Long Dislocation Poems
Long Dislocation Poems. Below are the most popular long Dislocation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dislocation poems by poem length and keyword.
SPACES-THEOPHANY
This is my beloved Son
Hear Him?
Note:'spaces' is an imagism form .It has a title and three line ,the middle being blank and left to the readers imagination. I labelled it 'spaces' as the middle line is an unsaid poignant pause or image.
Gael Turnbull(1928-2004,a Scottish doctor-poet created the imagist Spaces form in his collection Briefly (1967) a two line poem with a larger than usual space
Turnbull called poems using his device ‘Spaces’, and noted of these ‘The visual “space” is,a pause or hesitation, even a temporary dislocation of attention’ .
Note:(ichthys), or XIesoûs Khristós, Theoû Huiós, Sot?r;translates into English as 'Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior'
crushed at rock bottom he gathered the fragments of descent
slow motion agony that started at a plateau of deluded deceit
free falling sadness spiraling out of control beyond fast repair
the black dog on his shoulder had survived the fall and barked
another round of sadness an insurmountable sorrow cheered on
‘you are useless and even void and oblivion are having a laugh’
a tunnel with no light and the canary asphyxiated in the mine shaft
another panic attack unable to ease the landing of a scarred mind
scared and confused he gathered the pieces and stabbing shards
with broken bones and un-abating accusations he collected his guilt
fears and shame about yet another defeat at the foundation of evil
demons and miserable clairvoyants spoke in bifurcated obsessions
possessed by the mother of all depressions he reached for a glimmer
of hope he searched for a message from science deities and reason
yet unable to guide his emotions all efforts crashed without rescue
the rope had twisted once more and he dangled helpless face down
just enough slack to disfigure his angry face that featured disgust
and yet as the blood flooded his brain he surrendered his objections
one final attempt and he severed the noose with the open fracture of
the razor sharp dislocation sticking out just below the palm of his hand
with a further snap of his wrist and life line he surrendered lost dreams
if life gave you hemlock but the vessel had cracked on the impact
of the smash and grab of lifeless cycle of disassociated insanity he
resolved to drink his own blood and call upon autoimmune response
after all the medication had been useless and hours on Freud’s couch
had only imprinted more festering pressure sores on purulent skin
cognitive explorations had only dragged him further down self-denial
religion mantras and science had failed to invoke sanity and healing
levitation would not emerge when he fell from the edge of madness
the cross lay in pieces and nails had lacerated his heart and resolve
just when he felt the pulse getting weaker and with delirious gaze
he succumbed to a last ditch attempt to reassemble a piece of his soul
wrote an ultimate will on the wall and vowed to hand over let go and live
15th June 2020
Serious Sibling Subluxation...
Rapprochement Somewhat Salvaged Dislocation
This trademark ungainly, unsightly,
and unwieldy title essentially
huzzah mask ***** aid,
and accentuates tendency
(mine) to administer
reverent unpretentious yawping,
sans (asper thy usual)
wordy, nutty,
and gallimaufry charade,
though pointed lament
decries copious blather,
which awareness (in tandem
with better angels)
prevail upon sesquipedalian
quirkiness, might be
in my best interest to evade
leaving an unsuspecting
readers psychologically frayed,
and without doubt prematurely
finds same haired grayed,
akin to experience dramatic,
and sudden onset of progeria
hence, a concerted effort
will be orchestrated, i.e.made
fur me tabby
conscientiously choosing
modus operandi
to mute trumpeting,
associated with this one man
faltering hit parade,
hence, an intent to write
more clearly,
cogently, and creditably
qua more understand
able to in vite,
subsequently witnessing, an
increased authorial fan
base, and unite
easy to comprehend
intelligent conversation,
and/or share something trite,
anyway, thee impetus regarding
risking emailing
a younger sister,
where spite led to
dissolution, nee cessation
of brotherly
linkedin communication
engendered me to a right
emotional estrangement,
principally augmented
(thank you very much) by me,
viz in sum avoidance behavior
(purring, loping,
and humming along) quite
familiarly, easily, (no matter
discontentedly), alas and alack
moment seemed apropos
for this only bro
their to allow, enable,
and proffer selflessness -
pushing ego
(mine) aside and attempt to go
for the gusto hoe
embarking, kickstarting, and
resolving upon
reasonable resolutions
to convey persevere re-establishing
cordiality, despite misgivings
toward Shari Todd
(thee family member in question).
A center stage of flood light probing,
desperate living in a murderous onslaught
war's naked inhumanity
sky tearing rockets, a pinpoint rage
casualties that define a battlefield
carnage that sticks to history
joyless existence for those flash-blinded by fear
upgraspable horror that fails comprehension
What drives global mayhem?
territorial expansion, the lust of thieves
the dictator's creed
imperialist thrust to chop at a culture's roots
to replant borders through blood-shed
greed
onslaught war in tanks of clattering woe
brute spectacle of citizen dislocation
Do we ignore war till it comes to us?
as history hooks another dark cloak
no civilized dictatorship
no reserve to deflect blame
authoritarianism that hasn't breathed its last
for the murderer scheming in plain sight through
rubble-years
cumulative scars of foes push his nervous tick
an unending pleasure
malice that sticks like lipstick on a mirror
Do we just change one war for another?
Or is peace like the buried secrets of mummified souls?
still struggling to be heard
Knowledge of survival that evaporates like steam
Poem composed October 3, 2022
Contest: Pick A Title Volume 32
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
bemused
at the prospect of life
a personal vision
unashamed
minimalist
yet
melancholic
eclipsed
in a calm solemnity
uncompromising
full of abandon
passionately involved
a familiar narrative
encountering oneself
an artistic instinct
candour with revelation
and
yet
detached
from all the whys&wherefors
disturbed by experience
yet
innocent
lingering in this dislocation
of the cultural&spiritual
in
notions of intimate disclosure
shaped
by absences
challenged by self confession
encouraged
by
detached depiction
absorbed
by
relationships
oblivious
to comment
Hopes and prayers soar in aspiration
In this season of heightened anticipation
When diverse cultures in our great nation
Await their holidays with eager expectation
Channukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa -- in ideation
All Festivals of Light, their candles lit with jubilation
In awareness of their symbolic inspiration
Fervent flames proclaiming messages of liberation
Midst the darkness of December's nocturnal hibernation
And from its accomanying spiritual malaise and dislocation --
Blazing a path to renew mankind's powers of imagination
Rekindling our sense of wonder at God's purposeful Creation
I long for thy truant inspiration,
O Muse! (I feel thine absence for too long.).
Restore to me the gift of creation
once more,—that I may sing a new, gay song.
Reappear soon to my great elation,
O Muse! For thou canst never do me wrong,
or be the cause of my dislocation:
upon thy return my distress won't prolong.
On thine arrival, this crippling disrepair
of my Parnassus shall give up its sway,
and the end of my creative despair
will arrive on this most auspicious day
(like spring that welcomes existence everywhere),
when this new sonnet comes to life this way.
Serious sibling subluxation...
rapprochement somewhat salvaged dislocation
Truth be told about following poem
mostly written quite some years ago,
and revisions made to recreate
and revise a more satisfactory literary product.
This trademark ungainly, unsightly,
and unwieldy title essentially
huzzah mask ***** aid,
(my humble apology NOT
to incite unwanted
and unwonted anger
among lgbtqia community),
and accentuates tendency
(mine) to administer
reverent unpretentious yawping,
sans (asper thy usual)
wordy, quirky, nutty, heady, easy...
and gallimaufry charade,
though pointed lament
decries copious blather,
which awareness (in tandem
with better devilishly cherubic angels)
prevail upon sesquipedalian
nippy nap noopy quirkiness, might be
in my best (in show)
interest to evade
leaving an unsuspecting
reader psychologically frayed,
and without doubt prematurely
finds same cyber surfer
harried and grayed,
styled akin to experience dramatic,
and sudden onset of progeria
hence, a concerted effort
will be orchestrated, i.e.made
so everyone involved woodwind
fur me (a hip cat) tabby
conscientiously choosing
meow me modus operandi
to mute trumpeting,
associated with this one man
faltering hit parade,
hence, an intent to write
swiftly tailored and more clearly,
cogently, and creditably
qua more understandable to invite,
subsequently witnessing, an
increased authorial fan
base, and unite
easy to comprehend
underlying intelligent conversation,
and/or share something trite,
anyway, thee impetus regarding
risking emailing a younger sister,
where repressed spite led
to dissolution, née cessation
of brotherly linkedin communication
engendered me to make right
egregious emotional estrangement,
principally vitiated, nursed,
generated, augmented
(thank you very much) by me,
viz in sum avoidance behavior
(traipsing, purring, loping,
humming, and doodling along) quite
familiarly, easily, (no matter
discontentedly), alas and alack
moment seemed apropos
for this only bro
their to allow, enable,
and proffer selflessness -
pushing aside ego
(mine) and attempt to go
for the gusto hoe
embarking, kickstarting, and
resolving upon reasonable resolutions
to convey persevere re-establishing
cordiality, despite misgivings
toward Shari Todd
thee family member in question.
spaces-PECKING ORDER
Sparrow on the bird table
the hawk has a feast
Note:'spaces' is an imagism form .It has a title and three line ,the middle being blank and left to the readers imagination. I labelled it 'spaces' as the middle line is an unsaid poignant pause or image.
Gael Turnbull(1928-2004,a Scottish doctor-poet created the imagist Spaces form in his collection Briefly (1967) a two line poem with a larger than usual space
Turnbull called poems using his device ‘Spaces’, and noted of these ‘The visual “space” is,a pause or hesitation, even a temporary dislocation of attention’ .
Could you love
an old white redneck
with HIV,
inhaling too much medicine?
Could you love him
if he were able to listen
without judging,
but commiserating,
curious about nuances,
finding dark humor
transcending rumors
of ego’s timorous tumors
and climatic anthro-terrifying tremblers?
Could you love a sad house-bound poet,
with too many kids of vulnerable colors,
multiculturally married but neurodiversely separated,
haunted by recurring adoption-denied nightmares?
Abandonment
allows suffocation,
nutritional neglect,
dislocation
drowning embryonic surf,
tidal pools of loneliness
propelling salty
dark
dissonant compassions,
emotive compost
organically fueling preoccupations
toward resurfacing light.
Could you love him
if he could know what you feel,
and guess why
and wonder how,
and hope when,
and care where
we might want to hear
and feel and dance and breathe
this sacred co-opera again?
Could you love erotic simplicity
if delivered with truer exotic festivity?
Could you love integrity,
us becoming right synergy
here
and now?
Could we sacred love
exchanging secularized anger management
for musing compassion's
proactive
interactive
interdependent
inter-reconnecting
inter-re-ligious EarthTribe opportunities?
Could you love
these neurodiverse
neuro-sexsensory ones
you are already miraculously singing
and dancing within
without?