Long At arms length Poems
Long At arms length Poems. Below are the most popular long At arms length by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long At arms length poems by poem length and keyword.
"Man's Forsaken Earth"
~~~from the "Dig My Own Grave Series"~~
["Dig My Own Grave" is a series of writings in reflection of mental preparation...
~~~Each scoop of dirt rids the mess where I'm to be finally laid to rest~~~]
................................{Cry For My Sister}
It's written that the earth was created and given to man to till._
And once man learned right from wrong has been responsible for
man's own will.
Man has changed the plan laid down for him regarding the way to live._
And now man fight and take more than he offers, shares
or gives.
Everything man has ever needed was placed at arms length._
And now man must toil the land but only receive a tenth.
All creatures great and small once roam the earth in solemn peace._
And now blood must flow and homes destroyed before the fighting cease.
Fresh air, green grass, flowing streams, valleys and hills..._
are now used in pursuit to satisfy man's greed, wants and thrills.
This beautiful earth was formed with love and left in man's good hands._
And now it's death, destruction, war, and famine far throughout the lands.
Many have tried to compensate for all the damages done._
But to man's own folly; has given those sins to his son.
If you look around the earth today you'll see it's not the same._
So don't strut with your heads held high while making God the blame.
Nothing is as it once was for what Man's undertaken._
And now this earth's a dismal place and truly man forsaken.
At a glance, I felt the fire.
At a distance, I felt your warmth.
At arms length, I blazed with desire.
The first touch, it fueled an ember.
The first embrace, it fanned the flame.
The first coupling, it torched a timber.
Hand on heart, had branded a life.
Hand on hips, had ignited a passion.
Hand in hand, had sparked a wife.
United together, we scorched a plan.
United together, we kindled a child.
United together, we forged a man.
Years later, a cold smoking gun.
Years later, a hot funeral pyre.
Years later, a dead ashen son.
Still today, with mad burning coals.
Still today, with sad smoldering eyes.
Still today, with dim flickering souls.
Till tomorrow, our past blistering sands.
Till tomorrow, our daily simmering lives.
Till tomorrow, our eternal welded hands.
My shrink thinks I'm crazy
The only prescription for me is time
Says it's the only heartache treatment
But it never did heal mine
How's a heartache supposed to come to pass
If it never got to be
You've taken all the hope I had
And turned it into misery
Like an old wedding photograph
Tucked away in some drawer
Our souls will never get to know
All that there was to explore
You keep me right at arms length
In case you need to pull me in
But lately I'm feeling much more like
I'm just the one that could have been
So tomorrow when you wake up
To find me no longer here
Please realize you hurt me more
Than an ocean full of tears
Like an old wedding photograph
Tucked away in some drawer
Our souls will never get to know
All that there was to explore
Please find the chance should you get the time
To see my heart lies at the core
Time hasn't healed me yet
I guess I just loved you more
Time hasn't healed me yet......
I guess I just loved you more
The world is spinning so fast that time doesnt have a chance to render its mercy.
The uncertainty of truth is at arms length, what we can not observe or measure does not exsist. The construct of reality assumes its never ending assault on global consciousness and unity in its entirety. What we observe and what we don't observe
can be applicable as well as impliable. Time and space can lead you anywhere and anywhen. We can confirm that in this life man has harnessed enough knowledge to destroy the world and that we are at the mercy of an unstabled power struggle. If knowledge is power who can harness the power if no one knows it all? If we are all a part of this world and in unity with the universe how do we control our own actions? To control my actions is to control the actions of others for we are one, is this part of deception or part of the truth? Is it truth that "out of chaos comes order"? Is it because of this very statement that man creates chaos to gain control? Is it truth that what we dont observe we also change? Was knowledge the original sin or is knowledge the truth? Is there such a thing as negative knowledge? The questions that tear at the very fabric that hold time and space together are the questions that will damn us all to hell.
Tear the Heart and Teach the Soul
Through all our lives we seek control
Darkness held at arms' length
Striving with our bitter strength
Forcing madness to submit to sense
To rein our Animus to governance
Though it resists, to try our will
Against its roil we set our minds
Lest we perceive what it divines
The razored truths it seeks and finds
The lessons it would give us still
That tear the heart and teach the soul.
Life eats life
As so it goes, without restraint
Necessity absorbs the spreading taint
That all must bear, the cost of life
Paid with death, born of strife
We are the ends of one another
As we destroy we must create
As we discover, much too late
Sister to Sister, Brother to Brother
This. The shared edge of the knife.
Hot soup here
Keeping at arms length;
Face mask call-signs
~~~~~~~~~
Antiseptic atmosphere
Pockets of isolation;
Together yet distanced
~~~~~~~~~
Empty public places
Ghost town feeling;
Pandemic toll
~~~~~~~~~
Lockdown hits hard
Widespread anxiety;
Fear chokes worry
~~~~~~~~~
Global bad news
Broken economies;
A tragic retreat
~~~~~~~~~
Just a small virus
Strangles our mortality;
Deadly lung infection
~~~~~~~~~
Across the world
Colour blind viral works;
Shades of Spanish flu
~~~~~~~~~
News flash
Death toll peaks;
More on the way
~~~~~~~~~
Dangerous liaisons
Gatherings banned;
Contagious consequences
~~~~~~~~~
At last the moon
Styles luna fancy;
Magnetic convergence
~~~~~~~~~
Scary phenomenon
Downtown ghost town;
Crowded disappearance
~~~~~~~~~
Stay at home
Internet escalation;
Social creatures chained
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
01 April 2020
Singapore
The Forge
by Michael R. Burch
To at last be indestructible, a poem
must first glow, almost flammable, upon
a thing inert, as gray, as dull as stone,
then bend this way and that, and slowly cool
at arms-length, something irreducible
drawn out with caution, toughened in a pool
of water so contrary just a hiss
escapes it—water instantly a mist.
It writhes, a thing of senseless shapelessness ...
And then the driven hammer falls and falls.
The horses prick their ears in nearby stalls.
A soldier on his cot leans back and smiles.
A sound of ancient import, with the ring
of honest labor, sings of fashioning.
Originally published by The Chariton Review
It was mid afternoon on a crisp early December day that I saw her. Like watching a movie she seemed to be unaware of my presence. Her gait was slow and meandering as she approached the beginning of a sidewalk buried by colorful leaves of fall. Then suddenly, as if surprised, she turned her head, and like flipping a switch I watched as a spring of joyful life filled each step of the next 60 seconds. Although I never saw her face I knew she was smiling and laughing, and free. It was an unmistakable display of pure happiness. Nearing the end of natures playground she slowed her gait again then paused leaning into a tree and tapping her toe behind her. She seemed to be grateful for the last moments of the fading sun shining softly on her skin. From joyful to content, at least I had hoped, I could only assume the presence of her joy was still with her. A final act of surprise came when she knelt down to gather a big scoop of leaves from around her feet and hold them at arms length in front of her. After a moment of stillness, she slowly began to let the leaves fall from between her fingers until they were half gone, then threw the rest into the air above her head, arms reaching high as a champion. Still unable to see her face, I hadn't the benefit of a facial expression to guide my thoughts. It may have been that very thing that drew me into her fantasy and somehow made it my own. I saw a story of hope when I watched her through my heart of colored glass and wondered to myself, which of us had just imagined that?
- Jeannie Minor
PART 4
Can my love for be so strong ?, that it weakens one’s resolve to have a healthy soul, a strong spirit, weakens one’s instinct for survival. Why is it ?, that I seem unable to mold a key / keys from all the material provided, in order to unlock the doors of love’s cage, of love’s prison that have encased my heart for so long. Locked in this cage !, my heart continues to beat strong , drumming out tunes so positive, so pure, trying to drown out all the negative sounds that pound down, that surround this tired old soul, who truly wants to let go .
Can the back beat ?, all this ladies negativity towards me, be a true sound ?, or is it waves of camouflage ?, a veil of beams behind which – consciously or subconsciously – she can hide, feel safe, behind which she can avoid any involvement, any commitment, where she can keep me at arms length yet keep me close enough to comfort until another, more suitable man – a paramour – comes along ?
With these hands
There is so much they can do
As I wave hello and wave goodbye
On this journey passing through
With these hands
I can lift you up
Pull the hurt into my arms
Comfort with a hug
Yet with these hands
I can ball a fist
If anger gets the best of me
So I must be careful with them
With these hands
I can hold your hands
Walk with you in what you go through
Be a helping hand
With these hands
I can work the field
Helping feed the poor in need
Use these hands to heal
Yet with these hands
I can hold you at arms length
They can also be used to abuse
With them I must clearly think
With these hands
I come baring gifts
With palms held wide open
It is what it is
With these hands
I can heal or destroy
With these and others hands
You just never know