Long Disabled Poems
Long Disabled Poems. Below are the most popular long Disabled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disabled poems by poem length and keyword.
I met a man from the East
While visiting the West.
He was dancing with a northern girl,
Drinking wine made
In the South.
I joined the company
And sat among my fellow countrymen.
The DJ played a Western song;
A lady jumped high
And staggered to my table.
She was from the Black Eastern country.
I took a turn with her
And fell in love with
Her friend
From the White Empire.
Every story was written to remember:
Our skin tones were just colors.
We were enjoying the souls
Living underneath those skins.
She asked about my Catholic rosary,
And I wanted to exchange it
For her Anglican hymns book.
“My God—your God,” she said,
“Are one.”
So she asked me to marry her
In a mosque,
And pray at Buddha’s church
For our future.
What’s important is life:
Not race, not religion, not wealth.
Life taught me more than love alone.
Last week, our minister
Married a disabled woman
Who owns the biggest supermarket
In the city.
Disability is not inability;
That’s their life.
Life is not just watching
The sun rise and set;
It is not merely seeing
Years pass, and grey hairs appear.
Life is love, unity, and loyalty.
The world may be wide
But would be just a village
Without racism or greed.
I wonder what it was
Before man discovered
Guns, spheres, swords, and other weapons;
Before politicians clenched their teeth
At citizens and opponents,
While their bellies grew ever larger.
My fiancée and I
Took her fair London skin
To my dark countryside,
Where African mothers share everything
From water streams to sewing needles,
And African fathers gather their families
All evening to tell stories
Of their youth.
She preached to me
How European parents take
Their children to watch
Soccer or movies.
Those are the lives we should build
And spread.
We should infect the world
With peace, not disease.
i smile at people all day long
young and old
fat or skinny
abled or disabled
strange looking or plain as can be
it’s all the same
but when it comes to me
too fat too wrinkled too old
i’m full of criticism
and i can hardly bear
to glance into the mirror
if this would be a friend
confiding in me
i would be appalled
i would shake them and
tell them they’re crazy
and to snap out of it
so hear me, you be my witness ~
i’m committing here and now
to wear my grand-mother’s ring
(the most beautiful woman in the world)
to remind me beauty is in the heart
we should remember always
that kindness is what’s beautiful
and keep that earwig in our ear
AP: 2nd place 2025
Buried deep in polluted feelings,
slight is the comfort of nightly news
the silence around Arch of Triumph
will it always be as now?
This tragedy I still cannot fathom,
the wicked hand of destiny has
humbling lines with no shade of virtue
or hope. Time
used to fly and now
the eternal sea of time has dried up
its creatures crawling by my side, a
scornful sight!
Pencils and papers, alas
writing is no refuge, piss on them.
Cross over torrents, cheated visions
our inglorious race, keeps faith in basement,
its noise chased away, and the shady floods
of pitiless waves, like thunder-blasted trees
crowd a doomed struggle. This virus
is too powerful to destroy, gushing mutants
at moment of oblivion.
All my days are trances, I dwell alone reading
Neruda's Song of Despair, listening to Virus's
last laughter to my curses born of
nausea. A ghastly thought: we all
underestimate the severity of situation
speaking lies to our power to heal, to
restore our dreams, disabled reason,
aching brains gunned down by
nervousness, the old masters who taught us hope
are dead, their fiery strengths
gone. The darkness wraps, its symptoms
everywhere, the vulgar nature's breeding
the next war, give not the gentle nod of
denial, the false vigor unworthy of
quotation. The ordeal is dress rehearsal
for the next pandemic.
Screaming inside myself,
I no longer want to deal with the pain,
I have forgotten who I am,
What was my purposs on this earth,
Was it to live a life time of pain, shame,
I'm screaming in the dark,
Has my life falls apart,
Screaming at myself,
For I wasn't strong enough,
To stay on my life's path,
My refection Is looking back at me,
Who is she, I don't remember,
I no longer see the happiness in her eyes,
I only see the tears she cries,
She sad and broken down,
I'm screaming in the dark,
Has my life falls apart,
Screaming at myself,
For I wasn't strong enough,
To stay on my life's path,
I have locked my self away,
Away from all the pain,
My eyes show no life,
All my hopes vanish in the dark,
All my dreams disabled by the dark.
I'm screaming in the dark,
Has my life falls apart,
Screaming at myself,
For I wasn't strong enough,
To stay on my life's path,
Written by Davina Browne
27/01/15
WHAT A BLESSING HAVING AN AEROSPACE ENGERINEER DRONE PILOT FOR A GRANDDAUGHTER 8 CHILDREN 26 GRANDCHILDREN OUR MEMORIES ARE SO PRICELESS MY HOME WAS BROKEN INTO IRONICALLY THE THIEVES CLONED MY PHONE TRIED TO DELETE MY LIFE CRAZY STALKERS THEY WERE OLD PHONES 7 OLD CELL PHONES ALL THE DATA SAFETY STORED THESE OLD PHONES I KELP FOR MY MEMORIES BY GOD GRACE SHE WAS ABLE NOT ONLY WAS SHE ABLE TO RESTORE MY PORTRAITS KEEPSAKES SHE WAS ABLE TO UPLOAD THEM TO OTHER DEVICES THIS WAY I COULD DELETE AND MAKE SPACE FOR NEW ONES ESPECIALLY WHEN YOUR STORAGE IS FULL USING YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS YOU COULD CONTINUE TO STORE WITHOUT LOSING IMPORTANT MEMORIES AWESOME WITH A MEMORY VAULT OUR MEMORIES ARE SAVED IT'S ALSO GOOD WHEN BUYING A NEW PHONE JUST UPLOAD THE OLD GALLERY TO YOUR NEW PHONE WHO CARES IF THIEVES BREAK IN CLONE YOUR OLD PHONES MY HUSBAND PHONE WAS EASY HIS PHONE HAD ONLY DUPLICATE PHOTOS OF ME WE RESTORED THOSE AS WELL OH WELL SO IF YOU EVER LOSE YOUR PHONE YOUR DATA IS ALWAYS THERE I GUESS THATS WHY FBI AGENTS COPS CLONE CELL PHONES ALL THE TIME SORRY STALKERS EVERY PORTRAIT HAS ALREADY BEEN STORED THROUGH BACKING UP NEVER LOSE A MEMORY AGAIN KEEPSAKE MEMORIES VAULTS THE SHEER HORROR OF BEING HACKED YOUR PHONE IS CLONED THE HACKERS CAN SEND TEXT MAKE CALLS DESTROY HUMAN LIVES MY STALKERS WERE CORRUPTION THEY HAD THIS POWER TO EVEN SEND BOGUS TRAFFIC TICKETS REEKING HAVOC ON MY DISABLED VETERAN SO PROTECT YOUR FAMILY IT'S THE BEST THING MY FAMILY EVER DID THE HACKERS WOULD CHANGE YOUR EMAILS MY STALKERS ACTUALLY USED HER BLACK FACE TO OPEN MY PHONE WE REPLACED THOSE PHONES WITH UNHACKABLE ONES SIMS CARDSVAFTER SIM CARDS SHE WOULD BREAK IN GRAB OLD PHONES SEARCHING OUR DESK FOR PASS CODES EVEN BANK CODES ACTUALLY ATTEMPTED TO DEPOST A CHECK FRAUD WASTE AND THE TELLY HACKER CLONING DEVISES IS VERY SCARY SHE TRIED HACKING INTO GOVERMENT ACCOUNTS IT WAS A HORRID ATTACK ON DISABLED AMERICANS I RECIEVED THREATS BLACKMAIL EXTORTION TODAY WE ARE AWARE AND SAFE WITH DATA LITERALLY
My non-communication
and dissonant
dysfunctional miscommunication,
and occasionally aggressive
challenging win/lose dogmatic
refusal to bother with communication,
These all degeneratively punish
and unpleasantly neglect
open systemic civility
With marginalizing effects
further reinforcing
disempowered
and unenlightened
trauma-avoiding behaviors
Toxic for those most wounded
and disabled
by LeftBrain dominant
monotheistic divine omnipotence
v hedonistic human non-verbal
non-violent impotence
A non-communion corporate spirit
of LeftBrain individual is supreme
divisive worldview
harboring "gifted" classrooms
and partisan parties
and elitist societies
for StraightWhite
anthro-hierarchical evolutionary power
to suppress RightBrain
healthy multicultural Trust
wealthy with indigenous
natural/spiritual Beauty.
Resonant resilient communication
strings of thriving v merely surviving
history may invite a long operatic organic epic
but does not necessarily suppress communion
of non-verbal healthy-wealth intuitions,
does not repress
felt polysensory-neural healthcare
community
Passionate gratitude
positive attitude
inspired by sacred place
of generous natural Trust
meets secular incorporated time
to co-invest in ubiquitous spiritual Beauty
Communicating mindful thanks
humble joy
reminds me
my "disability" labels
lie uncomfortably close
to dis-enabling resonant integrity's
deepest sacred potential,
resilient love communication
in multicultural experiences
of abundant
serene win/win
resonant communion
Wide passions
of co-empathic gratitude
for each day of Truth thought
is also Beauty felt
growing in multi-sensory resonance
neuro-systemic health-is-rich-wealth
polyculturing resilient communications
Prevailing over non-communication
and dissonant
disempowering miscommunication,
and occasionally aggressive
challenging oppositionally defiant
unenlightened refusal to bother
communicating sacred
space expanding
compassionate co-passions.
I suppose the blows from
your dark fist gets softer
with time spent running
for my life I mean your
face seems to fade a little
bit more when I’m sitting
in mass or singing in the
choir tears always roll just
thinking how god must’ve
felt watching you blungeon
my back always my back
remember you rushed behind
pretending you were giving me
a big hug and brutally crushed
my chest with your bare hands
what a gifted batterer watching
my injured breastbones pertrude
on my sides but twisting my
arm was the worse only because
I got to see the way your tongue
hung your mouth like you were
working on a car trying to remove
a stubborn bolt when a loud pop
there you got it my arm hung like
slinky the blows I suppose are a
bit lighter now overtime I mean
useful tips tea bags dark glasses
I still have no feeling in the dent
in my back where that giant stone
landed my doctors treated with
gauze cellulitis infection nerve
damage I always felt the blow’s
should someday become a bit softer
over time I never waited around
to see your response not the
last time I fled it finally sunk
in that you was actually going
to kill your wife if I stayed it
would be my fault that you
murdered your own wife
I would be the blame for my
own murder so I ran and ran
even today I look over my
broken shoulder wondering
which one of my broken bones
or bruises were your most
triumph which one of my broken
bone made you feel the most
victorious over me which blow
made you feel like the champion
wife beater I’m numb wondering
what’s goes through your mind
after seeing me broken bruised
by your powerful fist crippled
emotionally weeping disabled
afraid clutching my children
tell me how tell me true just
how would you rate your most
famous most memorable blows
Michael was run over by a bus when he was just fifteen,
He played football for Everton’s junior or youth squad,
But suffered an acquired brain injury, a fractured skull,
Which gave him mild Cerebral Palsy in his body, quad.
Everton suggested to him he try their disabled team:
“To be honest, I was a bit skeptical. I didn't class myself
as disabled. I'd just had an accident, that's all…I was
surprised by the high standard. [It was a first class shelf].
These guys were good. The standard was [much] higher
than I'd previously played…I knew I would have to work
hard to get in the squad and it felt good having something
to work towards.” Michael says disability is mental work.
As a young man Michael played alongside Wayne Rooney,
Because he comes from Liverpool and loves Liverpool.
He was born on the 28th day of July in the year of 1987,
And has represented GB for 11 years in 7-a-side football.
In 2011 he was the top scorer in the CPISRA World Cup,
The tournament for footballers with fine Cerebral Palsy,
Which was held in that year in Holland, the Netherlands,
And he won the Golden Boot award for his cool dexterity.
He played in Beijing, his second Paralympics was London,
Where he was substituted for the captain, he wore the band,
In Rio grand Michael scored GB’s only goal in the 35th min
Of their last game, which ended them in 5th place, 5th stand.
I saw her sitting in a wheel chair,
crippled, mute and almost hairless,
over pumped with chemotherapy,
and aged more than she really was.
Yet I prefer to remember the one date
we had a long, long time ago.
Oh how she laughed that day
as we swam in a lonely bay,
stumbling on the wet sand,
tumbling and turning, the white grit
covering our bodies, infiltrating our suits.
Finally we jumped into the sea, dived down
to bathe amongst sea horses and anemones,
and kiss beneath the shimmering surface of the sea.
Later that night we danced to soft music,
gorged on the sweet smelling bar-b-q piglet,
and drank homemade sweet wine.
Not for you, my mother said, and I was mad.
But mum was right. Soon my date married,
had four delightful girls, till she escaped with them
and with a rich man to another place, another state,
until ill fate struck. And seeing her thus disabled,
tears welled in my eyes, not only for what she had become,
but most of all, for what she could have been.
Alas I will never forget…..
THE SHEER FINDINGS OF A FAMILY SUFFERING WITH MENTAL ILLNESS YOU TRY AND FOCUS MOSTKY ON YOUR TRIGGERS FIR ME ITS WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM JUNK SICK COPS SELLING DRUGS WITH MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND TODAY MY.MILITARY FAMILY CONTINUES TO COPE PTSD ON JOHN MCCAIN LEVEL ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE PTSD SITUATIONS IN AMERICA AS MY FAMILY RELIVE TRAUMA THE SHEER FACT JAMAICAN DEALERS POSING AS FBI AGENTS MANIPULATING MY DISABLED SPOUSE INTO ATTACKING HIS ENTIRE FAMILY WE FOCUS ON 1969 MY BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND ASSIGNED BY THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT TO ATTACK FRED HAMPTONS BREAKFAST PROGRAM KILLING PRESCHOOLERS TODAY MY HUSBAND NAMED AFTER A GRAND DRAGON MARRIED TO ME A CIVIL RIGHTS LEADERS NAME MY DEATH PLANNED BY THE GOVERMENT MY HUSBAND ARRIVED WITH TROOPS LOADED BLANKS DEVESTATED FROM VIETNAM BEING LABELED BABY KILLERS REFUSING TO KILL LITTLE BROWN AMERICANS IN CHICAGO INSTEAD PREVENTING THE SHOOTING DEATHS AT FRED HAMPTONS BREAKFAST PROGRAM I WAS A PRESCHOOLER WHEN THEY ARRIVED WHAT A BLESSING OUR PATHS CROSSED TOGETHER WE ARE THE AMERICAN FAMILY WE ARE AMERICA BEING TRIGGERED BY CORRUPTION ORGANIZED CRIME ABUSE OF POWER FALSIFYING HELL ON EARTH WHAT TRIGGERS PTSD WHAT COMFORTS THE TRAUMATIC EVENTS HOW TO PREVENT A PERSON WITH PTSD FROM RELIVING TRAUMA PREVENTING STAND OFFS PREVENTING CRISIS SITUATIONS HERE IN AMERICA WE ARE AMERICA'S DISABLED FAMILY WE ARE HOME