Long Angle Poems
Long Angle Poems. Below are the most popular long Angle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Angle poems by poem length and keyword.
tell it slant~
the world can’t bear the full blaze
of truth all at once.
So we angle it,
tilt it like a mirror catching dusk,
let it shimmer sideways
through the mind.
We speak in glints,
in half-lit metaphors,
in stories that circle the heart
instead of striking it head-on.
Not to hide~
but to reveal
what only soft light can show.
Because some truths
arrive like lightning,
too bright for the naked soul.
But slanted,
they become lanterns~
guiding, not blinding,
warming, not burning.
So we tell it slant,
the way moonlight tells the shape of things,
the way wind tells the shape of trees,
the way love tells the shape of a life~
not directly,
but unmistakably.
We go through life dealing with Pain
inside yet we paint a Picture to a
public figure of a Head raised high.
Emotional torture and Thunderous
cries from a screaming Heart
echoing deep down inside.
You get on your knees to clasp your
hands and pray to pour out your
mind asking to take the pain away.
Heartache comes in many different
shapes at unknown levels from any
angle words can not convey.
You fight Internal Battles everyday of
your life armed with only your whit
and your pride to defeat those
Demons that lurk inside.
You take a deep breath and release
an Earth trembling yell telling your
inner Demons and others that have
hurt you GO BACK TO HELL , INSIDE
OF MY HEART AND INSIDE OF MY
MIND YOU'LL HAVE NO PLACE TO
DWELL ! ™©
The Moral of this Poem is never let
anything or anyone for that matter
get the best of you in any shape,
way, or form. Above all never let
these entities get the satisfaction of
your tears.
I wrote this years ago when my daughter was struggling with 5 deaths in 1 year.
She was also dealing with bi-polar and was only 9 or 10 years old then.
Baby Girl...........These years have been so tough, I think back.
You ever wonder why people choose to do the things they do?
You of all people, do know the pain and heartache of missing someone who isn`t here anymore.
But what you fail to realize is that someone doesn't have to die to miss them.
I miss the loving, caring little girl.
The happy, hopeful child, that smiled at the littlest things.
And made me smile at some of the most unexpected, wonderful things.
I miss my daughter.
The loving, caring, helpful, unselfish, wonderful daughter.
But through it all, you are still my beautiful daughter.
Whatever is going on within you, has changed you.
And to me that is ugly.
It's scary, it's sad, it hurts me to see this.
I can't understand this, and I don`t think you can either.
I have tried to help you, to protect you.
To let you figure things on your own.
I'be tried to get you other help.
I'be tried from every angle I can think of.
It hurts me that I can't help you, or protect you, or figure things out.
All I want to do is Love you, protect you, hold you, keep you safe.
Keep you from someone hurting you.
Keep you from hurting yourself in any way.
I want you to be happy, healthy, hopeful.
To have good things, to do good things, to pass on to good things.
I Love you my daughter.
Someday you will figure out just how much.
Form:
That angel is me
I leave; Check on you
cuss - help out
then come back.
that's my conscientiousness
angle of concern
flying over your mind.
Drift,catching your thoughts.
That angel is me
leaving you alone
with yourself (good company)
Accidentally,nothing happens.
We were meant to make mistakes.
So breathe while you still can.
Always ONE down and
two to go when it comes to killing
those demons...
There will always be a human Angel
Assigned to guard your feelings.
So breath while you still can.
That angel for a few of you is me.!
If you feel me then say "I Do".
I will be back in a few...
leaving my flesh again -
flying on a wavelength
leaping hither and thither...
seeking the consciousness
of like minds.
This Angel does not
wrestle with man nor
time.....Even with the ones
to whom I've been assigned.
Oh, I Am the angel who serves
love in my writes - Whom backs
up the love with action not talk.
Who knows when to fly
with you, or when to walk.
So breathe, breathe deeply
while you still can.
© Vicki Acquah
Keep Me... Please
I want you to stay beside me with all that you are, all you were and will ever be,
I know I have said this before, perhaps so many times the words have lost their weight,
but now I say it with whatever is left of me after all that left and never returned,
I am not asking for everything, I don't deserve everything, just something that still smells like you.
I have always believed in you in ways I don't even believe in myself on my hardest days,
not once did doubt ever touch your name inside me, not even in my weakest moments,
my life was simple before, empty, but peaceful in its emptiness like a field without echo,
I didn't know I was already lost inside you before I even knew I was searching for myself.
you were carrying pieces of me I didn't even know were missing or that I was looking for,
my identity, my reality, my truth were resting inside you like they had always been home,
as if I had belonged to that place within you long before I arrived and recognized it,
and look at me smiling while writing this, because everything I am now was born in your hands.
you didn't just love me, you created me, you gave shape to something that didn't know it existed,
you discovered a version of me I was wandering through myself searching for without any map,
everything I am now is yours, it was always yours, yours to keep or leave or break apart,
yours to walk away from when you no longer need it, yours even when I am nothing anymore.
and if I ever become too heavy or perhaps too empty and my presence begins to feel like a burden,
don't hold me by force, don't oblige yourself, just hide me somewhere in you where no one else looks,
give me a small room in your heart, I am not much, I was never too much for anyone to carry,
I will stay there quietly like a memory that aches when remembered but is too precious to be erased.
I will not ask for your time, I will not ask for your touch, I only ask to be allowed to exist somewhere,
anywhere within you, any corner, any forgotten angle where I can remain without taking too much space,
because even when I am not in your arms I am still yours in every single breath that I take,
and the walls of this invisible castle keep growing around your name that will never cease to be sacred.
*keep me... please.*
If you want your relationship with God to renew,
Then June Down Under is a good time to look up at night
among the stars to view
God's Eyes (mata ariki) upon you,
Or if you change the angle of your View,
You can see Little angel eyes (mata riki) too,
As a new year he brings with many treats for you,
From a harvest he has blessed to be in fine hue.
If you look through the mists of time for a view,
Matariki might change appearance for you,
And whaea (Mother), surrounded by her six daughters,
Tupu-a-nuku - to remind us we have our own special time.
Tupu-a-rangi - to remind us to share our gifts with others.
Waipunarangi - to show kindness will come back to you.
Waiti and Waita (twins) - to join in and support each other.
Urangi - to remind us, a good attitude is always key to success,
Will be what comes into view for you.
No matter which cloak Matariki wears for you to view,
You can be sure Wisdom will be Matariki's gift to you
In June, a good time to renew,
And give relationships a brighter hue.
a jolly darling right angle went straight out of the lateral box
fed up with grinding a living on the periphery of pure reason
he thought back to his square roots and longed for a change
his strict Dad Monty Pythagoras had been rather level headed
had equated logic premises and conclusions with happiness
a refined man steeped in knowledge in search for great virtue
his Mom Pi however never lived up the promise of her name
strayed from her calculated path of predetermined precision
abandoned caution and boredom and soaked in a bubbly bath
Archimedes my **** I can’t throw the baby out of the water
had a fling with Plato in his cave and settled for the kitchen
made the best strawberry crumble from recipes of her aunt
Little Monty Pi enjoyed whipped cream and emotion much more
than obedience and hypothenuses and left mere equations behind
licked off the whisk and dreamed of the perfect circle for good
vanilla emotions danced with sweet sugar candy mountains as
his feelings submerged into a fantasy world coated in cinnamon
he was warned that he might have eggy intuitions on his face
for shells would easily crack and ovations weren’t perfectly round
but his world was not flat anymore and he wished for perspectives
of a different kind than sitting in the lost corner at ninety degrees
if you can stand the heat you should remain in the bakehouse
savour cookies or condensed milk tarts for such exquisite cuisine
beats mere cognition and the dour fragrance of stale rationale
Mum chuckled while Dad despaired and took out his slide rule
proposed that life was no honey pot and cooking was effluvium
misleading and not up to the fine task of consequential virtues
but like most kids he would only listen to what he wanted to hear
put Nirvana on the headphones and closed his mind to objections
eventually he learnt that life was really a giant rigged rollercoaster
maybe the strawberries were laced with psychedelic truth serum
or the icing on the gateau was to abandon forethought and planning
most of all that he was neither circle nor angle and just needed to be
30th August 2020
From dot number one I draw a line
To dot number two with a pencil fine,
Then on to three, off to the right
Back to dot four, a curious sight,
Number five points me in a sharp angle
Then up to number six without a tangle,
Dot number seven turns to the left
I am drawn to eight by fingers deft,
Number nine was not off too far
From number ten to create a star!
I sharpen my pencil before I delve
Into number eleven to number twelve,
With a zig and a zag to thirteen, fourteen
Black dots form a shape yet to be seen,
A puzzling mystery with fun begot
On to fifteen, sixteen, I'll give it a shot,
Just what would emerge as I drew
Seventeen, eighteen, I wish I knew,
Dot number nineteen connected without fail
To twenty, to give my star it's shining tail!
I used to sit on my Nan’s knee; she ran her fingers through my hair
She told me all the stories of when she thought life was still fair
Many a time just sitting there listening to her stories told with mirth
I wouldn’t have swapped it for anything; there was nothing of equal worth.
Stories of my granddad, my mum, aunts and uncles too
Stories of the bombs landing, and all of them quite true.
To this day her old house, the wall tilts at an odd angle
When a bomb landed there, it blasted the streets only mangle*
There was always so many of us and not enough knees to go around
But I always managed to get one whenever we went round.
We were usually on the run, the rent man after money
Dad had got it to a fine art. Just booze no bread and honey
My Nan one did her anger flew, she struck him with a pan
I think it might have done him good; he started to become a man.
Those days now just a memory, but such wonderful though hard times.
No food no home no money but it was really great sometimes
A fondness there is for thing long past, whether good times or the bad
A time to remember the best of it, to get though it we should be glad
I still sit and ponder and feel her fingers through my hair
I’ll never say goodbye to my Nan, even though she isn’t there.
© 23/11/2012
*
Mangle: Rollers to squeeze water form the washing.
In those days the whole street used to share a mangle the owner would be the wealthiest in the road.
I reed-member the time when
we were down ; we were suspended by
the promoter in the South Side League
this guy owned both a Hockey teaam, a Roller Derby Team
and he was a Wrestling Promoter.
I got suspended and couldn't
get a job due to him owning every team or company in the area.
I gotta call from "Begging Idiouce" Beazel Grantchorea Promoter in the Provdence area.
He had The Territorial Wrestling Organization. The Territories Championship
was an equvlant of the Worlds title.
The guy who held the title
was a well built athlete, a wrestling talent he was a draw on all fronts
he could really, really out wrest most guys in pro wrestling.
People loved this guy. I got a bout with him.
I beat him in 12 minutes. The crowd went completly silent and began booing. I knew what was going on
and began a high taling manuver to get out of the areana. I snached the title and headed to the dressing room: I heard an giantic BOO!
I took my check and got into the limo and left the building.
Those hockey jerks
had lead the boo's
they were in the audience,
I vowed to get them, I needed to find a partner.
I stayed away from the arena, until I could get someone to watch out for my interest. I called: Rockstar's and Crooners trying to get one of there bodyguards to
and mangement to look out for my interest. Those Hockey Jerks had us out numbered but I knew that a musicail angle could get over here. No one beleived me I didn't mind the boo's but I'm still human you know. I got "Crooner" Hambone Notatez to be my manger! and Dizzy Dillpepper
to be my tagteam partner. "Dizzy" coould really wrestle, and could out wrest guy's better then him. He could get a win outta a lossing situation. I liked that quality. That night in the Bronx we wanted to wrestle: but the jerks wanted to brawl we, gave the croowd a great show!