Long Dizziness Poems

Long Dizziness Poems. Below are the most popular long Dizziness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dizziness poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Dizzy Before

…Before:      DIZZY INDEED

Afflicted… ailing due to drug addiction  
Bum he had become
Chained to conceit’s cage
Dysfunctional driven by delusion-dizziness…

-----Now:   DIZZY NO MORE

Enveloped by God’s love enormously
Freed from addiction fall toward faith’s flight
Guarded with goodness grace 
Hoisted along heavenly hope…

Instilled with the Saviour’ righteousness-imputation
Joyous new creation* he experiences midst jeering judgment
Kindness showing with Christ’s keeping
Love of the Lord sharing; leading others to His light.

*2Corinthians 5:17 Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.  

September 3, 2019

3rd place, "Bring a character to life" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux; judged on 9/7/2019.
Form: ABC


The Dreams

He wanders along the tail of the Milky Way.
His cloud-soft steps skim the blue of the sky.
He plays with time, teases the wind, grows breathless.
On tiptoe, he brushes the squares of a hopscotch.

In deep sleep, a dream carries him toward infinity —
to see his youth again, the smiles of vanished years,
to imagine that anything is possible in the night,
to become Balthazar, finally reaching the Shepherd’s Star.

The cold of emptiness, the dizziness of a cliff he flees,
the darkness of a chasm — he screams in fear as he falls.
Agitated, sweating, gasping, he wakes on borrowed life.
In dreams, anything is possible; he travels through time.

A gentle music licks him, tames his heart.
It enters his mind, awakens the source of his tears.
The sounds crash, swirl, circle around him, flattering.
The Dream is an open-sky theatre, the Harp of our Souls.


Joël Charvillat

Beautiful Sadness

Beautiful sadness

Dizziness takes hold, as life's light grows dim
Darkness invades, as realities fade
Breathing stops cold, survivals chances, slim
All functions slayed, succumb to hearts blockade

Empty voids fill this ebon existence
Nothingness penetrates life-giving cells
Spirit re-ignites, blasting resistance
Silencing the ringing of tolling bells

Eyes wide-open, twinkling in night sky
Nourished by a rush of blood to the head
A temporal break as life passes by
Grateful for life, instead of being dead

My pacemaker insists on heartfelt gladness
I'm satisfied with beautiful sadness

John Derek Hamilton
December 31,2018
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member - Throughout Open Windows -

I try to create silence in the colors
when I decorate my home
The rooms have their own high pitched atmosphere
Where the artist has painted
the smallest and finest details
My favorite artist is, Mother Nature
Nature has its own palette
and soft brushes
Maturity and renewal takes place all the time
The images change hour by hour
Every sunrise and every sunset

As the storm builds up around the lighthouse
No curtains should hide these beautiful paintings
If you, like me, love nature and art
Sit by my side and enjoy the view
You get goosebumps ... (I bet)
and will be affected by sacral dizziness
when you entering my door
Understand with your heart






19/11/2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Your Favorite Artist Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
2nd place in the contest

Premium Member Stranger Holds Umbrella

STRANGER HOLDS UMBRELLA

Rhythmic ripples of an h2o body,
  smooth saunter of disciplined legs,
    shadow in the dark, headless apparition.
      umbrella held steady, with a dustless glove.

Pounding heart of fear or curiosity.
  clothing causes eyeball reaction, dizziness.
    cerulean like the sky, then fireball orange
      tartan plaid, then snowball white.

Wanting a rainstorm to pour a deluge,
  to soak, this phantom stranger,
    make him or her turn toward the lamppost 
       or the moonlight.  Wanting for this clown to crash.

For such are our jealousies, our bullying, the threat
  to our sensibilities.  We want to take down what we
    don’t understand.  Snatch the cloud-umbrella, shine
       a bright flashlight into his or her unwholesome eyes.

Perhaps we’d find ourselves staring back, saying,
  “It’s your turn now.  Take the umbrella, it’s yours.”
     and would we forget, walking like a rhythmic hymn,
       walking away from ourselves, with perfect cadence,

until the next midlife stranger, tapped on a cherry-red suit,
  wanting to revisit the past, becoming the future.  The
    suit turns all black, likewise the face and umbrella.
      lightning sees only a shadow, invisible, cloaked in death.

8/29/2017


Premium Member Playground of Romance

In her playground of romance,
swings of destiny swayed gently,
as a merry-go-around span endlessly,
so in a state of dizziness,
I crept inside, unaware, in my sleepiness,
I had been treading upon flowers beneath my feet,
as their fragrance faded, her spirit wept in echoes of betrayal,
but her tongue could not explain,
so, I gifted her three dahlias from my soul's oasis;
purple for prosperity,
red for passion and
white for innocence.

I can still remember the taste from
the first time I felt the moisture of her lips.
In a night where we held each other so tight,
we sizzled like the Sahara sun,
as heat kindled in our kisses,
we merged in the silent language of touch,
waiting for gravity to bring us back.
We were adrift without the need for words - 
in places poetry cannot reach.  

In our infatuation, following lanterns in the night sky,
I mistook our path of promises 
for an intimate illusion only found in dreams
and became misplaced in her self sabotaged storm,
until I was swept away with merciless waves.

Yet, yearning rests upon the tip of my tongue,
like breathless whispers.
If only she would come to me like dawn,
so I could kiss her like ripples at 5am and
once more feel the heartbeats upon her breast.

I turn half asleep,
reaching out into the emptiness,
as the darkness paints her silhouette in each corner,
flickering sentimental slideshows in my mind,
absorbing the angst of her absence.

Now I am nothing,
and she no longer remembers my name -
so what purpose is there to remain?

Ravens gather to the rhythm of a sad piano,
as my pulse beats wistfully among weeping willows,
leaving traces on my flesh like raindrops on stone.
Reciting the last paragraph, I ponder
if this is maybe the penultimate poem,
as we cannot find new verses to ink together.

But, our memories are stitched into the same seam,
so I'll wear her handwriting until heaven.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Warnings

          The doctor gave me a prescription for medicine,
and all the container said was, take two pills at bedtime;
                   I decided to look up the side effects and warnings,
holy smokes, the list was a mile long  . . . causes dizziness.

            Oh that's great, I am dizzy already, confusion, headache,
muscle weakness, WEIGHT GAIN (darn it ), slow heart beat;
                  chance of heart attack, seizures,  liver/kidney damage,
patients may have higher likelihood of cancer resulting in death.

       If breathing stops . . . call 911???  No way I will be taking 
these  PILLS,  those   w a r n i n g s  are too scary for this girly girl.

__________________________
October 14, 2016 

Poetry/Light Poetry/Warnings 
Copyright Protected, ID 10-839-409-14
All Rights Reserved, 2016, Constance La France

Deeper Into Addiction: Perfect Memories, Hollow Reality

Cold air surrounds me
My body shivers as it did long ago
I fight against the rush of memories
But give into my addiction

I sit where we both sat that Halloween night
Nervously laughing, hands trembling
Neither of us knowing
Exactly what to do

The windows fogged up
As our breathing became ragged
Two little lovers
Each into the other

As I finish my high
My memory bursts out of my eyes
Tears cascading down my face
Picking out old memories to quell the pain of life

Addicted to what used to be
Current reality is death to me
Stay away from me, object of my past
Don't give me memories when I'm almost done at last

Compound toxins build up in me
Memories of you clash with drinks flowing free
The dizziness of drunkenness kills off the old
And inserts me into a world of gold

Until I wake again and remember it all

The past was so perfect...
Now it's so hollow

Where does my salvation lie?
© Derek Chos  Create an image from this poem.

Wrapped

It isn’t weak when it pleasures me
It’s more profound in informing details in leaks it only seeks sensual desire
The way it’s too tight it swipes me right off my feet just to flee off the forbidden valley
It cheers in complexion disguising in corals
Its distinctive insights foresees the flexible feeling to enter
To bind right with the lips just to taste the power of being dominated
If I would scream it would enjoy my acknowledgment
In further it would go straight up to start over again
This time my eyes would be folded in mystery
My hands would be handcuffed
The room shall be ball the most auspicious fulfilment of different desirable tools to commit submissive Act
Purified…The chosen ones only to transmit such Dominant Act
The chemistry it plays the actual passion of being submissive.
The taste of being strangled grasping for air till the feeling of dizziness contagiously takes its effect then being let go right after a full squeeze of the under area
A punishment of a spank while bend over without a cause
A trap for both of my legs just to be powerless while I’m being violated slowly
Each stroke contains a high pitch of moans
Until the water fall squirts leaving an unbearable vibration of sensation

Premium Member A Hunter Boy's Penitence

A hunter boy born to God fearing parents
Was taught from his very early childhood;
Failure to attend church on Sundays needed penitence
As it was an act of defying God and dishonoring His parenthood
The boy faithfully took the advice to his heart
		
But his fad for hunting was too irresistible to put away
Brazenly, he skipped church on one Sabbath day
And roamed through the jungle looking for a prey
Like one on a treasure hunt, excited and gay
He dreamed of hunting down a bird or beast with his dart

In wild enthusiasm, he clambered up every hill ad vale
Exploring every cranny through bush and brake
As he turned to a dark corner, following a trail
There stood a lion and no doubt, his valor did shake
He started shaking and shivering in great fright

On an impulse, the boy turned backwards to run
Alas, he slipped off and rolled down the peak
With the beast chasing him in hot pursuit, like a demon
Crashing on a boulder, his ribs broke with a creak
With dizziness, he knew, he would collapse straight

Unable to run or even move, he writhed in pain.
Trembling from the crown of his head,
To the soles of his feet, as the lion closed in
He realized with a shock, he would soon be dead
And knew his disobedience was the sole cause for his fate

In great desperation, he cried out with all his heart
“Lord, I am so sorry for my willful omission
Please forgive me and save me from being torn apart 
Make this lion a good Christian with all compassion”
And rid me safe from this miserable state

Lo, the clouds parted in the heavens with a creak
And a beam of light shone down on the aggressor
The lion skidded to a halt and suddenly turning back
Fell on its knees and clasped its paws together
As if it was full of contrition for its wicked act

In thankfulness, like a good Christian of benevolence
The lion drew the sign of the cross for God’s grace to overpower
And recited in a tone of great reverence and forbearance
“Father in Heaven, bless this food that I am about to devour!”
Before it sprang, through some strange providence, the boy escaped intact


------------------------------------------------

April.8.2022
Tall Tales.2. Poetry Contest
ababc, dedec…. Tail rhymed tall tale
Sponsor- Jeff Kyser

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