Lurked Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Premium Member The Truth Is In Wine

As I travelled, the earth seemed round
Now it turns out flat
I’ve become a lurked homebound  
Or something like that
I fell for a big mistake
Immigration police went mental 
Claimed my bank account was fake
And I dream to settle
In their land of milk and honey
Living secretly
And most likely begging money
Quite vehemently 
So I lost my interest
In rounding the earth
No more plans to be a guest
Of the hosts ungenerous 
And I couldn’t get to you
Dear love of mine
Now it seems that we both knew
That our truth’s in wine.

Twinkling Of An Eye

I once was unlovable, till Gods love touched me,
as His truths, opened my eyes, now I can see.
Who can I not love, with the love God has give,
now I give life to others, so they can also live.
  As I seek the truths, of who I am, you see,
I had to face the ways, that I came to be.
  I am no stranger, to the darkness that lurked inside,
but now in the truth, daily I abide.
 To love others as I love myself, you see,
to forgive them as God has forgiven me.
 To walk and do those things I say,
in the Spirit of Goodness, each and every day.
 For truly, in a moment in the twinkling of an eye, you will see,
the truth of thoughts, feelings and emotions just what they truly be.

Premium Member Existential Uncertainty


Across life’s ambiguous dynamic landscape, 
the misty highway in the unclear topography
winded with the weary wheel of time. 
I traced the faint footprints of blurred destiny 
to the hazy future taking shape in abstraction

In the quicksand of expectation hollow inside,
the shapeless shadows of dismal danger 
of devouring desolation lurked.
As the debris of desires subtly subsided,
morose miasma permeated life’s vague void.

Following dormant diktat of destined providence,
listless life lumbered in the indistinct path. 
Released from the karmic essence of being 
I freed my mortal epitome from equivocal existence;
the patina of pristine peace I then embraced.

Searching within I discerned the divine galaxy, 
illumining life’s tangible intent in the haze, 
defining the pathway of the journey of faith 
through the intricate maze of mundane muddle, 
away from the labyrinth of existential uncertainty.


The Lighthouse

On the shoreline,
I was built
A lighthouse.
Before I could learn
The pattern of the tides
That would wash away
My fresh coat of paint.

When night falls,
The horizon shifts
From its warming farewell
To an unsettling darkness,
Hiding everything in sight.

As the lighthouse,
Built with a lantern
Bright as a thousand suns,
It became my responsibility,
To guide the smaller ships
Back home to safety,
From what lurked within
The darkness coating the seas.

Then bigger ships,
Exploited what light
I could provide.
Before long,
Everyone gathered in the glow
From my burning lantern,
Taking advantage of the second daylight,
Making sure 
They made it home
To their loved ones,
In time for a home-cooked meal.

I stayed rooted to the rocks,
Storm after storm,
Night after night.
I kept my lantern burning.
Don’t get me wrong,
I love what I do.
If those ships never returned,
Because I wasn’t there,
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

Still, I dream
Of one day
When the seas calm
And my light is no longer needed.
I could leave
What's left of this harbour
And finally
Light my own way.

Premium Member The Selfish Egos of War

"I am great. I'm an elephant in strength.
I'm a lion, tiger, bear, and beaver.
I can measure things by their breadth and length.
Am I not the globe's greatest achiever?"

Thus, the ruler said and proclaimed a war.
Things turned into a hustle and bustle.
Terror and tension lurked in each one's core.
Nature, with an anguish, seemed to rustle.

Artillery and anti-tank missiles
With naval and air-based weaponry clashed.
Amidst thunderous blasts, roars, and whistles
Unquenched egos, into shells, crashed.

Blood, from the wounds of the soldiers, bubbled.
Deaths and decays of the humans doubled.

Drunk in Punxsutawney on that Beantown Bust Again

Me – Irish catlick working class:
mantillas, martyrs, Maynooth, Mass.
You – a literal Lutheran lass,
all pretzels, prenups, Mama Cass.

It never could have ever worked:
those ambiguities that lurked
were knees that, one day, would have jerked,
and we’d have wound up Douglas Sirked.

Your Nancy Clutter beats my Holden
(less Marlon Brando, more Karl Malden).
The pond we’re on was never golden –
winter white-out wiped out Walden.
 
I would have wearied of your sermons,
short Sheridans and shallow Shermans,
your Sophie Tuckers, Ethel Mermans,
poe-faced Pennsylvania Germans.

Ignore the stranger on the shore,
by Stan and Stella set no store.
Don’t give a damn what Della wore,
or Mary Tyler any more.


Premium Member MEMORY OF YOUTH

 

I seldom spoke words,
spending my days quite alone,
imagining make believe.

But a poet lurked,
buried beneath my shyness,
till my petals opened wide !

Shadow, Sail

O my shadow, sail away.
Be thou far from me.
Morning deadly, thou art grey.
Poison, hear my plea.

Torn apart, O tones of time?
Nerves inside us, roil.
Countenance of bitter crime!
Belladonna, boil!

River, in thy deepest cave.
Giant, see thy grave.
Sidewalk cracked and needing pave.
Savior, time to save.

Armies of forgotten gone!
Tend thy fiercest rage!
Blackout, blossom! O my swan!
Broken, O my cage!

Automaton, mad machine!
Envy turned them green!
Roundabout run red! I deen?
Just what have I seen?

Moon above, thy fullest.
Lunatic, thy fringe.
Fill the brazen bull? Best!
Murder, on the binge!

Great queens, from thy black abyss!
Give the end a kiss!
Such a night! What lurked in this?
Serpent, time to hiss!

Hope, accrue? What do we do?
Magnetize the flue!
Stick together just like glue!
Make the whole world new...

Premium Member Perfume Bottle

She kept her scent in the refrigerator
off and on upon the rack of Chenin Blanc,
or, in the door, with grey poupon and sour milk
where it, perforce, would topple upon the floor
when opened with any gentle, manly force.
At times, it would be lost among the yellow
golden citrus within the crisper drawer
or, it lurked, disguised behind an OJ carton
pretending to be a jar of marmalade:
so way, way beyond the ken of him to find.
And yet, with her, a flick of the door, a spritz
of Jasmine, gardenia, basil, orange, peach,
which pursued the flowing silken scarves she wore.
“Come, let’s go, we have a party to attend.”
She’d say, “What are you staring at, my sweetie?”

Just an empty perfume bottle, by the milk.

Premium Member A Spark of Life

That night, in the park, it started with a spark,
It lurked in the trees and swallowed the dark.
Like a serpent, it slithered, racing to and fro,
When it hit the apartment, the chaos would grow!

Trapped! Some of them jumped, while the rest of them fried,
I could hear the screams of the people inside.
Raging death would rage higher, a funeral pyre,
All swimming in vain, in a cauldron of fire!

It was as if...Madness!, was calling my name,
Remains were ablaze, a spectacle of flame.
I stood in horror, as such horror would unfold,
I called out to God, but God put me on hold!

The Shadow

At The Dawn of My Time
The Light shone so brightly it blinded my sight
But with its warmth and promise of opportunity
I reveled in the notion of optimism and its delight

He lurked behind my back
Staying out of my site, I hardly knew He was there
Silently watching, waiting, looking over my shoulder
But in my youth, I barely had a care

At the Meridiem of My Time
I thrived, as I was powerful and strong
My senses keen, my focus unwavering
I felt invincible and could do no wrong 

I barely gave Him a thought 
I became curious once, but He could not be found 
Then I caught a glimpse of Him … under my feet 
Triumphant, I was sure a new King had been crowned 

But now, in the Twilight of My Time
I struggle to make sense of it all
What once seemed to be victory 
I now see was the pride before the fall 

And now He looms in front of me
Every moment His presence is known
And as those who have gone before me
I know I must face Him alone

As He outstretches His arms
And the last flicker of light is done
His darkness consumes me
And, forever, we are One

Premium Member Deep fake'

On second take..Lowe is not that great.' In fact i hear of
Late.' He wants 'bio meat on our plates?' Its beyond the
Pale.' Its all lookng stale, i beleive its time ti bale.' I had
Hoped against hope; for better.' Yet he's another bird of
False feather.' Along with Farage? Although giving and
Asking for it (large!) In support i mean.' What a dejecting
Scene is seen.' Yet to be fair (their was an irk) between
My shoulder blades it lurked.! So i must jettison any writes
Of support.. This type of skull-duggery appeares fully rife.?
( I must choose!) Ashby versus White..I do not consent in
Ink' to write.)

Premium Member WONDER WOMAN GRANDMA

Justice alert
An Old Lady with strong Faith
Knows how to carry to great length
Didn’t have to spin to turn into Wonder Woman
Wonder Woman Grandma carried every day
A Mugger thought an Old Lady being an easy prey
He Forget to kneel and pray
The Mugger lurked and looked for an opportunity
It turned out to be a defeated reality
He attacked and Wonder Woman Grandma went into action just like that
She knocked him down
The Mugger went to the ground
He tried to attack a second time
Failed again and again
He didn’t know that Wonder Woman Grandma had Indian tribe blood origin
Full of courage, strength and keenness
The Mugger ran like a punk
Wonder Woman Grandma proved don’t under estimate an Old Lady
She packed more than just age
The punk was defeated full of rage
He got what he deserved because he didn’t behave
Forced to retreat
Got agony of defeat
The Wonder Woman Grandma is a true story
It’s my actual Grandma
A woman of wisdom
Living in God’s kingdom
High in the sky with my Grandpa
Wonder Woman Grandma
Strength in character
Standing for all Grandma’s all over the world
Hero
Victor story
Rewarded in Glory.

Shadow's silent dance

I watched as silence danced with shadows,
Playing the melody sung by my mind.
Its blanket covered the darkness—
broken only by a ray of light through a crack in the cave wall.

I groped through the dark toward the stone,
but the gale was too thick for my arms to swim.
I imagined a ghost whispering—
yet only silence listened.

Echoes, like thunder in a deep ocean,
ricocheted fear like a trap set to spring.
Ghosts rushed out from the corners they lurked—
only for me to hear silence whisper: “Come out of there.”
Its voice flowed like a river of serenity through a forest.

I begged silence to stop its torment,
but it had ears that could not hear.
I tried to run, but a boulder blocked my path.
Then I screamed.
It was then I knew—
the light coming through the crack was my father’s flashlight.

Premium Member For the Life of Me

I swore I'd turn and back away,
Resist the call, from the lurking flay.
For the life of me, I could not allay the stay!

Before me lay a morsel, a mere tit bit.
A taste I took, another, another, but could not scoff remit,
For the life of me, I could not help it!

I told myself to turn away, to quell the surge.
To resist the temptation with a denial's purge.
For the life of me, I could not resist the urge!

Danger lurked, the danger warning plain to see
Alas, the hurt to me was not meant to be.
For the life of me, I could not flee!

For the life of me, I couldn’t figure it out.
Why was my will so weak, and prone to doubt?
That my life was so worthless, such a sellout!

Sub Categories

Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace