Long Distorts Poems
Long Distorts Poems. Below are the most popular long Distorts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Distorts poems by poem length and keyword.
Since she died, I have to build
a makeshift funeral pyre
to burn up all the secrets told
her letters lit afire
I read them through before I do
the funny, sweet and shocking
things she shared when we were kids
vicious flames now mocking
Their heat distorts my vision
with a wavering in the air
as I quell my indecision
and try hard not to care
Though it hurts, I cannot hold
on to what would become twisted
misunderstanding things she told
of what her life consisted
So many clever bits and pieces
of lovely sisterhood
slow the savory memory releases
things unspoken yet understood
Now tearing into tiny fragments
salvaging what I can
I burn and die a little as I
throw them in the can
For on this makeshift funeral pyre
I offer my sacrifice
and 'though I know- it's loyal and true
I feel I'm losing her twice
Like vicious beast, the blazing flames
are licking, burning with poison tongue
eating memories accumulated
when my heart was free and young
A smoldering within my soul
now singed, and seared, and scorched
feeling somehow less than whole
my heart a wasteland, barren torched
War, it isn’t what it used to be
it never was.
Memories are not preserved by history
merely edited, distorted, diminished.
War, it isn’t what they wish it to be.
Intimidation edits objections, distorts reality and illusion
and diminishes objectivity
the way a lion edits a herd of gazelle
the way a flawed mirror distorts reflection
the way baldness diminishes hair.
The effect becomes the cause.
Lives become resources that are squandered and depleted
to attain the higher good
of a privileged few.
Gallant and heroic efforts are recorded in books
a self-ingratiating pandering to the resources,
the way large game animal heads are mounted
and displayed high on the wall of an exclusive club.
Nations and cultures are liberated from their resources
and their liberty.
War is true in the sense that it creates facts.
Written: June 26, 2023
______________________________________________________________
In the realm of creation, where forces collide,
There is a phenomenon that cannot hide.
Shrinkage, a word that holds power untold,
Affects all things, both young and old.
In the dance of shrinkage, cracks appear.
Random patterns, spreading fear.
As materials contract, their strength is tested.
And in their wake, a trail of cracks is manifested.
Skipping lading, a delicate art,
To prevent shrinkage from tearing things apart.
With careful precision, we peen the weld.
Melting the metal and ensuring it's held.
But alas, shrinkage cannot be tamed.
Even in old age, memory is maimed.
Brain Shrinkage, a tragic tale,
Where memories fade and thoughts derail.
As I grow older, I fear the loss.
The shrinking of my mind at such a cost
But in this dance, there may be hope.
To slow the shrinkage, and avail me to cope.
Warpage, a consequence of shrinkage might,
Bends and distorts a worrisome sight.
But with knowledge and skill, we can prevail.
Strengthening our creations and making them avail.
Weight is a factor. In the dance of shrinkage, it plays a role.
Adding pressure, taking its toll.
But with careful consideration, we can find
A balance where strength and weight align.
Shrinkage, a force that cannot be denied,
But with knowledge and skill, we can confide.
In the realm of creation, we must embrace
The dance of shrinkage with grace
So let us not fear the cracks that appear.
In their wake, fresh paths may be clear.
And with each intervene the dance of shrinkage, we learn:
To adapt and grow, to find recent ways to yearn.
Jesus died as soon as he was laid into his manger
Joseph bereft and torn embraced Mary who wept
the cradle of Christianity formed a wicked cross
Buddha sent condolences and Shiva delivered
a promise to question the word of sacred scripture
unperturbed humanity crusaded from pillar to post
on one day in lost paradise Pagans donated a tree
of pre-modern life hailed wise witches and raised
the stakes by a river of tearful myths as they exchanged
Christ for a harbinger of mankind as we came to know
only a few more steps past trivia by the roadside now
we indulge in delusion to have the cake that we eat
chocolate wrappers crackle and hollow crackers ignite
opulence and decadence while online shopping proceeds
distorts the meaning of sharing and dishes out money
play stations compute an epitome of a mercurial feast
but all seems to be well because New Year offers sales
and we trade all those unwanted gifts for similar tosh
once the carols subside and the jingle bells tune out
drums of retreat sound into Self introspection and doubt
a thorny crown of redemption glimpses into the light
the scramble of monopoly and monotony’s lucid allure
makes me dig in my shed for removing the splinters
like a bull’s eye full of darts that misses its targets
06th December 2020
In the quiet, darkened corners of the mind/
Where shadows stretch and twist, emotions bind/
Lies a land where peace is hard to find/
Admist the chaos, stress leaves us blind/
Psychosis weaves it's tale of fear and doubt/
Illusions bloom, and reasons fade out/
The world distorts, perceptions fall askew/
A fragile grip on reality breaks through/
Voices whisper secrets in the night/
Haunting dreams take away the light/
Innocent thoughts become monstrous and cruel/
And reason slips away, like water from a pool/
Stress, restless, tightens it's fierce embrace/
Driving heart and mind to frantic pace/
Seizures strike, like lightning in the storm/
A body's plead for peace, a soul's reform/
The breath catches, gasping, panic fills the air/
The struggle, gasping, drowning in despair/
Yet heartbeat steady, blood pressure remains/
A mystery that defies the body's claim/
Admist the tumult, seek the gentle touch/
Of understanding hearts that offer much/
For in the sharing, healing can begin/
And in the darkness, light will surely win/
So to my doctor, these words now impart/
May empathy and care guide their way/
To help find solace, and brighter days/
Pooch - Fable
My tail still wags
though slow o'er time
both eyes sink low
equal ears that droop
A grunt is heard
a bowl-filled treats
later a door opens
a dying day's light
Slam sounds behind me
many souls in passing
tree shadows now grow
mumbling distorts the calm
My wags made brief
as faces turn away
harsh scolds at me
tail stills body shivers
Rebukes back to mumbles
home as door slams
treats gone lapping water
a corner waits for me
Servile since my birth
oldest puppy on earth
I've long shook Heaven's gate
now I dream and wait...
"When I die,
will he cry?"
2021 February 12
*3rd Place*
Fabled Musings
~~Joseph May
Quote No.1
“As you live deeper in the heart~
The mirror gets clearer and cleaner.”
_Quote by Rumi
Oh God,
You have created me
In your image and likeness-
The mirror of your love.
What do you see
When you gaze upon me?
Your image and likeness?
Or just a hazy semblance
Dulled by the sticky film that forms
On a mirror left unattended?
Your image is surely there, Lord.
Teach me, I pray,
To faithfully cleanse away that film
Which obscures the clarity of you-
Those everyday pollutants
That distorts your reflection-
So that, what you are
And what you see in me,
Are clearly, one.
The hymns bend backward, curved by mass,
Where light itself cannot surpass.
No chapel stands, no bell is rung,
Just gravity’s unending tongue.
The scriptures float, unpinned by law,
Their ink consumed in cosmic jaws.
A preacher prays, but time distorts—
His voice is trapped in falling thoughts.
What god survives such dark collapse?
What faith can cross event’s last lapse?
The soul’s equation must be clear:
No heaven lies beyond this sphere.
Yet still, within that silent maw,
A question stirs the minds in awe:
Does meaning stretch where matter ends,
Or fall, like light, as space-time bends?
And is belief the last to die,
Or just the urge to ask—and try?
I've severed my conscious from the backplates of my brain. I’ve pleated vine and cord through the cracks of my rib, bedsores spreading across my ever-paling appearance. I haven't left this hole in weeks.
I get nauseous at my own proof of life, conviction, correction of every flaw flowing out the gaps in my crooked mouth. I let insecurity envelop me, so I hide. I hibernate through nightfall and shorter sunshine. I paint powder over blemishes and broken bones. I crave to be coddled in frozen droplets and sheer fabrics that cool my skin; But I can't bear to be draped in anything but harsh winter coats and the pudge that distorts my figure.
Maybe, I'm addicted to hatred. A taste so strong I can only starve it out of my system - though I'd drown in the taste of every regret I've shoved down. Every loss of control is sharp at the end, blackening my ivories and souring my savory-sweet till I'm all overt ailment and I can't salt the snow that strikes me.
Over time, I've been pricked and prodded. What is now only winter breath replacing empty calories down my throat. What was once soft snowfall is now avalanche, and I can't bring myself to do anything but lay down and freeze.
- expressing buddhist psychology with the aid of quotes -
'...we are doomed not to know the truth exactly
....(dainin katagri)'
'...new meaning may...be truthfully added,
provided the mind ascend to a more
enveloping point of view.........(william james)'
'....who am i....in the midst of this thought traffic
....(rumi)
'....the smallest particle of time...this is it....
the next instant, it is not so....(shunryu suzuki)
'...a feeling takes hold of...one side of your being
and so distorts you................(rainer maria rilke)
'...kamma is that by which creatures do or act
....(ledi sayadaw)
'....to get enlightened....keep giving up....sense
of the world....that it come to us on its own terms
....(stephen mitchell)
stan sand