Long Abled Poems
Long Abled Poems. Below are the most popular long Abled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Abled poems by poem length and keyword.
Early/mid afternoon May 22nd, 2020...
Raindrops percolate Perkiomen Valley watershed
pleasant reprieve versus quite warm temperatures
yesterday found yours truly averse attempting re:
ding outside, the secluded alcove visible looking
thru single bedroom window here, once upon time
former Schwenksville Elementary School, now re:
purposed Highland Manor apartment alphanumeric
unit B44, 2day precipitation lightly palpitating terra
firma quenching thirsty flora and fauna donning viz
age fifty plus shades of lush green meteorological
regular phenomena offsets prospect where drought
would deprive biota requisite liquid nourishment
speculation June, July, and August promise triple
digits essentially forcing creature comfort ala air
conditioning as climate control to weather extreme
hot temperatures linkedin with global warming, a
grim prospect lately tempered courtesy coronavirus
COVID-19 inexplicably temporarily giving respite
the Earth atmosphere purportedly less toxic since
countless manifold modes of industrial production
lockdown subjected since employees in quarantine
to thwart contagion infecting adjacent areas, thus
impacting transportation hub, no substantial traffic
most rerouted thru information superhighway data
bits and bytes sent to and fro, hither and yon, until
"green light" signalled for businesses to reorient
themselves to alternate paradigm, hoop fully more
eco friendly less dependent upon fossil fuels, where
greenhouse gases deplete ozone layer compromising
delicate balance offset severely trending toward by
Yoda - star wars pitched battles witnessing galactic
empires armed 2 teeth with supersonic weapons mass
destruction spelling demise of human civilization
think brinkmanship whereby within eyeblink en-
tire realm encompassing eastern, western, northern
southern, brethren and cistern multifarious legacies
snuffed out without a trace extinguishing gamut of
living things great and small, perchance world wide
web overtaken with radiation resistant critters, an
unrecognizable changing of the guard when no pry
mates abled (Cain not) wrest control against giant
size carnivorous entities deliciously feast carrion
until nothing but lovely bleached (bomb shelled)
bones scattered across the pock marked terrestrial
landscape - mush room 4 opportunistic organisms.
When wandering through a clinical studies program,
I began a practice of writing verbatims,
capturing the essence of conversations
messages
for their therapeutic integrity.
In this frame of mind and heart,
several years ago
I wrote this verbatim
on behalf of my daughter
with oppositional defiant disorder
and cerebral palsy.
Rereading it just now,
I wonder how different
really
are her imagined thoughts from mine
and yours?
in diverse political and economic senses
speaking and listening with each other
across our less than confluent
health enlightened
and wealth care
empowering/disempowering
polarized unholistic divides:
You asked me to ask when I need help,
and to add a please and thank you,
if at all possible.
I have done that often.
You ask me to ask to hold your hand
when you can't otherwise hear me ask for help.
I am doing that right now.
I am not like you.
I wish I could be,
but I cannot.
I need you to appreciate me for who I am
more than attack me for who I am not,
and probably will never become.
My mind and body work similarly to yours,
but do not produce feelings and faith,
health and happiness,
language and love
as effectively as does your
LeftBrain verbally privileged
systemically light white trauma
capitalized wellness incorporation.
I worry.
You and yours often make me anxious,
stressed,
confronted by possibilities that I am not fully human
in your indignant eyes
and monetized mind,
perceived as not only differently abled
but inferiorly disabled.
I tend to panic.
Frequently your harsh spoken world overwhelms me.
I lose self-control when bombarded
by too much inside stimulation
from outside competition.
I want time and Earth and life and you and us
to slow peacefully down.
In these anxious situations,
if you want to help me,
then please stop,
slow down with me,
look at me,
wait until I am ready to look back.
Just give me a moment
or two
or three
or a lifetime
to catch up.
If I can trust you to do this,
I and we will be OK.
I will learn to trust that I could be OK,
and I will feel grateful,
occasionally
to live with you,
to share my life with you
as you share yours with me
and what is mine.
So not yours
to keep away from me.
So give it back
please and thank you.
'twas the night before any Christmas...
And all over our any town,
Lonely seniors tried so hard to forget,
What life was like in a land long ago.
When husbands or their wives were still living,
and the kids were all still home, very giving,
Today, that device called a phone,
Is not used even though they
are now even in cars?
And families send you photos of them in bars?
Or...places to impress we silly old elves!
"Why don't they leave us alone and get a life
for themselves."
So off they go, these abled bodied-beings,
Not even dreaming that perhaps one day,
they will be ancient and alone, too.
So, whether it's Christmas or just a plain day,
pick up any phone you own!
Say hello to the living,you cannot speak
to the dead!
What is wrong inside your head?
Don't think a text or email can ever replace
lovable you.
And as for our"busy" excuses?
I won't say what I call that.
What, are you...a conceited aristocrat?
Call your friend, cousin,grandmother,
grandfather,Mother or Dad.
Anyone that you care about.
If not, it tells me it's you....it's only
..whom you value.
These old folks in the twilight of their
years,
Must not be ignored, you never see
their silent tears.
Do people no longer care?
They miss being loved and respected,
And believe it or not,
A dog or a cat will not make it for them.
They need a human being,I ask...when?
These seniors are terrified to call you
at home or at work.
In a world that over glorified technology,
Where life has become one word
communication.
And there is no life on earth,
Except living in the Facebook Nation?
Worse, emojis are not cute,
Nor, what does it say about you?
And more horrid to me, when the initial of
your baptismal name becomes you?
It's sad..and as for automated replies?
Are you kidding?
An insult to humanity.
None of us is royalty.
Conceited, full of self, you bet.
I don't know where the life I knew
has gone.
I don't even know where love
has gone.
We all morphed into Alexa's?
I cannot give birth to the past.
Just talk to my walls and stare at
unwashed frying pans..alas!
PanagiotaRomios
4/26/2019
2:15 pm PST
I sat under the grey shadow of the gloomy night
Raising the closed curtain of the darkest day's flight
My heart subdued the voice of my inner shrine
Wiping the droplets of tears that wet my chine
I sat dumb hiding my impotence under the downy pillow
Unable to forget your pinched face that shot a thousand bolts into the clear billow
Would you forgive me if I just said a simple sorry?
Would that perturbed darkness on your mother's face bring back my glory?
Who is to be cursed in the stillness of this direful dream?
Who is to be put at fault amidst the leftover cherries of the melting cream?
Is it the almighty for his inhuman act of snatching your ability?
Or
Is it me for driving you into the envelope of the shooting debility?
I cannot forgive my ownself for this act of mine
I'ld like to one day witness your smile enlightening the global shrine
Yeah!
Only that can give me peace
Washing away the broken pieces of my guilt
P.S. I wrote this poem as I felt broken when I couldn't convince the head of our institution from sending a child who was differently abled away from the school. He has become so close to me and he loved me so much. He was kept in the school just for one week and I used to take very good care of him. As the boy behaved differently from the rest of the children, he was sent out of the institution. I couldn't do anything about that as I was not the decision maker. I couldn't convince the management as well. No one was to be blamed there. It's the management's duty to think about the other children as well. That night I couldn't sleep and something pinched me from inside. I still am not able to forget the face of that child. He gave a deep look towards me that asked me a thousand questions for which I had no answer.
I am in a relationship . . .
I live with my dis-ability and me
To look you would not guess
It is a secret I keep very well
When I told my boyfriend, Henri
He could not get away fast enough
And why not, a handsome guy like him
With a blind girl, that is too much
So he left me and ran away
And I am doing just fine, Henri
But there are some problems
I can no longer read small print
On bottles, cans and containers
My friends are so protective
Thanks to friends who help me
And I also cannot go out at night
Unless someone is there to guide me
Because all I see at night are shadows
I use a magnifying glass to read
I zoom my computer and television
One evening I forgot to turn on the lights
But I did not realize the difference (really)
I will never move anything out of place
Oh often I have misplaced my glasses
At dance class I stay close up front
So I can see the instructor . . .
I can still write my poetry thankfully
And when I cannot friends will help
For the words are in my mind
And that will never ever change
I am memorizing things like trees
Skies, flowers, sunrises, sunsets
And waves crashing, rain, snow
My friends faces and my cats too
There is no surgery to help me
No magic pill to make it better
So this is it- this is my destiny I suppose
Not the one I planned but one given . . .
I ask God why but there is silence
So I will make the best of it
___________________________
October 16, 2016
Free Verse
For the contest, In A Relationship With A Dis-Abled Person
Sponsor, W. Thomas Markham
First Place
Here we are - both you and I...
Yet to ask each other why.
Why, that is, our combination
May result in conversation.
The two of us - complete strangers...
Potentially abled exchangers.
Upon more magnified inspect,
Do the two of us expect
More or less of first impression?
For now, this is unknown confession.
We verbally commence the meeting...
Extend our hands in formal greeting.
A confident and firm handshake
Suggesting what we each will take
When our talk comes to its closure...
Composure, or maybe exposure?
This is set aside for now
As who, what, where, when and how
Becomes the basis of our blog...
Communication - dialogue.
Underway now - that of which...
Our information, thick and rich
Is swapped without the need to smother...
Conversing - one to the other.
Throughout its course, I play detective...
Looking into your perspective.
The further our talking is travelled,
More of which we are unravelled.
Common interests, histories...
Perceptions, other mysteries.
I get to know of you much better
In person more than a letter
Could outline our situation
With its grammar and dictation.
Of our meeting in the present,
I view these moments as pleasant.
Our mutual respect is there...
This, we are both well aware.
Without the thought to criticize
Each other, we can summarise.
Here we are now - you and I...
In warm embrace of our goodbye.
We can say we are exchangers
Now more than previous strangers.
We took the time in our attempt
To not leave anything exempt.
More a fusion than confusion...
Our departures, the conclusion
Of a strong collaboration
Succeeded in its conversation.
She entered my life upon happenstance.
I was unaware and naive.
No angels to carry my chin.
No raindrops to cleanse my emptiness.
"I am a landscaper without a garden.
Surely, you cannot help me?"
An unhesitant smile bewitched me.
I began to drown within the scent of her hair.
Her left eyelash softly brushed my cheek
rendering me captured and speechless.
"My name is Rain."
I paused. I silently swallowed.
Her simplistic beauty enveloped me.
Cerulean eyes. Crimson lips. Indigo lashes.
Our fingertips entwined and my being
was suffocated into the magical beating of her heart.
I bowed my head and stammered:
"I've never flown above canyons before."
"I usually sink into the bottom of an empty lake."
Rain kept silent. She spoke to me through her eyes.
Riding upon the wings of an ivory stallion, we glided.
A crystal ball of wonderment she bequeathed me.
She abled me to envision:
Memories from my past.
Hopes of my present.
Dreams for my future.
Our journey seemed like an eternity.
A carousel ride a child never wants to cease;
a mysterious enchantress I wanted to stay.
I didn't expect her exit.
The clouds swelled around her flowing silk cloak;
her wings of white. I remember now. I wanted to cry
as she drifted into the inviting dusk.
I thought I was sobbing but was mistaken.
I was basking in the memories,
hopes, dreams and
the promise of tomorrows
with the glorious teardrops of
my guardian angel.
"Rain...
whisper your sacred lullabyes and
fall upon me again.
Please, fall upon me
again."
Wrapped in blood, borne a soul,
Unlyk odr babies, he wasn't whole.
Something was missing physically,
Which was gng to hurt him mentally.
Neither was the doctor happy, nor was nurse,
As if the child's birth was mere curse.
Mother was revered no more by the family,
Coz the baby boy they wanted, was not normal typically.
Frightened and tired of the criticism,
Mother wished to abandon him, commit cynicism.
A year ago, she had given birth to a girl,
Who was burden for rest but for her, a pearl.
Again she gave birth to an unwanted fellow,
Her children were not as in-law's expectations that were shallow.
Every year, millions of women face this terror,
Girls and specially abled children are considered as mother's error.
While creating an art work, we try to make it perfect,
Then why would a mother imbibe, in it's child any such defect.
Definitely then, it's not her fault,
Then why is she blamed and not given benefit of doubt.
May be the father carries a defective Gene,
Here medical tests must intervene.
But then, why are we focusing on who z the guilty,
It's not humans, we are creation of the almighty.
If hand becomes disabled or brain stops working,
We must support them, this should be our upbringing.
No one z less, no one z more,
No one z dirty, no one z pure.
Every one has a role on the earth, to play,
Let's not get distracted and make out the most from each day.
(To a brother, he gives his biryhday celebration to be with the less fortunate kids. He is a hand of this nation)
Love ain't an illy feeling healed but a commuted commitment
Care and fair ain't a lay pay job but a heart learnt art of passion
At a young age yearned long to hand a hand to them
Yours heart pained, drenched with love for the kids
Drunk in intense integrity intimately intending to help
Shunned of your pleasure and leisure to raise and strike a ray
Left all comforts and some-pots to lightly knight a heart
Humbled like an infant faced firm no fear
Hope and trust, trained tranquility to you
Them tummied, armied and dummied grace a day in Green Land
You, humbled, abled, labeled and favoured grace it in Green Card
Not to fill yours abdomen and **** cavity like they
But a ground to grace and ace a life and file a future
Want no fine wine, no 'kay cake
But see, think as I ink his list of least needs for feeds
For he humbles to offer it for free to them
Them,some not known of a day like it
For only him present in their presence
Its him OMONDI FRANCIS.
As he elevates and celebrates a great day
Pimps and teams the kids with joy
Frees and fills their day with love
Invites and incites us all to join
Lets support and sup up his passion
Born a boy but who serves a nation
For as a country we conquered Like a society we sort
Happy Birthday bro.
Far from sight
I hear the sounds of mini birds chirping
Yellow leaves blowing from the ground.
The breeze, oh so peaceful!
The lovely trees that shelter the summer rays,
Sheltered me at night.
The sun is in haste, clock in ahead of time
The glittering of the twilight is enchanting
Because...
Dreams are made at dusk.
I walk and walk albeit I bow my head to the ground;
Thirsty, gasping and sweating...
But ah, the dew drops, the green moist leaves
Apparently Eased my bruised heel!
Indeed the silent street is; my silent dreams
my forgotten desire’s
My heart has nothing to ask for
Often numb by bruises, journeying through desert.
Yet I owe this silent street of life.
For that has enable me to embrace life as it arrived
To tipped my hat with awe,
To be at peace with nature and man
And vent not my voice to curse but bless.
One must walk through the silent street
Because...
The only Abled, I AM, walked that street;
Carried the heavy wooden cross,
Fulfilled the promise made.
Then I must not bide my time to walk the silent street;
Though it has its own distaste
It's a lucid gold, my very own delight
Because
My thoughts will be prune
My aim will no longer be narrow
My life is not in vain
You and I are treasured possession to Christ
And our joy will not be hidden.
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
27/09/2022