Long Void Poems
Long Void Poems. Below are the most popular long Void by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Void poems by poem length and keyword.
Convinced I am
I'll never be me again
The one who created the pain
The one who had so much to gain
But lost out in the end
To a race against time
A figment of me
Just a pigment of hope
Lie down at night
No sleep to make up
I wander about
Through today's events
I worry about tomorrows as well
There is no real balance
When I am always off center
My mind never shuts down
I Whisper I can't do this anymore
Can't continue to live in a past unforgiven
I am stuck here in the void
Can't trust myself to let my guard down
Feel only alone is how I will live out this life
Scroll through the pictures on facebook dating
All so many choices but none ever get back
Am I just a lost cause
Confined to all I fear
It's a stain that won't wash out
Am I really that unlovable
Is the cover just to torn to turn the page
So much unsuriness so little dedication
To branch out away from past thoughts
It's alarming and endangering
Have I become that lost soul
Only time knows
All the secrets I hide.
As the night creeps slowly on,
deep thoughts drift to your sweet kiss.
How it takes me to warm Paradise,
my body tingles in tender bliss.
I’m frozen in that moment,
floating on desire’s cloud.
Soft sighs echo in my lonely soul,
lifting the veil of this loveless shroud.
I long to be in that place
where we are alone all night,
on a big rug by a roaring fire
where love rules and everything is right.
I remember your laughter;
the gleam in your sexy eyes.
The candle flames seem to dance in time
to our body moves and pleasured cries.
Passion filled our spirits full
as all longings were fulfilled.
Every sensual feeling released
while love’s enchanted hearts were thrilled.
I sit with my glass of wine
in front of a raging fire.
Without your love there is a great void,
to my lonely bed I shall retire.
At least there I may find you
in one of those alluring dreams.
Drifting slowly, searching for your touch
that makes love feel as close as it seems.
**ABC FUN**
Funny vs' Rude~~
agrestic bugaboo creeps, dandle
'each-
other', footle gleeking,
happy, izzat...jillick, kibitz, ludic,
maffick, nothosonomia,
osculating, proudly, quizzing, riant,
squabash,
to unstable void, whelm, Xanthippe,
yodle, zingy.
*
Dark Death~~
aphotic burnt cardinal debris
everywhere, flammeous,
growing haematic, igniting,
jeopardizing, killing, lava,
madness, numb, 'Oppositional-
Defiant',
pulse, quantity,
rage, staged, tempered, under,
virescent, watch, ***, yield, zero.
*
Dream a little Dream~~
Accelerator, beating, captivating
dreaming, eruption,
fingerprints, ghost haunting,
invading,
journey,
'keebler-keeper', labyrinth, magic,
nightmare, odyssey,
path, quarantine, rainbows, snakes,
'tossing&turnning',
unconsciously, vertigo,
'wakening2wetness', x-rated,
yawning,
zoomed.
*
Dedicated and inspired by; Yasmin
Khan
By;pd
Stages and steps are the structures of Life’s nomenclature
a little mind isn’t ready to go through its rotating disk,
quick and fast void of much strain, no matter the way
but such an inpatient method carries the most risk.
Building upon contentment to slowly reach prosperity,
such energy is diverted for unholy accumulation in a brisk.
No item is beyond such eyes in need of sedation
the Lord of Moscow fighting to also be the mayor of Bisk.
Possessions beyond reach stimulate more awareness and sensitivity,
unconsciously and rapidly, mindfulness undergoes a frisk.
The unnecessary search for more, never nearly gets exhausting
but disappointment nods, tagging such a person with asterisk.
Enormous wants so large, yet squeezed by the mind and limbs
lands one in a tornado, subsequently throwing everything in a whisk.
“The rot has sunk in deep
Yet we continue to sleep”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grooves of habit
Becoming reflex instinct
No longer wait
Our originality extinct
Waking from sleep
We expect our body to be there
Is it not a hypnosis deep
Of or true origin now unaware
At a secondary level
In each and every thing we do
Oblivious to Gods miracles
So patterned has become our view
Even in thought rested awareness
In the vibrant void of cessation
Memory imagery stuporousness
Obscures depth of our elation
Energy pulsations toroidal
Beauteous full complete loop
Would it not be tragicomical
If to lower orbits it stoops
So to feel the throb in fullness
To become the bliss fizz
Mindfulness renews emptiness
Then that that is is as it is
28-December-2020
From our stillness fulcrum, we observe time
As one moment blends into another
As void of silence, in our heart does chime
Pristine presence is immersed in prayer
Mind body instrument, with love aligned
Celebrates the deep throb of bliss within
Ego rested; nothing to be divined
Formless awareness, tranquil and sanguine
Space thins, revealing flickers of white light
We just look on, without analysing
Waking and dreaming, now equally bright
Boundaries between form and void blurring
Be still, hermit, in bliss scintillating
Feel each nuance within, of our blossoming
11-January-2021
Puzzling, miraculous and random
Are the ways of life
Thinking, probing and planning
Warding chance and incident
Avoiding event and inadvertence
Moving with care and caution
One tries to steer through the trail
But he reaches the crossroads
Pauses to know the right path
To reach the destination of his choice
But all remain mute
The crossroads do not speak
He is all alone, and lost
Fortuity takes over and he moves
Sandwiched between right and wrong
The road leads to a blind end
Devoid of options he Stays there
Days, months and years pass
Collecting his cool and strength
He starts the journey again
With gusto and delight
Flushing out his solitude and seclusion
Finds a multitude of souls
All haphazard, ignorant and confused
Unable to guide his bruised past
Simmering inside
He continues with his quest
Encounters a wise childhood friend
Opens his heart to the sharp dude
But what comes out of him is:
‘Life is like that, dance with destiny’
And the void continues
Written: June 10th, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud
************************
Do I feel empty?
Or am I becoming a void?
Or am I amassing light to be thick?
Shimmering hourglass embosoms paradoxes—
emptiness and fullness, darkness and light.
A sandy spot with winter asperity cinders,
a vestige of the iterative nature of life,
each grain of time trickling a wave,
ebbing and flowing,
forever shifting, undulating.
Whatever twist, whatever spin,
I sustain you in the din,
anchored on the ledge of chiming.
In all scopes, the sand-clock is versatile,
grain by grain, a vertical choir—counts—
flux, looms as a flash of fearlessness,
from ash, arises a phoenix, pristine slate.
“My soul is a black maelstrom…” ~ Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet.
Molten lava spews from my eyes.
My mouth feels dry as the scorching desert sand.
Fear, like a heavy boulder, sits on my chest.
My heart is chasing a Chimera.
A pit is forming in my stomach;
My head is riding upon a vortex.
Conflicting thoughts swirl through my mind,
forming a surrealistic whirlpool.
Grim and gloomy feelings shroud my being,
Permeating a fatalistic suspicion of society at large,
Dragging me down the road to depression.
A sense of emptiness is mushrooming within me,
Like the morning miasma blurring the view.
All hands of hope have been withdrawn.
Every moment henceforth
is pregnant with some novel challenges;
Tackling a new task overwhelms me,
and despair prevails over my soul undeterred —
Bogged down by fate,
Tethered to my faith,
And mired in a spiritual quagmire,
I am unable to claw my way back up
to Mount Calvary.
~Prompt 2: "As I slip into the void of this endless black."
~Contest: Venom and Stardust: A Birthday Prompt
~sponsor: Sara Jama.
~Screwed XXIII Poetry Contest by Rob Carmack
I’m near almost here
resounds in my ear,
I feel a presence
closing in tonight,
Curtains of darkness
so bereft, it’s death,
Here to take my life,
i’m paralyzed to fight,
Limp helpless,
supine I stare,
as finality descends,
snuffing out time,
The loan to this body,
has run it’s course,
An entity must return
via the void,
Deaths vice-grips
every last atom,
Squeezing existence
to an infinite point,
This is not choice, echoes
through space,
Death comes death calls
death shows one grace,
a bifurcation,
Deus ex machina shrugs,
voicing these words,
One path holds copious love,
equaled only by hate,
The other, love’s barely nothing,
yet hate is absent,
Former is tempting
but sounds familiar,
Latter could possibly
bore me to death again,
Yet holds an iota of potential,
I choose this fate.
By
David Kavanagh