Narrative Poems
#narrative
Narrative poetry is a style of poetry which tells a story. Narrative poems aim to draw the reader into the imagination of the author, to immerse them in the story being told. Narrative poems are usually written in metered verse, but do not have to follow any particular rhythmic pattern.
Viddax
Lord Viddax
Lord Viddax
Poem Published
27th Sep 2010 1:29pm
27th Sep 2010 1:29pm
The Owl and the Pussycat, and their vice money
The Owl and the Pussycat spurred on by ale
Started forging some bank note
They thought it was funny, copying money
Such as a noble five pound note.
The Owl aimed for the stars above
And sang in his sports car
O lovely Pussy, my artistic love
You star
You star
What a skillful Pussy you are!
The Owl and the Pussycat went to jail
For forging those bank note
They thought it was funny, copying money
The court secretary wrote.
The Owl aimed for the stars above
And weeped for his sports car
O lovely Pussy, my guilty love
My...
Started forging some bank note
They thought it was funny, copying money
Such as a noble five pound note.
The Owl aimed for the stars above
And sang in his sports car
O lovely Pussy, my artistic love
You star
You star
What a skillful Pussy you are!
The Owl and the Pussycat went to jail
For forging those bank note
They thought it was funny, copying money
The court secretary wrote.
The Owl aimed for the stars above
And weeped for his sports car
O lovely Pussy, my guilty love
My...
#money
#rhyming
#narrative
582 reads
2 Comments
Mitulsa
Poem Published
16th Feb 2011 6:07am
16th Feb 2011 6:07am
Two Stages, Same Story
A stage:
Virgin land,
Lush with rolling emerald hills,
Sapphire Lakes and ruby poppies
Untouched
War
With guns blazing
And angry divisive words
"Come here, Enemy Pig!"
The innocent run
But none can hide from War's
Raping
A nation
Turning deaf ear
To the cries of those who suffer most
''We don't want your rich man's war!
We want our children back!''
And Mother Land replies,
''Traitors! You are not my children!''
Abandoning
Another stage:
Virgin girl,
Lush with rollinghills...
Virgin land,
Lush with rolling emerald hills,
Sapphire Lakes and ruby poppies
Untouched
War
With guns blazing
And angry divisive words
"Come here, Enemy Pig!"
The innocent run
But none can hide from War's
Raping
A nation
Turning deaf ear
To the cries of those who suffer most
''We don't want your rich man's war!
We want our children back!''
And Mother Land replies,
''Traitors! You are not my children!''
Abandoning
Another stage:
Virgin girl,
Lush with rollinghills...
#dark
#abuse
#oppression
#war
#narrative
345 reads
0 Comments
Gg78
let it be
let it be
Poem Published
4th Apr 2011 1:45am
4th Apr 2011 1:45am
Larry meets Maria
So there was this young boy sitting on bench in a park. it was a nippy day out but not to cold. As He is sitting watching the ducks playing, he sees this young girl crying near the sandbox. He walks over to her and asks what's wrong. She says my mommy and daddy left me here without my dog. The boy puzzled now says well where did they go. I don't know she replies they said something about how they didn't need me anymore, the dog is better company then i am, shrugging her shoulders she says I must agree that was a cool dog you know. The boy stunned says we should go alert someone. Oh no no...
#children
#narrative
#scary
#prose
#mystery
287 reads
7 Comments
TheAngelWhoFell
Poem Published
19th Sep 2011 4:57am
19th Sep 2011 4:57am
Sky
Head throbbing with beats,
seconds and minutes,
pulsing with heat.
Falling through the Earth,
doors appear in seeming random bursts.
Smooth,shiney.
Silver, black, yellow,
the handles, the hole,
feeling mellow.
At the begenning it is as it seems,
the creation of my being.
I grasp the handle, walking through,
waves of sadness attack you.
Being no longer myself,
I observe with slight stealth.
I get this sinking feeling,
and fall through the floor.
A glass grid above,
and you leave.
The tears fall...
seconds and minutes,
pulsing with heat.
Falling through the Earth,
doors appear in seeming random bursts.
Smooth,shiney.
Silver, black, yellow,
the handles, the hole,
feeling mellow.
At the begenning it is as it seems,
the creation of my being.
I grasp the handle, walking through,
waves of sadness attack you.
Being no longer myself,
I observe with slight stealth.
I get this sinking feeling,
and fall through the floor.
A glass grid above,
and you leave.
The tears fall...
#sea
#sun
#sky
#clouds
#narrative
187 reads
1 Comment
Editor
Poem Published
13th Nov 2011 10:58pm
13th Nov 2011 10:58pm
Darkwish
#lust
#erotic
#gothic #narrative
#gothic #narrative
462 reads
11 Comments
SilverMoon
Miranda
Miranda
Poem Published
9th Dec 2011 00:23am
9th Dec 2011 00:23am
Fortune's Forest
She sails on cotton dreams
while watching bloody, chafed bodies flow downstream
She haunts the night,
she adores feigns of fright
she only complains about death's aftertast, tart
Devil renders her virgin heart
but it bled his eyes dry
He's in love
with the ghost of grandeur.
She's incognizant of her pretty plague
that which inprisons these demons in her tampered cage
keeping the redolent malignance at bay
She uses her love to say whatever she cares to say
That night of remembrance for the foresters
burns in their...
while watching bloody, chafed bodies flow downstream
She haunts the night,
she adores feigns of fright
she only complains about death's aftertast, tart
Devil renders her virgin heart
but it bled his eyes dry
He's in love
with the ghost of grandeur.
She's incognizant of her pretty plague
that which inprisons these demons in her tampered cage
keeping the redolent malignance at bay
She uses her love to say whatever she cares to say
That night of remembrance for the foresters
burns in their...
#dark
#narrative
102 reads
0 Comments
Maisiecrazy
Poem Published
9th May 2012 8:12pm
9th May 2012 8:12pm
A Sky Without Clouds
All the clouds fled from the sky
So the people tried to get them back
Luring them with flowers the color of hard candy
Tempting them with songs that sounded sweet like childrens laughter
But the clouds kept drifting until
There was nothing but empty sky
And clear skies leave too much room for reflection
The people could not see the beauty in broken things
The sun was too honest, uninterrupted by clouds or filtered by fog
It burned their skin and made them feel
Transparent and overexposed like a film negative
And its hard to fall in love in a...
So the people tried to get them back
Luring them with flowers the color of hard candy
Tempting them with songs that sounded sweet like childrens laughter
But the clouds kept drifting until
There was nothing but empty sky
And clear skies leave too much room for reflection
The people could not see the beauty in broken things
The sun was too honest, uninterrupted by clouds or filtered by fog
It burned their skin and made them feel
Transparent and overexposed like a film negative
And its hard to fall in love in a...
#earth
#sky
#clouds
#narrative
#humankind
172 reads
0 Comments
DearPoetry
Poem Published
3rd Jul 2012 3:27am
3rd Jul 2012 3:27am
Tigeress
She is the kind of girl who smothers herself in Astronomy,
New Age philosophies and coffee shop poetry.
All fire and dragon scaled-
She hides her tiger stripes behind bruises and ink stains,
living her life by way of verse-
throwing Hemingway around like insults.
Writing her letters to the moon,
she hides her heart underneath her own floorboards,
folding blank paper birds just to set them free at 3AM.
But, its the lipstick stained collars,
the rose thorned fingers,
and the dead stars in her chest cavity
that tell her- even a tigress can...
New Age philosophies and coffee shop poetry.
All fire and dragon scaled-
She hides her tiger stripes behind bruises and ink stains,
living her life by way of verse-
throwing Hemingway around like insults.
Writing her letters to the moon,
she hides her heart underneath her own floorboards,
folding blank paper birds just to set them free at 3AM.
But, its the lipstick stained collars,
the rose thorned fingers,
and the dead stars in her chest cavity
that tell her- even a tigress can...
#narrative
#sadness
83 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
29th Mar 2013 8:42pm
29th Mar 2013 8:42pm
Easter reading
Easter Reading
In Lima Peru- a hippo was pulling the tram car with
its best friend a water buffalo. They had ended up
here, far from Africa, after the great flood ebbed and
had been blessed with eternal life, only being mere
animals they didnīt know this. In Lima no one made
a big issue of this, but when the wider world knew
and some adventurers set about trying to kill the pair,
in vain, the Lima people took another look, especially
since the church thought they were the devilīs own
handiwork and god would never had allowed beasts...
In Lima Peru- a hippo was pulling the tram car with
its best friend a water buffalo. They had ended up
here, far from Africa, after the great flood ebbed and
had been blessed with eternal life, only being mere
animals they didnīt know this. In Lima no one made
a big issue of this, but when the wider world knew
and some adventurers set about trying to kill the pair,
in vain, the Lima people took another look, especially
since the church thought they were the devilīs own
handiwork and god would never had allowed beasts...
#animals
#religion
#narrative #humankind
#narrative #humankind
91 reads
pong
Poem Published
11th Apr 2013 4:47am
11th Apr 2013 4:47am
All Hemingways Must Suffer
#narrative
#ShortStory
133 reads
3 Comments
Lee
Poem Published
22nd Apr 2013 9:12pm
22nd Apr 2013 9:12pm
Desert Girl
Desert wind
Picks up her hair,
Desert sand
Erodes her cares.
Desert sky
So open and clear,
Desert Mountains
Stand against her fears.
Desert heat
Caresses her skin,
Desert tales
Persuades a grin.
Desert way
Leaves all revealed,
Desert symphony
Leaves wounds healed.
Desert place
With dusting swirls,
Desert contentment
For the desert girl.
Picks up her hair,
Desert sand
Erodes her cares.
Desert sky
So open and clear,
Desert Mountains
Stand against her fears.
Desert heat
Caresses her skin,
Desert tales
Persuades a grin.
Desert way
Leaves all revealed,
Desert symphony
Leaves wounds healed.
Desert place
With dusting swirls,
Desert contentment
For the desert girl.
#narrative
#uplifting
139 reads
6 Comments
Deborahlee3313
Poem Published
23rd Jun 2013 5:59am
23rd Jun 2013 5:59am
Into the moonlight
Into the moonlight
with her unicorn
named Glow
the angel of nighttime
she grins
Midnight is
her favorite hour
it is when
all the fun
begins
Into the moonlight
fluffy wings
all aglow
she travels
this earth
every day
To spread joy
and happiness
every place
she will go
this and "on a gust of wind" were inspired
by the "supermoon" tonight...so beautifully bright
with her unicorn
named Glow
the angel of nighttime
she grins
Midnight is
her favorite hour
it is when
all the fun
begins
Into the moonlight
fluffy wings
all aglow
she travels
this earth
every day
To spread joy
and happiness
every place
she will go
this and "on a gust of wind" were inspired
by the "supermoon" tonight...so beautifully bright
#moon
#night
#narrative #unicorns
#narrative #unicorns
104 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Narrative Poems