Long Constricting Poems
Long Constricting Poems. Below are the most popular long Constricting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Constricting poems by poem length and keyword.
Poisonous dreams haunt my night sleep
And through my veins these demons creep
Perilous spells rehearse in my mind
Trying to relax me and trying to unwind
Cold abyss I stay chained to the wall
Punishment for taking an invalid fall
Spiders spin webs constricting my heart
From way back in my past --- from the start
Vampires bite through my darkest fears
Blood splattering across shattered mirrors
Alone in an abyss I am destined to stay
To get out and escape --- there has gotta be a way!
Mind boils with survival thoughts
Bodies left on all sides of me to rot
Washing fears lie over my chest
Trying desperately to complete this test
I think of my weaknesses and all of my strengths
Drowning in a sea of loneliness throughout lakes
My happy thoughts of his deep blue eyes
No more questions of whens and whys
Chains were released --- I feel well!
With his thought --- I was banished from Hell
I am the prisoner of my own.
My heart, the dead worn four walls,
My mind, the voice burying me deep.
And my eyes, ashamed to look at me.
Love had measured me down,
Kindness stepped out.
Care abandoned me long,
Respect never came home.
I am the prisoner of my memories,
Of the times when cruelty was a stranger,
A prisoner of guilt I am,
A shadow standing taller than me,
Constricting me down deep,
No way out, just endless darkness it seems.
Oh I am the prisoner of my own.
My voice, it forgot my name,
My arms, refuse to hold me the same,
And my soul, locked away, far away.
Open your eyes ..
Love is a shadow constricting you up close
And when you sleep it lays next to you..
Love is a force that drags you, possesses you,
And fills you up with memories of today for a life of tomorrow..
Love is a sword cutting through the soul..
Leaving you breathless for eternal moments that will never come back
Love is like a feather blown by the wind,
And injected in our hearts by a single wish...
To never be alone!
Love is an aura..
We all have one, yet we can't see it or touch it,
We Have to believe its there, and it will show up..
..to give us a chance to trust, to build, to fall, and get up; over and over again!
A knot sits firmly
constricting breath-
a ball of emotions
impossible to name
Familiar in its discontent,
it's a weave of negativity;
a conglomeration of pain,
despair, abandonment,
anger, tears, and fear
amalgamated into this emotion.
One that can only be described
with the word You.
Years have filed its bite;
teeth worn with age
no longer hold their edge.
Yet somehow you appear
in the face of others actions.
A forgotten call,
an appointment not kept,
a gentle shove away,
a distancing,
all bring you back.
So once again,
I stare you down
as you sit heavy on my chest,
And I vow, this time
You will not bring me to tears.
But no matter, the words,
or tears held,
You sit firmly-
a knot constricting breath;
A ball of emotion
impossible to name
with any one word
except
You.
If you feel we evolve by chance,
here’s something that you must decide:
the type of steps that you will dance
explaining how blood cells divide.
Now only mammals do this split
which seems odd on the face of it.
For surely wings need oxygen
in the same way; where to begin?
See, mammals have erythrocytes
That have to squeeze in places tight.
Apparently, they found it scary
traveling the capillaries.
And so, it’s said, mutation error
found a way to meet this terror:
eject the red cell nucleus
and slide on through without the fuss.
Capillaries in a mammal:
needle’s eye through which a camel
passes, so the logic jumps:
just remove those great big humps!
And so is formed an apparatus
in an instant, all for gratis.
But wait! No, Darwin’s change evolves
through incremental change, resolves.
First the stem cells must divide
since capillaries are too wide.
Then, as we’ve discussed,
they must pinch off the nucleus.
To do this, cells must build a ring
That somehow pushes everything
within the cell all to one side,
constricting forces, slow applied.
A soft spot in the wall then sprouts;
the nucleus gets pushed right out.
Pinched out just like a bit of dough:
it takes ten minutes, rather slow.
From here, it seems, we pick the best:
enucleated blood cell test.
There cannot be an in-between,
emerging slowly on the scene.
It must appear in one fell swoop
for Darwin filters out the soup,
discarding any useless bits,
unfinished intermediates.
The magnitude of change required:
too great for chance; time has expired.
This leads some learned folk to say
it must have been designed this way.
After ~ The Straight And Narrow ~ Lies The Truth
A ~ cross the Universe an alphabet of disambiguation homed in blue and black chatea~ U
C~aressing symbols letter signs and meaning pretends categories ordered logic reason~N
R~espite from uncertainty constricting reducing pressure measured flowing as a ventur~I
O~n the road from comprehension a channelled funnel oscillating Zeitgeist’s leitmoti~V
S~uggests that everyone and everything can be charted defined with logic’s abducte~E
T~he fact and matter of the Universe however yields understanding from us the arbite~R
I~n open quest of search beyond the prisons chaining beauty towards more pastel blis~S
C~ome therefore and find soft shadows pink and purple and live emotion emigrat~E
05th November 2016
He neared the crest of the mountain and shouldered his bows and his arrows
They were heavy and laden with lead at times right were the feathers should be
Cap in one hand imprinted with ‘Just do it’ he approached all rapprochement
Trainers fastened on shoe strings of bewilderment the marks man held firm
Spread his legs for firm rooting and visualized wings prepared for the range
It was a fine day calm and serene the heat had cooled and the breeze had abated
Once firm in position he steadied his breathing prepared for the imminent task
The shafts were marked Past some Present or Future unbeknown which was what
They had been carefully labelled with memories contemplation and dreams
‘Let’s start wayward farer’ the shooter followed the first arrow with vigour
It landed far off the target in a wheelbarrow positioned to collect the spears
Practice may not make perfect in one straight line and the sportsman proceeded
Veered to the left and the right overshooting and crashing away from his aim
The competition was only against himself and his own aberrations and failure
Taught him about life nowhere close to bull’s eye and he got better at trying
He bowed to imaginary audiences gathered his gear and discarded his pride
Imperfection is a useful life coach and it improves resilience as an aim in itself
Brings patience and mindfulness and opens eyes away from constricting circles
05th March 2019
Anaphylactic identity, constricting logic on the
course towards infinity. Denial is drawn like a tarot
reading, citing that it is all in your head. Hidden
mysteries written in code - the key etched in our
divinity. Searching for a God who shoulders all the
blame while cartographing our lessons with fate
Absolute power behind the circuitry, plugged into
the all-seeing interface led by evasive clues to
keep the system powered up and running smooth
Damage created by those on bended knees,
pointing divisive fingers against our natural instincts
outside of the true spectrum. Wired up and held in
the place of duty - holding on to the inverse of
programmable time, like cogs in a wheel turning,
without enough consciousness left in holding
to seek for records with even a misguided way out
Secret vaults protected by monsters in captivity
Borders and walls surrounded by tales of
adventurous souls, looking upwards and onwards,
over the ocean, and rocketing into the sky. All so
the slave remains blind, swept up in fantasy of
daring escapes - illusions hold them down to work
harder, building an empire that has been falsified
underhand - stolen in the name of dignity. Written
on the tombs of despair to keep us longing for
something else outside of the current of what is
Then came the virus that attacked the hallucinating
code of deception. The binding network struck a
nerve, activating the cleaners to destroy the peace
that held like soldered resistors. The savior agents
dropped from their blinded curses, and took up
their swords like lightning rods. Connected by their
inner potentials, they set out to remind every neighbor
near that the codex has always been within
In early years there are hands
hands that are warm
That give you comfort
That wrap around you like protective vines
Vines that feel like a hug before you knew the word
But you grow
Bigger
Smarter
More curious
The hands change
They cool
They cool into metal chains
Constricting you
Your thoughts
Your body
Your growth
For a while, you keep looking backward
You replay the warmth they once gave you
From gentle to becoming a thing an escape is needed from
The more you dwell, the more you question
Why you?
Acceptance. Hard.
Change. Hard.
Harder is seeing others who still have hands
Hands that did not become chains
Hands that allowed them to grow
Very quickly you find yourself at the top of a mountain built off of resentment and jealousy
Staring only down at the outskirts
Of everything lost
Of everything hurtful
Of everything at the darkest moments
Thinking what's down there is next to come
But Before the outskirts come the core
So if you look down, right down, beneath you
A strangely familiar feeling may erupt
A feeling that can’t be taken away
That gives warmth
That gives comfort
although, its different
It is not the warmth that is familiar about it
It is what it is built from
The core uplifting you
is the support of your growth
your lessons
Your intelligence
Your education
Losing the hands to growth never meant the growth wouldn’t give you something greater
something that cannot be taken away
Something that cannot be compared
but it is easily missed it if you do not look down
It doesn’t just give you warmth
It shows you what your built from
And the resilience you do not recognize
Because you are way more than the outskirts you limit yourself to
The ocean churns, deep in the bowels of its great stomach
A scurvy, a barnacle, a flag flung high amast
From deep, deep down inside, below pressure boiling
Bones exploding, windpipes constricting
Where no human soul should inhabit
Down, down, down, where illuminates
All manner of unseen creatures
With crooked jaws
Electric lights of blaring neon green and soft sparkling
Pinks
And the color of glow sticks, that children wore ‘round their necks at skating rinks
Where no child goes now, the pull and the noiselessness of the silty bottom, where hagfish twist themselves over
carcasses like women scouring the streets for loose change
I imagine my body down there
Blue veins and stuff new
Resting in the Mariana Trench
Supine, arms floating upward towards light
sans soleil
A water dream, I am awake, fluttering eyelids!
All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel the…. I don’t remember the rest
Tears and sweat like the ocean
My heart is like the ocean
Yet I have columns of flame around me
And I pull on my t-shirt over my pale body
And drive myself to the ocean, letting cars pass
Wondering why
And when my bare feet hit the sand
My hazel eyes (or were they half blue and half brown? Nobody could ever decide!) are drawn to the expanse of water
Limitless possibilities, as the sun crowns the horizon
I reach out my hand to grab something
Across the eternal shocking blue
And what I grab is another hand
And it is my own