Long Absolves Poems
Long Absolves Poems. Below are the most popular long Absolves by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Absolves poems by poem length and keyword.
I didn’t slam the door.
I left it beating in the wind
to see who would still tremble at its sound.
You call it leaving—
I see an elegant renunciation,
a desertion disguised as inner clarity.
Emotions don’t die:
they wait until we stop disciplining them.
Your wall isn’t colossal,
it’s convenient.
High enough not to answer,
thick enough not to hear
anything but the version of you that absolves itself.
Boundaries, you say.
But after drawing enough borders,
we end up confusing peace
with the absence of voices.
Having nothing left to give
is often a refusal to receive.
The new life you announce
resembles a sterile room:
everything is clean there,
nothing lives.
The possible no longer bleeds,
so it cannot grow.
Disappointment isn’t a poison,
it’s proof:
something mattered.
The solidity you brandish
is only premature hardening,
fear turned into a posture.
You say you once cared.
I believe you—
but caring in the past
is the politest way
to betray the present.
The door you close
wasn’t a gift,
it was an invitation.
And an invitation doesn’t demand flight
when the guest becomes unsettling.
You distance yourself to survive.
I stay to live.
I don’t pursue you—
I hold the place
where you could have stayed.
Came back for no good reason, other than making a splash
Recoiling in horror, when my demons emit a flash
Anointed by unholy chrism, absolves me from the trash
Can oil ever be sacred, when not making ready cash
So would heaven be enough, if eternal less one day
It's said hell lasts forever, burning plasma if we stray
I belong in purgatory, in its orbit i'll stay
Even a rogue event horizon, couldn't drag me away
Innards will remain hidden, til grotesquely overblown
A hungry mouth sets up residence, seeking a new home
Put two and two together, you see the vision i've sown
A metaphorical language, this tongue I call my own
In the end love conquers all, even love tainted by hate
I loath its taste in my mouth, pity I’m hooked on the bait
Sometimes I wonder if you ever stop to see what this has done to me.
How long I carried the weight alone, begging for someone to notice.
But here I stand now quiet, alone, hurting, and still.
I kept the peace so long, I forgot what my own voice sounded like.
I bent myself into shapes that made you comfortable, not whole.
But the truth kept whispering louder and louder against my will.
You say I pulled away as if I vanished without reason.
As if distance was a whim and not the bruise of years of being blamed.
You rewrite history quickly, but my body remembers still.
You speak like nothing happened,
as if my shaking hands and sleepless nights are just my imagination.
As if my pain itself has no right to feel.
You watched me drown in silence,
and when I finally reached for air, you called me "brainwashed."
Truth is inconvenient for those who built their safety on might.
I used to think if I explained enough,
carefully, gently, you’d finally sit with what I feel.
But you only hear what absolves you, convinced only you are right.
You protect your comfort like a kingdom,
and anything that threatens it becomes an enemy in your eyes.
But I won’t bow to a narrative that wounds me at the core.
I won’t accept gifts that cost my peace,
or invitations that require pretending nothing happened.
I won’t reopen wounds just to keep a fragile story secure.
I wanted you to see me.
To hear me.
To care even a fraction of what I feel.
But you chose the story that keeps you innocent,
and made me the villain so you could play the victim.
Taking the family I needed, to sit with me as I heal.
Yes, I have stepped away.
But not in anger. Not in haste.
Distance was the only place where I could breathe in peace.
I stepped back because I know now that I matter.
Because love without honesty is no love at all.
And I just wanted the pain to cease.
Hang up the phone on me, hide behind your hate.
Lose the fragile bond we shared
I will not pretend this wound was ever “no big deal.”
You blame me for the rift.
But all I asked for was kindness.
A gentle answer turns away wrath, unless its far too real.
I’m learning to breathe again.
To trust the voice inside me that refuses to be still.
To walk away from what harmed me so I can finally heal.
Seashell
as I take shape
i lie here in wait
the wind beating
upon my back
my image carved out
by gritty sands of
life
i feel my grooves;
their hardness
i get smoothed over
by the warm sun
but jagged edges
still remain
not as pristine as
when I began
i am swept up
by the gentle palm
of tide
the water-it
absolves me
rightly cleansed
i face sand and
wind again
picked up and thrown
down
never the right fit
battered by the
elements of time
as I take shape
lifted up from this
place of toil
at last
held to my saviours’
ear
i sing a song of
redemption
for my glorious god
to hear
-8/3/14-
Form:
Words dissolve in a simmering pot~
not soup, but something more.
Each ladle releases a new verse,
a flavor never before tasted.
Some mix their sorrow as deeply as a roux,
while others scatter hope like coarse black pepper.
A smidgen of resentment bitters the broth
while laughter improves the brew.
I bring my scraps, my burnt-edged rhymes,
my half-chewed thoughts still warm.
The pot absolves the awkward lines,
transforming them into poesies.
And when the steam has filled the room,
when my tongue is tinctured,
I leave not fed—but changed, undone~
with someone else’s hunger inside.
He stumbles on the subway
Initially I cringe
I'm put off by the way he smells
From alcoholic binge
He mumbles incoherent
I start to feel ashamed
I slide my hand in my front pocket
Fumbling for some change
But I don't think he's asking
And now I feel confused
Why suddenly he's deathly still
In contemplative muse
It's then I sensed my pity
That's founded in this thought
This vagrant's smell is rank with failure
Surely mine is not
But just as surely comes the notion
That my thought is wrong
That maybe this man's always been
My equal all along
And in my mind I contemplate
Why I refused to see
My world won't be so bad a place
If love is given free
And so my judgment loosens as
I know not where he's been
A brotherhood in harmony
Absolves the need for sin
I owe this man his right to freedom
The same that he owes me
I spare myself the cost of pain
And simply let him be
And from that moment on I'd ponder
My inner vagrancy
But was it me who smiled at him
Or him who smiled at me?
"Words uttered in anger can weigh heavy on the heart,
but those uttered in contrition absolves a sorrowful soul."
~ authored by poet
Apologetic words, asking forgiveness were uttered
Each one spoken with apprehension as he stuttered
Absolved from carrying the weight of a heavy heart
His soul was liberated so we could make a new start
Romantic words into my ear, he then softly uttered
I felt my lips begin to tremble; my heart fluttered
No longer encumbered by any doubt and concern
since he'd finally declared love for me in return
Tenderly, he held me. Passionate sighs we uttered
The flames of desire burned brighter and sputtered
We kissed as the moon glowed in lucent splendor
My only thought at that moment was, "I surrender"
November 4, 2022
Writing Challenge - Unburden a "U" Word Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Despite our government’s attempts to eliminated our painful history from textbooks…
we will always have the oral history…from people like Mehcad Brooks
Who, like many of us, finds it impossible to believe what has happened,
what is happening now
and what will happen next…
with an administration more interested in the Dow…
than girls (now women) once trafficked and used for sex.
He makes the case that what happened to them is part of an evil and grand design.
and how the lives of these woman and slaves from long ago are fundamentally intertwined.
He wonders how any administration can proclaim without an ounce of guilt
how they feel any gain in the stock market…
absolves them from the sins on which this gain was built.
He feels, as many of us do, that we must face not ignore
atrocities we have committed in the past…
as well as ones we are committing in the present…
if our country is to have a future that will last.
That if we continue to celebrate the climb…
while the people we’ve abused we seek to conceal…
we are all complicit in the oldest American sin…
and as a country we will never heal.
And he makes a plea to anyone in this administration
who still has some light left in their heart…
that this is your moment…to make a change…
that it’s not too late to start.
Now is your chance, he says, to stand up for what you know is right…
to stop this insanity…
there is still time, we all plead, for you to come back to humanity!
Don’t be afraid…if you are the first domino to fall toward justice…
others will follow you too…
If you do….history will call you a hero…
If you don’t…history will have a host of other names for you.
Silent Holy Night
In a manger in Bethlehem
Were three strangers, looking for a bed
There was a star above
Bright and holy
Guiding the three wise men
On camels they rode slowly
In a stable behind the Inn
There was that miracle that absolves all our sin
There was a star above
Bright and Holy
Mother Mary giving birth in her full glory
There he was baby Jesus, in rags but soon to tell his story
In a holy place long ago
There were traitors who could not let go
There was the cold desert night
The stars leading the righteous bright
Glory be, the new born son of he
Leading the world to peace and humanity
In the darkest of hearts that there may be
He brings hope to the silent ones
The holy night of eternity
Note: Last of the trilogy for Christmas
The steadily falling cold August rains
Continue to pour upon Cheshires lanes;
Over flattening fields of soddened wheat,
Soaking the grass, splashing the feet.
Stands the Combine in the shed;
The unripened apples hanging rosy red.
Stands the caped heron all alone -
His glinting eye as cold as stone.
And in amongst the many puddles
We step around like our troubles:
So lurch ahead with our retreat
Like drunken fools in the street.
And through this months darkly frowns
The cleansing downpours wash the towns;
Scrubs the spire from ingrained time -
Absolves the guilt from the crime!