Long Disown Poems
Long Disown Poems. Below are the most popular long Disown by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disown poems by poem length and keyword.
We read of clouds and flowers,
Trees and fields and hills of grass.
Alas, like pennies spent, our hours reading words
That other poets penned and sent;
Like freed birds flocking,
Knocking at our door. The poor,
Who seek to sneak a tiny peek
Of timeless, mindless, Truth.
The emotional nakedness of humanity.
The words of natural beauty are only made to be gifted.
We gift them, each to each, in a circular of vernacular
That does not come from without. It is the most real
Of what we steal from this world of dreams.
Seems as though each story, a rememberance of our own.
It is the button of pride they touch as much as anything
We might disown. For we see a part of ourselves forgotten
In each phrase or combination of words that touches us
Where we had forgotten to look, but now recall.
For we are all; We are all. We are ALL.
Traduced! Forgive but don’t forget is the adage
How can one heal whilst storing the ugly image?
It’s the lie entailed by cowardice…
So a mind, replete with forgiven but unforgotten
Turns irrational and presumes in verbiage rotten!
Imminently, bruises need a poultice…
Mired in all the untoward-pardoned-unforgettable
Eclipsed visages twist-taunt into the judge-mental
as he hammers over a ripped bodice…
Rage absorbed takes on a caliber hard to disown
Of a volcanic-type verisimilitude; shield unknown
under the buried-remembered, malice…
Nursed so long in remembrance, turns corrupt
Drinks in all the stored negatives to then erupt
in wanton caprice…
Surely, forgetting is requisite to forgiving,
for how is one to enjoy the present living?
Odious history’s peace…
Riding the past to fill moments in beauty
Memory retention is the declared reality
Enunciated with declining hubris…
(5/27/21)
And so it is, that both the Devil and the angelic Spirit present us with objects of desire to awaken our power of choice. There is an invisible strength within us; when it recognizes two opposing objects of desire, it grows stronger.
Rumi
Weeds persecute the gardens of my mind,
bad seeds are instigators for the unkind,
so, I plant vibrant petals for tomorrow,
did you know blossoms can feel sorrow?
I support them to bloom in delicate silence,
but strange paranoia is a relic of violence.
It hurts when withheld wounds are exposed,
life is better when I keep my eyes closed.
Should I apologise for my sullen demeanor,
so they can misjudge and become meaner?
I've become a misunderstood metaphor,
in a world of words not understood before.
I'm not an angelic devil nor a sinful saint,
but sense of shame is like polluted paint.
I'm tired from deadly brain sucking vampires,
draining my reservoir of peaceful empires.
Will it ever dawn upon the ignorant,
if I could turn back time it would be different.
In childhood we painted our faces on stars,
some looked for Venus, but I preferred Mars.
How we followed a colourful spectrum's shadow,
wondering if rain flows along the rainbow.
But in time imagination loses it's power,
we expire like dead seeds and forget to flower.
Is the pantomime of pain I've endured not plenty?
Can guilt bleed me dry, until all my sins empty?
Set me free from confines of jilted desire,
release me from burning in regret's bonfire.
Madness of my muse will never disown me.
In this hell I smile, as I still have my poetry.
Thomas Jefferson was a slave owner,
We know this from history.
And when he died, most were solid,
And very few ever let free.
Yet Jefferson himself put down the words
That led to our great progress,
When he said men were entitled to
“Life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.”
Do we ignore the man’s greatest ideas
That put bondage in its grave,
And disregard long volumes of wisdom
Because this flawed man owned slaves?
James Madison had slaves on his own,
He was a product of his day.
But could see no way to end it,
And the county somehow save.
Yet Madison was the driving force,
Behind that great constitution,
That has been the why and the how
Of our ongoing revolution.
The constitution that one day would
Put slavery in the earth,
Do we ignore the role that Madison played
Because he was a product of his birth?
Sam Adams, he was quite frivolous,
At least when it came to cash.
He spent far more than he ever made,
And was often broke in a flash.
But his passion for a free man’s life
Pushed him on to fight and cry
The British rule would be no more,
Sons of Freedom would fight and die!
The nation he helped bring about,
With prosperity now is flushed,
Should we ignore poor Sam and his travails,
Because he couldn’t handle a buck?
His cousin John Adams loved his wife Abigail,
But if you read their letters, she wrote
About whether women too had rights
A cause that John didn’t promote.
But Johnny was a force for independence
A passionate speaker and scribe
It’s possible to say, without his voice,
The cause would’ve withered and died.
And his taking office after Washington,
Set the grounds a fruitful tradition,
The transfer of power without blood and war,
Showed us all how to avoid that perdition.
It seems to me that many flawed men
Will possess that touch of wisdom.
I suppose that this only makes sense,
Perfection has no home in this Kingdom.
It seems to me that every age
Has some sins that it can’t dispose,
And our children’s children will look back
And the present age seek to disown.
But if we waited for perfect teachers,
So we could learn at their feet,
We’d all be waiting a long, long time,
And would all die dumber than sheep.
Words don't come easy
They really never have
They usually just come out messy
Leaving me with should haves
Should have walked away
Before opening my mouth
Not that I don't have words to say
It's just my mind speaks outload
Sometimes way too abruptly
Never with meaning to offend
Be careful of what is asked quickly
Because it will surely be my end
Please don't ask my opinion
Unless you are willing to accept
You will probably have to disown me
Because the response will be inept
Spoken truly with shaking
It seems I was born without
This simply thing is lacking
To stop the words out of my mouth
Evening turns to mime -
you emerge from its cameo artistry,
your dark unraveled hair cajoles
in a lamp shaded theater.
Moments clash together.
A denuding madness is ungloved,
a palpable heat mauls.
Long into the cleaving night
unsheathed and reckless,
flesh sings its serpentine songs,
waterfalls plunge into unleashed rapids,
hard ridden gestures
disown all gentle speech.
After the blood blushed tangle,
a listless languor.
We listen to the footloose night
as it slips into velvet slippers,
we ride the tide of a waning moonglow,
our hands shadow play,
mimicking the gossip of bare walls.
Raging Red nailed by reason to controlled anger
Shaded disappointment lies deceit corroding grey
White like the bathroom cleaner You swallowed
The smell of empty boundaries transgressed
Rusty razorblades oozing blood and manipulation
Distasteful taste of rotting matter mottled flesh
Colouring outside a medley of confused emotions
A striking demonstrative match incinerating
Abusing trust respect compassion care and shooting
Salvos like a paint ball onto pained grave canvas
Surely a polychromatic cry for helping with the
‘What’ the ‘Self’ the self-destructive saturation
But mind you this is a chance now one opportunity
To link from dot to dot your bleeding droplets
Yours to own disown your brush to break or stroke
31st 2018
I met him on a glowing screen,
A voice, a name, a face unseen.
He said I was special, called me sweet,
I wanted him, couldn’t turn away.
I said no, I drew my line,
But he smiled, said it was fine.
I wanted him anyway, I let it slide,
I felt the thrill I couldn’t hide.
He said the words I longed to hear,
Made kindness sound so real, so near.
I wanted warmth, I wanted care,
But he was never really there.
A year of talking, nights that never slept,
I shared my world, secrets I had kept.
I gave my trust, held nothing back,
He took it all, left me off track.
Maybe he liked that I believed,
Every lie that he conceived.
He smiled while pulling me apart,
Then left the wreckage of my heart.
Did he really love me, or just the thrill?
I scroll through old messages, caught so still.
He’s gone, unadded, yet I still chase,
The memory of wanting, the empty trace.
Sometimes I cry, short bursts alone,
I scroll through memories I’ve always known.
I wanted him, the pull I couldn’t disown,
A mix of desire and the flaws he’s shown.
Weeks pass and I can’t stop thinking,
Every thought of him keeps my heart sinking.
I still want him, I can’t walk away,
The pull won’t fade, it stays every day.
(cheeky p*ss take remake of Whitesnake)
So here we go again.. we all moan
Bazball mode is all this lot have ever known
Like a grifter now our Ashes chances blown
So we've made up our mind just stop wasting all our time
So here they go again…we all groan
Goad only on a road has Bazball ever flown
Need a bifter after tone of what they've shown
So far behind…the Aussies did easily find
Our boys got a pasting one more time
So here they go again.. we all moan
Seeds sowed but seems this team’s never grown
Need a snifter after Bazball so injury prone
Must be unkind coz you basting in your slime
So here we go again…we all groan
Bazball did implode time we forever did disown
Like a drifter seems born to walk alone
Bullsh*t been mined tasting something sublime?
So here we go again…we all moan
Going down like a load of convicts hasting their crime
Streams of blue fluid
Flows downward
As fragile carcasses decay
Without a peep of a sound
We’re in the brink of disaster…
Who invited such fear and anguish?
Who could lead us to quiet waters?
We bleed…
Polluting the waters below us…
Trickling down the mountain
To our filthy feet…
Cleansing the sin off of our skin
But, it’s tangled from deep within…
The eeriness breaks
The hearts of a thousand strangers
They all fall away powerlessly…
Into the chambers of death
Danger is lurking in every corner…
Pursuing its evil plans
To cut down our hopes…
Growing like crops…
Rising rapidly –
It never stops
Dreams of misfortune still
Rapes our minds,
Plaguing our happiness…
Consuming the darkness…
We’re sprawling on the ground…
We’re crawling like infants…
Veering briskly like serpents…
Who will set our souls free
From suppression?
Who will preserve our hearts?
Don’t prey upon our
Guiltless lives…
We’re in complete agony…
Does He consider
Our prayers
Of support and nourishment?
We scream…
Breaking the repulsive solitude…
Encourage us to keep on
Trekking toward Your light
Where’s Your path?
You rinse off all of the sorrow
Giving us a ecstatic tomorrow
The weeping ceases…
While the corpses
Tear into
Blood-spattered
Pieces…
The faith of a couple of people
Strengthens us…keeps us motivated…
Not captivated…
In misery…
We’re reaping our
Ecstasy…
Leading us to peace and fortune
Keeping us accustomed
To Your purifying spirit…
Keeping us away from
Calamity…
We’re hungry…
Our demise is close at hand…
Closing in on us abruptly
Like an obscure cave…
Rescue us from affliction –
Embracing downhearted clouds…
Those wretched clouds…
Brought us rain when we asked for bread…
Those merciless clouds…
Spewed out scorching fire when we asked for relief…
Remember our supplications…
Appalling lightning’s daring to strike us
Out of cruel vengeance
Out of sheer amusement
Don’t even attempt to weaken us
We’re blossoming in joy…
We’re under cover…
You can’t manipulate us
Like a subtle toy
We’re praying for
Quiet waters
Offer the deceased
A second chance
Don’t disown
Our broken lives
We’re not alone…
We’re just waiting until
The quiet, glistening waters
Gratefully arrives…