Long Torpid Poems

Long Torpid Poems. Below are the most popular long Torpid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Torpid poems by poem length and keyword.


Last Cockcrow

i remember darkness
as it filled your eyes
with the umbrage of death

i never saw it scrolled
on the lace stitches of night
yet it was written there
perhaps it was all along
when one learns where to look

i should have known
it would be the last cockcrow
before winter's storm
the way you laid there torpid
like summer's sun beyond the horizon
when tossed about in the winds
of winter's frozen breath

maybe i would have seen it
if i weren't looking
through fogged-rims of dawn
that hand's of night had sewn
upon life's window

my tears fell like heaven's crystals
across newborn fields of white
as i heard the trumpet's blow
while death and i both pressed firmly
against your algid lips
but only silence kissed back


The South Still Grieves

Learning the threacherous tricks of the despicable ones
Enabled the greed-driven soldiers to conquer with lies;  
Torpid days of guilt came to smolder them with disgrace,
Trudging forth the conquered souls lost wealth and praise.
Immense was the anger of having been betrayed by their own;
Gentry souls fought in the fierce battlefield to defend their reign.

Gushing blood became a red river, corpses in open graves; 
Observance is repressed with disdain, the South still grieves.

No remembrance for the slaughtered ones, no mercy in their voices,
only a deplorable silence; their heads won't bow and show sympathy.
How can a nation be whole, if it is divided by an ideal of pride that rages?
Unrest troubles them, it's time they restored fairness and human dignity!

Prosperity is
absurd without unity, 
it's a disaster.

Written on 4/11/2016
Contest judged on: 4/13/2016
Form: Verse

At Any Given Moment Countless Thought Processes

Soundlessly ricochet to and fro
hither and yon
roundly bobbing within squarely donned
talking heads of psycho killers,
one pyromaniac burning 
down the crowded house
sparking magnificent conflagration
towering inferno emulating

caterwauling, kickstarting, ululating
(think) stray cats on a hot tin roof
nsync with 10,000 maniacs
intense heat and duraflame
long since eroding
weather beaten soul asylum
strip mining away
vestial trace, hence impossible mission

rectifying purposeless existence
imputed to passive self sacrifice
upon cusp of prepubescence
mystified, mummified, modified,
stilled, lulled, andhushed
obsessively grammatically fanatical
oftimes feeble efforts yielded countless
corrective editing measures
subsequently rendering lame

resultant deplorable effort
despite NON GMO gluten
and monosodiumglutimate free
diet of (hooked) worms
limply tethered symbolic constructs
analogous to dangling participles
scraping, plowing, etching...
imperfect triangulated Hollywood squares

across parched stream of consciousness
former luscious cerebral riverbeds
long since bone dry
millennium since onset climate change
courtesy global warming
blowing in the hot torpid wind
sands of time elapsed
accepted biological demise

forever linkedin with his forebears
birth/death repurposed cycle
activated, demonstrated, gifted...
integration, narration, reincarnation...
biochemical, geological, paleontological... 
legacy randomly begetting me
epochal, integral, orbital saga
since time immemorial
fifty plus shades of once ashen gray

well muscled athletic human specimen
oblivious corpse good n plenti
petrified, metamorphosed, coalesced
bleached skull and crossbones
grown brittle when blazing sun's
rays generated aforementioned disparate ideas
jangled, rankled, and zapped
in tandem with bared tiger (no lion)

slapdash pell mell, helter
skelter, higglety pigglety...
germane blitzkrieg rained down above
leaving writer, tortured, mortified, and benumbed
without either sense or sensibility
nor pride and prejudice
perusing discombobulated chaotic
kamikaze lobbed muddlesome nonsense.

Leg Twitches For Legatee

Quivering lowest limb
namely mine little feet
medication side effects
analogous running dead heat
most often while fast asleep
the missus claims thrashing feet

easily mistaken for epilepsy
disrupts her pleasant dreams
claiming legitimate grounds
for kickstarting divorce
bachelorhood amenable
versus her furious

expletive laced outbursts
crying out loud
further under_scoring, necessitating,
mandating, accentuating...
feasible solution for Pete sakes,
thus favoring me night owl schedule

mine circadian rhythm
easily reoriented, 
reestablished, realigned
when she goes beddie bye boo
I feel unbounded energy reserves
bubbles forth courtesy microcosmic

La Brea tar pits interestingly enough
preserving fossilized traces,
when shut eye cycle
regarding yours truly
synchronized more optimally
with counterpart, which

vagary linkedin with
one or more
pharmacological prescriptions,
yet this mister loathe
to forego synthesized agent
that calm emotional provocateurs

particularly diminishing
frequency and intensity
formerly debilitating panic attack,
which vestige chronic anxiety
prevalent thank you sweaty hands
profuse dripping perspiration

during torpid heat waves,
where combination
central air conditioning/
(albeit malfunctioning)
doubles as warmth
generating source

one bedroom
apartment unit B44,
which aforementioned detail
lacks relevance in toe toe
with healing power of
selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors

cuz clinical depression
linkedin with diagnosis
constituting genetic package
biologically bequeathed
to this anonymous hominid
amazingly graced with
psychological ills affecting

academic and employment functionality,
hence lifetime struggle
to live hand to mouth
hardscrapple existence
plaguing dependents and spouse
dealing with mailer daemons

compromising her mental health
translated as without income,
therefore financial shortcomings
lured by castles in the air
pipedreams, a lottery winner,
I dream of genie - in a bottle...

which farfetched stroke of luck
less likely than
getting struck by lightning
with sunshine illuminating
man cave within
which scrivener scribbles away.
Form: Footle

Autumn In the Air Hooray

Autumn In The Air - Hooray

Respite from punishing 
     heat wave - yay
which above line,
     could "speak" volumes,
     and be a stand alone poem
     offering readers
     a reprieve nsync 
     whence roasting, sultry,

     and torpid unpleasant 
     weather since yesterday
boot such brevity,
     would disallow 
     me to extemporize,
but more importantly today
this intrepid word
     smith doth "say,"

he would never
     wanna miss trodding,
     the formerly (golden
     in their heyday now sketchy),
     sections of said roadway,
now where digital electronic
    rustily hinged, abandoned, 
     and gated haunting quay

a throwback, when
     private manned schooners
     (shaped like a beer stein),
     perhaps headed to Uruguay
could ply outlying
     waters of cyberspace,
     why... just yesterday
when my troubles

     did not seem so far away
versus this present opportunity
     to risk live and limb
(and Kong like wrath
     of my reed ding fans)
     while getting way
     laid "traveling as
     Wilburys soul survivor

     foreign ancient groupie,"
     the dangerous, derelict, and dicey
     dubiously dotting dilapidated,
     dark corners information
     super high way,
thus yours truly
     doth not heed,
     but flaunts like some cray

zee (NOT RICH, NOR ASIAN),
     but rather some gray
beard (grizzled), curmudgeon
     figuratively gnarled, toothless,
     and weatherbeaten lackaday
lay about good for nothing
     mellow flew wuss depraved
('cept mebbe "robbing"

     precious and special time
     of some bachelor
     farmer from Norway)
all the above
     essentially wrote for naught
merely (as diversion) to comment,
     how this September day wrought
ascent o' fought

     (a scent oh aught) tum caught
me wear'n a corduroy
     long sleeve shirt since...aye taut
a "FAKE" hungry 

     Grimm gimlet eyed trumpeting lout, 
     germane Don apprenticed 
     how to become cannibalizing 
     (without accountability) fuhrer, 

(and lastly rendering enemies  
     into sweet tasting sauerkraut),
this while learning das dialect 
     (tickle) Matt speak,

(which took me a lifetime),
     this preceding the
     quirky invention of the umlaut!


Premium Member Companions

Cold
  is the
    iron bench
      I sit upon,
        watching for you on
        this cool Autumn morning
      but all I see is a lone
    slug moving slowly from lichen
  to lichen on the far arm rest, a
thick trail of slime marks its supine passage.
I remember our long talks as evening
  approached, sitting on this old worn bench,
    the sky blushing at us as it
      shared its multi-hued secrets,
      flowers fragrant and sweet.
    The birds singing songs
  of love to us
but it all
had to
end.
It
  was on
    your birthday
      when I told you
        I love you and gave
          you the gift, a thin gold
            chain.  You just stared at me, the
            chain dangled between your fingers.
            Letting it slowly fall to the ground
          you smiled sadly then turned and walked away.
        That was the last time I sat on this bench,
      the last time I saw your gentle smile.
    Now, it is a lonely refuge
  for me and my torpid friend,
a lost, eremitic
soul, searching for what?
Only he knows.
How I wish
to be
him.
I
  watch as
    he slowly
      traverses the
      handle when through the
    dim morning haze I glimpse
  a gleam of light from under
the bench.  It is the chain buried
  in the sand, only the clasp showing.
    I leave it for some young lovers to find.


08/17/16
Form: Etheree

No Objection To Cold Weather, But

No objection to cold weather, but...

ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb
to escape unrelenting forbidding gloom.
perhaps cuz mine generation 
nsync with baby boom.

No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless (three plus) scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
yours truly haint got any 
handy dandy blues clue,

nonetheless said wish -
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.

Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting

Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,

thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this

before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...

Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy

lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse

learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,

one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
Form: Rhyme

Penalty

It only made sense to me-

like I only wade in destiny,

like I only drink very dark tea,
on summer mornings when they are scorching...

It only made sense to me,

like it's scoring the dividers detracting O' tall and torry,
at the worried hello sojourning,

...of a next year's encouraged
deuteronomy,

and the slots spell perfectly like I am optionally twerking
tangents and the emotional torpid laughing,

hacking as I complain entrapping this dent upon the distances-

completing me in the persistence, as I know of no more to be finished 
and fixed,

this is existence and the amiable confidence.
Form: Concrete

Premium Member A Cup of Tea

 I hear the tea pot singing
With the amber liquid sizzling
I see spouts of vapor ejecting
With sweet aroma spreading

A cup of hot steaming tea
Revives us on every morning
As we sip it when we scan the news
We feel the early languor lifting

Nothing like a cup of well blended tea
For a tired soul to enliven his body
Its delicious taste and delicate fragrance
Make it everyone’s lovesome buddy

A heavenly drink for the torpid minds
A beverage brewed from the best of herbs
A magic potion for the feverish lips
Which in tiresome hours, everyone yearns

Tea time is the pleasant family time
How we babble and burble over a cup of tea
Drawing people closer, cementing relations
Sure, it’s a time to look forward with glee 



Submitted for- A Brian Strand Standard Choice Poetry Contest

Placed First

April.22. 2022

Placed 9th

Anything You Want- New Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Chantelle Anne Cooke
Form: Rhyme

Nature

Woke up in the morning and moved towards the balcony,
Felt the breeze attractive; spotted some birds tiny.
Wondering why every morning is so special,
With some new vibes and a new potential!

Hours just flew by and the afternoon came,
I sprawled and then played a game.
My body became torpid and so was my mind,
Only the dullness was left behind!

I went outside and got engaged with nature,
Found vivacity like a hidden treasure!
Clouds floating, birds chirping allured my eyes,
I was in love with this paradise!

I came back and rested for a while,
With the gift of nature, which was a smile.
The other distractions didn't distract me,
As I was already distracted by the nature's beauty!

In the night, I was gazing at the moon,
Through the window in my room.
Recalling my whole day situations,
Thinking that, nature would be the best remedy to avoid distractions!

I concluded that afternoon time would not be always dull,
Rather, it depends upon the people.
Those who could keep the distractions aside,
Would have joy and tranquility by their side!

Our mind is a void in the dawn,
Having least distractions in its lawn.
That is why morning seems a special time,
Till the clock struck nine!

Let us keep the distractions far,
To come with the geniuses at par.
Distractions will always try to distract you,
But be a more vigilant or else become a statue!
Form: Rhyme

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