Long Discard Poems
Long Discard Poems. Below are the most popular long Discard by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Discard poems by poem length and keyword.
It was just this morning. That it was.
At the table there sat only three.
There was Tux, the foam Linux penguin.
The others were my oatmeal and me.
I never do tire of oatmeal.
But the penguin was growing old.
I stared at its unmoving face
As my oatmeal began to get cold.
The face on this penguin companion,
Which ten years on my table had been,
Speaks with remarkable eloquence
Despite its immovable grin.
I found my thoughts drifting to boyhood
To my grandmother’s green backyard
Where I gathered and ate fallen walnuts,
Eating insides, the shells to discard.
From that walnut tree, a rope swing hung
That could lift you to clouds in the sky.
From the world below, it made you free.
Like an eagle, it helped you to fly.
To sky I’d climb from wine grapes below.
The magic swing would descend and rise.
To its rocking reeling rhythm and rhyme,
Plans and dreams would emerge and arise.
As that swing left the orbit of earth
Making people the size of small fleas,
So, too, I would leave for strange lands afar
And sail away across distant seas.
One day, I would be a brave hero -
And defeat villains, nefarious,
And with help from my trusty sword, I’d be
Extricated from jams, precarious.
When I could, I’d refrain from violence,
And peacefully take Billy the Kid.
Then, I’d be off to the world’s other side
To the Taj Mahal and the Great Pyramid.
I’d go to London and Paris
And see artworks of beauty and grace
And resplendent castles of kings and queens
And one day marry a princess named Grace.
“Wait a second”, interrupted the penguin.
“You never did that or any such thing,
Before or after that conference
From whence me to this table you’d bring”.
This penguin had the nerve to tell me,
“It’s junk heap time for you and your sword”.
So, I tossed him in the recycling bin
Along with my flattened cardboard.
They sit at the red Formica table, quietly buttering their morning toast,
while watching her through the window glass. It is as much a daily
routine, as brushing their teeth. How disappointed they would be, if she
did not arrive on time. They could even set their clocks by her comings and going
each day, quietly observing her through the kitchen window, as she
comes out from behind the tool shed. She will stop, look around, then carefully
lumber along beneath the hedge row. Her fine snout aimed in one direction,
her eyes squinted down against the rude, gray light, while her body seems
to announce...."possum, possum",....as she rocks across the backyard,
then slowly meandering over to the northwest corner of the fence, to
disappear again, into the weeds of the vacant lot, that lies on the other side.
Sipping their coffee, they have remained quietly pensive for a few
moments, then once again they will remind each other that they must take
care not to mend the gap in the old cedar-wood fence.
Hands reaching for the morning news
find once again, a world at war,
that's mingled in the kitchen air
with bacon grease, and coffee steam.
They fold the paper with a sigh.
Eyes wander to the morning sky,
where geese are seen in narrow streams,
and daylight fills their heads with dreams
A flash of grey upon the lawn.
And through the fence, across the yard,
their visitor, without excuse,
comes in view, and cheers the mood.
The window frames the early sun.
Morning coffee pours again.
They take a sip, ignore the news,
discard the worry, eat the food,
and find a smile, as well they should
___________________________________________________________
11/29/15 For Haibun-Free Style Contest sponsored by scott thirty-seven
Mother’s Day-Three Years Later
I may speak to you
as a still portrait on the wall
no wailing
ghosts don’t present
only those of memories
especially
clasping the cross
between my fingers
as it was buried
on your chest
no tears
I only whisper
“Mom…”
are you stirred?
I reach out
truly
lean in
indubitably
to the Lord
who
with no doubt
hears
my heart cry
I don’t use
many words
on
the smile of your shadow
but lean
into
the sure everlasting arms
of Jesus
it’s almost time to honor you
are you still my mother
or merely my sister
in Christ?
do we retain the same relationship
or
is it like husbands & wives?
the bible says
we are like the angels
in heaven
no longer
given
to marriage
so I wonder…
I wondered
at the beginning
of your death -
do I still
have a mother
or
am I motherless?
I tuck
the Mother’s Day card
away
my husband thought
I’d want to put
it into her arms
next to her large portrait
next to her purple urn
on that first motherless occasion
I can’t even look at it
I can’t conceive it
the scent of funereal flowers
fills my living space
and the altar of grief notes
is growing
I throw them down
like a house of cards
likewise discard the flowers
leaving dried petals of sunshine
in a broom closet box
it’s three years later
the dust settles
the drum beats
always reminding me
we must rehearse
every day
not pick up the phone
not regress
be addressed
only by our own
my children can still reach me
if they choose…I’ll hear
I pack the backpack
then empty it
count again what I need,
discard the unlikely,
the unnecessary accessory.
I pack the backpack
shoulder it,
adjust the straps
remember to add a useful thing,
unpack and repack,
try to balance the weight,
smooth the angular,
tighten the loose.
Once again
add another small but
just maybe item
to the survival kit in the backpack
which I have just repacked.
I open the backpack
unpack just enough
to add to the survival kit.
I forgot to pack rope,
It’s a must have necessity.
I pack the rope.
This is a metaphor poem,
possibly a cautionary tale,
or an instruction manual.
I remember just in time
that I have left the instruction manuals
for the battery operated can opener,
the outdoor fire lighter,
the camping stove,
and a sharpening tool,
they are all on a small folding chair.
I gather the manuals up,
pack them,
try to pack the small folding chair,
decide I will have to carry it separately.
The backpack is back over my shoulder,
above that a rolled up pup tent.
The camping chair is in my left hand,
in my right hand a sturdy hiking stick.
Climbing boots and cleats affixed.
I go to the door to leave.
I can’t open the door
too much gear to go through
I may have to squeeze out sideways,
But now I can’t turn the door handle or lock,
too much in my hands.
I will have to unpack.
Metaphors are a heavy lift.
Why don't you get down from your high horse?
It may bring you down to Earth,
Because you are sitting up so high
It doesn't show your worth,
You may have a different view
Sitting high up there
But there are others beneath you
Who needs some love and care?
If you are sitting up so high,
It's easy to lose sight.
Out of sight of mind
Oblivious of the plight,
Of others and their kin
You discard them,
As quickly as throwing rubbish into a bin.
Every dog has its day,
That's how the saying goes.
Get down from that high horse,
And feel the Earth between your toes
Plant your feet firmly on the ground
It gives you a sense of balance
And help justice to abound.
If you want to rise even higher
You will always need a taller horse.
You will become a high flyer
And disappear off course.
Misery’s company comes and goes and what about you?
Don’t go telling me about your woes without a single clue
Tell me your precious vitality’s optimistic joy once more
Sell me your vivacious, perfect ability to soar that I adore
I believe in happier days than these
I believe we can kiss goodbye the harsh negativity
I believe in cheerful sways of the breeze
I believe we can hug hello to the happiness of glee
Defeated by the sorrow in my bottomless heart
Regrets are like oceanic abysses from the start
I wake up to your voice...
My head starts to rejoice
Defeated by joy now
I take a bow somehow
I wipe my sweat from my weary brow
Defeated by you now
Defeated by the sorrow in my bottomless heart
Regrets are like oceanic abysses from the start
Feeling as low as low can be and what about you? You think I’m really crazy?
I know you’ve been through so much like me too...will you and I ever be free?
Tell me something that is extremely uplifting please...will you leave me be?
Spell out the words of love and don’t be a tease...well, do you promise me?
I believe in happier days than these
I believe we can kiss goodbye the harsh negativity
I believe in cheerful sways of the breeze
I believe we can hug hello to the happiness of glee
Defeated by the sorrow in my bottomless heart
Regrets are like oceanic abysses from the start
I wake up to your voice...
My head starts to rejoice
Defeated by joy now
I take a bow somehow
I wipe my sweat from my weary brow
Defeated by you now
Defeated by the sorrow in my bottomless heart
Regrets are like oceanic abysses from the start
Ripped apart by torment on a daily basis
Broken down by the feelings of hopelessness
Discard me not and understand where I stand
Many things have been truly going out of hand
Darling of mine, do you care that I’m extremely lost?
You’re like a sugar wine so fine, but at what cost?
Defeated by the sorrow in my bottomless heart
Regrets are like oceanic abysses that tear us apart
Misery’s company comes and goes
And what about you, my friends and foes?
Who knows where the wind blows
Who knows where the light glows
Defeated...
Neglected...
Oh so needed...
Rejected...then accepted by - well - you
Done with the emotions of dark crimson rue
So this, my cat, my confidante, my friend
His bed, empty now, I cannot discard
A photograph now on the mantel’s end
Beside his toy and a sympathy card
How long the wait, in this vast empty space
Till small sounds spare me the notion he’s back
Yet still shall I ready this special place
For friend and casket and polished brass plaque
You say he’s only a cat and he's dead
Still I make space midst old friends on this shelf
What notions strange and cold dwell in your head
When you have no love but that for yourself
Make light of my grieving if that you must
My cat I loved: As for you… not too fussed!
we live in
a modest apartment
within a condo building
there’s a special corner
where people discard
furniture and extras
sometimes brand new
be it wrong shape
size or colour
sometimes the finds
take my breath away
it feels like christmas
when i discover
something i can use
or think of someone
who could benefit
from my find
in either case
i’d compare it to
winning a lottery
i so appreciate
the generosity and
i feel like painting
a huge giant sign
with the words
a big thank you
from the heart
you are angels
back home at times
i love to take stock
a moment to look
around my home
and appreciate
the treasures
i have received
from various precious
anonymous angels
these gifts are nothing like
what i could find in stores
they have a special glow
of kindness and generosity
that i love to soak up
savor and admire
so I may bask in gratitude
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Slide, barrel, firing
My life expiring
Carve peace into a bullet so its the last thing on my mind
'Cause what remains in the sky is our stars misaligned
The shrapnel from the meplat dissects my insides
My emotional integrity, treat like it was Alcides
I submit to you my mag of hatred
You load your gun and leave me berated
The echoes of metallic disparage on the concrete
Discard the magazine, rest it on my grave and replete
Disengage the safety, make your grip pirouette
In my mind you're already dead, your ballade des
Your body slumps, no longer recepts, self-sabotaged
The thoughts of us never escaped your mind, constantly collaged
Never argue with a narcissist. You will never win.
You are better off playing chess with a filthy pigeon.
Never argue with a narcissist, even when you are in the right.
They will twist your words around and try to start a fight.
Never argue with a narcissist, it isn't worth the stress.
They will turn around and blame you when they are the ones
who made the mess.
When they know you see through them, they will fear exposure.
That is when they dump you, don't try to seek closure.
Never underestimate what goes on in their sick twisted brain.
They will lie and gaslight you and make you think you are insane.
Don't confront their bad behavior, I know this may seem hard.
Don't show the hurt and anger you feel about their discard.
Never give your narcissist, your precious time of day.
The only way you will win with them is to just not play.
They will never take accountability, so please take my advice.
If you play stupid games with a narcissist, you win a stupid prize.