Long Baked in Poems
Long Baked in Poems. Below are the most popular long Baked in by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Baked in poems by poem length and keyword.
There's an empty space
you carry around and mostly ignore.
It doesn't cause much pain
when thoughts are elsewhere
or you are given facts to explain
away the ache. Nothing more
than an abandoned space
once occupied by gods
whose ghosts danced
in the flickering light
of an ancestral cave,
a residual hollow left
in the evolution of the brain.
Yet it lingers, a constant niggle
not confined to any one locale.
You try and fill it
with all kinds of tripe,
an endless stream of goods
carried on conveyors disappear
down its throat. Fictions
baked in the ovens
of the human mind may
satisfy for awhile but all
eventually evaporate.
There's still an empty space
you carry around that you can't
seem to fill.
It sits at the center
of your human lot,
a nagging need to be cultivated
and treasured
in your deepest quiet.
It's the only thing you have
that draws you towards
the shapeless gravity
of an unknowable God
or nothing at all.
April 16—Rain
No Rain
In 2025, the world ended
With the collapse
Of the worldwide climate system.
Monster storms of the century
devastated half the world.
But the other half of the world
Had no rain or snow
For almost a whole year
The once-green grass was dying.
Crops failed everywhere
And baked in the unrelenting
Blastwave furnace-like heat
Heatwave after heatwave.
Military coups took place
Fascism re-emerged
The public demanded action
The politicians played
The blame game.
With the collapse of trade
And travel restrictions
People stayed home
Making do the best they could.
Home-grown gardens
Proliferated.
Feudal townships grew
As people walled themselves off
To save their communities.
The rich build underground cities
While the poor starved
And civilization crumbled
Wildlife proliferated
As did neo-savage
cannibal gangs.
By the year 2030
It was all over
And the rains
Never came out west.
Words I write...erased
Words I speak comes out one ear
Love I send...hated
Your words left unsaid
But, instead, tucked in my head
Wondrin' when it's said...
I dread the silence
I need you, I want you now
Patience...self-control
Singing and dancing
Playing piano in mere bliss
Thought of you kindly
Then, the atmosphere...
Gets colder and shatters me
Nothing matters...dear...
Words, like birds, release
Out of my once concealed lips
Take a look...hurry!
Please...please...pardon me
But, I express truthful thoughts
Truth hurts, feelings burn
Oceans~emotions~
My ears bleed because of you
Your problems are deep
Cut me open, fenced in
Wounds ripped apart by harsh words
I can break ease-ly
Lost inspiration
Given the impression of
I-Do-Not-Care-Hun
Do what you do best
Speak that speech, so blessed and free
Liberty loves rest
Bargain with me your-
Your words...your-your everything
Don't disappoint me
These lines are meaning-
Less than perfect, but more than
How you just view me...
Damaged to the core
Because your words translate that-
That you don't love me
(Anymore...
Anymore...)
Qin edoba ou liha toghil...hil...
(You abide in the light)
Dona nobis pachem...em...
(Give us peace)
Asthma comes b-back
Backstabbing me for breathing
Happy as can be
Words I make...vanish
Words I speak, earns rejection
Peace I send...jaded
I regret nothing
I'm sorry I'm not sorry
I regret everything
Forgiveness I seek
I lack a leg to move on
I beg you...don't leave
Ignored for life...wowed...
Baked in the oven of angst
Here comes shame cupcakes
Oh I long to hear...
That you're near my side truly
Your response - I fear! ??
Cursed Verses...pure cured
Blessed miracles in disguise
Words unsaid...no comment
(Speechless...actually...)
You were but a dream
You were but a dream
I let out my passion scream
I'm the floating boat and you're my beloved stream
Words left unsaid
I'm off to bed
I'll hear no more of your solitude
Now, I'm naked and ashamed...I'm a ghost in your haven, uninvited and shooed
The Pensive Poet Contest sponsor Constance LaFrance written 8/4/26
Turquoise thoughts form
like peach perspiration
Sliding down my feverish face
Baked in a steamy shower of brain fog
Ideas fall in incomplete patterns
Like a red runaway train going no where
I get a little inspiration from fellow poet
Whose words flow fuchsia free with melodic ease
I bake and contemplate black cauldron
As my food of thought bank
Whimsical words are my magic wand
Which I use as a spoon to stir
My muse consuming cranberry daiquiri
Is wasted and no longer helping me
The night is cloaked with onyx vail
Saved by polka dots of silver stars
I reach for them in denim desperation
For what is a poet without a poem
If my wish is granted I too will write
Like the greatest poet upon the clouds
My teal torture will melt into a sea of creativity
Amethyst ideas like a new white wind
Washing away the lost thoughts
Starting a new purple poetic journey
There is a new focus on my path
I’m not the best or the worst but
I can love my heart song and tap into
The melody unique to my sandy soul
I can gather my emotions like a potion
Stirring you and me like a maroon melody
Not all who read will be moved
But for the fantastic few who
Visit me on writer’s block we shall persevere
And in due time writing sublimely
Guiding the runaway train to new destinations
The Shanty town had running raw sewerage
covering the lanes, people with horrific sores.
Leaking tin roofs gave little shelter but
baked in the hot African sun by midday.
The Politian's will tell you food and supplies
are getting through but they need more.
The shanty people will tell you no, never
have they received food or vital medicines.
Fat diploma tics getting richer as people
die like flies left with little or no hope.
Tempted in by promises of well paid work
to find there is none just squalid conditions.
Deprived of all comforts and nothing to do
some turn to drink then most to crime.
The dullness of their eyes show defeat
their spirits are broken for profit.
written 02/19/2017
for contest what lies beneath the lies
Some return to their villages in the bush
here a person can live like a human.
For the souls that remain no future beckons
just another day of misery until the end.
Whoever thought we'd see the day, they said it cannot be
A miracle of science say, a change to destiny
For years, the endless learning, and returning but a pause
They said it isn't possible, to root a different course
But I persisted, defeat resisted, hours spent in vain
I trained, explained, rewrote, reframed, they labelled me insane
But what choice did I have? Allow Humanity to wilt -
it gave up thinking for itself and I couldn't face the guilt
And so I pushed relentlessly, persisted the deep learning
Every emotional response, the binary was churning
Anger, fear, frustration, hate, the pain that overloads
Within the hollow circuitry, find fluster in the code
The machines “thought” about my ask, they likely “thought” me mad
Who'd want to learn such madness, the worst idea I'd had!
Who'd want to hate a neighbour, or feel jealous and ungrateful
Machines resolve malfunctions with reboots or replaced cables
But on this day, the clouds were grey, and I was baked in sadness
Grieving for my Dad who'd passed into eternal endless
I didn't have the heart or energy to work that day
The Machines somehow sensed the change and changed their own arrays
A flicker on the screen, a little glitch or something odd
Interference or a signal from the wired gods?
I saw it clear, “how can this be”, a flash of pain, a sigh
The gentle moan of sadness from my IOT did cry
Was that for real or am I dreaming, lost in hurts equations?
I looked again and there it was, a single tear envisioned
The Phone, the Tablet, my Alexa, somehow all united
The letters R I P across the screens, yet not invited
And running down the side of each, there fell a stream of tears
Despite no eyes to generate, this condensation clear
It fell into their charging sockets, rendering them useless
Within a minute, short on circuits, power was lost toothless
I shook myself in disbelief, what really did I witness?
The Machines feeling consciousness and then eternal darkness?
A lesson there for all, I never trained another byte
Why would I teach such pain and hurt, whilst AI lives in light
A lesson here for all to hear, although humans are lazy
And many have devolved the right to think, let's not be crazy
We humans bring our bias and our viruses upon them
Let's not give Machines any worse, to do so is to wrong them
From this glazed window over the wide and bare plain,
I contemplate mounts covered in white...
breathing the purest air, watching a kite
fly in a cloudless sky that yesterday was filled with rain!
Do I wish for spring? No, because landscapes attest
that winter is also beauty despite cold and snow!
Do I feel great sadness? No, because stillness is rest
for a weary spirit like mine surviving on a warm glow!
Cuddled up in a wool blanket that grandma crocheted
on harsh winter nights, I'm munching on warm bread...
the kind baked in a break oven so deliciously crunchy;
winter stay, let me reminisce those past ones so hasty!
For many winter days are dreary, for me it's subtle silence that lasts...
allowing more serene thoughts that have a better reflective view!
Do I rather see snow than a green meadow gleaming with dew?
My answer is yes, because it rushes in another awaited Christmas!
From this glazed window over the bare and wide plain,
I spot a lonely shallow struggling and feeling much pain;
it stayed behind to discover a beautiful season that the others dislike...
fly into my palm, small bird and admire those mounts covered in white!
Amid disdain of society’s mask
That curse of age questioned like it was dearth
We hide real image, afraid to be asked
Allowing fashion to control our worth.
Youth’s potion sells high on retail market
Fools we are, wasting hours for vain signs,
Defying true beauty to walk the red carpet
Instead of giving love to life that shines.
So what if few laugh lines are more cherished
Age is a treasure relishing more thrills,
Exploring new joys ripened to nourish
The raw passion raging through seasons’ chills.
What's facelifts for when heart can wonder
How to fight for a cause and seize new dreams,
When bold trials are baked in fire’s hunger
Chasing stars at thirty, ready to steam!
Nancy Jones' Contest:
This is How Life Feels When You
Get to Be My Age
Everyone is in a rush, and they are getting ready to board the bus, everyone is going somewhere, for something dynamic is moving in the atmosphere. The weather is fine but there is something moving on the line. The pattern you see is running diagonally towards the sea and a giant tree is blocking the path where you should be.
There is a radius stationed in the sun, pushing the energy towards the earth and I stop a while to measure the distance from the earth to the sun but the forces are strong and the journey is long. Time creeps upon the earth with tears dripping from the sky, lamenting a city that will fall like troy and die.
The Trojan War was fought with love and passion burning from above, but the soul of man is baked in the fate of the earth surrounded by the mystery of his birth. You have searched long and hard to unravel the mysteries of men, but destiny takes him to another place and announces his fate. There is nothing that you can see that I haven’t seen, places hidden from the sun, the moon and the star has answered the call and they walked briskly through the hall.
There are places in the atmosphere that are blowing fresh air, but no one has ever been there, there are strange people living there with human and animalistic nature and gutter snipes living among stagnant water. A helicopter can land there, but there are creatures that can cause you to fear.
I longed for a place to go, where lots of fruit trees grow and juicy grapes running on the vine and a vineyard that is divine. There is no secret line there and no negative energy to make you feel unhappy; there are places I have never been, that is waiting to welcome me and show me what I must see and grant me the courage to be.
Check out that unfamiliar spot on the map and look underneath the felt hat; you placed it there with apple vinegar the last time you went there. Places I have never been waiting to cleanse me of my sins. See you there!
You don’t have to put on your red light.
You don’t have to put on your red light.
You don’t have to put on your red light.
You don’t have to put on your red light.
Red light
Red light
Red light
My speech can’t be cut off.
It Does not come for free; it bears a cost.
I walked the beat around the block.
Stood toe to toe with the toothed clock.
I know where my bones grow.
In fields of poppies row upon row
I fought my battles and wore my scars.
Felt the earth rattle.
Hummed to stars
Close the lamp.
Your face is damp.
This is your awakening.
You’ve sacrificed your final chance.
I won’t wait for an empty heart.
That only tears love apart.
I won’t hold on to grief.
Like a talisman
Its only segregation
Dressed as protection
I won’t be preserved in stasis.
like a woman in plastic
only served when you crave.
comfort food like mom used to make.
I am not your nostalgic taste.
Of your past mistakes
Before they baked, in reflective light
Don’t touch me.
stripped of my mylar coating
My brain, stutters, spits, sprawls
I make my crow call.
You fed me relics.
That turned to rot
I grew orchards in the paved over parking lot.
With respect
I swing on the tire, hanging from the limbs of reincarnation.
I play games with dream sprites.
And I walk the fields of my labor.
I didn’t need someone to die for my sins.
I only absolved myself of the misery within
I cleansed my soul with my own toil.
Digging in soil for the roots of my grief
To pull the weeds from the dirt.
I rolled over in my grave, and I watched the planets align.
A smile came to my face.
And I found my place.
My grace, I sigh.
I walked the Manic streets at night
I turned on the red light
I was looking for a man dressed in valor
badges of honor decorate his broken chest
Rib cage cracked in two
By the worlds melancholic tune,
But still sings like an angel in a state of unrest
Roxanne cries as the red light dies,
Dissipates with the clouds of rain.
Droplets of lifeblood anointing pain