Long Disappointed Poems
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Life carried on brushing up pain
Each day I could hardly remain
Darkness seemed to be my only course
As I falter and enter ultimate remorse
I could not see what's going on before me
As life seemed dim I could hardly see
There only seemed to be one way out
Only one that I have known about
Sleeping pills were taken extremely
All at once, I was feeling sleepy
In a last minute impulse I called emergency
They swiftly came as I was quickly
Fading fast from this course of reality
I was nodding off to sleep completely
They kept me barely awake to the hospital
Where I was contorted to spill all
I was gagged forcefully as darkness came
Awakened again to find more pills taken
My throat agonized with pain within
From the horrible gagging motion
Pill after pill flowed out of my mouth
As I neared closer to oblivion, further south
Finally I was allowed to sleep
My dreams now were mine to keep
When I awoke people surrounded me
Looking very worried, disappointed really
I had survived the attempt on my life
A fear I will always remember, the strife
Now the world is back into my life again
The pain is seemingly always pounding within
Worry is written all over my family
Fear escapes my mother’s eyes completely
They do many tests to see if I’m stable
Then the diagnosis is depression, certifiable
Therapists become a part of my new life
All present and accounted for, no new strife
Things weren’t anywhere near like they were
When everything was dark, fearful for sure
I hated life, it was lifeless, demure
Then it seemed I had the perfect cure
But life chose me, and I survived
Now things work simply and I thrived
I had the presence to make the best
Of what life brings, to take in the rest
I hold dear now all things that this life brings
A warm feeling comes when fear is fleeting
A perfect happiness comes from simplicity
Bringing complexity down to earth sincerely
Love came swiftly with joy in the heart
Never felt more pure, never to be torn apart
Now that I had survived the brush of death
I now take pleasure in each and every breath
This is what happens sometimes when death knocks
And life gets switched around, time tick-tocks
Now since the terror has come and gone
Joy and pleasure have arrived as one
The future now looks a lot greater
Now that death will be a lot later
Russell Sivey
Entrant into Richard Tarr's "suicide survivor" contest
11/12/2012
You never cease to amaze me with your powerful, awesome poetry
It fades away my depression and anxiety as my fretfulness and fears dissipate
You never please evilness and malice in your words of peaceful liberty
You throw shades at negativity and uplift with your positivity with your words of shameless love and no hate
Your state of mind is extremely, purely surreal and beautiful
You’re a poetess of plenty of wise words from high above
You never hesitate to shine bright, straight from your precious soul
You’re a progress marked with unconditional love
These teardrops are meant to fall, but all and all,
They fall away just like my disarray and dismay this shimmering May
The moment I saw your words, I stand oh so tall
Your unique forgiveness is a shimmering sea in my mind’s eye today
These torn-up teardrops were meant to fall
The moment my silly, foolish heart fell almost apart
But, sorrow from within faded away after all
You restored grace and hope to my verses from the start
I weep rivers of radiance, rolling around in the deep
The afternoons and nights spent with me, reading your lines of poetic passion
I cry away the tears of hopelessness that I do reap
The tunes of heaven’s heights couldn’t get higher the moments I witness your compassion
These teardrops were meant to fall, I’m meant to stand tall and all
And rise up like the sun-drenched sunrise minutes after dawn
You turned my grief into happiness and made me tread the hopeful hall
And I will climb mountains and roam forests to move on
You never fail to amaze me with your play with words so clever and sweet
You never make me feel disappointed and deceived by your poetry’s pensive, positively provident beat
This is my delightful dedication to your poems of peace that diminishes the chaotic dread
This is my inspirational, motivational words for you to be hopeful and happy for what lies ahead
Thank you for all you do by sharing your genuine, genius grace
It’s awe-inspiring, jubilant people like you that make this life’s race
Worth running for, worth keeping my steady, yet swift pace
I can’t help but adore this everlasting joy in my heart and it’s like a much-needed, family-fervent embrace!
- this poem is dedicated to my awesome poetess friend on Facebook, Lora Lee, who writes wondrous words in poetic form. I wrote this poem at work today.
''A good deed is rewarded with an evil one'',
Said the snake ready to bite the poor fox
That had just set the snake free
moving the boulder from his hole.
''This is not true'' she replied
With a fear in her eyes
''I am ready to show you why''.
So the poor, yet sly fox took the snake for a ride
To show him that good can dominate over evil.
They passed together mountains of snow
Along with seas of gold.
In the middle of their course
They met a white, beautiful horse
With eyes dry, sitting lonely on a field.
''What are you doing all alone''? The fox asked.
The horse turned lazily his white head and said:
''After ten years of devotion to my master,
After ten years of love, he left me here
Alone and hungry to die forgotten from all''.
''See? The snake smiled,'' evil is stronger than any good, I have to bite you''.
''No'', said the fox, ''I know the world and that is not true, come with me,
I'll show you''.
They passed green fields of storm, deserts of thirst
Until they came across a fat cow.
''Hello'' waved the fox. ''I want to ask you something.
Do you think that a good deed is rewarded with an evil one''?
''Of course'', said the cow. ''I always offer my milk to families, to children.
But now, that I am old, I can't give them anymore.
So, they are ready to kill me and eat my meat''.
''I hope that by now you know that good is nothing in front of evil''.
Said the snake and his tongue of poison slipped away from his mouth.
''Give me one last chance to prove you that you are wrong'',
The fox sadly replied.
They passed cities of red lights, roads of distance.
Suddenly, they see a hungry man with cloths torn
Running to steal a woman's purse. The man was thin and weak
As he could not keep balance he falls in front of the woman's legs.
The woman sees him and with compassion says:
''How many days are you foodless my poor man? Come, take some money
To eat and buy new clothes''.
He takes the money with his trembling hand, the woman sheds a tear and leaves.
''You see?'' said the fox, ''a good deed can change any evil intention''.
She didn't finish her words and the man stands up on his feet,
Runs towards the woman and grasps her purse with a violent move,
Dropping the terrified woman on the road.
The fox watches frustrated and disappointed. Turns to the snake and says:
''What a world! Just bite me''.
Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, Americans, and the world:
In the crucible of revolution, our forefathers etched their pledge—
a bold testament inscribed not solely in ink,
but in the quiet, relentless pulse of divine dependence.
It is as if the ink itself carried whispers
of a celestial covenant,
affirming divine Providence
into the very marrow of liberty.
Yet, as time past,
present battles won,
and future problems solved,
liberty's nation absolved themselves
from any responsibility
to the Providence from whose
sovereign ties
freed them from foreign foes.
And man's purpose became his own.
Hear this
If our purpose is in just us,
we will find we have lost ourselves,
encased in the cells of just-ice.
For if our forefathers found it requisite
to declare our nation's independence by
recognizing their dependence on the
"Laws of Nature and Nature's God"
beyond the limits of
mankind's powerful facade,
facading the source of
our country's origin,
our homeland's dominion,
foraging a jurisdiction of humanity alone,
thereby ascending mortality's throne
above the divine --
making mankind superior to the
"Supreme judge of the world,"
a position our forefather's forbade
"appealing... [In] rectitude...of [their] intentions"
to a God they believed in,
a declaration sovereignty -
bowed in solemnity,
proclaiming “with a firm reliance on the
protection of divine Providence,"
a dependence on a God they
entrusted their dependence to.
Who are we to say any different?
What difference does it make
if we believe in God or ourselves?
As the good word says,
"Shall the axe boast itself against him
that heweth therewith? or shall the saw
magnify itself against him that shaketh it?
As if the rod should shake itself against
them that lift it up, or as if the staff
should lift up itself, as if it were no wood."
For Godhood is to create,
and man was created by God.
And should man boast himself beyond
Him who spawned ages beyond ages,
he shall find himself his brother's pawn,
despondent, disheartened and disappointed,
foraging for the framework
of freedom our forefathers foraged,
overwhelmed by the damage
of a fallen nation who failed
to hear the caution within
the clarion calls of its creator.
This is a warning
from neighbor to neighbor.
Breaking into abandoned psychiactric centers isn’t as fun as it seems.
Oh, some nights have I had.
I don’t feel too well.
I just need to let everything pour out. To come out onto the screen and paper and wall and floor and everywhere I
can transfer it to.
Once again I am sitting here alone while my roommates have all gone out to drink. Drink. Drink. College. College.
Are my children going to be disappointed to hear I wasn’t the party girl? Will they be sad that I don’t have repulsive
stories of vomiting and one night stands? Why do we do this?
Is that it? To tell our kids - to create a person - to create a personality - to construct a mask.These masks are not
colourful or flashy or expensive. These masks are plain white plaster. Whitewashed wisdom. Everyone wears this
mask. No defining characteristics. You can’t really tell if the person next to you is your closest friend or a complete
stranger
Here I sit with my eyes closed. This entire time. I did all those things and pushed myself further and further into a
sedated state that I can hardly remember.
Suffering is the best thing for an artist. Every artist was an addict. An addict of some sort. Some sort. Some sort of an
addict. Maybe that’s what I need - maybe that’s why I still do this - maybe that’s why I stay home when everyone isout
having a “good ol’ college time.”
Not a recluse. I swear.
He can’t hear me but I can hear the sludge of sounds though the telephone. I’m sitting up so as not to let my thoughts
become sluggish although they do such a thing on their own. My entire body has been injected with a cloud. It is
floating through every extremity, every vein, every cell. I lay limp and wonder how it’s possible to even do this. To
function at all.
My stomach feels empty but I know what it holds. The imagine in my mind of my insides housing some bodily fluid
and a plethora of dissolving pills. Plethora may be an understatement. Dissolving and fizzing and melting and the
thought of that the thought of that the thought of that... that makes me sick.
Dissolving in cold stagnant water. Sitting sedating. Satisfied, thouhg? I don’t know how I got here. I’ve been sitting
here the entire time but what happened between when I first took seat and this very moment.
All of you. Take off your masks.
There’s thousands of puzzles that have never been solved and never will be
Please excuse my OCD as it floods my brain completely
I’m a man of cold hard evidence
As I’ll be sure to fax you all my fax complete receipts
As they continuing printing
“Follow me, I can give you answers you didn’t know you needed”
What he whispers in the ears of the vulnerable
Dear prince of fallen angels,
Tell me every demon was once apart of heaven
She could have dropped her sword and ran
But instead she used your words against you indisputably
She runs away with the weight of the world on her shoulders,
and the power to turn any metal into gold
And any heart into a slave for her idolized soul
She had the politicians begging for answers and writing down notes
While your fathers prayed tenfold
There’s thousands of unsolved crimes that have never been solved
and never will be
And there’s no justice in higher security
But the warriors in red have a hold of me
Showing me a more progressive way of masculinity
While your fathers blew their money on tokens of affection,
Paying for love tenfold
There’s a million questions I have about my mind that have never been answered, and never will be
Like why my OCD has to take over me completely,
Repeating the same lines to myself quietly
I feel like a mental patient in my own hospitality
Writing novels of accountability
While your fathers were on their hands and knees
With blood on their hands,
Screaming “why did this happen to me?”
Like feeling relief after a break up
Something was your sign all along
We either don't see it until it's too late
Or we choose to ignore it
And you can't convince me otherwise;
Spies have one job
And yours was to be a part of my life
I'm used to feeling disappointed
But that doesn't mean it gets less scathing
And you can't convince me otherwise;
A spy has one job
And with the blood on your hands,
Caught red-handed,
You failed at only disappointing me slightly
You didn't have it in you to give me the bare minimum
Like the warriors before you that dropped their swords and ran,
Regretting their choice of a life of violence over romance
Dear prince of fallen angels,
Please remind me that every demon was once at the hands of God,
fighting for forgiveness tenfold
So after I told the crowd
in the store that I was
not Dolly Parton,
they quickly went away
disappointed and forlorn like,
going over to the dairy
to pick up some milk,
tried to stay calm as I
noticed pictures on
the back of the milk cartons
of my former self,
then I quickly drove home
and put the groceries
on the shelf,
thinking this disguise
isn't doing me any good,
decided to wear a
long red wig around
the neighborhood,
thinking now I can
finally relax again,
until people started
thinking I was Naomi Judd...
Then I noticed the
amish mafia guy
at the local 7-11,
I quickly drove away
to the local police station,
where they put me up in
a convent for
witness protection,
where Mother Superior
gave me my habit to wear,
and with it some long underwear,
calling me by new name
which was now Sister Rose,
she made me feel inferior,
as she was always looking down on me
with her big holier then thou nose,
the routine was to wake up every day at 4 a.m.
going to the chapel to pray
and say a lot of amens,
then having a quick breakfast of
coffee, bread and water,
then onto the cleaning
which lasted several hours,
washing and ironing the nuns
and priests clothes everyday,
cleaning the floors and toilets
with a tiny toothbrush
to my dismay,
dusting and vacuuming
all the rooms,
maintaining the large
farm using an old broken down mule…
At night I'd go to bed on
the lumpy old mattress,
feeling exhausted, lonely and famished,
hearing nothing but my stomach
complaining and grumbling,
thinking to myself
this is worse than the amish!
So tying some bedsheets
together I jumped out
the convent window,
ran all the way as
fast as I could and
started to hitchhike
on the turnpike,
it started raining and a
car finally pulled over,
quickly jumped in
only to discover,
the amish mafia guy
who looked
like Al Pacino give me
a big wide grin…
thinking to myself
not again...
Addendum: She finally escaped again and settled in Timbuktu where thank God nobody recognized her and where she made friends with the natives there who just happened to be so primitive they got her at spearpoint to make all their clothes and food from scratch, clean all their huts, make baskets and pottery, be the nanny for their tribal kids, hunt lions and tigers for meals……….
Memories of Our Summer Romance: A Collaboration
Today I've been savoring vignettes of summer memories
that I've kept folded within the safe haven of my heart.
Your comforting touch, warmer than a summer breeze
was my purpose in life; contained in my every thought.
I cherished all of our twilight saunters along the beach,
and recall the tenderness of your lips with each gentle kiss.
The distance between us, you were the first to breach.
But I never expected our summer romance to end like this.
Our lust for life and each other shifted by summer's end.
We'd fallen in love, one stronger than granite, we vowed.
A small plastic ring, you placed upon my finger as a friend,
then whispered, "I love you." You said the words aloud.
Even mountains made of stone can erode and fall apart.
Time takes its toll, leaving behind brittle parts of the past.
How do I explain to the ache still inside my bruised heart
that some summer romances were never meant to last?
This eager heart remembers your kisses and softest touch.
Those mellow new dawns upon the windblown sandy beach.
That long moonlit night when I declared, "I love you so much."
And you my darling, that night swore better love to me teach!
I cherished the way you promised to give me your beautiful life.
You stood in that pale blue gown awaiting my affectionate kiss,
Swearing by every means, you would end my hurt and strife.
It is of these precious recollections that I choose to reminisce.
O' lord, every fairy princess, your beauty would've out shown.
You swore to me an oath of love as if it was your marriage vow.
I beg, tell me why you left me like a wind turned hellish blown?
Was our love making the kind that disappointed you somehow?
A promise of us eternally has now crumbled like a fallen fence
And every newborn basking dawn capsized like a sinking boat.
You, my sweetheart, were you not truly happy with this prince?
Are memories of us together just verses of poems I once wrote?
A collaboration by Robert Lindley and Lin Lane
Note. Lin, it has indeed been a true joy to compose with you again.
Your magnificent verses sing into this old poet's heart and soul.
The beauty and heart you put into those verses are truly exceptional and very evident of a master poet's hand and pen. God bless.
Solitude:
Distressful
Afflictive
Merciless
Unbearable solitude,
When you are present, Time immobile remains,
And
Each second an eternity of intolerable
Suffering becomes.
At such moments,
We implore Time to advance,
To accelerate its pace,
To hurry up
For
The next second
The next minute
The next hour
The next day to come,
So as
The pain to decrease,
Our agony to lessen,
And us to be liberated from distress,
From our affliction and from
Our ordeal
But Time – a sadist- unmoved stays,
Mocking us
And
Instead of picking up speed, it is
Dragging its leaden feet, enjoying thus itself With
Our perpetual torture,
Hence, we,
Disappointed by Time's unhurried stance,
Absorbed by its immobility,
Let ourselves sink deeper and deeper into our hopelessness,
Till we reach the deepest point of
Our being,
A place void of all thoughts,
Of absolute silence and of intense
Anguish!
At that point
We wish:
To shout
To scream
To yell
To howl
But
No voice is possible to be heard.
No one is there to listen to our call of distress.
And then
In the darkest hour of solitude,
At the culminating point of desolation,
When we thought all is lost, we realize to our surprise that
We are not alone,
WE WERE NEVER ALONE!
A tenant is there with us,
A tenant, beyond the limits of ourselves,
Of our understanding,
Of our awareness,
A tenant who looks at us with affection
With compassion and most of all
With love,
Unconditional love,
True Love,
Yes, it is HIM
The only ONE
HE who was there before us
And
Will be here into eternity
After we are gone:
GOD HIMSELF!
We look at His Holy visage, and we discern an
Apologetic expression for
Having put us through this tribulation to be able to make
HIS presence to us, is known!
He had tried before to approach us on many occasions,
During the period of our good fortune,
Of our successes and our achievements
But
We had ignored HIS calls at that time,
You see, we didn’t need any help then,
For
We thought every achievement of ours
Was our doing
We had the erroneous notion that
Everything was under our firm control
And that
We were INVINCIBLE
But
Now we know better for He has
Revealed to us the truth!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
19 January 2021
Santa’s Responsibility Rap
Loch David Crane
July 2, 2006
Santa's jolly all year long
he’s such a happy soul;
but if ya ever cross him
he’ll put you in a hole.
Santa’s very red and white
he knows who's good and bad.
His character assessment
shows us what a life you’ve had.
So obey your Mums and Daddies
and the helpful officers too
then we can jail the bad guys
and help each other through.
We write laws to protect us all,
both powerful and least;
treat others as you treat yourself,
respecting all, is best.
But if you sass your Daddy,
or the officer ignore,
expect a swat upon your rump
or SWAT outside your door.
Ol' Santa reads the crime reports
on a computer he refused
to deliver to a bad boy
whose trust had been abused.
He's read your blog on Facebook
and he knows what's in your heart:
so "you better be good for goodness’ sake"
or your gifts will all depart.
Santa doesn't like bad boys
or messes on the floor.
He doesn't have to forgive you
and he doesn't have to bring more.
For Santa reflects what you give to others
and whom you choose to be;
because only a pleasant person
gets dreams beneath his tree.
A loud, or stubborn, or spoiled child
sees an empty cactus tree;
a helpful, cheerful, giving kid
is a joy that Santa sees.
You must think as much of others
as you do just for yourself
if you want to see those goodies
coming towards you off the shelf.
'Cause Santa isn't Jesus,
that's why he keeps a list
of happy little readers
and those in whom he's disappointed.
Santa doesn't love you all
or listen when you pray--
just good behavior is the key
for toys on Xmas day.
"What's the X in Xmas?"
trembling little voices cry.
X is an unknown value
until you steal or lie.
For Santa isn't Jesus,
he's an atheist you see –
he dispenses voluntary gifts
underneath his pagan tree.
He doesn't owe you anything,
his gifts are from the heart..
He judges your behavior
and each year is a new start.
As you behave, so shall you be
rewarded by St. Nick;
but if you're bad the year before
then coal will be his trick.
What goes around comes back around
and what was old is new;
When you give respect to others
it returns increased to you.