Long Anodyne Poems
Long Anodyne Poems. Below are the most popular long Anodyne by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Anodyne poems by poem length and keyword.
The end of the year.
The pope is dead, no, not him, but the old one
who liked wearing red hats
There he was, driving his VW around the alps
advancing slowly through the clerical ranks
and suddenly, he was a pope.
Many things happen at the end of this year
a famous Haute Culture woman died a dame
Surely, she must have been surprised so much
fame unasked for.
Don’t mention the war!
A low-ranking officer in a secret service end
up a leader of a big country, powerful
like a dictator going to war against windmills.
Not his plan when as a spy walking the night
in Amsterdam.
A very aged man becomes the president
of the USA, going through the political ranks
showing us that mediocrity always pays
and lies win in the end.
Tonight, millions of people will fill the streets
watching fireworks lit up the night sky
Anodyne, you say, I’m not so sure if in doubt
ask the people of Ukraine
So, hold tight let the new year commence
wishing a happy birthday to the unborn year.
Written: February 05, 2024
_____________________________________________
On twilit roads as dusk falls,
from rivers to towers and walls,
when lilting rhythms call,
a gleaming steed sailed.
on pearl-grey pinions, and held,
as the aroma of willow draws.
tumble toward the ground.
through warm beams.
and anodyne smell.
Under the mast of a rusting ship,
over a dazzling web of water and light,
I'm excited to charter out of the bay,
In a silver chariot,
on chrysolite mirrors and carried,
where cinnabar vapor entices,
float gently to the ground,
with cheerful smiles,
and sensual breath,
bright polish—sun fell,
busters grab and break boards.
And tempests rumble and thunder,
In an iron chariot, ferried,
on clods of lava, and carried,
where cinnabar vapor beguiles,
swinging unpretentious,
with savage smiles,
and smoldering breath.
Written: September 9, 2025, for contest sponsored by: Rob Carmack
Quote: "Lovers have heartaches that can't be cured by drugs or sleep, or games, but only by seeing their beloved" By Rumi
**********
In the garland of ailments, we sip nepenthe,
anodyne tinctures in elegant flasks—
murmurous promises, beauteous masks,
each fard a façade, each pill a palimpsest
of pain rewritten in mellifluous ink.
Pneumology sings in stertorous sighs,
dyspnea dances under the aegis of relief.
We stroll through the lanes of this lush haven.
The breathtaking tablets gaze into bliss.
What trendy medicine pills and supplies
Supply human beings with many ways to support?
I share on the matter of preventing slurs.
The breakdown of moiety and the rise of risk.
For even the most ductile clay
may crumble in the quagmire of misuse.
In the seraglio of spurious bliss,
the simple and the iconoclast alike
grasp the absurdity of escape.
Acherontic powders, hexed and hissing,
wafture through the penumbra of parties,
where flapdoodle masquerades as rapture.
fear grips the veins—
a jussive urge, impetuous and egregious.
We extemporize joy, inhale incarnadine dusk,
and resile from reason with pertinacity.
turbulent dawns, wan and woebegone,
usher in ischemia’s kiss,
a paucity of comeliness,
a summary of sorrow.
The lush becomes lurid,
the sumptuous turns stygian.
Even the most miraculous odyssey
may cease in necrotic silence.
Meliorism in time to come
Yet still, amid the desiccation,
a scintilla of optimism coruscates.
The riparian soul, lithe and lit with Love,
may manipulate a raw moiety of meaning.
Through the shield of empathy,
the one who heals
may reclaim the palimpsest of self.
Not all who inhale are lost—
Some merely seek the empyrean
through alternate doors.
Let us not belittle
the addict, the patient, the seeker.
Each belongs to a consanguineous ilk
of yearning, of zoetic ache.
So let us offer not just palliation,
but propinquity,
not just summary judgment,
but the sacred burnished balm
of understanding.
Let Love be the panacea,
let compassion be the coruscation
that flickers in the penumbra
of every pharmacological night.
it is often said, love is blue
a poor anodyne for crushed hearts
pity them dearly that after years
they fail to understand
the mirror holds the cynosure
they truly adore
once miraculous, now commonplace
magic surrendered to logic
fails the child within
the alchemy enclosed is dead
an abandoned playground
even more tragic is the bewitchment
was really never there
the Janus exposed in time
the sad tale of the birth
and transition to decay
those highway markers
where tragedy found a conclusion
when dreams have failed to meld
the off-ramps become the easier pursuit
and as such we humans are
lose or draw begin once more
form new dreams and nurture
the decay within
the reality of the chimera desired
lives where horses are riderless
the beggars have all perished
in a self-induced famine
where the walking dead
polish their romance
OKC 5/22
Love so pure, so holy, earthly and divinely bound
Sweet radiance of ecstatic flow of bliss in thee I found
Drowned in the larvishing citadel of thy immortal love
As in the parlance of a mighty ocean in a torrential move
Love so perfect, love so genuine
(Finding thee was not easy at all)
Love I longed to have from my juvenile
Melodious love radiantly shining bright
As the exceptional effulgence of the moon light
My love for now, my precious love for eternity
My fervent solemn love bounded by purity and unity
Defending thee a clarion call to be heeded unwittingly
As my love is bound to you ever sure and permanently
Unwavering in the presence of transient uncertainty
Ever flowing in harmonious holiness and sanctity
Sweet love, anodyne love, love sapid and innocuous
Wetting thy succulent lips a deed that constantly binds us
In the moment of momentary immortality
As the transitory passage of every mortality
I shalt whisper thy tender love unequivocally
To great pilgrims of love who reign eternally
Wordless worries wander wearily working wayward,
Towards thoughts transgressing truth’s textured tide.
As always acknowledging agnosticism’s appeal,
Essence easily evaporates, exeunt Emile.
Very virtuous violent vowels vociferously validate,
Sanctimonious sessions some subtly sacrosanct.
Is it in incrementally immense ingenious imaginations,
Or ontology’s omniscience overcoming oceanic oratory?
Roughly rallying rage’s recessive righteousness,
Quickly quartered queens quietly quiver qualities quoi.
Under unctuous undeniably Umbrian utterances,
An astute and acute awareness as always arose.
Placing plausibly proverbial prevaricating predications,
Many morose morally myopic manly mighty men,
Eulogize everlasting ephemerally entertaining evocations.
Insinuating incredible implications, insomnia initiates,
Notably nullifying notoriously negligible nihilistic necessities.
Lies lay low, linking lofty linguistic lessons like laws,
Of optional opportunities oscillating on occult overtures
Until underlying unctions unify ubiquitous unknowns.
Joyless Joseph’s joyful Joy just jumped, just jumped!
Killing killjoy knuckle kosher korma koranic krap.
And announce another anonymous anodyne appointment?
(Empiricism’s emphatic emission, enter erotic Eloise).
Having Heidegger helps, hope’s homunculi hunting human.
Get gone ginger guesses, go grope Ginger’s grapes!
Immaculately ironic inquisitions instigate immediate impositions.
Once onto opaque ominous orbs, obey Oracles open orders.
Framing funny fractions, flaming far flung frivolous fictions,
Death defies dollar damnations, deliciously done devaluations.
Usually uncle umpire understands useful underlying ululations,
Also affirming apples avuncular altruistic assumptions.
Creeds crave caves, charms calm cause, come conquerors,
Be belligerently bad, betray birth’s beginning, balance budgets.
Entreating entirely empty, emphatically elusive, existential entelechy,
Is, importantly, incommensurably idiotic, inexplicably impractical indeed.
Written: January 30, 2024
_______________________________________
Amidst the darkness,
a tunic of silence looms high
mentioned in a muttered manner
spying via disguised apertures
rooting remorse-ridden radiance
Upon a glimmering
A blue-toned backdrop
under a celestial canopy
with mesmerizing shimmer
A stillness wraps the earth
entangled in unfathomable peace.
An opus devoted to stillness
saturates this space
winter wonderland
breathing beauty blue
anodyne snowy utopia.
Winter dreary nights
prolonged and chilly,
glows with a suave weave
mesmerizing gray foliage
The exquisite grace
unparalleled in magnitude,
with bright sunrays bouncing off,
a pure, lovely layer of snow
Embrace a serene moment
where harmony rules supreme,
an enormous sensation of delight
as the euphoria wears off
The light was shimmering
In an icy realm devoid of any conflict,
But the bitter northern winter
Winds are as sharp as knives.
Suddenly, that time ended
As it slowly slips away,
A gift of blissfulness
remains in an unspoken way
akin to an infant sleeping
with calmness all around,
A place where time stood still
and tranquility was found
Sunlight and shadows
disappear, for it is meant to be,
In the seasons, finding hope
and the spirit soars free.
We're both ugly and gorgeous
We can love, but we may also hate
We breached the rules while playing
I wonder what our fate will be
Multifaceted, we love and detest
elegance and vulgarity
Healing our emotions requires action
and understand our ability to shift,
Support me in spreading love and peace
Inspire beauty in whatever we do,
We can accomplish this together
But the future is unknowable,
A single idea could alter the world,
I hope it's an idea that you have
A remedy for shattered emotions,
Another view I've been having
I believe there is promise,
Most people grasp the basics
Even my silly pride may leave a mark
I might be known for it in the future
Reminding others of the concept
I could also join them
Who is initiating this act?
Be involved in the entity
Simply by accepting love
When we realize we need peace,
That alone may be sufficient
We recall several eponyms,
One thing must be remembered,
This beauty is our goal.
Over ugly, we must convey beauty.
Life is not always filled with cloying contentment.
There are taunting trials and things I'd rather not do.
Those tedious tasks that steal my smiles and my time,
but not the joy of life's most endearing moments
found within the confines of my happy home.
It's impossible to leave all my worries outside,
nor can I hide from them each time I enter through
the front door, but my home seems to cradle me
inside its welcoming walls. Each room comforts me
with familiarity, offering safety and solace from storms
of both the physical and emotional kind.
I am at peace in the serenity I find surrounding me,
even when I hear voices in another room, I know they
are my loved ones. My family's laughter assures me
that all is right in my world. There may be furniture
that needs dusting, or floors that have been scuffed,
but memories made in these haven halls are treasured.
Conflicts and controversies, struggles and squabbles
taking place in the world remain outside my refuge.
When my workday is done, I seek my family hearth,
the warmth within its sheltering roof, making it the safe
stronghold that I claim as my citadel. Trepidations
drift away when I walk into my garden and find seclusion
waiting there for me. I find peace and consummate
placidity in the sound of the koi pond's waterfall.
There are no horns blasting with impatience, only a bed of
colorful impatiens blooming in profusion beneath the
sweet scent of white magnolia blooms that soothe
my weary mind, blocking out stress and anxiousness.
I feel as if I'm in an innocuous world inside my fortress gate.
Protected from the chaotic cacophony of worldly woes.
Standing at an open window as night falls, I enjoy the song
of a nightingale as a myriad of stars surround a full moon.
At the end of the day, these moments are appreciated
for the assuasive effects that I need in my life.
This is the anodyne I seek. This is my home.
Activate, O anodyne.
Free me from the past.
Thought she was a friend of mine?
Hempen rope, thy mast.
Welling up inside you, thus:
Hell, thy fires surround.
Heaven, how I hate! Minus:
All above the ground!
Pain, you spring eternal.
Contentment, you're a drug.
Commands of the kernel?
Diurnal life, zwangzug.
If you dwell in daylight:
The sight of you will tempt.
Fate, thy bite! Fine fight or flight!
Poison, just pre-empt!
Predator, thy fairest face!
Golden is such grace!
O coyote, choose the chase!
Decency displace!
Wind, thy salmon-running ways!
Mate within the maze?
How indeed, sirs, nerves a-frays!
Priceless how it pays!
Space, open a portal.
I wish away to fly.
Demons of the void, stay full?
Anyhow, we try.
Singularities, deep freeze?
Well, we're off our knees.
All day long we're scratching fleas?
Saying please? At ease...
Written: June 1st 2024, For Unseeking Seeker Contest
"here I am in human form
but it was not always quite so
earth is not the only planet I’ve been to
through past life regressions I definitely know"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In ethereal glow of our final seconds on Earth.
Within a span, souls enisling in an isthmus berth.
As metamorphosed bees, clad in airy wings, soar
Ebbing to a cosmic abode of glow, for ego lore.
Embrace bequeath in gestalt of Earth shell.
Or is life devoid of anguish and pain in hell?
Will we be protean for reincarnation with blood?
Shifting, fully booming, owing to anodyne stud.
We shall soon reminisce days on remote sand.
Ethereal pathways that follow a celestial hand.
Eyeing raw cosmic shape sycophant eternity.
Then clung to destiny with my slight dexterity.
Our exhausted organism is narcissism-driven.
Dichotomy may dim soul light if delight is given
Mixed rhythms create an authentic, airy shape.
Pride divides, but love beats through crape.
A human-shaped crow stands against me.
After a lull, I realize how other crows may be.
It can evolve into nefarious aviator at a whim.
Either he goes by moon or sun—could be grim.
He flies across treetops as various ravens bow.
Bald winged—swear to the lord's fealty vow.
To fulfill their duty and honor shifting souls.
Embrace him openly, regardless of goals.
Some may imagine me as an angel today.
A mercurial creature with a noble display,
Mythical beings travel to Earth and arrange.
But tomorrow—I can freely delve to estrange.
Enigma is amaroidal for loving or valuing a voice.
Mysterious to the esoteric—familiar by choice,
I may ply suction forms reaming joy or sadness.
In my cryptic tactics—no space for gladness
Nearly recalling draws me in—lures me away.
But those are tears of a child, pure, in disarray.
A juvenile devil is invading my cerebral cortex.
Despite optimum strain, I may become a vortex.