Long Dismal Poems
Long Dismal Poems. Below are the most popular long Dismal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dismal poems by poem length and keyword.
The bay and titian milestone
calls the universe
On everything we have to remember
2019 we met in joy
Raw in our hearts
We gathered in love
Humble without pride
We spoke in a voice
They called us golden ones
Oh yes! Golden ones.
After the last quarter
A strange duster appeared
And erased Gift out of the list
Many emotions were bitter
Just like me
That pended the elite Supper
Chronically, we arrived 2020
Which showed advances on arrival
The stretching chain started breaking
Everyone chose the birds they flocked with
Classic pride developed its wig
From the humble hearts
Everyone real colour start revealing
Like the rising sun in the morn.
Just a sudden
The world was attacked by Emperor'19
Everywhere was shut,
Everyone's lovers were distanced
Nations dropped like flies
Love, value and unity quenched
New fishes entered the friendship oceans of our comrades
In the pandemic period we experienced.
In 2021 we met again as earlier as expected
As there were different faces, such were different shoulders.
Everyone focused on its target
The class attendance dropped like a weighless scale.
Many break, many strike
Affect the 2021 journey.
Just like a flowing stream
The heaven sea journey to the left side
Gave the picture of the sun
Traveling from the North to West.
Days in, days out
There was not a single day without a memory
As we all gathered for the new 2022.
2022 was the year of planting fame
Many people worked to be recognized
The birds changed their groups
Everyone humbled again
Trying to move up a bit
As the result of the shock
From the previous exams.
'Just like yesterday
'I was a fresher
'Today I am an FYB'
That was everyone's comment
When we met ourselves
In the final level of the journey
In the 2022 summer months.
Despite the four years journey's metamorphosed
Into five years journey with hard stress
Joy crowned our hearts because everything is closer
We accepted to involve in the final stress
That has a short time
But so dismal, Lilly fell from the train
Almost at the bus stop.
Now on our table
We cheers to the love that we have got
Toast to the one that we lost on the way
The toast goes to every able that can read this;
And remember the memories we've been through
Which the bay and titian milestone
Has called us to remember.
You were the reason I could live through the strife,
You kept it from feeling like a stab with a knife.
Affection’s what I needed to make it through,
The kind of true love that I shared only with you.
That’s how I felt until one day,
You decided its better to throw it away.
The four months with you went by so fast,
Now I dread how long each day will last.
We would joke about me being locked in a tower,
Yet that’s how I feel without your power.
In a poem you wrote you said I am caffeine,
Now I know how you felt, I know what you mean.
As I was to you, you were also to me,
It just took losing you for me to see.
Having no you is like having no air,
You felt the same now it seems you don’t care.
A while ago you said you’ve fallen for me hard,
Now I sit here on the ground, I fell but I got scarred.
Before that night I thought we’d endure,
This was a fact, I was totally sure.
Then it came with your words that you unfold,
That you don’t want to see what our future will hold.
I promised to care for you through the thick and thin,
But now you've made that chance to be slim.
When was the last you listened to our song,
The way I find us now tells me it has been too long.
Remembering the times you’d say “I love you”,
Now I look back to find none of it’s true.
No one could love you as much as I,
I’ll keep our moments until I die.
I clearly remember those times we had,
Now they fade with you, I feel nothing but sad.
But what kills me the most was the look in your face,
What I had to look at when all this took place.
No frown, no sniffs, not a tear in your eye,
Even though it felt like I was ‘bout to die.
I had to stay strong and hold back all my tears,
All in the meanwhile being told my worst fears.
You said you would always love me so,
Though now I feel your love ceases to grow.
I sit here holding what’s left of my heart,
It slips through my fingers as it falls apart.
Now I look back at what seems a mistake,
But you’re the mistake I was glad to make,
The kind of mistake I would always make,
Even though it ends in my heartache.
Poetry from the heart you showed me to write,
And now it haunts me of that dismal night.
Though I know I’m not perfect and neither are you,
When we were together I felt that not true.
My life had no order but I was gaining control,
But now my heart’s left with a dark gaping hole.
Form:
SPECIAL INTEREST
With the thought processes of the masses overwhelmed
By the heavy burden
Of no influence on policy
And with little scope for advancement
Up the greasy pole
Insurrection and rebellion abound
Catching the chattering classes off guard
Traducing a broke government is the new game
To incite discontent and to pander to
Front page democracy the new weapon
Of those whose frustrations
Know no bounds
Unions and lobbyist throw their
Handbags out their prams
Yet they provide no new income streams
For a government on its knees
The pension pot is the new not to
Be touched holy grail
Its reverence brings to the fore those
Who wish every proceeding generation
To pay for today’s profligacy
Money comes money goes
Often the government seems to have none
To spend it all on special interest
Is a very selfish goal
This new era of austerity is but long overdue
A curb on the excesses that let the selfish
Do as they would please to do
With society’s blank cheques
A welcome break for the taxpayer
The one who petulantly foots the bill
Those that want more may need to pay more
A progressive system is not unwarranted
Tax is but essential to fill the pot
Those that have but give not
A blot on an otherwise decent lot
How selfishly all sides do behave
They want but refuse to give
To be the one who wins all
Exceeds all other considerations
No compromise is considered best policy
To lobby
To influence
To fool
These are the goals of the one sided
Minstrels of the selfish school
Knocked from their little thrones they rise
They but skew interest towards their cause
An unfair system
Built like a house of cards
That flutters in the wind of change
Selfishness is but a wanton Unhealthy game
A grand state of decay is society
Where wants and expectations
Outgun reality
A government unwilling to be brave
Allows democracy to shiver and shake
A useless waste of a vote
A dismal disgrace
Society is but made up of parts
That only function if all contribute
And everyone gains
Grappling hands should be slapped
We must all enjoy what our hard work has begot
A delicate balancing act is government policy
Frustratingly it seldom meets its aims
For the unintended consequences
Forever drown the initial good
Not everyone sadly wants policy to do some good
Seek out what’s best for you
Always remembering it’s not
All about you
Psalms 73:26 (KJV) "My flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.”
I’ve worried many times –
How can He save me? I’m so sinful, so errant,
Evil at my core, I think, corrupt in ways I can’t even admit,
How can He give me eternal life when I don’t deserve His sacrifice?
How can He save me from the depths of hell…
When I really deserve that darkness and despair?
If anyone should know the meaning of unworthy, that would be me,
The child who can barely see – how He went to the trouble….
Of saving me from the darkest destruction, the abyss of anguish,
The torment of a place I’ll never see… no, I’ll never know the suffering,
Because Jesus said, believe in me and you’re forever healed,
You’ll forever be mine, a child of the King, a light – however dim,
Who bleeds hope into this dismal world, where there is more doubt,
Than the faith that sustains, the faith that answers the door
When fear knocks boldly, eager to discourage the heart and soul!
I’ve worried many times –
How can He really be mine? I’m such a stumbling mess,
I really must confess – I never can imagine just why –
But He saved me from my doubts, from my fears, from my sins.
He saved me from the worst that I’ve known, the vilest past.
He saved me so I would never know what it means to die in my sin,
Unknown by Him, the One who taught me the meaning of love,
The One who silenced my every worry with the assurance that He…
Is alive inside my heart, burning away the darkest parts
With a light of grace that shines so bright I can barely see,
Yet, I understand – Yes, I was blind, but now I see… Yes, I see
Just what He did for me!
He is here inside my heart, inspiring my greatest hope,
Stirring up prayers and praise – inviting me to grow wiser
Than I’ve ever been, assured of the Presence who is forever
His Holy Spirit, in my heart where I can always be certain of the love
That will never doubt or fade out, love that survives all time,
Love that breathes joy into my life and love that is so kind,
Reflecting the brilliance of His light, glowing throughout all time!
Yes, I’ve worried many times – needless worries
Because He is alive and His spirit abides inside, where I know Him
As mine, forever shining so that I can see eternally –
Forever with HIM, the One who knows no sin!
The sun is burning my eyes, my hands and my feet
Harsh light scorches the ground, setting it ablaze
The heat brings out the pests and flies.
I run from sliver of shade to sliver of shade,
hoping for merely a minute of respite.
Praying that the clouds will bring relief and rain
Rain never comes day in and day out.
Every sunrise rings more and more pain
I’m wishing that there will be relief from the heat,
But I have doubts
Rain never comes and the heat never ends.
I don’t want to burn.
It never stops.
The water never stops flowing,
During the dismal gray days,
Into the pitch-black nights,
With time, they only get damper and muggier
I hope and wish to see the suns’ rays
I want to feel the light and drying warmth of the sun.
I want to stand on solid ground that isn’t washed away,
My hands are numb from the flow constantly soaking them.
I continually fight to keep my head above the surface,
Rain never ends and drought never comes.
I don’t want to drown.
I can’t feel my feet,
I wish the ice could be melted but the sun is frozen
I long for heat to visit this land,
The cold is taking me captive
I want to feel a warm sun again.
An ice wind never ceases, never leaves
Bringing more snow and cold that bites
The endless wind taunts me with memories of warmth in the summer breezes
I can’t feel my hands.
I wish for just one spark,
I pray for just a small flame,
Something to melt the frozen sun.
I don’t want to freeze.
Far away I see a glimmer of hope,
A dark rain-laden cloud in the distance
Could this day be the last of the drought?
Could it be? A break in the clouds?
Yes, a ray of sunshine in my soggy gray world
The flood’s time is over
The sun is rising on a frozen plain once more
But I hear it, hope is nearby,
The dripping of melting snow and ice
As my hope builds, it is also torn down.
The cloud is gone;
The burning, ever burning sun has taken it.
I wish I wouldn’t burn.
But it isn’t so, the clouds have closed my only hope
They have destroyed my chance of standing on land
The rain pours and floods evermore.
I wish I wouldn’t drown
It wasn’t so, I didn’t hear a true sound.
The dripping was my own heart,
With my ears wishing to hear melting ice so much.
I wish I wouldn’t freeze.
We wished and wished,
We tried and tried,
We survived as long as we could,
But
I burnt.
I drowned.
I froze.
Accursed human species
case in point Vladimir Putin,
who strikes terror across globe.
Don't underestimate his hell bent
zeal to attack United States,
one blood sucking infernal
predacious *****sapien
mercilessly bullies, interrogates,
threatens... with zeal.
Considerably less mortifying
constitutes wrathful ordeals
exhibited by adults who treat
thine wife with indecorous jibes
like punks who sat back of bus
or classmates at Methacton
High School, mine alma mater.
No different than typical mean kids
many crotchety residents here
Highland Manor Apartments
majority residents aggrieve the missus
though said counterpart (thee spouse)
exudes standoffish poise
countenance dons and
nonverbally trumpets scowl
body language broadcasts
social graces be damned
easily interpreted as snub
engendering hostile imprecations
cruelly fiendish provocations
undermine capacity to experience
peace of mind
exacerbated by her
figurative cold shoulder
propensity to flip the bird
notched, ratcheted, torqued... tension
courtesy miss prissy heiress,
daughter, she secured management role
albeit (hats off) to nepotism
guarantees lifelong job security
issued thee missus warning
rental stipulation disallows
overt middle finger flashing signal
emotional entanglement ensued
yours truly tasked
to pursue more favorable environment,
yet scant finances (mine)
and poor credit
two strikes against
locating affordable living situation
since sole family income
social security disability
direct deposited monthly
buzzfeeding checking account
regularly near anorexic,
cuz additionally I pay
costs of living expenses
cole king avoiding being homeless,
thus this penniless
among dime a dozen
day late dollar short
low income bracketed
(marching with madness)
mister casts quandary
couched as poetry,
no great expectations,
nonetheless cathartic to communicate
(hoop fully understandable)
present tense plight
projected as plotted trend
fat and/or slim chance
fate will curse me as lottery winner
pipe dream teasing
this word plumber flush with ire,
who feels nsync and drained
scraping hand to mouth
bemoaning apathy, dismal
effort, gross indifference
toward self sums (mein kampf)
plus academic struggles
proffers grim forecast
as coxswain at mercy
rudderless ship of state
edges closer to his waterloo.
The crone can hear the children's laughter, cold as ice
And they exclaim out "witch", not thinking she can hear
Their parents then admonish, "Try to be quite nice."
Upon her thin, emaciated form they leer
Of love forbidden she has paid the awful price
Malicious magic powers all the children fear
She only wears black, mourning each and ev'ry day
Her world is full of dismal, somber shades of grey
She loved a wealthy cultured handsome gentleman
But she had not the clothes nor proper pedigree
And never would be issued any wedding bann
For poverty did not amuse his family
When finding herself great with child of his, she ran
She felt displaced, just like a dead uprooted tree
In bleak back alley child unwanted disappeared
No chance immoral tainted peccant child be reared
Although she lost her core, her heart, her soul, her mind,
She wandered dazed and crazy back to town she knew
Her fam'ly said, "We never have produced your kind."
There was no place to go and nothing left to do
But after mournful agony she came to find
Satanic powers very evil she would rue
She met the incubi in wooded forest glen
Although she knew it was an awful, grievous sin
Her soul and body raped by evil forces bold
Instilled in her the seeds of their foul awful pow'r
That grew more potent as she grew extremely old
Demolished, shattered self continued still to sour
Her sterile body, now quite barren, grew ice cold
A vile vexatious tongue lashed out at all each hour
Thus she became a bitter venomous old hag
While dressed in filthy clothes; on head, a dirty rag
She met a fine genteel young man, so good and kind
A person reaching out to all in charity
Attempted making better lives where he could find
He wanted human folk achieving parity
However, he had never met an evil mind
The succubus seduced his soul with clarity
She crippled psyche; took his cash, his bonds and stocks
Her languid lips convinced him caged; no keys for locks
Then when the moon was full one night, she murdered him
Around his vile demise all sorts of tales arose
She had dismembered rigid corpse each limb by limb
Disposed so very well of ugly bloody clothes
The whole ordeal had been a gratifying whim
Upon his naked body set a blood red rose
His corpse was never found; base tales do not abate
Today she suffers vile result of cruel fate
Love without Beloved,
Beloved without Love,
neither alternative could be
me without you
you within me
both equivalent would be
We.
We without you,
or me,
this simply can not be,
we takes both equally
bidextrously
ambivalent
Without me,
just you,
or me,
which We cannot
co-arisingly be.
I could not be me
without a you,
nor you
without a me,
as I, you see
we're not at home
in silo-by-silo
universality,
confusing coincidentality,
poor performing
economicality,
dismal absence
of ecologicality,
teleologically teasing
merely biological We.
If no Earthy EcoSystem,
then no Me.
If no Me, then no exegetical
metaphysical
metamorphical
polycultural
permaculturing Be.
If no Belonging,
then no longing.
If no longing, then no hope
of Belonging.
If no becoming, then not Being
seeing
sensing
souling
solving
resolving
resonating
hibernating
sublimating
en-double-lightening We.
If synapse
were not quite so closely haunted
by relapse
deep learning might be
as boringly unpredictable
as gravity's self-creational
bi-relational
lapse.
When East and West learn to divest
of Othering culture's absence,
as South and North learn to invest
in Other culture's apart-sense,
then PermaCulturing Design
will co-redeem
sustainable We
polyculturing our healthy Planet
polymorphic economics
polypathic ecologic
becoming PolyWealthy Therapy.
Messiahs turn Left
to Rightly Prophet
and CoMessiah Right
to EcoProphesy Left
and back again
to revolution Earth ethics upside down,
with SunGod's cooperative rays on top
of Earth's economically rich
deep pie charts
and global graceful synergy spread wide
warm watery reception,
challenging bi-generic tree-ringed contractions
of grace,
karmic abundance,
a Bun Dance away from narcissistic ignorance
Ego's fancy prance,
of why when we each and all come together,
in love's full climaxing bilateral embrace
we turn our identities future side down
a pace
in this HereNow timely space.
We each come to redeem our Ego investment
born of Earth's long-spun
cosmic fun
regenerating narrative,
double negative binding Identity
creating SuperEco-Normic
sticky Bliss
Is not
Love without Beloved,
Beloved without Love
neither alternative could be
me without you
within me
both equivalently
must be
gummy We.
Clarity, clarity, surely clarity is the most beautiful thing in the world, A limited, limiting clarity I have not and never did have any motive of poetry But to achieve clarity.
George Oppen
If it wasn't for poetry,
how would we portray stars of clarity?
Moon would appear silently ordinary,
how would we express that which is contrary?
Verses without stardust shimmer would be horrid,
no metrical composition would sound torrid.
No sapphire skies nor turquoise tides.
No ivory shores nor firefly guides.
No magic of butterflies dancing under moonlight.
A travesty of no lullabies to ease before midnight.
Horizons would appear blank, dismal and dark -
your muted muse would forfeit their spark.
If a poet's conscience suffers a premature death,
how would you honour their quill's last breath?
How would you express that painful goodbye?
No legacy for our words to poetically beautify.
Unable to honour memories of the deceased -
an unwritten elegy cannot praise a masterpiece.
Autumn would just be a modified season.
Spring slowly blossom without a reason.
Summer would bring no wonder in flowers.
Winter would be grey with freezing showers.
Would music suffer from atrocious lyrics,
unmetered songs only lead to hysterics.
Would poetic love exist?
Would our lips have ever kissed?
No expressions to defeat hate.
No epodic justice to fate.
No sweet sonnets to revere.
Shakespeare's world would disappear.
Romeo would not woo Juliet.
Literature students would forget
bards who bled ballads before us -
what would lovers have to discuss?
No angst or alliterations.
No 3am damnations.
No syllable creations.
No lustful flirtations.
An end to narrations.
All lost translations.
If there were only ugly words,
would it be the end of singing birds?
No emancipation of the oppressed.
No catharsis for the depressed.
Hearts would repress and suppress.
Demons would stress and digress.
If it wasn't for poetry,
I would still be a mystery.
I would not speak in rhymes,
there would be nothing to define.
My soul a misunderstood metaphor,
drowning in an inkless reservoir.
Life would become a burden,
as petals die in my poetic garden
and after everything has been said and done,
there would be no Poetic One.
In magical verses weave your fated heart's request,
With metaphors holding the shy choir of light abreast,
When hearts corroded by hatred in barrenness rest,
And chains of thought whip gently the gentle flight's zest.
If you are to regain control once more,
When friends of yesteryear were but a lore,
Whose drab garments through time emphatically wore,
But forgiveness you've secreted from its core.
And if in hope you can stand upright,
Not raising armor before the liar’s project slight,
When rage whispers edicts as if to indict,
Melt it in calm, with spirit bright.
Show the world whole your portrait fair,
No masks, no regret, laid bare,
And if you dream of deep breaks in despair,
May you not become in others' lives a dismal seer.
When eternity throws its cold shadow in your corner's crease,
You should gaze with eyes that do not buckle under time’s caprice.
Every living moment in time's palm surely will not cease,
On the heart's scale, they demand to be released.
If you can listen when the truth is spoken,
Alien and shifted in a world that's been broken,
And to persist through the common lies outspoken,
To find faith beneath the frothy spray's token.
If you dare face decay’s embrace without dread,
Avoiding the gilded pleasure's feigned spread,
And in autumn whispers feel your stern fall ahead,
In the poverty of a sky that once display had fed.
Risk carrying on the die heavy, precious pearls,
Wager all that you've got for a fleeting twirl,
And then, whoever you are, learn not to hurl hopes like chaff,
Your failures become a path leading to something more sacred, more daft.
Endure, in a feeble body, remorse and persistence,
Wearing a smile as a shield, melting the tormenting ice of existence.
Cherish the moment that remains in unending instance,
With a soul lined in armor's silent resistance.
If you can fill the silences in empty spaces,
When shattered times speak with yesterday's faces,
Replenish them with fresh sparks among the disgraces,
Then you will build from seconds, unbroken traces.
And the Earth shall through you be magnified,
And all that writhes in its infinite tide,
And in this great shaken, you'll uncover as scribed,
That you're a whole man, not just a soul that's been pried,
Not part of the herd whose times have dried,
But master of the strength from your own dream derived.