Long Choked Poems
Long Choked Poems. Below are the most popular long Choked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Choked poems by poem length and keyword.
Deadly sins
1. Strange, I can't recall if I had breakfast yesterday,
I can remember what kind of pollens made you sneeze twice that Tuesday.
If only you knew how many times I called your name when I was drunk,
Or sober
Or how many times I had to drive two hours back to stop myself from ringing your bell.
I have only grown dumber
2. Gawking at her glowing skin in a two-piece red. An ethereal canvas that could make a straight woman bend.
Water trickles snake-like down your abdomen like rain on my window. Stunning blue orbs, wish you could lend
Biting my lips, tried to look away when you caught my eyes. So embarrassed, choked ''hi ''
3. Sing to me about your infatuation in the voice of Mr. Tortoise marked with his tattoo.
Lie to me. Kiss him. Babe, add me to the queue.
Say all the right things when the lights in his eyes go dim and I can't see
Go against gravity if I need to; you will fall back to me.
4. Stunning forest green eyes, a demi God body like mine. Striking! Try to keep me from you?
Overqualified to be your crush. Watch the whole world stare when I am with thee.
Your pretend, trying to play it cool. I could have anyone in the universe.
I guess you could say you are truly blessed.
.
So many packages, for no reason, I carry,
And walk burdened, my body and soul seem scary...
Tensions, I call them; nothing if I look within,
Just like an onion when I remove the whole skin...!
Any little word of my friends or neighbors, odd,
Any act for which I do not get their applaud,
Is enough for me to brood within long like fowls,
And lose my sleep and wake up many nights like owls...!
So many foes, thus, in my life I had soon earned!
Full of pits in each step, thus, my life had upturned;
None, like eyes before staring sun, I could not face,
Betwixt us, I could feel, forming an unknown space...!
Enemies and only enemies everywhere,
Shades of foes did shadow my soul and rudely glare;
Anger, fear, guilt, doubt, loneliness, and helplessness,
All, in their toughest chains, bound me in callousness...!
Having suffered, as though throat-choked, I decided,
These pessimisms, like sun shades, are one-sided;
Optimism, with rainbow colors, when, fills the soul,
The world, with diversities, will turn single whole...!
I unlocked my closed heart with keys of faith and hope,
Though coping with all seemed to tread on a tightrope;
I did not give up; a bit bloom of smile; a hug;
And felt, at last, each tension is a mere humbug...!!!
13 January 2023
Revealing Your Soul And Other Tension Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
The graveyard opens the door's to the walkway,
But only to me,
Take slow breathes and count to three,
Now i open my eyes ,
I see what cannot be lies.
Upon the grave is my name,
As if i opened the door and death came.
I lay in the grave motionless as ever,
My mind is quiet clever,
This has to be a dream,
It must not be,
Laying in the coffin cannot be me!!!
My screams to anyone cannot be herd,
Not even the tiniest word,
From my mouth come's out a small choked up cry,
Life passes fast and then you die.
This is a dream,
I scream!!!
It is not what it seems,
The dream thrashes,
For it has turned to ashes.
I wake up,
Scared as ever
My mind can be quiet so clever,
I see i am still in the coffin,
I yell for help!
But all i can hear is a helpless yelp.
Sitting in an empty room it all begins to fit
The clarity comes rushing in more than I’d like to admit
The air is still and carries a familiar scent
The fragrant mix of failures and past torment
It’s simple really when I look from the outside
Of course I’d feel so run down surrounding myself with those who only lied
Yes, you must own up to all the wrong you have carried out and provoked
But you mustn’t assume all the blame when you were being tied up and choked
Acknowledge all the pain you have ever been through
Now use it to become something stronger, something anew
Please stop shouldering all the pain and letting it destroy you heart
Open up your soul to something happy and let the hurt depart
I think you’ll find that there is so much more to live for
So take your first steps and open that closed door
I’ll be waiting on the other side with open arms and a warm embrace
This can forever be your loving home and your happy place
It wasn't all that long ago when covid
choked the world with it's grasp.
People became anxious, some belligerent, when
asked to merely mask.
While others stock piled toilet paper to
wipe their sorry ass..
A million Americans suffered.
A million Americans passed.
Our health care system became overburdened
with such a daunting task..
People craving answers, turned to the experts to ask.
Our Ex. President gave misinformation with a
racist slant, calling covid the "Chinese virus",
he'd over and over recant.
Innocent Asian citizens were aggressively attacked.
This former President refused to abide by the precautions that
were advised. He wouldn't wear a mask and the medical community he criticized.
How many of us Americans would still be here today, if we had
stupidly injected bleach as this President once did say?
Four years wasn't all that long ago dear friends.
Is this the type of leader that Americans want again??
“My tears are testimony of my devotion to Beloved;
and from those tears white lilies will grow that speak the truth.”
Rumi
I had heard the legend of her tears,
silent drops of sorrow liberating her pain,
flowing upon the tip of her voiceless lips.
Her hopes descending like blossom buds,
drowning in ripples of rampant tides,
dragging her deeper into despair,
as her words suffocated among ignorant waves.
Trials of life had infected her mind,
with a melody of melancholic vapours,
setting her adrift in misplaced uncharted waters.
Immersing further, her cries no longer echoed,
as her heart choked upon confined consciousness.
Upon the depths of concussed misconception,
under electric, earthquake, haunting horizons,
her soul lay in slumber deluded by misjudgement.
Confused between regret and remorse,
trapped within the dilemma of circumstance,
her fears set sail upon satanic seas,
but only crawled into solitary seclusion -
forming eggshell foundations.
I was no hero nor did I have a halo,
but I was born to become a martyr,
in the glory of her martyrdom,
so I unpacked my heart,
ready for the final crusade of my life.
Treading upon a path of cracked glass,
decaying with crumbling concrete,
I wandered towards her speechless screams.
Preparing to feel the personification of her pain.
Empathic nature of my spirit yearned to
rescue her from the illusions of a fathomless abyss,
to release her from her internal crucifixion -
hoping we would merge like ocean and shore.
As I reached the darkness of her door,
like a star falling from heaven,
her truth like stardust, softly sprinkled,
flourishing and nourishing through me.
I placed my heart into her hands,
as light faded out the blackness,
like an abundance of kaleidoscopic petals,
her tears now illuminated like a rainbow.
Overwhelmed in this tranquillity,
shimmering reflections of emotions,
like gentle rain cascading from my soul,
I became tearful as they nurtured my heart's garden.
I remain intoxicated in their enchantment,
kissing her sorrows away for eternity.
The moonlight shimmered on the winding road
A chilled wind rolled to battle and smite
Slicing through the fog and croaking toads
There was a blood curdling scream heard that night
The fog's hand choked the throat of graves,
as it passed the stone bridge grasping its iron gate
Tall stones stood like marbled guards that wait
These sentries for death moonlight illuminates
A caretaker's eyes welded to shadows moving slow
A scream, a wolf's howl pierced to intervene,
the dark wings that flew by a dead willow
Frightened the caretaker, his imagination he gleans
No one knows of the caretaker's fate,
or of the shadowed wings he had seen
At each full moon near halloween,
a scream and wolf's call is heard pure and clean
They say ghosts had risen in the fog in flight,
by the stone bride with its iron gate
There was a blood crudling scream heard that night
contest Ghost Stories
10/23/14
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The oak splits its ribs for the nesting wren,
lets termites tunnel its marrow to dust~
a cathedral collapsing in slow grace.
Even the gutter, choked with last night’s rain,
holds a sky for the beetle’s iridescent back.
You’ve seen it: the way the sidewalk cracks
to cradle dandelion roots,
how rust kisses the abandoned swing set red,
how the subway grate exhales its warm breath
up the skirt of a shivering stranger.
The world is a wound that heals
by staying open.
Somewhere, a spider repairs her torn web
with the silk of her own body.
Somewhere, a streetlamp hums
to the moths it will burn alive by dawn.
And you~
you are alive to witness it.
In a world where whispers were the currency
of women, a letter dared to roar.
Tagore, the weaver of unseen truths,
unfurled a tale with threads of fire.
Mrinal, a caged bird with a song unheard,
her beauty admired, her voice a muffled word.
Years of stifled dreams, a mind in disguise,
until a spark ignited, a rebellion in her eyes.
The letter, a weapon sharp and bright,
against the rules that choked her light.
She wrote of patience, a heavy shroud,
and a yearning for freedom, fierce and loud.
Poetry, her escape, a world undefined,
where her spirit soared, leaving societal chains behind.
A world ruled by men, fathers, sons, and might,
but Mrinal, a melody breaking through the night.
Her daughter's loss, a wound that mirrored neglect,
ached for love, a love she wouldn't disrespect.
No longer confined to the roles they defined,
she would nurture, she would love, with a heart and mind unconfined.
Tagore's words, a mirror reflecting the fight,
of women rising, claiming their birthright.
To shatter the shackles, to breathe and to fly,
Mrinal's voice echoed a battle cry.
Let us heed the call, a revolution's start,
a wife's letter echoing in every beating heart.
(On the occasion of Tagore’s Birthday on May 7)
Fade-in to darkness
Blink slow, quicker ... eyes open
Still dark, but I can't go back to sleep again
I WON'T!
I feel like death ...
Exhausted, and such dysphoria
Oh, to go back into slumber and never wake again
Just to be free of this horrific feeling
But Life tugs ... just enough
Vague impressions of struggling
Gulping for breath ...
Heart beating through my chest to get air
Broken, fading memories of nightmares, deep
Dreams of drowning, being choked ...
Roped from a tree and swaying
Dangling feet twitching with my final gasps ...
Or sinking slowly ...
Tumbling into the abyss
Rays of sunlight light pillars
I grab for them, futile, as I swallow water
And fade into the cold depths ...
Or giant, sharp-nailed hands around my throat
Squeezing slowly as a sick grimace contorts and twists
Its cold breath spit in my face
Cartilage in my neck snapping, crunching
My breaths slowing ... gone.
Never exactly the same
But always the same outcome ...
NO AIR ... and struggle
Then waking to this depression and fatigue
So intense that I wish for my end
But responsibility forces me to rise ... again
And slowly ... slowly ... slowly ...
I feel a bit better
Say a prayer for the day
And hope that maybe ...
Maybe tonight ...
My apnea won't be quite as bad
Or the dreams ...
As terrifying.
* FIRST PLACE in the "Morning Ritual" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Sponsor. *