Long Dissipates Poems
Long Dissipates Poems. Below are the most popular long Dissipates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dissipates poems by poem length and keyword.
Desperation creeps stealthily, into a disillusioned mind
Unanswered questions paralyzes, leaving one frozen in time
Tsunami waves of grief pound away, at the sad and troubled heart
Sorrow uniting with pain wrestling, pinning down hope from the start.
But,
A glimmer of hope shines bright, conquering sorrow and grief
Like a lighthouse, a beacon in the dark, to distant sailors relief
A faint response to a distressing SOS, in a time of stormy seas
God answers our great questions, responding to fervent pleas
Truth dissipates the haze of lies, that leave one dazed and confused
Shining through the fog of deception, we see hope, if we so choose
Drawing closer to the light of God's love, that we see in the distance
Hope rises anew, conquers doubt, sorrow then relinquishes resistance.
When we perceive of God's great love, it gives us hope and direction
Living with hope is an anchor sure, to our mental faculties, a protection
Hope now renewed, leads to faith, finally joy can appear on your face
The countenance shines, living in hope, grief now having been replaced.
John Derek Hamilton November 28,2015
You don’t have to put on your red light.
You don’t have to put on your red light.
You don’t have to put on your red light.
You don’t have to put on your red light.
Red light
Red light
Red light
My speech can’t be cut off.
It Does not come for free; it bears a cost.
I walked the beat around the block.
Stood toe to toe with the toothed clock.
I know where my bones grow.
In fields of poppies row upon row
I fought my battles and wore my scars.
Felt the earth rattle.
Hummed to stars
Close the lamp.
Your face is damp.
This is your awakening.
You’ve sacrificed your final chance.
I won’t wait for an empty heart.
That only tears love apart.
I won’t hold on to grief.
Like a talisman
Its only segregation
Dressed as protection
I won’t be preserved in stasis.
like a woman in plastic
only served when you crave.
comfort food like mom used to make.
I am not your nostalgic taste.
Of your past mistakes
Before they baked, in reflective light
Don’t touch me.
stripped of my mylar coating
My brain, stutters, spits, sprawls
I make my crow call.
You fed me relics.
That turned to rot
I grew orchards in the paved over parking lot.
With respect
I swing on the tire, hanging from the limbs of reincarnation.
I play games with dream sprites.
And I walk the fields of my labor.
I didn’t need someone to die for my sins.
I only absolved myself of the misery within
I cleansed my soul with my own toil.
Digging in soil for the roots of my grief
To pull the weeds from the dirt.
I rolled over in my grave, and I watched the planets align.
A smile came to my face.
And I found my place.
My grace, I sigh.
I walked the Manic streets at night
I turned on the red light
I was looking for a man dressed in valor
badges of honor decorate his broken chest
Rib cage cracked in two
By the worlds melancholic tune,
But still sings like an angel in a state of unrest
Roxanne cries as the red light dies,
Dissipates with the clouds of rain.
Droplets of lifeblood anointing pain
LOOK MORE, SEE LESS
"The more you look the less you see":
Make a big deal about the little things,
They matter the most as dynamite,
But make no such hullabaloo
about the big things that dissipates energy
And becloud your vantage point.
Look more, see less!
"The more you look the less you see":
The more you look for the meaning of life,
the less you see around
and indeliberately miss the small things
which will become the only good things
you'll remember later in life.
"The more you look the less you see":
Don't look for the utmost,
look at all the small moments,
not life's cacophonous discordant distractions
Try to be happy for the small things,
deep conversations and good friends.
Acknowledging small things in life,
It's a big deal and healthy perspective.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright© October 30th, 2021.
Grown Before Growing Up
Saturday is a magic evening as the young kids get to stay up late,
its also the teenage romantic evening with lots of double dates.
So fast to grow up are we never too little never too late,
the one thing in life I miss the most, being a kid was just great.
Now theirs so many responsibilities I always have a full plate,
everyday everywhere in such a hurry, God forbid if you are late.
Forever trying to build something but unhappiness is all you create,
Your money dissipates into nothing, 20% to federal, 10% to state.
Not to mention all the other bills piled on the counter where they accumulate,
all the stress caused by financial things just turns into pure unadultered hate.
Oh look Hunny you yell happily we just got that $25 dollar rebate,
Now you see what I mean so don't you agree being a kid was just great?
bmdavey@
02/08/16
In this verse you will find my love story, where the ocean feels like home. We met when the horror movie, “The Fog,” was at the theater. I have also used imagery from “Peter Pan.”
FIND ME THEN
Find me then, where history repeats —
your sure smile trustfully pulls me in!
I boldly sit amidst bullrushes —
the pounding of a crocodile heart!
Find me then, where passion rolls me o’er,
great adventure framed, by wild waters.
The shallow tick of time scares me so!
As the fog dissipates, find me then…
6/11/2020
REPEAT THE PHRASE Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
8 lines/9 syllables each line/repeating phrase
Used repeating phrase and title: Find me then
Checked syllable count with howmanysyllables.com
nothing spoils this surface view ~ see me
crave attention, gift empty touch
tonal mask veils flaws and vices
face alter ego and kneel
to feed the shallow shadow that circles
~ around gossamer tears of the grieving moon,
as silenced streaks of tongue-twisted lines,
undress a puddle of poisoned stars
pull force imperceptible, attraction
lost in blissful contemplation
comatose until that last equation
gravitational persuasion creating longing
but will the lake that flows with fears
thaw words tangled in golden chains?
for I’ve drowned in liquified lies,
drawing perfection from imperfect reflections
delve to the depths of my spun world
peripheral interference dissipates in darkness
only requirement is carved version of self
that steadies my hand and drags me in
sinking beneath Narcissus's polluted undertow
tainted oxygen leaves my expanding lungs
hitting jagged rocks, spoiled skin shreds,
exposing a forgotten empath ~ salvation rises
We Are One
My friends,
we need to find some way,
to be more like family.
We need to come together,
regardless of our differences,
as evil is among us.
It was small,
and now it has grown.
It continues daily in our lives.
It thrives... now with its new station
given place among the claimed.
Mothers call your sons home.
Call your daughters too.
Gather them together under your roof,
kneel and pray.
Fathers, head of house...
Be who you are supposed to be.
Read your bibles,
keep your family in the word of God.
The darkness will be driven out,
if we but shout the Lord's name.
It can not stand to hear the truth,
of its own demise.
That it is... nothing... in the Light,
and the darkness,
dissipates into emptiness
when forced to stand
within the bright, perfect rays.
What matters young or old,
color of your skin, or the heart within?
Choose who the true enemy really is,
and know that you have been given
the gift of discernment in that action.
Pray.
she roams through the ether with uncontained purpose
she listens as a mother would for the sound of her new born waking
swirling winds of strife begin to shudder her consciousness
she surrenders to the pleading of a salty meditation
a murky grey eclipse of self
a breathless weight of vacant thought
she proposes a gift from deep within her sense
the self-inflicted adversary emerges
he covets, masked in pride and intention
her sucklings eagerly guzzle the curd of vanity
sadly, she guides them towards the abyss chosen
she is left with residue of the delusion
she cradles them back to safe slumber
they remember not
the whisper of hope dissipates in rejection at her feet
her tide must return alone
she will be back for her children another day
Under the heavy and ash-gray wing of the evening,
In the melancholic waltz of memories awakened in rains,
Through the night stretching its hand like an old bell-ringer,
Ringing the bell of departure and appearing desolate in the mirror.
A veil of sadness weaves the starry vault above,
Where the moon, in silence, watches over mortal frailties,
On this fertile earth, yes, once it was fertile,
The echo of steps disintegrates the soil in strangers and wanderers, fatefully.
Oh, sister in destiny, proud land of heroes and poets,
Now you are the stage of a tragic act divided into many separations,
The brotherhood that was said to unite us, quietly dissipates,
Oh, mother, my homeland, how we sold our hopes for silver!
The air is laden with a heavy burden of heavenly pallor,
From the fields where wheat grain by grain whispered songs to the sun,
No longer pours gold, but only regrets, thoughts that fade,
In all we try to have, the shadow of the nameless ones lingers, who.
We live, simple people, with broken nature and torn souls,
Under the sign of signatures on forgotten and voiceless papers,
We struggle between walls of indifference, singing only in the boundless,
While life drains from us, vomiting the poison of bitterness.
Peacemakers of sweet whispers, now hoarse in pain,
Apologize for an unjust curse that can no longer be washed away,
A nation born from dreams and fierce struggle, slowly fades under humiliation,
As if the ancestors were only ghosts in the heavy history.
Mad poet, who dares to write in verses an elegy,
When our house is a game, a bet lost in our own room,
Now, even the dead in stones bow in a silent prayer,
For Romania that wears the gray coat of helplessness and payment.
But do you hear the bell that separates time from immortality?
A prelude to what is to come, over everything that once crackled,
It's the evening of the last ball, where our steps are counted in stars,
From dawn, we will be only Romanians from everywhere, in an endless song of regret.
Perhaps, tomorrow – it will be desolate here, silence will speak more clearly,
And we, with hearts in chains, will start a bittersweet exile,
Farewell, lost brothers in the relentless wheel's motion,
Goodbye, motherland, I throw you a last kiss, in the wind, a farewell.
From a dark corner of my being, I finally free myself from a deepened black hole,
I feel like I've been stuck there for an eternity, immersed in this accumulated misery,
Yet I emerged with courage, even though the path was rough and full of stumbles,
I count my days on the calendar, checking the passage of time with growing impatience,
Now I'm on a dizzying fast track, heading to where I belong,
Home, a place where everyone knows my name,
People who greet me every morning with a smile, making me forget the pain,
No need to speak, for they read my feelings on my face.
I left my city for a race of life, chasing something that doesn't belong to me,
I thought the world would embrace a strange and manic person like me,
I planned to start a new life, but every step was through the mud,
I was a giant in my city, but I became a mere pawn,
I was an organized man, but now I'm chaos in motion.
It's said you only miss the road when you truly miss home,
And I believe it's true, for I know my adoration for my city when I'm away,
My hope dissipates, just like the things in my luggage,
So, I head home to fill the void left in my soul.
In the flow of my consciousness, every thought is a step toward the familiar light of the beloved place,
And in the melancholy of this journey, I find my truth and peace,
Because home is not just a place, it's a deep feeling, a regained balance.