Long Wick Poems
Long Wick Poems. Below are the most popular long Wick by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wick poems by poem length and keyword.
Religion is melting humanity’s wit
As a wildfire burning brains
A fire set by a madman, long ago lit
Scorching the stupid, the weak and insane
Infant minds, the flames pummel and lash
They suffocate men from their birth
Doctrines’ smoke, polluted with ash
Has confused and clouded this Earth
A forest flash, a hellfire crash
Is salvation’s light and sound?
Sparks ablaze from dogma’s clash
Is consuming fire found?
Raze it not, protect this ground
With a sterling sire’s might
Nurture saplings, grow this mound
With amaranthine light
Bring not this fertile forest round
To a long inferno night
But with a wick, and wax as bounds
Give your candlelight
It is a night creamed by melting darkness.
Fireflies are obsessed with secrecy tonight
And dim their lights cautiously, frugally.
Crickets and cicadas crepitate with muted
Feelings, sallying wretched, orphaned tadpoles.
I cringe from traditional horror,
Wincing with the power of concern.
Lest I forget, the moon travelled out of town.
The constellation was keeping wake in the outer
Universe, where stars were hired for their lights.
There’s a nocturnal feast going on somewhere
Dimly deep, remotely perturbed,
Beyond the barren brooks beneath transmontane lands.
I hear sounds of distant drums which are silent
On the shoulders of beleaguered cliffs.
They sound like they are being beaten by fettered hands.
Such throbs trouble me.
I hate to be the first to announce the obituary of poets
And musicians, but this moment stifles my resilience.
Darkness lingers with either fortitude or arrogance,
Reminding me of the desolation of higher, clammy
Terrains and narrow footpaths
Where they once schlepped —veterans who went to
Confront the beasts coming for our souls and blood....
I plod on to the place of the throbs,
Accompanied by flickering lights.
But on getting there, the smell of abandonment
Creases my ribs and furrows my brows.
The emptiness, the absence of man and beast
Run my wandering feet cold
I felt lost — like a lone, withered grain in a deep,
Battered straw sack with tiny, lonesome holes.
Itches depress my glabella.
I come late with the issue of remembrances.
Something must be wrong with the night, the illusion,
The world, the fantasies...
Something must be wrong with me.
This orgy of wondering!
The night sleeps on with retired quietude, plenitude.
I retire as well, my bamboo bed squeaking with the
Deliberate noise of the fluttering tongue of flame on
The wick of my oil lamp.
Each cup of silence I drank took me back the way I came —
The tenuous, lonesome, hilly, jagged route I had schlepped,
Drunk with the orgy of the wilful drums and the elated flutes.
My journey was meaningless —like a generation that hardly heard of
Michelangelo, let alone Bernini.
spoke kin like
a true non establishmentarian.
Wily wordsmith wields wisdom and wit
renders requiem welcoming thee to visit,
no matter foisting poetic riffraff (mine)
necessitates applying figurative tourniquet
to staunch potential
life threatening hemorrhage
oozing out fifty shades of
your gray cerebral moon unit,
thus best be extremely cautious
heed warning to preserve
self interest and quit
while ahead, i.e. stop reading
and surreptitiously exit,
now lest noggin contents
rendered into pureed blivit
causing irrevocable damage,
now just for fun grab
amusement park ride ticket,
and picture yourself
in a boat on a river
squarely bobbing along...
barely staying afloat
courtesy soaked sponge square pants
within skeletal ricket
tee skiff analogous to
time warped white picket
fence forever lost and seasick
out of desperation imploring malefic
powers that be while moored thick
within (think) Scylla and Charybdis
not caring a lick
despite super tramping cheap trick
worse fate than death,
where metaphorical flick
finds one human flotsam and jetsam (ye)
violently sucked into realm wick
head witch, which
in toto along metaphorical yellow brick
road nsync cues soundcloud
faintly reminiscent of Herman's hermit
mid nineteen sixties approximate
time Beatles made mop top headlines
both bands selling
one after another smash hit,
where half crazed lasses frenziedly
screamed and threw maniacal fit
activating advent of groupies
they made nun sense sickle habit
to shadow many rock and roll band
initially majority identifying as Brit
nowadays global musical hodgepodge
synthesized linkedin with fitbit.
Used by all to see the sights
Centuries of power cutting through darkness
Hand in front of flame as you walk carefully
with candle light.
Strike a match lighting each wick
The cakes a glow celebration of another year
Make a wish and blow out candle light.
A tub of warmed water and cloth relieving the
day’s stresses, light switch to off room's a glow
from candle light.
A romantic moment dinner made with passion
Overcome with anticipation your guest arrives
The wine is poured dinner for two by candle light.
It’s festive times traditional songs we sing
House to house we go that eve with carol
Lyrics flickering from candle light.
At times of need and reflection found at the shrine
We kneel down in prayer with heavy thought and hart
Comes your offering through candle light.
A gathering a vigil a remembrance of one’s place
A single flame is lit, down the line it goes
As the crowd grows brighter showing unity and
compassion from all through candle light.
Celebrations mood grief and passion come to life
giving each moment deeper meaning
in the presence of candle light.
-KR-
I shot you in the eye still you won't lie down and die ( jus die cos I say so)
I made the rules to say what's cool
but your ruse is to be cool outside the rules ( you won't listen, makes me mad)
I made a nice little box just for you
that you refuse to be stuffed into (quit fidgeting please)
To have it my way is what I'm used to, I won't lie about that
Want you to toe the line, your toe on the line is what I wish to see
Do as I say, what I say is what I want you to do ( right now, jus do it right now)
Be exactly who I say you are, who I want you to be is exactly who you ought to be
To have it my way is what I'm used to, I won't lie about that
Say only what I want you to say, I want you to voice only what I want to hear
Your full on persona so overbearing often times ( really does my head in too, mind you)
I need you to go ahead and tone it down a teensy wensy bit
Do dilute the strength of your essence while you are on the job
Your radiance just too blinding for my liking (out of my sight please)
I'm gonna need you to dull your shine just a little bit
Maybe you could wane that massive flame on your wick (that's the trick to try)
Cos to have it my way is what I'm used to, I won't lie about that
Shot your other eye out still you won't lie down and die (jus die cos I say so already!)
Let me have it my way it's what I'm used to, I just won't lie about that.
fertilization upon ovule
via spermatozoa automatically
gearing linkedin anticipated birth
especially upon confirmation conception
did sex seed
after numerous attempts dispelled dearth
as probable odds
finally wrought hardy sea men
to stoke the womb
spelling biological chances
that, fecund female will evince swollen girth
the longest time tested oven since humans
found warmth
amidst flint stoned sparked hearth
and fraught with utmost joy
at prospective parent hood
which, (lemme here
collective soulful sigh of relief)
that *****Sapiens
durability foretold tubby good
thenceforth extra mouth
to feed necessitated larder of food
which harvests
must be plenti full to appease gods,
and bank on siblings
to beget appreciable brood
hence existence extant for millennia
fastened tight like umbilical cord
sustaining potential life in utero
in due time dilating cervix will a ford
signal (predicated on natural bio rhythms),
whence that cub hoard will be a saving grace
(amazingly innate survival skills) noel lord
could ever conceive,
an instinctual attribute moored
within early forebears of modern mankind,
an explicit genetic haversack
microscopically pitch perfect (NON GMO,
gluten free trade) blend poured
with just the exact consistency,
flexibility, and resiliency
(in case a lion, tiger or bear roared)
as adrenaline pumped woman within family way
to escape let incubating progeny shored
when time and tide informed clandestine
cherished, fortified, prized oh ward
whence healthy birth of baby feted,
festooned with garlands engineered ahead
reflecting golden halo
akin to a ring of bright waters
thence new born and maternal figure
ferreted nested in feathered bed
which, didst double up when dread
locked spar ring human,
whence grim reaper got fed
another mortal, which body froze
with rigor mortis heavier like a led
zeppelin versus when person alive in stead
no heroic measures extant
when grim reaper came quick
advent chore of early primates could not treat nor trick
the scythe lent hooded body snatcher
as candle box didst flickr
burning down tallowed wick.
Beyond the Wire
another day in country
we shuffled out beyond the wire
our platoon’s mission
search and destroy
the air was hot and humid
like a sauna with no relief
the jungle closed in on us
wrapping us in a green cloak
blocking out the sun
Johnson, on point, was
out in front probing
for the enemy
hoping the day
would end peacefully
we spread out
lessoning our chances
of becoming an easy target
our heavy packs weighed on us
as we humped twenty klicks
without a break
our jungle fatigues
failed to wick sweat away
from our bodies leaving
us feeling as though
a monsoon had soaked us
we reached the village
and began searching each hootch carefully
ripping up flooring looking
for the hidden enemy
when we had finished searching
we pulled our Zippos from
our pockets and lit
the dry straw that served as
the roof on each one
and watched as each one roared up
in flames like a Roman candle on July 4
our lieutenant signaled for us to
take a break and we sat among
the debris some smoking
cigarettes others smoking reefer
our day was a success
no one was
going home in a body bag
One Nine and Sixteen What Are We Fighting For
Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
Once used to stitch fabric and other materials
Invented during the first Industrial Revolution
A state of armed conflict between differences
Nations, states different groups within a nation or state
Wage war conflict take up arms fight against
Engage in a war why and what for
Sewn up emotions tattered minds and clothes what are we fighting for
The war years seemed like only yesterday
God has lit up the universe, the world with waxen clay
Leaving us mankind as caretakers
We are the wax He's molded we're shaken
We're placed on His shoulders to see the light
Created in His image we are His light
I'm cylinder of wax wick that is lit to produce light that's seen and shown
The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark
04/22/18
Sponsored by: Viv Wigley
For One Nine and Sixteen - Poetry Contest
The shadows descend in a velvet embrace,
To swallow the sun and dismantle the day,
And night, like a priestess of silence and space,
Extends a dark chalice of silver and gray.
I stand at the lip of this hollow profound,
Where starlight is poured like a shimmering wine,
And loose from my spirit, without any sound,
The loops and the coils that the daylight confined.
I filled the night’s chalice with knots of desire,
With tangles of wishes too wild for the sun,
With cords made of hunger and ribbons of fire,
All twisted and braided and deftly spun.
Each knot is a secret, a promise, a plea,
A lock of a passion that refuses to break,
A pattern of all that I long for to be,
Cast into the cup for the darkness to take.
The first is a tether of memory and bone,
The ache of a hand that I once used to hold,
A grief that has hardened to beautiful stone,
A story that never was properly told.
I drop it down deep where the shadows are thick,
It sinks like an anchor through currents of air,
While memory burns like a narrowing wick,
And leaves only incense and longing down there.
The next is a knot of a future unknown,
A tangle of hope that is sharp as a blade,
The seeds of a garden that never was grown,
The drafts of a kingdom that never was made.
It twists with ambition, it pulses with fright,
A maze of tomorrow, a labyrinth of gold,
I drop it into the wide throat of the night,
To let the vast quietness watch it unfold.
And deeper they fall, these intricate ties,
Of love that is lawless and wild as the sea,
Of questions that look to the unmoving skies,
Of all that I am and all I wish to be.
The chalice accepts them, the vessel is vast,
It drinks down the tension, the pull, and the strain,
Absorbing the future, consuming the past,
And soothing the throb of an intimate pain.
The cup is now brimming with silver and ash,
With interwoven dreams that are heavy and deep,
Where currents of passion silently clash,
Before they are drowned in the ocean of sleep.
The knots are all cast, and the fabric is spun,
The chalice is heavy with all I require,
And there I shall leave them, until the new sun,
Dissolves every thread of my knotted desire.
Part Two of the Fun Series...if you haven't read Part One, Half-Fast Fun, please do so! Thanks~ #JWE
Constantly, I am trying…
Not to cry and die away inside…
Quit lying and replying
To my sighing that I can’t hide
Jealous of me? Why you mad at me?
Oh please…don’t even...
Sia gave me chance to dance…funny?
I’m a tease…saw you leaving…
I won’t grieve for your front door slamming…your shame spamming…
My thrills are priceless and you keep acting a pill
Let me breathe and unwind…sick of society's deceived programming
The piling bills on the table were left unpaid still
Stressed, hardly anywhere to go and no one knows
Release me from this rut with sympathy that shows
God tells me to start again…
Sins erased seven times seven…
Where have you wandered off to?
Have you gone astray too? Is that true?
That’s right…don’t be a hypocrite
You make mistakes as well as me, we do choose
So, quit being mean with wicked wit
Bring up good topics without any further issues
I listen to music…yes, you heard me regardless like a beat so sick
Music does, for real, heal…
A torn, forlorn soul and therapeutically provides fire to the wick
Helps me to feel and deal
Don’t make me low when I am high
Because you are low and blue
Be nice and so will I…and so will I…
Afraid and ashamed, who knew
Was pretty mad,
Now, I’m glad
Not sad
Not, not anymore
Sorry you and I were bad…
Sore – no, no more
We had
Times so rad
Vanished like ad
I listen to music…yes, you heard me regardless like a beat so sick
Music does, for real, heal…
A torn, forlorn soul and therapeutically provides fire to the wick
Helps me to feel and deal
This time, I'll eventually sleep away
My problems tonight, I have to say
Don’t hurt me so like you done in success…
Or you’re next with future sadness that is of the abyss
Instead, I will repay you with forgiveness
I'll never hold grudges, forget it
Some people can act loveless and careless
Live with it and deal with it a bit
I listen to music…yes, you heard me regardless like a beat so sick
Music does, for real, heal…
A torn, forlorn soul and therapeutically provides fire to the wick
Helps me to feel and deal
Full-blast fun – for real…a filling meal
It’s hard to conceal it, so I will reveal…
Turn the wheel as you and I appeal