Long Deflate Poems
Long Deflate Poems. Below are the most popular long Deflate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deflate poems by poem length and keyword.
Two Words
Dream
Scheme
Beam
Team
Shout
Pout
Duel
Shot
Life
Death
Brain
Drain
Stupid
Cupid
Dumb
Numb
Rum
Thumb
Prosecute
Electrocute
Einstein
Infinity
Immigrant
Us
Atom
Bomb
Strength
Weakness
Love
Hurt
Fate
Destiny
God
Cosmos
Lucifer
Lost
Passion
Torpid
Feelings
Flatline
Politician
Huckster
Glorious
Despicable
Moon
Mars
Space
Race
Beguile
Style
Truth
Lie
Cake
Pie
Bicycle
Tricycle
Car
Jar
Balloon
Burst
First
Last
Lust
Like
Fist
Fight
Right
Write
Left
Deft
Genius
Idiot
Manners
Rude
Give
Take
Rate
Deflate
Washington
Jefferson
Hamilton
Burr
Trump
Nixon
Hitler
Wotan
Karloff
Lugosi
Frankenstein
Dracula
Foot
Fall
Think
Blink
Popcorn
Unicorn
Coffin
Fly
Fish
Fry
Good
Bad
Think
Drink
Smile
Scowl
Teeth
Towel
Grimace
Ace
Lash
Bash
Date
Hate
Hurry
Wait
Freeze
Animate
Brave
Wave
Holocaust
Heydrich
Fool
Drool
Slob
Blob
Dead
Undead
Alive
Thrive
Evolution
Revolution
Vampire
Umpire
Wire
Dire
Flour
Flower
Alien
Robot
Klaatu
Gort
Tower
Power
Rush
Hour
Talk
Walk
Hysterical
Empirical
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
July 8, 2018 (Short-Form Free Verse)
Lines are drawn. fists are clenched. Behind word-armor,
they stay entrenched.
Spit flies hot from either side,
Where grace and virtue no longer abide.
Signs hoisted higher still,
suchlike words spewing from mouth
Tongues like serpents,
like from the bible throughout.
With thunderous noise, no one hears;
Cries from the vile mistaken as cheers.
Tisn’t the words from their tongue that they choke.
But heavy taste of pepper, within the smoke.
Rocks depict the sky. Swarm like locusts.
Some declaring their mark, like words to poets.
Chaos and malice placed above devotion.
Running through their minds, is the serpents potion.
Skies crack open. Brilliance rendering them blind.
Panic sets in. The left and right entwined.
Then a sound; Not a sound, a choice.
In the silent and still thunders a voice.
“Narrow is the gate that most will not find”
“Honor your Father. Love all mankind.”
“Deflate your chest and lay down your gun”
“So saith the lamb. So saith the Son.”
And they, with open ears bow their heads.
They surrender their lines and head for their beds.
They bend the knee and ask forgiveness
Internal conviction, divinity, they’ve become witnessed.
Those who remain, their choice made clear
The word is there to those, who choose to hear.
OF LIVES PAST a haibun prose envelope
Perfection is an illusive pastime ,an unending quest that hides delusion in uncharted waters on life's path.Distractions,obstacles spring up unannouced, by chance,opportunities deflate in despair.Again,again,the siren's call. beckons innocent naivety,nothing is simple one is alive.
uniquely ourselves
littered by our obsessions-
loneliness cries out
One is alive ,each day, breathing,eating living, yet separate, alone but part of another,blood smeared by genes linked ,chain by chain in generations pattern.We wait and wait in line,repeating the same mistakes,treading the same circle.Imaging progress is reality,pretending we are wise and certain.Never to wonder why!
You may hear me recite this haibun and much of my PS anthology on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro.
Catch my short forms @strandpoet on twitter
Celebrate our souls
By Michelle Morris
17/08/2022
Sleep doesn't help
When it's your soul that's tired
You feel like you've gone a million miles
Away from your highest power
And in this Universe so vast
We feel so very small
We ask God to help us
When we stumble and we fall
We sometimes forget that
We are powerful too
For God made us from stardust
And gave us free will to choose
And the choices that we make
Can inspire or deflate our souls
We can conquer anything
If we make the effort boldly
The restlessness we experience
Is often when we're torn
When we are afraid to embrace our path
And become our best selves formed
And once we empower ourselves
Become all that we can be
We'll celebrate our souls
And make the most of our humanity
© Michelle Morris, 2022
What's up miss popular? People know about your greed
Ya, got the text. The "Hey, dotard, don't talk to me freak,"
The average joe, and those silly electronics"
Please, Click Itch, labeling others as the smelly geek
So many countless hours cushioning in luxury
Preparing to feed your lust, her dinner platter
Feasting on periodic table and splitting bonding
Then misguided paparazzi ask what’s the matter?
Dr. Gluttony's remedy, a coke and Mentos
Pridefully smiling as other families shatter
Expecting everyone’s contributions to the plate
Because, you are the modern-day narcissistic (*sore)
The search engines have endless pages on the topic
Upon your illusion throne, craving and wanting more
Deep down in the shadows, harbors your anger and wrath
Enviously fishing for a fresh party's primate
Yep, Scarlett, Megan and Kelly all have perfect cups
But don’t worry, over time your bim-bims will deflate
Sorry, Brittany and Jen both have the perfect butt
Though your horoscope says, “glutes are going to inflate”
Ma'am Trash Troll, you have not the cash flow of Uncle Sam
What A disgusting branded pathetic child you are
Your future will be a shabby truck driver's pit stop
Slothfully dreaming of becoming a super star
*Word changed
Updated 5/14/219
-Urban Dictionary-
1.Click Itch - An everlasting feeling of need to start clicking, usually on social sites such as Facebook, Instagram, Google, Pinterest, etc.
2.Dotard - An aging individual who has long lost the ability to make rational sense.
3.Cushioning - A dating technique where along with your main piece you also have several 'cushions', other people you'll chat and flirt with to cushion the potential blow of your main break-up and not leave you alone.
Form:
Lord, have mercy! Who is that in the mirror I view?
That can't be me with the gray-haired hue!
Seems only yesterday I was a jaunty thirty-five,
Now, I'm reminded that I'm nearing seventy-five!
What are those brown spots on my hands and face?
On top of my pate, I observe a sizeable bald space.
To further deflate my ego, I wear a pair of specs.
Alas, I'm rapidly becoming one of those mortal wrecks!
My teeth grin at me from a glass on the table,
And I have a cane handy to keep me stable.
In the morning as I arise I detect a creak.
Is that the bed springs or my bones making that squeak?
In church I must occupy the very front pew.
From the rear the preacher's words are hard to construe.
It takes me more time to shuffle around the block.
After all, I'm no longer a twenty-five year old jock!
Sometimes I feel as if I'm falling apart,
But thankfully there are docs, their services to impart,
And if they can manage to keep me all patched up,
I'll get around, thank you, as well as any young pup!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Ignominy hewed into comeuppance,
where yours truly aggrieved state
far worse fate
than becoming deceased, though
years gone by since meek kin
grievously afflicted soundly did berate
deplorable marital indiscretion
this mister (wordsmith) forced opaque
double life undetected
confession subsequently told mate,
she (nor eldest daughter)
riled, none to pleased, nonplussed
the latter (now living/working of late
San Francisco, California),
thus distance doth abate
plus elapsed time buffer zone
lessens lesson learned never to copulate
(best if done early at any rate)
still loathes (at least smolders)
apt appellation liaison found papa
caught with figurative pants down lil mandate
formerly loosed upon Venus to excavate
as no fallacy warm prickly didst deflate
no stranger as expletive ingrate
attests no more Casanova trait
deservedly called him regarding
extramarital tete a tete
apology made forgiveness accepted,
thou accept culpability I narrate
wife high infidelity transgression,
mine inferiority complex
sex seeded to emasculate
all throughout boyhood,
adolescence, young manhood,
veritable entire lifetime spate
whereby fourscore and seven years ago
minus seventeen orbitz hied dedicate
mastermind pursuit didst facilitate
matt's scott's getgo automatically
begat self worthlessness
dismal social withdrawal didst accentuate
courtesy threatening taunts,
name calling, bullying as master bait
helped discredit any shred and underrate
me yet, now vestigial self confidence
helps me to reevaluate
within calmer metaphorical seas
how to steer this wallowing,
lumbering, aging... frigate
plus a brief plug for Colgate,
nonetheless choppers rotted
legacy courtesy dental quandary...
subsequently oral crisis did abate
quick lemme abbreviate
courtesy periodontal disease
dentures fitted hence concludes
tracked train of thought I freight.
A hawk, moments after dawn,
circling.
Somewhere,
somewhere at the edge of near;
a somewhere known to the pessimistic
as far,
as there,
as not,
not
Here.
Not near.
Occasionally, a flashed shadow
over the sun-bleached apricot sky.
Just to the West.
Where the yellower light spills now
over the half-new roof and well-appointed chimney
of farm/field/stone.
Into the valley of clinging green
and the stone wall edge of the Farm
where the trees have one and all
forgot the late date.
They’ve
steadfastly, triumphantly, unarguably
argued for their summer-earned greens.
The moon is so high as to be unknown.
There above the maple.
There above the shred-ragged, yellowing
banana leaves -
the makeshift windvane of wavily oversea kelp.
Unknown
to the crook of neck,
to the poor sleepers,
to the cheap pillow resters.
It is such a slight sliver
that
it gives a cool shiver
to my flesh.
The momentary thought of,
a splinter of wood getting under skin.
The slight sharp sliver of dim silver moon
seems so sharp as to
threaten to deflate the dim blue,
the pale blue
October sky.
etherial entities, Elsewhere and Elsewhen
less than omnipotent but exceeding their parts
abide in Netherverse, universal children
intertwining potentials conceive child of their arts
a difficult birth through a point of positions
with a breath of inflation our Cosmos survives
face lights up with symmetry breaking transitions
a familiar fine face in the microwave skies
expanding bubble within a where-when ocean
two-way quantum cuddles along the interface
to us, top and bottom, a confusing commotion
to Cosmos, it's all around, warm parents embrace
and Cosmos communicates with siblings and friends
beyond overlapping membranes down massive black holes
at centres of galaxies where light bends and bends
re-meeting and greeting wild oceanic shoals
an ocean of learning, an endless becoming
made in the image of imagined potential
and listen closely, Cosmos is faintly humming
music symphonic with daring differential
keeping a rhythm that fast-forwards down aeons
then surfs the present and through time loops back
fabulous instruments, incredible crayons
sketch the past and future in one amazing track
and our Cosmos is tuned to the beat of life
empathy etched across a holographic mind
sharing grief and joy, the world weary cries of strife
the sheer delight of being, delirious and kind
awareness arises and then consciousness awakes
first galaxy focused on planets around stars
life teems, dreams and dances as intelligence outbreaks
escaping gravity's grip but leaving some scars
for pain and exultation, they fly together
space-timed, time-spaced, while smiling over horizons
Cosmos listens, then learns, needs touch of a feather
to fine tune core settings and cosmic liaisons
the task is great, for the infant bubble may burst
and then duly deflate to a point singular
or forever speed out so flat-lined and cursed
where, when, then... would learning be in story so far?
Ask for help
By Michelle Morris
10/11/2022
You're not sleeping, again
The anxiety has you beaten down
Coffee shops at 3am
Don't really help your cause
Life is a celebration
But even balloons deflate after the party
Things can't be upbeat all the time
And you aren't expected to smile about it
Take a deep breath
The first step is to admit there's a problem
Allow yourself to be vulnerable
Ask for help and accept it with grace
Not everyone will stand by you
And not everyone will understand
But true friends will be there
And help you through troubled waters
Take time for the self-care you need
Be patient and let yourself heal
Those scars will feel ugly for a while
But they reflect the reality of wars waged
Release the rage and indecision
Release the ego and self-loathing
Take the steps each day where you can
And try to enjoy the journey and revelations
It may seem like you're lost in the reeds
Or that you're sinking into quicksand
But ultimately you'll realise
That you have strength and power within
And one day you'll look back on this
Whether a year or ten from now
You can overcome so much, my friend
If you allow your love and hope to prosper
© Michelle Morris, 2022