Long Disruptions Poems
Long Disruptions Poems. Below are the most popular long Disruptions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disruptions poems by poem length and keyword.
There are people who have not liked my voice,
Basically my words, from the very beginning
I was only young then and easier to silence
Now is different and they still try to silence me the same
- All I can say, it will never work -
They read these poems, they try their tactics
- They fear the truth I have to tell -
Only because, I have a story to be told, they want hidden
It is they, who created that story, not me
Sometimes I speak of it, sometimes I don’t
I face the disruptions in my life, when I do
For I have a right to my voice, and here it is
- As it will continue to be -
Heidi Sands
7/18/18
Election Day is getting closer than we think,
let's be ready and vote for the best candidate;
men have always been Presidents, not women...
shouldn't Hillary Clinton be the next President?
She can fight for your rights, improve living
and get rid of the frustrations that scare all;
Donald Trump could also be the next one...
he'll make changes and secure this nation.
Many fear things will get worse and nobody
will solve the problems that delay progress;
what about the young ones who won't have
Social Security? The system will collapse.
There have been disruptions through debates,
the freedom of speech cannot be suppressed,
it's a supreme right whether they like or not;
they should shut up and let the candidate speak.
Let the banners go up, and the commotion go on;
it's a joy to listen to somebody who takes your side;
happily applaud and let your intentions be known:
a nation with a fearless President will be a great one.
if tears of the sun were the metaphorical keys
to unlock twisted trinkets of the searing sky
would you feel the festering forest~
homing arctic orchids within these veins?
or am I to remain detached and numb;
caged in a cursed collision
like an evanescent epiphany
of a misled marionette ~
screaming for a cathartic elixir….
tonight my intuition is a passive-aggressive gaslighter
manipulating the inner voice ~ like a pathological liar
freezing the floral clairvoyance…
while curiosity keeps crawling
amidst crestfallen opium
I ponder: do frost and flame, as I breathe in bleakness~
transcribe how the echo
within the fog filters reality
curated in the midst of melted angst
fluctuating like stone-blind blackness~
a drop-dead delirium kissed by the darkness
of a silent sepulcher?
I’m a prisoner of splitting supernovae
caught in polarized pyretic disruptions
for everything feels like exaggerated deceit
when truth seems like a mere dot above~
a hyphen of irrational ratios
carved from calculated confusions,
betrayed by the violent strings
of my violin heart…
Fear strikes..
A jolt of fear arises..
A lightning bolt of fear illuminates in the sky..
A grand entrance it had made..
An uninvited guest..
The wrath of fear had wrapped it's frightful arms all around..
Fearful circumstances of negativity..
Fear of life..
Fear of death
Invasions and disruptions of fear..
Fearfully we are petrified of fear in itself..
We run away from fear..
We run rapidly
At the highest speed
Being chased by fear
The uninvited guest is directly behind..
Love is..
Opposite of fear
Enriched with profound love..
Deeply in love ..
Which is..
Carried out through the depths of the soul..
To taste pure sweet love..
Basking in the epitome of love..
The fullness of it all..
A full fledged experience to taste..
Experience of fear comes to play..
The uninvited guest had arrived..
The strike of lightning along a fearful bolt of electricity charged..
The wrath of fear and frightful arms wrapped around has no power without love..
The power of love...
To love ..
To truly love..
Fear shall become an invited guest..
An invitation to fear delivered..
To taste pure sweet love..
One must taste bitter fear..
To love..
To know love..
To love thyself..
One must know the complete opposite..
Which is fear..
Need not run away anymore..
Along the east coast shores of the Atlantic,
Bluefin tuna swim together in silver waters
Cresting in the sunlight’s lightening thin, rays that
Drape earth’s womb-waters in golden curtains.
Earth’s womb is blessed with many species of offspring;
Finned and plants, her children, all.
Gulls in watch-flight soar high above,
Hoping for dinner, a reward of her love for gifts,
In kind, it’s such good grub.
Just hear them winging, singing songs to
Keep those womb-waters, dancing along
Like a rocking cradle.
Music from the deep, brings such peace,
No disruptions here, in this tranquil place;
Only tranquility can replace the
Peace and security of the womb.
Quiet, serenity
Resides here, with all the
Secrets in Gaia’s keep.
Trust, no one will ever steal
Under cover of night, her secrets deep.
Vanquish will she, the villain invaders
Who seek to harm and steal her labors and claim her
Xiphosura children for their own desires.
Yes, Gaia’s womb’ed ones, she’ll fight for and precious
Zooplankton her precious ones, all.
Our hearts are like the ocean..
With depths some just can't reach.
They gaze upon the surface..
And stand upon its beach.
They take in the horizon..
Where the water meets the air..
And ponder on its vastness..
As the wind blows through their hair.
Some are afraid to touch it..
For fear they won't survive..
Thinking if they enter in..
They won't come out alive.
They spend their life observing..
They can't bring themselves to wade..
While wondering what they're missing..
And why they're so afraid.
Some cast pebbles, one by one..
To watch the circles spread..
Causing small disruptions..
Like the thoughts within their head.
An ever constant growing..
As they impetuously await..
But soon the rings just seem to fade..
Then slowly dissipate.
Other's like to take a swim..
And romp and play awhile..
Then once refreshed and satisfied..
They walk away and smile.
But they'll only enter in so far..
For fear that they will drown..
Or they will find an undertow..
Which will drag and pull them down.
There are those that skim along the top..
In man made boats they own..
Never truly getting wet..
While feeling all alone.
They have their rafts to save them..
Should the waves decide to rise..
They wear their life preservers..
Just incase they should capsize.
Many poise upon the shore..
With rod and reel in hand..
Fishing for some nourishment..
While standing on the sand.
Hoping for that special catch..
One which they can display..
Coming home empty handed..
Because the big one got away!
Discern choice anew
Curb contagious flair;
Bear home isolation
~~~~~~~~~
Deadly disease strain
Global pandemic;
Lockdowns, lockout
~~~~~~~~~
Chaotic uncertainty
Disruptions everywhere;
Normalcy devastated
~~~~~~~~~
Fear strangles
Panic erupts;
Empty shop shelves
~~~~~~~~~
Coronavirus outbreak
Pneumonia strangles;
A deadly frontier
~~~~~~~~~
Social distancing
Sea of surgical masks;
Fear hounds panic
~~~~~~~~~
Bad news anchors
Tragedy gains currency;
Death and suffering
~~~~~~~~~
Dire consequences
Desperate circumstances;
Coronavirus apathy!
~~~~~~~~~
Be humble yet
Pray for wise help;
Let faith prevail
~~~~~~~~~
Careless humanity
Viral terror strikes;
Push panic button
~~~~~~~~~
Luna light lingers
Days excrete toll;
Decipher decay
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
30 March 2020
Singapore
Let me tell you a story...
It has not happened often in our neck of the woods;
I can remember only one time we've had snow on Easter.
The Ohio River had flooded earlier
that March of 1964
causing many disruptions in our lives.
Our town had a floodwall which protected
its low-lying residences from damage;
but my aging grandmother had to evacuate her area
and come to our home ten miles north.
This flood was second only (in her lifetime)
to the disastrous cost and destruction
triggered by a 1937 deluge.
Her visit was haunted by the memory of
severe damage to their home and business
twenty-seven years earlier
during the worst flood ever on the Ohio.
She worried the whole time - re-telling stories
of how folks had taken sick with scarlet fever and pneumonia.
How they had to stay with higher-ground relatives
and the back-breaking clean-up after the water receded.
They had just bought a new square grand piano.
She told of how they put ropes under the
legs and hoisted up it to the ceiling to
protect it from the water damage.
This was the first time I ever remember
her spending any time away from her home.
She and my grandpa ran a small grocery store
and made their mark in the community
by also selling homemade ice cream.
Just prior to the era of swirling soft-serve,
Tom's Ice Cream was known for miles around.
When grandma finally returned to her home,
the damage was more than her eighty-five years could bear.
My German-immigrant granny died on Good Friday
and was buried on the following Sunday, March 29, 1964.
I remember well, we had a light dusting of snow that Easter,
a kind of heavenly eulogy
marking her entrance
to eternity.
April 22, 2022
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Form N - Narrative - New Poems
I chose a family theme
9/9/17
Don't f*****
Push my buttons
Really, really buzzin
Often high and drunken
Just trying to function
Stand in the way, and your ship will be sunken
No time for interruptions
If it is not about cash, end of discussion
Cold blooded
Leaving others gutted
Especially those that can't be trusted
A bunch of gluttons
And so much corruption
By the hundreds
Not dozens
They've been bluffin'
And frontin'
I wasn't
Really came up from nothin'
Did my own thing, got somethin'
And my name buzzin'
I blame myself for any self-destruction
No time for assumptions
Even after disruptions
And conundrums
Experiments continually conducted
Tools eventually rusted
Volcanoes erupted
Animals got hunted
Areas flooded
What some people just did
Left me disgusted
Which is why they quickly got punished
Since no one else did, I stood up to such rubbish
I was way down in a dungeon
Then clarity, came all of a sudden
Got out of there, and reached the summit
Way above it
With no intention to plummet
Or kick the bucket
While saying "f*** it"
Got strong like Paul Bunyan
Inside and out, no matter the obstruction
They shut off our power for about 3 hours
To make needed repairs they say
D'ya know how that affects our daily routine
Like our arm's been cut off half way
No heat, no lights, no computers, no telly
We might as well cash in our chips
Aware it was only from nine until noon
But my mind can't handle this blip
Anything different from my normal routine
Throws me in a kind of a dither
I get all sweaty and my eyes bulge out
My speech starts to slip and slither
I once was able to handle these disruptions
When I was young, handsome and virile
Now that I'm a slobbering vile old man
My mental capacity has fizzled
Some people suffer from a power shortage
Every single day of their lives
Got nothing to do with a disruption in hydro
Their ageing is in overdrive
© Jack Ellison 2013