Long Disturbs Poems
Long Disturbs Poems. Below are the most popular long Disturbs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disturbs poems by poem length and keyword.
We lost a friend…he made his own life end…we had no time to prepare
News…hard to receive…harder to believe…that left us in despair.
Death disturbs me, it perturbs me, how it slashes like a knife
always lurking, coiling, smirking, ready to take a life.
Young or old, meek or bold, like a morbid game of chess
Poor or wealthy, sick or healthy, death takes us nonetheless.
No matter the season…sometimes without reason…from deaths clutches we can’t hide
It’s especially sad, it makes us mad…when death comes as a suicide.
Every day in the USA…suicides number 123
leaving friends and family to wonder…how did we blunder…what was it we didn’t see?
Who’s to blame, we sadly exclaim…we are dazed…confused…we’re stunned
We search our minds…how could we have been so blind….
was there more we could have done?
When he was blue, we wish he knew…on our strength he could have drawn
but it’s too late and now we bear the weight that someone we love is gone.
For the tragedy of his death, of his last breath, and why our tears are spilled
is not just that he’s passed…that he’s gone too fast…
but for the dreams he’s left unfilled.
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/talk-to-someone-now/
As god looked down to earth to observe
He was surprised and quite disappointed
In a low voice,He asked to himself
"Is this what I dreamed of?Is this what I wanted?"
The humans are not humans any more
Gadgets fast replacing their hearts
They move in a device that they have invented
It disturbs the beautiful nature as soon as it starts
Where are those green trees?
Where are those birds?
Where are those nice humans that I had created?
These are not the ones.These are just nerds.
They stay in buildings,they are stuck to machines
They drink false milk and feed the same to cats
They watch an idiot box and call it as 'fun'
Then to lose their fats,they walk on running mats!
Unnatural is their beauty
It's a result of operations and a variety of creams
I don't see my creations any more
I guess I will find them only in my dreams
No signs of love,No signs of humanity
They have forgotten themselves in the race of money
When will they realize the meaning of life?
When will they taste the sweetness of natural honey?
Gone are the times of music and paintings
The humans are not social anymore
They have killed my most beautiful creations
And still those idiots are hungry for more
Then to amend his own creations
He sprinkled the magical powder or love
He sent some pigeons to strengthen the effect
And poured divine water on greed's stove
Now it's upto us humans
Whether to be humans or be replaced by gadgets
It's time we wake up.It's time we realize.
It's time to spread love and save ourselves from inhuman targets!
I told the nurse
I swallowed a snake.
He charted: religious mania.
But I felt her—
three and a half turns
sleeping
just south of the back
of my clavicle.
I called her Vera
then,
full breath
pried me open.
Fire-rising,
slithering:
it was gospel
sliding
down my vertebrae—
a ladder
Jacob had forgotten—
yea and behold though
we came
back for it.
I couldn’t stop laughing.
Or crying.
Or saying
I saw light in the colorless
rooms
outside
understanding.
When I explained, again,
how god comes
in my root,
propels
herself through
my expanded
throat
chakra,
they were furious—
branded me
inpatient,
wrapped my wrists,
ordered more
Thorazine.
They don’t let me
sit cross-legged,
say my mantra
disturbs
the others.
Just between
you and me
this energy wall
crumbling, this crux
of second comings,
this fifth horseman—
is a woman re-forming
initiation:
an apocalypse
finally
worth the animal
salt-sweat
hump
it took to get it
going.
“Why can't we all just get along”
Rodney King once uttered these words
As current today as it was back then
Our “head in the sand” thinking, it disturbs
We're all just members of the human race
Why divide us up, us and them
Brothers that will meet our maker one day
What's so very important until then
In the overall scheme of earthly things
Only love should rise above all
Colour, language and religion all secondary
Co-existence must be installed
Maybe I'm just whistling into the wind
But if my small voice does make a difference
Then hear me loud and clear as I shout
To reject it is a display of ignorance
© Jack Ellison 2014
Sand only looked to alight,
find some alone-time in the muck
no fuss was meant, it is only a space
as big as a grain taken, escaping its identical
brethren of billions on the sea floor.
Oyster only opened his rigid
lips to rinse, to breathe the brine,
to move a snack through his labial palps
in private, when a tiny intruder, unwelcome,
unbidden, disturbs the digestion,
initiates the unintended consequence
of oyster's defensive reaction.
Called upon, mitigation arrives over time.
Nacre warriors, layer by layer, smooth
sand's edges to soothe oyster's irritation,
an effort that deafens new pleas from a grain
now only looking to go home.
In the dark-churned slime, desire
emerges as a luster in the mud, a dazzling
monster named Pearl, radiant and angry, hard
with longing to be unloosed from her mucous
roots. She sends dreams as currency of streaming
shimmers, to bolster her chances of freedom
from an endless, watery night.
Lured by the glimmer, human hands pry open
shy bivalve, tongue and lips slurp up the middle
like a salty kiss, until teeth accidental onto eager Pearl
warmed by the breath.
For the indiscretion she now sits pocketed in slacks
belonging to hands with plans to pierce her spine,
string her along, then hang her on another lover's neck—
stranger to sand and pearl, already grown
wayward in closeness, is a new desire that oyster
degrade on ocean's bottom, turn into sand and join them
on the choker.
A fall on the back with a fractured spine
Has ditched me for the rest of life to pine,
A wound that has turned to a window, wide,
A lens through which I can gaze far outside.
The wound pounds and pines at an acute pace,
Disturbs slumber and stamps grins on my face,
A barrier built of sad silent shard,
Leaving the feeble body bruised and blurred.
At first the whole wide world seemed far away,
Filtered through greyish shades of disarray,
Each twinkling, tinged with deep dreary darkness,
Each shadowed stretch of day sunk in sadness.
It felt like long endless nights I would stay
Chasing the veiled glooms of night time away,
Lying abed alone, but with pains tight,
Stealing me of all my might and delight.
With time and the wound`s quiet teaching hand
I slowly started to pick up the strand
Of the fractured edge of my lonely soul
And how to render it in some way whole.
Though the pain did not fade, nor did it cease,
It became a window for breeze of peace
To settle in my inner hallowed space
And a transformed vision to take its place.
My own wound, once an unbearable fire,
Now fuels a deeper dazzling desire
To reach across to others with harsh pain
And offer solace to them, once again.
Whisper
The whisper of the eternal God tiptoes in sighs
Breathing inspiration to the artist and the pen,
Murmurs consolation to grieving eyes,
Shivers in the tamed typhoon of shame to the cheating heart,
Quietly touches a fearful hand in the breath of silence,
Awakening praises of devotion in new antiphons,
Caresses moments of illumination,
Embraces weakness with the sweet fragrance of grace,
Leaves the shadow of a smile in moments of a-ha,
Exhales breathless anticipation like the haunting flute,
Floats with yearning to share secrets in the sanctuary of creation,
Soft brush in wispy silhouettes for shadows of questions,
Fluttering perpetual vow - abiding in tender vows -
No cold mistral disturbs the flow of prayers and pleas,
Ever restless seeks the soul’s attention in an airy gossamer kiss,
Ever present guardian,
Everlasting whisper of the eternal.
Inspired by Whisper to Me - not entered.
6-16-20
We all have private little quirks
That make us cringe or frown
And one of mine is bottle caps,
Removed and upside down.
Don’t know why this disturbs me
But it’s always been this way.
My friends and family flip the caps
To set the game in play.
I simply turn them over
So the top part’s facing me.
Perhaps this could be seen
As just as trifle O.C.D.
You’d think that I could easily
Avoid these little traps,
But I drink beer from bottles;
Hence, the presence of the caps.
I could just throw that cap away
But though the why’s not clear,
I never toss those tops until
I’m finished with the beer.
I laugh when someone flips my cap,
Like dangling some bait;
I flip it back, delighting in
The game I’ve helped create.
Living life without you
Not thinking about life without you,
Are different in his heart.
He feels if he thinks about it copiously
Then his mind and heart shatters more and more
He lives it daily ever since;
Ever since the last time he saw you
But never thinks about it.
Never thinks about it
Because he only wishes to see you everyday.
He only wishes to laugh with you everyday.
He only wishes to live life with you again: everyday.
He only wishes for you.
His thoughts of you; without you: disheveled
His thoughts of you; without you, he cannot grok
The cocophony of silence around him, disrupts.
The clangor of his mind, disturbs.
All because he seeks you.
by Andrew Crisci
Bitter tears drip from my red pupils like incandescent, hot lava
erupting from a volcano to appease the urges of weeping;
and do I mourn for myself, or for the poor, innocent, persecuted,
misunderstood and unloved? Will this cry of injustice change anything?
Will the oppressor be softened by them or remain vile?
It's very rare that pretentiousness turns into consciousness,
revealing all the faults that make one a persona ingrata;
why is human pride such a tempting desire to own everything,
to destroy what was built with stamina leaving no footprints?
What will be said about an era which did not prosper and shine?
Who will write the testimony books, if not those inspired?
Take the written word away, and the darkness will definetely return!
Dante and Shakespeare did their part in divulging it: you do yours!
Yesterday's world was a menacing shadow oblitering all knowledge;
the masses were ignorant, but some fervently sought education
through the favor of Kings and Queens, not ignoring the urges of weeping
that came from poverty and unvoiced thoughts that couldn't be expressed;
yes, the above-mentioned Rainassance poets did succeed in their quest!
What disturbs me is the absence of fairness and equality in our times,
even murderers can be acquitted for reason of insanity..they take a life
so sacred and useful in scopes beyond comphrension and imagination;
how wratful God must be over the decision of a lenient, or corrupt judge!
And what outrages me is the heartlessness of mothers that want obortion,
or leave the new-borns in trash bins, or on sidewalks...not even
on a church's steps to be spotted by passerbys who will come to their rescue;
and sadly they will die without knowing the urges of weeping as we do.
How cruel and lawless is Man ruling the earth without the concept of humaness!
And what does He care if they live in squallor and are denied happiness?
All He desires is riches, admiration and comfort over the urges of weeping!
Entered in Michael J. Falotico's contest,
" Sounds Of A Cry "