Long Wretches Poems
Long Wretches Poems. Below are the most popular long Wretches by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wretches poems by poem length and keyword.
calling all mistreated jugglers
and wretches of condemned madhouses
bewitched by fingers of freak fame
the spindly fingers of trickster twins
that open the floodgates to occult caverns
unleashing the brusque wraiths
the brittle symmetry of her glacial eyes
cast down from the empyrean skies
as a sanctified abyss from ancient past
eyes as candlelit rectory windows
shining bright like voluptuous pyre
and ferryman’s lantern on turbid nights
calling all gritty peyote coyotes
gargoyles of noxious mind germination
whistling by the graves of stars
in the form of ravenous black holes
so vexed by the self-immolation of lovers
the musicality of their hearty asphyxia
tantalized through thick and thin
falling in cascade down the wailing well
how do we always end up vampirized
singing the longeval sardonic litanies
outliving the meteoric tremors
as monuments of the past tumble down
calling all incorporeal beasts
to swing the fate’s pendulum in effigie
and mourn the motheaten grandeur
of lofty and aged Victorian ancestry
within the reach of eternity’s gate
disemburdened and lost to the ether
melting at last in the muse’s embrace
eclipsed by the fading night gyrations
there’s no excuse not to leave in rapture
one last rainy walk by the derelict wharf
ready to fall down the fissures en masse
into the ruptures of our narcotic glossary
Love takes its toll on every faltering form
Minds are all a blur, a never-ending storm
They all in time take pleasure in other wretches’ pain
Relieving their blistery hearts, subsiding the pouring rain
And as they cite a verse or two, they write it from the heart
Though none of it makes sense at first, at least there is a start
Pandemonium takes the best of a masterpiece at hand
Letting it rot in loneliness, a forsaken piece of land
The mind is screaming sevenfold for comfort and a way
To make others see the good in all that lessens day by day
And the vultures soar upon the earth, with its rancid dead
Stealing away the masterpiece and detaining it instead
They cry in the gravel below for love to overthrow
Never will their cries be heard, and this I only know
For in a deathful life of toil they artfully may say
The words unsaid but written fresh, only to decay
To seep into the ground, and back into the trees
The lead and ink and everything…smearing us free
Note:***This poem is meant to be read from the bottom to the top, left to right
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Never Again
and you remain—
For the World has gone from me and fled
The stairway of my mind shall never end
I accept the fate with the grinning dead
Hello again demons, hello friends
I remain
Alas! I fall and I am done
Tell me where have you fled, my love, my friend?
For a moment I gaze upon the sun
Here I am on earth again
1 Stair Remains
Why can’t I be free?
Tell me, why aren’t they looking at thee?
Why are they looking at me?
2 Stairs Remain
The garments of comfort I long to wear
Knowing in my heart that I’ll never win
I skip that grimy third stair
Like most of my life has been
3 Stairs Remain
Though my infected feet leave bloodstains
I can’t release even a single tear
The poisons encompass my river of veins
I step on thorns of wrath and fear
Enshrouded with pain!
4 Stairs Remain
Oh, how am I to survive?
Relieve me from this ever-fixed sadness
Why can’t you just be alive?
Cease this madness!
5 Stairs Remain
As you breathe your very last breath
The devilish fiends laugh at me
They are blaming me for your death
The deaths of the masses are calling me
6 Stairs Remain
The carcasses you feed upon are glaring
Oh! vulturous world so full of greed
When everyone is staring
God, redeem me!
I just can’t succeed
7 Stairs Remain
Of other fiendish sins
And I feel the shivers
Drowned by the turbulent wind
My stale breath quivers
8 Stairs Remain
Though we all aren’t free
They laugh below in the hole where I fell
The demons are haunting, taunting me
Alone I wander blindly out of hell
9 Stairs Remain
And my will is close to gone…
The stairway continues on
Forever hungry, forever stale
I toil through death’s dark vale
10 Stairs Remain
Why can’t we be free?
My resistance is nearly gone
The wretches are watching, stalking me
I’m too exhausted to move on
Social influence that influence ones belief and behavior,
being the sheep idiom in suit of group as inferior identity savior.
Compliances and obedience for the hero or nymph resort,
names and numbers as taste for pleasure of the court.
Instructive expectations in order to avoid looking foolish,
becoming strong in unity of the mass psychology bliss.
Procrastinations to adhere to moral obligation,
bringing out the darkest impulse to justify that situation.
Large scale atrocities for the greater good as ideal,
manipulated propaganda consequence imperial.
The change in response to pressure of social norms,
ethical values in humanity political deforms.
The mediocrity of conformity and its karmic hungry judges,
sentence wretches in time by individual budges.
The mental mill keeps on turning with the wind,
where fiery spirits blaze by gravity and its many scent.
The revolution not out there in golden words brocade,
freeing oneself from controlling theories need to be displayed.
Being infinitely pliable defines the space to be responsible,
and the soul of the world will give ones everything possible.
No one listens
Cried, but no one cares
I need someone to hear me
Life full of monkey wretches
Complexity having no assurance
Mind wonders
Thinking far, but never close
The heart searches, but never a find
A world unsettled, but never kind
Heart bleeds
Uncontrollable responses
Compelled in the aftermath
Willowed
Dreams of tomorrow
Nightmares that appear
Crying alone
Effortless to try
No one understands
Guidance seems far off
One’s tomorrow is about living
Hard to relish the sustaining
Battling the wars within
Scars of many struggles
Fall on my knees in desperation
Father Help me
Here I am
Trapped in my troubles
Search me
Help me withstand
Open the door of understanding
Let wisdom educate
My Soul needs peace
Father Help me
Surrounded by locked Monkey Wretches.
Naked Clowns Demented Brother
Alas one disaster follows another,
naked clown - demented brother
dancing for the heads of state
asleep with faces in their plate
and as the rubber chicken stretches
they send again the fool who fetches
red noses from downtrodden wretches
to decorate the wedding cakes
join the real to crumbling fakes
camouflage who gives and takes
shifting weight of global heat
melting shoes on city street
to shrinking ice caps tidal creep
rising under Al Gore’s jeep
clowns, they squeeze their bulbous horns,
geneticize the rose – no thorns
while warning us of sunless dawns
their seltzer bottles but a prop
sprayed on a fire that won’t stop
its cindering of nature’s crop
Alas, the clowns will all save face
disappear without a trace
disguise their noses as thorn-less roses
post naked “selfies” in heroes poses
Alas one disaster follows another,
naked clown – demented brother.
John G. Lawless
©7/13/2017
Lord, in Your greatness
Grant me peace
To look upon my bretheren poor
And hatred for to cease.
Let me not from my place on high
Look on wretches with pity
Grant me sense to be one with them,
Grant me humility.
For who am I but Your own toy
Who You made more fortunate,
Gave me all that I need
And many reasons to celebrate.
I thank Thee, Lord, for my gifted mind
For house and home and family
And I thank Thee for a healthy frame
And vision for my mind to see.
I ask not for riches, exceeding fame,
For pelf and power, I do not sigh.
Lord, grant me the strength
To look a fellow in the eye!
Form:
But they look at me with pride
To have carried the silence
To have carried you this far
They hear the humming of the car
As your hand caresses my burning window
Your mood ring turns brown
Driving me faster towards the graveyard
Where the dead will listen
Where the lies will glisten
Listen. . .LISTEN
Don’t ignore the little voices!
JUST LISTEN!
They want everything they are not
Even as they rot, the voices rise
As your cares die
As the baffled pride rides through the night
I carry more and more wretches
Away from the lies. . .away from the cries
Their existence forgotten and aching
What a tough decision I am stuck to making!
Preparing the dough in this cursed hearse
My backdoor opening, BURNING
Letting the souls slide inside me
Get in everyone. . .
One by one
As they grin. . .they know only what appears
WHY ME!?
CAN’T YOU HEAR!?
Can’t you LISTEN. . .LISTEN!
Close your eyes
The hearse is nothing—hear the cries!
And they are NOT mine
NEVER MINE
Swallowing lies. . .saying goodbyes
I parallel park for the night
On the silent, red curb
The sanctuary of the ignored
They touch me but dare not look inside
Groups of laughing noise surrounding us
As I try to uncover them—to strengthen their wilted throats
But they are deaf and blinded
And all is for naught
There is a small soul within every crowd
A soft voice against the senile bickering of the strong
And the small souls wish they would listen
mindless Frankenstein,
single-minded,
and her voracious, faithful dog
with a seventy-foot tail,
lifting carpets, sliding sofas,
slurping everything in sight,
with a bottomless pit for an appetite,
metal, insects, dead mice, coins,
fingernail clippings, fleas, spider brains -
It gurgles and wretches
over paper scraps from childish sketches,
embarrassing for a howling dog,
who wears his name, Hoover, in a stamp
on his bulging side,
a reverse Pandora's box of a canine,
pop him and you see all
your old friends again,
dreams long dead, come alive,
but he's roaring like a
dragon in a Godzilla audition,
and he's got you in his crosshairs,
with a Duranteater snout,
as Ms. Frankenstein squints,
looking for hints,
turning every stone,
so, you gotta keep movin.
she's got murder in her eye.
she won't bake you in pie.
you won't even die.
she's gonna put you in oblivion.
every bit of dirt is gone.
only, you, the dirt king,
emperor of disgust,
crown prince of crud,
evade her tenacity.
finally, sleeping soundly
on a chair's bottom side,
as she falls with a thud,
and Fido hides in the corner,
moaning.
Consumed by The Widow Spider
The wretches of life are gone,
from the weathered of a peaceful place,
lived once in a playful soul?
Feasting upon his flesh the widow,
bite by bite, bit by bit,
hurting from inside, he hurt.
Does he deserve to be noticed,
when he clings to the emptiness of a soul, that he sings.
Then a storm came,
swiftly it consumed him in the rolling that burns the flesh.
The cries of torments are touched,
only if it steps outside in a confusion of nothingness.
What am I to do in a land that has no care,
as a wilder beast searches his prey?
Look, look he cries,
stumbling and the beast that was near,
devoured him,
which he desired to take of the nothingness that left him to be.
What else he says,
what else, he tries to scream.
The nothingness did he let out,
he fell into a slumber of his bleeding death.
His thoughts had wakened.
Had he been deceived by the widow spider that spun him up?
At his fate,
he knows the torments of his death.