Long Wilful Poems

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


Satan's Outcasts - Satire

Heaven offers tickets to any citizen
           Adhering to good behaviour, as Richard
            Sin washed virtuous shines richeous
           Permitted exclusive afterlife purchase


Richard prided himself on his neat appearance 
Inside out Bible marked imbibed coherence 
Nourised by 7am museli, leaving home soon after 
Publisher for Eternal week days, on Sunday a pastor

Sermon prepared carefully, time consumed him
Pinnacle of Lord days pointed to duty resuming 
Shared redemption message with congregation 
Ensured wavering faith was infiltrated by elation 

Devoted volunteer, full schedule proportionate
Monthly soup kitchen duty served less fortunate 
Ten pm delivery of left over to his Mother's house
Widow nearing ninety, not readily able to get out

Forsaken God fearer one fateful day struck down
by hooligan during dawn walk in neighbourhood renowned 
for echoing homes, high hedge edges hide pedestrians 
Tyre tattooed road kill, dislodged by reckless heathan

Bedside machines duly beeped his fragile existence 
Sacrifice of admired man to stagnant predicament! 
Moral loyalty, immaculately ironed, full dedication
Could it be God had ordered his early eradication? 

Flatlined screen, pulse serene denotes one way entry
To harp plucking, angel hosted, cloud palace heavenly
Proclaimed as reward, rule abiders' final destination 
For the followers of God's word, a deserved salvation 

Picket fence of precious metal keeps the sinners out
White ground expanse supports people equally touted
As pray-ers, obeyers, having delayed gratification
Burying bad tendancies for kingdom of imagination 

Cloud haven loungers hear filtered sound of festivity
Scantily clad wilful tribal fire-side dancers devilish
Grins closed only to kiss ridiculous Mother marijuana 
Eternity unconfirmed, turmultous tenure harnessed



27th June
Satire Saturday  

Tongue in cheek contraversy needs no translation
Manic imaginings account for all inclinations!
Form: Couplet


Premium Member The Night Sky Lights Up

It's early autumn no rain for several months
long grass in the paddocks  becomes tinder dry
Fires are burning closely to produce a pall of heavy smoke
which is hanging thickly, low down in the sky

Today a raging eighty kilometre per hour dry wind
is blowing from the north
The fires are moving closer 
makes one think what life is really worth

Temperature is close to forty celsius degrees
 low humidity hovers at around almost six per cent
The smell of acrid smoke 
alerts the olfactory scent

Nightfall has arrived now there's an eerie glow
encircling all of us will  it come to hound ?
The wind adds to the drama 
as it makes a roaring sound

Mother decides it's time to make a move, seek safety
abandon the old farm family home
We pile into the car. on a tractor track up a long steep hill to a paddock recently been ploughed
we move into the middle of this chosen safety zone

The fire burns in forest litter  lying down below 
and also high up in each and every leaf
We watch in awe these flames that spread so rapidly
at a speed almost way beyond belief

The glow from forest flames
almost reaches daytime bright
The embers in oily eucalypt foliage 
with stored energy rapidly ignite

Wind alone is not the only spreading catalyst
Hawks gather burning sticks to drop ahead of the main fire
Stirs up hordes of insects
 as the food which they desire

There is often blame put upon the greenies
for the ignition of these wildfires
Big  fires in Victoria in nineteen thirty nine
well before the greenies as scapegoats did arise

Many of these fires deliberately lit, even firemen
charged with arson, being caught in this wilful act
Fires floods hurricanes tsunamis volcanoes
all a part of nature which has a huge impact
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Cutting Through Silence

in a moment that gave her a semblance of clarity

my Mom expressed without a shadow of doubt

at long last I am allowed to do and say as I want
	
          it had been a very unhappy marriage
	
          she had felt dominated and oppressed

	  but played her part in wilful collusion

dementia had robbed her off a functioning body

her mind was not even now a beautiful place

which it might have been had she made it to be

          maybe the war was to blame for despair

	  the convention of until death do us part

	  partnership on an unequal playing field

I will throw myself into the cold river to perish

but before I drown I will stab you with a dagger

into your heart and draw blood and just retribution

          darling remember that you are a champion
	
          of swimming and therefore you will float

	  but it haunted Dad until his natural passing

why does she turn a knife in my soul to hurt me

have I not looked after her and gave her my love

there never was an ill-fated weight in our union

	  it is not your wife speaking but the illness
	
          but he would not let go and therefore I told

	  of her sadness misery and utter dejection

how do you know she never said a single word of it

because she confided in me ever since I was a child

hid behind my rebellion and consulted me for support

	  I never knew whether it was the right thing

	  to speak because I don’t and he is now gone

	  maybe I owed it to Mom and he thanked me

looking back in sadness about her never having a voice

me the sounding board for her agony and contempt

I am not sure who suffered most from the switchblade

	  but self-laceration was never far from her skin

	  of course there have been happier memories

	  but I cannot brush over the darkness and anger

I love you with all my soul innocence and wisdom of age

ingested your love and felt comfort kindness compassion

but the pure thrust of a skean left an unforgettable mark


28th March 2021

Mother Poetry Contest

Sponsor Constance La France

Premium Member Blank Sheet

No proffered clue of what may lie within,
Less certain even than a new day's start,
Or understanding in a new born babe,
More wilful than a frisky untried colt,
Capricious as a harvest time delayed,
Unblemished uncut gemstone, ever pure,
No hidden meanings, no deep thoughts obscure,
No start, no end, no labyrinthine plot,
A virgin waiting to be wooed and won,
A bubbling, overflowing melting pot,
A testing marathon not yet begun.
Confusing fog or blinding blizzard,
No clear direction from a guiding wizard.
Time stands still, as does the Earth, and breathing,
The moment cannot wait, and now, believing,
The cursor hits the page. The deed is done.
To this embrace the virgin must succumb.
© Peter Rees  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Computer Desk


On a desk, heaps of books and papers lie,
A bundle of wires, a puzzling surprise,
An honest handmaid, a modest laptop,
That lights bright and clinches words at a prop.

With touch of the keys, it moves to and fro,
Though not a grand device, it seems to know,
With trace of the fingers, the links to chase,
Across the extensive digital space.

A tangled spread of cables of black hue,
Stretch on the desk, like a sleeping snake true, 
A forgotten pen, a treasured note book,
On which some brilliant quotes and thoughts are hooked.

A wilful webcam watches, ever keen,
To capture lovely  moments, raw and seen.
It eyes the thoughtless yawns, the pensive frowns
And nose, as oft user dozes around.

A printer sits nearby in dull silence
Until it`s asked to come in prominence
With woeful whirs and creaking printing sighs,
Beneath its multiple observant eyes.

At the desk, a fluorescent lamp one wields,
Illuminating this packed working field,
Holding in its sway in the creative life,
A spring of joy, a sober source of strife.

Though the computer desk is worn and old,
It holds unending stories to be told,
A hearty humble haven, strong and free,
The centre of the world for folks like me.

It is where one triumphs, where one  may fail,
Where sublime stories start and journeys trail,
 A loving laptop desk, set as per wish,
Is the seat and  the source of endless bliss.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Inner Alignment

Life going by for most
In vacuity like a ghost 
Unable to vitalise
The divine within to rise
The oft felt inner stirring
Needing tender attending
Yet our wilful neglect
Inability to stand erect
In mind-heart alignment 
Blocks bliss contentment 
Whilst by simply being still
Our cup of joy overspills
Automatically 
Enigmatically
As layer by layer
Discarding fear we uncover
Magnetic electricity
Elixir of divine connectivity
As this nectar we imbibe
Bliss words cannot describe 
Pulsates within in renewal
Rapture in ignition continual 
Consciousness bliss shift
Leaves all else save love adrift
Mind-body thus in resonation
With pulse of the Ohm vibration 

Ohm the quietus
Leaving no hiatus

Within
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Killick


                              Killick


Sailing across the voyage of life
Amidst witty wilful waves of trials
Often subdued with wicked wily spells of pains
Buffeted below the belt by wild woeful winds
Faith ever serves me as my killick 
Never lets my boat run astray
Day and night holds me to the shore
Averts my drifting against rocks of despair 
Holds me firm during tempestuous gales
Secures me during winters of distress.

When darkness of night veils my life
When hands of fate deal me massive blows
When clouds of loneliness enrol me
When the low tide subdues my spirit,
The killick, as a guardian angel, 
Softly whispers in my dainty ears
To gaze at the heavens with flame of faith high  
Comforts me its vigil will outlast my breath
And it will keep me company till judgment day
When my soul reaches the celestial sky.

The Lament of the Prodigal Son

Part of my inheritance I did receive,
Though unworthy was I that gift to conceive;
Younger in mind, and wilful in thought,
I went to a distant land and squandered what I brought.

I wasted my Father’s gift in a wanton way;
From Grace I departed, and fell far astray.
Then, passing into spiritual insensibility,
The husks of the swine I desired to share,
Whose keeper I was—yet none would spare;
I longed to eat what they were given,
Yet no man gave me aught, though I was driven.

Thus was my soul perishing, bereft of all answer,
Having lost the dignity of sonship I bore;
Not merely as a hireling, for some wage,
But even as an unworthy slave.

How shall I return, when I have no boldness to plead?
I see how my brethren thy commandments heed;
Their obedience they keep, without blame,
While I have cast away my sonship and name.

O Father, I have sinned; I have gone astray—
Yet behold my repentance, and look on me, I pray.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Jingles

do not simply dawdle and diddle
for life may pass as a twinkle 
hardly any time to drag and dawdle
in life, joy and sorrow may mix and mingle
before your powers diminish and dwindle, 
enjoy it wilful as a child cheerily toying with shingles

for a change, play on the flute or fiddle 
and on your toes, twirl and twiddle
or go for a walk with your funny, furry poodle 
or write a peaceful placid idyll,
could even be a distrait doodle 

life that is a tricky and ticklish  riddle
is never a puddle for you to muddle
but is to clasp, caress and cuddle 
let it ring with a jangle or jingle 

even when you are sickeningly single
smile, showing your dented dimple
as stars in the sky wink, blink and twinkle


Sep.1.2022

First published in 2021
~ Placed Second~
Alliteration- Old or New Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Joseph May

Premium Member LISTEN to the Wind

LISTEN to the wind, howling like a baying wolf! 
With a high-pitched voice, relentless as it cries.
Circling around the trees in search of prey
Pushing aside the leaves, rattling its chains.
Competing with the rain, as it takes control.
Whistling in jest, as builds and gains more strength.
Boosting momentum with wreaking havoc in mind
Oblivious, to those hiding under cover.
Watching and listening to its awful roar
As it sweeps away any object in its path.
Relentless now, its laugh is evil and loud.
Swirling and sashaying down every path.
Gaily painting a picture of devastation
Relishing in its strength and force of destruction.
A force that no man can tame, once released.
Running amok, as it has its wilful way.
Yet, once winds force is spent, will cast off its demon.
Cool down, taking a gentle calming breath. 
Return to its former refreshing breeze.
Yes, LISTEN to the wind, as it sweetly sighs.

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