Long Accusingly Poems
Long Accusingly Poems. Below are the most popular long Accusingly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accusingly poems by poem length and keyword.
Hibernating from the spring until Autumn,
who knows where, maybe under garden heaps,
now triggered as December snowflakes come,
the single glove now rouses from it's sleep.
On pavements fingers point accusingly
or maybe show places where one might slip,
one looked liked it was going to pounce on me
and hold my throat in some icy death grip.
I know it's self propelled, that I can prove,
I've gone past one and left it on the ground,
yet later walking back it's surely moved
up on a wall, near where it had been found.
On a fence post, one finger in the air
a gesture showing that it doesn't care.
Mother's hair is whiter than it was a month ago,
her smile is gone; she has aged a hundred years
in thirty days, I do not recognize her.
vibrancy and enthusiasm have dissipated
She cannot sit up, swallow or talk.
I think I’ll know when it is time to let her go.
I hold her hand, it is not freezer cold, but close
a tiny little thing; there is no flicker of the eyes
she is making guttural noises that sound painful.
I look at the clock. I have been here forty-seven minutes.
I cannot bear to be here much longer.
I won’t need words to let her know I am going. She will not care.
My sister comes, and we hold a vigil.
She is loud and happy, glad to see me.
Flitting about in this cramped tiny ugly horrible room.
I am demanding morphine, the nurse hates me and she shows it.
I want this to be over.
Then night draws a veil over the window. All we hear is a death rattle.
I do not know how my sister bears it.
She has watched mother deteriorate into a corpse of herself daily.
I yell for the nurse, but there is still time to hurt ourselves, watching.
Mother's eyes flicker. Clock ticks, accusingly, knowing my thoughts.
Morphine is given. She is finally released from this cancerous body.
We are together, my sister and I, orphans now
Wearing wireless headphones as I listen to the news.
I'm outside watching children playing, taking in the views.
There is screaming in my ears two voices disagree.
A little girl serves her playmates imaginary tea.
They're speaking on the pod, unarmed victims shot by police.
Captives tortured in war. I hear our own. I hear their pleas!
There's screaming in my ear a few voices disagree.
Little girls sitting pretend to speak French saying Oui, Oui!
There are typhoons hitting an island, reminds me of a tsunami.
Also officials gathering parts of a plane shot down by an army.
What happened to the plane that went missing, no one remembers.
Teenagers on the street play basketball great kids, great neighbors.
The president uses his pen, makes some politicians angry.
There is screaming in my ears so many voices disagree.
The girls skip rope, laughter fills the air and singing too.
Pundits discuss, argue this and that it's what they do.
Night and day is closer then these scholars and their degrees.
Theres screaming in my ear, voices, everyone disagrees.
The guys still shooting hoops, living the life, always polite.
Protests on the streets, the police display their might.
Some back peaceful protests others speak accusingly.
There is screaming in my ears, crowds of voices disagree.
I wave goodbye to the boys, we'll talk, I'll see them again soon.
The children want me to skip rope I play along like a buffoon.
They laugh that I can't skip properly. I leave them to their play.
There's screaming in my ear, voices...might as well talk to clay
My sleep will be hard, in the morning the sun will shine, children will wake.
What kind of world will we leave, you smile and laugh but feel like a fake.
Look how well we have done. When did we stop being one, being mild.
What happened to being cohesive? It takes a village to raise a child.
There is too much screaming in my ears, too many voices disagree.
I can only pray, lend my voice to the calm, hope we can all agree.
11~12~2014
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Cyndi MacMillan
Contest Name: I CAN'T BREATHE: A peaceful Protest, An Anthology of Powerful Poems
She can hear a candy wrapper being opened a mile away.
She races home, and tears through her dog door,
Stares at us accusingly, gets on our laps, to smell our breaths.
We always save her a piece.
She has fallen into heaven, my girlfriend laughs.
Not really, as we are no angels, but we love her,
And would probably put our lives in harms way to save her
from the murderers and thieves she warns us about hourly.
We live in the country, and Sophie dog despises a truck on the road.
When one goes by, which is rarely, she bares her teeth, and
wails as if the murderers and thieves are about to steal her candy.
She guards us daily, whether we like it or not.
We have no doubt she would throw herself in front of truck
to save us, and we feel exactly the same way about her.
I finished moving into my residential college as a storm began
- fat raindrops, as big as coconuts, falling from a black and fouling sky.
These northerners were acting like a "tropical storm" (Henri) was a big deal.
“Surely New England gets storms?” I ask, from behind my mask.
“What about NOR_Easters?” I say, like a meteorologist.
“Those are different.” I’m told, with no other explanation.
“Did you bring this storm from the “SOUTH?” I’m asked, accusingly.
*(This was after I told them about coming from one ”bulldog-college-town” to another.)*
“Yes.” I reply, “It was in my luggage.”
A silly question but they have a point - the storm feels like it’s involved and fulfilling some obligation to dramatize my college move-in story.
“Time to quarantine!” I’m informed - “Yep, can’t WAIT!” I lie.
One disaster at a time.
I’m tired of influencers faking nervousness.
my generation wants to care less
these days.
it’s a counter-current hack.
we want to be less defined.
we can search and reflect for ourselves.
we’re sick of the emotion
that’s all over everyone’s faces,
the unsightly splotches of opinion.
the entire election machine,
the process of getting there, is smudged.
It’s a curated mess, an advising spin,
an incomprehensible hex:
“Oh profit pondering,
contradictory means to an end
- bless weave, and conceal,
bloodless dollar debt options,
painful penny pincher paradoxes,
and deadly debt bliss dilemmas..”
“Is this a witch or an arbitrager?” Lisa asked, after rudely leaning over and reading up to this point.
“I was shooting for a numinous type of beat,” I revealed.
“We’re supposed to be working on our thesis definitions,” she said accusingly.
“Are you not challenged, here, hour by hour?” I asked sarcastically.
“I need ideas - well - I have too many ideas, I need some focus, I wanted to see what you had.”
I deadpan looked at her, “Well, you broke the spell - I lost my train.” I complained dryly.
“Don’t put me in a situation.” she said, waving my gripe off as insignificant.
.
.
Songs for this:
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
drive ME crazy! by Lil Yachty
Melt by Nilüfer Yany
In that timeless realm, O Cosmic Sister, our love at the helm, where time stands still-
our love becomes the canvas,
the enzymes, the film.
Each fleeting heartbeat -a brushstroke, ballast,
as devotion paints the sky "magnifique",
eternal hues, in her eyes, a sparkling dye,
in divine critique.
Forever entwined in the sacred weave, are we,
pointed out
accusingly- for our audacity of being,
Wildren, free.
Fabric of love’s tapestry stretching beyond reach,
the cosmos in our conspirasea.
She tosses her hair like a tidal bloom,
cascading through moonlight's embrace,
embracing his imaginuity.
Each strand a whisper of secrets shared of space,
a dance of shadows in the quiet night,
scenting in front of his face.
To implicate our souls waltzing in our amore',
entwined like vines of image-traced,
growing wild under the stars' watchful gaze,
divine,
wine.
This celestial balance, a paradox of grace,
shines here, impossibly, a beacon in the dark,
echoes reverberate purple reveries -
through boundless time, in everspark, soliloquy.
“Fate’s forefather, the architect of dreams,”
her voice, a melody, a soft caress,
giving golden meaning to her means.
Does she know the power of her woven words, her movement of swords?
He wonders if he’s dreaming,
caught in her wake, a tempest of wonder,
her fluidity sketches contours on his soul,
each curve a promise, a link unbreakable, plunder-
unraveling currents of longing tear.
Her levitation magnetism gravitation pulling him near,
an everlasting tug-gondula through love's deep seas,
seven thunders,
O my Liege, she has pulled me under.
A cosmic genesis, our entwined destinies,
an aurora of fate lights our journey ahead, beaconing-hybrids true, tried.
Lines of purpose etched in starlit skies,
we traverse this dance of time,
Forever woven together in this sacred realm,
here, where moments pause, and love reigns supreme, love at the helm.
Where time stands still, we, at our please,
on our knees
as we feel.
I wake up in the morning
With the alarm clock going off
The Major League would hire me
If they got a look at that toss
Landing perfectly in the trash
On the other side of the room
Didn't wake up then
Till mid-afternoon
Pretty sure for certain
My boss is wondering why me he hired
On the job less than a week
And already on the verge of being fired
Forgot to pay my phone bill
So I couldn't give him a call
Seems the only thing I do right
Is doing wrong
Too cheap to buy flowers
So I pick them out in left field
Right next to the honey patch
With bees munching their meals
Brought them home to my girlfriend
Who proceeded to sneeze and cough
With a case of hay fever
This didn't go over as well as I thought
Her sneezing also interrupted
The bees in the bunch
Sticking their heads out from
The middle of lunch
That's when Miss Noisy
Was repeatedly stung
Seems the only thing I do right
Is doing wrong
Needing to withdraw my measly savings
I head down to the bank
Step inside and holler HOLD UP
As I was running late
All the tellers they screamed
And pointed accusingly at me
As I stood there in the middle
Of all the melee
The cops roughed me and cuffed me
And took me to jail
With no boss and no girlfriend
To pay on my bail
Now here I sit in the slammer
With no idea of how long
Seems the only thing I do right
Is doing wrong