Long Chokes Poems
Long Chokes Poems. Below are the most popular long Chokes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chokes poems by poem length and keyword.
I feel trapped. Inside my own body.
There’s so much I want to change about myself and who I am, but I can’t.
I feel the tiny ribbons of who I am fighting against each other inside me.
Under my left shoulder I feel the red ribbon pulling me to give who I love everything and anything I have to offer.
Through my arms I feel my blue ribbons telling me that what I’m giving is mine, things that they worked to earn me. They tell me no.
In my thighs I feel the purple ribbons complain of such desire for things that the orange ribbon in my head knows is not right. They tear each other apart, confetti.
Wrapped around my bones I feel a white ribbon straighten my spine and push me to do better, to carry more. The thing is, I don’t know if the white ribbon is telling me to carry more for myself, or others.
Wrapped around my throat, there is a green ribbon. This one chokes back words that I want to say most, that will do the worst things. Green ribbon let’s out word vomit when it isn’t paying attention and I make mistakes. Green ribbon restricts me and frees me all at once, my words die in my esophagus.
In control of my knees, claves, and feet is yellow ribbon. Yellow ribbon straightens my walking patterns in variation to how much alcohol has been consumed. But sometimes it falters and I find myself stumbling completely sober and standing straight up when I should be doubled over. These ribbons wrap around each other and meet in knots. They pull on each other until one is in control of the wrong thing and I’m falling.
I’m falling so fast that the air moving past my face is keeping me from breathing and-
Confetti.
I am confetti.
Style smiles
Word wild
Dear child
Work wiles
Seek sight
Dance dear
Craft cheer
Live light
Be bold
Leap loft
Speak soft
Fear folds
Save space
Nudge noise
Vet voice
Frame face
Buzz booms
Craze chokes
Play pokes
Big blooms
Posh plate
Sweet stakes
Wounds wake
Green gates
Be bright
Nude nudge
Taste touch
See sights
Lines loom
Strip strange
Ripe range
Zest zooms
Gain gall
Stretch sense
Taut tense
Free fall
Take turns
Seek sweet
Moves meet
Bear burns
Hurl hurts
Peak pain
Voice vain
Ditch dirt
Dupe dance
Freeze fate
Laugh late
Crisp chance
Leon Enriquez
02 July 2016
Singapore
Years ago, you found me grounded with wings afraid to fly.
Toting smiles and wants of note, you paused to view my sky.
Was soon that I thought once, and you concurred twice,
that merging our styles would make a love themed paradise.
Years confirmed our intangible wares of mutual shares.
Even our highs and lows equally sighed with visual cares.
I never grew concerns about thunder, so I did not feel around,
poke or peek under for shudders from lightening blunders.
I saw no clue stains for panic in any cracks of tragic.
Then, at my joy’s peak in romance’s security streak,
you turned cold and scowled, ice water endowed.
Stayed confusion hovered in my same daily clouds
as your words and actions rose into caustic attacks.
My full tears left clear tracks, but my world swirled black.
Trapped in walls with love's silt, my once full heart spilt
as your cold face growl tilted me with its cruel wilt.
Bones gone, feelings stung and laid me on our bed you built.
Sob chokes watched hopes darken and fall on our quilt.
I heard your shoes sounding the harsh retreat of a final leave.
My reality undone, I spun inside a brutal, nightmarish tide.
My shivers surged frail coldness, exposing me as clueless.
In my mind, fantasies fumbled seeking a stronghold.
I beseeched memories to transition into numbing flakes
that would deaden all my grieving from this love mistake.
A red fist chokes my world before me
Millions of crimson fingers
Squeeze the life from my family
My friends, my lover
I awake covered in a cold sweat
"It could never happen, right?"
Now I watch blood stain the map
As more and more states turn red
She flees to Mexico
He awaits conversion
They face the reality that the Nazis tried to bury
70+ long years ago
I fall to my knees and wonder
I'm white. I'm male.
I'm mostly straight.
I have nothing to fear
Except for the fact that everyone I love
Is in danger
This isn't my America.
I left this mentality behind in World War II.
This isn't my America.
I didn't vote for a racist, misogynist, xenophobic waste.
This isn't my America.
I didn't choose to oppress.
This isn't my America.
I didn't choose to regress.
This is a dying America.
The American Dream Dies Alone.
April fools' day - (ordinarily) all manner of tomfoolery abounds
Pandemic straps tightly plied girded beltway
unlike any other All fools day
in annals of recorded ("fake") history
western civilization tapestry doth fray
April first two thousand and twenty
neigh, no time for horseplay
what with coronavirus (COVID-19)
boarded ship of jilted fools
(think *****sapiens)
barred courtesy omnipotent jackstay
furloughed workers analogous
grumpy minions lay
dwarfed by unfortunate global events, née...
germinating, jackknifing, and wreaking havoc
Mother Earth nonchalantly toying
(indiscriminately) regarding humanity
as bestrewing bajillion biohazards berserkly
bequeathing bedlam child's play
just desserts, she doth understandably repay
man/womankind flicked as flotsam and jetsam
vile treatment diabolically heaped,
jubilantly loosed, maniacally pitched
upon her terrestrial firma oy vey
she chokes, gags, laughs raspily yea
rebuffs, refuses, and renounces further abuse.
Nevertheless toothless gumption, albeit feeble
fighting spirit, her survival instincts assail
cumulative environmental destruction
triggered casus belli expelling deadly toxins,
when Gaia doth exhale
since onset of global interregnum
(think virulent spreading poisonous Kudzu
like wildfire biohazard)
since world wide webbed disease
brought grinding halt
consumerist paradigm in lockdown,
nonetheless within brief interim
noticeable clearer air to inhale
amazingly enough postal system...
intact voila... uninterrupted delivery of mail,
the daily highlight experienced
among people emotionally crippled
pasty faced and pale
finds quivering captain Kangaroo
plus good n plenti proud primates
each quivering like a captive quail.
I see that acacia tree
and I get vacuumed back to the past.
When we both had
a different type of light in our eyes,
with the reflections of that clear brook
evident in our irises,
where we thought that the
sun only revolved around us, and us alone.
We thought we knew better,
or did we?
Did we truly know anything at all?
My heart gurgles a bit,
as it chokes, bleeding on memories...
I am beside myself,
and I look so stupid,
hugging that tree,
a lifeline to what was.
I envy that tree, for its sturdiness,
its roots being so deep-seated,
so much unlike us,
easily broken, swayed, uprooted.
I loathe that tree,
for it still blooms,
blushing with its bright pink flowers
so delicate-looking and beautiful.
So unlike myself.
I feel ugly now. I actually am.
With hate and guilt eating at me from my core,
how could I not be?
I am rotten.
I am corroded.
From the looks of it,
I seem to have drunk from that
brook (now polluted), ingesting the trash
strewn there
I just never knew how much filth there was.
I am not infallible.
I thought you were.
But I was wrong. Dead wrong.
You tried to pull me up, but
became too heavy for you...
I dragged you down with me,
so deep, too deeply
that I had to bury you.
Along with my heart and soul,
which have both turned into stone.
I am stoned.
Yes, I feel so heavy,
so heavy I wish someone
would bury me,
throw me in the sea
so I could sink to the bottom and be forgotten.
Or better yet,
is there a magic pill
being sold somewhere
that can make me go back—
Start all over
and do things over?
What I would give
to recapture that light,
to have you back
but I know it is too late.
You’ve gone already.
Left me...
Or so I thought.
I always had the tendency to be wrong,
and it had never felt so great.
I turn around
and a different kind of light
kindles my I(rise)s.
Like that acacia,
I bloom again.
It's really quite simple,
watch, I'll show you.
Flip your wrists,
turn them upward,
now bend them back.
grasp...
Slice deep,
bleed your mind,
let it go...
Painful?
It's better that way.
Now watch it trickle,
drop by drop, float down
blue, now red, it flows
a rasp of wind falls,
a gasp of air chokes.
heavy is your breath,
exhale...
it's all stale anyway,
no need to breathe it back in.
Feel the thunder of your heart?
Faster and faster,
it falls like night's approach
until your mind cuts deep
and hangs the sun once again...
Does it matter?
No one will ever see the whites
of your sunken eyes,
they only see the spills of crimson,
your trickled thoughts
scribbled on paper rags
as you die one more time
from within...
connie meets dough boy at dawn
so connie went to the bakery at dawn
bright eyed and bushy
out of a story book pops her dough boy
so plump, especially in the rump
so hairy, especially in the brow
so cute, especially in the eyes
connie's in love
this time it's for real
bells in her cache are ringing
dolphins are singing in her well
swans are dancing in her strawberry patch
connie's beside herself
soon dough boy, too
come on god let this be the one
come on angles start rooting for me for once
dough boy comes on over to her, great
now keep in mind there about the same age, perfect
even though he has gomer in him...
ma'am would you like a sample
connie blushes five shades of red
so much for the poker face
dough boy ringing her bell, blowing her whistle
connie can see dough boy in her oven ... making some lov'en
samplin his buffet spread, too
then the balloon pops
see another tease .. another baker icing her heart
dough boy turns her pages back, i knew it
ma'am I have apple fritter squares that you can sample
connie rolls her eyes
connie chokes on his words
connie ready to have a cow
connie leaves broken hearted
gees, mightest well put the whips and clips back on ice
...forever, connie will never find her man
why couldn't it have been (insert heart, cupid arrow, two love birds)
His smiles glisten like a river of waves
Beckoning her to ride the rapids with him
Together they rode the white sheet of trim
riding it's banks to a whitewash of splash
no. no.no
of course not
thank you my angels
ma'am you want an apple fritter
great
connie pachecho
1/14/17
My hasty steps echo
on the cracked stone tile,
before the bus door hisses
shut—Late again.
"It's a wonderful life," the clouds sing in chorus.
Their church choir harmony almost offensive,
if I didn't know,
they truly believe
life is lullabies and steaming apple tea.
Swear-soaked hair clings to my neck.
I call these ember days:
when smoldering urban air chokes—
Yet the clouds drift,
marshmallow white—
Like porcelain swans on azure water.
I watch the bus hustle
away, breath too ragged
to properly curse.
The clouds grin,
like they're genuinely satisfied—
—just being.
Wouldn't that be something.
Inspired by and loosely based on the song UNATTRACTIVE by Sofia Isella and the pure feminine rage she pumps into all of her songs <3
my hands shake in the dark
I want to hold yours in the fire
watch your skin curl and scream
in my mouth, the taste of venom
I want to spit it in your face
make you flinch at my reflection
my chest twists like a fist
I want to break it open
let the shattered pieces fly across the floor
I want to be ugly
violent
repulsive
a warning carved in bone and smoke
every glance you throw
is a strike, a spark, a storm
I want to match it
with teeth, claws, and fire
I want to claw my eyes out
just to see if the world will finally see what I feel
I want to pull my face apart
and laugh when you shiver, flinch and squirm
I want to be the thing
you can’t touch
can’t own
can't manipulate
can’t grasp
I want to bleed power
and let it stain the air
so even your shadow
knows my fury
I want to be every storm
you ignored
every fire
you tried to smother
I am spit
acid
teeth
nails
I am the mirror you flinch from
the shadow in the corner of every room
I want revenge ten times over
twisting inside
shards
flying across the floor
screaming my name
I want to scream myself into grotesque perfection
rip myself open so the world can see the chaos I carry
I am teeth
I am claws
I am the ash in your lungs
I am the rage
I am the ruin
I am everything you feared
and everything you tried to break
I am not your monster
I am the one you will remember
when the walls burn
when smoke chokes out the sky
when nothing else remains