Long Bricked Poems
Long Bricked Poems. Below are the most popular long Bricked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bricked poems by poem length and keyword.
I feel like I’m on the verge of awake
Yet I’m sure I’m still sleeping
Inside my mind all these thoughts
continually keep creeping
Within the mortar of my bricked mind
I feel the darkness seeping
The pain of this secret I’m keeping
You need me to stay strong for us
But I can barely hold back my own weeping
All my memories are left unsaid
I float through each day
Fog filling my mind from morning till bed
This pain inside me begs to be fed
The colour of my heart is black now instead of red
Why I ask why is our child dead?
I want to reach out to something someone
it’s way too hard here inside my head
With pain I am now wed
too much hurt remains unsaid
I know you can hear the silence
It screams out consistently loud
Remembering him every day
all those things that made us proud
In my chest I feel my heart burn and pound
Empty has its own sickening sound
What we are looking for can’t be found
Thoughts in loops going round and round
Not even in a bottle can these thoughts be drowned
I know you don’t want others to know
You bury your feelings
not wanting them to show
But inside of you I watch the pain grow
You pretend to be steady
but it is eating you slow
Every inch of you consumed
from head to toe
Like a boat tossed to and fro
I want to help but you won’t let me row.
Dedicated to a friend who knows an unimaginable pain.
Jokes passed around in my car…
Sure went very far…left me with a scar…
Maybe I’ll be His unique, brilliant star…
It’s awesome that I’m a daydreamer thus far…
I’m like a prowling lion, waiting for its prey – RAWR!
I’m like the lowest of the lowest bar…arrrrr!
I’m just as bizarre
As a pirate in his ship that’s about to be at war –
ARRRRRRRGH!
ARR maties! The other pirates laugh – HAR HAR HAR!
I’m so crazy, still wondering where you are…
You…are…in this heart of stone…a heart that is the color of tar…
But, together, we are extra courageous
We are like a soccer team – hell, if I knew about the fuss (meaning: if I followed sports, then I’d supposedly be “a normal boy”)
We are like wealthy individuals – wow, very luxurious!
If only my siblings and I didn’t cuss – we always do…mhm! YUS!
I’m feeling uncomfortable in my skin right now
If I were comfortable in my shoes – since I’m not – how would I be like?
I’m like my dog when I walk him – he goes in opposite directions…somehow…
I can never understand anyone in the first place…I drift off into my own mindset and I get awfully upset afterwards – words are words and they are only temporary (they flutter and flutter in my mind like a billion birds)…not to mention the fact that we’re not on the same page…we went our separate ways and I sit here in silent rage…I’m like a bike that runs into a bricked wall – I’m all wrecked-up, but I’m feeling His healing hands on my shoulder, assuring me that everything is fine and dandy…I’m like-like-like…
The light and dark side of me: BIZARRE!!!
Jinx.
XD - this poem is dedicated to the weirdest Gemini side of me...ain't it strange? Please leave a comment below (: Thank you!
It seems, I much prefer my dreams
though times of consequence pass fleetingly.
It seems, I know while in those very dreams
of all that passes in between.
Matching my realities to messages
left within the ‘seems’ of fear and fantasy and light
of the umbilicus cord which snaps when I’m affright.
Yes, I’d say it often seems,
I’m so a home when wrestling with my dreams.
The I sees “I” , and oft compresses screams
Munch-like in hues of blue and green
on bridges to the nowhere and in-betweens,
ear-covering, muffling, silent screams.
Mesmerized, am I, by what can be,
reality dissolves within the ever-after seams.
Clocks melt, trees morph to faces, Dali emotes
tattle-tailing signs that float on reels
in rooms off kilter, windows bricked without.
Can you hear me?
Can I hear me, shout?
I’m right here, I just asleep
Please let me out!
I love the gentle snowflakes falling
floating down from the sky like feathers
drifting, twirling, dancing, whirling and prancing
blanketing my city magical white
I was born into snow
the wind howling through the trees like banshees
city drifts and cars slipping
I arrived a snow child
I like to stroll the city streets
as magical snow changes downtown
pigeons hover on the ledges
folding their wings together
Ottawa steeped in history
the buildings are old and beautiful
gray bricked, elegant and sturdy
many homes Victorians
My city boasts of many winding trails
but nothing is more amazing than in winter
a crisp, walk among sleeping trees
oh, love hiking past a frozen stream that still ripples
I have creaking rooms in an old city building
outside my window trees in all seasons are my view
but winter snow falling on my city stirs my soul
I can hear my beloved snow calling me
come, come, come outside my love
“In Love with an Android”
Do you remember Love?
...before dendrites became slaves
strung up on electron pathways
and hearts were tied in knots
tic tac toe
binary became
the rot we played
on artificial pathways
Android rooting
slid easily
into Jailbreaking
Passwords were captured and swapped ?
You said, “I’m Hot”,
Siri cooed, “Apple, open access, byte”
You whispered, “Was it good for you tonight?”
Siri cooed,
“Baby, you’re so uncool -
I’m in control, let’s progress to Code Blue”
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/AjI2J2SQ528
Björk - All is Full of Love
"“What use was time to those who'd soon achieve Digital Immortality?”
“By far the greatest danger of Artificial Intelligence is that people conclude too early that they understand it.”
“Rooting is the Android equivalent of jailbreaking, a means of unlocking the operating system so you can install unapproved apps, deleted unwanted bloatware, update the OS, replace the firmware, overclock (or underclock) the processor, customize anything and so on. Of course, for the average user, this sounds like -- and can be -- a scary process. After all, "rooting" around in your smartphone's core software might seem like a recipe for disaster. One wrong move and you could end up with bricked handset.”
https://youtu.be/1VWex7z5POk
SIRI FINALLY ANSWERS ULTIMATE Dirty FLIRTING Questions
https://youtu.be/CqaAs_3azSs
LORN - ANVIL
n.b. Remember to close the Pod Bay doors.
By Jove...Zeus cleft Eos tacit alibi
pact wrought since time
immemorial bye and bye
temporarily, symbolically,
and unwaveringly
superstitions, phenomenal mysteries
jaw dropping eve vents out of sky
explained where within fie
foo fighting mythological
pantheon, the dualistic forces
of light and dark
didst die whar,
yours truly did e'er lee ask why,
and simultaneously warily eye,
whence no idea why
aboot twelve hours prior,
predictable regular
tug of war try
ensued, when twilight didst sigh
leant lee enshroud
the dusky sky
light speedily seeped away,
hence nightly raiment
of Astraeus predictably quashed,
nee wrested with nary a cry
this September twenty ninth,
unusual wakefulness state
crafted golden opportunity
didst nudge me fort hoo try
to maximize spate of bright
tailed and bushy eyed,
state, which rare
quotidian event, I
unfortunately rarely espy,
cuz my circadian rhythm
usually well nigh
finds me sound asleep at least
til mid morning this guy,
thus flush with more
energy than usual aye
make a feeble (minded) attempt
to nudge, kickstart, and coalesce,
viz nebulous thoughts within my
fog enshrouded noggin
unable, unaccustomed,
and unwillingness
relented for me to pry
opened tightly shut – cubed bricked
hermetically sealed
steel trap eyelids
ocular orbs didst defy
Herculean dramatic attempt
yielded futile tussle,
where outcome brought
stellar surprise high
hoe, a spectacular dawn
scene rarely seen by this guy.
households lurch
creak unmoored
hulls rocking
the twang of whip lashed rigging
as electric wires stretch
pull up clods
yards of plantings
where once roots clutched
bricked-up aluminum
long jacked-up boards
swirl and bloat
bed-springs shiver off
unwinding sheets
the dumbfounded foaming
of absconding pillows
bedrooms fall out
of plunging submarines
chests and draws
shedding a put away sundry
then the roll and billow
baffle and muddle
the face-up exposure
of everyday innards
sweeps by
riding the backbones
of the up-turned
the bowled over
hard to fathom
that a river of storm clouds
could move all this
manifold clutter
the cheesy and cherished
dumping down clumps
into wet clay models
of any new address
The concrete and plastic, chrome domed
bricked up auditorIum rang
like a hollow bell,
a meager few red skins circle the stadium seats
like smoke from a mythical “peace” pipe
ragged, distilled, diluted, distraught, “dised”
A 21st century ablution of angst.
Round shoulders meet, sidelong glances;
old and young form for dances.
All semblance of nature betrayed
by polyester tassels and cheap Crayola yarn fringe,
a sneakers and moccasins mix,
only the whistle-drum, and sage smoke sanctifies.
Circles form, crouching over polyurethane floors
silver hair, braids and hands harden; they bear,
bore the “dis” missive, disdain,
the balm of music eased all the pain.
Round shoulders meet, sidelong glances;
old and young form for dances.
The roof “dis” appears becomes the night sky
air vibrates with the heart thumping of stick on skin,
and so WE, the PEOPLE begin.
Chants warm the taunt throats of man;
a whistle trills the coyotes howl.
Heartbeat sings a drum song,
bowed and bent the circle dancers form.
Stomp, twirl, braids a whirl, winged dancers rattle and bell.
Mans peacock form no longer forlorn rises above the well.
Chant the tell tale heart,
the sorrow the joy, drum thumpers hatchets fall
on the neck of a starry night.
Drum and dance invite…..
scream,….soul song, smoke dream,
eyes daze in a reverent scheme.
Like a penny, lost and worthless, woman
mother, and buried within the origin pit, dark
she brought me like a Jezebel into her life of mourning
mistress of the stage and child to horror
born, and off he ran, forced flight my father, loss
the hussy dies but on Edgar lives in awe.
Blood and death and pain feed Poe’s awe.
Why she had done, what soul had she, this woman
leaving him a found fledgling of loss?
“Why, why, bring me into this hellish dark?”
Coal black the pit and pendulum of this zealot father’s horror
the devil’s drink brought penitence and forced, mourning.
“Bastard child!” his stepfather screamed in mourning
as his new Mother looked on in awe.
And, his new brother watched on in horror,
the lash was not spared nor kindness brought by woman.
In the starkness of his mind there was only dark.
Abandoned child, Poe, and his rescuers brought only loss.
“Run, leave, you villains all!” He cried. “There is only loss!”
So on, he wrote into the dark and mourning.
The ink the Prussian blue released the anguish his dark.
Intuition, and superstitious fright will feed him awe.
Cousin, sister, wife, would be his woman
the banshees cry, her bloody death became his horror.
“Alone, alone…” The corbies’s caw brings horror,
but for the devil’s drink, he’s naught but loss........
“Lenore…..” He’ll wall his tainted heart away from woman
and make his blasted soul the start of mourning.
“To hell with you!” He screams at those in awe
of his blank and burned out hulk of dark.
Bricked in or deep within the ripest dark...
“God, so alone……….” He hides in horror,
forlorn, depraved and not at all in awe.
For there is no romance found in loss
no beauteous bounty in the dross of mourning,
no family, friend or wife not tainted, born from woman.
So, Poe lives and dies in awe of the dark.
Where woman’s deepest depths bring only horror
and loss is all he knows in light of mourning.
Some Glimpses of childhood Memories
The town where I grew up seems much the same
Its many features yet retained
Still central fountain that caresses the sky
Its hazy droplets against the winter dregs of sun
Gone, the regiment of poplars that shaded the green
Gone their sinewy boughs that claimed the bright
And at the head a red bricked hall
That governs and oversees it all
New Morrisons nestles to one side
A steady human trickle to color its doors
I lived at Campers Road where terraced housing still exists
A council house domain when in its prime
I poked sticks in pavement tar with fascination
And wondered about its composition
The chalked insult scrawled upon the path
Removed by soapy water enforced by parent
Written because she rode her bike across our yard
Its final remnants ‘Mrs Knot is a snot’ now fully gone
The same old store stands across the narrow
Where handy for forgotten items to obtain
But gone the candy shop beside
And in its place a show of artefacts to see and buy
No more the jar line up of colored sweets
To tempt wide eyed children into its confines
Across the road a spinney existed
Where entangled undergrowth harbored climbing trees
And in the center the finest enchanted tree
Spread its woody arms in welcoming pose
Sap glistened from its spiral hollows
While light between the parted clouds alighted on its verdant leaves
Now further to brave a walk beyond the hump backed bridge
Where swings abound in a field
And I could see above the clouds
And flee to other worlds afar.
And dream of what was to become
Across the town exists the pits
Where flooded lakes mask dug out holes
And there to while the day by azure blue
To watch the ripples embrace the skeletal crane
Corroded wreck that bore the deluge