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Long Body Poems | Long Body Poetry

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

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Long Poems
Long poem by cassie hellberg | Details |

over and over agin

sometimes i talk to myself, 
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all. 
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister, 
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some unique
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it. 
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room, 
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy, 
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
is daddy raping her?
is she doing drugs?
not alot
is anyone beating her?
did anyone molest her? 
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse. 
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
hated herself
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses 
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat, 
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why? 
because daddy yelled 
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
smoking weed
doing nothing,
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
 her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
her mom,
her sister,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
 and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
and why? 
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...

Copyright © cassie hellberg

Long poem by Debbie Duncan | Details |


PART One,,,, as she saw it.

The mountains and the meadows were always so beautiful this time of year.
 It seemed as if a fresh new world always came to life. The high cliffs turned sharply downward.  As I sat listening to the ocean tides smashing against the walls of the mountain below. There was a mild breeze blowing from the south. The grass in the flower covered meadows moved with the breeze. The sun shined so brightly I thought it would melt me at times.

As I stood up from the log where I was sitting by the emerald forest, the breeze pressed my dress against me. It formed to the soft round curves of my breast, down through the curves of my waist pushing against my yielding hips. As I blinked from the sun, I saw him there in the distance. I had thought I was alone. But there he was,  starring straight at me. What would I do and where could I turn? I knew what kinds of thoughts men had, my mother told me all about them. I saw that he was beginning to move my way !

 I saw him there as he saw me. I was paralyzed, not knowing what direction to move. Though as I watched him from afar, he did not seem dangerous as my mother always warned. Still, I could hear her words like a tape recorder in the back of my mind.
 Should I dare take my eyes from his? I could see his eyes were dark, maybe brown, or even midnight blue.  What ever the color, I could tell they were smoldering with restrained passions. His hair was long to his shoulder blades. I knew that because it moved with the wind.  He had broad shoulders with long legs. I knew I must not let him reach me. If his arms entangled me , surely I would never get loose. And, I'm not sure I would want too. Even though I heard the words of my mother, running in my head.
 I could feel the tiny  beads of sweat trickling down between my breasts. I was not sure I should take my eyes from him as I leaned down to pick up the fan that had slipped from my hand to my bare feet.

PART ONE,,,, As he saw it .

  The winter snow had melted and yielded to the bright warming rays of the spring sun.  The bears had come out of hibernation with their  new born looking for food. The mountains and the meadows were born again, new, fresh and alive with life.  Everything was beautiful and as it should be. Birds singing, their mating songs blended with the crash of the surf against the steep cliffs of the mountain. Nature was at peace with itself, and I came here to share in this peace.  To be alone with the earth, or so I thought.  

I found a place to sit on the grass hidden among the flowers in the high meadows.  So I could enjoy the gentle breeze blowing while watching the forest animals. The warm sun caressed my body and warmed me. It was a prefect day, yet something was missing. A day like this needed to be shared with someone, someone special.  Stretching,  I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, just across the enchanted forest. Of a beautiful women. It couldn't be possible as no one knew of this place. I had come here for years and had never seen a another person before. Yet, there she was. Dressed in a dress the wind made love to, pressing it to her body. Clinging to the sensual curves of her breast, down to her firm waist and full inviting hips. I suddenly felt drawn to her and stood up. I knew she had seen me as she was starring back at me, as I stood staring back at her. She was a vision. And I was afraid she would vanish if I approached her. Yet, she seemed to be smiling, calling to me as I started walking towards her. I remember the stories my grandmother had told me of the enchantresses that lived in this forest, but I did not hesitate. I would give to her anything she wanted, anything she desired.

As I approached her I realized she was real. She seemed to be looking at me, daring me to come closer. All the stories of the enchantress my grandmother had told me flooded my mind with a warning. Yet, she was so beautiful, so inviting  and I couldn't take my eyes from her. I was slowly losing control with each and every step that brought me closer to her. I knew I was lost as I felt the heat of my desire to be with her, starting to take control. It was a struggle not to run to this beautiful creature , with the golden hair, and angelic face.  As I came closer I couldn't help but notice her sensual breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. She seemed to be smiling, challenging me with everything that made her a beautiful, desirable woman. A woman this sensual, this beautiful, this desirable was surely the enchantress, and I was hers. As a bee is drawn to the flower, I was being drawn to this women.

Suddenly she reached down to pick something up. It was just then I noticed she was barefoot.  As she bent over to retrieve what she had dropped, the sun reflected off her spun gold hair. and radiated a golden brightness that was almost blinding.  Her dress shifted  allowing me to see that her body enhanced her dress, rather then the dress enhancing her body. She would look beautiful in anything she wore.  The heat of my desire for her was beginning to consume me with it's fire. I felt the beginnings of ,,,,,,,,,,   


   Nov. 18 1992,,,, Short story I started to write, A friend ask if he could write from a males point of view.

Copyright © Debbie Duncan

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

Allah and Buddha were Talking

You know what I think sometimes?
said Allah to Buddha,
Of course you do
and yet you don't.

I think I gave this gift of language
because you have a uniquely humanatured gift
of comprehending
and transposing
and translating languages thru-out each and all Earth tribes,
but primally amongst your anthro-Allah loving selves.

Buddha thinks
we under-invest using this cooperatively intended gift
to speak clearly
and honestly
with candid integrity
about what "I need"
and what "I really do not need more of,
or any longer."

Perhaps at work
in your vocation
you get along fairly confluently,
most folks act professionally
and politically
and socially
and economically
and ecologically
and healthily correct.

Yet, notice
next time
perhaps even within yourself,
within your family,
with your spouse,
with your kids
especially with those teenagers,
how much time do we invest
prattling happily
and sometimes ranting unhappily along
about what we want or wish for,
don't want and would never care to see
or hear
now compare to your investment
conversing about what you most need
and what you most critically,
yet also chronically,
most specifically do not need
in your healthy intended and practised life,
and in your death-trending non-life
of false wealthy abundance.

We might turn to our professional colleague at work
say "I could use a cup of coffee."
but we would probably never say,
"I need more stimulants in my system
or this situation will put me to sleep."

We might say to our oppositionally obsessed daughter,
"If you throw that one-eyed Zoe doll down the stairs again
in the middle of this clunky throbbing night,
you can predict its immediate demise
in the trashcan of life!!!"
but seldom think to say
"I need for us to figure out a less alarming way
for you to wake me
when you need my attention,
and for you to let me sleep
when you merely want me."

Why are we more comfortable
telling our life partners,
"I don't feel like it tonight"
and less comfortable adding,
"but a back and foot and scalp massage would be heaven."

Seems like we would all be somewhat healthier
and wiser
if we were more articulate
about our bodies' "need" language
while less reductively focused on
our little ego's cognitive "want"
"don't want" messages.

And, for that matter,
Allah adds
it might be nicer
if your national and global political conversations
followed this same trend
of ecological body integrity
with Buddha-mind communication patterns.

Rather than
"If you keep killing those innocent victims,
I'm going to spank you
and starve you."
as if sociopathology had not had quite enough of both
rather than co-mentored love,
what about,
"I do not need you to lead us toward more death.
I do need you to do what we elected
and supported
and expected you to do,
to facilitate positive health and wealth trends
for me
and all Earth's Tribes,
for life,
and all Time's incarnating needs for health right now,
through future's timeless generations,
positively trending outcomes
rooted in needs and not needs,
not-so-much about what you want
and don't want
for your small-minded exclusive future."

Our global Buddha body,
Earth as Sanghakaya
multisystemic incarnational economic school of ecojustice,
evolves religious and cultural sanity
screaming for cooperative healing
while speaking PC
through appropriate channels
how nice we could all be
through competing for wealth
by following Allah's nature and nation-building rules
of healthy reason,
inclusive organic seasons without threat of treason.

Our bodies need to compete cooperatively
even more than our minds want
to cooperatively compete.

It                   We
IS                  ISn't
crazy              sane
to                   not to
kill                 communicate
against            with
those               you
"Allah              "Allah creation
has                  has not
created"           destroyed"
without             with
first                 terminally
sharing             killing
Allah                Allah creation's
beauty and joy  ugly and sorrow
hospitality         ballistics
generosity        competitive selfishness
integrity.          mendacity.

When economic interest in ego
exceeds equivalent value
for eco-logical interest
and comprehensive assurance coverage
in eco-healthy wealth optimization,
then ego mind
operates out of cognitively dominant "want"
rather than bodily-centered "eco-need"
rich environmental responses,
and healthy dialogue
of about and for optimizing life trends.

How could we incarnate
economic or psychic wealth and health
not eco-logically balanced,
positively trending toward "beloved"
or "climax"
wealthy-health nutritional optimization
meeting Continuous Quality Improvement
Permacultural Standards
of Positive Design
and universally-uniting Development?

And, even if we could,
Buddha body would hate it
and Western mind
would disrupt into further cognitive-reductive dissonance,
rather than this emerging eco-consciousness
of Allah's incarnating mind as body-wisdom.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck

Long poem by Terry O'Leary | Details |

The Stone

The Tale below was carved one night,
Upon the Stone, by candlelight
...most won’t believe, but some just might
.........most won’t believe, but some just might

.                         Preface

Well James made Beth his lovely bride
(And angels smiled, though teary eyed)
...their bodies bound, their spirits tied
.........their bodies bound, their spirits tied

Upon her hand, a shimmer shone,
As bright as blood, a ruby Stone 
...and brighter still, as love had grown
.........and brighter still, as love had grown

Soon James was sent to man a sail
So Beth removed her wedding veil
...her eyes were bright, her face was pale
.........her eyes were bright, her face was pale

“Well, I’ll be here when you return”
Said Beth to James, who kissed in turn
...a kiss that made her body burn
.........a kiss that made her body burn

.                         BETH’S TALE

1.              The Dream
One night, within a dream deformed,
The cawing of a Crow informed
“...a Ship was stripped where winter stormed
.........a Ship was stripped where winter stormed

Midst winds and waves the thunder boomed
The Ship of Death was surely doomed
...the sea engulfed, the sea entombed
.........the sea engulfed, the sea entombed

Your James... denied by Davy Jones!
His spirit gone, his flesh and bones
...are resting now amongst the Stones
.........are resting now amongst the Stones”

2.               The Quest

Awoken by the ebon Wight
And beckoned by the baneful bight
...I left before the morning light
.........I left before the morning light

Throughout the realm I rode a roan
Until, in time, I reached the Stone
...where shades and dreams in darkness groan 
.........where shades and dreams in darkness groan 

While skipping up and down the sky
A missing moonbeam mocked my eye
...enough to make a Swallow cry
.........enough to make a Swallow cry

For someone stole a star or two
And something else that fate withdrew – jewel of joy, my James Bijou jewel of joy, my James Bijou

The shadows of the evening swelled
Where demons of the dusk had dwelled
...and in the far, a vesper knelled
.........and in the far, a vesper knelled

The Stone, beneath the sky, stood cold –
Between the runes, a vapour strolled
...a cloak of fleecy fog consoled
.........a cloak of fleecy fog consoled

A Raven on a branch, enthroned,
Her wings waved once, a wail intoned
...beyond the bay, a banshee moaned
.........beyond the bay, a banshee moaned

I lay beside the Stone, his bride
I lay beside the Stone and cried
...but were it I, instead, that died
.........but were it I, instead, that died

The rainbow of the moon fell dim
A midnight Swan soon ceased to swim if to hide all hint of him if to hide all hint of him

Between the willows in the swale
There sang a Bird, a Nightingale
...which left me faint and feeling frail
.........which left me faint and feeling frail

3.              Contact

I felt him breathe within a breeze
Responding to my anguished pleas
...and leaves blew by abandoned trees
.........and leaves blew by abandoned trees

“I miss you too, my darling Beth”
Re-echoed from the Ship of Death
...the future buried in a breath
.........the future buried in a breath
The Stone lit up a ruby sheen
And clouds were kindled crystalline
...with consequences, unforeseen
.........with consequences, unforeseen

Above, the wretched Raven soared
To where the Ship of Death lay moored
...beneath, the icy ocean roared
.........beneath, the icy ocean roared

4.               Release

I’m joined with James beneath the Stone,
Though to the Ship my spirit’s flown,
...for nevermore to be alone
.........for nevermore to be alone

.                         Epilogue

That night the wayward winds were weird 
The Ship of Death had disappeared
...coyotes called and mortals feared
.........coyotes called and mortals feared

At dusk, the craven shadows crawled
At dawn, the winds of mourning called
...upon the Stone two names were scrawled
.........upon the Stone two names were scrawled

The Raven sits, with wings outspread,
Atop the Stone which shades the dead sometimes shimmers ruby red sometimes shimmers ruby red

.                         Epitaph

Between the sounds, where silence seeps,
Their love lives on and never sleeps
...and yet, the weeping willow weeps
.........and yet, the weeping willow weeps

inspired by ~fc~

Wight (obsolete): a supernatural being, creature
Bight: a bay or gulf
Swale: a moist depression in a tract of land

Copyright © Terry O'Leary

Long poem by Sarah Bryant | Details |

Everyone poops

I am playing with my dollies
And my princess pram all pink
I'm nearly 5
A big girl now
No more nappies
Or plastic pants
I think

I outgrew the potty
When I was only three
My mum says it's because I am brave
Now I go to the toilet all by myself
But today my bum didn't behave

My tummy was hurting
Making squidgy noises too
Blowing bubbles inside
I needed the loo
But it was too far away
I felt it coming
I knew I was going to poo

I couldn't stop it
It was runny and wet 
Dribbling down my legs
Err smelly poo
I stood on the floor
I shouted for mummy
But she’d already smelt it 
She knew

Mummy came in
Said “Oh deary me”
“Did we have an accident?” She asks 
I look down
“Only me” I reply
My legs were horribly brown

I started to cry
Mummy hugs me and says
“Everyone poops you know
Even the Queen
Let’s get you in the bath
Fresh new pyjamas
You’ll feel as good as new
Sparkling, fresh and poop free”

Fifteen years on
My first date a disaster
Oh yes, all thanks to my bum
I should have known better
A bad idea it transpired
A curry
The night before
With my mum

That morning I woke up
I knew I was in trouble
When I felt my feverish brow
My belly was bubbling
Making squidgy noises as before
I was really in turmoil now

This isn’t good news
I feel awful and sick
My intestines are angry and raw
Rebelling and furious
They are plotting their revenge
For the curry I'd had the night before

But I’m a big girl now
So my mum says
The rumblings I chose to ignore
Brave or stupid
Feeling nervous and scared
I walk nervously out of the door

I shuffle into the restaurant
A penguin walking on ice
My bum cheeks squeezed together
I smile, he looks really nice
Actually if I’m totally honest
It was a bit more like a wince 
But I was too scared to move
Too scared to breathe
It was all I could manage
I was convinced 

I resist the urge to pass wind
My bum and I are at war
Anxious to avoid a lethal escape
I feel the bubbling’s I remembered from before
I excuse myself from the table
Plead silently for my bum to behave
Walking penguin style
Across a crowded restaurant
I can do this
I am brave

I find my sanctuary
In the form of a loo
Sitting down I feel surges of pain 
Squelching noises galore
Sweating buckets I'm sure
My modesty I hope to retain  

With my elbows on my knees
I push just a little 
My bum explodes
I am shocked 
Poop expels from my body
A 100 miles an hour at least 
Making a terrible sound as it plopped

The smell is intense 
I want to cry
Poop has ricocheted off the bowl 
Splattered all over my bum
I've formed a seal around the seat 
This is a nightmare
I have no control

As I stand up the seat sticks to my bum
I unpeeled myself off
It crashes down to the bowl
I clean up
Feel a bit better
But into bed I want to roll

I flush the smell away
And I hope the disgrace
I look in the mirror and gasp
I look like a zombie
A lovely first date
Was that really too much to ask?

Leaving the ladies
I return to my date
He is still there 
What do I tell him?
My secret was mine to keep
Is honesty the best policy here?
What lie can I use?
But I take a deep breath and I speak

“I'm fine, thanks for waiting
I had a dodgy curry last night”
He laughs and I felt silly 
Who talks about poop on a first date?
He smiles 
He says “Hey don’t be embarrassed
Everyone poops, I relate!”

Shall we go somewhere else instead? He asks
 “Like a public toilet?" I joke
He laughs as he takes my hand
He is cute
I really like him
He is gorgeous 
He seems to understand

He walked me home 
Hmm no
It was actually more of a crawl
But a kiss on the doorstep
And another date next week
Maybe this wasn't a disaster after all

Seventy years on
I am living in a home
I married my first date
We had a family of our own
Wed sixty glorious years
He passed away last year
Now I'm back in nappies again
Oh what a cheer

Yesterday was my birthday
I am ninety years old and a day
I had a naughty curry last night
And I think I'm in trouble today
My tired old organs
Don’t work like they did before
My skin is all crinkled
My intestines are like straws

The nurse comes in to change me
Nappy filled with poop galore
She smiles
Says “Don’t worry my love
Everyone poops"
She's seen it all I'm sure

I smile as I remember
Those very same words spoken
To me when I was four
By my dear old mum
In the bathroom
In our house
So many years before

Copyright © Sarah Bryant

Long poem by Terry O'Leary | Details |

Another Cruel Link in their Chain

         Another Cruel Link in their Chain 

	1.   Beginnings 

Her babe was her joy, such a beautiful boy ,
	and he suckled her breast till the end...
The Massa sought cash, bestowed mammy a lash,
	sold her babe to a gentrified friend
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

With mammy not there, Sammy dared not to dare
	but to bide near the edge of the night
But nevertheless one must always outguess
	or absorb burning stings of the bite
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

Though learning the rules in the shadows of fools
	as he grew to a leery lean lad
He often defied but he never once cried
	although whipped at the post whene’er bad
It flits like a flash,  a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

	2.   Youth

The cotton gin broke and nobody spoke,
	so the Massa said “BENNY’S TO BLAME”
But Sammy said ‘No...  Massa, jus caint be so,
	no ’tain’t Benny, ’tain’t Benny’s sore name’
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

	- replied Sam ‘no I’s tellin da truth’
But daring to speak earned him scars for his cheek
	and so blemished the bloom of his youth
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

	and he called upon Benny to pay
	just as Sam feared the Massa would say
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

Dark faces soon blanched; Benny bended a branch
	near the base of a broken oak tree 
His body hung bare as it swung in the air
	and the buzzards and crows shrieked with glee
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

	3.   Flight

Sam’s feet were unclad, as befitting a lad
	as alone as a stone in his path
So oft on the run neath the sly sliding sun
	being followed and feeling god’s wrath
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

Surrounded and caught brought his efforts to naught,
	child in chains at the end of his trek
Winds wept as he went, with his spirit unbent,
	a cold collar of steel ’round his neck
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

	4.   Life

Sam grew to a man, branded ‘boy’ by the klan,
	as they spat on the trail that he tread
If he raises his gaze or he wanders or strays
	the pack promise to sever his head
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

Once Sam found a wife who they ripped from his life,
	yes along with the babe at her breast
(Was it simply their greed or by heaven decreed? ...)
	well, with hindsight you might guess the rest
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

	5.   Endings

From phantoms of fright neath the frail foggy night
	Sammy soared as he fled to escape
He no longer crawled (heeding freedom that called)
	through the darkness, a black hole agape
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

Unleashed! Frenzied dogs hounding Sam through the bogs,
	(baying beasts neath the bloody red moon)
White fangs intermeshed as they mangled his flesh,
	freedom flayed through the pale afternoon
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

Sam’s body was torn leaving little to mourn
	but there’s really no need to despair
And there’s no need to cry for his spirit can’t die,
	being borne by bound men everywhere
It flits like a flash, a lithe leathery lash,
	yet another cruel link in their chain

EPITAPH SAM Revolted and clashed ’gainst the cruel leather lash and broke free from the choke of the chain
EPILOGUE Those parts of the past that we gaze at aghast reveal harrowing questions quite plain - Why people so free, just like you, just like me, were so happy inflicting such pain? Why we bask in the throes of humanity’s woes while we wait while the tyrannies reign? And I’m wondering too (’cause I don’t have a clue) ... might we each be a link in their chain?

Copyright © Terry O'Leary

Long poem by Robert Ronnow | Details |

The Ordinary Care of Providence

Madison's defense of the establishment clause to the Virginia legislature:
"Religion both existed and flourished, not only without the support of human laws, but in spite of every opposition from them, and not only during the period of miraculous aid but long after it had been left to its own evidence and the ordinary care of Providence."

                                          May I say
electromagnetic waves. Radiant energy.
Light travels in waves
                                  Waves of what?
Electromagnetic waves consist of electric and magnetic fields
oscillating at right angles to each other
and to the direction of motion of the wave.
                                                                 All waves can be described
in terms of amplitude, wavelength, frequency and speed.

Waves of what?
                         Think of a hand waving. The wave itself
is virtual, ideal. The hand and eyes are waves. The wave's
a quantum guess.
                           Religion and electromagnetic waves - visible, audible,
causing real reactions in earth-time (real as it gets). Madison's
             care of Providence
                                          impossible to handle.

Needed is a medium: antenna, cathode ray, page,
        hairy, sweaty
with the capacity to say Providence electromagnetic visible light
element god.
                    Alone in your life and body. Say
the heavy word
weighty word
            charged word (ion god)
the particle physicist and political philosopher have it over the poet
who is sharing ignorance
                                      pretty much all he doesn't know.

Or who stays within a dimension she knows she knows, extrapolating
her hand in a child's hand or husband's hold or nest in a tree hole
limited government
                             separation of powers
                                                             daily low intensity warfare
light, radio and gamma waves
                                             Waves of what?
"Matter can be treated by both wave and particle theories (the duality of matter) since its convertible counterpart - light - has long been treated successfully by both theories."
convertible counterpart
                                    light matter light

Solutions to the equations are called wave functions, or orbitals.
"Religion or the duty which we owe our Creator and the manner of discharging it can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by force or violence. It is proper to take alarm at the first experiment on our liberties. We hold this prudent jealousy to be the first duty of Citizens, and one of the noblest characteristics of the late Revolution. The free men of America did not wait till usurped power had strengthened itself by exercise and entangled the question in precedents. They saw all the consequences in the principle and they avoided the consequences by denying the principle. We revere this lesson too much to soon forget it."

Last night's movie She's No Angel on the Christian channel
begged many essential questions (and had bad music)
the loving liberal successful couple should
keep a shotgun in the home (later used per Shakespeare)
the community's (authority's) reaction to the violence
and precipitating dissembling might have been (per The Crucible)
the golden spiritual couple would subsequently dissemble lobby or defend
themselves and the loved one legally and lengthily (per Dostoyevsky)
unclean tragic outcomes end in Death's cleanliness
ravens eat the fur and guts of bad guesses off the roads (per A Designer
      of Systems)

but not I think missing
the deeper lesson

that she is neither her past
nor her wings

but a pure goodness
                               bone stillness
                                                    potential energy

a light wave
and a particle.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow

Long poem by Amber Stratton | Details |

Blinded By Darkness

I was blinded by darkness
Not knowing where I planted each footfall
I had a body I had a heart
I had a mind and most of all a soul
I thought I was alive with happiness and joy
Alive with peace in my soul
But I was wrong dead wrong
I was all but dead to the world
It was Death that captured and trapped me
In a grave not letting go of me
In the end not knowing it was little ol’ me
Trying to breathe trying to fight my way out
Thinking I was almost there to the top but not even moving
I thought I was justified by my negativity and actions
Not knowing it was trapping me further down
Displaying the ignorance of my ways without caring for the ones I loved
The pain of it that was caused went noticed 
Everyone telling me but not realizing it until now
Letting the deceit and evil willingly roll off my tongue
Thinking I was always right on everything
Thinking that all I need was the trust of man
No matter how long I sat by the fire I was cold
Even when the sunlight was resting upon my skin
I was still ice cold as Death’s very own 
I did not think that life would be this dead within
The darkness of the ice cold abyss of the grave yard
Picking and choosing what to do seems right but it wasn’t
Trying again and again until finally picking up the one thing 
That I thought would not help me in the long run
Thinking that I had all the love in the world 
Knowing that nothing can bring me down was one
Of the biggest lies I made myself believe for so long
Thinking I had fait and love in my life but I was wrong
And in the end all there  is was nothing but darkness 
Deceit and evil rolling off the tongues of you so called 
People walking blindly through the shadows
Of the ever present grasp of Deaths darkest abyss
Of all the wickedness that has been committed in my life 
Why now has the Mighty Father and Mother given me a second chance 
Why have they forgiven me of my sins without a second thought
Have I really forgiven myself so the Father the Mother and the Divine
To enter my body my mind my heart and my soul
Has the Lord and the Lady really seen that I have been trying to 
Change and to become an adult woman mentally so my 
Husband can rely on me in the time of need like now
I thought I was ready to begin a life with kids 
Until I realized that I am still one myself
How will the Lord and Lady tell me when I am ready to have
The family I want with my husband who is my soulmate 
All I can do is wait ever so patiently for the moment
The Lord and Lady will tell me when I am ready 
Inside that dark grave a white light came to me
With a hand to pull me out of my hole I dug and saved me
From my own condemned version of hell after praying 
They deliver me from my sins and the trespasses I’ve done
What are people going to do when they see me 
Completely changed after the long visit to LCJ
God and Goddess thank you for saving my when I thought 
There was no way for me to be saved and unworthy of it
Again thank you for everything I currently have
In my life my wonderful loving husband that only
Sees the potential in me all the time and the love he 
Gives so unconditionally to me even when I 
Do wrong in his eyes or the law’s eyes please 
Show him the same lovingkindness and forgiveness you 
Have so heavily laid on me to realize and forgive 
Myself and those around me like I should
Have so long ago when you tried to show me the light
I have forgiven myself of the anger and hate I had
For my adopted family and now it is in the past I cannot 
Change that but however I can change how the future 
Goes by what I say and plan to do now today
I can look back not so long ago the darkness that 
Covered my eyes then and hope the light keeps the veil away
I can see all the negative emotions that were running 
And controlling me I had no idea what to do 
Now I am grateful for the things I have for 
The things I have come to realize on top of everything
I am the most thankful to you in my life 
When I thought I did not deserve the love 
And the care you have shown me 
Love is for an eternity, not just a second, minute, hour or even a day. 

Copyright © Amber Stratton

Long poem by Claudia Conaway | Details |

I Could Never Be the Rain

My life started with rain,
the steady stream of drops,
hitting the trees gently
and ending its descent to our world
on the wet pavement.
I am on the sidewalk, 
sheltered by a makeshift roof and 
a border of trees.
The cars beyond me toss the tears of the sky
off themselves, the wheels swerve and then steady.

Then a bell chimes,
crisp and song-like,
first slow and steady rhythms,
then a playful tune to celebrate the rain’s arrival.
The rain, the bells-
one does not cancel the other out, but rather coincide with the other.
A perfect harmony that the human heart will never experience but only watch.

Sweet, sweet cinnamon in a soy satin river,
frothy and smooth- it warms my lips before finding solace
in my esophagus.
The rain is cold, the coffee is hot, my breath belongs to the rain.

Am I an alien, unwelcome to the rain’s domain? 
The rain is a cool drink to the plants, to the trees
but it is a nuisance to us,
it is a plaything for us-
we hide from it and splash in it, pretend it falls just for us,
and ignore the cries of it's true child - nature.
We laugh at nature with booming, passionate voices
and we trample its peace.
rain is nature’s drink of life.
we cannot stop the rain, but the rain will always stop us.

I sit here and write these words and hear those bells and taste the cinnamon dew
and I am human.
My insatiable human lips will never feel the peace of grass drinking its morning brew,
but I do find myself here, feeling all the shades of blue the sky has ever been,
and I am falling in love with the rain.
We humans always do that. Love is our prize choice of dagger.
So we are in love with the rain and we ask:
When will the rain love me back?
When will it fall just for me?
So the rain falls 
and the grass grows
and our bellies grow crude
but we still ask for more more more
and the rain asks for nothing.
It sends its blossoms and petals down to us,
it pumps the blood into our veins,
onto our vines,
and then, it is silent.
It asks for nothing, but I wonder
does It want me to look
or to look away?
Does the rain want me to notice it and to love it in the unrequited way I always do
or does the rain want me to let it be?
Does it think me a monster, an alien
like I think of my skin to me?

I believe that the rain wants not,
asks not,
begs not,

and in that, I could never be the rain.

now I am inside, hidden from the rain
like a child in the womb, momentarily blind
and deaf to the pain that makes the world real.
That trickle of raindrops is now a 
heavy, consistent, foreboding heat of voices-
human voices that sound like mine and that don’t sound like mine,
all invading the stream of consciousness that the rain gave birth to.
In here, I cannot breathe, I cannot think-
I am being coerced into the suffocating fire of voices, all playing with emotions but devoid of them.
The rain is the eye 
and the shelter is the mouth,
always talking but never seeing.
The hell of human condition does not end like the rain,
we ask for more and more and more, 
more than God himself thinks is best for us.

This is the human condition- a fire that desperately wants to touch the rain-
we are put out by our own choice.

But oh! The pleasure of that human voice!
The longing moans of our anguish,
the desperation in our cries of please please love me!
Every single word and every single wall we build
to keep the rain out
is saying please please break in,
love me like I love the rain,
love me like I’m scared to,
because I am terrified of love and 
I am void of you.
I have always been alone,
and I let the rain wash you away,
and now I am a rock-
like the songwriters say.
But the rock never speaks to the rain
it never says please please love me

and in that, I can never be the rock

because I love the rain and I love the touch of human distraction,
like veins bursting out from the skin
I am human and always will be,  
I wish the rain was desperate like me
and I wish the rock would beg for me.

Copyright © Claudia Conaway

Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

Yoga in Poem A Novel Approach Step 6A

Yoga in Poem A Novel Approach Step 6A Anulom Vilom Pranayam What is Anulom Vilom Pranayam? Anulom Vilom Pranayam is the process of purification of our blood and nervous system with the help of a particular type of breathing exercise. It is the most helpful method to calm the mind, thus removing stress and protecting the body from damages, which occurs due to unstable mind and too much of stress. Important before Practicing Anulom Vilom It is important to note that this Pranayam should be performed empty stomach preferably in the morning hours, when your stomach is empty and bowls are clear. The ideal gap between the food intake and doing Anulom Vilom is 4-5 hours but it can be practiced in evening hours by those who do not have time in the morning hours with the above condition of last meal gap of 4-5 hours. The Benefits of Anulom Vilom Yoga remains the best way to achieve and maintain a healthy body and mind. In practicing Anulom Vilom, the hidden vital energy of the human body slowly but powerfully began to remove the stress which is one of the main causes of many ailments of the human body. Its regular practice with proper food cares would be very helpful in controlling the Sugar Level and cholesterol, thus controlling the stress which gives births to many other serious problems ailments. In Praise of Anulom Vilom The moment you start Your journey towards Anulom Vilom Your lungs began to feel The much awaited feel of that comfort Which is possible only In the sweet company of that oxygen Which gives us the boon of energy. The new generation of this oxygen Which get produced By practicing Anulom Vilom And which was missing Till now, in your lungs and body Would stimulates the mind and heart To feel the inner joy of oxygen And the beauty of Yoga Which helps in producing This rejuvenating vital energy. The sleeping powers of your own body Would began to come alive In the awakened stage slowly Filling every part and organs Of your God gifted body With the fresh flow of oxidized blood Which removes in a phased manner and time All the toxic elements and ailments slowly From your tired and exhausted body And began to fill your body With the swings of vital energy. Ravindra K Kapoor Kanpur India 29th June 2015 (Protected under the copy rights provisions of Poetry Soup) How to do Anulom Vilom Sit in Padmasana or Sukhasana pose by crossing your legs on comfortable mattress or on grass lawn preferable or in an open place where you can feel the fresh air around you. If you feel any problem in folding your legs even in Sukhasana pose just sit in any comfortable position with as much folding legs as possible. Persons with arthritis can even sit on a wooden chair to perform Anulom Vilom. Steps to do Anulom Vilom Place the palm facing the ceiling or sky of your one hand on your knee and raise the other hand to use your thumb and index finger one by one on your nostrils. Place and press slightly the thumb of your other hand (in use) on the right nostril to start inhaling from the left nostril, while keeping the index finger extended near the left nostril. Take a full deep breath while keeping the right nostril press by thumb and inhaling from left and after filling your lungs with the air stop the left nostril by the index finger of your other hand in use and release or exhale the breathed air from the right nostril by pressing the left nostril pressed by the index finger. Repeat this Pranayam without exerting too much. The inhaling from one nostril and exhaling from the other should be repeated as your capacity and body resistance from 1-2 minutes to 12-15 minutes. Imp. Note: If you find any difficulty in practicing Anulom Vilom Stop it and then start it under the guidance of some Yoga expert or join Yoga classes in your area of the world. Ravindra K Kapoor

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor

Long Poems