Long Alienation Poems
Long Alienation Poems. Below are the most popular long Alienation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Alienation poems by poem length and keyword.
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A network of cherished kinships allied
forged, and linkedin analogous
to union of groom and bride
thru electronic bonds engender intrigue,
nonetheless unconditionally accept,
no matter I chide
self, and reference mine existence
as if...this mortal already died
now more appreciative than ever,
cuz younger days witnessed
peers that did elide
me accompanied with relentless
teasing, snubbing, roasting
akin tubby kindled over a fireside,
thus...solitude shadowed me as sole guide
peopled with books
to escape and hide
from so called "real"
webbed world, yet inside
this former grievous
lad through alienation,
emasculation, and isolation no joyride
valuing myself less than a pawn on
chessboard of life
envying extrovert as kingside
station depriving, insulating, and
ostracizing yours truly belied
to Matthew Scott Harris
marginally functioning, and denied
him camaraderie, dating, enjoying
female friendships due
to lack of confidence and pride
and at the cusp of
pubescence...a slow descending ride
into the hungry (anorexic)
maws of suicide,
which ideations hammer psyche,
now aghast how I tried
(without success) to disappear sundering
mine complex edifice
into the wide
abyss of nothingness, hence to treasure
those electronic connections,
perhaps...totally no more'n four score
(and seven years ago)
all told of unbeknown village people
comprising worthy chums,
sans human league roar
ring (okay pardon the hyperbole),
but letting this foo fighter explore
a greater range of interpersonal
(no matter virtual), but each
unnamed cyber buddy worth more
than simple rhyming galore
words express, some
or all those who sprung
from Earth, wind and fire,
viz cosmic toreador
this poet would their
physical presence adore,
who realizes genuine experienced love
second best option
communicated thru the Internet...bonjour,
hence please accept at the least
(even thee lovely cousins,
daughters, sister Shari por favor,
a hug emanating from within mine
integrated central processing unit core!
Feeling exhausted
by addiction to integrity.
But, prefer this sad loved addict
to being self-indicted
for lack of win/win integrity;
total investment
in lose/lose nihilistic
fascistic disintegrity,
disintegration.
Addiction to dicked down
synergetic passion
seems a healthier prospect
than apartheid alienation,
chaotic degeneration
Rather than this more positive addiction
to EarthTribe's organic integrity,
resonant DNA harmony,
cooperative polyvagal resilience,
synergetic neuro-systemic balance
EarthMothers
at least temporarily feel
an arduously merciful master
of sensory
musical
physical
relentless mental health care
wealth cooperative
co-investing extensions eco-out,
intentions ego-in
Emerging through Left embodied pleasure's
peaceful Right mind paradise
religious promise
re-connecting polycultural family
DNA extensions,
nerved mindbody co-passions,
negatively anxious
and positively anticipating
and curiously in-between received
panentheistic hypotheses
Of global paradigmatic history
ZeroSum preemptive
pre-emptying evolutionary Left/Right bicameral theory
regeneratively embedded
in His/Her
Nature/Spirit
Out/In
1/0 sacred indigenous NonZero
Full/Empty
Integral Holonic Soul
Grows sadly incomplete
synergetic EarthTribal co-addiction
to feeding and watering personal/global
ego/eco-systemic
bilaterally co-empathic
sad loss inside/glad gain outside
love addiction
co-arising narratives.
I crossed the Mediterranean like those millions.
I am still held captive in their nightmares.
Some say I originate from a continent
that resembles an open-air dump.
I build myself within the concentration camps
that the West has exploited since the slave trade.
They hate my Africanity
but they are addicted to the riches of my ancestors' soil.
I fed on the trash cans of misery
so as not to prostitute myself on Western sidewalks.
These heirs of slave traders bombard Africa
in the name of democracy, human rights,
and Abrahamic obediences.
I am persecuted on every continent,
always a suspect to these insatiable cannibals.
I did not come to assimilate or integrate:
I have already been colonized, Frenchified, and Christianized.
If you do not love me, do not be a hypocrite to my face.
I will make you taste the horrors of Négritude
that I have carried for millennia.
I no longer prostrate myself before their God,
their saints, or their prophets.
I do not believe in their humanism
nor in their universalism.
I fight the negrophobia of imperialism every day.
They call me a parasite,
as if the centuries-old savage looting of Africa
were a mere utopia.
My people were trapped in the dungeons
of their Code Noir.
Before criticizing these scavengers,
I attended the school of the Republic
of the slave-trading Enlightenment.
I gleaned the diplomas of their alienation.
I will never be ashamed of being a pagan Sub-Saharan
who has read the Bible, the Quran, and the Torah.
I will never trust these preachers of hate
who sing the praises of liberty,
equality, and fraternity
over oceans of innocent blood.
My people are dehumanized
because they are still disunited.
I see imposters
desecrating Pan-Africanism
the moment they are tied
to Western pauperization.
I will never respect the borders
born from the balkanization
of the cradle of humanity.
My allegiance goes to Africa and not to the colonial outposts
of the Eldest Daughter of the Church.
I think of Africa every day
since I left that continent.
I wish for the revolutionary energy of the Sahel
To spread across all of Africa.
I dream that all the banana republics
of Françafrique
Transform into sanctuaries
of Pan-Africanism.
You dragged me down to your level with your heartless judgment...love didn't arrive at my doorstep
You are the predator and I’m the victim
You are the executioner and I’m the man, tied up to the chair
GET A GRIP....
SIP...satisfy your taste buds with happiness....and dip dip dip
Into the river
R I V E R
Disappear, fear that clothes me
Reappear, fearlessness that suffocates thee
Your river of deceit leaks out… now, I can clearly see
Your true colors…you resurrected radiance in the eyes of millions…and you allowed me to escalate with ecstatic eagerness and enjoyment, much like a satisfied, well-watered tree…nurtured by sunlit glee
I never thought that this all could be
You push me to become like all felons
Possibly, doubt slipped into my mind and traded me with prosperity in the hands of tragedy
Nothing can harm us...
We're on the same bus
You killed my trust and hope…and fed your twisted honesty
Our bittersweet chorus of lies and miseries sings its tune of tainted lullabies
Move on once again we must…or we’ll be targeted by calamity
I know you hear me, but you ignored my silent cries…oh darling, how the time flies…
Oh please, darling angel, fix me, for I am a wrecked-up bicycle – never wave your
Misery-laced goodbyes…cut it out before it devours us with utter distress!
For you, I am now saddened and try to untie myself from this mess…
As my love and hope for you slowly but surely dies,
Sift out the vile lies and don’t ask your why’s
I still hear your wistful cries
You relied on the Lord of the Flies
And you engrossed him…now, he draws near to you because you enchanted him with your miraculous powers…I was spell-bound and gravity-bound in the chambers of alienation while you were showing off your capacities…I thought it cool!
You say it’s a natural gift that’s used as a priceless, grand tool…but, I take you as a fool!
In a world where reason becomes a cry lost in the wind,
we are born poor, binding thought with chains of iron,
like prisoners walking their shadows through concrete mazes,
where normality is a mask hiding subtle alienation,
a dance of absurdity that slowly, yet surely, erodes us,
in a silent waltz with our own illusions,
in a glass city that reflects only appearances.
Who are we, those lost in society’s imposed slumber,
sleeping souls, wandering through others' dreams,
with eyes wide open, yet blind to the truth,
for we were told normality is safety,
and safety, a paper world, tearing at the slightest breeze,
while we, puppets moved by invisible strings,
dance to the music of despair, in a ball of collective madness.
But, is madness only ruin, or can it be a window?
A window to the blue sky of freedom,
where dreams take flight, kneeling fear,
where the soul finds the courage to awaken,
to break the chains that keep it prisoner in daily routine,
and to be reborn from its own ashes,
like a Phoenix embracing fire and flight.
Thus, in the silence of the night, when thoughts roll like waves,
seek your freedom in the dance of madness,
where the mind breaks free from constraints,
and the heart learns its true melody,
for perhaps, madness is but a journey,
a journey to oneself, to the pure essence of being,
where the soul finds peace and light,
in a world that seems mad, but perhaps, just perhaps,
is only a dream, from which we will awaken someday.
You were one of the first of a very few
to welcome me here when I first joined Poetry Soup
and although I haven't really kept in touch
you're not alone, I rarely stay in touch with anyone much.
It has no reflection on you or on any of them.
I could never have asked for a more supportive and giving friend
than you, my dear friend Carolyn.
All I can say is that if I've ever offended you in any way, I do have an explanation.
It's the price you pay when you befriend someone who is prone to self alienation,
so I would hope that you not take my absence personally.
You're A Great Friend And You'll Always Mean Ever So Very Much To Me.
Dedicated to Carolyn Devonshire
With My Very Best Wishes Always
The singer looks at the now empty stage
His voice guarded deep in his warm throat
Shielded by a high neck shirt he wore
Singing with passion from down within
Rehearsing day and night until it’s right
Blended rhythms and notes run the scales
Clinging in smoky night clubs like a shadow
Getting your pay with crumbled dollar bills
Go from gig to gig if it makes you whole
Your songs will make them dance and spin
Like a magic spell being cast far and wide
Allow your words to heal wounds and scars
And when you have earned your keep
Collect the spoils from your conquest sweet
Gobbled champagne and fancy caviars
And your heart beats crashed musical chart
Find the singer who was once loved
The brilliant heart that once lived in joy
Consider yourself a singer without a heart
Who has traded his soul from the start
As it ends the conquest will lose its spark
Come to your senses and stop this slide
You may be witted and sharp as a tack
Don’t get eluded and slip—stay on track
Comments: This is a narrative dialogue poem. It sets the stage one may
probably find in a conflicting situation. It develops into a complication, reaches a
crisis then falls into a resolution. It displays connections, alienation,
disconnections, and a turning point where a change takes place between a
protagonist and antagonist. The ending brings about a resolution after a
dramatic point has been reached. Give it a try one day, and I will give it a review
for you. It must be very interesting and relates to real life.
I ran than jumped high
into the upper atmosphere
like a young frisky
buck naked and bare
no matter weight of world
and personal woes oppressive,
yours truly shrugged,
(she loves you yea... yea... yea...
think Atlas) "faking" without care
free, able, ready, and
willing to dare
daubing metrical feet into stream
of consciousness (think)
metaphorical earthenware
placid figurative smooth as glassware
reflecting mine mien
mean disheveled hare
reed state of body,
mind and spirit long
acclimated, accompanied,
and accustomed
with mental, physical,
and spiritual malfunctions
ever since birth,
(or even in utero), where
biological mutations did interfere
easily availing self
as token "scapegoat
school kids did taunt and jeer
futilely screeching nonetheless
targeted and doomed killdeer
lamely seeking safety, albeit laughable
pencil necked geek longhair
donned as outdated "hippie"
lame excuse for cheesy mouseketeer
every day of younglife (mine) wanted
me "mommy dearest" near,
cuz yours truly
felt like kin outlier
one lonely human
being within alienation
forever seeking salvation
courtesy wing and prayer
ill fitting analogous to round hole
raised to accept unconventional
credo, gospel (according
to Matthew) mores as quare
figurative peg thus revere
ring boyhood, because
growing up scare
re: especially as
undersized withdrawn tear
huff eyed little lad.
SILVERWARE
Somewhere on Long Island,
J____ C_______ is missing a knife…
K__ brought it with him
And left it in the truck
When we were working together.
J____ C_______!
The last person bold enough,
To extend the hand of friendship to K__,
Who drinks and drugs,
And now, he is homeless
The endless patterns of alienation reach in,
As I remember all my friends.
Some, who have gone on into darkness,
And some, who have just… gone on…
This thin spoon (it always bends, when I wash it)
Is from sweet Angela.
Old as magic,
And had music straight through her,
Hands clapping, feet tapping,
She was up and dancing,
The minute the music started,
Whatever music it was!
She is gone, now.
After living some years with a stroke,
She developed wings one day
And U__ let her fly!
(It was time to say good-bye!)
And then, there was Guy!
No silverware for him, but a sword!
He called me up one day,
After we had stayed in his trailer.
“Say, brother! I found a sword in the corner, is that yours?”
No, it wasn’t and I said so.
“Well, do you suppose it would be okay,
If I took that sword up for some prayers,
To slay the demons with?”
And I told him it would be all right,
After all, he was an old knight!
Brave Guy, who was always there,
At the front of the lines for the fight.
And Gentle Guy, who went around neighborhoods,
Planting flowers for the people.
“Plug ‘em in, to God,”
He said, with a curt nod.
As if I had known, that was his intent.
Guy, who had survived World War II,
And an injury to the head
On an aircraft carrier.
Guy, whose wife, the love of his life,
Had left him, and broken him.
Guy-Of-The-Sword, who survived all that,
Only to be felled by an overdose of Ephedra Tea.
Four states away,
I heard him dying
And I called out to God
(Have I ever told anyone this?)
…But it was too late…
Too late… how could I call to God, too late
To save my friend?
But the Will of God prevails, does it not?
And we all have our Time –
“A Time to Live, and a Time to Die”
And… speaking of Time,
I have been standing here at the sink,
For too long,
With suds dripping from my fingers,
And all…
Because…
Of a knife…
'Play back that sound',she explained with bitterness,
'What's wrong?',I questioned,
I found out that she was severally harrassed at a conference,
"He won't be entertained by any room with his proposal",as she envisioned,
Just sitting on the bed,I jinggled overtone,
Did questioned me for such unpleasant tone,
But my answer comes unfold,
Making her look silly,I broke into laughter,
'So you're happy of yourself not being caring',
she kept on exclaiming my name aswell,
"......alright,please let me know frankly for now if I'm not your class girl,
"After all,I can guess you've gotten a new lover in there",
On aboard,I felt pictures of funny and amusing statement as she said,
Being the focal point,I replied as such to her,
"Kindly make me proud beautiful lady as the day goes by,
...only on the goal of accepting those proposals from that beloved guy" ,
'Thanks to God we're no more as lovers',that was her voice,
"....be in search of me never from anyone now onwards",
she added such a subtle context,
Ever since we met as friends was there a moment I said to her about a precept,
"My love for you is of God's unconditional love,
Don't set on sexual segregation",
Thoughtfully,diligence wasn't tactfully highlighted by her intention,
Beneath the bowl's cover,she grabbed that portion as merely,
In as much as she went ahead throwing jabs at me,
A vital integration against her module of thinking set in,
But her promiscuous attitude never scored her sence of dignity,
Proving my kind,made her go bananas,
"Fool,stupid guy......you!"
Vomited out all these to me with contempt,
Preventing alienation and imperialism,
I gave her a dose of self repent,
'Don't be as a Muppet organism',
Adding this tuned her into a groaning lion,
As time went on from the tick of grumble,
Shame unto you dearly,
....huuuu...our love is inseperable',
she said with densely,
Putting on a tortured garment,
I became less feisty before a firmament,
Grooving within this scope,
she spotted my vibes but never killed a coach,
It was all a dream!