Long Breakage Poems
Long Breakage Poems. Below are the most popular long Breakage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breakage poems by poem length and keyword.
There is a certain pride in my heart,
Deep in the gut of my soul,
And in every moving cell working for the other
That preaches and presses in a padded jail
Where no other living soul can hear
Treasurable, valuable words being uttered
With conviction and every golden verdict
It is a silent pride, and a sad one at times,
Longing to be heard, though it cannot reveal
Longing to be shared with a parched mind
That can only reveal itself through the continual
Ritual of living each day
I want to share with utter integrity and light,
With a full heart, to activate the gentle expansion
Of freeing, outstretched wings
You cannot listen to these truths I scream
Because I am closed away by this pride,
My cognizance and cruel prudence imprisons me,
And at times I am happily bound
This pride, this opulent air of knowing
Restlessly deepens within
It seeps deeper inside,
Because I doubt any will quite understand
And appreciate
Through the lens of pure honesty
This pride is fearful and selfish
We do not want to be seen as a fool
I want these confessions to feel
Omnipotent, and apart from my emotions
Pure honesty reminds me
That without emotions, without feeling…
This knowledge, this enlightenment
Cannot be expressed
Unless fear, cramping the soul
Leaves this prison
If love eases breakage to flow into tender ears
To compassionate minds,
And perceptive hearts
"Futile Fragments" ( A collaboration~ Linda-Marie P.S. sweetheart )
by~ LINDA MARIE *p.s. SWEETHEART
shattered to inner core emotions reside in vogue
as tattered tapestry etches death to vibrant vase
egotistical desires ejected common sense to rogue
fine ... adieu ... departure in the misty vague haze ...
fragmented fragile pieces exploded with destruction
simulation created to ebony volcanic ash
love vacated unceremoniously scans of interruption
emotions sustain tremors of immature backlash ...
enchanting charms reflecting the pain of sheer intense
to resurrect romance is a haunting dream of death
provoking passions escalate chaos ... havoc ... suspense
suffocation dwelling to captivate life's bated breath ...
bittersweet faded memories succumb to shadowed jest ...
by~ POET D:
Moshing fragments overlooked, a darker dance limitless
conventional Gothic hearings..... praising the sewer that runs
analysis running ticking with the passion of an atomic bomb
the perceived exotic unity of this frightens world~ shadow dust
lashing out tropical grasses and utilities . . . tampering every hell
Burning paper that represents hostile . . . black ashes
results of a detailed creature mourning the abyss
examination of falsification~ fragments that crawl in our inner walls
A poisonous micro-fragment is presented approaching
objective with the exploration of breakage . . . virus. . . patterns
meaning destroying every awakening stage in this bio world *via~ wide
Deep identification losing all Revelations,
Laughing fading away with the criteria formed
must we ~ need us~ crawling in my inner walls. . .
use me ~ need me~ feed me~ critically re-evaluate me . . .
A Collaboration with * Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of Poetry Soup RIP
~A Poet Destroyer COLLABORATION~
High upon the highest heights
I see the most tremulous sight
A small girl, fair and tranquil
Smiling strangely, sitting still
Beneath a sobbing willow tree
She recites a verse upon her knee
She sings a rhythmic hymn
Not of death, nothing grim
But prays that life will return
Even for those who are doomed to burn
The girl is a woman now
Beneath the tree and upon the cloud
She whispers, “I am watching you”
Why then are you so blue?
A single tear of sadness and joy
Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy
Who sits down beneath the blooming tree
Listening to her silent voice attentively
She reminds him she was once young too
That she also was a misty shade of blue
But when the boy grows into man
He has come to ignore the fair woman
Who watches him still from above
Burning and swelling with disdainful love
The ways of the world have sweltered his heart
And time has torn his soul apart
Thus he has lost all innocence and light
Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight!
I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears
Reducing the vigilant woman to tears
The prayer of the innocent has been ignored
Life has died and hellfire stored
Into the hearts of the impotent
In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent
Toiling in misery and lament
Savaged and severed by our regret
The heavenly woman grows old and frail
And the man still treads the sinful trail
As the rotting tree withers into dust
Can I revive it? –I must!
Low as low can possibly be
I watch myself condescendingly
A tombstone, gray and hell-bent
Frowning knowingly in bewilderment
Above the dust that once was a tree
She cries out a verse anxiously
Faintly she whispers the undying hymn
Not of happiness, nothing of whim
And prays that life will come to end
For those that break instead of bend
SUTAIH
H * H
I * I
A * A
T * T
U * U
S * S
And then it unfolded like a zipper that opened
teeth gaping through hollows worse for wear
top stop loosened dichotomy schisms exposed
slider with no way to go crying out for the past
time for perspective and to turn over the page
S * S
U * U
T * T
A * A
I * I
H * H
Am I missing something the aperture?
Should I weigh in with an anagram or
break the interruption suspend the breach
mind the gap right there at the interval?
DEPARTURE
ENRAPTURE
RECAPTURE
CLOSURES
JUNCTURE
HARMONY
Not everything broken needs to be mended
paradigms shift chasm is there for a reason
an open wise person searches new meaning
when things fall apart and repairs breakage
who needs a zipper when needle and thread
play with buttons and rearranges their needs
06th February 2021
Self-esteem is such a fragile vase
Easily shattered by thoughtless words
You can tell by the look upon her face
That the breakage has already occurred
On the verge of becoming a woman
Venturing out into the world on her own
And she is battered by words full of venom
From adults who should better have known
You should build her up and not tear her down
Simply because you envy her for her youth
You’ve already had your night on the town
Don’t destroy her with what you think is truth
The pieces that now lay broken
Are not easily put back into place
You cannot take back words that were spoken
And restore the confidence that you have erased
Allow your child to love herself
And be proud of the vase that she is
Remember your youth and how you once felt
Wanting the confidence to go out and live
By Joe Flach, written for the Picking Up the Broken Pieces Contest
Here It Comes
You never thought it would be like this;
The blaring horror,
The Apocalypse.
Where is reason.
Where is rhyme?
Where now the metronome of Time?
Where now the sense of what is true?
Where the distinction, Black or Blue?
Your shattered senses fall its Force
You seek to draw Best from Worst;
But in the end there is no
Final sense, nor truth -
No distinction between the cares of Age,
The follies of Youth.
This is how it falls apart.
This the breakage of your heart.
This the end of all you knew;
Thus separates the False from True.
This is Chaos,
This the throbbing end -
This the final Truth
My friend.
Island of Fantasy
She sits
an island of fantasy
amid the breakage of the past
adrift in altered visions
wishfully meandering
manic melancholy
Windblown debris masquerades
as fluttering birds
church towers howl
mimics distant train whistle
scrape of swinging metal gate
becomes gleeful shriek of children
scuffling footfalls in the shadows
a lover's coming home
Cool touch of evening rain
cold end to fantasy
she rises
leaves her island
shuffles over broken time
to sit on the edge
of reality.
6/10/2016
submitted to – Island of Fantasy – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Nayda Ivette Negron
What do you do when duct tape won’t fix it?
Y’know, when that “I got this” attitude is shattered
When it’s not things, or stuff, or “errors”
That require the questionable solutions of the “fixer”.
Souls are hard to comprehend and come without service manuals
No graphics or guidelines, no “call this number” bailout.
And yet they fail, suffer breakage, weaken with time
Outlive their expiration dates, idly linger.
Daybreak’s sun rises dimmer and fades to futility
As darkness intrudes into a vacant emptiness.
My tool box is useless, its contents befuddled
By an invisible break, an un-noticed fissure,
The silent slide into a dreaded abyss
Of distance, doubt, disconnection.
I am the duct tape and I cannot fix it
Save to cover my eyes and deny its presence.
In our small community, there was a library surrounded by a playground filled with play equipment for children. There was a large and strong swing set
made of iron. There were also a sliding board and merry-go-round, both large. This swing set was the best, and it was built to last, with no fear of breakage.
Whenever the coast was clear, and if no one chased us off, we'd play for hours. "Coast was clear? What on earth do you mean?". What must be understood is this: In America, I grew up in the 50's and 60's in the rural South. Jim Crow laws were in full force, and that presented a major 'bigger than life' problem that my friends and I had to overcome. There was only one playground in town, and it was for "Whites Only".
However, in this heavy farming community, our playtime was limited and restricted. Because of that, when the 'spirit of playtime' embraced itself around us, we were willing to violate the rules and have fun as long as we could, which usually was a very short duration. It was like flying through the air without wings on childhood aircraft forbidden to us. So many other freedoms that were taken for granted by most kids in America were denied to us; but to play on that vast playground was so much fun and so liberating, that we broke the Southern Rule. I cannot count the many times that we were chased off; but we always went back, again and again.
No. We were not trying to change the world; we just wanted to swing.
No. We were not fighting for civil rights; we just wanted to slide on the boards. We were simply innocent kids, looking for joy rides on the merry-go-round.
If we had a motto, it was not "Let Freedom Ring; but rather, "Let Freedom Swing".
That was over 50 years ago, when Jim Crow was alive and well in America. Now, most people prefer to forget that he ever lived. I choose to remember.*
10192017 Contest, The Sounds Of The Past, Roper; Chosen picture for theme: The Swing Set; 2ndPl;*"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it", John Santayana
To what avail are scriptures etched on stones
If it’s true, we must feel it in our bones”
~ Author Unknown
My first question would be…
Who is it that etched scripture on stone?
Then why is such a distinction made?
Long ago, Jehovah called Moses to the Mount
and carved on two stones divine law for His people.
His covenant involved sacrifice for breakage.
In anger, Moses broke both the law and the stones
shattering revered integrity in anger.
See, God’s people thought Moses was not coming back.
Perhaps God had killed him up there on that mountain.
Brother Aaron had let them shape a golden calf
which they freely worshipped instead of Jehovah.
God Himself engraved those basic Ten Commandments
which bestows a special significance itself.
But the second real distinction came later as
His people realized, man cannot keep God’s law.
What is the next question?
Why must scripture be felt in our bones
More important, what is the truth discerned therein?
The same Jehovah called Jesus Christ to the cross,
conferred forgiveness for lack of obedience.
Jesus’ own words are the truth He came to reveal
when He said, “I am the way, the truth and the life.”
No one can come to the Father except through Christ.
Hear these words from major prophet Ezekiel -
God will remove their hearts of stone and grant them peace;
His spirit will dwell in the hearts of believers. *
Promised Messiah had come, Israel’s King of Kings.
Royal throne, the cross where Jesus was crucified
and thorns were the kingly crown they placed on His head.
His perfect submission, example set for man;
His grace and mercy within us proves His true worth.
John 14:6 and Ezekiel 36:25-28
April 27, 2022
* the scripture from Ezekiel 36:26-28
"A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do them. And ye shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers; and ye shall be my people, and I will be your God."