Long Wails Poems
Long Wails Poems. Below are the most popular long Wails by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wails poems by poem length and keyword.
Someday I'd like to wander free
like butterfly, like bumblebee,
perhaps to plant a willow tree
beside the silent solemn sea,
before these things exist no more,
from mountain top to shifting shore,
when, soon, bald eagles cease to soar
and build their aeries nevermore,
and fish forsake polluted streams
(where sulfur swims and typhoid teems
since no one really cares it seems)
to die inside our toxic dreams
while ice caps melt and winter steams,
and all the air surrounding reeks
as children choke, for no one speaks
of fracking wells or oily leaks
(Big Brother's silenced all critiques!),
and rancid rains acidify
so woods no longer multiply
(for God so wills, we can't deny,
which is, of course, our alibi).
And as the deepest ocean fills
with plastic bags, and garbage spills
upon the plains, across the hills
and turns to poison dust that kills
wild dingo dogs and daffodils
which sink in swamps’ forsaken swills,
the mocking bird makes light and trills
(midst waning wails of whippoorwills)
"Behold the surreal scene that chills
and greet the dread that death distills!
You've had your day with all the frills
that brought the flood and final ills
that can't be cured with bitter pills
nor yet undone with further thrills
of profit gained that grinds and fills
dead desert sands with dollar bills."
EPILOGUE
Though swaddled still in infancy,
we feel we’ve reached our primacy
(aloof, though preaching piously,
disdaining deeds of decency)
and have no need of augury.
But in the pit of prophecy
the crucial questions seem to be:
“Is doom Earth’s fate, our destiny
to twist in tides of agony
destroying nature’s progeny
with no return a certainty
assured by death’s finality?”
and
”Should we plant a willow tree
to someday weep for you and me?”
Chains that clatter, rusted tight,
Steal the warmth of morning light.
Backs are bent, hands are sore,
Lashed and broken evermore.
Fields of sorrow, cotton white,
Torn from dawn till dead of night.
Cries that echo, unheard pleas,
Freedom whispers on the breeze.
Families ripped and cast apart,
A mother wails, a shattered heart.
Children sold, their names erased,
Love denied, their past displaced.
Masters claim their right to own,
Flesh and blood, yet hearts of stone.
Gold and greed their only creed,
Built their world on others' need.
Men who toil, yet reap no gain,
Drenched in sweat, drowned in pain.
Hope is but a fleeting dream,
Lost beneath the lash's scream.
Yet through the dark, a spark remains,
A voice that fights against the chains.
For though we suffered, though we died,
The dream of freedom won't run dry.
So hear my voice beyond the grave,
No man was ever born a slave.
For justice waits though justice lags,
Our spirits rise our bodies sag.
One day these chains shall break and fall,
And freedom's voice shall rise for all.
.
*To the tune of "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen
I've heard there is a secret floor
That's locked behind your attic door.
But you don't really want to show me, do you?
You keep her there,
A ghost, a fiend -
An angry beast that taunts unseen.
The crazy wife who wants to burn your house down.
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
My love was strong, so I needed proof
That she was jailed beneath your roof.
She showed up in the moonlight to betray you.
She lit the flames, she left you there
To choke on smoke and fight the flare.
The crazy wife who tried to burn your house down.
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
Edward, I've been hurt before.
I've been condemned, I've been ignored.
I used to feel alone before I knew you.
I've seen her face through the attic door.
I've heard her wails through the attic floor.
The crazy wife who tried to burn your house down.
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
There was a time when you let me know
The truth about your scheming show.
But now you wish you'd never told me, don't you?
And remember when she stalked my room
Searching for her cheating groom?
The crazy wife who tried to burn your house down.
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
You have Bertha in your attic
*Based (lovingly and jokingly) on the story of "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Brontë
Written: July 10, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Along with the season's quiet end,
Where sunlight fades and shadows blend,
A symphony of seasons unfolds,
As autumn paints the world in gold.
The crunch of crackling leaves can be heard.
As nature whispers its secret word,
And the wind wails at trees that won't bend.
In the cycle of life, they must transcend.
Summer's songbirds, once elfin and frail,
Have now grown strong and spread their wings.
Their sweet melodies no longer prevail.
As they venture to modern lands and sing.
No longer tethered, the time has cut their strings.
And gave them the strength to fly about.
But as the days grow shorter and swing
The world transforms, and its colors doubt.
Leaves turn from green to fiery hues.
Autumn's palette is a vibrant muse.
The air grows crisp; a chilling embrace
As nature prepares for winter face.
Beyond the silence of summer's end,
A recent message to comprehend.
In the changing seasons, we find
That life's journey is intertwined
Just as the birds find freedom in flight,
We too must embrace adjust and fight.
The symphony of seasons plays on,
A timeless melody, never gone
From summer's songbirds to autumn's gold
To winter's frost and stories untold,
Life's tapestry weaves a tale so grand,
As we journey through this wondrous land.
So let us not fear the silence of summer.
In its absence, a recent chapter will come.
Beyond the silence, a vibrant world awaits.
Where nature's wonders will captivate.
Embrace the changing seasons with clean arms.
For they bestow forth life's endless charms.
Beyond the silence of summer's end,
A symphony of seasons transcends.
And as the wind wails and leaves crunch underfoot,
We find solace in the cycle resolute.
For in the silence, fresh beginnings arise.
And the beauty of nature never dies.
Sun rise; it's a new day
A new day,same people
Mentality proceeds to be different;
Ugly. YES! ugly mentalities
Activities normal,streets flocked
Freedom is real, no restrictions and rules followed
Partial difference, probably tribe
Justice...peace...it is what it is
Smoke in the air,instantly
Wails invades the environment
Streets converted to racing fields;
Disorganized race,everyone is a champion
Peace lovers turn to perpetrators
Retaliation given birth to
Democracy! democracy! democracy...
Where are the democrats?
Scramble and partition reborn
Resistance movement rooting again
It was white against black those days
Now it is black against black
Brothers form conspiracies...
Blood against blood
Dreams are always valid,nightmares too
Dry land is now muddy;red mud
Corpses dominates the streets
The living become unpopular
Death is now a celebrity
Gunshots topping music charts
Lawmakers to lawbreakers
Leaders to misleaders
Presidents to dictators
The age of revolution is here
Screenpoem Pitch
by Odin Roark
Night
Empty wet ghost town street
Work lights spotted
Tumble weed shadows
Like vehement crusted webs
Gila monster stares vacant
Fat lady carries midget man to bed
Lions sleep
Elephants sway trunks
Phillip Glass sounds undulate
Horses prick ears
3 legged cat wails
Cat turns into old woman
Tumbleweed shadows chase woman
House trailer bathed in pink light
Fat lady steps in
Crazy mirror makes fat lady thin
Young
Crazier than old
Old woman changes into trapeze bikini
Lion tamer and young old lady kiss
3 legged cat scurries under bed
Lion tamer drops to knees
Pleads his love
Snaps whip
Cat hisses
Distant lightning
Trailer pink turns blue
Thunder rocks trailer
Rain washes trailer away
Old woman
Fat again
Walks in desolate rain
Swirls cotton candy around tongue
3 legged cat jumps in lion cage
Stares at lion
Missing leg scratches ear
Dreaming
Purring
Lion growling
Quiet
Oh so...
Quiet
Fade out
Justice howls like barking dogs chasing down the hollow street
Justice flows the same way blood gushes down his trembling feet
Justice echoes blatantly through woodlands and valleys
Ringing upon roof tops progressing door to door
And crying out loud.
Justice weeps for innocent children
Children who have been robbed of their dazzling youth
Children whose lives have been taken too soon.
Justice sings a solemn tune, a tune without a rhythm
A tune that only the victims can sing.
Justice mourns for mothers and fathers
Mothers who have been waiting for their daughters
Waiting for their daughters to reunite but they are far out of sight.
Justice wails desperately for her suffocating son
A desperation that we all could hear
A plea for mercy as he gasps for breath.
Justice marching in the street,
Marching from east to west
Marching from north to south.
Justice uncovering lies and rumors
Stripping them of their abusive power
and exposing cruel, mean-spirited perpetrators.
Justice pounds on the door of the city
A city whose inhabitants are cold as charity
Exchanging popsicles for ice
And eluding justice in broad daylight.
Justice blaze in the air for broken women,
Women who have been raped, murdered and abused
Women who have been openly harassed and accused
Justice beckons to the heart of the shattered city
for liberation from this awful misery.
The cry for justice hammers on the door
of heartless blackmailers trading lives for a determined price
antagonizing the innocent, making sordid deals
in the community to disrupt peaceful homes and families .
The cry for justice screams at the conscience of
Barbaric kidnappers who have been destroying lives
And committing cold blood murder in the middle of the night.
The cry for Justice climbs every mountain top
The cry for Justice voyage over land and sea
Bellows in the heavens and finally made a stop.
©2014 Christine Phillips
Lock ruby ridden doors for roach ridden floors bleed without grace
Roused rounded wounds throughout nightly escapes
And gaping fields of endless escapades
And gaping seas my moses blade has wrenched to dictate.
Pace rotting church floors, so I merry-may await god to knock upon my door alike a loving mother
His guilty spires to sing and relapse my sorrows
Eviscerate rusted razors to lacerate a clean slate.
And in the roar of rain and reign of vines
That pin and pay homage to this chime of final time
To frou-frou odes oozing scarlet against saccharine skin
And touch and go chortles chilling curve brow'd kin
To Cupid bow'd lips agape with cherry tipped spit
Ribbed'n red ribbons t'reach 'round rust ridden gates to 6ft city scapes
Lay'n low below poppy pinned limbs
Lifeless Carcasses drowning in ailed acrid hailing wails,
Limestone limbs aground with grave grown pests, quilled acid arms armed with bitten black mitts
Askewed pinching pincers ripp'd the petty sinner's wings, now
Falling as fallen fallacies face fickle teenage fantasies
Falling as to fall affronted towards
Mother-made dishonor doused among sickly star shine,
Clutching contorted flesh wrung of blackened regret
hung 'pon the sinful spine of east borne wind where the church resides.
Mine spires spindle star swept sereneties
To cloth mine carcass
From candid claws, in a rust ridden razor haze
O' Lacerate and Eviscerate this crass phase.
Perhaps if I were to,
Rebate the mirror that faces the sinner's face,
Would I face the same fate?
3//8//2025
The world roars wild wails of displeasure
Of contempt, of dissolution
Of amendment, of all and all
Yet one another we Jealous
And you I think I am
Profoundly ignorant of the heat
Carrying your Shoe is.
How amusing and insanely pathetic
But may, you also crave same thought
Wishing you be me or him or her
Or them but yourself
Never mindful or say Less thoughtful
Of mine, his, her or their hidden damness
Another insanely pathetic amusement
But, ever asked your pillow?
If all ate one food, all loved one color (All, in one taste)
All wore one fabric, all endured one occupation (All, in one way)
All loved one woman, all submitted to one man (All, caught in one web)
Where would the joy of difference and indifference lie?
Who would carry the excitement of exploration?
And bid the hunger for Adventure?
Who would smile to the diversity of nature
And cry to the intensity of pain?
Who would conceit in admiral admiration
Of the supremacy of our creator?
Who would even call you beauty and him handsome?
Or never know you that these compliments are lives in disguise?
See? We all and all we wish of another
Are but seem vain unconscious desires of lost hands
For by reason nature has called you Blue
And him Red and me Green
That by aggregation our offspring
Shall sprout out in abundance
Of our outstanding uniqueness
And all praise our creator be.
So, why the why him and not me illusion?
Hmm,
The world roars wild wails of displeasure
Of contempt, of dissolution
Of amendment, of all and all
And the Irony continues to build strong.
Warmth of your hands
Hearth of sanctuary stands
My worn out body chills
Your soothing touch that heals
My fever under the rainbow
Relieving my heart that wallow
Your face I can't forget
Your embrace you leave and let
Under the rain I drown
Without you I drop and frown
My legs and knees that stiff
Your scent and skin I can't sniff
Wails and torments I ride
Like a roller coaster that stride
Without you by my side
I'm broken and torn outside
My lips only speaks
Your name my tongue squeaks
Your heart is my blood that shrills
In my empty heart, the life that fills