Long Beaten Poems
Long Beaten Poems. Below are the most popular long Beaten by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Beaten poems by poem length and keyword.
I speak for many
But not for all
He was a military veteran
Awaiting a September fall
I put my song in your heart
My heart is your song
Until I crawl beaten
Back into your womb
Days they seem to stretch
For how long
Could I have been wrong
For how long
As I journey
Through my darkest days
Of sunshine
Nothing but cold winters
On my mind
Enlighten the darkest killer
I died of amnesia
I don’t want to pray anymore
A forgotten ritual
Seen too many have-nots
Plastered to heavens doors
Remember me
For I shall not return
Remember me
A beggar at arms
Mother’s last scar
Lost his soul
Seen it slither homeless
As I tempt passion
This cognac in a jar
Journey through
The darkest sunshine
Nothing but cold winters
On my mind
Seventy-two on clear sheets
Father where can your savior be
Are you comfortably numb
Or numb and can’t find comfort
Living off the hand of a locust
An honest man attempting
To stay focused when hurt
Turnover and sleep
The piano speaks to me
Violin creeping down my spine
Nothing but cold winters on my mind
As I journey through the darkest sunshine
ROOTS
A fallen seed left bare and alone
Whisked away far from home
She lives in the shadows, waiting for the day
When the warmth and light would come her way
She weathers the storms in solitude and despair
Wondering if there is anyone to care
She remains diligent as she is beaten to the ground
Holding on for dear life, trying not to make a sound
Would anyone hear her if she cried?
Would it matter if she continued to try?
Days turned into years as her roots were set into place
Growing stronger, the storms she could now face
The clouds parted and the sun beamed
It was on this day, that she finally felt seen
All of the fight and tenacity through the doubt
She had a purpose, her leaves began to sprout
They swayed back and forth, she knew this was the reason why
All of the pain came to this, the reason that she tried
They were hers, so delicate and true
She had to protect them, so they would never have to go through
Wondering if they were loved or if they had a home
She was theirs and they would never be alone
More storms came and went but together they stood tall
She knew this time was bittersweet, eventually like her, they would fall
The seasons rotated and the day had come
For her precious sprouts to drift away, one by one
She knew this would happen, but knowing did not seem to stop the ache
Watching the extensions of herself, slowly drift away
She held her ground, knowing the breeze would carry them on their pursuit
She had faith they would flourish because in their hearts they knew,
They came from strong roots
-Kristy Interian
Dedicated to my children
If you could see through their eyes...and see what they've seen.
You would see a part of this world...where no child should ever be.
The part full of hate...the part full of evil and sin.
Abused little children...tossed aside by their kin.
Mommy and Daddy...buying drugs to get high.
A child hungry and beaten...and not knowing why.
So many turn their backs...not wanting to see.
These poor little souls...just wanting to be.
Wanting to be loved...to laugh and to play.
They live all around us...every single day.
Open your eyes my friends...and always look for clues.
Listen for the yelling...watch for that bruise.
We can all do our part.
We can help them survive.
Please reach out and help this poor defenseless children.
Help keep them alive.
I love you with every fibre of my being
I hate you with everything I have
You are my inspiration
I inspire to be everything you’re not
Every word out your mouth is a song
When you talk all I want is for you to stop
I want to be around you every minute of every day
I never want to see you again
Words trapped
Words silenced
Forced to live in the grey
No life
No colour
My emotions
Lined up neatly in the middle
Like princesses in a beauty pageant
Neat and tidy and presentable
Ready to be shown to society
Those lucky enough to be unaccepted are shoved back into the shadows
Hiding from the judging looks and hurt faces
My feelings
Worn and tired
Yet buzzing with adrenaline
Like soldiers on a battle field
Lacking the hope that they’ll ever see the light of day again
That they’ll ever send a red rose to their loved one
That they’ll ever throw a rotten red tomato at their enemy
My thoughts
Silenced
Like prisoners
Chained and tortured
Beaten and broken
Forced into the deep dungeons of the earth
Happiness
The pretty blonde they all want to see
The stereotype
The norm
Well the majority isn’t blonde
They aren’t skinny
They are ugly
They are stunning
Love
The one I protect
The one I protect from you
The one I protect you from
For I know it has the power to destroy
Destroy hearts
Destroy lives
It has already destroyed mine
Destroy friendships
I hope it doesn’t destroy ours
Hate
The boil in my bubbling blood
The monster in my bones
The one I deny
But I know the truth
I always will
In the way my fingers itch when I see your face
In the way my feet are ready to run away from you
In the way my thoughts stray to a paradise without you
I am yellow
Living in the false grey world
If only they knew I was red
Potent and alive
True and honest
Love and hate
Hate and love
Vanishing varnish kindly stood the test of
time in sweet and salty impermanence
A boat shed overgrown and faded into
significance of messages and meaning
of rays and days going by and moving on
And nights of course with moon and
stars abiding wheels of life’s abundance
The window graced with murky shades
of innocence where a young man had written
‘I love you’ into a heartfelt arrowed heart
The frame of recollection held the pane
in fading colours like a rainbow on the wane
Distressed wood weather beaten yet
many layers of green and red and yellow
sing the blues of long forgotten journeys
Flaking pealing retreating and still appealing
to nostalgia and loving longing contemplation
What once was stark from mighty strokes
brushing over knots where branches twisted
have retreated to embrace a new beginning
Holes in the door reveal a vessel still with oars
one holds a violet rose in innocence and love
The seasons have moved the man-made paint
towards new adventures where winds of change
have waited on the surfaces caressed by storms
How much I’m deeply touched by ageing shine only
the boat house knows as I speak to it in sandy whispers
It answers ‘Please don’t cover up my codes of beauty
Do not coat another overlay of glossy lamination
Let the elements take over because they know for sure'
05th October 2018
John turns a deaf ear
To the noise from next door
Yelling and fury,
A woman’s screams nearly raw.
John knows it will stop,
Returning the peace of his night
Why doesn’t she leave him?
He is sick of their fights.
John flicks on the tv,
Surfs through to the news
Chlorine gassed babies;
He thinks, well that’s what they choose.
John changes the channel,
A Nigerian village was slain,
At home a crowd watch
A man beaten with chain.
John gives a loud yawn,
Decides to stroll to the shops
The noise from next door
Has finally stopped.
Round the corner a man lies
Groaning in vomit
John glides right past him
Without even a comment.
Two lads loudly laughing
Passing one phone
One smugly skiting
It’s a trophy of “Joan”.
There’s a man with a gun
Clearly robbing the store
John changes his stride
John walks right past the door.
John’s blind to these problems
Not his remedy to do
Who is this John Doe?
Is this man you?
She was not yet five, chocolate brown eyes
Wide in curious observation but internally shielded
Lashes acting like bars keeping danger out, secrets in.
But one shared love of Barney and hands joined, defenses yielded.
Hungry for love like a starved, beaten pup
Afraid that the ones offering it would take it away
But loving her was easy like the silly tales she spun
And my heart swelled in pregnant pulchritude each day.
Being different isn't easy, it takes a special kind of strength
That boldly dares the bigot to take their strongest swings
She was stronger still, carrying barbs open wounds
But loving in the way humanity brings.
A woman now, and beautiful of face and heart and soul
I love her fiercely with all I have within
She is my daughter born of my heart, not born from in my loins
But the blessing is she's grown to be my friend.
I saw in her eyes the sallowness of festered love.
My drum had beaten to the resonance of celebration,
Of the deeds of love evaluation.
Her art bemuses me, especially when spoken and
Sketched to the rhythms of assayed hollowness –
Mottled balances echo silently on withered spots,
And the words she cherishes lie way below frontiers of enchantment.
How short my éclat reigned!
And my blood congealed!
Do I lay prostrate to hypoxia?
If I could borrow a leaf from her, I trust it would be the leaf of Love.
And on the edge of skewered times, I would lend the fit of
Pyrokinesis, cauterizing the inclement weather of her deception.
There’s that culture shock which love carries.
It kills and maims, yet lays crusts of veneer on one’s
Premeditated ego, pointing skyward like the finial of
Root-pannelled structure of breathless architecture.
My heart aches to the illusion of several months borne
Through the whim of my angel.
I wake on the brim of her nose.
Her eyes are grey and distant.
Rust besieges her hair with sliced threads of extended harvests.
I level up to her art with a hamster tied to the loose
Slivers of bamboo elements – with a repast so heartlessly
Soured by the sun.
I lean beneath her iron door, long loosened by the courage
Of assembled art.
My heart bleeds.
She lied to me.
As slimy as the mucilage of the okra,
I have shed genuine light of her hidden treasure.
And on a dark, vengeful night on the corridors of April,
Saturn, spinning her icy rings, revealed much.
And her love, deep and garish, traces peregrinations of
A hunter’s search through wooded paths, rain-drenched and musty.
From the shebeen to the sacristy.
The village church bell peals to the beat of my heart – a heart so deceived.
The gloom, structured in gossamer, binds me, haunts me.
Red banners of camwood yield to the moist of invaded space,
Tenebrous, and soused with the tears of a fallen roof.
Flaking tongues of prurient monsters lick my toes in noisy flicks....
God, where have I been?
he was trans;
his parents kicked him out
stopped loving him
empathetic strangers took him in
she was ostracized,
bullied by classmates and her family
because she was gay
someone who believes in diversity gave her a home
they were beaten almost to death
people debated whether it was a hate crime or not
they were hospitalized for three weeks each
outlaws ourselves, we included them in our community
Empathy is not only for friends
We are all diverse; it is the way of the world
Inclusion is the tough one
Please open your heart and include everyone
Love is the reason we are here
TRUTH walked back in, to a room,
Taking back what had been stolen
by a soul of unbelief
Her eyes caught sight of a baby
Cast under a table as a beaten rod
by the woman ridden with unbearable grief
TRUTH rushed to pick her up
As she demanded the woman, stop
etching beautiful lies in the baby's skin
As TRUTH inquired of baby's journey
The woman sat with disconnected scorn
at the TRUTH she had shunned and the accusations taken in
As the baby poured out her truth
She pulled away from a warm embrace
like a thirsty tongue resisting fire
The fire heated to the highest degree
Leaped from TRUTH's heart into baby's core
Worthy are you, my accepted by LOVE daughter
............be held
and
..................be healed
Written by Trudy Schrader on 12-02-2021