Long Distorted Poems
Long Distorted Poems. Below are the most popular long Distorted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Distorted poems by poem length and keyword.
Haunting me, daunting me, & f--king taunting me
Saying that you & I will never, ever again be
I'm just supposedly wasting my time on you - so cut the f--king strings
Those strings held you & I like a kevlar-lined, kryptonite-chained, indestructible trampoline
These voices - they keep stalking me - bouncing off these walls
Ricocheting & reverberating through my stubborn brain
The distorted voices, the screams & the tortures
Are disintegrating & decomposing the very fibres of my being
If you're not here - they're louder, crueler, & so much more bloody mean
The overwhelming, over-analytic, & overly-dramatic contradicting words echoing inside my confused & exhausted brain
It casts an iron shock through me - begging me to forget your memory
Just a parasidic worm taking up hostage inside me
Yet still my stomach butterfly-flips at the instant drop-dead, dreamy, hypnotic, serendipitous disposition of your gorgeousness - teasing me - & is desiring & daring me to resign from this current chapter of mine
It begs me to leave this raw sewage behind - right where it will ing stay
It eerily beckons & bribes me to drink with you - toasting to a long overdue #2
So with a tall glass of good 'ol Sandman - I'll toast to our rekindling for the second time..,
An ogre is seldom awakened by poetic lines
but he shakes his fists trying to slander others.
I laugh at his desperate attempts at writing.
Delighting in his flawed efforts at metaphors.
On all fours this ogre creeps around like a spider
Oh what distorted webs he dares to weave...
when he deceives those who do not know
his penchant for whining and absurd cries of wolf.
He aspires to climb to the peak of a mountain
but fails miserably with each witless haiku.
Do not fear in the false bravado of the daft beast,
but feast on his raves as he digs his own grave.
Imagery is lost among his gibberish blabber...
a rather nondescript description of such bluster.
His script is not clever, thought he thinks it is so.
He doesn't scare me or those who know... whatever
Inanity is the work of such a bootlicking fool...
a tool who yammers thinking he impresses others,
but a jester dances for those who seek a false throne.
Does that ring with a piffle of drivel to anyone but me?
Knowing him, feelings
Blurred with gentle, light
Laughing hues of silent beauty
Whispering, stirring, breathing
Richest joys, tantalizing
Imaginations, alive like the sun
Just as stunning in the dawn
As before the moon touched
My heart, my thoughts
Knowing him, blessings
Distorted by fantasies, wonders
Soft and enchanting like stardust
Psalms, inspiring truth
Poured from hearts who remember
Sensitive, tender – soothing
Away the darkness, the night
Erasing the moments of heartfelt
Kindness, intimate touch, a kiss
Thriving like the rivers of grace
Inspiring praise, adoration
Knowing him, Déjà vu
History, remembering, yet
It is within, a still life
Focusing on the music, prayers
Hushing the wind, the stars
With a sensitive that is trembling
Prosperous as peace in wartime,
Abiding on the spirit who hears
Hope in the music, notes
Paradise rising in the silence, alive
With beauty beyond conviction
Beauty so alive it is free
To color life in smiles,
Stir hopes to mingled joy
Fulfillment, enchanting, alive
Knowing him, reality
Pretending, make-believe
History praying
For the moments who know
This is light, this is love
This is the glory sent from above
To the heart, the soul
Who knows, with him
There is more, so much more
It could be, friend – the best
Beginning, the foundation
For every promise, creation’s
Insight into the darkness,
The wonder of a life who sees
Clearly, for the first time –
In the stillness, there is brilliance
Rising from the mist, hushing
Every doubt with the knowing
The blessing, bestowing
Grace upon grace, loving
Like there is no when or why
Only the hope that relies on him,
The father of love, the One
Who has already been, will be again
The One who makes me see
Beyond the future, into time without end
Knowing him, Déjà vu
Isn’t as risky as never feeling
The touch of a relationship
That feels like grace, whispering gently
I am that presence which cannot be named,
walking without a broken stride
no place for me to run or hide
faced all that tried to hinder me
now my voice make the devil flee
I always loved from a place of truth
releasing the pain my soul full of youth
loving and accepting myself as a whole
feeding and nourishing my hungry soul
fasting praying learning a new way in life
has set me apart from those of spiritual strife
lies manipulations deceptions fooled them all
on the path trusting myself answering the call
awakening to see me with their unveiled eyes
wondering how I did it now they become spies
distorted reputation or image will never stop me
healed from trauma and pain is the reason I'm free
Each of us live for the moment
As none are promised time
Not knowing which is our last
We make choices with that in mind
In life we bathe in beauty
Often to drown in sorrow
Paying the price with our tears
From troubles earned and borrowed
Immensely exaggerated caricatures
Overthought problems become distorted
Examining both sides of an issue
Inclinations can be easily supported
Of all of the powers we're given
Choice being the most distinct
Overthinking a problem is time wasted
Be objective but succinct
Every choice will lead to another
But our time quickly remits
The objective is to have a lot of fun
And leave little time to regret it
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
HOW CAN I if you don't know me, SAY IT AGAIN-
O’ daunted unmerciful man;
Mankind humanity not so kind;
Filthy flesh of sinfulness;
One who dances with demons and kiss;
How can you love me
if you don't know me
just believe just receive me
how can you comfort me
when I am in misery
come on to me come to me
Distance brother of ill report;
Follower of distorted pleasures short;
Be it wrong never right;
Kisses evil, good night;
How can you love me
if you don't know me
just believe just receive me
how can you comfort me
when I am in misery
come on to me come to me
freely I Love In Spite of Ourselves
And in our sinful and hateful ways
We now resounding praise
I love my fellow man
if you don't know me
just believe just receive me
how can you comfort me
when I am in misery
come on to me come to me
Let’s now channel God
The great ALL I AM
See He to says
if you don't know me
just believe just receive me
how can you comfort me
when I am in misery
come on to me come to me
I say it again
if you don't know me
just believe just receive me
how can you comfort me
when I am in misery
come on to me come to me
hallelujah, Say it Again,
Say it again
5/6/21
Say It Again' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
It feels like screaming underwater. Like I opened my chest, and handed you my lungs. You told me they weren't real. Like I am sitting in a room with the windows shut. Everyone smiling, nodding, laughing, while I am on fire, but nobody smells the smoke. I say what I think, and it echoes back distorted. It is like I spoke in a language that no one bothered to learn. I tried to explain. Sometimes they smile politely like I am a todler holding a broken stick and calling it art. Like I am being dramatic. Like I just need to calm down. It is not about being loud. It is not about being right. It is about being seen. It is about knowing that someone, just one person, gets it. When no one agrees, it is not just disagreement. It is isolation. It is them building a fence between us. Pretending I am choosing to stand on the other side. I did not choose this. I am just here. Holding my truth in both hands like it is fragile, and ugly, and honest. Watching everyone pretend it does not matter.
A seamless sphere of perfect shape
no outlines of troubled nations
no borders confining an outbreak
it peers not into the future but in
every turn with every angle it
shows the present A perfect
momentary capture of anything
that falls into its orbit not trapped
really but held somehow until
the moment is broken when the
captive steps or flies away
and once again the globe returns to
its passive state this globe of no
remorse this globe of no anger
or death offers not itself as any
instrument of fate but in one
glance on its surface a human
can see right into the reflected
eyes distorted and all
White marble stones
Stand proud in the sun
To remember my colleagues
The heroic fallen ones
Many a battle
Many a campaign
Some did return
For some never the same
On the green grass i stand
Blue sky above
The souls of my comrade's
Like peaceful sitting doves
The name on this stone
Reminds me of the day
My best friend and brother
Was taken away
An offensive was launched
Brothers at war
Bunker to take
At the top of a tor
Smoke screen exhausts the view to the hill
As we wind our way through
Zipping bullets, blood spill
Noises of lead, as they rip through the flesh
As we hit the barbed wire
Now a scarlet stained mesh
Objective in sight as we approach our aim
As i hear the groan of the injured
Many dead and maimed
Grenade pin pulled
Bunker window we lob
Hands sweating
How many lives will we rob
Explosion flash with shouts of pain
As the smoke lifts on this bloody terrain
We enter the Bunker
To witness our task
The enemy lie distorted
Faces grimace, death mask
I turn to my brother, to signal its safe
As a shot rings out, in this theatre place
He stands still for a moment
Eyes glazing and cold
The death of my sibling
At 19 years old
As i open my eyes, and turn to my son
I see what i had, as he holds my grandson
Family values, love and a bond
As i remember my brother
Of whom, i was so fond
I proudly walk past, salute as i go
The white stones standing proud
Peaceful doves in a row
I find my self fortunate to stand here and tell
To talk of my brother, and the fallen as well
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
Within prismed images I was captured
along with twilight as it tinted the sky.
We were ensnared during a power struggle
at the hour when sunlight wrestled the moon.
Neither wanted to vacate the celestial throne.
But I was the one fighting hardest to survive
when beveled tongues along mirrored edges
roared at me in the wilderness of life's jungle.
Voices were raised that sounded vaguely familiar.
The bitterness echoed and surrounded me.
I was blinded by distorted light from all directions.
Hunted like prey in the wilds,
staying alive proved to be a fractious task.
But fracturing seemed to be my only way out.
I broke down the walls of the reflective maze
and walked over dagger blades of broken shards.
Mirrors that are not hung never pose a threat.