Long Bandaid Poems
Long Bandaid Poems. Below are the most popular long Bandaid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bandaid poems by poem length and keyword.
I’ve started looking into your soul
now don’t be scared
I mean no harm, just let me stare
at your majestic face
For sure I see pimples and mascara
yet something in your eyes
Perhaps hidden in your bearded-bush
a much younger man
And drab strands of hair hanging lower
as you hang your head
Under your hat you resemble your dad
whose gone to heaven
Behind those taped up glasses, old and cracked
resides a little girl of fifty-five
I’ve started looking into your soul
a bandaid to tear off
a little at a time through the revelation of years
through laughter and tears
Perhaps talk of religion as you see it, I hear
a heart waxing and waning
like the moon appearing and hiding behind clouds
a forest of fog and dark mirrors
Sometimes I catch a scintilla of softness and strength
like a drink of water after harsh sun
and for a moment we bond and become one in spirit
I’ve started looking into your soul
don’t
be
afraid
I mean no harm
perhaps
we
will
be friends after a while
3/6/2018
Moby Dick, geometry, physics.
Study every subject everyday.
Homework is an indicator of future success.
Success is not necessarily happiness but it helps.
Freedom is to formulate your own definition of success.
Happiness is an imaginary tree, its own reward, and a fact.
Facts and fiction may be memorialized in memos or found in dreams.
The story starts thus: Each summer the honeysuckles and the
huckleberries . . .
The web is that extra brain we've all been dreaming of having.
Like jumping 4 meters or flying without a plane.
To fly like that must one first have homework?
Some say yes, some say don't. It depends on how you vote.
Happiness is what happens when everything that happens
Fits the time perfectly and it's all out of your hands.
Not exactly. You don't let go of the steering wheel while driving fast in
the passing lane.
You look left and right and check your blind spots.
Homework is an introduction to everything you're not
And all you do not know. It's supposed to help you learn to know where
you want to go before going where you have to go.
Otherwise you end up on Ulzana's raid
Bleeding, without a bandaid.
All the achievement in the world won't relieve your loneliness
Or satisfy your sexual longing. What girls are like behind their eyes.
Survival, procreation. That's all there is to love.
But the loved one is the one who can be trusted with your life.
Whether Christ or your wife. The Muslim moms.
On my walk in the woods I come to a sitting spot
Above a small gorge cut by a stream through hemlocks.
Here someone has left a statuette of the Buddha and the flags you see
Flapping in the wind at sky funerals.
This is a pretty good place to sit quietly and think about homework.
You cant fix a certain man...
If he doesnt have a heart.
Its pointless to even try...
He was broken from the start.
Not even a stitch or a bandaid...
You cant patch or repair.
I told you that hes broken...
Theres no feelings in there.
He has no guilt or remorse...
Its like talking to a brick wall.
Blank and empty hes all self...
Hes all for one and one for all.
Its pointless to even try...
Dont waste your precious years.
Hes out having a great time...
While your sitting home in tears.
So when he finally realises...
How he treated you bad.
All those missed opportunities...
Too blind to see what he had.
So as your time is precious...
And you have a loving heart.
There's someone more deserving...
That loves you right from the start.
How marvelous that when we bleed,
To staunch a flow with little speed,
If not too deep, no bandaid need.
A miracle occurs indeed:
The platelet, wondrous little seed,
Exposed to air, sprouts like a weed,
Creates a mesh from here to there
It shortly spans, forms little hairs,
And fairly soon is everywhere.
And with our little mesh in place,
The blood cells can no longer race
Out of the wound with rapid pace.
Of course, you say, blood clots in air!
Sure, obvious, but to be fair,
The lungs don’t clot; that’s hard to square.
Perhaps it’s sentient, it knows
When traveling along the rows,
Like capillaries in your toes.
Yet somehow, it detects your harm
And raises up the fire alarm,
And to your wound, the platelets swarm.
In tiniest alveoli,
The blood, in contact with the sky,
If clotted here, could make you die.
But when with lungs, you must inhale,
The complex steps we’ll not detail
Do not transpire or you would fail
To even take another breath,
Or contemplate your last regrets;
Your life would quickly end in death.
So marvellous, so wondrous made!
Attention to great detail paid,
Allowed sometimes, elsewhere forbade.
No chance involved, you’ll not persuade;
Yet once again, it should be said
That we are fearful, wondrous made.
The bruise of mistakes begin as an almost invisible blue.
The lightest hue.
The mistake not fully acknowledged as even being a bruise.
The errors and lesson still unknown to you.
Then as the bruise of mistakes become knotted and tender to touch
Excuses become the bandaid so the pain isn't too much.
Eventually blame is wrongly placed and used as a crutch.
As you expect pity, understanding, forgiveness, and such.
Then as the bruise of mistakes become deep purple almost black.
The pain now full strength while you just wish you could go back.
Yet still the pain from the mistakes make your vision lack.
You are leary of choices and watchful of cracks.
Then at it's worse you fall asleep in tears accepting it will never end.
You awake in the morning and the black and blue blend.
You start thinking of your past and ways to make amends.
While forgiveness remains illusive like war that never ends.
Then as much time passes and the bruise is barely blue.
The lesson now learned created a scar or maybe two.
You swallow your pride and apologize to a few
Standing there still raw they admonish you which you allow them to do.
To walk away with only the scars from the bruise.
While they judge and condemn everything that you do.
Never understanding the mistake or what caused it's debut.
Looking down stuck up noses never seeing you
Brother oh brother
Where have you gone
I have loved you
For so very long
Your dreams and
Life have eaten you
Mind and Body ghostly
Haven’t a clue
There is no hope
For your return
Liquors killed your brain
The pages have been burned
And I wish time could
Erase your tears
Nightmares would end
Blessings replace fears
I fear you are too
Far removed and done
I don’t think they make
A bandaid for this one
Drugs and therapy
May help you recover
But the pain of living
Has pushed you over
Reality is anguish
With so much pain
Sun doesn’t shine
Everyday is rain
Brother oh brother
Where have you gone
I am here always
A sad brothers song
GRAVE THOUGHTS
unseen
even though protocol
states 6 feet under
all along
walking up to the stone
pushing up daisies
with my feet
until his mate
fades away
and a fresh dig
even then a tent
covers the gaping hole
but we circle back
and now
only a bandaid board
covers the open wound
we peek - can’t help ourselves
we don’t see
a wooden coffin
instead the object’s
encased in cement
and i find that 6 feet
is hardly anything
at all
and realize her mate
resides
just a shovelful away
they could almost
hold hands
and i want to reach
toward the man
i met as an infant
the one
that loved me
and i’m sad
i’ve walked over
corpses
souls reside
over my head
solace kisses
heaven sent
and we drive away
an indelible image
left in my eye
a snapshot
underneath the lid
5/30/2017
storm, weight of rain sloshes
o’er the sides of the acrylic tub
thunder of strobe, eyes blinking
slashes of screams, disaster —
utterance of lips, gutteral
door jammed, eye to eye contact
with the lion and lamb; the owl
on heights of despair interrogates,
scrutinizes, eyeballs the blood seas,
sees all, inspects your history,
his and his too, talons tapping.
outside the storm-beset sanctuary
enlightenment, smoky decanter,
revolt against rage, mercy seeks
mercy great, dumbo’s ears all wet,
humbling effect, spirit genuflect
running, running, out of breath
entangled in net, unseen drooling
at achilles tendon, heel’s devotion
genuflection at soaked-white tow’r,
emptied of a mother’s call, deliver’d
a newborn once more — water
breaking, agony of childbirth
the ruination of seeds, road rage
— off course; after impregnation
of tumbling weeds, g.p.s turned off
God is greater than all this. Later
it seems frivolous. Weight was great —
shoulder-pounding, tremulous.
But He comforts us
as if we had a boo-boo —
God, great and wonderful
cleanses the germs
thoroughly, applies bandaid,
kisses the wound; also
the forehead
mother’s heart and stomach
patched; her seething brain
restored to sanity
God moved
the husband’s hand to phone
softened hearts of stone
punishment was puny
Three cords intertwined
A fourth runs through and through
Spirit of release and joy
the Lord allows not
the ruination of a mother’s soul;
pulls her close — nose to nose
with the lion, lamb and owl
she can only smile now
8/12/2020
Brian Strand’s contest
Dear Heart,
I’d like to file a formal complaint
It seems that your an obsessive overachiever
That you take your job a little to seriously
Dear Heart,
Please stop breaking yourself into a million little pieces-
Because you fall in love with ideas and hypotheticals
Because you color people before they can show you their true aura
Dear Heart,
Why
Why do you find every crumbling transparent excuse for the world
But somehow you make yourself bleed
Why can’t you put up a wall against the hailing obscenities
Why can’t you knock down that wall for a genuine whisper
Dear Heart,
You were supposed to be a road map to happiness
But it seems I’m lost somewhere between I love you and I miss you
You are supposed to find contentment in success and lessons in failures
But you grasp for the next and the regret
Dear Heart,
I know your tired and broken
But Brain is telling me to tell you to stop crying
Dear Heart,
I’m sorry I yelled at you
I’m sorry I thought a bandaid was enough to fix you
Dear Heart,
I know your Shattered-
But I promise I won’t lose the pieces
Think I need a husband
Perhaps you empathise
A miracle may happen…
The sun each day will rise.
Dreams and wishes do come true;
One day they will for me
Wish I had a husband now
To make a pot of tea.
I think I need a husband
To rock me off to sleep
I think I need a husband
And one which I can keep.
I think I need a husband
may buy him from a shop
I’d like to have a husband;
One which will not flop.
You know now what I’m thinking
For words I here do write
Be great to have a husband
For everyday and night!
From sky he may come falling;
May have a little crash
Then he’d know he’d need a wife-
To bandaid up his gash.