Long Warning Poems
Long Warning Poems. Below are the most popular long Warning by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Warning poems by poem length and keyword.
Deep in the piney woods
A call beckons across the branch
A call that isn't animal nor human
A call that makes your hair stand alert and skin prickly from fright!
The light of the full moon awakens the spirits and the calling from the piney woods.
If you doubt my story and risk your very life, then make sure you take a
weapon into the piney woods. Well, I believe the call is from the ghost of the moon
shiners that have lost their lives in the mica mines many years ago.
The mica was
big business one time until the mines went dry.
The deep holes were perfect cover for the moonshine stills until
the revenuers caught the culprits. A great gun battle raged until death.
Today the crumpled mica shimmer in the red clay is all that is left of the mines.
The local children like to scare
themselves with the
abandoned rock graveyard along the edge of the piney woods. If you look close at
the mound of rocks...it appears that there is a bony hand protruding from the grave
and pointing directly at you to leave. The ancient thick cedar trees seem to
guard the graves and whisper "Warning, Warning."
In 1969 there was another vilolent firey death on the road through the piney woods.
A man died inside a burning wrecked truck, screaming
"Don't let me burn to death" repeatedly until the bitter charred end.
When the moon is right the echo carries his screams across the hills.
A young man only age seventeen lost his life in a fatal car wreck on
the steep curved road. His life was taken so fast; he is said to walk
the hills searching for his sweet ride to
carry him on his journey, unaware of his eternal fate.
On a short walk along the shallow creek bank reveals an old rock formation covered
in moss now but built by a people of long ago. Maybe Indian or early settlers,
no one knows the architects but if you stand in a certain spot where the
ground is always wet with a reddish ooze. You can feel a cold icy finger
across your face and neck.
Is the call a young buck calling his bride in the after life; is the call an
evil doer fighting to avoid beelzebub's snare? The apparition can be seen
briefly if you desire look when the wind and moon are right. Waynesville
holler offers more
than beauty in the day but beware of the moon lit walks that
young lovers
brave or you
may be the next victim of the piney woods!
We've known each other for a while now
I think its fair to say
I haven't met anyone like you
not ever, not to this day
when our eyes really first met
something inside me began to stir
I was unsure what to make of it
so I shrugged it off without a care
weeks have passed by, our conversations keep flowing
like raindrops from above, the topics have no warning.
The more that we explore, the greater my yearn
to travel the footprints of thought
that leave tracks across your mind.
time flies fast, its almost a blur
we've know each other over a year now
and you have become a mama.
I've never seen you so happy
a miracle from above, I am sure..
I love how your eyes are smiling
This is a picture I adore.
it was at this point, when I looked into your eyes
that what bothered me before came back to life
the stirring within came out of the blue
it was then I realised it was fuelled by you.
still unsure what it was within
I just looked up and gave you a grin
Its 2 in the morning, I should be asleep
each time I close my eyes, its you I see.
For a second there is blackness, and everything is sound
then from nowhere, your face is found
My arms reach out, to hold you tight
to hold you close throughout the night
but like before, you were not there
so this again, I'm hugging air!
Finally, my brain gives up and sleeps
but still you find me in my dreams
but in my dreams your there with me
so this is now the place to be.
its time to wake up, I feel exhausted
my brain feels fried, there was no off switch.
All throughout the night, you and I danced away
under the moonlight, with the stars on display
upon cloud tops, high in the sky
where angels sit to watch you and I
Sorrow was what it took, for me to realise
what love was, and how it thrives
where it starts, how it feels
how it hurts, but how it thrills..
I feel like I could fly, this stuff is better than Red Bull
I've never been so high, the feeling is astronomical
and to think the reason why, I feel so invincible
Is because I looked into your eyes
and was touched by your soul..
I leave it to fate, to decide what will be,
to see if theres a future for you and me.
You are one of a kind, you are my friend.
I've never met anyone like you..
I dont think I will again!
Form:
We Are The Ghost Dance Poets
by David Lee Herring (The Powwow Poet)
We come together from near and far
Like wise men following the star
from the sweet Grass Hills, We come to be filled
with the Spirit from on high
Holy Great Spirit in the Sky
Calls us to come together now
He’s our grandfather, he’ll teach us how
Peace and Love will prevail
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
We paddle down the Zuni River
As through rusty red silt she slivers
On this quest to quench the thirst of our souls
we surrender all control
to the guidance of Great Spirit
We answer his Call as we hear it
With the rattle of the Gourd and the beat of the drum
We all come together as one
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
Some begin their journey at Bear Butte
Others start their passage at Pahuk
All from different nations and tribes
For We are Great Spirit's Scribes
His poems pour forth from our tongues
We sing songs like our Fathers have sung
Prophetic rhymes of warning to mankind
earth is your mother, respect and love her
We all sprang up from her soil
Now we must all join in and toil
Gather and labor together to save her
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
See, Wounded Knee could not stop the poets
Over a hundred years ago and We still hear it
The sound of the drum calling us to come
and all join together in the circle
And once again there'll be miracles
Bringing healing to our bodies and souls
As from all tribes together we dance
For Dance is a form of romance
It's Intimacy with the Holy One
As all of his daughters and sons
Worship the Father together as one
For that is how true healing comes
For we are the Ghost Dance Poets
Summoned together by Great Spirit
Fighting this battle with pen instead of arrow
Taking the path that is the most narrow
Calling all humanity
to come together in unity
Part Three
...swishing away with your sunshrivelled burgundy knotty arms with broad disdainful harvesting sweeps the cobras come out to water in the sweltering heat by the thatched fly-buzzed hole
your low under-the-breath warning tones a reminder of the will of your self-inflicted charge
you never ate until i gorged myself
like the dutiful wife given with a dowry
watching me all the time through the shield of the wisp of cloud of cheroot smoke in your sentinel corner against the far wall your eyes glinting fearing that i might take exception and even before my plate was half-empty you had already darted across the kitchen floor to bring me more fried brinjals mashed greens fried and sliced plantain the steaming rice lying bare by its metal cover hanging on the lip of the open pot-mouth in a clear aluminium pot by my side
now they say you are gone for some plotted and took your life in haste
even before you had time to ensure an heir
others say you were alone dismayed abandoned by your own
prey to enchanters coveting
the plot of land the house derelict forsaken by your absence
they say some one else caretakes it for himself
others no a forbidden son of your husband’s has raked it for himself
alas would you have known how landless nationless stateless i’d be
this dot of ancestral land clinging-clanging in memory
did you know then you might never see me again
nor probably ever hear of me
or if you had how might you have taken it all
did you believe the tales true and false they told
or only what you wanted to hear
of your precious prince you once served in silence and
who had gone to slave in other lands
Notes
eevaa peerankal muuvaa marunthu is a take on another well-known Tamil proverb: eevaa makkal muuvaa marunthu meaning “children who obey even before the order is given are a God-send”. Here, in lieu of children, the word “grandparents” is substituted
chembu: a small usually copper vessel shaped like a rounded vase with a tapering neck and open mouth, used for holding drinking water or milk
kuul: thick holdall gruel which may also be highly spiced
chemman: red soil
Vaithi: ayurvedic doctor, practising the traditional Indian homeopathic medicine
© T.Wignesan 1997 - Paris May 7, 1997 (from the Sequence/Collection: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent")
(***warning ungapatchka language ahead***)
Flush with rage the spouse will become allied
if reference made how she buzzfeeds disorder
altercation especially likely if divorce blurted
making me wish to experience (immediately)
bartered bride, when mine pointed finger doth
nonverbally chide markedly appalling untidy
predilection she blithely exhibits woeful scant
interest to maintain can-do spirit affecting plea
zing aesthetic humble abode ofttimes slacking
off cleaning trail of abomination, which talent
includes unwittingly cultivating qua primordial
soup possibly duplicating conditions when life
originated (bajillion years ago) on planet Earth
witnessed courtesy think gummy, groovy, gooey,
gloppy, (nippy, nap, noopy) protoplasmic slimy
oozing blob (starring Steve McQueen) amoeba
like swallowing small towns with names such as
Chester Springs, Downingtown, Phoenixville,
& Royersford hungering, hinting, and hankering
to hasten home hearing Harris harridan hooligan
hoopla conniption purportedly linked into order
issued courtesy board of health for hen pecking
wife to hustle & make house beautiful for Biden
(accompanied with hit parade) announcing (yea)
at long last Republican administration overhaul
which fête yours truly slated to host determined
(weeks ago), thus necessitating legally wedded
counterpart to apply elbow grease in tandem to
render spic & span where unsightly food scraps,
soiled clothes, scattered papers, et cetera strewn
helter skelter, the disarray the culmination of 4+
years occupying these digs in Schwenksville, Pa.
Upon being told "get the place in ship shape order"
she went ballistic like bupkis fired out me gluteus
maximus, (whereat I couldn't help but think ICBM)
yea, an incongruous thought as she rattled vitriolic,
colorful expletives coarse language enough would
make sailor blush shutting his yapper uttering before
he even uttered "shiver me timbers," hence clatter
and din created cacophonous noise as my fair lady
affected one woman siege warfare as pots and pans
flew pell mell thru air while I took refuge in fallout
shelter unused since total mortal kombat destroyed
major swath of webbed wide world, global debacle
our dear leader triggered (when in pensive mood) he
lobbed weapons of mass destruction after being axed
to "go back home" meaning his mother planet Uranus.
I watched as the dark grew around his eyes.
He came through the window,
Stepping like a shadow.
He was the night, he was the ghost, he was the
Unaided fighter as he reached for my side.
And I so desperately wanted to caress his masked face.
His pace was noiseless and so attractive,
Yet death was nearer with every step,
I thought.
Still, I didn’t care if my life would have ended
That night, stolen by the elusive ninja…
I wanted him even closer.
He quickly searched the inside of his shozoku,
Only to reveal a deadly suriken.
Breathless, as he approached, I stood there,
Not wanting to disenchant from his spell.
With one blow, the suriken ripped
The shoulder of my nightgown.
Flowing red stained my pillow
And it felt so real.
Oh, how I wanted his knife at my throat,
Me, his target of the night,
And how I sighed when he drew
His katana.
With one lethal strike I would have
Plunged on the floor, choking for my last breath,
Yet he gently traced the contour of my
Trembling chin… trembling, but only for his touch.
My tears sparkled in the cold, hard steel
As I sensed his breath arising.
I only heard his samurai chuckle and with no warning
He hurled his sword back into the dark.
We both moaned in anxious passion
When he bore my hand into a painful
Wrist lock.
I did not care, I did not see, I did not feel anything aside
The dark-haired ninja over my hips.
Our mangled bodies mirrored in the shiny steel of his forgotten blade,
His chest crowning over mine,
His hands fondling in my hair, down to my aroused breasts.
Two naked bodies trapped in my jujitsu legs.
A ninja so dark, so passionate, so fast,
He gently pulled aside my hidden Sai from under the cushion.
He kissed my breasts, my wrists, my hair,
My lips…
My shoulder, he patched with his soothing mouth.
We locked in kiss so quickly, his tongue
Bitter from my blood, snapping at my neck
And torso while he pushed inside me, deeper.
Invisible in the dark, he loved me
In endless ways, my fragile ninja rested
On the top of my chest.
I stroked his hair in content and silence,
Not even knowing his name.
A dark-haired ninja lay over my hips
When dawn came chewing at our lashes.
I then turned, not to see his figure,
Relying on my silent samurai
Of the dusk that I’ll go back to sleep
And he’ll go back to black.
© 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila
"Do you really think I am that heartless to just leave my parents in danger without any shame? Guilt? I felt all of that. Many times in my journey I almost turned back, but I could not win against my heart's desires. I could not avoid the fate the gods had laid out for me. I too am a victim." At this point, Princess Layla was bawling her eyes out. She knew she had the Lady of the Gods eating out of her hands, when the old woman bent down and hugged her tightly whilst also crying.
"It's okay, my child. Your parents are alive. The king did not sentence them to death, because the empress bore a son resulting in the pardon of everyone who had committed a crime.Thank the merciful gods." The news of her parents survival did nothing for Princess Layla as they too had sacrificed her to the king , but she was glad her escape had not caused any bloodshed.
In the moment of distraction, the old witch raised a dagger and mercilessly stabbed Princess Layla in the back. "Wh..y", the princess inquired as color drained from her rosy cheeks. The old witch stood and left but as her silhoutte faded to a black shadow, her final words rang loud in dying ears. "A princess who betrays her nation deserves nothing less than death."
"Outrageous! What kind of play has such a... a stupid end?" That's all Princess Jasmine could think of as she watched the princess take her final breath on stage. She finally understood why her mom insisted she see the play. It was a warning, a friendly warning. As the truthness of it all hit her, Princess Jasmine was ever so thankful to be sitted. Her insides felt queasy as fear gripped her. She could suddenly feel a cold blade on her warm skin. No. No. No! She had to get out of here. Tell Robert that they couldn't run away together. Tell him she loved him but had to marry the king. How could she betray her kingdom? Granted she hadn't done anything but she'd thought of it and mother knew. Oh, no! Mother knows. Is Robert okay? She wouldn't do anything to him, would she? Oh, no! No. NO. As her thoughts spiraled out of control, Princess Jasmine stumbled out of the suffocating theater like a drunkard. In her hurried, haphazard exit, she bumped into a dark figure. For a moment, a handsome smile invaded her line of vision. When she tried a sorry, she really regretted scoffing down all the those cakes they gave out during the cursed play.
I leaned back and rubbed my work – weary
eyes as the stress of teaching left my
mind.
The children were playing a few yards away from me.
Their cheerful laughter could easily be heard above the
din of voices.
I checked on them briefly, then turned to the sky that
stretched out in a seamless blue. Occasional clouds
floated by.
It was a beautiful day to be out. I was glad that I had decided
to take a break from work and bring the kids to the park. My
husband agreed whole hearted
The children had jumped at the opportunity to go
play there; though it didn’t have much for play
equipment.
Despite the slight sheen of rust on the slide and
the dull pin pricks on the wood swing, the kids loved the
decrepit playground.
However if the parents ever found out what the children did
on the fallen play ground, they would be most
certainly be shocked at the manner of it all. For those
parents had no notion of what those children hid.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I looked at my twin in earnest. He had to understand.
In order to save Lishon I had to go. Just had
to.
The river flowed before us with a vengeance. It was as if the
water was displeased with the rocks and it had taken upon
itself to punish them.
Jorden looked at me sadly at the thought of jumping.
He knew that it would cost me my life if I
did.
“You just can’t Clarisa. If you jump the Noli will take over
Lishon and without you at the archers command they
will vanquish us.”
“Yes, but if the river is not quieted, our armies will drown.
As the Shana of the sea I must have control: just as you must
control the evergreen and the willow.”
“That’s different and you know it. The sea is fickle and
will turn its tide with little concern but to toss you from
its grave.”
“Jorden I must do what I must and not you, nor
the Noli, nor the Glifon , nor even the Great Shuka can
stop me.”
“Watch what you say Clarisa or the Great Shuka will
stop you.” Jorden’s features softened after this warning.
He knew.
I looked at my twin affectionately. For all that he
was, Shano of all trees and animals on land, he was
still my brother.
“Should I not return, defend Lishon with all you have. If
all goes well the frilena shall bloom once more in Lishon’s
courtyard.”
Jorden’s eyes glimmered like the wisps of freed droplets
from the surge of the cataclysmic rapids that was once calm.
He knew.
The Superhero Frog
Once upon a time,there was a frog named
Curious George
he swam in the lily pond and slept in a
hollow log,
It was a very comfortable place for a frog,
He swam and had great fun,
He warmed himself lying in the sun,
But George was often sad,lonely,and scared,
He didn't have any friends because no one
would dare,
Just because he was different, it seemed to
him no on cared.
All the town kids wouldn't play with him,
because of his long green sticky tongue and
his green skin,
Then one day, he heard some loud shouts!
He wondered what all the fuss was about,
He hippty-hopped through a hole in the
fence,
Then he was in grass so dense,
He could just barely see the sky,
This was how he got his name he was
always asking why?
But that was a question for another day,
For right now, he had to be on his way,
He hippity-hopped out on to the sidewalk,
He could hear some people talk,
But he just had to see,
What all the commotion could possibly,
possibly be,
Then he saw a little boy and girl playing ball
in the street,
They were not paying any attention to cars
or trucks they could meet,
An old rickety truck,with wobbly wheels,
bouncing springs, steam pouring from the
radiator spout,
went bouncing and wobbling down the street
with a clatter and bang,
the driver beep his horn happily along to his
song as he sang,
The kids and driver didn't hear the warning
shouts of
LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT!
George saw what was happening and quick
as a flash,
He hippity-hopped to the edge of the
sidewalk in a mad dash,
Then he stuck out his looooooonnnnnnnnng
sticky green tongue
as fffffffffffaaaaaaaaarrrr as he could,
He wrapped it around that boy and girl right
where they stood,
not enough space see my page,part 2 for the
rest of the story...
k river
8/12/14
I was an inscrutable, capricious mystery writer, like a pure mystery of days;
And I had composed best selling novels, like westering sun's scarlet phase.
An unparalleled passion for writing, had for quite long been the motivation,
Behind novels which captured hearts, like pink clouds, drifting in formation.
My office desk faced the picture window, near the border of riotous blooms;
And sunny views enriched often eager eyes, owing to birds of many plumes.
Friends were a forever force in my life, like the natural floods of floundering,
Or as sun and moon meet in an eclipse, darkening heyday, with no warning.
Fairy-like forests, and fields of colored flowers, flamed with furious abandon,
Frequently, as fulgent family found one, to dazzle brighter than amber sun!
I lived in the house of mist mysteries, in haze shrouded, mighty mountains;
And each cherry dawn doled surprises, like roving redbirds in the thousands.
So sleepy in sun-drenched summer, my silent street was stained with hues,
In new modern, stylish, songbird days, like a gold treasure you cannot lose.
Neighbors would navigate narcissistic night, bearing an apple pie, or a joke;
Sharing fun and noisy laughter, like a blue undersea volcano, magma awoke.
Birds swept peaks of sculpted, stunning mountains, in the hot, daisy season,
And sky and the earth merged twice a day, in affinity hues of love cohesion.
The naked man orchid shivered with breezes, like quivery trees of November,
And Johnny Jump Up puckered at lemon sun, like a sour taste remembered.
In a sapphire sea near the mountains, a friend and I set out sailing one day,
As a youth follows wildest, golden dreams. Yet, heavy fog descended to stay.
Were we heading for wide open water, or drifting to shores of purple flowers?
That danger held a lovely mystery, like adventure during the nighttime hours.
Hour after rosy hour, we were drifting blind. Our motor had long since died;
Like green butterflies, questing for hours, in a place pink daisies lately cried.
We were afraid of being lost forever, so Pearl and I joined hands and prayed,
Also praying for our downhearted families, if fate's hand would not be stayed.
After many anxious, vagrant moments, a foghorn sounded, loud and so near;
Our desperate prayers were answered, by the voice of our Savior, very dear!