Long Disclaim Poems
Long Disclaim Poems. Below are the most popular long Disclaim by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disclaim poems by poem length and keyword.
I have given all I have—
The hush of dawn, the summer’s breath,
The songs I sang when skies were grave,
The strength that stilled another’s death.
Gentle light, the darkest night—
Shine not for me, but for the lost,
Who walk in chains, who dwell in blight,
Who know not yet the final cost.
I stood amid the thorn and flame,
And wore the burden others fled,
And when they mocked my mother's name,
The stars grew silent overhead.
I asked no crown, I craved no praise,
I sought no scepter, built no throne;
Yet still I rose through lesser days,
And carved a path where none had gone.
Rage against the gentle night,
Where soft deceit and silence dwell—
The thieves that robe the just in white,
Then sell their stories down the well.
The bushes hid the mourner’s tear,
The tree’s deep roots drank up the grief;
And time stood still, but none drew near,
To offer hope, or bring relief.
Lord, forgive them—still they know
Not the weight of what they do;
They trade their mercy for a show,
And scorn the love that once was true.
I have loved not them who kill
With glances cold and tongues of lead;
I have loved the meek, the still,
The broken ones the world left dead.
I gave my joy, I gave my youth,
I gave the stars their silver song—
And now I stand in ruthless truth,
Among the dust, where I belong.
Yet still, within the battered shell,
A spark endures, a tender flame—
A voice that will not bid farewell,
A whisper none can quite disclaim.
Let the wind cry out my name—
Let the rain remember me;
I have given all I have—
And that, at last, shall set me free.
Who am I?
To make such a bold claim as—
Is there anybody out there?
Allow me how.
When nobody is looking…
No-body isn’t ever;
humane.
Let alone human.
You are somebody and I…
Who in God’s name is;
humane?
Nobody is!
Nobody is, for lack of a better term, inhumane.
Somebody is always looking.
You are who you be.
Be who you are.
Perfect may not be quite so normal.
Nobody is ever;
normal.
Last time I checked—
Normal was right up there, along side, with perfect.
Perfect is possible.
Especially when
nobody’s looking...?
It’s normal to accept failure.
Typically coupled with such a bold disclaim as—
Somebody’s Perfect!
If consciousness were to exist
beyond the self
What opinions
might it change
Can something exist outside its
own space
Can something be something
it’s not
Is time the new slave
to the master it birthed
Can the end
be started again
Can the future or past,
exist on their own
Can the present
be something untouched
Can you believe what the facts
will disprove or disclaim
With reflection beyond logic
and guilt
Can you teach what you’ve learned
in spite of yourself
Can your silence
tame the mountainous roar
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Together we connect with
Out of step see
Maybe mixed might may
It be that seed we plant
Informed reform rob unites
We see to be or nay say we
Claim too lame we disclaim a relevant
Release at these exchanges that
Open up at ease without
Need for rearranging
Lost we succeed too
Many other nights.
But last we yesterday. ..
And be what it just may
And back to my old shelf.
I work and plague for days.
Viewed differently than today
Claim to lame to disclaim.
No need release exchange
We see to be or nay.
Mixed up might may
But last we yesterday.
And be what it just may. ..
-Quiet voices with low decibels are taken with offense. Preconceived notions, spoken words without thought, inserting smileys to disclaim. Invertebrate personas can be seen evaporating from the skin, with the naked eye. Forming a resin that keeps building up over time. Labeling you with defects of character. Beating around the bush, hiding from problems; loose ends form. Texts twist the dough sprinkled with good intentions. Life's a *****, it hurts, don't it? Untied shoes are today's special, featuring potential failure. Intentional lack of preparation. Detached from the lanyard of civilization. Eyes disconnect; declining their calls. Reading the texts with disregard. Getting notifications and silencing alarms. Misdirected; free-falling off the imaginary edge of fictional beliefs. Playing a new version of make believe. Pretending with the help of it's big brother assumption, the answers we do not know. Taking offense to the actions committed with good intent. Overthinking the simple things in life. Misinterpretations of the harmless innuendos.
Why can't spring
last as a deep feeling,
and remain joyful and eternal?
What makes this season so vital and wonderful...
adorning our earth with flowers so delightful?
Who is so dubious to disclaim it?
True faith admits no doubt...
will the heart?
My spring was too brief,
only desire outlived it...
floating as a leaf:
to taste death on barren ground:
such is the fate of all leaves!
Perhaps nostalgia is deeper than regret,
making me yearn with useless tears
and in doing so sorrow deepens...
without realizing I have no control over it.
Return spring with a new child in me,
making me run towards the sunflowers' filelds
increasing my chances to find serenity...
return spring, but don't be short and cheerless.
Years age the body, not the spirit...
as seasons remind us how fragile we are:
living one life and returning dust as before...
without voice, flesh, blood and thought.
Line of inquiry:
“We have been here a thousand times before
Memory erased, each time we begin anew
Of hands held tenderly, we’ve lost the score
Each embrace virgin like fresh morning dew
To which image, oh dear soul, should we cling
For each heart was at some point of time dear
As we flow through life with zest, zeal and zing
In all forms we see God’s presence appear”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“As our soul passes through the annals of time immortal,
Each life I claim as mine looking through life’s portal.” ~~ The Poet ~~
As the perpetuity of an eternal flame,
My soul carries on, all memory I disclaim.
Each life fulfils a quest for human birth,
His grace offers breath and instils worth.
I believe then we come to know our Creator.
An inherent bond. No need for a translator.
Each baby has a God given virtue within.
The soul is pure and free from original sin.
This is the image to which we must cling.
Its inner existence is almost everything.
Over time the bond may ware on its edges.
Even veer from Him as we create wedges.
During each life at times faith may wane.
That deep seated bond can surface again
If we are able to cling to His presence,
Teachings of His love will be the essence.
We will make every hurt a stepping stone.
To joy such as we have never known.
Though life can be an arduous climb to bare.
We will reach the top, for God is there.
There is a corruption we all should abhor,
It starts on the left, and corrupts to the core,
Cancer of the soul, if left to go on,
It takes bit by bit, ’till the whole soul is gone.
Makes people think that there are no values,
That everything’s fine if it’s ‘true to you,’
Moral absolutes they loudly disclaim,
Then turn and wonder why the world seems insane,
Why their true feelings don’t bring happy lives,
Only leads to a black rage deep in inside,
‘being true to you’ is a moral perverse,
With no standard to judge, things get much worse.
What’s ‘true to one’s self’ for those fond of rape?
Should the serial killer show his ‘true’ face?
And what of the types who change ‘truth’ every week,
Then act offended if anyone speaks?
The corruption permits them to silence all,
Pushing more and more, until it all falls.
The corruption pushes out all real beauty,
Replaces it with the fecal and ugly,
Throws out the masters who’s work defies time,
Declares that splatter and blank space is ‘sublime.’
Renir, Bougereau, Bierstadt, and Degas,
Masters whose paintings amazed all who saw ,
Now me have charlatans, ‘artist statements,’
An art world that can’t uplift, just dement.
The same trend pus music into a plight,
Ignore Beethoven, ’cause his skin as white,
No longer to Mozart do critics clap,
But ‘es and ’hos,’ that’s where it’s at!
Celebrate decline, claim that it’s ‘sincere,’
As it there’s no ‘real’ behind beauty and cheer...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Our Political Divide
Miracle Man Opinion
6/17/2022
Each time a problem, of any kind, rears its head,
the establishment quickly looks for someone to blame.
Efforts should be directed toward problem solving instead,
but one party or the other goes all out to disclaim.
No matter what happens it’s the other party’s fault,
they’ll appoint a commission and hold kangaroo court.
Then ravage each other with a constant verbal assault,
while distorting the truth, to the media they resort.
Some wonder why many politicians aren’t respected,
they're adept at speaking from both sides of their mouth.
They cover their backsides and the people are oft neglected,
while our country is invaded by those from the south.
“When they call the roll in the senate,
the senators do not know whether to answer “present” or “not guilty.”
Theodore Roosevelt
9-24-15
Drop off written document box—
Cliff…
Cavernous crevice—
The gap…
|Space| between the lines—
Infinitude…
Continue to-do—
Proposed madness…
Accusation—
Abuser…
Formatted contextual suicide—
Any last words?
Nuff said;
Feller-poor—
Naughty-nuff-ever-
Poor-feller-for…;
Naughty-Nuff-
Ever-poor—
Clever-poor-feller-forever-more—
Gallery-glamorous-galore-
Poor nuff-not-ever-more—
Furthermore related by propositional disclaim—
Plea bargaining forever-more…
Embodied image interrogated—
Seemingly poor-
Naughty-Nuff wants more-for-less-more-for
Nuff-said-feller-poor—
Ever-if-fortune-wins-glamorous-galore—
Poor-feller-remains-for-ever-more…
Wonder why?
Why wonder-for?
For why-for-wonder-more?
More-or-less-for-ever-wonder—
What wonder-for?
For why wonder-for—
Why am I writing—why-wonder-more?
More for why wonder-what-for—
A LEDGER. . .
No less or no more—