Long Barbs Poems
Long Barbs Poems. Below are the most popular long Barbs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Barbs poems by poem length and keyword.
On this night, bleak reminisces grip
My heart and on my pores…these sorrows bring,
Pained deceit--- lies hiding a false worship
Of affection that plays me like a string
As he wanders on, trysts beneath June’s rain--
That I , naïve, yearn for musk’s charm again
For this quest dares my ego oh how vain --
A woman enmeshed in barbs of summer- fire
Believing kisses could enchant moon’s lyre,
While thrilled zest quickens sweet passion’s desire :
Yet, I’m not the one and only… woes rip
These bleeding veins, the laughter that can’t sing…
Firmly, self- esteem hoists to regain
His amends nulled ~ lifting my worth…higher.
..................
Posted 12/2/2018
Fragmented Rhyme--November 2018 Writing Challenge
Sponsor: Dear Heart
poetically, and zealously
oozing, gushing, bubbling over
with faux snobbish suave re:
pulse sieve literary fatuous
haughtiness, and ludicrous narcissistic pre
ning all the while chuckling to me
self, and indifferent if
some anonymous browser
with Dutchman's breeches rolled up
upon cresting wave over Zyder Zee
disparages mine harmless
badinage, hence if ye
might qualify as such nitpicker,
who doth cavill - dee
crying wading thru
quagmire of verbiage,
a gentle reply to thee
might be more wise to turn energy
toward, how in many another country
the village people haint so free
spouting, sporting, and spoiling,
vis a vis intellectual sparring
(albeit innocent) black
barbs hatch chee
ving, and raising urgent
attention against he
(who whiz squelching
constitutional rights) re:
pressing, rescinding, reviling,
et cetera access toward key
underpinnings within these fifty
constituent United States
of America beckon alacrity
for obliging citizens across
all points of the compass to alee
v8 his indiscriminate flee
sing, sans bedrock nation could tee
tear on the brink of calamity,
which political plug quite inadequate
to staunch hemorrhaging, viz upending
many a sacred liberty,
and foo to you reprimanding
against any agree
gee us objection to pen about polly lee
ticks and/or religion!
Fresh home from therapy,
and resonate with zeal
tush air cerebral cogs a turn'n
analogous to and pinion wheel
hence attempt made to bare soul,
sans thru poetry re: veal
ling avidity, asper barreling neurological
daily kos loaded truck full
heading toward figurative
lifelong landfill deposits
on weekly psycho
logical session I unseal
manipulating bothersome issues
controlled via bot size thumbwheel,
which grave undertaking i.e.
professional counseling allows,
enables, and provides opportunistic
gradual process at selfheal
ling oft times necessitates
reviewing silent Virgina reel
comprising the story
of earlier life piecemeal
akin to a slapdash montage
chronicling existential ordeal,
now referencing adenoids
(removal first mention within
poetic endeavor, when young boy)
loosely linkedin with nasopharyngeal
pseudo oral palate
highway tucking each meal
across miniature bridgework,
ma late mum meekly
acceded to doctors orders,
said operation sub
sequently deemed unnecessary
affecting negligible decreasing nasality
predicated on split (bifid
or bifurcated uvula), viz laryngeal
utterances finds me speculating
speculating now, whether taking kneel
ling pose possibly coo dove
wrought divine intercession
giving me super powers ideal
for fighting off being bullied
gloating this instant imagining
bringing beastie boys to heel
actual reality visit my kid self,
a most convenient scapegoat
socially withdraw puny size lad
internalizing hateful barbs glom
ming up significant emotional gearwheel
inferiority complex predominating
supplemented with cumulative
anger, a potent feel
ling exacerbating anxiety prone disposition
courtesy chromosomal
(pop'n mom genes) art of the deal.
Crazy Cat Lady
there's a hotbed of crazy cat ladies
waving at me from their new mercedes
howling in a frenzy for me to stop
for a quick drill, I fall for their prop
giving to fish to their host
and on a side road we break toast
with the moon watching over me in fears
being bound by the black satin dears
with all the aces in their hand
they strike up the broadening band
arrows of lust shooting thru the air
barbs landing with dispair
claws ravaging my back
in peril I begin to see pitch black
my picnic whipped and lashed
for salt my quick drill now dashed
as candle wax ushers down the aisle
to the crazy cat ladies smile
I'm screaming at vacant eyes
craziness muting my cries
I'm lost at their booted feats
save for a pocket of pussy treats
connie pachecho
1/16/18
Jellyfish! Who could have named you
other than a creature structured
by a cage of bone?
Opaque but transparent
your arrested evolution
lives in an alien perfection.
You abide inside the sea, yet billowing that sea
through your bald, bladder body.
Propelled by the encompassing
and likewise, encompassed and captured
by that which fills and surrounds you.
Jellyfish, not a fish nor jellied
but muscular and powerful
yet in a strange, smooth-sided way
the way the deep is. Slick and slippery
as oleo. At once both a slack rippling
and a tenacious tough whiplash of power.
Your form a confliction,
a mass of otherworldly contradiction.
Under the knife
your body defies reason,
until we see the aerodynamics,
the subcutaneous aquatic precision
of your parts.
That glistening hood,
the bell shaped corpus of you,
but no brain just a stomach pouch
in place of any mentality,
perhaps your thoughts float free
inside that gaseous umbrella of your mind?
Multiple eyes dotted around the hood
like inky portholes.
A sallow mandible mouth
tucked like a fist under your hood
from which those ‘oral arms’
fan away from
to reach and gather morsels of meat.
These your only speech
as you consume a thrashing utterance.
Loosely arrayed about those mouth appendages,
are long trailing tentacles,
each sensitive feeler equipped
with venomous cells encrusted with barbs
that bite with a poisonous ferocity.
Jelly fish, your anatomy is upside down
and inside out, and yet
we cannot doubt the impeccable necessity of you,
the point of you,
and perhaps even the point of us
as we search
for that germinal sea within.
He walked along the barbs of life
Slowly what had filled him
Drained away
Seeped out upon the ground
Hollowed him
Dried him out
Turned his heart to dust
He looked the same
The shell remained
The carefully manicured facade
Then came the winds
The winds of change
Blowing him away
Or possibly towards
His reconstitution
Hollow man
Refilled
Redefined
Heart pumping
Excited
Dreaming
Laughing and crying
A spirit now flying
Insides no longer dying
Inside filled to overflowing
Muck had been released
Inside white as fleece
Sometimes what's inside
Needs to be washed away
An empty cup can be refilled
Purified
Electrified
Freed from false pride
Heart freed when love is applied
Opened with nothing to hide
Living once again
Enjoying the ride.
Hollow man
Is now okay
Not empty like yesterday
Age steps out from the forest
onto the ice-pleated pond
scorpions tap-tap his ancient flesh
his sun hovers brittle but honest-
An unknown selects the proper spot
passages are drilled and gleaned
knots untangle
miracles are imminent-
The line quivers
barbs engage
age dons a child's heart
silver flash is coaxed
through the silver hole
into the violent realm of
[silence]
Memories commence...
an ibis white gown
granite walls
a purple heart
ancient vows
a flag encased in glass
birth songs
drifting love
the deep blackness of friends long dead...
Age believes the purist smile is the one performed
alone-
Grandfather Dusk tends the candelabra
while crooning a miracle's lament,
only then does age retreat from depleted pond..
stepping into the forest of ice and beyond.
Roses for a Lover, Idealized
by Michael R. Burch
When you have become to me
as roses bloom, in memory,
exquisite, each sharp thorn forgot,
will I recall?yours made me bleed?
When winter makes me think of you?
whorls petrified in frozen dew,
bright promises blithe spring forsook,
will I recall your words?barbed, cruel?
Originally published by The Lyric. Keywords/Tags: Rose, Roses, Red, Flower, Flowers, Love, Lover, Lovers, Lost Love, Memory, Memories, Thorn, Thorns, Barb, Barbs, Barbed, Blood, Bleed, Bleeding, Spring, Winter, Frozen Dew, Ice, Snow, Cruel, Cruelty, Pain, Separation, Parting, Break Up, Divorce, Relationship, Relationships
Our own hagrid (in the corporeal essence of marital relatives) heaves livid rage
like real life harry potter dementors dead set on wreaking havoc
mainly from the zison matriarch in a mental and physical decrepit stage
attributable in part to her four score plus years on a depression riddled life
but mainly on account that her least favorite son in law lacks any income or
wage.
Venomous rage spews forth like a smoldering volcano about to explode
threats to vacate the premises likened to toxic emotions
that bear down like the sword of Damocles or how atlas bore earth as a heavy
load
which chronic onslaught of fiery livid (red hot poker) rage
sets the entire collective family psyche in an awful tortured soulful mode.
Animosity brewed and festered for well nigh going into the eighth year
scant mutually agreeable resolutions prolong this debacle
at the corners of our ability to cope do rent asunder and tear
and last shred of sanity that remains whereby nightmarish demons leer
like haywire bots with maniacal grins their trademark flair.
Wrath batters and assaults without merciless cessation lathered with blame
that we supposedly bleed dry this elderly octogenarian dame
criticism and insults indiscriminately hurled burns like hellish flame
no matter both myself and spouse experience inherent weaknesses
any explanations describing efforts to reaching goals accepted as lame.
Angst permeates while hopelessness drips from every cell
dealing with malice (from blood kin no less) with no salvation this place we dwell
synonymous with living among the dead in I did believe in hell
whereby these retaliatory barbs tossed like hand grenades pell mell
because the old lady this ramshackle house she wishes to sell.
If anybody who read this help us please
An affordable rent such a deal this guy would cease
as a permanent place to live our plight t’would appease.
Couplets
by Mir Taqi Mir
loose translations by Michael R. Burch
Sharpen the barbs of every thorn, O lunatic desert!
Perhaps another hobbler, limping by on blistered feet, follows me!
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
My life is a bubble,
this world an illusion.
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Selflessness has gotten me nowhere:
I neglected myself far too long.
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I know now that I know nothing,
and it only took me a lifetime to learn!
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Love's just beginning, so why do you whine?
Why not wait and watch how things unwind!
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch