Long Childlike Poems
Long Childlike Poems. Below are the most popular long Childlike by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Childlike poems by poem length and keyword.
She wanted to go back
to the place that expelled her-
Octopode ink on a birth certificate.
Black smoke, not blue,
Dark smatter hid from view
Pale pink sunrise
Baby blue skies...
It rained the day she cried,
newborn, still womb warm.
Instinct to live no option.
No yes and no gut feeling reply.
She needs to go back
to the genesis of needs and wants,
the whole body experience
takes up space in the air
we breathe without a care.
Approval sidelined in attachment style
ghosts the childlike grab and clutch.
Love not cut from cuddle cloth.
As years sidled by, she realized
this was all it was afterall-
her life wrapped up in swaddle
soft as spider's silk.
Organic web of sticky lies
held tricky truths stuck
firmly in disguise.
It's become time to cut the chords that bind.
Engine heart thuds in the hull,
Picks up pace, sounds push survival surge,
Mindful design is on the move.
Doused in drowze, piled up permafrost
covers, smothers, preserves, impacts
a heart petrified by spider's bite.
There is no future being hidden
from her own blinded sight.
It still rains on and off-
cloud cover in between climactic chaos
and sometimes normal weather.
Patterns of desperate needs uncover
pros and cons divide each other.
The emptied womb is no longer
a warm and welcoming vessel.
Gone forever, what's over are leftovers
not fit to feed future expansion.
She commands her craft to unberth-
Driving force a desire to disconnect
from dissonance docked in moving goalposts.
Truth breaks the trauma bond, false hopes.
There's no future in future faking.
The present is full of deliberation.
It's truly now,
or truly never.
The past is not on her horizon forever.
Posted December 31, 2023.
I stand ant hill small,
beneath the shattered American dream,
while schemes of mad men fill their pockets,
(with my soul.)
Endless coffee shops and sidewalk satire,
I stand guarded against lidded, lying eyes,
obvious intentions, sugar coated smiles.
(You could at least pretend.)
A portrait in prose, single tear obliterating happiness.
Mind left behind in shackled sadness, sleep is never.
Bending backward, breaking, mind snap.
(Or was that yesterday?)
Fear swims shark circles, stalking tomorrows promise of
happiness. Wishing for childlike splendor spent frivolous.
When paper hearts were art, and your home was your castle.
(Once upon a time.)
I confess that as a child the ruthless caused me
crippling pain with deeply wounding words and
bodily attacks that led me to falter through life.
I confess that various family member’s inflicted
incessant cruel criticisms that wholly damaged
my character leaving a soul shattered in shame!
I confess that all of these hypercritical people
painted me with a dark psyche and their evil
assumptions resulted in an imprisoned stigma.
I confess that during childhood the intolerant
labels of shy, odd and withdrawn caused me to
be ostracized while living in utter humiliation.
I confess that I pray every day to be set free from
the shackles they’ve built all around me, leading to
my many missteps for which I beg for compassion.
I confess that in elementary school, my hands were hit
until they bled for laughing. Then my father punched me
in the face for laughing destroying any possibility of joy.
I confess to having fast and frequent flashes of the
details of the horrors committed against me causing
doubt of whether I blacked out during the worst of it.
I confess to being stuck in my adolescence probably
between 6 and 12 yrs. old and can’t remove myself
from that timeline, so, I plead, how do I move on?
I confess that I’m a contrite and lowly spirit,
with innate hopes as a child of God that His
eyes will only see a gentle and broken spirit.
I confess that my brokenness is impossible to
mend due to the atrocities inflicted. I tried to be
silent for so long drowning in unspeakable hurt.
I confess to never evolving as an adult due to
severe childhood trauma, and as such, it is
necessary to speak to me as if I were a Child!
I confess to praying most urgently for the wicked
to cease from inflicting unbearable anguish on
God’s frail ones according His Word:
“Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to
sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung
around his neck and he were thrown into the sea.” Mark 9:42.
What is in the glow of a moonless night?
Drops of sadness on shattered glass,
Blinding blankness in a clandestine plight
Or a pretty orphan girl, alas.
She sways along the roads, so bright
She wears the sunshine and the rain,
She cries when the street-dogs fight
She has no worries, no one to blame.
What is in the strand of a bald man's hair?
Stains of sin on a crumpled shirt,
Questions meandering like a murderer's dare
Or a pretty orphan girl's dirt.
She swoons between heels of fame,
She smiles through cigarette smoke,
She applauds this perfidious game,
She gets raped, a random bloke.
What is in the noise of a fly on a corpse?
Lumps of shame on a naked canvas,
Innocence lost with childlike remorse,
Or a pretty orphan girl, Cassandra's.
She listened to the dimming of the holy light,
She searched for angels in a forlorn place
She drank her tears to honour her might,
They orphaned too, her pretty face.
Grey dawn was retreating from my
Front gate.
I looked upon its obvious distress;
And, slinking away as the new day
Breaks...
Its all too apparent old weariness.
What strange compunction pulls on
Us to pause
At the sudden insistence of a whim?
This, which, seemingly, without any
Cause,
Rising upwards from very deep within;
Would I have tarried but too long a
While
I feared I might undo the fragile spell...
But in that brief moment was
Reconciled --
With childlike innocence where
Wonder dwells!
And God forbid that time should
Undermine...
All that constitutes a receptive
Mind.
CHAGALL EKPHRASIS
A fantasist,alive upon canvas,surreal
and yet..so very real his love-for her-
not concealed.There..floating for all
to see..childlike, innocence his lady
in white,for us to wonder..and delight
Inspired by Chagall’s ‘Lady in White’
KLIMT EKPHRASIS
A kiss,Klimt’s symbol of love nouveau,
suggestive rather than descriptive,yet
of time immemorial.Love upon a cloud
of gold,lost in that moment where time
does not exist.One with the other,alone
and yet..desire..and need in love’s power
then to exist.
Inspired by Klimt’s ‘The Kiss’
Listen to me recite these ekphrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro
Waking up at morn, before thoughts arise,
when dawn drifts into enchanted meadows,
our soul delights in God’s offered surprise,
as lotus of pure love, within heart grows.
Presence both immanent and transcendent,
bilocating between form and vast space,
is head to toe, fully bliss resplendent,
breath by breath gently imbibing God’s grace.
Stretching time thus, in the in between stage,
we paint rainbows in the sky of our mind,
as with music of the spheres, we engage,
conjuring a soft rhythm, divine aligned.
Heart the fulcrum, from where we operate,
all nodes within, in childlike joy gyrate.
5
Under those wild blue skies.
Her favorite fruit was chocolate
covered cherries.
As the skies fell somewhere in time.
He knew she came from the heavens.
To be dropped into his arms alone.
He always loved the way the juice
dripped off her plump red lips.
As he caught the drops on his tongue.
Capturing some unknown secrets.
As he licked her juicy red lips.
She felt the thrust of his lust in her.
He so loved that childlike wonder in her.
As he looked into her dreamy eyes.
The stars make love to the universe.
As the skies of blue drift over time.
The night stars formed a mystery.
They were full of love, beauty, and lies.
9/30/ 2013
A blank space
Unkempt
Overgrown
But, so full of happiness and future
With the nurturing that only time can bring
Change, new and innocent
Full of wonder and inexperience-
Almost childlike in nature,
Springs up slowly because of attention and patience-
As knowledge leads to a wisdom that only experience and maturation bring,
The ups and downs of continual trial and error
Erode the possibility devotion and hard work once brought about
Dry dusty earth is what is left of soil,
Once so dark and rich.
Birds chirp and flock about no longer
Squirrels do not feel welcomed
Those who once shared time and space peacefully,
Now find themselves caught up in a silent war
Full of stares that try unsuccessfully to hide confusion, sadness, and dispair
As the once beautiful garden is now, sadly, lifeless at best,
Struggling, all the while, to hold on.
How unappealing... the missus went bananas
courtesy hurling mandarin oranges.
Yes quite juvenile
unladylike childlike behaviour,
mine wife oft times doth display,
I do not deplore
yours truly reckons
tis futile effort causing furore
aye attest bull
in china shop incorrigible hardcore
exhibited by spouse
out of bounds antics bon jour
earlier within marriage
shenanigans twas the stuff
back in the day
sparking altercations, haint no lore
regarding wedded bliss
muddle aged doozy storied
married couple expressing
mutual love nevermore
did deux disparate
birds of a feather flock together
espousing total mortal kombat
(with looming fruity weapon
of mass destruction
living below poverty dirt poor
surviving (barely) hand to mouth
unable to afford
top of line high grade
clean atomic bombs rapport
re: ruining our reputation
as hoity toity main liners
portraying child's play
conflicts in East/West Timor
almost annihilating each other
i.e. zee Harris family
plus well nigh turning
planet Earth into vapour.
Sober realization of brinksmanship
brought now auld
geezers (defanged & harmless)
flinging foodstuffs cold
and/or frozen leftovers
(carbon dated), petrified extolled
as delicacy among Neanderthals,
who would value and
cherish fruit lobbed as
love's labour's lost more precious
(as a physical expression of affection)
more so than fine spun gold
thee rented man cave serves
atavistic trait hard rock cafe
functions as pleasant reminder,
where one percent genetic
stock originated (think noggin
rock hard iron maiden mold).
Backtrack to years spanning 2000-2010
wen furious red hot poker rage
twas unmanageable when living
under duress within Penn Valley
even tranquilizers could not assuage
harkening back when yours truly
under threat courtesy battle ax
and her henchwomen,
which matriarch took immediate dislike,
née rabid (foaming
at the mouth loathing)
towards yours truly
them days outright state
of undeclared warfare
found fury within me
exceeding the wrath of Kong!
Thank dog, I mellowed since then
gratuity prescription medication.