Long Abrasions Poems
Long Abrasions Poems. Below are the most popular long Abrasions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Abrasions poems by poem length and keyword.
Don't it sound like
Th' old is about to die?
Take them happy stories
And say goodbye
We were going forward until you left me behind
We were going forward, through the best n' the worst of times
Change of season
As even the clocks unwind
When you would come around like
A friend of mine
We were going forward until you left me behind
You would come around, Claude, and we would unwind
Didn't we have enough of the stuff of life, Claude?
Long way to go with
Abrasions on the knee
Take aim at the target though it's
Well out of reach
We were going forward until you left me behind
We were going forward until you left me
Didn't we have the worst and the best of times?
Hold on tight
A journey begins
Not in the crowded city streets
A journey of high mountains
as close to heaven
that you think you can catch the stars
Pack your backpack with sad thoughts
Upwards ... the bag is heavy
I will hold you in your hand
Stop ... take a deep breath
Your journey has begun
Proud high mountains suddenly makes the backpack a little lighter
Follow your feet forward
The air is crisp and fresh
Even if you are tired
Lower your shoulders
I'll teach you to dance on the sparkling snow
Our goal is the top
The backpack feels lighter
Do not give up - we will reach our peak
Heavy thoughts erased
Abrasions and tired feet
Satisfaction - a major force
The goal is reached ... you won
Dance in the sparkling snow ... catch your star
The backpack is empty
The whole world is at your feet
21.05.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
It courses through the blood
hidden from view it seeks out
the T-cells attaching itself
it silently goes to work
Invading and taking over
not caring if it's host
be a young person or old
killing of the white cells
Your gender it cares nothing for
or if you are straight or gay
insidiously it can hide for years
a master of disguise it patiently waits
Growing stronger all the time
breaking down the body's defences
it corrupts turning cells alien
not caring that as it slowly kills
That eventually it will too die
that as it completes its invasion
leaving a sick body open to attack
covered with open sores and abrasions
This silent killer in murdering you
does itself meet its own doom
dying along with its host
will we ever find a real cure?
This is about Aids/ HIV though it could also refer to cancer HIV is ingenious in
its ability to hide itself inspires by Harlan Coben's book Miracle cure
when I last looked
snow sprawled in
like an embrace from a foreign world
outdoor walk suspended
by squabbles of sleeted wet
unappealing chords
of ice pellets that stand hair on edge
to coat a hatless head in splinters
force that shapes a winter's pace
implanted temper
abrasions
in tracks of snow
as February squeezes into loins
an ache
my icy fingers
trace the window, vaporized
a shield of separation
a pledge of freedom re-booted
like green paths rising
a shifting focus
till March tramps into place
month of mis-rule
ornamental promise
that a turnstile world
clangs change
when I next look
to turn the page
Poem written February 23, 2023
Amidst this greenery and purple heather
Azure blue skies grace our naked souls
Beneath the Cullins on the Isle of Skye
Two in love sharing adventurous goals
On our tartan blanket facing each other
Noses in touch sharing kisses aplenty
Rapid they are in teasingly smother
Tongues now fence, complimentary
Wandering hands on porcelain skin
Gracing, caressing, she sighs as I do
Arching her back, her breasts in rise
Pert to the air, this soon to join two
Slowly in kissing crawl, to her lips I
Caressing undulations, blushing she
Our eyes meet, for they tell no lies
In loving clasp she welcomes me
Rhythmic we are in this rustic place
Seismic groans of wonderment cry
Skin to skin of loving abrasions
Two fused astride my manly thighs
Gyrating hips in sensuous grind
Internal flows await their desire
Passionate kisses now frenzied
Fusion of two in wanting transpire
a cog in the wheel and a log on the fire
of dreams I hallucinate unless the days
are visions of sleepless delusions of truth
its real and surreal when nights close in
I used to be a knight in shining armour
kissing the princess after conquests won
life matured and dreams changed their way
I became chipped wood shaved into pieces
abrasions of a sculpture unfit for purpose
a brigade of chainsaws stunted my growth
the forester ruled relentlessly and debrided
what was left of saplings and torn offshoots
roots failed to spring up from the underworld
weeds’ thorns cut deep into vulnerable skin
and festering wounds oozed poison at will
one day however a creek crept up from below
viscous tears gave me a springboard from arrest
I plunged in slow motion to follow the stream
when I reached the ocean I feared to submerge
too vicious were tides and the surf sucked me in
drowned me but spat me out ‘return to sender’
still dreaming I built a beach hut by a rock pool
drift wood sea shells and white flag of surrender
octopus’ arms released me to become a dolphin
no more do I have to save the world on my own
because a small marine fairy liked my abode
fixed my anchor with love passion and kindness
the sand quakes and spray caresses our bodies
embraces night terrors adopts them as friends
for honest companions can weather the storm
14th April 2021
My autopsy room is a confessional,
where killers in absentia divulge
their sins through bodies
rigid and frigid, mutilated and mute.
Graffiti of abrasions, contusions and lacerations
reenact without deceit or reservations
a catalogue of perversions and violations.
Rage, hatred, greed, jealousy, sickness
explode and leave behind vandalized anatomies,
a *********** of naked emotions
in the topography of vacated husks.
Silently, they talk.
With my eyes, I listen.
They confide in me about themselves too,
these chatty cadavers,
about their public faces and private hell.
Tattoos speak of loves and obsessions,
silicone breasts betray insecurities,
medications reveal internal insurgencies,
needle marks give away muffled screams,
cirrhosis lets on alcoholic dreams.
A hundred foibles preserved by the
candor of rigor mortis,
each corpse an abridged,
unfinished biography.
By the end of their final confessions, the departed
have parted with their burdens of secrets.
In death much more than in life,
there is honesty.
Still, I take comfort in the lies of the living.
I fall a raindrop from stratus to stratum
birthed from clouds pregnant with thunder
a lion’s roar —a pride in the sky— fierce!
armed with lightning’s rip and slit
the scythe of claw and tooth finds its prey
knifing sunset’s skin desecrating cranberry rays
it’s red demise fills my see-through-eyes
Sun’s canvas shredded
I fall through tattered pages of watercolor-layers
accumulating dust and blood of the slayed day
I arrive not a predator but a peace-maker
my raiment fleece of lamb not mane of beast
I come to rest
a drop of rain who clings to a windowpane
… translucence transforms me
inside a room I see myself with my possession-pain
a swaddle-bundle I rock to soothe
pain held against my breast like a newborn
crying to be fed
nurtured with lemon-squeezed tears
and sticky sick-sweet milk of revenge
my fingertips trace my descent down the glass
I pray not to let the dark moon be my doom
I know myself like turmoil-seas know the shore
let the salt-sea’s seethe meet still grains of sand
abrasions cleanse one of crime and grime
I know myself like the night knows the morn
let the night be a knight
and capture rapture with light-swords of dawn
I know myself
the games I played with leather fringe and lace
his Marlboro face the Moët taste
the magnet attraction pulled my limbs apart
I am a tear liberated from the storm
free to fall free to fall oh I had to fall so far to be free
fall from heights where lust-wishes glisten
slip the stardust handcuffs
fall from nimbus find the limbus of self and soul
find a way to rise above black seams
and wanton scenes of my scream-dreams
translucence transforms me
I let go of the windowpane
and die to myself casting off pleasure of pain and sin
I fall to silent-sister soil inhaled to be exhaled
on dizzy wind-whimsy-warmth of first light
I fall a new drop of dew wet with sky light
as I bear Love's cross like a white lotus bears its muddy birth
4/22/17
No intentions of being misleading
Could go by bleeding
Is one way of leaving
As the heart stops beating
And the lungs stop breathing
Also could be caused from exsanguination
Across a pagan nation
Could go by strangulation
Which'll cause and make abrasions
With no intentions of making a statement
Pulse rapid then slowing
Could go by overdosing
Knowing
It comes with the risk of choking
Could go
While on the road
Or in your own home
You just never know
The voices calling
On any side of the walling
Could go by falling
The outcome would be appalling
Yet enthralling
Like something never before seen, or only in a drawing
Above the Earth's layers
Could go by the might of Mother Nature
Whether your on land or in a ship as a sailor
The odds just may not go in your favor
Sooner than later
The sight of even greater danger
Among objects that are inanimate
Could go by accident
Tragic and just about as bad as it gets
Near and far from any waters with halibut
Only an earthling
Could go by burning
With zero chance of returning
Might be considered disturbing
But there are technically worse things
No guarantees
Could go by disease
Anywhere, not just by the seas
Or any trees and leaves
Whether your a kid, teen
Or ninety three
Regardless of if it involves being annointed
It's been one heck of a voyage
Could go by poison
Which could be quick or miserable and far from joysome
I'll tell you what it wouldn't taste anything like Hoisin
And like usual fingers would probably get pointed
Due to one too many mistakes
Could go up in space
On a ship or base
At a slow or rapid pace
Whether or not the pulse began to race
All of us are fallible
Could go by getting eaten by a cannibal
Or some kind of animal
Whether or not their claws are retractable
Nobodies laughing
Could go by crashing
Whether or not it's your fault, still come the sirens and lights flashing
Like they say nothing is truly everlasting
Before during or after nine
Could go due to it being my time
Which would be fine
And rather benign
Except that I need to finish this rhyme
By: Dalton Ogletree
abused as a small child,
so meek and so damn mild-
innocence brought sadness,
in adulthood came madness.
daddy couldn’t put the bottle down,
he tried and failed many a time-
too many bruises black and brown,
falling back down every time I climb.
I was beauty and ashes combined,
a fake smile hiding my frown.
I grew up with that same mindset,
putting the pill bottle down was hard-
raging silence and moments of fret,
in the game of poker, I drew the wrong card.
my wounded soul, unsutured and scarred,
now I live in the shadows of ebony regret.
she just couldn’t stop the drink in hand,
suicide took her away from me-
I may never quite understand,
now her laugh but a sweet memory.
my eyes too blind to really see,
the death of my sister’s wonderland.
my injured heart learned many lessons,
my aches and pains have killed my essence-
lesions left abrasions and anguish remains,
and now crimson scars run through my veins.
blemished and battered left with scratches,
please Lord, sew over these dirty patches-
I needed an ounce of self-security,
but these wounds left me in obscurity.
abandoned by those who I needed most,
the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost-
forgiveness has been lost in atonement,
as I quiver and shiver in this chilling moment.
abused as a small child,
so meek and so damn mild-
youth brought intense woe,
now it's time for me to let go.
June 21, 2017