Long Dislodge Poems
Long Dislodge Poems. Below are the most popular long Dislodge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dislodge poems by poem length and keyword.
Don’t anchor me here too close to shore.
I need to explore; though I’m still young,
life is a vast, boundless ocean in front of me -
perhaps precarious -
but filled with so much of the unknown
it beckons me with its fathomless allure.
Oh, how I long to plumb its depths,
for I was born for adventure.
I know you do not like to acknowledge this,
but riding life’s currents is the only school I desire.
Right now I am inexperienced;
the years in front of me are many.
Thank you for the wisdom to tie me here a while longer
with only a stone that does not a proper anchor make,
for I will grow in knowledge and in strength.
Then my determination will dislodge this killick,
and you shall watch me sail away one day.
Don’t fret, dear ones; you have raised me well.
I’ll be ready for the voyage of my life.
I feel a slight touch on my arm and look down
and………….it’s a spider
Despite the heavy circumstances in my life and a
migraine weighing me down
I fly to my feet and spin around trying to dislodge
the creature that is much more nimble than I am
I try leaping as each joint in my body complains,
I try flicking it off, but as we are both moving,
it evades me and continues to run down my bare arm
I rush to the door and fling it open and continue
my graceless dance on the porch as the neighborhood
begins to wake up for the day, I am pretty sure I am
yelling at this point and I feel sweet relief as the
eight legged arachnid jumps from me to the porch railing
as I sigh and begin to realize where I am and who else
is present. I wave to my neighbor and say a chipper
“good morning” as my face floods with color and I realize
I am acting very odd, but to be honest, who cares?
The spider and I are both safe it’s not crawling on me
anymore. I sigh and begin my day, hopefully without
encountering any more of God’s eight legged creatures.
Lets raise the happy flag
So we can see
Delivered with flowers
From me to you
Lets rejoice of the beauty
That is shared
When we invite positive people
In our sphere
Life is a short journey
With its twists and turns
So in-order to survive it
We create our happy world
Devoid of troubles and strife
Devoid of jealousy and pain
With showers of love
From our happy rain
Lets awake a consciousness
Let us live again
Let us forget our sorrows
And drive in our happy lane
It is not hard to do
When we vanquish misery
When we see the light
That obstacles that surround us
Is not of our choosing
Neither our birthright
So we try and surmount them
As they arrive
With a will and determination
To put things right
Others we count as a loss
Some we cant dislodge
We can only be grateful for the blessing
And raise our happy flag
Searching for contentment
And peace of mind
Searching for truth and kindness
Echoing the nature of the divine
Not as a victim of existence
But a leading light
Entering the cosmos
As a bright star at night
When memories are memories long-lost,
and when infancy's twilight hides what feels
like lifetimes in half-dreamt dreams, sleep storm-tossed
surrenders glimpses of childhood's ideals
now only half-remembered. It is these,
that I dislodge from my still obscure past
(existing despite the present's dis-ease),
before life as an outcast unsurpassed.
Like echoes from out of immortal time,
mnemonic ghosts appear and disappear;
and now are fixed in everlasting rhyme,
writ on earth under this celestial sphere.
And since upon remembrance of things past,
my late innocence returns at long last!
many are lions as once was I,
but now I sit on the porch
and swing.
As I watch my lives go by.
would it be so bad to dream
and of dreaming be enclosed
in the circular motions
of others
I once wore a paisley shirt
and said goodbye,
watching an only ball
rolling down the gutter
disappearing
into the mouth of a sewer.
Those empty moments of every life
where the thought never occurs
Astonishment
is what they call it:
the unexpected experience
a dead zone.
the zero.
Our heroes
always appear in bright spots,
hence the halo.
I have not seen my blood for a time.
It is the red that always remains
who we are, where we are,
what we are not,
it allows the internal to emerge
the external to enter
more often than not
there is fear
but when fear comes
you must remember that it comes
it comes.
therefore, it was never really here
to begin with.
I have tasted wooden spoons
when the batter is gone,
my tongue brushing the fibers
of the wood, it feels good.
that curved kernel of popcorn,
a golden retina of shell,
married to the curve of enamel
Artfully bonding to an outside tooth
where the tongue cannot dislodge it.
I tasted metal lips pressed to mine
where water and life emerged.
the faucet was my friend.
I tasted places where tongues explore
and eagerness collapses,
touched the velvet back of caterpillars,
stroked pollen wings of things
more beautiful than I.
I have seen the beauty
of those things that mount the sky
I have slain and lain with things
and wondered why.
And I have thought.
This alone ought to be enough,
but we are always
and have always been
more than enough.
The joy of fervent freedom suffuses my sky,
enraptured heart’s allured songbird soars high,
glides in the spring-rippled amorous air,
carries your fleeting jasmine flair.
No one sings the song of lonesome yearning,
for the thunder storm of strife surges in
from the illusive horizon receding to obscurity,
the wrench of desertion crushes my ecstasy.
The crippled bird folds the wings curled,
like the withered flower painfully unfurled.
Mangled mind endures the pangs of isolation
in the ruined nest made of twigs of emotion.
The wilted petals dislodge from the floral fold
as the snow storm blows winds of desertion cold.
The devout flower finds the dreams in debris,
in the rustle of leaves its sigh subsides weary.
Radiance of the spent sun sets with a lonely creep,
an impaled bird loses its course in blue deep
of the far away sky not yet flown.
The pain of broken heart feels like black cat moan.
(Inspired by Glenn Hudges' song Black Cat Moan)
In the distant sea, a misty vista
Wearing a shroud of pale blue illusion
It sends forth silhouette of fiesta
A wake-up call for my faint sensation
On goes the red and pink pursuit for more
Shades of beauty in our daily struggle
A tango of time in tide on the shore
Rustling sounds in the moments of bubble
With the red rose tucked in your bun of hair
The wild wind keen to dislodge your sari
We are aloof in our velvet armchair
Distress accrues in your tense inquiry
The woodpecker looking for more and more
Let’s turn on to answer the purple door
____________________________________
26/01/2017
Get up and at ‘em be strong,
feeling I am reborn,
coming back and full on
like an atom bomb!
Expose their corruption
my life saw disruption
I’m putting right the wrong
from where I left off,
unsighted and lost,
but I’ve worked it now,
connect the dots,
going berserk (bloaw).
All I needed was understanding,
couldn’t tell, look potty and shot,
standing strong now, shouting all I’ve got.
Giving it back to cowards
for slander attack, you aint empowered,
and this ain’t back handers or slapped faces,
it’s baseball bats and collapsed in places,
metaphor, you fool,
I use words to tell all.
Remember me?
Obsessed with bringing me down,
made an enemy,
left me beaten on the ground,
it wasn’t the end of me,
by you my friend I’ll never be!!
You changed me and strained me,
left me mentally exhausted and drained,
controlling my reputation, like trolls,
shrinking opinions,
Satan spawn minions.
Strolling through life in the free,
silently proud of what you did to me,
living fearless, all clear,
wetting your pants when I reappear,
and I’ve no fear,
alive so all can hear,
survived to get here!!
I’ve so many angles to ring bells,
shake up made up minds in that hotel,
you contaminated them then, now they don’t care,
until one thought they have seems spare,
so they think back to yesteryear,
and suddenly link up as question marks appear,
as lost logic starts to become clear.
What I say will line up, ring alarms,
dislodge your corrupt,
I’m not out for physical harm or have you in a line up.
Telling my story, it’s written,
it’s just this,
come back biting poetic justice,
think I fight just fists,
I've wit and you're just twits.
Now I understand, I drop it move adjust flourish,
understand why I was discouraged,
putting truth on a perch, it ain’t perjury,
my story you got me personally.
and others won’t see the truth if they choose not,
but it’s there in view and now won’t move or be forgot,
so if people refuse they do as they do,
in time they may question clues and ask questions of you.
I’m done with it now anyway,
spoke and exposed,
my link to all this now disposed.
All I needed was to understand, now I do,
I’m a rose re-rose and roses grow,
with thorns that warn,
I’m done now, letting go.
And I’m feeling good too,
I’m living life, and I’m not you.
A giggle and screech filled pond
on the crushed gravel path
a sheen of sweat forming
on my medditeranian nut browned skin;
waylayed was I by a hitch-hiker.
The gnat maintained a steady oribit
about the circumferance of my head,
wether held there by some unknown power
or the monumental magnetic magnitude of my brain;
none will ever know.
Arms swinging at a frantic pace
it seems impossible to believe my pinwheeling form
was unable to dislodge this bugger,
keeping a geosynchronous orbit around my noggin.
Yet, the likelihood of a tag team
of insectoid astronauts seemed slim.
As the silken breeze went weaving amongst
the pines and rustling withing the pond weeds
armies of these pin pricks of horror swarm
attending summer clad fishermen, beet red two year olds
and there hippopotomus shaped mothers in the drink.
The doldrums of August have begun in earnest,
as the black flies decend, probing their universe,
persistant and provoking as the humans they oribit.
The light that lights the sun
Shines within our glowing heart
Cognised when we come all undone
Whereupon bliss ignition within us starts
Eternal noumenon manifesting phenomena
Innate aliveness screen of awareness
In silence no longer an enigma
As light of consciousness
Light that from within radiates
Unable to behold it’s luminescence
Save through mirrors in stillness sedate
Clear light shines upon meditative innocence
Moon beauteous softens the suns bright light
Making the source of light itself envious
For the sun lacks as yet inner sight
Of its own luminosity oblivious
Fish in the river feels thirsty
How then may we fulfil its longing
Koans and parables dislodge serenity
Thus deluded earth entity keeps on weeping
Ominous darkness under the light of a candle
Illusion having no independent existence
Yet shadows get on mind a handle
Urging light to pay penance
11-April-2021