Long Absent Poems
Long Absent Poems. Below are the most popular long Absent by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Absent poems by poem length and keyword.
The new language
It was late August, on a glaringly hot day, when I felt dizzy
went to sit on a gigantic carob tree full of beans on thick leaves
to sit in its cooling shade; it was pitch dark inside, and I could see
nothing at all until my eyes got adjusted.
the sheep, seven of them, had sought relief from the sun’s cruelty
My dog refused to enter; she had been head-butted by a ram
the sheep looked alarmed; another human to order them around
but when I sat down among them, they took me for another ram
they continued to chew, looking absent-minded; with white wool
The sheep had white fleece in sharp contrast to the carob beans
that was like the gnarled fingers of a dark person (black is out)
Nothing is the same anymore; some men say they are women and
blithely disregard biological facts as unimportant.
There are no longer any Jews in Israel, now called Israelites
it is as if they are trying to kill the ghost of yesterday by living a lie.
In Denmark, a children’s book was withdrawn showing a black doll
a new book issued, a merger of many faces, quite unreal,
like the faces were drawn by I.A and certified by a committee.
Trust sat beside me Once, listening quietly,
nodding as I shared the parts of my Life that still Ached…
I thought it was safe.
I thought it understood.
But Trust changed its face.
It took what I had given gently
and handed it to Betrayal,
who Repeated my pain without shame,
as if my wounds were meant to be felt again.
Judgment arrived early and Spoke Loudly.
It asked no questions.
It pointed, labeled and walked away—
leaving words behind that I had to carry
Shame did not come alone.
People came with it.
They lifted their phones.
Some laughed.
What I was going through became something to pass around:
as if Dignity were optional,
as if Pain existed for other people to see.
Rumors moved faster than truth.
They spoke for me before I had the chance,
Passing from room to room,
Changing my name as they went,
until Strangers felt free
to decide Who I was.
Authority arrived,
but not to listen.
Justice was never intended,
only exposure.
If Sincerity had existed,
It should have found me first.
I stood ready for whatever arrived..
I was never hiding.
But Sincerity never showed up.
It stayed Absent…
while fear and avoidance did the talking.
Now I know:
Trust did not break by accident.
It was taught to harm.
I had to put the pieces of me back in place
where Compassion should have been.
You, gorgeous Muse, with velvety skin
The sugary sap of my poetic pen
And the sole labyrinth of my soul
You inspire me and I adore you.
You are my perennial spring smile
The garden of my ethereal flowers
The leitmotif of my dreams in exile
And the fictional oasis of the fall showers.
You are the guardian angel who's never absent
And the devoted hope with multifarious scent
You never say no, no. Oh! Eternal is your beauty.
Woman, Woman, Muse of Saint-Valentine
Your sweet perfume seduces my whole being
And your maternal voice rocks me daily like a baby.
Copyright © January 14,2015 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Emotions vibrate through
the heavens
Crying out desirous of a love
Beseeching its warm embrace
Yet it goes unfelt,
unheard, unanswered
Hopes for a pragmatic love
just a dream
Expectations being
preconceived
For the universe could
not grasp the greatness
of her yearning,
this she had come to
grips with because surely
none could provide fulfillment
Melancholy settles over her
as she carefully wraps
her love back up in ribbons
of longing, placing it back into
a box of disappointment
Sitting upon her empty bed
of sorrow absent of emotion
For tears dried up years ago
and only out of habit did
she release its vibration
out into the heavens
knowing she would remain
a castaway on this island
where love seemed
could not live.........
When Eyes keep finding You
In spite of training the Heart not to
It turns out to be a futile effort
to even think of parting from You
When Days turn into Months
yet your Thoughts keep leaving impact
when ignorance makes me observant
and pay more respect towards You
When your voice shines out of all
I end up believing to be more sensitive
when it's Something about You
It feels important to listen to You
I see light in your mere presence
even when you are actually absent
like tokens of brightness in the dark
You give off hope, leading the right path
So, to tell you the truth
My world does revolve around You
I'm just an observer
always there for You,
and You're in the limelight
always the centre of my Life!
(an All Poetry feat to walk in
the poetic feet of Robert Frost)
Bucolic New England, circa
Early twentieth century New England
awash with dynamic harmonic leisureliness,
when much of North America favored rustic
visual whirled wide webbed watercolor
waiting afield at dusk, the thrum
of nature all abuzz didst feed thine
dizzily green jovial mien
unlike mean Gary Lewis
veritable innocence and naiveté
rollicked with mine lanky frame
relishing ambling into my own quietude
an infinite breadth, length and scope
of infrequently trammeled near virgin
woodland paths grown over with brambles
nonetheless a faintly trussed harbinger
marked by weatherbeaten
for sale signposts
with here and there an abandoned plow
long since given over
to rust when the pasture
seasons elapsed since
farmer(s) left unharvested
fecund fields absent
the cloven hoof,
and deprived enrichment
manure, sans ungulates
ceased sufficing healthy
free ranging bovines,
where etudes punctuated
the terribly gross fresh air,
now no longer audibly quickening,
snapchatting, nor twittering
with the last word of a bluebird
deathly silence now 'cept
the wind in the willows
whispering woebegone laments
tree tops pining to cradle
idle youthful dreamers
boughs devoid of
psalm quivering romantic songstress
clattering debris merely
delivering echoed whooshing refrains
continually disintegrating among
in a disused graveyard
prescient ken aches with nostalgia
hallucinogenic nightmare slams
irrevocably shut the door in the dark
closed for good upon the onset,
wrought genocide against
the vanishing Red man,
a ghostly scarification meaningless ritual
wrested, removed, and highjacked
from indigenous peoples
without rhyme, nor reason
as fraternities no
longer pledge allegiance.
Misfortune passed me today, with days of constant pursuit, a leg dropped me a pass, my tongue twisting, my long well rehearsed script, grew lines I new not their whereabouts, it was calmness and character that stole my attention and today luck made brave enough to cough my chest long blockages,
a Sotho lady, so humbled and collected, I saw a woman in her eyes, literally directing to a tomorrow of hope and accountability, some tranquillity in me sighed, I met greatness and fineness in one today, a blend only God hands can blend,
she had me speaking languages never thought was capable of, until she said her name was Lerato, losing me in my senses, as her voice manifest in my mind, was only butterflies and stars in my sanity, woman daughter!, please reduce the volume, I'm losing my innate capabilities, in you,
she took my present in her words, still I battling for a way to my here and now, with her hypnotising articulations, my vocab formatted, Gemming my expressions in her volatile humility frequencies, I suspect heaven delegated creative and artistic creators in absent of God to perfect what God has already started, this Lady in the forefront of my heart beat
#Poetic_Ink
The (former) Double Life Of Matthew Scott Harris
Dove finch he following iniquitous
licentious, lecherous longing
extinguished quite
some years ago,
when eldest daughter
stopped being polite
actually she ceased - might
tee angry talking heads
to this papa for months, whose
only asks prays foe praise,
and who doth newt
wish to ignite
animosity from any beloved fan,
whose critical judgement
toward my errant friskiness,
aye snuffed out light
and accepts dues
against prickly don'ts,
and opted to risk broad
casting general height
full actions, which attestation
spiritedly burst asunder
blitzing Lenovo external
screen within minutes bite
mutt hung lest
censorious replies pillory
this sensitive chap
I merely uncorked
irrepressible facet
(asian iron maiden
strangle choke hold)
forced these words
to help give hollow explain
nations of this nada
so shiny white knight
philanderer (juiced now cum
ming clean) by night just
an oon din
aery in Das scribe
bubble during -
the day until...zee...
wife found me absent - yee
(ping, and sowing, thee
rather desiccated oats)
celibacy playing tree
men dose impetus tryst,
viz midlife crisis spree
from sleeping quarters re:
at 724 West Rail
road Avenue, pre
planned within
the basement nee
tricked out as cellar quasi
pent house suite for me
comfortable sleep
ping accommodations,
pleasing this wander
lusting NON GMO lee
burr teen, sans mat,
(and also Scottish Matt)
tress atop boxspring key
ping stockpiles of prurient frilly
laced female lingerie, je
nais se quois, no matter
escapade usual lee
took place in pitch black dark
accouterments singularly, solely,
and strictly necessitated,
arousing, coaxing, and
exciting libido asper
one barenaked lady for
yours truly, whereat
aye do blatantly
confess flute'n glute'n guilt free
to concocting, hat
ching, and orchestrating
profligate secrete
rendezvous aspirations
toward sordid man of la
cherry munch ching Lothario
(a combination Casanova,
Don Juan) wannabe.
emerald sky, jade evening
everything is a washed
in pale light aglow
in the coming night
shifting hues
the wind blows
gaining strength
echo of deep rumbles roll
lighting flashes brightly
crack of sliver streaks
all held in the aftermath of a
searing white flash
as branches dance
overlapping hues
of emerald and jade
shadows swim and sway
a storm is coming
air electric
rain waiting to break
sitting on a porch
feeling the dying heat
chilly winds cool my hot skin
After burn of a white summer day
everything now is in soft hues
pale light green of evening, falls
Shifting shades of amber, jade, azure
twilight thunder echoes
lightning flashes sharp blue, white
all pulse in the aftermath
shades of jade
jasper and onyx die
as I wait the rain breaks
in relief it comes, washes
way the days malaise
heat of sun rays fading
in the swing dreaming
feeling the misty rain
listening to voices afar
a radio tuning in
iced tea dripping
all darkening
in deeper shades of violet, indigo
flickering sheet lighting plays
rain falling in absent rhythms
watching emeralds and azures
run
sway
fade...
This is my first attempt at blank verse
Don't expect a lot of content
It's a blank verse for goodness sakes
So the dialogue will be absent
How much of a clue do you really need
The verse is supposed to be blank
Do I really need to explain it any further
Don't wanna sound like a crank
Some may find this a little ridiculous
Trying something so bizarre
A poem that doesn't contain any words
Devoid of ABCs and Rs
I'm always game to try something new
It's my very first poem about nothing
Instead of a bunch of silly old verses
Bout lovemaking and passionate hugging
So what do you think of my first attempt
Did it make any sense to you
If it did, then my efforts were a total failure
So it's back to the quatrains, Magoo!
© Jack Ellison 2013