Long Coma Poems
Long Coma Poems. Below are the most popular long Coma by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Coma poems by poem length and keyword.
No Greater Hero,
Struggling through the Great Depression
Growing up fatherless in the care of a loving aunt
Losing her husband, his weary mother could not cope
Working for the Civilian Conservation Corps
Trying to support his family
Attending school at night to provide a better life
Playing his sax and clarinet
Resounding notes of joy cast blessings
Filling our home with happiness many children never know
Loving eyes and deep, gentle voice
Drawing admiration from all who came to know him
Speaking softly, never in harsh tones
Accepting life’s challenges
Forgiving when his children seemed ungrateful
Nurturing, caring, standing by our sides
Picking us up when we fell
Offering support in every endeavor
Being the kind of father he never had
Teaching us to work hard and achieve
Reminding us that life offers no guarantees
Encouraging us to rebound from challenges as “come-back kids”
Gathering at his hospital bedside New Year’s Day 2009
Astonishing nurses with the depth of our love
Never leaving his side, three grown children rested hands upon his
Lingering six days in a coma, perhaps his soul already in heaven
Speaking to him, hoping he could hear
Wanting him to feel our love one last time
Siblings who rarely agreed
Concurring just this once
Feeling blessed by our father, the brightest star we see in heaven
Carolyn Devonshire
* Dedicated to my father, Arthur Schwarz, who died January 6, 2009
This poem, is Carolyn Devonshire.
one feels each word, not only in this wonderful dedication to her father,
but in every poem she writes,
her comments are warm and sincere,
and one can only be drawn to her understanding of the human race.
this is a wonderful contest. and i for one feel honoured to be a part of it.
harry horsman.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
this was written after a day of snorkeling off mile marker 14 in Maui
Dominated by destinations and schedules
I can only look ahead.
Forward to 14.
We must park, we must mark ours.
I must govern us by order if we are to enjoy all.
Positioning my sundries I cannot help to see Her.
Wisps of hair caress her face.
Joy radiates within.
A carefree smile is cast my way
and it awakens me from my parental coma.
Summoned by her beauty I walk to the shore
The water seems cold, but I yearn to obey.
And her desire for me frees me from my coma.
Shells crush beneath our feet
as we walk side by side into the water.
The water is not cold: I am warm.
Water refreshes my face as we submerge into the water.
We venture to deeper regions seeking adventure.
Sight is stimulated by color, movement, and shapes unknown.
That is when She reaches out for my hand.
That is when she squeezes my hand.
Adventure beckons.
A coral garden teeming with vibrant colors and shapes.
Fish both large and small conversing with one another.
These are the sights that captivate us.
And as we explore into the matrix of this garden
we are honored with the appearance of a great beast
gracefully swimming towards us.
A current turns us towards the shore
with the passing of the turtle,
and the squeeze is released.
The adventure does end.
We must return safe.
We must find our plot.
I must direct us back safe.
A familiar sensation returns to me.
It is my parental coma summoning me back.
I shall return willingly for my sleep will be illuminated
with the imagery of Her innocent beauty.
My dreams shall be sweetened
with the memory of that squeeze
Don't let the title fool you,
life is nothing close to wonderful.
I am starting to loathe this
thing called life I am living.
Sometimes I wish I would
slip into a coma until
death took me.
I really don't think many
will really miss me.
I feel I don't matter to anyone
outside of my family.
I am tolerated,
shown a gesture,
when I am stand in
someone's presence.
I wish I could live
the movie for a few minutes.
See if I really make a difference
in this world,
in the lives of my friends,
or acquaintances.
Maybe I could see rather or not
I really mean a damn
to anyone.
Maybe it's best to consider
living this life alone.
It's what I do best.
I just wish it was more of
a wonder life.
By personal experience, I didn't even know. Based on a memory and I
fooled myself. Why should I follow a fake dream ? Was put in artificial
coma for two weeks. I have changed a lot since the accident. Now I
know what really matters. Things change so fast, life can suddenly turn.
It's a fact I'm paralyzed from the hips down. A settlement without hatred
and tears. The blood is still pulsing in my veins ... the heart is like
a vibrating rose petal in the wind
new goals to strive for
the life was turned upside down -
angels danced with pride
28.08.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
When sleep deserted me
I crawled out of my bed unseen
To delve into the crevices of the dark
With the curiosity of an explorer
And the near comatose of a somnambulist
I walked up and down the steep slopes of the night
Like a night watchman
Without a lantern in hand.
When my legs grew weary
I sat on a rock
Covered with moss and lichen
Staring into the dark night sky
With no constellation of fireflies
Flashing their torches anywhere
Sitting there, in that bewitching night,
I listened to the song of night birds,
The rustle of leaves,
The howl of wolves,
And the night wind’s rave.
Looking into the dark pockets of the night,
I thought of human mind, a deep gorge
With many an uninhabitable corner
Where serpent desires lie coiled,
Scorpions crawl with toxic pincers
And predators roam to prey upon helpless victims.
The mystery of the night absorbed me,
Her muffled sounds, her dark beauty
And her elusive charm, like thick night fog,
Percolated deep into my consciousness,
And I floundered in a fathomless sea,
Swirling in her eddies and currents.
It whisked me away to lands far…far!
But on being washed ashore,
I was in a creative delirium.
I am now in No Man’s Land,
Where everything is in a coma of stillness,
Where no light glimmers,
No door ajar
And no one in sight!
Here the poet in me breaks open,
The somnambulistic comatose,
And down way flow my thoughts in indelible ink
Which only I can read.
Like a night bird,
Roosting among the branches of a tree,
I sing of my heart aches,
Of my yearnings and longings.
In the barely audible whispers of the night,
My song reverberates in the eyeless abyss down,
And in the dark desolate valleys below.
People say, ghosts walk the earth at night.
Oh! I am not scared!
I am not eager for the dawn to break,
Nor want to put my pen down!
Listening to you complain all day
Gives me migraines beyond belief
Good grief, could you just shut your mouth?
I wish we can go our separate ways – me, going north and you, going south
Ah, my pain empire…
Let me be independent
Let me go and admire…
The dominant neglect
And accept…that my sorrow is erect…
In the ever-changing coma
Of smelling your amusing aroma
Volkswagens and its vulgar scent leaves me breathless
On the lane of insanity – I popped the vein of vanity…
I’m feeling worthless and abhorrent more or less…
Staring into space…
I loath when people talk behind their backs…
Left to be a soft-spoken grace…
Silent as the grave, cooing like the midnight owl…
Hearing the werewolves howl while hearing you scowl…
Forever…young – a so-called blessing in disguise
Eternal…happiness…hope…cheer…faith… Hey, girls and guys!
That’s what we all need… not this horrifying greed…
Nourishing my heart, mind and soul’s seed…feelin’ sensual sensation in anticipation…
Trying too hard to stay away from sex, drugs and alcohol best I can, but I fail like a witchy snitch
Trying to do non-dirty deeds, but I’m picking up the weeds of temptation…
I’m not the biggest fan of **** and what it did to me…upset by subliminal images that bleed through my cranium… hypnotized by the devil’s song…
Angels’ halos,
Blow me kisses and hugs…
Don’t sweep me under rugs…
Or in the backfire…
You’re a swine, but you are fine, for you are mine…
I take credit for your pain…
Your pain empire…
Hard times zip through my fuzzy brain…
Sometimes, the clock chimes…it stinks…
We eat on sandwiches and drink soft drinks…
My good mindset has caught a dim train…
But, let me feel
You like no big deal
Observe me for poetrys’ sake
For, I lie here wide awake
Until you sleep in my arms again
Again
Again…
Stark emptiness fills my perfume bottle,
The vacuum in my vacuity,
Negligence swills it beyond the dottle,
To leave my mind bare of acuity.
For many days its void of content speaks,
But its endurance keeps my freshness plump,
Compliments make its vast emptiness squeaks,
Yet it exhales resentment from its pump.
My shirts already miss its friendliness,
Noses beg to sniff its unique sweetness,
Stale air asks to reclaim lost cleanliness,
Its presence ensures far-reaching neatness.
Importance is etched upon your label,
How I so much miss your fresh aroma,
Your sweet tale cannot be told as fable,
The freshness you bring can't end in coma.
The Once Dead Boy - Revised
Once upon a time there lived a little boy
Who filled his mother’s heart with boundless joy.
This sweet young lad was pure as snow
Spreading goodness and kindness like seeds that grow.
People couldn’t help but notice his eyes
Always shining brightly and looking up high.
He laughed and smiled from dawn to days end;
Never spoke a bad word and couldn’t count all his friends.
Boys and girls and grownups galore;
Everybody loved him until he laughed no more.
While riding his bike on a warm, spring day
A car rounded a corner and took him away.
But he never saw it coming and floated so high
Watching his dear mother weep, wail and cry.
“Why God, why God, why God me?
Why not another boy from across the sea?”
She cursed, fumed, begged and pleaded
But all her pain went quite unheeded.
Meanwhile the child just set his sights
On a place he knew beyond the light
Shining down from high above
With the pull so strong of pure, deep love.
As he traveled wide and went so far
Beyond the blue and past the stars;
Galaxies were toys just hanging there
Like a baby’s mobile in the cool night air.
While time stood still and truth became dreams
And he knew the answers to everything
From Aristotle to the age of space
And found himself without a trace;
While still connected to his mother’s mind, awakening
From his coma in the nick of time.
While the doctors said he was surely dead
For a while, who knows for certain?
(It’s a fine line between here and gone
And drawing the final curtain).
The moral of the story is the boy survived
Because no one knows the difference
Between dead and alive.
When both my feet don’t touch the ground
Lightheadedness proves overwhelming
Turbulent thoughts going while coming
They swirl about me round and round
Cloaked in black a moonless night
The howling dreadful spiteful wind prevails
Spellbound drags me over hills and vales
Like a ragdoll in the midst of a bullfight
Trails of lingering spirit ghouls
Hover over murky haze of mistiness
Harassing in dark gloomy cloudiness
Wrangling reaping mangled souls
Blurry visions twirl above
Creating mayhem in their path
Unleashing bold raging wrath
Till afar I think I see a dove
Fearing I’ll break into a coma
I force myself to get a grip
Catch my breath with every dip
Holding out for familiar terra firma
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
What is it like to be dead?
Does anyone know the answer?
What is it like to be dead?
Something so hard to imagine,
Fills my existence with dread.
Infinite time of unconsciousness,
Like a Coma with no release.
Is it a thoughtless black void?
What is it like to decease?
Will I continue only in spirit?
Or live in an afterlife paradise.
I don’t fancy the notion of Hell,
But Heaven might be quite nice.
Am I bound for eternal damnation?
It worries me, I’m not a believer.
Is bereavement really the end?
Or is life and death a deceiver.
Nothingness, I cannot compute,
Can’t get this into my head.
Concerned, I’m asking once more,
What is it like to be Dead?