Long Dysphoric Poems
Long Dysphoric Poems. Below are the most popular long Dysphoric by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dysphoric poems by poem length and keyword.
I fell for you in the way of the ultimate universe.
I was swept away by the waves of the emerging ocean
I was immersed into the concept of uplifting and compassionate emotion
due to the presence of this mystery element that has been to my dry skin, my healing lotion.
I have worked hard to focus on self-love and self-respect,
enough to embrace the project to remove and eject
the poisonous spirits and negative energy from my days
I would rather love me than to hate another anyway.
I have emoted beautifully to others to receive no responses.
Left unloved and alone, I experience being despondent.
To hear the same words that I uttered to another
would create a euphoric sensation to this ex-lover.
I want for us to love and adore each other,
but it cannot happen if we do not come from the undercover with their true lover.
The truth is as refreshing as the overdue cup of fresh water on the rocks,
even if it's hidden in a FIJI bottle, it's not as bad as a lie confined up to docks.
The harsh realities of this dysphoric journey
helps me to realize that I'm not of this world, that this is not for me.
How can I escape the unrealistic reality and channel my inner truth?
Just one message can unlock my innermost vulnerabilities to you.
This smile that's really crying denial,
crying inside, crying, no smile
Conflicted choices of either living a safe yet self-destructive lie
or bear the slander and defamation and ignorance to be of the truth, to be set free and fly.
Sometimes, the answers to all of our questions in life could be among the most random places,
whether inside of a fortune cookie, a billboard, a song, a verse, a proverb, a message in a bottle, or in someone's eyes or face.
Do I still have questions that need answers? Only the message lost at sea can indicate what's left to discuss or fuss about.
Close your eyes, relax your mind
Just breathe, and let it go.
Experience one last catharsis . . . . . .
I walk my life, a subway station
Where dirt consorts
The air around.
It pounds my nape,
It flames my mind
With sights and fates
And sounds.
Above, a tram goes up the alley
Tinged with canary hue.
Below, my wit:
What void, what valley:
It sank, in Tagus mused.
I take a seat, doors screech behind.
O, what wondrous whiffs?
Of metal beams
Attriting loudly
Against metal wheels?
To a halt it cuts my chain of thought,
Rivals my dream, they brawl.
'Tis from the gallery
Of broken hope
The beggar man crawls.
Intemperate horns his entry announce,
Dysphoric scenes aground.
He comes detuned
Near clears his throat,
Lethargic voice resounds:
I beat my cane
In wrongful rhythm,
'Cause wrongful
Was my life.
My voice hurts from
All this singing:
'Twas morphed into
A sigh.
I longed, I longed
For all my sinning
Was ought to be repaid.
Deserved so much,
God took my
Will, my sight,
My love, my
Name.
So tell me, vagrant,
What did He take?
-Said I-
Who has loved you?
What is your will,
What name did you go by?
I used to be a man of soul
Whose heart beat strong and dign,
I used to write
And then I died
On the 10th before July.
He took my coins for all my service
At wars:
At land
At sea
-The waves still have her,
Laying there still,
Waiting away from me!-
Said he-
I will my love,
My fire, passion
-My young Natercia!-
Most darling of all nymphaea!
So God is just after all,
Replacing sin with grief.
No need for me
To pay the man:
God has done the deed.
The deadbeat coins of his cup
Turmoil ever so slightly.
I leave my dream,
Doors shrill again:
'Tis time to end my journey.
Remember Victor Frankenstein-
his fault that transcends generations,
no, no, no not his desire my dear child,
hiding the daemons of our minds-
that is the real tragedy.
His heart told him to continue-
as if following the heart trumps the brain,
his skin crawling as his eyes widen-
gasping and panting with his heart.
Remember Victor Frankenstein-
watching his family disappear,
the secret hidden away- but so
what, remember Victor Frankenstein-
Victor Frankenstein is the template.
Finding ourselves sharing space and thought,
yet gaining nothing- for there is still a boundary,
the ideas locked away in the corner-
hidden from the other-
desiring oneness with the other-
Individualism never leaves,
but the allurement-
of having a mind to share,
a heart to hold-
Binding the mind for the sake,
of a manic heart.
But the knowledge is there,
though there is a together-
is there really a together?
I feel somber and distressed.
Life is unpredictable added with stress.
And yet, at times; daily life is monotonous.
Blithe indifference to anyones lewdness.
Feeling dysphoric laden with despair.
Trying to hang on; why should I care?
Dancing with intrusive thoughts of a permanent end.
Sinking in quicksand my mind slowly descends.
Really there is no rhyme; or no reason..
For my state of mind; of its own treason.
Fighting on the grounds of the "mental battlefield".
Dropping my guard; defenseless without my shield.
Taking another step in this muddle-headed land "mind".
Unexplainably made me feel somewhat repined.
Trapped in this existence and the next...
Why does this "reality" have to be so perplexed?
A troubled mind barters with trials and tribulations.
Always wondering aimlessly full of unanswered questions.
A fragment of your shattered soul is all I have since last we met;
it wavers to the gentle sigh of nature's woodwind melody.
I stand before horizon blue with living-love at fingertips;
like a blooming heart, its crimson cast intones a blissful purity.
A faint sensation weaves throughout the solitary atmosphere;
its aromatic subtlety alleviates my wistful mind.
Your tender touch and sprightly smile, I now recall so vividly.
In a joyous breath, my inner being is purged of its dysphoric bind.
A fragment of your shattered soul is all I have, but now I know;
its vernal pulse must be returned so that you can be truly free.
My last goodbye, I give to you before I set your love adrift.
I am grateful that you took the time to plant yourself and grow in me.
Like the petals of this rose, you'll be...
an eternally fragrant memory.
“he astringed a vein in the loquacious tongue
- triggered plunger syringe needle and zaz...-
now see how this psychedelia is fleeting
and the silent world that in rainbows dissolves”
when and if you wanted to hide
the stings or dreams were like this
[this being one of other inapparent ways
to inoculate narcotics]
(people actually don't know
the paths of a map if they don't walk it)
people who are absent from themselves
lost by electronic platforms
inept and inania
ignore their core
because the organism stretches
as if all the members were
octopuses tentacular stems
but the world today is disenchantment
we are nanotragedy in microcosm
peddlers prostrate on ancestral rocks
mere distracted reptiles
disguised
dissolute
dysmorphic
dysphoric
dyslexics
distant.
Our Past, Times Mirror
Miracle Man
10/26/2024
When we look into time’s mirror,
we behold only our past.
Both pleasing and unhappy,
that during life we’ve cast.
Our past is totally ours,
and our protected read only file.
Memory cause some to grimace,
to others it brings a smile.
We make no attempt to alter,
the things found archived here.
It’s like a book containing pages,
some, our memory might dog ear.
While others know many things,
from vibes that we might send.
Until death locks our memory,
only then will it see its end.
In every life there’s dysphoric things we Can’t forget
and also things we cherish and remember.
Tom
The full moon kindles a bipolar mind:
like a hunter hard on his prey, the nights
revive a dark, dysphoric mood; then grind
the soul to abject lows from perfect heights.
And when from states of bliss to states of woe
the spirit goes, even a soul born high
longs for eternal sleep where the dead go;
where the departed no more howl or cry.
But if this dire dilemma be the soul's plight,
then it will fight fate with its utmost breath:
though it may succumb to life's hellish flight,
where madness can be an end worse than death!
Some might change, and find some meaning again:
but most adjust, while others go insane.