Long Escapism Poems
Long Escapism Poems. Below are the most popular long Escapism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Escapism poems by poem length and keyword.
is a cheap hollow
chocolate bunny
that doesn’t even taste good
from the outside.
Living is not captured
in smiles or poses or
perfected moments
jumping on a beach
in white with all the relatives,
or partying and being bedazzling
when you are 20-some
for strangers and followers
whom you don’t know
and will forget you tomorrow
(or when you become redundant,
boring, older,
or just too real
for comfort
or probing publicity).
I want the pretty.
I want escapism.
I want to see
what I can’t see
from my lackluster
backyard, where the
bird feeders
are always empty
and the garden shed
is an eyesore.
Just write poetry.
Just keep writing
and dreams will come.
A short road back to misery
to self-loathing and acknowledgement of a cocoonish dystopia
walked with rotten teeth, fending off fever dreams.
It has been a while since the void had consumed
the remnants of light within.
And yet the haggard desperation of building a dam
ushers back memories.
The carapace is familiar against the skin.
Animated with the life of its own
it embraces its parasitic nature
and laughs for the world.
There was love in those stretched moments of utter escapism,
and joy and ecstasy of material gain,
pride thrived in radiating eyes
as life found meaning both in sacred and profane.
Things that had to go have long gone,
things that belong here will remain forever.
Acceptance can only come in such inertia.
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Date: 22/10/2018
socialism communism fascism despotism
buddhism catholicism hinduism zoroastrianism
territorialism colonialism imperialism expansionism
positivism relativism behaviorism existentialism
adventurism escapism negativism nihilism
puritanism fanaticism extremism terrorism
sexism chauvinism ultra-nationalism jingoism
hedonism epicureanism ~ stoicism asceticism
patriotism heroism altruism idealism
activism idealism individualism exceptionalism
atheism deism monotheism paganism
optimism pessimism cynicism romanticism
atheism secularism humanism utopianism
hypnotism mysticism exorcism surrealism
~ and what if there were a schism in each and every 'ism!'
What are we feeling.? In us, I address the whole of humanity.' Where are we destined or
Are we bound.? Or are we just bound.? By an ology of idealisam.? Isams idols icons; isas
I put that in for good measure..! do we know what we need? Or do we exist in greed.? Or
For it.? What is destiny.? Did we miss it yesterday.? Like a train station overflown by a plane.'
An aero-bar of trouble' life melting as you try counting it's bubbles, it's a task.. life's class
Hard knocks, was told to me, I didn't feel much when it hit me, just a numbness sort of took me
Across a chasm, chamber; deep sea.. Turbulent blurbulent jingles expound insane grounds
Genocide is sold like escapism; I now beleive..! yet I will not succumb to it's siren pleas as it's
Klaxon is wound, by men and women in white garb, with cards round their necks; on lanyards
Madly winding on its ' handle they've exhorted whined manhandled' any ploy or many.'
To snare bamboozle plenty, billions in the image, they projected, purposed pilloried oh so many
Lives are ruined..By these loons I'm still pursuing.. I will never stop expounding, the type of
Lies; they'll be found out in.' Ever; ever. ' will I hound them; as truth indeed will pound them
Until I pass from this earth, I will try to be of more worth, for I know there is true living as
The Lord provides; is giving.. Death do not forsake me bring me to the feast prepared for me
Where all is shining golden, and a silver sheen is showing, there's life alone in Jesus, who as
Our Father asked will lead us' into joy that passes knowing so neglected now in college's
BE AWAKE I CRY IN KNOWLEDGE, THAT TO GOD ALONE DO HOMAGE, TO ENTER IN THE
LIFE GATE, FOR WITH JESUS AS YOUR SOULMATE, YOU WILL NEVER GO THROUGH HELLS GATES.'
As they hurried to the door, the sounds of laughter and shouts from outside faded but never completely disappeared. They could still hear the teenagers chanting and the Bunny making sarcastic comments to keep the situation wierd. Their distraction technique was working, but they knew they couldn’t linger. Gus looked at Penney, who farted
again, because his berating look, lingered.
Gus inserted the key into the lock, and with a satisfying click, the door swung open to reveal a new challenge: a room filled with sparkling lights and a shimmering floor that looked like a galaxy of stars. Hanging above were various musical instruments—an odd assortment indeed, from ukuleles to maracas to instruments of torture and bdsm.
“This place is amazing!” Penney exclaimed, her spirits lifted by the sensory overload. “But how are we going to solve the next puzzle?”
Suddenly, a loud thud reverberated from the room they had just escaped. Michael's voice boomed through the door. “You can’t hide forever, Penney! I’ll get you, I'll get you a free bus ride to Butler Pennsylvania!”, it blurted.
“Time’s running out!” Gus said as a tingle of panic shot through him. “We need to make music together!" Penney's eyes lit up. "Maybe that’s the key!”
Gus dashed to the nearest instruments. Penney a bit bummered out, grabbed a maraca while Gus took hold of a be-dazzling tambourine. With an improvised beat, they tapped and shook, creating a rhythm that filled the room. Just as they began to lose themselves in the music, the room responded; the walls shimmered brighter, and notes floated into the air, intertwining with the delicate air raisin like sounds they created.
Suddenly, the floor lit up, revealing a beautiful pattern that corresponded with their tune. It was clear now—they needed to hit the right notes to unlock the next door. They took a deep breath and focused.
With every shake and strum, they gradually deciphered a melody, one not only full of life and attention but filled with intention—an anthem of escapism against Michael’s looming threat. As the final note echoed, a door on the opposite end of the room slid open.
I don’t usually talk about a club, in the club
but last night I was chattering breathlessly, at midnight,
about how right the club had gotten its atmosphere.
I’m never quite sure, design-wise, what’s ‘now’ and what’s retro nuance.
My bf Peter said the design was “Warholism,” whatever THAT is.
I gave him a puzzled look and he said. “The Factory?” Like that meant something.
Why is he so much smarter than me? It’s unjust.
Lets wax poetically..
The drinks were priced like artifacts
but we ordered them like essentials.
A club is a machine calibrated for pleasure.
Similar to real life, but with much better lighting
plus their decors are tuned to optimistic escapism.
Last night’s club, was all chrome and blue light
making us feel like we were on a spaceflight
Clubs hit escape velocity around midnight
when everyone’s having their own garish moment
- crowds roll in on the vibe, and things warm up.
When moving on the floor started to feel like work
we escaped the ordinary for the cooler mezzanine
We arrived as our drinks were being freshened up
I tip well and they’re happy to manage my money
It was a good thing. Our generation doesn’t know
how to wait without looking like we’re waiting.
BTW: Don’t you LOVE anti-spiking drink covers?! #justbrilliant
ok, now it’s Saturday morning
My head is pounding, as if someone were striking it,
every thirty seconds or so, with a timpani malot.
“That was the LAST time..” I moan, but I was being ironic.
I know it’s not true, Peter knows it’s not true, I know, he knows,
I know it’s not true - but he gets my meaning - that’s irony.
Peter never seems to have a hangover and at times it pisses me off.
“How do you feel,” I ask him in my smallest voice - lest I awake the timpanist.
“Fine,” he says, with an enjoyable sense of righteousness.
He sips his coffee as if he has not a care.
“You’re only fine because your head is empty,” I lash out in a whisper.
.
.
A song for this:
Can't Tame Her by Zara Larsson
Tears by Sabrina Carpenter [E]
.
[E] = Explicit lyrics
*Image of Julius Caesar by QDT.
The Ides of March
Spun spells pummel our Earth ... as a Sun scanned absence swallow,
vacuumed blues taxes light once deemed eternal ... plus righteousness,
escapism from existence ... edges evacuation,
Birth ere the latter days ... ventured the laurels that were Rome,
the incarnation of iniquity ... masquerade innocence,
like clovers and thistles ... lure eyes above the common grass,
Furtherance besought ... midst tossed bone for multi contentment,
parades that paralyze souls ... usurp minds to sweeping abandon,
celebratory hails the seasoned ... emblem of power,
The gods and goddesses' palms of warring pulse ... 'tis peacetime,
nonetheless ... tributes adorn the temples of Mars in abundance,
'tis time of awash hands of mere grimes ... toxic suffers freely,
Citizens housed upon Palatine ... the triumphant hill,
felicitations honorable legions ... protectors of Rome,
promissory constants ... declared Remus per Romulus,
Roman Senate played a chess game ... Caesar kept them in check,
every move was scrutinized ... made vulnerable and powerless,
autocracy trumps democracy ... seeds gangocracy,
Plans are planted within plans ... schemes are shrouded inside schemes,
the beast entrails read ominously ... Spurina forewarns the marked,
timely debts to be paid in full ... matters to be settled,
At the Courts of Pompey ... the assembly awaits for him,
armorless donning senatorial garb ... metals pierce a man,
till mute ... last recalls *haruspex, "Beware the Ides of March".
*Haruspex; reading of omens from the entrails of sacrificed animals. The subject of Shakespeare's title play came from his thorough accounting of Plutarch's writings.
2022 March 30
*1st Place*
This or That, Vol 11
~~Edward Ibeh: Judged 2022 April 22
*HMS; 14,16,14 syllables per x 8 stanzas
I'm a clothes addict, my flow's magic
8 miles underground to choke rabbits
Nose habit that grows when I overdose
But speak truth so it shrinks like Pinochio
Take lines a pony won't, stay unstable
Experiment, opperate and lay on tables ..
These tricky statements fold, into quick replacements for the old
To begin they're scorching cold, but then turn into more to mould
I think with thoughts I stole, and feel my mind's out worn its roll
A brain damaged and strained stands in the way of former goals
Never pushed to measure up just taught to absorb your faults
So for the folks who enter escapism I'll be the corpse with bolts
If I launch this boat it'll be almost swollen til I've torn it open
And I appreciate appreciation exchanging nothing for the token
Just your normal poet only with a mouth that pours the ocean
Floating words travel motions that suggest the oars are broken
I hope the world absorbs the notion so this floors not soaking
But I had to make it evaporate so these dam walls are smoking ..
ESCAPISM
In pyramids we finger attunements
or activations as love dances across
threads lost
Time of no consequence when past,
present and future ripples into your
Andromedan locks
Form changes from green to gold
or bronze to white with pale blue webs
It matters not
Gaia knows when to laugh
or cry, blossom or die
You read fairy tales
with drumbeats
Shakti curling up snugly
to sleep
I touch a fiery eagle landing
on my claustrum crown
with the same issues of
escapism
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song
2021
It's easier,
To believe darkness is external,
Outside our eyes.
God placed it,
Within the kindness of us,
Ignorance and gluttony in disguise.
The facade,
Part of it was...
Believing it was outside of us.
Endless purpose,
Permanently lost in turbulence,
Escapism and Lust.
Topics in a pipeline,
Darkness keeping us busy,
Easier to judge the over there.
City to city,
Plains and through the mountains,
A tether between our hearts we share.
Fusion between layers
Dimensions colliding alongside life experience,
Moving forward while feeling like losing.
Billions of mirrors,
Whether a fraction only,
Incomprehensible potential for lessons of the choosing.