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.
Morganpoet
Poem Published
Yesterday 3:43pm
Yesterday 3:43pm
HOME OF THE SWARM
The darkened hollow
silently beckoned,
a wooded shelter
from the storm,
the ground was hard,
there was a buzzing,
at last he'd found the
Home of the Swarm.
It was by chance
he’d changed direction,
that night the stars
glistened so bright,
when he heard a
soft murmur tell,
at each fork to
go to the right.
It was in the morning
as the sun was waking,
he saw the branches
rising up so high,
above all the other
trees in the forest,
to touch the clouds
as they floated by. ...
silently beckoned,
a wooded shelter
from the storm,
the ground was hard,
there was a buzzing,
at last he'd found the
Home of the Swarm.
It was by chance
he’d changed direction,
that night the stars
glistened so bright,
when he heard a
soft murmur tell,
at each fork to
go to the right.
It was in the morning
as the sun was waking,
he saw the branches
rising up so high,
above all the other
trees in the forest,
to touch the clouds
as they floated by. ...
#trees
#narrative
#bees
8 reads
0 Comments
Morganpoet
Poem Published
23rd Mar 2020 1:06pm
23rd Mar 2020 1:06pm
WAYWARD RECKLESSNESS
Music playing, shadows casting through
an open doorway echoing news.
Time to go behind,
see what there is to find
on the other side of the screen,
capture the edge of the dream
in surrealist mode,
eyes closed pen on page,
using the paper as a stage
to explore, to discover more,
putting logical, rational
thought aside.
A castle, a flowing stream,
distant green flowing
in all directions,
isolation, under guard
forever waiting for
occasional interactions,
finding solace with a
feather quill,...
an open doorway echoing news.
Time to go behind,
see what there is to find
on the other side of the screen,
capture the edge of the dream
in surrealist mode,
eyes closed pen on page,
using the paper as a stage
to explore, to discover more,
putting logical, rational
thought aside.
A castle, a flowing stream,
distant green flowing
in all directions,
isolation, under guard
forever waiting for
occasional interactions,
finding solace with a
feather quill,...
#narrative
17 reads
0 Comments
Morganpoet
Poem Published
21st Mar 2020 9:42am
21st Mar 2020 9:42am
INNER VOICE
One day an echidna
met the marsupial mole,
on a rare occasion
at the top of the hole,
the mole was looking
for someone to tell,
his eyesight so poor
in his attempts to smell
a creature about,
he found himself licked
prodded with a snout.
“Hello” he said,
“Is someone there?
I have something of
importance to share."
"What can you tell me
which I don’t already know,
from your underground life
what have you to show?"
"Well, first there were the pages,
where can I begin,
you...
met the marsupial mole,
on a rare occasion
at the top of the hole,
the mole was looking
for someone to tell,
his eyesight so poor
in his attempts to smell
a creature about,
he found himself licked
prodded with a snout.
“Hello” he said,
“Is someone there?
I have something of
importance to share."
"What can you tell me
which I don’t already know,
from your underground life
what have you to show?"
"Well, first there were the pages,
where can I begin,
you...
#narrative
29 reads
0 Comments
Morganpoet
Poem Published
20th Mar 2020 10:53am
20th Mar 2020 10:53am
TELLING THE STORY
Inside every story
there’s another story.
We create stories
to tell ourselves
“it all makes sense”,
a collection of events
came together and now
this is the tale they tell,
recreating a narrative
to convince the self
all is well,
this is what happened,
this is what I recall.
Details are changed
as an acceptable
progression is arranged
to fit in with
everything else.
So finding the
place for a
story to begin
when what
went before
reveals what
lies within ...
there’s another story.
We create stories
to tell ourselves
“it all makes sense”,
a collection of events
came together and now
this is the tale they tell,
recreating a narrative
to convince the self
all is well,
this is what happened,
this is what I recall.
Details are changed
as an acceptable
progression is arranged
to fit in with
everything else.
So finding the
place for a
story to begin
when what
went before
reveals what
lies within ...
#narrative
34 reads
4 Comments
Morganpoet
Poem Published
18th Mar 2020 3:45pm
18th Mar 2020 3:45pm
LOST
He didn't know where
she went that day,
when he followed
her all the way
across the bridge,
and down the lane
she turned the corner
and he couldn't contain
the disappointment
which welled inside
when he wondered
"Did she hide?"
Did she know that he
watched her ever move?
Did she think that he
had something to prove
when he stood on the
corner day after day
waiting for her
to look his way?
How would he feel
if he knew she
was just going where
she needed to be, ...
she went that day,
when he followed
her all the way
across the bridge,
and down the lane
she turned the corner
and he couldn't contain
the disappointment
which welled inside
when he wondered
"Did she hide?"
Did she know that he
watched her ever move?
Did she think that he
had something to prove
when he stood on the
corner day after day
waiting for her
to look his way?
How would he feel
if he knew she
was just going where
she needed to be, ...
#narrative
35 reads
2 Comments
DestroyerOfUranus
Des.
Des.
Poem Published
16th Mar 2020 3:36pm
16th Mar 2020 3:36pm
A Humans Tale
As the mind runs into the field,
Admiration Expresses what's real.
Thus leaving self astray.
Thus scaring hope away.
In between the Rose and the Champions.
Speculating what eyes can't truly see.
The Rose,
precious to the assembly.
While the Champions wait and see.
The Champions erupt from esteem.
The Rose forever in a dream.
Emitting wholesome truth.
Emitting wholesomely YOU.
Then the vagrant comes to see.
Eyes tired from heartache,
Self inflicted, little rose.
The Vagrant came to...
Admiration Expresses what's real.
Thus leaving self astray.
Thus scaring hope away.
In between the Rose and the Champions.
Speculating what eyes can't truly see.
The Rose,
precious to the assembly.
While the Champions wait and see.
The Champions erupt from esteem.
The Rose forever in a dream.
Emitting wholesome truth.
Emitting wholesomely YOU.
Then the vagrant comes to see.
Eyes tired from heartache,
Self inflicted, little rose.
The Vagrant came to...
#sadness
#anger
#love
#narrative
#ShortStory
49 reads
0 Comments
marina2020
Rain Woman
Rain Woman
Poem Published
21st Feb 2020 3:18am
21st Feb 2020 3:18am
Untitled 2/20/20
I fall to my knees
Feeling the chill of the dirt beneath me
I stare at my hands as they instinctively clench the ground
My entire body going tense
The tears begin the fall down my cheeks as the tension releases
I breathe in the cold night air
Looking around, I notice how dead the forest is
Even the trees themselves look dead in the moonlight
I don’t know why I’m here
It’s been so long and yet the small tombstone remains at the base of this oak
I never planned on returning
But something inside me broke the minute I drove back into town ...
Feeling the chill of the dirt beneath me
I stare at my hands as they instinctively clench the ground
My entire body going tense
The tears begin the fall down my cheeks as the tension releases
I breathe in the cold night air
Looking around, I notice how dead the forest is
Even the trees themselves look dead in the moonlight
I don’t know why I’m here
It’s been so long and yet the small tombstone remains at the base of this oak
I never planned on returning
But something inside me broke the minute I drove back into town ...
#sadness
#dreams
#narrative
82 reads
10 Comments
tasia_arlene
Tasia Arlene
Tasia Arlene
Poem Published
13th Feb 2020 7:18pm
13th Feb 2020 7:18pm
Toxic
I like your shoes.
But not the way you sing the blues.
I like your eyes.
But not the way your lonely heart shy's.
I like your curly hair.
But can't remember the last time we could breathe the same air.
I like your clothes.
But not how many doubts have arose.
I miss your sound.
But in the darkness you still can't be found.
I miss your heart.
But you didn't have to rip me apart.
I miss your touch.
But I couldn't stay your crutch.
I miss your song.
But you didn't have to make me the one in the wrong.
I want your...
But not the way you sing the blues.
I like your eyes.
But not the way your lonely heart shy's.
I like your curly hair.
But can't remember the last time we could breathe the same air.
I like your clothes.
But not how many doubts have arose.
I miss your sound.
But in the darkness you still can't be found.
I miss your heart.
But you didn't have to rip me apart.
I miss your touch.
But I couldn't stay your crutch.
I miss your song.
But you didn't have to make me the one in the wrong.
I want your...
#sadness
#love
#heartbroken
#narrative
#memories
40 reads
2 Comments
Simon_III_Msibi
Mandla Msibi
Mandla Msibi
Poem Published
6th Feb 2020 4:59pm
6th Feb 2020 4:59pm
Her Narrative
She wanted a new narrative
A new tale about what
It meant for her to just be
She just knew that
Her story would be a different one
Her story would be one of achievement
Her story would be one of triumphs
Her story would be one of autonomy
Most of all she just wanted
To be in a world
Where she could choose
For herself who she wants to be
The world had already
Defined her role
It had already signed
A social contract
It had already removed
Her from the public sector
Only keeping her Private ...
A new tale about what
It meant for her to just be
She just knew that
Her story would be a different one
Her story would be one of achievement
Her story would be one of triumphs
Her story would be one of autonomy
Most of all she just wanted
To be in a world
Where she could choose
For herself who she wants to be
The world had already
Defined her role
It had already signed
A social contract
It had already removed
Her from the public sector
Only keeping her Private ...
#women
#politics
#narrative
#historical
#philosophical
62 reads
2 Comments
LIFE4ME
Poem Published
3rd Feb 2020 9:57pm
3rd Feb 2020 9:57pm
Notes of Affection
Aware of the Almighty,
my senses lose their senses.
As I fixate upon him,
all whereabouts make themselves unknown.
Impressed upon me,
is His deep affection for my soul.
His caressing touch enchants my heart.
Slowly, my senses come about
--suspended between the atmospheres
of the afterlife, and the hour that exists.
With each beat,
His deep affection rushes through the vessels of my heart.
Slowly, my arm sways to and fro,
as the guitar plays silent notes.
My lips lay not still,
while my voice...
my senses lose their senses.
As I fixate upon him,
all whereabouts make themselves unknown.
Impressed upon me,
is His deep affection for my soul.
His caressing touch enchants my heart.
Slowly, my senses come about
--suspended between the atmospheres
of the afterlife, and the hour that exists.
With each beat,
His deep affection rushes through the vessels of my heart.
Slowly, my arm sways to and fro,
as the guitar plays silent notes.
My lips lay not still,
while my voice...
#happiness
#love
#spiritual
#narrative
#ShortStory
51 reads
2 Comments
Ignoramus
Poem Published
1st Feb 2020 4:30pm
1st Feb 2020 4:30pm
Marzo I
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH OF MARZO
All the details of his life I easily recall since, everything related to him, absorbed my supreme attention.
It was a night full of angers. Of cosmic neurosis. Black. Like if in the breast of his soul a strident landscape would develop. Sad. All tears. Every now and then a miraculous root of light altered the darkness of that tormented or schizophrenic sky. Always that one of those frenetic scratches of light revealed itself in that rare cristal, it livened in the background of the night the figure of like a sad or...
All the details of his life I easily recall since, everything related to him, absorbed my supreme attention.
It was a night full of angers. Of cosmic neurosis. Black. Like if in the breast of his soul a strident landscape would develop. Sad. All tears. Every now and then a miraculous root of light altered the darkness of that tormented or schizophrenic sky. Always that one of those frenetic scratches of light revealed itself in that rare cristal, it livened in the background of the night the figure of like a sad or...
#narrative
#art
64 reads
0 Comments
LIFE4ME
Poem Published
22nd Jan 2020 10:48pm
22nd Jan 2020 10:48pm
Silent Night
Although, the lids of my eyes weigh heavily upon me, my eyes remain unclosed,
as sleep escapes me.
After many restless nights of laying in silent darkness, I hear a malicious voice, within the space of my ears, softly whispering, "kill, kill, kill."
I scan the darkness surrounding me.
All is pitch black.
Shuddering frantically, I cry, "whose there?
Show yourself."
The voice of silent darkness has no reply.
Suddenly, A thin web of light reflects off the glass; finding itself staring deep into the eyes of a remorseful figure.
as sleep escapes me.
After many restless nights of laying in silent darkness, I hear a malicious voice, within the space of my ears, softly whispering, "kill, kill, kill."
I scan the darkness surrounding me.
All is pitch black.
Shuddering frantically, I cry, "whose there?
Show yourself."
The voice of silent darkness has no reply.
Suddenly, A thin web of light reflects off the glass; finding itself staring deep into the eyes of a remorseful figure.
#dark
#spiritual
#narrative #ShortStory
#narrative #ShortStory
70 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Narrative Poems
