Long Dyslexia Poems
Long Dyslexia Poems. Below are the most popular long Dyslexia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dyslexia poems by poem length and keyword.
Landmarks From Childhood Out of Order
David J Walker
Perhaps it was just the random
remembrance of landmarks
From a childhood well past
Retracing steps made in snow
as if
They had no better place to go
although
Every day was easy and arrived with
its own adventure
In Summer we sunbathed on the
Crowded shores of Towne Lake
Mother warned of burning
The Autumn air was filled with the
Twentieth Century smell of smoke
From the front yard mountains of
burning leaves on every block
I had forgot the name
For the scent of rain
By the time Spring came
round again
The first year of High School
Overwhelmed with the
Fear of being the first
of the last and lost
The beige tiled hallways had
A history spanning its own eternity
of teachers and names
Of forgotten students
Mrs. Beards Kindergarten class
Taught everyone to tie their shoes
To know their colors
and count to 100
Junior High was an awkward Pimple fest
But the worst was dyslexia and
Puberty attacking in a two-front war
On my misplaced adolescent identity
Was there a better day to be born
With a different date
Was there a year when I would
Better fit in
I remember an assembly in elementary school
That father attended
He said nothing but I was so happy
To sit beside him
I remember a western festival in high school
That father came to
He was smiling though
at 16
I felt obligated
To ignore him
I remember Field Day the last day of the 6th grade
before the summer of Jr High
I remember the disappointment of the girl who
Would only date boys of her own religion
I remember her dropping out
to have a baby
I remember someone walked me
to my first day of class in kindergarten
It might have been my Mother
If I Was a Seagull
If I was a seagull
I wouldn’t have a bank account
I wouldn’t watch misery on TV
No concerns about the economy
Prices rising constantly.
I’d have my own nest
And wouldn’t need to upgrade
Or downsize. My kids would
Leave home naturally.
I’d find enough to eat everyday
I wouldn’t gorge and put on weight
I’d go wherever I desired
I’d be able to sleep when tired.
If I was seagull, I’d be able to swim
Walk and fly. Leave excrement on
Passers-by, laugh and squawk at will.
There’d be no lingering death if ill.
No coffin and false funeral
No religion and propaganda
No investigations by Panorama
No sex abuse by the clergy
No exams, no measurable stress
No jealousy, no hate, no misery
I’d be able to have sex, obviously
No bullying, bulimia, autism or
Dyslexia. I’d suffer from tourrettes
But never need the vets,
No Shakespeare, no poetry
The odd cat might worry me.
If only I was seagull.
David Cox 08/08/22
Without Agreement
Living in the vacuum of separation
An ashtray of burnt ember vibrations
In wounded agony torn apart
Sudden separation confusion imparts
Heartbeat separated from harmony’s essence
Absent whisper of the spirit’s presence
Heart in sweaty palpitations of dementia
Body swoons deprived in apt dyslexia
Two starving shadows whimper with fatigue
Pull in opposition as slumber flees
Banished into the abyss absent of life’s thrust
Cries for unity in harmony’s trust
Vertigo reigns in space split open wide
Simple grace caught between two riptides
Heartbeats and spirit wind lie in lethargy
Repulse vitality’s consummation in eulogy
The seed of unity clutched in arid darkness
Orphaned with withering roots of starkness
Nomads wander hearing the echo ancient
Blindly call muffled minds in siren’s plainchant
Climb from the chasm of separation
Find the way back to reconciliation.
9-19-22
Contest: San Mind Body
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Take Joy In Reading
Oh, how troubling when
dyslexia plays havoc :(
when typing my words
Total emotion
upsets my brain of thought, when
trying to compose
To love what I do
Because Poetry Soup has
become family
Early morning brew
Take joy in reading poems
from soup family
By Eve Roper 2/20/2015
Maybe just maybe I am and always
have been an
Undiagnosed
Apoplectically archetypal orthodox
Dislexic
Who unfortunately tried to spell
it out to anyone willing to listen
But obviously my words came out
all mixed up and wrong
So I never made any sense whether
that was or be
Whether scribbled down profusely and
indiscriminately on paper
Or spoken word of mouth thinking
other's could follow my train of thought
Which I perceived to be a well thought
out intelligent engaging conversation
Only to find out later people were only
merely placating and appeasing me
Because the one thing and defining characteristic I did have going for
me and on my side
Was that I what and while I lacked
in certain regards and area's
I somehow made up for in charisma
and sense of humor which manifested
in the guise of likeability
And the reason I used to get away
with things I never should have been
able to
But hey if they wanted to assume and
presume that of me
And they themselves opened up that
avenue of excuse for me to abuse
Then why on on wouldn't I take full
advantage and prey upon it
THE DYSLEXIC NIGHT
Back in the first millennium,
Putting the world to rights,
There lived a king called Arthur
With a band of gallant knights.
They did things democratically,
Seated round a table.
Although the lines are slightly blurred
Between true fact and fable.
The knights were known for gallantry,
Fighting many a foe,
And saving maidens from dragons.
They were always on the go.
But one knight had a problem,
Which I’ll tell you about directly.
He had a thing called dyslexia
And didn’t read thing correctly.
Now everyone knows that knights of old
Were meant to be very chivalrous.
But he just made a joke of it.
He’d read the word as frivolous.
Every year he made pots of jam,
With varying success.
All down to his habit of saving
Damsons in distress.
He wanted to hire a cleaner,
To give his wife a break.
So he offered the job to Nineve,
The Daily of the Lake.
He had a dozen children,
A strange situation, he felt.
For, each time he went off to battle,
His wife wore a charity belt.
Arthur sent him off one day
To find the Holy Grail.
He came back two weeks later
And handed the king a snail.
And then he solved the problem.
So now he reads quite well.
He consulted Mervyn the Wizard.
And we all know he could spell.
25th February 2020
Your Favourite Legend contest
Sponsor - Chantelle Anne Cook
‘One more job and then I am going to Panama and watch the canal in the sun’
John’s trust funds had not done so well lately and pension age approached fast
‘They ripped me off once more and I need my share of well-deserved freedom’
Justice beggared belief but redistribution of wealth was in the tools of his trade
He looked back on a distinguished career of many fine decades of occupation
Had proceeded from nicking wine gums and marbles at the local corner shop
Always quick on his feet and with nimble hands picking distinguished pockets
His first armed robbery succeeded with a toy gun filled with peas in the shooter
Fraud had not worked well that was for the learned and dyslexia had not helped
No Grammar School for him more like learning by doing and days on the streets
Short docket though for a man of his position so one final swoop for his nest egg
He neared the marble mansion torch and pass key in hand and lions on the gate
Gone with the times had an app on his watch to defeat cameras of surveillance
He could smell prawn cocktails roast ducks cranberry sauce and aged caviar had
Booked a false passport and first class flight and now he was over the high wall
Dreamt of high balls and Tequila safe in the faith that the safe could be cracked
Past the burglar alarm silencer on the barrel he encountered some hindrance
A flock of black swans started a racket and snapped at his trousers and ankles
'No more chains nor shackles' he prayed but had come prepared with some weed
Sharing is caring and the birds suddenly docile in swan song very kindly agreed
18th April 2019
Sir Richard Branson - Rocket Man
There was a boy who had not fared well at school
Years gone by and no one could call him a fool
Now a business tycoon and philanthropist
Virgin records, first venture on his checklist.
The owner of the Virgin Group he became
An entrepreneur with stand out claim to fame
Though it was not always a smooth sailing ride
He took the failures and mishaps in his stride.
Sir Richard Branson, born in nineteen fifty
Dyslexia made school a difficulty
That didn’t stop him chasing his ambition
He was determined to follow his vision.
A star in the making he just would not quit
Nothing and no one would stand in way of this
Each successful venture led to another
Outer space was the quest above all other.
Exploring space travel Sir Richard wished to do
Virgin Galactic has made the dream come true
This year SpaceShipTwo made its first test flight
The six on board had the journey of their life.
Sir Richard’s virtue is a lesson to all
His charitable kindness defines his call
We have to admire this boundless superman
May he continue for as long as he can.
It goes to show however humble life starts
Determination can fly one to the stars.
12th October 2021
As I have wondered through the halls of old,
the minds of famous scribes in academia
had made me fearless, oft carelessly bold
when Mind betrayed lexical anaemia.
Soon baying at the Moon as it weeps,
a different view, depending on aspect.
The wisdom I crave inexorably seeps,
but seldom culminates into respect.
The misprision's become my badge of honour
as hyperbole swills in lexicon o’ Man.
Long years of uninformed populous dour
with magniloquent thinking that poetry can.
Yet I contemplate books in warehouse—
dyslexia transformed it into ‘wh…house’—
endless mirth that others could never douse.
In Memory of Kerwin Rae - The man with a Mission
In loving memory of Kerwin Rae, who left us unexpectedly just days after celebrating his 50th birthday.
Kerwin was a remarkable figure—a motivational speaker, business coach, and virtually Australia’s own Tony Robbins. He reached millions, both in
Australia and globally with his inspiring guidance, especially those facing ADHD and dyslexia, challenges he knew personally.
This video holds a special meaning, as mystic coincidences unfolded during its creation, including a heartfelt share from Elizabeth Rae, his grieving mother, on her channel. Elizabeth, herself an acclaimed author and coach on ‘Women in Stress’, (womeninstress.com.au), has touched lives through her own journey and work. It is an honor that she reached out.
We are deeply touched to know that this video, with lyrics inspired by Kerwin’s teachings, was played at his funeral a few days ago.
Your comments here and by clicking above on my YouTube channel, where we share a brief of his life, would be a comfort to his mother, family, friends and followers.
Your shares could bring hope to someone in need, when reflecting on Kerwin’s enduring influence through the lyrics, as well as uplift and give people purpose in a world riddled with strife.
Thank you