Long Disavowed Poems
Long Disavowed Poems. Below are the most popular long Disavowed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disavowed poems by poem length and keyword.
I sat on the beach sifting time through my hands.
I felt like a slot machine whore.
The ocean was preaching her Siren’s demand
I abandon my past at the shore.
So, I shook off the sand, turned my back to the surf,
Locked up my anatomy bones, took a number two pencil,
A number nine cloud and set off for the mountains alone.
There was nothing but traffic stretched bumper to butt.
Gave a thought to a change of career.
I was stuck on I-80, my foot on the clutch,
Feeling life slip away in first gear.
Had to exit the freeway and find my way home.
Didn’t miss it, just favored the sound
Of someone I know simply saying, “Hello,
Been too long since we’ve seen you around.”
Found a town full of hipsters with hats made of whims,
And jeans that screamed, “Don’t let me down!”
Spliced the mainbrace on Bank Street and wandered about.
Crossed the bridge to the north side of town.
Grabbed my bat when I got to the ballpark.
Checked my stance when I stepped to the plate.
Eyed a runaway fastball aimed straight for my chin.
Up and in, slammed it far and away.
Felt hard in between and hard in betwixt.
Been disavowed and eighty-sixed.
There’s broke in me that can’t be fixed.
I’m bad, and I’ve never been badder,
But I wonder was it worth it,
The cost of all I had to lose to get here.
I’m a fish out of water that learned how to walk.
A fish out of water for sure.
But I’m living it up like the Duke of Burgoyne
And my Duchess is luscious and pure.
It’s been a long hard road to Easyville
Where I manage my domain on Tunnel Hill.
And I haunt the ravines between Cromby and Mingo,
My barony a triumph of the will.
Embracing the Sky
Ice crystals float in the sky mix and mingle with the luminous cloud
envelope illusions dance with enshrouded mystery glowing and proud
Celestial spheres know no limit as the gigantic prisms condense and reflect
light the seven-coloured path for human megalomania to be disavowed
There are angles and degrees heights certain times when fire-rainbows flow
just like in our lives colours enlighten perspectives from which beauty can grow
Fluffy cyruss condensation navigates with ice halos around horizontal arcs
presents us what matters to contemplate a seeming ascent on vertical plateau
The full spectrum of tinges and tones resembles the chakras’ body soul mind
our vital energy in the search for spiritual completeness the Universe has designed
From feeling grounded in red wave length to being fully connected in indigo crown
the miracle before and above us contains a simple straight message for humankind
Awareness of awesome spectacles out of reach from devious attempts of control
guides us to pause halt appraise and engage in what the planet considers our role
To cherish nature and beauty compassion spread kindness earths’ spirit and love
and to be content with ice halos and fire clouds to make peace our ultimate goal
When vultures cast sardonic smiles on his waning soul
Rehearsed their hisses for a feast of agony and epitaph
She gripped the moment and clawed her nails into his skin
Like pikes into a lover’s cross
A wake-up call struck the mind of the silent falling ghost
Whispered like a distant ceremonial angel in spiked disguise
Lit a scented candle and disavowed her festering claws
Scars turned into lightening stars
The wounds became too loose for manicured incisions
Thus he wound free from cynical talon’s lacerations
‘Keep the coffin with broken seals and rusty hinges’
Return to sender mailer demon unbeknown
26th May 2019
A Wolf Waits
Early one morning
reason escaped
And prescience went with it
unlocking the gate
Lights in the asylum
flicker and fade
The inmates grow restless
a deepening shade
Evening brought darkness
no stars in the sky
But nobody wondered
no questioning why
The moon simply vanished
a wolf waits to howl
All order disorder
—with thought disavowed
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
Spinning The Cylinder
When does intelligence
turn on its host
Killing the patron
leaving a ghost
Russian roulette
in a game zero sum
Perception reloading
—acuity’s gun
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
Quantum Leap
Life beyond numbers
images reign
Killing all reference
lost in refrain
Gaming the theory
zeroing out
Counting symphonic
—Angels about
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
oh my Good Lord for Christ’s sake who have you become
a well-known carpenter who suffered on his own cross
put nails in his own coffin a shepherd who lost to his flock
beggar man in rags once caring and sharing kindness and love
so the story goes but you caved in to prolonged abuse
misrepresented disavowed on the altar of religious deceit
you presided over wars subjugation poverty and holocaust
must have cried thousands of tears in horrible agony
dying all over the planet again once more and forever
they made you a star a celebrity icon poster boy idol
forgot in the process that actions shout louder than words
attached hypocrisy bigotry philistine culture to your name
now you dwell unrecognisably in bourgeoise falsification
in a shallow grave of history that spits on your genius
you were once so great had such wonderful ambition
so much so that if you had not existed we’d have created
a human being with such vision to ease self-imposed pain
your thorny crown has wilted on the spread sheet of time
a relic and artifact an illustration of vast compassion
we lost you in the fields of Flanders on our crusades
in the chambers of Auschwitz when we showed truths
about humankind and the punitive evil of our souls
yet a statue of the Madonna rests next to a lean Buddha
on the fireplace surround in my heart and the hearth
hellfire maybe but I have not forgotten your meaning
04th Amy 2021
Tell Me, Who Do You Say That I Am Poetry Contest
Sponsor Mystic Rose Rose
You wrote the song that enchanted lyrics
Composing avid tone to melody of music
Attuning cleverly to tenor of fantasies
Sending sensual hints to passionate wishes,
As vibrant stars ceded to darker motifs.
Infantile was my dream in night's reverie
Cuddling arms of love, hugging intently
Delighting in whispers of zealous winds
Wooed by romance of affectionate feelings,
Just before the misty sky began drizzling.
It was really you, who trampled my sleep
Just when I approached beholding your kiss.
Dismantling motives of amorous destiny
You disavowed with vigor allures of affinity,
Flashing a warning, a storm was brewing.
Rejecting my overture, you left the scene.
Your seduction was real, so was your love--
Indelible prologue to tomorrow's memory,
Yet truly ephemeral, as dreams tend to be.
The dream I dreamed never belonged to me.
February 17, 2019
Placed first:I dreamed a dream contest by Silent One
Placed first: Ultimate February 2019 contest by Brian Strand
I enjoy when people quote the Word,
And find it disagrees with what they’ve heard.
Often wrong with what they’re claiming.
Their knowledge of Scripture is often betraying.
In Isaiah, you will often hear,
The lamb and the lion will lay near.
And while most people know this Isaiah quote,
It’s not what it says but it does promote,
The true sentiment it does connote.
It’s not a lion that Isaiah wrote.
It’s actually a wolf not biting the lamb’s throat.
When people think about Noah and his ark,
In their minds they see crowds with snark.
But no word in Scripture about any crowd.
Another example often disavowed.
Sometimes, quite out loud.
Common beliefs like these are not just religious.
Some in areas somewhat prodigious.
The Mandala effect is its name,
And has received a lot of fame,
Due to making a false claim,
And giving this term its new aclaim.
Now we come to my favorite of all.
Adam and Eve and their famous fall.
They were evicted for their sin as you’ve so often heard.
But that is not what it says in The Word.
The tree of life, God now forbade.
‘They cannot become immortal like us’,
Is what He said.
So He threw them out,
To maintain His clout.
Believers don’t always know what is truly said,
And may have some falsehoods stuck in their head.
So when looking at the sacred Scripture,
Please make sure you see the real picture.
Read Your Bible!
Alan Shepard, astronaut, took golf balls to the moon
He whacked them only when he knew that he’d be leaving soon
‘One flew two hundred yards,’ he said, ‘and as I recollect
one came down in a crater, although I never checked.’
In seventy-one that bit of fun by NASA was allowed
Such jollity in twenty-one would now be disavowed
Like all the stuff they’ve left behind those golf balls lay there stranded
At least they do if it is true that both those golf balls landed
And then it all got boring with rockets on the wain
Those Saturn V Apollos superseded by a plane
Referred to as the shuttle like a boat, a bus or train
I doubt that space flights ever will excite me once again
Be careful what you wish for: is that not what they say
Something mad is happening, in outer space today
It should be so exciting as beyond the Milky Way
A hurtling flying saucer makes our population pray
It’s passing stars and galaxies at speeds beyond compare
We know it’s heading here because it didn’t stop off there
And now the bloggers tell us what the BBC refutes
It doesn’t come in peace because it’s loaded up with nukes
And finally it slowed down as upon our moon it came
And then it simply hovered there like it was taking aim
Then each TV and radio and stuff with speakers in
Crackled into life with a God almighty din
You humans shall obey these words and leave to us your earth
Or you shall be destroyed because you are of little worth
And then that space-ship blew apart as something smashed its shields
In orbit its astounding how much power a golf ball wields
***
[Postscript: in 1971, Alan Shepard took two golfballs and a modified club to the moon. Apparently, aware that any ‘whoops’ moments might be blamed on ‘larking about’, this was sanctioned on the proviso that all scheduled tasks had already been completed: thus Shepard teed off shortly before leaving the moon. To this day, Shepard retains the record for the longest golf shot on the moon... Duh!]
***
Nobody loved like they did
those nights splayed
like open books,
soggy foils at humid peace,
at least until the next
morning riot.
***
I ran to the coffee shop
last street down,
shouting your name
to a third person,
wearing your face
under the lamplight,
flickering over like a newsreel
from the next day, with
a breaking story.
***
It cracks like a stiff spine
making it difficult
to turn the page, like us
ing in the morning
roar of crow song threshing
in the birches;
then running buckets under
the ceiling spigots at night
all reason disavowed.
***
All reason is tuned
to divining rods
searching for water
searching for the cardinal
heart beneath the ribs
flipping its bird truth
at the bathroom mirror,
in that quick space between
sticking it out, or cutting bait.
***
Our cracked spines are chapped
palms, pocked open hymnals
bleating profanely
the dissonance
that is in our key,
the twelve-tone psalm
they hallow, as they learn the
liturgy of its respiration:
its own dodecaphonic Ode to Joy.
***
Two fated deer, supping
out tonight amongst
the thorny thorns
stretch their necks brink-over
a steep cove’s edge,
and a brittle rocky drop,
stretching out for the sweetest
berries only; come the long
rut way through the woody woods
only to stare at themselves
square-wise, astonished survivors,
wild eye to wild eye wise.
So much of what is frothy babble
is laid before us as a truth when in truth
it is but frothy babble.
Each shiny coin newly mined and minted
with a fragrance green as the grasses
passes for a personage we would gather.
Coins as friends,
Ends justifying means,
The aftermath of fruitful beans.
Upon a curved light borne
he hones his friendships
as slivers of glass.
Reflections all so tall
and all so disavowed;
nor allowed the looser noose
of the absolute.
What is that fragrance passing
for a freedom.
What is that passing need
as the world turns,
as the days of our lives burn,
as we move as one multitude
beneath a blanket of toes
with our noses wrapped.
Worrying, scurrying for
the last scrap of paper
on which is printed not
a single famous image
but is destined
to carry our waste.