Long Drowning Poems

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


No Longer Hungering For An Appetite

Though not exceptionally
famished, I took one bite
after another until tureen
licked clean to the delight
of zee missus, whose tasty

two stuffed peppers numbered finite
adequately apportioned appeased
served December 26th, 2020
supreme supper highlight,
hers whose non verbal expression
translated high as kite

beaming satisfaction at husband
well fed fueled might
dare attempt to craft following
reasonable rhyme posted 
for many readers onsite
passable endeavor hoop fully

buzzfeeding fanciful kudos - quite
acceptable to critique
mediocre outcome,
maybe ye suburbanite
dweller or thee might
perchance be longtime urbanite.

Nevertheless (me) de facto
de jure guinea pig cannot abstain
availing self as willing subject and feign
to gag on culinary entree with cuisine plain
no spicy food to avoid aggravating reign

of terror within
lower gastrointestinal tract,
a worse fate than being slain
in battle and/or
drowning within gravy train.

Most meals prepared courtesy thy wife
I masticate without any
(loose) indentured (sink false teeth into) strife
both of us quarantined as our typical nightlife

Covid-19 jazzmatazz planted
well rooted herbalife
such tranquility emblematic
when I become gratefully dead and
consigned to mounted afterlife.

Thus hoop fully
ye accepted poetic side morsel
(mine) somewhat wry
wordsmith (me) rather bland,
yet not averse to satisfy
merchant of Venice

much (moosh pit) ado about nothing, well nigh
preferring a midsummer night's dream afore
all's well that ends well
as you like it (poetry soup)
mine sense and sensibility doth defy
ratiocination minus any helpful alibi.

Methinks what future savory dish
the spouse might cook up,
what with an abracadabra
prestidigitation (Nike) swish
right before these myopic eyes witness
whatever mine heart doth wish.
Form: Rhyme


Imperfect

I dodge the mirror like it’s coming to get me
I lay around like something will change 
I curse my frame and do not eat 
then I mess it all up again

I spark one up as a way of releasing 
then wonder why I feel the same 
I’ve never been the jester type, I lose most every game

and how I tower, splutter and scour 
putting in my two pence when the bill has been paid 

Yet when I yearn for a different shape, different pastime, different state, every drop of me dries up 
every lump, with it every bump, is part of my mosaic 
every thorn has its rose, there’s a darkness behind every pose 
Imperfect is my perfect; it’s me everyone knows 

Yes, I bare all my emotions 
I can be short, I can form oceans 
I get things wrong, sometimes more than right 
I don’t foresee with perfect sight 

But I’ll be there when things feel off, when you’re drowning and it all just stops 
I’ll prove myself when you’re not sure 
when I fall down I’ll find another door 

Imperfect is my perfect and will be for ever more

Cooking With One Hand In Pocket

"Have you ever drowned? Not once. But repeatedly. You drown ...save yourself somehow (includes if you had aid of another person) and then drown yourself again. There is a distinct thrill in even thinking about facing death. Staring at the void ...trying to gauge ...which memories will be showing up like they say... Whose faces will turn up...whose voices you will hear... Will you want to stop getting sucked in? Or will you enjoy the paroxysm of transition?"

Darn. The water is boiling off. The noodles are getting stuck... Hey...but I don't wanna pull my left hand out of my pocket. The view of a pretentious and closed window above the induction, carelessly oozing out a cool breeze which in turn is fighting with the hot steam exhumed from the frying pan always reassures me that they are waiting outside. Friends. Loved ones. Strangers. Casting their shadows behind my beloved closed window. Sucking my cool breeze. Waiting  for me to be only left with the searing flame...until I'm forced to pull my left hand out and open the goddarned window... for them. No! Wake up! I don't have time to knit words out of this burning yarn of noodles! But my hand feels so safe in the snuggly pockets of my childhood bottoms. Oh wait! I can just keep the peg on the side, grab a cup, turn on the tap, waste some water, fill the cup, pour it on the burning noodles slowly meanwhile wasting some more water, keep the cup, close the tap, catch hold of the peg again and pretend I'm Darth Vader trapped in a woman's body with my lightsaber efficient only for flipping noodles. Ah yes. Even the re-establishment of my foothold runs a sweet satisfaction down my spine. This air of freedom ... Can I listen to some Nat Cole King please? Of course I can! Its all there in my head sweetheart... Couldn't raid that place yet, could you?

Is the fizz drowning the music? Yes...but that also means I'm nearing the end. A little disturbance to remind you that your time has come? Such wonderful these nuances are! As the smell of vinegar captivates the whole room, I pull my hand out of my pocket to pick up the plate and get out of the kitchen. Only to join the banter of the unwanted.
© Iman Roy  Create an image from this poem.

I Didn'T Answer, I Didn'T Need To

I didn’t answer, I didn’t need to

How did this happen,
amidst words, phrases,
stones skipped on poetic ponds
Not looking for or expecting
a touch to the heart, a caress,
yet it came

I fell, head first into a joy,
a blissful feeling
I had not felt before
You said the same,
wishes made on coins tossed
had finally come true

Holding hands without touching,
kissing over counted miles
and borderlines of snow
We sang together, harmonies,
lyrics of love from our hearts,
melodic compositions formed of dreams

Picked flowers, daisies, tulips
from the gardens of pure affection
blooming all around us
It seemed no walls,
barriers could hold us back
as we ran towards each other

Then appeared a river, wide, raging
A chasm of worry and fear
was flowing across our paths
Now a deluge of falling tears
filling, overflowing it banks
making footing uneasy, difficult

And we sit on opposite sides
staring at each other, reaching
for something that seems so far out of reach
Dark clouds roll in, threatening
but we stay, standing on the muddy shores
wondering what will become of us in this flooding

“I can’t” you weep facing
deep obstacles, a current too strong,
pulling you in different directions
A drenching downpour of emotions
saturating your decisions with doubt
as you wave goodbye
 
“Wait” I shout, “I will swim to you!”
But your eyes are too wet
and your heart is a breaking levee
Diving in anyway I am swept away,
pulled under, unable to breathe, choking
watching you fade as you turn away

Hope is gone, fears have overshadowed desires
drowning in what is lost,
trapped in the rapids of disappointment
When a hand grabs me, lifts me, saves me…
I open my eyes on the other side to see,
it is yours

You cradle me in your arms
and I breathe, the most wondrous breath
When suddenly clouds part and the sun
illumines your face as you whisper,
“You truly do love me, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer, I didn’t need to…you knew

I remember

I remember when my feet were smaller,
When my hair was longer,
When my dreams were bigger,
My smile brighter.

I remember when days did not start at Midnight,
When life didn’t feel like a big trap
Trapping me in a small cage,
Caging my innocence away.

I remember long summer days
When i thought love would save me,
When my thoughts were thoughts
And not gunshots,
When my hopelessness killed itself.

But it was replaced by sorrow and mourning and regret,
It was replaced by self loathing and double guessing and feeling insane;
‘Feeling like this would have gotten me lobotomised in the 50s’ I joke,
But then again an empty brain does not sound like a bad idea.

I remember picking chestnuts with my grandpa -it’s all dust now-
And feeling like myself for the first time,
And I remember having that taken away;
And I remember the laughter and the conversations, 
And the tenderness, 
And the screams and the bruises -I fell during P.E, mom-.
And I remember seeing the end, forever 15.

I don’t -I didn’t- remember many things
Back then,
Memories hit like a train wreck one day;
Flooding and drowning 
And lighting that
First cigarette, first kiss,
Always cried afterwards, always apologetic;
The machines were so scary, they checked my brain.
‘Feeling like this would have gotten me lobotomised in the 50s’
They don’t want you to remember.


Premium Member Untouchable

Sometimes the rain never falls , drowning in the overflow that falls from above
Speaking a word or two , something to do about love
Why do you even care , about all there is that you couldn't even hear
The world rushes madly on by, emerged so deeply in their own private made fear
Oh dear
One enormous mouth just flew by
On a ship built  by ego alone did he fly
Sooner or later apart it always falls
They are those who choose unseen, untouchable prison walls
Hiding forever from who know what 
Long as that invisible door remains shut
The mask they all seem to forever wear
Always pushing that same blank stare
Always different but then again always the same
Who is next that we shall lay the blame
this happened two hundred years ago 
Today the seeds we now sow
Living now  in that same  fires glow
Nothing different nothing the same 
Seeking the way to their own little piece of fame
Same old unfeeling bull game
Dreams dreams dreams flowing like the mountain streams
Soon to be gone with the ending winter snow
Always rushing with no where to go
Pain written  on their faces. 
Lost to human graces
But then  we sludge so dreary  on
 where the night goes forever ,
  forever  and then we are gone.
Now that didn't that very long
Form: Rhyme

Children sold souls

I try, in despair, to condense a tale from the illusion of your specter into language.
I bleed burning tears that sprinkle salt on the wounds of my cheek, its lot deprived.
I beg you to listen to the moan of my heart in the tightening of tone in my voice and in the trembling of the lip.
I ask you for a space on a day of your choosing in which I will confess what pains me of oppression that is difficult for me to disclose.
I wish, while I blaze and shatter, drowning in the fires of a forbidden love,
a knife along the length of the smile that splits the cells and the tears,
that I might wake one time-place and not find you suffering a stifled repression.
They inspired the following to me:
I do not think anyone reached this state of awareness of misery and continued resisting. I do not claim thereby the heroism of resistance at all, for “you are compelled, brother, not a hero.” I surrender to my restraints and my limitation as merely a genetic mutation unfit for evolutionary continuation.
I surrender, by my incapacity, before the simplest of silly potentials. I surrender in my helplessness before myself.
I accept the walls of my cage that were and will remain my home.
There is no freedom for the possibility of desire to choose. I will merge with my prison until every self of me is executed in an annihilating execution with no hope of manifesting in a subsequent life. I will ensure the death of every quantum particle of me so that there is no revival of the memory of the idea, so that disappearance is the final true death.
I recall my writing about my longing for the following forms of life; by cosmic irony, by this moment I feel nothing about that.
Possibility no longer allows more. I have exhausted infinity and I will return to point zero. I will return to where I belong and do not belong, and there will be no concepts of things.
Form: Other

I Met You

I 

don't 

remember

the first time

You

met

me

I wonder to what degree that upsets you

I can't recall 

The first time you called,
Though I've been told you phone in often.

I worry my forgotten memories effect you

Cuz truth is can't recollect

The first time we laughed,
Or the first time you collected
Those sticky snot waterfalls,
Pooling into a gelatin riverbed
In your freshly washed hands

Those freshly wash hands,
branded with my shrilling sobs,
And 
So 
Much 
More

You willingly entered
The chambers of my 
Hollow heart,
Where no thought escapes unharmed,
No sound breaks free of the deafening silence,
And every flake of dust is
Set fire by every forbidden feeling,
Forsaken by the only host it has ever known

You parted the blood red waters
Of my blood-brain barrier's borders,
Discovering chasms with treasures 
My own heart didn't know
It held dear

That's the first time 

I remember

I 

Met 

You  

I met you 
When billowing winds raged
And the very elements caged me in -
A prisoner
Of my own broken body,
Where dungeons and dragons 
Made their home,
Breathing fire at both friend and foe
Leaving memories and budding dreams homeless

I found you -
In hell,
Its rotting jaws gaped wide open 

And you were standing in the opening,
Waiting for me - 
Not for the first time,
But the first time I called 
With the desperation of one drowning for air

And you held the oxygen.

Premium Member Sunset Swansong


In the misty milepost
of the penultimate pathway,
at the faint fringe
of future obscure,
the twilight tune 
reverberates the requiem
for the forlorn tree,
silhouetted tranquil 
against sundown skyline
of transient radiance,
witnessing in
the cauldron of time
the last flash 
of the decaying day, 
d y i n g…. 

The twirling tapestry 
of tempestuous torment, 
interlaced seamlessly
with the cleaved clouds 
of swarming storm,
ravages the unwary horizon, 
halcyon once,
marks the chameleon shift
of concealed colors
on convoluted canvas, 
lacerates the last corner
of the frail fresco,
c r u m b l i n g….

The deformed shards 
of the splintered sky 
spin in swirling storm, 
roll on the dismal waves 
of curled up bleak cloud, 
the remnant rays 
of sanguinity still sparkle  
in the departing flashes 
of the sinking sun,
drowning the montage
of memory,
compose the latent melody
of the unsung dreams 
with the fossilized life’s 
fading cadence,
sequistered in spectral lyric
of sunset swansong,
r e s o n a t i n g ….

Premium Member My Pen Bleeds Love

I never meant to fall in love with you,
but the first time we met I was entranced.
Was it your yellow golden hair?
Was it your blue eyes like a clear lake?
(in which I was drowning)
Perhaps it was your voice like a drifting melody?

But, I was enchanted and I loved you with all my heart,
oh, what a wild whirlwind romance;
and then you were asking me to marry you,
and I whispered yes into your ear.

It was a magical wedding with snow falling around us,
and we promised to grow old together;
with our promise of eternal love,
but, there was another destiny written for us.

Now, you are but a star shining bright above for me,
and my life is without you in it but our love remains;
and I must come to you in a cemetery,
for you are but a name engraved.

You come to me in dreams just as I remember you,
with that blonde yellow hair and blue, blue eyes;
and we swirl and dance the night away,
as we did on our wedding night.

I pick up my pen and write love poems,
with a pen that bleeds, bleeds for you;
and as I write-  I sing a love song,
"Look at the stars, look at how they shine for you
 and everything you do." 
(Yellow by Coldplay)

_____________________________
February 10, 2020

Poetry/Free Verse/My Pen Bleeds Love
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1224-540-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France


Written for the contest, Famous Poetic Lines 3
sponsor, Silent One

Third Place

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