Long Confirm Poems
Long Confirm Poems. Below are the most popular long Confirm by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Confirm poems by poem length and keyword.
Brain rewired
The spine of prison rattles
Hearts harden
Hungry dogs
Chomp on the bars and the bones
Of his hope
He is lost
Dreams and fears confirm his tears
Time is gone
Guilty truths
Drizzle down his swollen cheeks
“God, I’m yours. . .
Lift my eyes
For your light is my way to
Shame my foes. . .
My clothes droop
My body slumped against death
This soul swells. . .
I need her. . .
If only you knew how much
I miss her. . .
I need You
For You have stayed here with me
Patiently. . .”
The sun peeks
His sad eyes take in the warmth
His heart melts
We are free
The sky is open to you
Now Stay Strong
9/12/2015
Part 2: Accommodation
VII. Anamnesis
The slate was never clean
bore your name in your own hand
ts uncrossed, heavy pressure
when anxious, pen tearing through
leaving impressions every sentence after
must accommodate
must build itself
around the shape
of that first
gash
=======
VIII. What You Get
The myth promises cleavage—
clean—surgical—total.
What you get: continuity
messy, partial, exhausting.
Promises you'll be new. Hands you back yourself—
still in the original packaging
unopened—
same fingerprints,
same voice returning your own call
same welts you press—
checking—
the way you press elevator buttons
that are already lit—
to confirm
they still hurt.
=======
IX. The Second Midnight
Change is not the kiss at midnight—
not salvation from the cab ride after
the cab driver's air freshener—chem-pine—
making you nauseous
your lipstick smudged, the number saved
as "DO NOT RESURRECT."
Not salvation from the bottles
you'll replace by the second
the cold silver of the cork-top, telling yourself
wine's different—until it isn't—
as if the vintage
changes what it does
when you're alone at 3:39 a.m.
face in the glass slab—
checking for their text—text
and you are still
this mouth—
saying fine
in that voice
you recognize
but don't remember
teaching yourself.
The stray's voice.
Or yours.
=======
X. Again
On the third day
not the first (that manic start)
not the second (the gutting out)
but the third
you try again
Not because you believe this time will work
but because the body
has this routine
waking up
the ceramic thud of the unwashed mug
burning the toast
you know the right setting
but refuse to trust it
trying again
The river doesn't choose
to return to the stone.
The stone doesn't choose
to accommodate.
But the river returns
And the stone, eventually, shifts
tired of being stone
the river is the only thing that understands
You put your hand in the river
The cold makes you gasp
The stone doesn't
This is erosion becoming inspiration
the stone's dream
of being water.
A short, fat man with ruddy nose
Who dresses up in ruddy clothes
And sits behind a tiny herd
Of reindeer as they fly like birds
Across the sky delivering gifts
To boys and girls. He must be swift!
To answer every wish and hope
That omnipresent philanthrope
From pole to pole they travel fast
A Christmas feat that’s unsurpassed
From home to home they’re never seen
By any person in between
Except perhaps by nodding child
Anticipatingly beguiled
Who catches sight of something weird
In crimson coat and fluffy beard
But awed amid a stifled yawn
Can’t speak before the vision’s gone
Too groggy to communicate
Shuts eyes and hopes that sleep will wait
Yet floats off in another dream
Envisioning a Christmas scene
A merry little fantasy
On jolly Santa’s comfy knee
But then the dark capitulates
And dawn and child abruptly wake
Then recollecting image of
A bushy face with child-like love
Rush out in unrestrained pursuit
Of gentle man in scarlet suit
But setting eyes upon the piles
Of packages in wrapping … smiles
And thoughts of stranger dressed in red
Escape enthusiastic head
Now reindeer, man and flying sleigh
Have undetected, slipped away
Into a dream of Christmas cheer
That happens only once each year
And resting underneath a bed
A box now holds a suit of red
And whiskers of a snowy white
Still warm from exploits in the night
Confirm nocturnal visit real
And father thinks he still can feel
Small eyes upon his back as he
With love placed gifts beneath the tree
December 17, 2018 A Cute Christmas Couplet (in rhyme) Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
I meditate and envision on the purpose of the life that I want
It can't just be to be born - then later die alone, old, delusional, and gaunt
I want to really delve into the nooks and corners of who I passionately wanna be
I know I can be virtually anything if I set myself free and in me I believe
I've long learned the lessons of my morals, ethics, worth, value, and path
I've learned a long time ago to never dwell on your past
Cherish every day alive and well - as if it may be your last
Don't take for granted anyone or anything - and only help for selfless reasons
Remember if you truly love someone - it doesn't change like the seasons
Don't let your dreams procrastinate and float on by - chase and seize them
Never hold onto negative thoughts, words, or emotions - making you dim
Release the anger, ego, and bitterness - they'll only hinder your success
When you find yourself lost - stop and recount the reasons why you're blessed
As much as you can - tell those you love them every day
'Cause everyone that enters specific chapters in your life - aren't there to stay
Anyone you cross in this life - will either be there to compliment or complicate
They all have orders and their own strategies to deny or confirm your fate
Even in the unseen world, dimensions, realms - into the abyss of darkened fear
The demons, critters, and creatures that inhabit those lands - are far but so near
In this abyss, nobody's there, nobody sees you, feels you, or can even hear
If I were to guess - I think I got to this dimension through the antique mirror
Our love’s long day appears to have no end in sight,
And the din of our kisses reverberates to the bliss of eternities;
Yet our love is by Nature constrained to last for a blink
And our kisses are but mere short-lived vanities.
And even in the height of our blessed longevities
One heart must fall and leave the other alone to beat,
Whether mine or yours, one must the other survive;
And the divested heart will friendless roam from street to street.
Though life’s dear let that not be me;
To cry from hour to hour consoled by none,
To brave the chilliest hours of the night alone,
To grope in the darkness after my joys are done.
So if my prayer is heard and I before you decease,
Do not cry too much nor linger around my grave;
Instead pick a flower and smell it twice
And therein feel the scent of your honeyed fave.
And if you must mourn,
Do not cry until your eyes are red,
For once in a while I’ll turn to peep below
To console and confirm that I’m not dead!
MY CANCER JOURNEY
(so far)
Cancer comes and disappears
2 years pass, it reappears
More tests done confirm our fears
Cancer raised it's ugly head
A diagnosis we truly dread
Hormone therapy and radiation
Hopefully aimed at right location
Many trips to Allen Blair
3 more years and all seems fair
Then rising PSA we dread
Cancer raised it's ugly head
More appointments and more tests
Seems this cancer never rests
Cancer now has spread to bones
Drugs and therapy we hope postpones
The spread of this ugly plight
I don't have time, hold the phone
More shots to delete testosterone
And now I'm on abiraterone
And also add in prednisone
And what comes next remains unknown
My life is in God's hands, I pray
Regardless what oncologists say
I am so thankful for this day
I pray that God will let me stay
On earth for a bit more time
(I kinda like it here)
AMEN
Waiting for the light to change
(A busy urban street),
I noticed quite a gathering
Not far from my two feet.
Upon a sewer grate I saw
Some starlings pecking ‘round
Although I didn’t even
See a crumb upon the ground.
Their beaks dipped down, oblivious
To passersby or wheels,
Intent on filling up on what,
To them, comprises meals.
A couple flew away, replaced
By new ones in a flash,
Not plentiful as pigeons but
On city streets, as brash.
*the original title of this poem was "grackles on a grate,"
but when i googled to confirm that the birds i saw were,
indeed, grackles, i discovered they were starlings.
poetic license only goes so far...
Even with death
The Man’s gotta bargain a price
So I suppose that’s why that fat a** mortician
As a sales technique
Made my wife and I pick who gets to sit
From the one available chair
In his lavender lobby
For a full hour the morning after
Before he bothered to waddle out
Wiping bean soup from his forehead
Ushering us in to his office.
We asked to see my wife’s mother’s body
To confirm
I don’t know what, her proper arrival?
We were amateurs and he was offended
I could see him think
What difference does it make?
Possession is nine tenths of the law.
He managed to put his pen down
While he shifted a stack of paper
And heaved himself back up
From behind his chest high desk.
We followed him down to the basement
Of the old three story house
As if we were teens in a horror film.
At the bottom he creaked open a door
Peeked in
And I sh*t you not
He grunted under his breath “Hold on hold on.”
Then closed it fast and suggested we trust him.
We said Cremation
He said “Of course.
"We’ve been very busy with that these awful days.”
We wanted to talk colors and shapes of the urn
And to mention the pretty dresses she’d never worn
We found hanging by the dozens in her closet
We wanted to say something about the general agony
She lived within
The sleeves of her entire life
But pulling on his tie and clearing his throat
He wanted first to be exact with us
The cremation was $3000
And the car ride back and forth
To the Jackson Industrial Park
Was another $1500
Because she’d be riding in high style
Boxed up
In the front seat on the way back
And as well he’d need to see our credit card and ID
Up front
Before we proceeded any further
As if we could cheat him
Or change our minds
And reverse our mother’s departure from Earth.
Inspired by the heartbreaking moments of profound loss. There are no words when a woman miscarries. It cannot be described as a "loss". It is a death that affects a woman far beyond that experience.
My heart goes out with love and light to you and yours. May the colours come back in time.
Colours drain away
By Michelle Morris
17/05/2023
Red is the signal
Pain is the chaser
You know it's over
But you get the hospital to confirm
Red of blood
Of rage and frustration
Red of death and loss
And cell destruction
Blue is the mood
It descends so quickly
Lying there in the aftermath
Of all that could've been
Blue is the heart
As it turns cold and alone
That tiny essence
Is forever gone; forever gone
Yellow is the sun
It represents our hope
We live because she gives warmth
She gives life on Earth
Yellow is the possibility
The power in our bodies
We live and learn and grow
We become stronger with perseverance
Primary colours
That create all the others
And inspire our love
Our lives, our souls
Primary colours
We need them every day
They touch us all
Paint our memories vividly and well
The colours drain away
Inside your heart and soul
Your mind is grey
Not even black and white will do
The colours drain away
While outside the rainbow shines
Through all the raincloud mist
The world goes on, even if we don't
May you find peace one day
May you be healed in every way
May the rainbows shine for you
And bring colours back to your world
May your heart beat red again
May the blue shine in your eyes
May the yellow of your halo glow
Remind you of your angelic vibes
© Michelle Morris, 2023
Disconnected
No judging
No touching
No talking about feelings
No friendliness or greetings
No physical contact
Just a massive contrast
No eye contact
Just lost context
Every word is spoken in a flat dull monotone way
Stepping on egg shells to avoid mind decay
Like speaking to a different person
Who is going deeper into immersion
OCD flares, fear of spreading dust and germs
All done in order checked to confirm
Terrified of the things that arent there
Realising life is cruel and not fair
What is real and what is not
Inside the head it could be a plot
It’s just an illness accompanied by a shadow
Thought process cloud and narrow
Feeling unsafe inside crawling skin
Mind in a spin knowing it’s all within
Another’s fears isolate those around
Trying to assist and help you feel the ground
Their mental health affects others
Patiently waiting until you recover
Ideas and logic shot down hard
No care for other just disregard
No advice taken just more grief given
Trying to keep you safe without recognition
No love or friendship
Just words to break companionship
Only hate and sadness
A black hole with no happiness
Misery rippling through every phase
Every calm and decisive moment eyes glaze
Attempting to help you through
Meanwhile enduring the hatred you spew
The nature of this is just temporary
Every soul destroying phase necessary
Remembering this isn’t a personal attack
Just your demon shadow fighting back
The shadow is afraid of when you take control
Of when regain your mind and soul
A day a week a month or more
Life will not return to what is was before
Scars are left on the surface and deep
Knowing one day the shadow returns to critique
Every time they reappear you become disconnected
Every time you feel defected
The only thing defective it’s the disconnection
It spreads like a disease or infection
Talk and ask for support
Don’t get lost in your own thought
I will be here for you every single time
Some communication and it will all be fine