Long Blackout Poems
Long Blackout Poems. Below are the most popular long Blackout by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blackout poems by poem length and keyword.
Glass shattered Saturday afternoon tea for S I L E N C E
holding steady raven momentum for its own r i p p i n g
fire from heartbeat slashes its void to tumble wounds of
wisdom weeping slow dirty tears of biting burns inserting
into wordless flesh of waiting before window panes were
smashed with stone docile ornaments, rampant afternoon
unvoiced holding a blank white canvas for dripping
bookshelves tumbled, poems torn to sheds, laundry strewn
with glass splinters as lead, aphonics slithering into dried out
stewpot waiting for maniacal tsunami to cremate emotions
tweezer them from dna soiled in possessive prisons ridiculed
Divinity spoke in all pervasive silence on testing timeline taut
holding breath to His nostrils imbibing a billion frequencies
I chose to brave open His serene lips for unutterable L O V E
lashes He crafted brushed breathy implicits with assent
for missions of courage traversed embracing solitude
observed in stillness whilst across eerie forest moss
carpets I deciphered “They Don’t Care about Us”
hush self wears a daisy cloak from heavenly dew fields
luminosity unzips not as lies hop chaotic across
spiderwebs it can chameleon transmute into gentle
streams to soothe that which hides for right timing
~ first bud of white rose birthing delicacy or benign
waters over pebble backdrop quietude
biscuit baker feeds jealousy, deceit, shame, guilt, indecision
escapism ~ swampy keys of stagnant quagmires will too utter
her heart’s eclipsed light breaking egoic invisibility as
softly I breathe her shadowed taciturn s t e a l t h
quiet petaling garment breaks open blackout mission
regurgitating quantum memories incubated in beckoning cell
fertility for decades perhaps centuries, marching crusades of
soul conquering ancient lands, majestic mountains, raucous
seas, ports, yellow spices, when women with babes gagged
anguished longing for men to taste their honey in serenity
hot crusted bread speaking truths of labouring backs bent
cows chewing cherrywood cuds ~ what could be a more
knowing t r a n q u i l i t y ?
now wafered soundlessness is lamb yet diamond piercing
raw, a lark offers sotto tones as harmony cupped in two
musing wings to ascend where it can quintessentially
quiver, hover in expectant repose for another silent mission
Voluntary unconditional surrender woke...,
Viz hitting yours truly,
when yokel egghead doth jinx
whereby ye cannot comprehend figurative
wimpy vainglory, unequivocally, tectonically,
smoldering resentments I stoke,
he doth bare his soul no joke,
no matter insight doth severely challenge
cyber surfing passersby, who attempt
to interpret courtesy
mental torture doth invoke
brutality, difficulty, futility gobbledygook,
heavily taxing your fifty
plus shades of gray
I apologetically, grudgingly (ha),
painstakingly, unwittingly... poke,
when mine broadcast
red by anonymous folk
admittedly poetically trumpeting ambiguity
overlain donned with high falutin cloak
peace be with thee courtesy this bloke.
Electronic date/time stamp permeates
within copious, illustrious,
and porous corpus callosum
hemispheric spongy sinks
mister re: mysterious as Sphinx
validation indubitably backfires
invariably induces loosed
unicellular sized rat finks
cerebral blackout courtesy
one to many drinks,
envision sucker punched by
rockin sockin robots one named
Muhammad Ali t'other Leon Spinks,
or gordian knotted cognitive kinks
bajillion befuddled blinks,
albeit feeble analogy methinks
to render genuine concomitant
convoluted, mangled, twisted... (think
Möbius strip) sentiment
specifically linkedin with
sincere appreciation meant
pertaining to this gent
despite slight trepidation
as faux Geico petsmart agent
forced celibate nun sensical chap
considering entering convent
cloistered existence remaining
days of my life get spent,
where "15 minutes
might save me, not so shabby decent
15% or more on car insurance."
Paraphrase aforementioned Matt Speak
more easily succinctly understood,
versus gibberish as ????????
(i.e. the word Greek spelled in Greek)
essentially long in the tooth fella
self anointed literate sheikh
feeble flattered fungi with
average mushroom shaped physique
trends towards playfulness
in tandem with harmless streak
merely acknowledges how his unique
self expression oft times
tongue-in-cheek
experiences giddiness at unsolicited
positive feedback versus he/she,
who doth bitingly, flagrantly,
outrageously, witheringly... critique
modesty misunderstood equivalent
of poetic (peekaboo) hide and seek
to Dani body hook ken find me
game to reveal me re: hide and seek.
Intellectual progress with thee
beyond this, that, here or even there
of matter within what color, shape, size, weight, etc
All in all, we started with for example if you were to use a pencil or a pen, marker, etc. Indefinitely once that utensil is put to a piece of paper.
It begins within a point to draw a line or many lines or a circle, etc
Either way, the lines connect to another and another and another
Since the beginning of time LOVE backward is EVOL, hence vice versa
Did it all start with a point, a dot?
I think I'm tryna prove a point
Not for you, her, him or even them
It's beyond and above all this evil
Living in different people
A born autistic bipolar schizophrenic
But yet I think I know my limits
I'm in a learning process
Yet EVIL backward is LIVE
learn to live without all that evil
Voices never go away yet I try to be civil, I've been at war with myself since birth, I'm so confused with everything but I do know about Love yet I've never been in true Love, Unconditional Love since birth
every day kinda feels cursed
I struggle with what u can't imagine
my voices go from 5 to 100 at once
even famous celebrities voices
Trains, Bangs, Screams daily above all things, I struggle daily yet I need to be here for these kids. I try hard to control my own lurking evil trying to come out for I'm a born psychopath
I'm insane, not crazy, it sometimes drives me crazy but I don't let it come out, my kids need me, what's real and unreal bring me to tears, every day is a struggle I try to stay calm, I don't wanna lose it, I'll blackout and wipe
out an entire house, even a little mouse, some people are just not worth it, I gotta live for my kids. not for all this evil. I gotta break some type of cycle. but I'm on my own, with a million voices every day I struggle with suicidal thoughts but then it goes with a different face, I can't help it but I try, I STILL KNOW HOW TO FORGIVE AND LOVE, if I can do it you can do it. Evil and love don't sound right, but every day. live and evolve, live and love, evil and live don't really belong together but backward is more sensible. I could lose my mind any dam time, Dementia is in my future, Blessed to be alive this long, then again I'm barely learning to live without so much evil yet I'm filled with so much love I gotta move and move to spread more love
Effortlessly now as we battle the darkest battle with those known as the greatest powers
The race is not won by the stronger or swifter, have you ever heard of the one who is called The Deliverer
God has handed the poor man a plot out of poverty, And He has heard the cry of the widow
And the young girl who cries out for vengeance, an Angel tells her, it is the Lord who fights your enemies
So before you come to This place swollen with pride and drunken on your plans for my future misery
Disguised is a blue ninja inside these pictured and captured memories
Defiantly freed for a lifetime and completely treating this as a matter of discretion
Undeserving of nothing, worthy friends are not really what I call my friends at all its unlikely
Because their boast of loyalty is like false fronts and I come up behind them and say why even comment
For it is your words that betray you and despite the lip service that you give me when you preach to me forgiveness
It is not my way to condemn you as judges do when they sentence you for the rest of your lifetime in hell
No I’m like come to a conclusion do away with your false views of me
Land on this solid ground step away from that place all they’ll do is sacrifice you to save themselves
A wrath has descended like storms of destruction the forces are darker than lights when they blackout
The forest is creeping with every creature that is pulled into a place of safety and hiding
Broken arrowheads poisoned with venom are crying out all I need now is a target
Sonic boom sound breaker is broken and long forgotten frozen and composed in music that throws it
Children here the voice of reason, Men are full of deceit and crafty because they are from the devil
Teachers please come and listen for you will teach well after you hear the voice of the Master
Beware! Take heed do not be greedy for a mans life is not consisted of material possessions
By your patience possess your souls, It is expedient that I leave you and go to be with the Father
Because then I will send you the Spirit of comfort and he will bring all these things into remembrance
Lo I am with you all the way to the ends of the earth, and be watchful because no one knows the hour
Not me nor the Angels in Heaven, that time is only known by the Father
And when I say Watch, WATCH! Because I come as a thief in the night!
Soaring like a bald eagle.
Regal the idea but its just,
a crow carrying stale bread.
An Invisible phantom, fathoms.
As though you were dead
But in my defenselessness
Think Try, Try Again
A seamless definition of insanity
Slurring’s of drunken profanity
not even fair, a novel without a hero
Sorry, for the digressing Nero.
The fearful darkness unharnessed
Apologies of bare assessment,
tolerable for living in a basement.
But thoughts of being, accused of murder.
Waking with no deadeye.
Whys are redundant?
Starring in your own calamitous whodunit.
A sobering promise, of never to do that again,
while the grey is washed away by the black.
Everyone Surrounds
1998
They gathered around the cake like hogs
at a watering hole. It sat in front of The You
that had been dyeing grey. But today you
painted over yourself in yellows that burst
from the chest. The candles glow against
your shadow, and you used to count the candles
like a chalked tally for every year
that brought you closer and closer
to the something you’ve been waiting for.
But everything has been slowing down.
2000
You used to blow out the candles
and imagine a part of you got lost
in the smoke that curled
and hung above their heads.
But now you inhale—
to take your last breath
of your former self
and blow it all away.
“Happy Birthday!”
“Things will get better!” they say.
2004
You remembered the sound of your voice
that hammered against the walls of a tin can
when you were young. Now it’s sealed
and stored on a shelf in a grocery store.
Next year, it’ll be priced at $3.99
So you get your can opener, pierce the can,
press it to your lips and swallow the preserved
chunks of You that you’ve been trying to get back.
And they shout, “Chug! Chug! Chug!”
While you wish for a blackout
that will bring you back to last year.
2010
You’re twenty eight
now,
and next you’ll be thirty.
Everyone surrounds,
arms around
your shoulders
with smiles
and teeth
and breath
in your ears.
You got lost
again
in memories
of tourniquet
rainbow swirls
of wax
2012
When did it become seventeen candles
too many
Now we just use those big numerical
ones
Lazy. A jumbo three paired with a jumbo
zero
Two candles pretending to be
thirty
2015
You began to slide down the bell curve
of life at seventeen
but you lied to yourself at twenty one,
believing you were
on the come up.
But remember
to smile, because they’re all watching you now,
be happy,
they’re here for you,
be happy,
you were born
some odd years ago,
and now it’s time to count the candles.
Blow them out and escape through
the smoke
that rises
through
the dark
tea room
2019
They’re burning higher now,
It’s getting louder
now.
Everyone
surrounds,
everyone.
Twas the night of the Ladies League Final and the atmosphere was tense
Only two teams were competing, no loyalties allowed on the fence
There could only be one winner, the team with strongest will
And if you lost you were losers, and losing meant you were swill!
The teams were made up of eight players, all with an aim straight and true
Each woman stood there determined and each with their own point of view
Still arguments were frequent and blood was often shed
Only last week Blackout Bertha got smacked in the gob, now she’s dead!
The marker called all to order, and with a toss of a coin they were off
The Fiddler and Firkham Ladies verses the Wenches from ‘Th’owd Pig N Trough’
The Captain of the Firkham was called upon to name
the player who was starting this dangerously ill fated game.
She shouted ‘Hot Legs Hilda - will play for the Firkham pride’
she was the one who’d smacked Bertha, you know, the lass that had died!
Well ripples ran though the public and scowls came across from the Trough
But they sent out their best in ‘Fat Freida’ and suddenly the game was off!
Hilda set a steady pace, with a one and a two, double three
As she stepped back off the hockey she gave Frieda a stab in the knee
But Freida was not to be mithered she went one, double two, double five
And folks sitting round the ale tables thought, ‘We’ll none of us get out alive!’
It was plain to see from the offing that this match was doomed from the start
As each woman rankled the other with poke or cough or a fart!
Eventually the pair of them, understood that the game must be won
And Frieda left Hilda three Arrows – her Captain said, ’This’ll be fun!’
Now Hilda was a psychopath who hated to lose, yes it’s true
But what she did next took all by surprise; it came totally out of the blue
She ambled across to her handbag and pulled out a crossbow of size
And with that she let loose an arrow that hit Frieda right between eyes.
You could have heard a pin drop as Freida lifelessly fell to the floor
As her Captian straddled the bloodied corpse her face took on a look that was sore
She turned to the Firkin’s Captain and said quite resigned and all meek
‘By Heck June not another – Oh well, same time, same place next week??’
LASHES TO ASHES IN SLOW MOTION
Might I please present myself as a prologue to death
Because unless I am terribly wrong…….
I can’t have too terribly long
And I’ve been lazy too long
But I don’t have too long to act crazy
Incredibly and indisputably inane
And drive other people institutionally insane
My days dry up like clay caskets caught in the Cancun sun
Leading to nights that usually end by me ending up with whiskey whisking away yet another weary evening
Witnessed and coerced by two dead soldiers made of glass
Who kicked my ass the night before
When fright came before a blackout
And darkness led to a morning of foul tasting coffee and a donut of doubt
What secret could the night before grasp tightly in its clutch?
Will people say my performance was a bit too much?
Is there a lady somewhere that I wouldn’t recognize if her eyes were made of fire with whom I let desire declare two bodies bare?
And precisely what did she and I share?
Was it something controlled by a lack of control?
Did we meld in mind, body and soul?
Did seduction succeed in its mission to maraud our minds and give making love the meaning it was meant to have?
Is there a lady out there who borrowed a snippet from my life and may have been complicit in the death of a dream?
Did we watch the world fly in fast forward together?
And sometimes in slow motion in order that our time together would be extended by the exclusion of the relativity of time
And a second could sing for as long as it takes a wedding bell’s voice to fade into the hollowness of night
And a minute might meander down the middle of a mercurial moment and remain there until you sigh deeply and chase the stars away for the morning’s sake
And oh to the music of mysticism your countenance is wont to make
Sung by a choir of questions and a chorus of conclusions
While a flute would fleetingly fade into forgotten confusion
Alas, my days decline by death’s design and do more than demoralize me
My only request is that you disregard my genius and charming manner and please don’t memorialize me
Nor commemorate me in any way
Simply cremate me and toss me away!
© 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~
They, them, those people
Are lying, not relying
On God. Lying...
Every time they do
Their wicked deeds,
They blame it on God.
They don't believe in God,
So, the dirty deeds they do,
They pretend it is in
God’s plan.
Once again then you
We’re not listening,
Poets told you to
Protect the children
Those mad scientists
Interfering with nature -
Using their knowledge,
To test God’s virtues.
They use H.A.A.R.P to
Manipulate and
Control the weather,
Now they want to
Hold their breath
And say God did it;
Because you were sinning.
Well nobody believes
In your King James tales.
Who more than black folk
Love Jesus so well.
No one is more true-
Than people of hue.
So why do you
Add insult to injury,
As you oft times do.?
just like "Katrina
You blamed that on God too.
Man, is so smart he can go
To the moon (really)?
Drastically changing weather...
Manipulation with harpoons.
But you can't build a reliable
Dyke in the 21st century.
So, all that was God’s fault?
Why didn't you rescue the people?
Oh, I know, God told you not to.
Lying on God again
Be careful America...
When the food is scarce,
And our seeds are altered,
None to spare.
But we still need clean air and
Clean water: Don't forget, medical
Attention can be withheld.
Why are you still buying;
Fake Gucci, fur coats,
And Korean hair?
Why are you not planting?
And storing or
Preparing for another
Blackout or worse?
Even though you pray and go to church.
Then again you didn't take heed
Ignored the warnings.
So now, blame God and ask God why ...
God why- why you didn't save me?
He’ll then will tell you ...I tried!
I sent a poet to tell you,
But you listened to those
who blamed me, and lied.
You should know that you are
the last people I would hurt.
The wicked ones know
That poets are
The new prophets.
These liars are propelled by
Tricks and greed.
Then a voice said to them...
“If from the poets
you had only taken heed”.
I am God and they lied on me.
If they’ll lie on me, “God said
“What makes you
think they won't lie on you? “
“You had better recognize”
“You had better know it “
God said-
“I sent you a poet"
“I sent you a poet”.
Oh the glory! Of this my story
Upon a colossal, metallic beast
Did I sail, for many a year
Every ocean and sea, seemed the vastness of eternity
My name is Arthur Homer Creed, AKA -“Homie”
Chief Petty Officer, United States Navy
My job, dangerous as it was
Was my one true love.
Director on the flight deck
Of an aircraft carrier
We cruised from Japan to Quebec
The scream of the jet
Was Mozart to my ear,
Adrenaline rush
Newbies full of fear-
But taught them all I did,
To be safe and stay on the grid
To catch a Tomcat became second nature-
And soon, for the novice, a breathtaking adventure.
How I adored the hues of sunset
And the smell of intensity from a jet
Off we sent them,
In the fury of a screaming cat
A hundred miles up they would fly
While we waited to catch them
From a dismissive sky.
“Chief Homie“, my flyboys called me
I was their father, and mentor out to sea
Their only family.
The young ones who were here to serve,
This great battleship,
Only the best did they deserve.
Into ports we swept
Alluring the girls, and scoring some drink,
Then back to the ship we went
Refreshed, relaxed and ready to think.
Onward another month or two we sailed,
18 hours days,
Through high winds and formidable gales.
Then the time came to get serious
There was a threat
The “Old Man” was furious -
F-18’s sent to the Middle East
Dropping bombs
In the name of peace.
Sorties flown day and night,
Blackout ship- we were trying to hide
Manning all battle stations,
This was a defensive action.
Through the bulkhead it came -
Crashing, crushing, killing, exploding
Entire ship, quickly eroding.
This projectile -
Erasing the faces I had known,
My legs, I saw, off were blown-
I grabbed the hatch
To keep
This hell from reaching others,
Up on deck.
Heaving it shut
With all I had left
I got that watertight hatch closed
Then I knew I was dead-
As the water enveloped my head,
I could no longer breathe -
Sea pouring in all around me.
I saved that ship, and those boys
From dying that day-
Or so I suppose,
Because I hear their praises
Sung to me -
In my watery grave,
Under the sea.
A. Green