Long Distress Poems
Long Distress Poems. Below are the most popular long Distress by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Distress poems by poem length and keyword.
You were there for me
When I couldn’t seem to believe
That I would ever feel OK
Like I deserved to see a new day
You were there for me
When my heart was aching
Shadows of doubt shaded my hope
With worry, fear and discouragement
You were there for me
When I couldn’t let go of the pain
Sure that I would always be filled
With dread, darkness and despair
You were there for me
When my soul was barely surviving
Heartache seemed to survive even
The very best feelings of kindness
You were there for me
When I couldn’t stop crying
Through the sorrow and regret
You hugged away the distress
You were there for me
When my feelings were wounded
Even blue seemed gray to me
And nothing on earth seemed sure
You were there for me
When I couldn’t let anyone see my heart
It felt as if I struggled just to hope
For a moment without pain or doubt
You were there for me
When my life was filled with shame
Sadness was larger than anything
And I couldn’t find a way to even pray
You were there for me
When I couldn’t stop thinking of the hurt
And nothing brought me pleasure or hope
Yet, you reminded me that I was loved!
You were there for me
And I need to thank you for your love
It gave me the second chance to know
That each new day brings a new musing
On the light that illuminates God’s love
The gift that keeps giving me more reasons
To count my blessings – and you are always counted!
Summer resplendent sun glowing
in the photosynthesis of viridescent grass.
Waving blades like long fingers flowing,
the sudden sighing gusts come and pass.
The field lives palpable in the anamnesis.
I step through the Queen Anne’s lace,
I lay down on dense turf, where distress decreases,
Sun of repose wrings out pain, leaving no trace.
The field uncut, surrounded by trees,
shooshing wind mixes only with the hum of bees.
Lazy, balmy, timeless afternoon, grasshoppers leap.
Musty grass inhaled. I doze and fall asleep.
The field dandelions release seeds like cotton
floating on nuzzling breeze, landing, then begotten.
Burrowing moles hunt earthworms under soil.
Nests and mounds, why do ants tirelessly toil?
Toad hops by, pausing, inspecting for insects.
Sioux Nation meadowlarks sing of friendship
from the nearby woodland intersects.
Love by dissolving into field, my ritual worship.
At cool dusk, I awaken to cricket chitter.
Night’s canopy of cosmos is without dimension,
measureless. I am free and joyous in star glitter.
I merge with field habitat, awakening all sensations.
Published: Pick Me Up Poetry 10/22
Accepted for Publication, 11/2023: PoetrySoup Anthology Vol. III
Reflections on the Important Things
I long for thy truant inspiration,
O Muse! (I feel thine absence for too long.).
Restore to me the gift of creation
once more,—that I may sing a new, gay song.
Reappear soon to my great elation,
O Muse! For thou canst never do me wrong,
or be the cause of my dislocation:
upon thy return my distress won't prolong.
On thine arrival, this crippling disrepair
of my Parnassus shall give up its sway,
and the end of my creative despair
will arrive on this most auspicious day
(like spring that welcomes existence everywhere),
when this new sonnet comes to life this way.
Stimulating ideas pop into your head
You need a pen…you need a piece of lined paper
It looks like you’re outtah luck…no wonder you’re drowning in dread
You need a shoulder to lie your head down for a moment’s rest…
You need a helper…to aid you while you struggle emotionally…
I’m not trying to irritate you purposely
Try with all your might…try your best
To stay optimistic and fervent
I believe that you’ll pass the test
Be upbeat, kindhearted and jubilant
I appreciate the words you wrote on my notebook…
Sometimes, I feel like leftovers left on the counter…
I’m a rotten mess – you’re leaving me as if I’m an uninteresting book
Sometimes, I feel like a coward – I don’t mean to bother…
But, you’re like no other . . .
You’re like a mat – you’re constantly stepped on…
I’m like YOUR unwanted tool –
I stepped on you and
Pushed your buttons
I accused you of being the fool
When, in fact, I’m the fool by your side…
You’re drifting…pushing me aside…
I’m writing words of truth though –
Expressing how much I’m fond of you
I esteem your presence
Glowing with glee
At times, you do say things without thinking
I’m the god of distress –
You’re leaving me breathless
Cutting me down like I’m some decaying tree
You don’t see how much you make me…
Guilty for your crimes
Taking the blame about the hundredth time
At times, I feel that I’m awkward when I’m around you
You’re like a backpack – you carry everyone’s weight…
You’re like a sponge – soaking in our stress
I’m a distraction to you – you’re wasting valuable time…but don’t hesitate
I’m writing words of self-centered feelings – logic doesn’t exist…
But these feelings aren’t as bad as committing a crime
These feelings come and go – I just had to confess
I didn’t mean to screw up your progress…
Hey, if you need a few sheets of paper to right on,
Use me like a notebook instead…and write with all your might
It seems as if you read me…like a book that drags on and on
Use me as your tool of relaxation… and read me all night
When you wrote those words on my notebook…
It made my day…you’re such a delight
Like reading a fascinating, classic book
Send down Your blessings, dear Lord
Allow me to feel Your kindness and love
The mercy that comes from Your Son
Grace so alive it feels like I’ve broken free
Of the sins, the flaws, the darkness
That penetrates my spirit with pain, anger
And all of the things that I wish to leave
Behind me, in the past where I used to be
Send down Your blessings, dear Father
Cause me to know You better with each miracle
Blessings of love so warm I feel the affection
Tenderness like a hope that colors the heart
In hues of insight and delight, beauty so wise
It pours out joy and peace, feelings that believe
Only the Son and His grace can free the soul
From the distress that brings doubt and depression
Dread that beckons hearts to feel the anguish
Of knowing that trouble is always there, haunting
With its never-ending grief, its pang of misery
Send down Your blessings, dear God
Remind me that You are there, alive
Willing to give me a second chance, a new life
Born out of the love that Jesus taught us to know
With His grace and His wonder, His courage
All the songs of a heart who gives unconditionally
With a purity, a promise that is more sure
Than the love that falls all over with its truth
When we are brought to our knees
At the foot of the cross where we can see
Love that brings true peace, true belief
Truth that sounds like strength and relief
Love that is alive in the soul who believes
Jesus is the answer to every prayer we breath
Thanks to wix for the photo... where my website is: Regina McIntosh
LUCY - The ADVICE
Remember this:
From boys up to men, it’s always the same
Your heart gets broken …to them it’s a game.
Loving and sweetness when first you begin
Claiming ‘you don’t care’, they make you give in
You must be patient, you must make them wait
Two weeks or two months, YOU control the date!
If you don’t do this, here’s what to expect…
They’ll offer ‘false love’, and show no respect!
Soon there’s an inkling of a love in distress
You vainly cling on ….till you’re all in a mess!
The rarer the gem - the harder to get…
The harder to get - the higher the value…
The higher the value - the more the respect…
The more the respect - the rarer the gem!
Remember this:
From boys up to men, it’s always the same…
They want a ‘rare’ gem…. or else it’s a game!
(The Fg 81.5.8)
Blessed with friends* who love me as I am
I thank God for them… precious treasures indeed
Whose compassion ways’ worth enrich my soul graciously
Along with their faithfulness --- priceless --- so dearly valuable.
Bracing me upon their supportive and cheerful spirit,
They enable me to do my best joyously for the Lord’s glory;
Propping, propelling and pushing me to prevail midst failures’ distress
Through their faith-driven prayer and servant heart-fueled testimony.
In the Poetry Soup, I’m privileged to enjoy fellow-poets’ friendship
With commendations midst hearty comments, wondrously inspiring
Though miles away, their presence is felt around warm bliss
Helping me become the poet God wants me to be!
*Proverbs 18:24 A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.
June 14, 2018
9th place, "Qualities You Admire in Friends" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire; judged on 6/26/2018.
Death-like phantom, pathos, so dusk dark, seems to be calling,
Though not dry, like autumn leaves, in dreams, I feel like falling;
Where do all these illusions, like morning mushrooms, spring from?
Where do illnesses, like termites in weaker wood, fast germ?
Pathos peeps from the soul, like a mouse from a filthy hole,
Scrolls, like krait, bites, pouring within pure poison bowl;
Though not willing, owing impulse, I get so fast succumb,
Like a knave, forgotten his true self, I go madly numb.
Pathos casts my directions like the rudder in a ship,
From optimism to pessimism it changes fast the trip;
Finding feeble before the goals like Parkinson it shakes,
Like a kite whose thread is broken, it falls and licks dust flakes.
Anguish aggravates pathos; causing pains anonymous,
Humanity and the surroundings increase emptiness;
Fear, distress, panic... all get imported by the same boat,
Life turns into a den of devils of deviant gloat...
Pathos, as though fallen in a deep well, seeks sympathy,
Pity, anger, honey-flowing words, and wants empathy;
Positive thinking, prayerful living, and divine depth,
Pave the way to pass from pathos to existential breadth!
25 September 2021
''P'' Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Wonder not
if my thoughts are thrilled and twisted
daily and deeply by the albums of your ways,
I succumb severely to the impulse of imminent interplay
so dumb with joy, grateful for the fusion of our fevers,
I've never let you leave my mind,
you haven't finished eating your portion of my heart,
there is so much more for you, still in my chest, on my eyes,
I am your rare happiness,
that bare beast of a woman's best distress,
trigger your storm sirens with a single drop of Goodbye,
serve you with the most sensational sadness,
replenish your youth with an admiration that won't die,
knowing that I am not a makeshift man, nor a loyalty within a lie,
that I'll punish your pulse with peppered pleasure
because I can, because I must,
pull your hair just to hear those breaths beg for big flares,
treat the smooth and sweet lascerations of love's lament
butterfly cut into the surface of a girl's search for sincerity,
we get intoxicated on performance of personality,
buzzed beautifully from believing in the addiction of adoration's affliction,
We know we can handle one another's hurt
as warriors bleed hard because they sell themselves the sacrafice,
that we can process history with humor by breaking the shame of blame,
synthesize epiphany with sympathy to nourish symphonies of Divinity
we realize that intensity is the regal implement of our tournament,
I like it when you tell me the tough truths,
that you want to be loved for more than one reason,
that being respected in segments isn't enough,
that he will never be me,
that words can outlast the disappointment of distance,
that the world overwhelms you when you most expect,
that sometimes you'd rather be a heart attack
before being a pretty song or a favorite memory,
I understand your need for absolute affection, absolute attention,
lets allow our love to be confusing, dazzling, on the verge of villainy,
it isn't steady as a sleeping heart beat
or ready for celebration like a " gee wiz " graduation,
it is our Love, and its undefinably volatile and lovely,
Your cosmos gives a question that feeds one answer,
that love is ours, safe in the arms of Armageddon,
I remember the ember of our future
spazing on the hearth of fresh earth,
don't ever miss me Babe, just keep lovin me -
J.A.B.
Anguish comes to me in the night,
With deep sorrow, I always fight;
Tears sadly, I cannot repress,
Grief tormented, I must confess.
Why do I have to live this hell,
In sadness will I ever dwell;
My life is one full of unrest,
Grief tormented, I must confess.
Ever, will I leave this lament,
Let go, and live in the present;
In poems sorrow I express,
Grief tormented, I must confess.
In a lovely cyber-world lost,
And from poem to poem tossed;
I pen my weeping in excess,
Grief tormented, I must confess.
And in gentle hands my words fall,
Before I can fly, this girl must crawl;
Each kind word is a sweet caress,
Grief tormented, I must confess.
I stand talking to the long past,
Tombs call to me, haunting and vast;
In writing, I share my distress,
Grief tormented, I must confess.
_____________________
February 25, 2016
Poetry/Kyrielle/Grief Tormented
Copyright Protected, ID 16-761-560-0
All Rights Reserved, 2016, Constance La France