Long Discarded Poems
Long Discarded Poems. Below are the most popular long Discarded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Discarded poems by poem length and keyword.
Gregory
You made yesterdays news, invoking fears
You were found on the streets
Discarded and left to die alone
Thrown away like a piece of garbage with little thought
An inconvenience, as you struggled for your life
So many questions and no answers….
Your thoughts were dark and twisted and not appropriate
You did not fit the mould
Opportunities wasted as you oared against the current
The river washed you out and you choked to breathe
Your thoughts were numbed by substances
Chemicals that took away your sanity
Robbed you of your family and your home
Left your mother with a broken heart and tortured soul, struggling with forgiveness
Your father fought his own demons just long enough to remember your life
And then fall back into the abyss and darkness and forgottenness
Your friends cried as they thought of you.
Their scarred faces and souls with their big crosses around their necks
Their tattooed and tattered young zombie bodies
With their vacant eyes that bore too much pain to contain
Thin and remorseful souls
with the tears that fell down their cheeks like rain
They loved you, you were a good friend!
It was said you would give the shirt off your back for a friend
Your first love wondered how she could have helped?
Your grandfather has lived too long to see this day
One more funeral in his 88 years
A reminder of his son of 17 that was also discarded.
Your brother tried to honour and play his guitar that you gave him
Tears were shed
Beautiful memories shared and kind words spoken
A life too young
Fell beneath the caverns of a broken world
Aunts write poetry to make sense of it all, desperately writing to keep your memory alive
Unspoken grief all around with nowhere to go
One more forgotten victim of an epidemic
Bi-polar they said
Addicted they said
As they sat in their offices high above the streets away from it all
Making policies to keep you safe.
Safe injection sights to shoot poison to your veins
And kitchens with large pots of soup to sustain you until your imminent death
The great unravelling of a generation
You were loved by many
You were a beautiful soul, a good friend, son, brother, cousin
A beautiful child with big brown eyes and so much promise
Gregory always remembered
Rest peacefully sweet soul…
Grace Daub August 25, 2021 written after my nephew’s untimely death- homeless and on the streets
"melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams " (by poet)
a gift from my father - on the first day of college,
"Golden Treasury"...A book of poetry...
the first poem I read... "She Walks In Beauty".
I carried that book throughout my life, even when I stopped reading poems...
even when poetry wasn't the priority any more,
Instead I looked at recipe-books - how to improve my culinary skills,
and became almost a champion chef in a few months.
Wordsworth and Browning were far away from my thoughts,
Coleridge? Oh No! Porphyria's Lover, and Ancient Mariner...
did not exist in my world of reality!
how many glorious summers went by ~ how many frosty winters ~
Delicious food, excellent company,
chasing after active children, stressing about job-opportunities,
exotic travels, grandiose entertainment ...
had time for every little trivial thing in the world...but no time for
the book my father imagined his daughter would embrace the most!
then one miraculous day...when even my father gradually forgot
the girl who used to blossom in the world of words, and poetry....
I found my precious friend collecting dust,
neglected, discarded, in the corner of a shelf.. couldn't believe it was waiting for me with a beating heart ~
each and every page came alive with a magical touch ~
still my name clearly visible, handwritten with my father's calligraphic dexterity !
almost shaking to spot my long-lost treasure, I cried!
overwhelmed with emotions, tears fell!
as if a candle burnt and melted.
every drop of tears brought back the lavender memories ~
of an exhilarating past... my passions, my yearnings,
tender dreams of lilac hues never attained, the abandoned path I was supposed to tread ...
a path strewn with lyrics and verses, ballads and
sonnets like blazing auburn leaves of autumn ~
now shockingly empty and despairingly barren.
the forgotten aspirations and never-met goals...the tremendous sense of loss,
of crushing heart-break, of torturous frustration,
all flooded in!
many lonely years have gone by!
melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams
ultimately my first love has returned !
First Place
May 15, 2021
Inspired by “ He gave her a book” contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
I awake with the sweat of a distant dream....
Thinking of what I'd seen
Remembering what was in my mind's eye
Such sad, sad thoughts of a time gone by
I remember the heat of the desert and the dangers of camouflage men
of small remote villages.......and the people within
I recall a child.......I can still see her smile
Black was her hair, her hands they were oh so small
I can still see her face.........I remember it all
Erelah, yes that was her name
and ever since I met her my life's not been the same
She'd come to our station almost everyday
coming for her hunger, always to play
running round and round, hiding from us all
I still can hear her laughter........ I remember it all
Such a small girl, born into a ruthless world
A world where men prey upon men, and life is simply discarded like sand to the wind
Sunlight and shadows
One illuminates while the other falls
As days become weeks, distant voices call............
Messages of distress come over the wire
speaking of death, fire
of a small village, of evil men who rape, murder, and pillage
Cloaked with the tools of Azreal, the tarmac erupts
Awash in wind and sand, we're elevated into the air
Nap-of-the-earth quickly, mountains, valleys pass by fast
Distant souls burning, we ascend upon the village at last
Pyre smoke engulfs the senses, as it swirls around and around
Hovering high above, we descend swiftly to the chard ground
Toils of men are revealed in the dawn's light
The departed are scattered about as we scour for signs of life
From one burnt structure to another
We find nothing but hopelessness and despair
Only the dead and the dying, Iblis has been here
A familiar door, one I passed through many times before
Reluctantly I peer in, and to my great sadness I'd see
Little Erelah laying by her mother, still deep within a "dream"
But from this "dream" she'll not awake, nor shall she ever play
Both her innocence and life were taken
Never to learn to read, never to learn to write
Never to run and sing again, due to man's mindless strife
I promised to protect the children ever since that day
And always defend them against man's evil ways
And never ever forget her
That angel from above, or her simple message
LOVE.........
To me she was a moment of Spring, in a lifetime of endless Winter
She is but a dream..........
I am a monster
A tormented work of God’s hand
I will roll over you
Like a storm
Because that I am
My energy will attract you like a swarm of bees in spring
Into your lover’s bed
Where I will remove tranquility
From you mind
Before you reject me
I am a Tesla
Coiled
My fingers set to spark
They will suck the life out of your longing
You will desire to burn again in my hell
But you will remove me
And keep me at bay
For I am too strong in field
To leave close to your heart
Yet I will possess you
Not because I own you
Only will I own your desire
To wrap around my tongue again
And from inside your womb
You will grow a hand longing to pull me into your core
Yet I will unwillingly shake your bed
While you try to sleep
Because I cannot stop
Even when I rest
A storm I am
Cursed am I
With a double vortex of pain
That rips at my muscles
And makes them twitch
When I want them to relax
There is lightening inside of me
That longs to be kissed into a deeper slumber
Just once, so that I can rest in bliss at your side
Will you do that for me, just once?
Or throw me away before the first dawn, as is my fate
My tormented soul
Wants the electrocutioner’s pulse
To leave me alone
And let my limbs recline
For just one night
But instead I must sleep awake
So I do not unleash
Another crushing wave
Against your brain
As my twitching arms attack you despite my love
For while a storm may intrigue you to watch
You will not ride long in the funnel of this tornado
I will become your toy
And discarded after a few shocks of my constant sparking
Have burned your precious fingertips into charcoal
My place will become as your sworn servant
When you require another grinding
And remember the reason your millstones have worn thin
Desiring another load
To render into stardust
And while I just wish to rest my weary head
Upon your swollen breasts of honey
While you sleep against me in pleasure’s afterglow
The storm that never sleeps will jar you awake
And your pointed finger will show me out the dog’s door
Creep that I am
Requires his mask to be kissed away, but it will not yield
No one can endure
A lasting embrace
Because I will bump your arms away in the night
You should be warned
As upon notice be you now informed
My tic ticking heart
Will demand its daily toll
Sending me to sleep alone
I WAS ROME - MING THROUGH TIME.
WHEN I PASSED THROUGH A DOOR.
I WAS PART OF THE CLOUD ,
OBSERVING A WAR.
FREEDOM RIGHTS AND PRIVACY
WERE HANGING BY A THREAD.
LEGAL PROPAGANDA
BEING DRILLED INTO FOLKS HEADS.
PRIVACY IS A FRAGILE WORD.
ESPECIALLY WHEN I KNOW ,
EVERYTHING YOU EVER SAID ,
THOUGHT , HEARD OR TOLD.
GOTTA LOVE WHEN PEOPLE SAY,
THERE IS NOTHING I NEED TO HIDE.
THAT'S UNTILL I EXPOSE THE TRUTH
YOU SIMPLY CAN NOT DENY.
INVASION OF YOUR PRIVACY,
GOES BEYOND THE SCOPE.
MANIPULATION OF YOUR THOUGHTS
HAS THE SAME EFFECT AS DOPE.
IF YOUR SUGGESTION CREATES IDEALS
THAT BENEFIT THE CORPORATION,
YOUR SURELY GOING TO GO ALONG
WITH NO NEED FOR EXPLANATION.
INVASION OF YOUR PRIVACY,
INCLUDES THE FOODS YOU EAT.
IF BIG AGRA SAYS IT'S GOOD FOR YOU
TO JUSTIFY , YOU REPEAT.
OWNING WHAT YOU NEED TO GROW.
CORPORATIONS PATENT , AND SELL TO YOU.
GOVERNMENT , BLINDLY , GOES ALONG
AND THE POPULOUS , HAS NO CLUE.
KNOWING THINGS THAT FRIGHTEN YOU
LIKE HATRED , WARS AND CRIMES.
GOVERNMENT HAS TO PLAY ALONG
IN THE FORNICATION GAME OF MINDS.
INVASION OF YOUR PRIVACY
INCLUDES SETTING PEOPLE UP.
IF ORGANIZED CRISIS ARE EXPOSED
THE COMPROMISED COVERUP.
ANOTHER WAY OF INVADING PRIVACY
IS STEALING PEOPLE'S TIME.
THE COMPLICIT AND COMPROMISED
CREATE CHAOS OF YOUR MIND.
MEANING THIS AND SAYING THAT
CLAIMING WRONG IS RIGHT.
WHEN CONSTANTLY BOMBARDED
DEPLETES YOUR TIME TO FIGHT.
WHEN WEAK. , TIRED AND GIVING IN.
METAPHORICALLY , THE SHIP IS SINKING.
YOU WILL RELINQUISH "ALL" PRIVACY
DRINK WHAT THE REST ARE DRINKING
ONCE DEPENDANT ON CORPORATION
THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN HIDE.
CORPORATIONS NO LONGER NEED YOU,
YOU BECOME RAWHIDE.
IT STARTS OUT WITH YOUR PRIVACY
WITHOUT NOTICE , YOU LOSE YOUR RIGHTS
THAT'LL BE THE END , OF SOVEREIGNTY
AS HUMANITY, GIVES UP ON THE FIGHT.
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE IMPLANTS
FOR SURE , THERE'S NO WAY OUT.
DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU SAY
THEY'LL OWN YOU , WITHOUT A DOUBT.
YOU'RE PRESENTLY IN A LIFETIME ,
GUIDED BY SOCIOPATHS.
IF YOU DARE , DISAGREE WITH THEM
YOUR DISCARDED JUST LIKE TRASH.
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE , DELETES
AND SENSORS , VITAL INFORMATION.
IN OTHER WORDS , THE PSYCHOPATHS
CONTROL YOUR DESTINATION.
Michael E. Harris
01192023
I struggle to recall at a ragged bus stop
Writing memories down on a brown paper bag.
The discarded pen I picked off of the weed grass serves
As a key to my past, the paper bag the door.
My memories gush from the back of my mind,
Long lost in the torrents of tears
And the literal shattering of my heart
Between my breasts.
This was not planned,
This living on my own means,
Struggling to make ends begin.
I’ll worry about them meeting
When the time comes.
The memories I loot
From the locked treasure chest
At the bottom of the barren sea
Of my mind
Seem irregular and appear to belong
Elsewhere, to someone of fiction.
Emerging from somewhere,
I sense a longing.
For what, I wouldn’t say.
Saying what I could say would slow me down.
I’ve struggled to progress past the memories
And until now, the longing has been stifled.
But my memories have broken
Through the dam I built
And they charge like an army of Trojans,
Fighting to the surface of my mind.
It appears I’ll have to drown them...
Again.
It is said that after the first time of anything
That thing discussed becomes easier to do
Without fail.
Well, it’s not.
I examine the brown paper bag and the words
Scribbled on it, much like the rants of rudimentary children.
I take the pen and wind my hair around it,
Pinning it on top of my head, since all my hair bands
Were left behind, like my memories, my spirit,
My smile.
It’ll have to do for now.
I see two yellow eyes in the distance,
Eyes from another world,
That glow with radioactive promise;
It’s one of those grand busses of leisure
Where anyone could have a seizure
in peace,
Coming to me, to take me away.
"Come to me, metal extraterrestrial,
Take me to your leader.
Whisk me off to your world,
To your life, your memories.
Everything is better than this."
It slows to a stop in front of me,
And opens wide, it’s abnormal vertical teeth
Directly in front of me.
A familiar sound emotes from within:
“You coming or not?”
The brown paper bag slips from my hand
And falls to the dying grass.
It stays to pass with the grass,
Or to be found by the Nameless
Of my past.
I once carried my life in my arms,
But I’ve abandoned it
On the side of the black tar road.
“Well?”
It’s that sound again.
Well, here’s to my future.
Take me away, Mr. Alien;
New troubles await.
Pre-chorus #2: You turned out to be so mean…you were so heartless… (you
make me feel like nothin’…make me feel like someone…somethin’ – your words
pierced me like a pin on the floor)
I’m not haunted by your callous night…don’t pick a fight (with me…we were
innocent like a newborn infant)
Our friendship oath is pure and full of reverence –
Then, all of the sudden, you make my heart thump with bewilderment
Our love was genuine before you discarded it with revilement…we need to seek
repentance
You owe me – pay off your debts now…how I loathe your resentment!
Chorus: Ahhhh….Stop being a tease…
Ahhhh….Being a tease…(my heart broke into two)
Ahhhh….Here’s a wound to mend
Ahhhh….Please, put my mind at ease
Ahhhh….You don’t see me, nearing my end…
Ahhhh….Nearing my end…(you’re left without a clue)
Pre-chorus: I thought your grass was green…I’m hopeless… (Oh funny, I
thought you were a good person…I was there for you through thick and thin –
you do not love me anymore)
I’m through with you...you…tonight…I long for God’s light (to shed on me…we
were in content & we were pleasant)
You turned out to be so mean…you were so heartless… (you make me feel like
nothin’…make me feel like someone…somethin’ – your words pierced me like a
pin on the floor)
I’m not haunted by your callous night…don’t pick a fight (with me…we were
innocent like a newborn infant)
Chorus: Ahhhh….Stop being a tease…
Ahhhh….Being a tease…(my heart broke into two)
Ahhhh….Here’s a wound to mend
Ahhhh….Please, put my mind at ease
Ahhhh….You don’t see me, nearing my end…
Ahhhh….Nearing my end…(you’re left without a clue)
Give me an excuse or a reason
To overcome these waves of emotions
Friends come and go like season to season
Dealing with vile clashing commotions
We landed on a dead end –
falling victim to regret!
I don’t mean to offend…
Bu we must pay up emotional debt
Our friendship oath is pure and full of reverence…we must accept that we all
need help, going through this circumstance – (we met in a odd place out of the
blue)
Then, all of the sudden, you make my heart thump with bewilderment
Our love was genuine before you casted it away with cold-blooded malice and
discontent…we need to seek repentance (I got to really talk some sense into
you)
You owe me – pay off your debts now…how I loathe your resentment!
It has been drawn into attention that you constantly mention my faults. Point one at me and three you'll see point back at the enemy. You're no longer a friend to me; woman! My mind is like an anus. I'm in need of an enema; flushed from your hatred and cleared from your betrayals. I need a clean slate to scratch new records to turn tables. My head is stuck into a kink; of sorts. To name a few things, my shoulders have shrugged often; leaving my neck at your mercy; woman! Torture is my eternal chamber when I'm in your grasp. A bubble from my nostril; water fills my lungs. A hand pressed firmly atop of my face as the hot and cold water runs.
An illusion of the mind... Good one; woman! A falsehood created by manipulation of my own being. A battle with one’s own self righteousness as another holds the strings; the puppeteer is almighty; believes only in herself. She will cut your neck and wrap the strings around your throat. Left for brain dead and mentally broken; but I… (Yes! Me) I still want to help you. I care about you…; woman! For some unknown force compels me so. I can't place the blame because the blame hasn't a place; you know. It leads back to me. You control me because I let you; woman! You lie to me because I let you convince me; woman! You control me…; woman! But I (yes me!); I love you; woman! I love everything about you, even though you make me feel like **** and only care about yourself. You're an infectious disease which effects mental health. I love you more than I love myself. Woman…; lying, cheating, manipulating…; woman! But wait; just you wait a minute… man! (Minute man) I've heard that not all women are like you. I know its true (yes! Me) I really, really do! I met a few. They care about people and don't feel entitled to things that they haven't personally earned. (And-Even) Offer respect and help when a man does his part. Work is an obligation to provide. Which should be rewarded; not discarded as a lack of parenting that cannot be replaced with any amount of money; but give me a break; woman! We all must survive. I love those kids and want to have them in my life and I want to be part of the decision making…; woman! I hear there are many, many women would respect this. You are who you are; women! Please let me be who I am... There's a rumor floating around that not all women are like you… WOMAN!
2014
We'd made a dawn start that day, following in his footsteps, as
apparently Jesus used to get up early.
Our group had gathered for a reading, and to pray, along with
fruit and cereals our first staples of the day.
The good Lord had gifted us a painted morning of Coeruleum blue,
and a warm spiced breeze flossed my smile.
I turned and watched the city for a while.
Amidst the pink and beige jigsaw of the old city, the Dome of the rock
had caught the morning rays and was now bragging about it,
shamelessly blinging,
competing with the shouts of Minarets
and Church bells ringing.
Few things can compete with an Israel morning, but you did.
Perched like an Owl on a low wall, cross-legged, your head moved
from side to side, scanning the mount, sharing our glass,
drinking the moment.
You wore white cotton, an arm hung with beads, an evil eye bracelet
and what looked like a Kara, glistening.
Styled by the Gods, with three quarters of a straw hat
wedged in the bricks.
And then I found myself before you,
Lord knows how, and I was trying to remember how my mouth worked.
Your head cocked to one side you watched me for a while
then nodded me a soft hello, and finished with a smile.
Ice broken, we gathered intelligence- you, a 'gap year Guerilla'
on a global reconnaissance , armed with just a shoulder bag and a credit card.
Me, a lapsed Catholic with an empty soul, seeking a childhood faith long discarded.
A shout from the tour guide burst our intimate bubble and I retreated,
backwards, gesturing, as if in the presence of a Shah.
She waved back, almost lost her balance, and a gust of wind would
have placed her gently among the sleeping of the Kidron
if she hadn't grabbed her hat.
And that was that.
I went back to the wall that evening, and the following morning,
I don't know why- she'd be bathed in the rose of Petra by then.
For a short time I was bereft, and stood, fittingly, before the
Basilica of the Agony, and then sat on our wall,
to watch the chosen wake up.
I think my soul woke a little, just then.
For God had left me with a little bit of love.
Unrequited, but worth hanging on to ,
worth building on.
It's been thirty five years, and in those occasional quiet places
I still think of you
For contest 'Love in a far off place', sponsored by Frank Herrera
22nd July 2015
"Going All Bruce Lee"
It’s like holding water
in your hands.
they say, be like water
as if on the drop,
the turn of H20 on tap,
one can go all Bruce Lee.
he was rather gung-ho;
but the subliminal message
he projected, without malice
in his lithe fluidity
brought on dreamy visions
of going all soft
and compliant.
one might say
malleable,
with the flow.
water has its hard moments
like when it turns to ice.
frozen in cold
abrupt moments.
I read a poet, tonight,
she says,
“consciousness swims slick
outside my fingers,
trembling perceptions
pure and round.
Infinitely slow
I close my grip,
entrapping and watch
them drown”.
I felt that.
I felt that.
Memories of what was
solid once, drift down
with the heaviness of time,
weight sinking through the
lightness of water.
Sun shines
through water.
it touches
the top to mid-section
doesn't mean it rhymes
in time with
what is beautiful
and poetic. Sometimes
the beauty lies, ugly,
at the bottom,
covered in silt.
drowned.
you know what I mean.
I know you know
what I mean.
Sunshine never
touches that place.
but treasure and
objects of beauty
lie there, waiting to be found.
the silt residing
with sunken treasure,
that which also lies
with car wrecks, sifting
rotting useless tenure,
carries residual essence.
there is found forgotten
moments of beauty and
pleasure in the discarded
flotsam and jetsam
washed up on a shore,
like memories
begging to be gripped
in palms that want
to be read. it aint shiny and new.
shells held to an ear,
there is message
in the sound;
we are just, content
with the mystery of it all.
"Empty your mind.
Be formless, shapeless,
like water.
You put water into a cup,
it becomes the cup."
Me and drowned
Bruce Lee, in the end
floating memories.
war came in like
a flood, no ark
nor shipped
platform to be
saved.
Memories dissolve
like aspirin.
We swallow
all we love
and understand,
the meaning of it all
hits us on review.
eventually,
we float
immortal
into other worlds
on the next tsunami.
dry bed
or wet,
we sink, we rise,
we float away
into other worlds.
we accept
the contract.
we ride the next wave.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)