Long Commotion Poems
Long Commotion Poems. Below are the most popular long Commotion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Commotion poems by poem length and keyword.
The child in me stands out, often, rudely,
Shocking me; shaking me; threatening me;
Questioning all foundations and traditions,
Rites, rituals, routines, convictions...
Sometimes like logical philosopher,
Sometimes like ancient saintly foreteller;
Sometimes like wild rough, rude beastly creature,
Provokes thoughts on life with its true feature...
It's in such character transformation,
Assumed the form of child in transition;
Finding enchantments all over the earth,
Felt fascination for her very birth...
This little girl, my inner child, asks me,
To tell stories on butterflies, fancy;
Might be owing my mood, then, anger-filled,
There's once one, I said, it's dead and got burred...
This made commotion on the child within,
Butterflies have appositely term thin;
Why don't we, at least, in our stories give,
Greater life-span and make them to long live...
26 January 2022
Here by the edge
Downtown district;
A heartland survives
So many moods
Flavours that stretch;
Activity distracts
All sorts of trade
In brisk commotion;
Cash now plastic
Buy and sell
Your old junk here;
Fools fill full
Old signboard
Humours offbeat;
Tourist cameras click
Old antique shoppe
Uneasy display;
Haunting aura lingering
Take a sure peek
Look at old things;
History sighs here
Further down
This street facelift;
Old ways and new clash
Wet market stalls
Fresh produce vie;
Customers explore wares
I waltz by
To find something;
Distraction collides
Old and new
New and old ways;
Sobriety alludes
Leon Enriquez
02 May 2014
Singapore
I went to the park anyway that day, knowing he would not come.
We had only met a few days ago but the connection was fast and strong. We had dinner together the past three nights and talked late into the next morning. Holding hands; sharing a kiss; and telling our life story to one another.
Today, we would take the next step. I knew it. He knew it.
The plans were that he would take the afternoon off – and the remainder of the week. We were to share a picnic lunch in Central Park and then drive up to Kennebunkport for the next few days. We had reserved only one room at the Bed and Breakfast we found in a regional traveling book.
It was a beautiful late summer morning. The sun was already bright. The skies were blue and clear.
I was so anxious to make the picnic lunch perfect that I started shopping for the ingredients as soon as the markets opened that morning.
I rode the subway to my favorite wine store with a smile pasted on my face. I walked to the deli from there with a dance in my step. I was so happy that I felt like I could fly.
Yes, I thought … I could fly. Fly like the birds. Fly across the big, beautiful, blue sky. Fly. Just like that low flying plane that passed over my head … minutes before my world; his world; our world – changed forever.
I knew he worked on the 104th floor. That was a part of his life’s story he had shared with me two nights ago.
The city was both full of chaos and commotion and yet, ominously quiet and solemn.
Motion everywhere. People walking; running; standing still in shock. People crying; gasping; talking to themselves; and, stunned into silence. Cars all going in one direction – away from Downtown.
Although I didn’t know – I knew.
I went to the park anyway that day, knowing he would not come.
I laid out the blanket. Spread out the food. Opened the bottle of wine.
People hurried past me, looking at me look I was a fool. Some asked me if I didn’t know what was happening. I knew. I knew.
I still have not been to Kennebunkport.
Welcome friends, I know you will be most excited
with tonight's special guest that we have invited.
So, let's give a round of applause and a cheer.
Punctuation's star, Exclamation Point, is here.
Welcome. It's good to see you, Exclamation Point.
Yes! Let's do it, Johnny! I just got out of the joint!
My goodness, I was going to say, you're looking trim.
Tell your fans what kind of mess you got yourself in.
I guess I got too excited, opened my yap,
and told Comma he's lost, falling in the wrong gap.
I impetuously started a barroom fight,
my sentences struck him, with raw power and might.
I'm innocent, but somehow, I stir up commotion.
I'm just excellent at expressing emotion!
Hmm, tell us about the emotions you can express.
For example, what about happiness?
What a great question! Glad you asked it! I'm ecstatic!
What was I saying? Whatever, I'm emphatic!
But was it anger that landed you in the can?
Shut up, Johnny, I'll rip your bloody face off, man!
I guess subtlety is really not your ball of wax.
Do you do sadness? Yes, I weep and do my income tax!
Exclamation Point, it sure has been a pleasure.
Thanks, Johnny, I've enjoyed myself without measure!
and remember, Question Mark asks, and Comma will pause,
but an Exclamation Point thanks you for your applause!
This one goes out to a special poetry souper.
Dedicated to an unknown rhythmic ink trooper.
Her poetic pen is mightier than any sword,
she cares not for attention nor craves to be adored.
Not a daily poster, but like petals her words grow,
releasing deep thoughts like tranquil rivers flow.
Pouring out pain, portraying a life full of commotion,
she's never afraid to reveal deep repressed emotion.
Nonchantly, composing sonnets, prose and monorhymes.
A 'free verse' soul with a pure gift, ahead of the times.
Sometimes her humour can lead to hysterics.
Other times her words sing like melodic song lyrics.
From undefined uncertainties to unseen and unheard,
they're relatable verses, reflected through sentiments stirred.
Elegant as a redolent rose with that Midas touch.
Her art is like a masterpiece that needs no retouch.
Needs not hide behind metaphors to create her poetry.
Hails from an island of sapphire skies and turquoise sea.
I know her journey has faced a mountain of adversity
and living among devious souls has caused controversy.
Despite the darkness, she glows like a lantern at night.
In times of trouble, always finds the willpower to write.
When torment arrives, stabbing my heart with spears,
she's always there to ensure my mind's not full of fears.
A honest heart with the modest grace of a pacifier.
Has formed a legacy of an unassuming versifier.
Like a peacock spreading beauty - flamboyantly.
For me, the Aura of Rhymes is poetic royalty.
My memories of you were like trauma personified
For years my mind could not run from the pain and hide
I took the remnants of your chaos in my stride
Wishing I had rather been a runaway bride
In 2015
Where you were a golden apple out on display
But inside reaked of rotten decay
Shut behind closed blinds far away
No one knew the solemn struggles I endured every day
Until I left
I've chatted to your new wife, lnformed her of our past
And of our demise and why I ran away so fast
And of your abuse of which she did not ask
And of your toxic masculinity she knows well of
I forgive myself for not having the foresight
And for the futile patience I had waiting for it to be alright
I forgive myself for trying too hard
To make sweet lemonade instead of discard
The bitter lemon
I made peace and let go of my survivor's guilt
I break down the protective wall my heart has built
I thank my parents for my independence
Back to the present belongs my mind's attendance
I thank women in society for role modeling self-respect
Showing the world we too can be our life's architect
I praise women who stood up and left the abuse
Showed the world that gender based violence has no use
I no longer allow my mind's erosion
I discard traumatic memories with all its emotions
Finding God's peace became my new devotion
As I move on from 2016's commotion.
He is someone else's problem now. May she too find peace.
I never thought the end is soon to come
I have scars in my mind's eye that leave me numb
Stop playing mind games with me because I'm not fooled easily
Your fake lies and romance lullabies - I can't stand honestly
Unfortunately, life is not what it seems
You didn't mend my broken dreams
So, you left me in the dust of your farewells
Hopefully true love will find me - only time tells
You're a mystery to solve in my brain
You're making me feel so damn insane
I'll tell you what - I need you to stay away from me
You have the guts to leave me behind, I see
Your heart is unknown to me
Your actions are heartless as hell
You can't stop me from hurting myself because you didn't build me up fast enough
It seems as if life and its struggles got a lot more rough...I know you're trying to be tough
This harsh feeling overwhelms me and takes over my life
I can't handle all this chaos, commotion and strife
I'm jaded by your selfish decisions and you can't help, but be a success
While I'm a failure in my prison of painstaking regrets in excess
Don't deny me all day and night
Not everything is black and white
I won't back down on this fight for a better time spent with loved ones
You shot me a glare as I walked into the crowd and I loved you tons
But, now, I hate you to the extreme
You ruined my self-esteem and didn't make me beam
I believed in your fantasy words
That flew into my ears like birds
You treated me with maltreatment
I have added to your resentment
I never thought this could be the end of our friendship
It feels as if something special in me has died and dried up inside
Come on, be a man and please get a big grip
You cut me into pieces of nothingness and my heart is torn apart and denied
Please don't leave me here all alone in this room
My heart literally keeps pounding in anxious doom
I don't need you to criticize me with worthless, degrading comments
You treated me like a punching bag...don't fence me in by your ignorance
Please...
Please...don't desert me like this...
Please...
Please...don't leave me in the abyss
You remind me of happy days
I know we have parted our ways
But, I want you back, so that I can have a friend to lean on
I have been a horrible person and I'm sorry that you're gone
Tear by tear, year to year
Day by day
Memories they all fade away
Tear by tear
Voices in my ears
Words may lay
Promises are all there’s left to say
I may wade through volcanic vaults
My peers never picture me painted at a hault
Jaded memories are tainted, lost and caught
A chance given to blow it
A new set of balls, just living to grow it
I’ll never faulter or kneel down to cry at the alter
Through adversity
It seems my surroundings curse at me
And even if I feel an emotional down
I couldn’t bare it in front of you
So much commotion
Just to share something as blunt as the truth
The withered bed our readers have made for us
Through every line, Scritch, scratch, or mixed up batch
They forever adore us
As if their thank you letters or
“Congratulations you put together a good poem,”
Could bore us
What’s worse than being beaten by tabloids?
Extension cords
Checks with giant letters that say “VOID”
Of course baring the voice of being a lord
For never having more than we could afford
Beef and battles
Is better than fagots on relief and saddles
The ocean is open and blue
But nature won’t let you paddle
And perhaps, we’ll die
And for us our peers will forget to say goodbye
Never to be remembered
When we reach those golden gates
Just pray that we are a member
My late cousin’s daughter was to get married
at a place some 80 km from their residence,
I was asked to drive her there and I agreed,
it was like my daughter’s wedding in a sense.
So, in the afternoon of a chilly winter day
we started, the bride occupied the backseat hot
with two other girls, I’d no idea who were they,
must be two of her best friends, I thought.
All the talking was done by her voluble friends,
the bride was quiet all through the journey,
thinking perhaps if her free life-style would end,
or she was exhausted, too tired to talk, probably.
We reached the venue late, a full half an hour,
I told them to get down quick, rush to the room,
I would join them and others after I park the car
and bring the bouquet I bought for the groom.
When I came back I heard there a big commotion,
for the bride I brought with me was missing,
I realized what had happened in second’s fraction,
went back to the car, found her on backseat sleeping.
January 10, 2022
Contest : Funny Memories
Sponsor : Natasha L Scragg
Garden stroll
Scent of flowers;
Haiku surprise
Essence of now:
Empty yet full;
Pain-pleasure bridge
Road not taken
Old paths ignored;
Regrets linger
Snowy blizzard,
Desolation complete;
Freezer burns bite
Tai-Chi dancers
Greet morning breeze;
Serene postures
Plumeria blossoms
Flowery poetry;
Scent enchantment
Falling leaves
Tease wit;
Gravity at play
Brown leaves
Blown debris;
Quiet commotion
Haiku word drops
Falling rain streaking;
Mind's windowpane
Words seem useless
Nature springs charm;
Vibrant meaning
Night cicadas
Voice old complaints;
Time slips away
Leon Enriquez
27 Feb 2014
Singapore