Long Emoting Poems

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


Premium Member monkey bites

Here it comes again, the daily reminder ...
cold sweats out of nowhere that hit me like a slap
on the face, my entire body turning clammy wet in an
instant, three-or-four times every day. Then there's the
uncontrollably exaggerated yawning and eyes that won't stop
watering, a runny nose as if instant hay fever, and that nearly in-
tolerable creepy muscle thing ... that's the worst symptom of all by
far, (akathisia, it's called), because you CAN'T hold still - all your bones
and muscles have to move at once, or you quite simply can NOT tolerate it.

I always say a prayer that it only happens a few
times each day, and only lasts for a short time, but
to be honest, it's a nightmare, and inside I'm cursing ...
cursing myself for this reminder. The reminder of a terribly
bad decision  that I made thirty years ago. Oh, my "problem"
is under control, thanks to a wonder drug that did indeed save
my life, (when my heart stopped thrice), and while I no longer abuse
anything, that accursed monkey is still there, riding me like a two-dollar
mare, and reminding me a few times each day, that it's completely in control.

Yes, I'm alive and writing this because of it, and
as thankful as a human can be, truly, but I'm light-
years from the obliged kiss-off I dream about giving it.
You see, it creates another problem all its own, one they
don't tell you about when you start on "The Program", that
this particular monkey, while having the power to save your life,
is also the strongest, most tenacious monkey that exists, by FAR,
and the chance of you ever giving it that dreamed-about final goodbye,
are easily the longest odds you've ever had, especially with a weakened heart.

But you push your mind to try to remain thankful
nonetheless, because after all, you ARE still alive ...
alive and kicking and getting these wonderfully horrific
reminders each day, of just how little control and charge
and health and power you have over your own life ... alive
and moving through life like you have a giant condom on your
body and mind and emotions, not really FEELING or emoting or
experiencing much of anything in the way a human being SHOULD be,
but alive and breathing and functioning ... you ARE still alive  ... aren't you?


Premium Member If I Ruled the World

so many unknown variables to consider for such a tasking pursuit

a conditional ‘If’ but what if ‘whether’ reigns in a supreme challenge

conjectures battle refutations and synapses blocked in surrender

as long as suppositions succeeded in their hypothetical contemplation

the world may as well be flat and circle unhappily one of its moons 


the ‘I’ would be futile a self negating deprecation on auto-destruct

and endless loop of no Self on a path to nowhere and nothingness

not of Buddha like Nirvana but hell on earth as we know it  too well

a spinning confusion of gravity with levitation spared its flight of fancy

when meditation and pondering could not lift the soul above the mind


‘ruling’ that wishes to overcome suppression domination and power

appears a futile concept when freedom should be the ultimate aim

of course anarchy holds its merits but people cling to being governed

by false leaders fake news and an insatiable need for crude abdication

in an attempt to cast responsibility and shred all courage and hope


‘the’ poses the question of this or that where and when whether at all

a simple adverbial adjective refusing to rest on quiet incomplete duty

bereft of solitary meaning and such an imposter of clarity and precision

no stand alone metaphor of context and contingency lost in the process

but the planet needs answers and I do not give up easily if besieged


is there a ‘world’ out there a compass and globe in my restless attempts

to understand question emphasize deconstruct and give a sweet home

to live up to its promises and dreams as opposed to terminal decline

word has it that there are only illusions betrayal and survival of the fittest

engulfed in delusions conflagrations raging inferno straight from its core


‘I’ if it was able to resist compartmentalization of Ego Super Ego and Id

might not want the elusive generational torch snuffing out a last breath

maybe I am overthinking under emoting and have surrendered in vain

to lost beauty and a vacuum of distant echoes of an unforeseeable future

therefore I conclude that if I was the ruler I would ask my kids for advice



14th August 2020

Premium Member Rapacious Itch

Rapacious  Itch 


It felt things coming, 
The undeniable bottom feeder reality, 
Where thought had no credulity, 
Where irrational emoting ruled, 
Void of mind’s prep, 
Blind of light’s revealing purpose. 

Such remained 
This well-rehearsed and produced 
Pulp life infestation. 

It remembered… 

Once many clambered to the marble steps, 
Where dreams born of teachings 
Promised delivery of reward. 

But today…
 
All that is found 
Is perpetuation of schoolyard practices, 
Where bullying, 
Mocking, 
And “my dick is bigger than your dick” war-cries 
Intimidate life’s playground with slippery slopes. 

Down 5th Avenue, 
Up Park Avenue, 
The viral contaminants parlay their wears, 
A far more contagious disease than Ebola. 

And it knows… 

Unlike a possible cure for a biological virus, 
This consumerism equation seems without solution, 
Given little of non-material worth remains 
Visible on the species’ blackboard mess. 

Today’s squirming parade of absence 
Is dominated by the pounding of urban-warrior chests, 
Of Armani jackets atop unlaced “made-to-look-raunchy” boots, 
Ken Doll fantasies courting the strut of Barbie Doll dreams 
Clicking attention with stiletto heels 
Beneath ripped shorter than short-short insecurity. 

On it spreads, 
Past the Wall Street reviewing stands, 
Where unlike the fickle nature of society’s infection, 
Market makers understand a fever’s ups and downs, 
Vulnerability’s capricious norm endorsing today’s 
Debauchery fashion to Trump-taste, 
Loudness to drown out worthy music, 
Shock to shatter the true awe of discovery, 
And the drowning of excellence
As it continues its desperate clinging, 
All while mediocrity’s narcissistic sell-off 
Creates another closing-bell windfall. 

The pestilence holds firm its lock on discernment’s immune system, 
Mutating daily into a mind-shrinking captivity, 
A synaptic virulence rapidly rendering this once simple discomfort 
Into an insatiable itch that will never realize its pursuit of “Ah!”.
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Tears For Relationship

Fears of Abandonment

I feel you need
and want me less
than I need
and want you,
and like you,
or how about exclusively
peculiarly
curiously love you?
adult with mature adult,
embracing EarthTribe perennial invitation
into nutritious co-habitation.

And yet I fear
we both would rather invest ourselves
in most any distraction,
entertainment,
idle gossip,
idol worship,
other than this sacramental relationship
of me with
and for you,
and you
with and for me.

Not despite all our decades
of competing foolishness,
but learning together through all our beat down
hidden longings
to feel safe daily respite;
to feed sacred partnered
sanctuary feelings,
covenanted thoughts

Of epic everyday co-investors
with no sacred or secular,
divine or profane assets
held in dualistic
disassociated reserve,
just in case life doesn't work out safely together
better than unsafely apart.

When sacred love conquers all defensive fears
and transparent invitation
redeems secular competitions in anger
overwhelming economies of needy greed
and selfish politics of envy,

When daily co-passion rules 
not just left-brain corporate commodity identities
but also pervades our cooperative right-brain sanctuary
of primal relationship feelings,
deep learning connection,
robust attachment,

Then our mutual root system
and garden,
our forest of emotions,
our home plate defensive motions,
our core incorporations
for not abandoning compassionate Earth
as we know and love
all Her multiculturing incarnations
of co-empathic relations
further refine Golden Rules and Ratios,

Health-passion, slow-grown
co-arising emergent ecstasies,
co-gravity emoting climax,
epic wonder,
awesome win/win integrity.

Feeling cooperatively needed
wanted
heard
appreciated
through natural nurturing ego/ecosystems,
mutually-held and responsive invitations
to love all EarthTribes,
life forms
as EarthMother has win/win loved you
and me,

All Souls of regenerations past,
present,
future.

Premium Member Isolation, Uncertainty, Expectation

ISOLATION, UNCERTAINTY, EXPECTATION
 
He sent me his music composition,
a solo piano piece for Isolation.
I started listening with anticipation,
as my mind went overdrive with imagination
that transported me into different dimensions.

Taking me back in time, like in the 18th century, 
dancing to this music, a contemporary
on a huge stage with no other dancers, no audience
dressed in a white below the knee dress
with hair pulled up adorned with white flowers
with some strands of curls draping my neck.

My bare feet leaping, twirling, tip-toeing
with my body expressing and my face emoting
inner emotions of sadness, uncertainty,
concern, faith, hope or expectation.

Sadness for our pandemic situation and isolation.
Uncertainty for when we can have the resolution.
Concern for our loved ones and for all the nations.
Faith and hope for all of us to have to be united,
to give the utmost cooperation to quickly achieve
our expectations of slowing this pandemic,
discovering treatments and ultimately, a vaccine. 

Then I was taken back to the present
seeing him playing his piano, playing this piece
with gusto, passion, intensity
how a great maestro plays 
dressed in plaid shirt with shades
of green and peach and blue jeans.

Surprisingly, I was taken into the future
watching a symphony and there he is
in his tuxedo, conducting this piece.
It ended with thundering applause.
The pianist standing and him turning
and bowing to the audience, still applauding.
And then I saw myself in the audience
dressed in a black dress clapping,
cheering him and this piano piece.

The music played for eight and a half minutes
leaving me more appreciative of music
thinking what it can do for us and how it affects us
in positive ways, especially at this current crisis.


Submitted:  3/30/21   All Yours (Mar 31) Poetry
                                 Brian Strand 
Written:  4/2/20


Premium Member Pristine Presence

Fully present in the pulsating now,
embracing and releasing flow of life,
vibrant and aglow, letting God endow,
invoking grace thus, we become bliss rife.
Our pristine presence, as such in monk mode,
having relinquished both fear and desire,
dwells for the most part, in heart’s love abode,
having no earthy goals left to aspire.
We do nothing yet all doings are done
and as the false falls away, we behold
that in truth, we are with existence one,
living light of Self, innocent and bold.
Attention animated, we are still,
having surrendered fully, to God’s will.

Having surrendered fully, to God’s will,
hemmed in by senses and encased in form,
we feel soul’s light, in moments when we’re still;
rapture renewal, a benign bliss storm.
Our awareness, independent of thought,
is at all times resplendent in its light,
recognising that in this dream we ought
view the pulse dual, with spherical sight.
Breath by breath as such, aboard God’s bliss bus,
living internally, feeling joy rise,
highs and lows of life, no longer nonplus,
as we delight in each offered surprise.
No longer then by lower mind decoyed,
our vibrant presence, dwells in the vast void.

Our vibrant presence, dwells in the vast void,
which is not to say we negate pleasure
but since we’re no longer by desires toyed,
the caress of love is all we treasure.
Save emoting love, what is there to do,
given that God dwells within every heart,
the clear truth of which if everyone knew,
we’d deem all souls as one and none apart.
No doubt in timeless time, mankind will learn,
to live in peace under the oneness sign
but for the moment, we suffer and burn,
till the day we choose with love to align.
Tango dancing with bliss, to God we bow,
fully present in the pulsating now.

Premium Member Take Me To Where Love Learns No More


Take me to a lovely place where love has learned all that it has to learn 
A quiet spot where soul can sigh and ease into the heart, like magic
Kachina dolls are we exchanging nature's hue through love's fire 
Electing to be the one for one another, without conspire   

Mouthing words of affection we  bloom inside each other like flowers 
Eyes of love never cease to look and that is what gives us the power ! 
 
To love and to be loved  to know beyond all doubt that we are precious   
Owned yet free to be be-souled and bejeweled, with every breath devout 

We live and breathe as one 
Here on earth as in heaven 
Every limb connects  
Rope to rope 
Escorted by the pull 

Love holds us safe 
Opposite, face to face   
Veering towards each other  
Every breath is ours to take 

Lessons learned, we no longer have to fight nor digress as we face each other    
Emoting  through facial expressions what we have memorized yesterday. Like   
Abbey friars lost in solitude, after a long Sejourn, no clashing sound, As we   
Repose in our experiences of those bygone years, we find our   
Nature.  We no longer need to be lead to places that make us whole.  
Sedentary truth sits within the seat of our souls, like jewels in the night  

No one can find us there  
Only God shadows us 

More of nothing is better than more of anything 
Once you find the skeletal key to happiness through love 
Rest assured you will never forget the paths and hedges of your maze   
Elect to be for one another a true perfecta of Divine Love and then soar...
Form: Acrostic

Back In Chain

Hashtags polling

virtual war, viral

naija stand by

wait!

Fall they will,

like pack of cards

in the face of cash

Sandcastle disco!

Sing-song voice, rings hello

trained roll of the tongue

cultivated baritone

a pitch here and there, emoting

Back in chains

tongue under this blade lies

cool, feeling cool,

hugging the chains

listening to the Cool FM

What a way to be cool?

Mangling words

tangling slurs and extended 'r's

silent 't's revving

superiority screaming

welcome back

Voice picked out of the box

tailored, washed&Iron dried

even those whose fathers'

couldn't afford a tube

told stories of summer school

in harmattan

Gonna, wanna, perhaps fonna

from the mastery of their tongues

came out slightly, then wholly

half baked sausages

dropping with a dum!

announcing back in chain

Laugh, they laugh at 'my fellow widows'

her version of English mimicry worthy

strength of character makes a wife

not the slurred 'r's and dimmed 't's

Don't get it twisted

So the next time she comes

thinned out at her vitals

'nasal-ing, tangling& mangling' words

be patient to tell her to untie her knots

before cavorting you to sleep in peace

back in chain your fathers bled off their necks
Form: Elegy

Senobus

The blackest night wrapped around the lake of Votna - snow fell fast what is up and what is down? A fist held tightly not allowing a single sound.
 Below the murky waters lay a creature unfound. 
On its serrated time timetable and its unfounded clean the concoction mirrors the souls it has taken, they could not find his place of refuge, but a cauldron of 
whispered tensions among a deepening tragedy of history and evocative lies of 
the breath of wrath that must be emoting in constance.
 In the belly of the beast grows a hunger. 
Earth and still life start to crumble. The eyes of the beast look into a bleeding soul – don’t ever, ever grow old.
 A swimmer gazes under the cold lifeless moon. Tensions rise on the shore of steel knives. Violin strings cut through the wind. Mirrors of blackness - warmth seeps in steep pools - mid winters child learns of white dawn. 
In the boarders set, and a blundering storm of mimicry, before the sights of knives, teeth, and his kneeling stance of predercoutship, we could sense the shifting season arrive, landing on the very night and the poor guy, never feeling a drift from the pools depths come alive.  
COLLAB POEM WITH  JIMMI CANADA

Dreamland

Twilight turns into a thick black velvet blanket, 
Enrobing the senses as through Dreamland we transit.
We are adrift, the limits of everyday life lifted.
Stranded in this passage, with dispelled disbelief we are gifted.
 
It’s a topsy-turvy world wherein our mind,
Ill fitting scenes doth entwine and unwind.
Solving problems, emoting or visiting souls who’ve passed,
Both observer and observed, at once are we cast.
 
We’re off balance, trying to keep from nightmares, 
From fear, anxiety or intoxicating freedom beyond what we dare.
Expansively time traveling, flying vast distances, although
Marveling at the passing Dreamland below.
 
Daylight dawns amid dissolving dreams.
Both perplexed and refreshed, as we face sunbeams.
Thirsting for tattered tendrils signifying solace.
Resisting gently, we are beached onto consciousness.
 
How amazing mortals by light are transformed.
As a seamless switch between parallel worlds is performed.
Adding adventure to even hum drum everyday life,
Our passage through twilight to daylight is rarely without strife.
 
M. Renee Taylor
4-12-13
Form: Sonnet

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