Long Convalescence Poems
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I was a classic 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air, in mint condition, admiral and white.
My owner had other beautiful, classic cars, like stars sparkling into twilight.
My owner loved his old cars, saying 'they don't make them like they used to;'
And I enjoyed getting out upon the open road, to show him what I could do.
My fellow cars and I saw lots of sunny days, in bliss freedom of the flowers,
Traveling the length and breadth of this land, in the clasp of jeweled hours.
Flighty friends and I recalled 'good old days,' in rosy sunset times of finally,
Laughing and talking our memories in darkness, as moon shone, indefinably.
Forever friends were like feeling family, in the floral days of fuchsia's reign;
When flitting, green butterflies fanned for long, and falcons flew like a train.
I lived in the house of pleasant shadows, which didn't have many windows;
For it was one huge room without a view, like a path without the primrose.
Sparkling summer sauntered in silently, creating such scenes on my street!
Silken clouds roamed, when Sam ran his errands. Traveling was ever a treat.
Neighbors made admiring noises about me, going off on rides in neon night.
We cars were the toast of the neighborhood, nice nostalgia, in a golden light!
Clown orchids had ceased performing, in gone days of purple, beard orchids.
Now their summer relative had the holy ghost, like bliss from many sources.
Mask flowers held beautiful mystery, in alluring hues of pink, cream and red;
Like sweet secrets of moonlit shadows, and violet dreams after going to bed.
Once, Sam and I were cruising Sunset Highway, for it was my turn that day;
While dear friends waited in the cool, quiet of home, for their chance to play.
I felt a sudden impact on my left, and I knew I was hurt! There was damage;
But if not for Sam's expert driving, we might not have been able to manage!
This had happened to me times before. Such is to be expected in a long life.
As ever, friend Sam was my Superman, my mechanic in times of cruel strife.
My convalescence didn't seem so long, as I laughed about old days with pals.
When streets were not very busy, and many listened to front porch musicales.
For we were darling, daring trailblazers, quaint old paving way for all modern,
Leaving lingering feelings of fond nostalgia, like lovely fall leaves which yearn!
Marvelous mitzvah "munchkin" minted
Thy eldest daughter Eden Liat
treasured more'n a pearl
(otherwise known as Rapunzel)...
donated cut hair to charity - you go girl,
ha, whereat your fine brunette locks of love
will be repurposed into wigs for kids,
and perhaps even don kepi
of trumpeting Bullwinkle, his Sciuridae
friend named Rocket J. Squirrel,
and/or his nemesis Natasha Fatale.
Kudos to thee savvy
twenty three plus year old offspring
voluntarily unwittingly hood
amazingly gracefully support
exhausting, flagging, grueling...
stricken young spirits and bring
joie de vivre during
treatment and convalescence
of challenging treatment ailing,
perhaps hoop fully nipping
terminal illness in bud
beaten into remission,
whereby family, friends medical staff sing
ode to joy cherishing
nothing short of a blessing.
Said sensible, smart and
stalwart inadvertent mentor,
a splendidly mirthful and mindful lass
yes, tis biased opinion, quite a
truckload of abilities she did amass
even fending bullies who tried to harass
attractive petite proportionate physique
confident smile shown back
courtesy looking glass
and papa cognizant,
how her art of humbleness
helped her succeed as top class
high achiever at Harriton High School,
especially acing rigorous
International Baccalaureate (IB)
(worldwide, nonprofit education program
plus even when just a little girl
attending Belmont Elementary
promise of success,
my feeble accomplishments
"star student" did quickly surpass
with flying colors earned free pass
concomitantly acquiring invisible
magic ring, and carpet made of brass
the latter powered by
Walt Whitman wrought leaves of grass
at University of Pennsylvania
earning stripes as Ivy League graduate
freelance activist while completing
internship linkedin with
University of Southern California.
Spellbound birth father
internally rejoices ta deum,
we knew e'er since Eden Liat
healthy growing fetus within the womb
whip smart progeny
undoubtedly healthy unbridled maturation,
I vicariously exalt storied accomplishments
accrediting and applauding
every iota offspring earned
blood, sweat and tears
created deafening sonic boom,
and where infinitesimal blazing saddle
burned blinding trajectory
catching eminent potential groom.
It's late or early, I can't tell which one
We're not on some secret island with a picturesque sun
The palm tree buildings; strolling holding your arm on these concrete beaches
Freedom building and living as far as the philosophy to be me reaches
I still remember it was those golden eyes I got lost in
Smokey sewers on those December frozen cold nights in Boston
Hand in hand with no plan but body warmth on dark streets
Time fades from my mind why did you decide to split me apart at Park Street
Our shadows like shallow words hollow; is time to blame for all of our sorrows?
And if Apollo brings tomorrow I vow never let anyone else to pill my heart and
swallow
From downtown to Lansdowne the evanescence of your essence
You presence once luminescent grew into the only thing that impeded my
convalescence
The acquiescence of your gentle lips set my soul on fire artist/arsonist
In the midst of happiness your betrayal a catharsis in the darkened mist
See the vitality in my veins? The hurt you left me with brought me clarity
And in reality I'll never be the same; this do or die mentality haunts me with
sincerity
In deepest of moments where I don't know where I'm going
I'm traveling unworn paths in the city that's never slowing
I think back not wanting escape despite the price I paid for elegant negligence
I don't feel the same heartbreak my heart used to partake and your face has lost
its relevance
We both know mishaps happen the knife in my back was like somebody slapped
me
I was angry for a while but life's to short to hold back; I just want you to be happy
She fades in the past; you shine now as mine through and through
Was it fate that brought me to you? Every time I talk to you we share something
new
With you every minute I'm so in it, this golden woven knit of your love and trust
shines infinite
In a bit we'll have fallen deeper intimate; you're holding my stolen past so
innocent
Like city converges with the sea your arms emerge freely right in front of me
Finally free, it seems we all just need that hurt to make us again breath and
believe
lub dub, lub dub echoes of the heart
just one sound that will tear it apart
its reins will tighten and choke the air sacks
fuselage lines squeezed from the fortress of plaques
the alarm is out to all cells standing in harm’s way
its possible they may not make another day
it could be sudden like a viperous bite
that could send the body into a shocking flight
tunnels are barricaded, tissues starving for blood
chemical stations are straining to get thru the mud
the flashing alarm has tripped, all responders are rushing
anti coagulators gown up to intercede and begin crushing
sirens in the rescue bunker, corpuscles set out to quell
can they get there quickly or will life end up in the well
detour routes are now flagged to allow an alternate flow
when safety is signaled all lanes will open and be set to go.
all commuter service has been put on red alert
predators do not interfere, let the squads tend to the hurt
second alarm sounded as there are many causalities
the impact is enormous, there may be reduced mentalities
life lines installed to improve the balance of nutriments
also to flush out the exorbitant level of ill condiments
recovery is expected although time is of the essence
mortality levels can rise post arterial strikes, during convalescence.
all teams called to aid in the tragic head on collision
will undergo precautionary measures for structural revision
efforts were made with fortunate outcome without a fatality
all inhabitants within the vascular circuit now have stable vitality.
this highway thru hell episode will be published in medical journals
to exemplify what occurs to inbound route and to those externals
echoes of the heart rely upon safety of all users of the track
drivers will have annual inspections for hazardous cargo like plaque.
this has been an inside look at actual effects of a heart attack.
and cast have been commentated for their heroic tributes.
the events has been edited for visualization but are true to life
The Construct of an Essence Forming
Collaborative custodians of remuneration for the poor
Commemorative symposiums on humans need for wanting more
Symbols of ancient mystery drawn upon cave walls
Thimbles of fragrant misery born from what a man recalls
A nieche in the marketplace, an advertisement that lies
A piece of someone’s face falling plastic from their eyes
The grief of the replaced calling out for compromise
Attitudes of servitude that call for investigation
Gratitude for the interludes that fall for the relief of compensation
Exactitude that can only conclude to stall the consternation
Platitudes that are borderline rude based on weak configurations
Instantaneous satisfaction born from greed and lust
Sub-cutaneous mathematical fractions that only scientists trust
Spontaneous interactions that are based on sense and must
Contemporaneous fine contractions that are born from the modes of break and bust
An ethical integrity that cannot be mistaken
Umbilical propensity that will not be mis-shapen
Ventriloquist alarmists miming political ideals
Soliloquies, pharmacists, timing hypocritical appeals
Contrite sensibility coming from a place of inherent goodness
Finite possibilities running the race of concurrent couldness
Hematite magnifications of ions colliding for war
Israelite pontifications of lions at the gates of Daniels door
Cocophonies of entropy expanding out through space
Topographies and symphonies sounding with an air of grace
Corroborrees and ancient trees expressing wisdom from a race
Soliloquies and poetry forming from a lifetime of disgrace
The basic convalescence of a soul pure as white
The corrupt adolescence as the whole begins to fight
The abrupt incandescence of a goal reaching the light
The construct of the essence of a mould in pure delight
Copywrite 2023 Elizabeth Morozl
I hold onto these secrets that I keep,
as I watched you rest in this eternal sleep.
I shall never know your wretched pain,
now only memories of illness remain.
This m e l a n c h o l y life has no joy to sustain
and I have nothing worthy left to gain.
I keep these secrets that I hold onto…
in eternal sleep I see your face of blue.
I held onto your hand watching you die,
as I watched your b e a u t i f u l life in awry.
I will never be able ease this selfish blame,
watching you from the rooftop exclaim
to all who you know who you became.
I knew your shame that you never overcame.
Watching you die I held your fragile hand…
watching your life in awry; I’ll never understand.
I hold onto your m u s i c when you were young
and that flawless melody that you sung.
I’ll never forget our complete connection,
devoid of ego and full of lovely affection.
Your hair so soft and your fair skin perfection,
now the shadows immerse in flooding reflection.
When you were young I held onto your music…
you singing flawless melodies; then you got sick.
I held onto my mourning I had at your tomb,
t h i r s t y was I for your poor life to resume.
No one will ever compare to your essence,
your selfless kindness and amiable quintessence.
From your death I’ve learned many lessons,
I only wish you could’ve found convalescence.
At your tomb I held onto my dreaded mourning…
resuming your life would have been adorning.
A Poem about DEATH
The chosen: "This Eternal Sleep"
Sponsor, Broken Wings
Date written: May 16, 2018
I walked knowingly into the trap
as a boat sails over Charybdis.
Afraid of showing tell-tale marks
up and down my arms.
I gave in to the lesser evil,
went astray, searching indiscriminately for an escape.
My search lead me to a certain type of website.
Taking refuge in my libido,
I removed my clothes, alone.
My body laid bare, for the asking.
My hands requesting to obediently serve,
on anonymous screens, no compensation required.
A grave and pendulous weight dragging between my legs.
The cucumbersome weight of my cathartic defilement.
A diseased organ between my ears.
Caught in that black hole,
my soul’s spaghettification.
Time wore on, the unseen eyes multiplying.
Demands getting out of hand,
stretching even the limits of my self-destruction.
“It’s 1:30 pm, gimme some lunch.”
“It’s 7:30 pm, I’ve got a sweet tooth.”
“It’s 11:30 pm, show me a story?”
“It’s 3:15 am, help me get some sleep?”
Even my pain drained away from me,
as my insides had, without count.
My soul, also ejecting away from me in fragments.
The catharsis transmuted into self-hate,
and so the coil twisted tighter,
I’d mistaken that numbness for catharsis.
Piece by piece becoming a useful, well used vessel.
A brush with death saved my life.
Seizing my mind and body
in every sense I could illustrate.
A convalescence began, seeding love.
My once desolate heart, fallowed, now fertile.
Love now sustains me. Though I’m a vessel still,
but now for healing, knowing shame intimately, without terror.
I bring it into the light, letting compassion overflow.
Cycling forward to completeness once more, finally whole again.
it’s hard to prioritize peace
But to rid myself of this unwanted pain
Of this tiresome situation,
I have to prioritize me
it took way to long to realize I Was stuck
In a cycle of love,lies,regret then disgust
And acknowledgement was my first step
To realizing there was nothing left.
But apologies and forgiveness
Tho my forgiveness run out
For my eyes have now dried
For I am no longer able to shout
I am unable to shed tears so I will no longer try
I rid my self of all my insecurities, all my reasons to cry,
For my cup has run empty
And I simply can not bare,yesterdays pain
Because I simply do not care.
And it took many situations for my care to run out
Please Don’t fool yourself into thinking this was sudden
It took the tears from what I actually needed
And You let my tears fall for nothing
And for that you deserve less,
Less than you’ve given me
however, I wish you a lover who is willing, I wish you peace
I wish you the ability to correctly portray your feelings
I wish you the contentment that I feel now
I wish that you reach where I am without figuring out how
It feels to be in my shoes
For I don’t think you could exist as me
And for that I look at you, I cry for you with nothing but pity
Which once was anger but I’ve learned to overcome
and through this rugged convalescence
I prioritize me, I am Done
with tears, with lies with withholding the truth
for I now prioritize my peace, my pleasure, my heart… I will no longer prioritize you
I am Twelve - My cynical composure is of my second nature - A constant, compatible
companion.
I am the Winter Solstice - Darkness is my Jesus, the losing light, my Judas.
I am Fourteen - Binded by the breaking basket to Brimstone, with heavy heart I instill my
identity in Lucifer's caress.
I am the mass of minions in your notorious night - Yet, as he watches warily, Lord Lucifer
intervenes my pathological perverted pretense.
I am Sixteen - And I watch those I call my kindred spirits as their earthly esteems are
crushed in a doomed dimension of distress.
I am a Gnostic Ghost - Regression, Repression, and wrong residence cloud my tiresome trail
to prolonged prudence.
I am Seventeen - Sweet success surmounted will send a tempest to those with hateful
hearts towards my continuous convalescence .
I'm a Courteous Comedian - And a sarcastic sermon of a writer's woe leaves simple
satisfaction, with my self in restless reminiscence.
I am an Ageless Apparition - And in this vexatious vessel, ,in this tainted temple, I long
for Lord Lucifer's law of survival of strongest, or a phantom's fall.
I am the Passive Pacifist - Dazzling the dawn, Dashing the dusk; negating the rest of
nightfall.
Light the lamp, Lord Lucifer, speak seductive sounds ... The Secret Salvation of My
Bedroom Walls.
Structures crumbling under the weight of
the decisions made in haste
Beneath the rubble lies all the reasons it was
all laid to waste
The signs were seen but disregarded as mere
means to an end
The golden mean would've sufficed but extremes
prevailed once again
Lack of faith in what is seen lead to harder lessons
learned
Some fight hard for their destruction so their path
is truly earned
You can preach until the cows come home but many
won't give a second listen
I guess the slaughter is more enticing to their
inhumane animalism
We're cannibalistic in a sense with the way we come
for each other
We've been deceived to come against & to fight
one another
Everyone loses at the end of days if we're overcome
by the night
We're in the midst of the battle of all battles with
those that wish to force a fight
They say that all is fair in love & war and that
purple hearts are a blessing
All I see are the wounds that decorate us while we
endure convalescence
Open your eyes unto the message before you take
further steps
I implore you to be righteous in your ways so that
you avoid oversteps