Long Exhalation Poems
Long Exhalation Poems. Below are the most popular long Exhalation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exhalation poems by poem length and keyword.
the music plays
our feet tap dance
to the rhythm we sway
ego fades in playful dalliance
lovers with hearts melded holding hands
pheromones innocently intermingling
joy throb mind cannot understand
magnetic current scintillating
we watch day shift to night
scarlet canvas in slow exhalation
no words remain to depict our delight
as ambedo trance becomes our meditation
sensory pleasure surrendered to the flow
wherein the subject and object merge
childlike exuberance in play mellow
experiences a vibrant bliss surge
simply present in the continuum
embracing and releasing each pulse
each node within form a joy sensorium
heightened rapture our being does engulf
identity vaporised we no longer weigh and size
the thinking process but a body instrument
rested since narrowness stifles surprise
celebrating life without abatement
equal in both pain and pleasure
consciousness fulcrum in the void
stagnating not yet each breath treasure
mode embrace hold release always overjoyed
Gods love inpours filling all chasms in our form
owing to simplistic erect aspect allowing
bliss currents envelope us in swarms
love and light within blossoming
moment to moment thus complete
flow through life with nonchalant ease
one with the That oneness with bliss replete
unending is celebration as the breeze does tease
08-April-2021
He studies the dinner card,
ticks off the boxes for Jell-O
and fruit cups; anticipates a deliciousness
that he will later swallow mechanically
on a plastic spoon.
He’s fascinated by his own breath;
tasting it on the exhalation, savoring a coolness,
as lungs struggle to filter
the chemical soup of the ward.
He imagines sipping an effervescent sky,
pouring it through a revitalized body. Shivers,
as fingertips recall tactile experiences.
He turns on his side, curls up into himself.
The skin of his curved spine delicately corrugated.
A nurse checks his chart, adds a note.
She does not record
a swaddling pall covering his flesh
within which his wife, dog, even a 1958 Plymouth
coddles him in a chrome enclosure for memories.
At night, he enters a potting shed
A place evolved from sweet tobacco, string
and dark red begonias.
From a gun-metal tin,
he takes a small Swiss Army knife,
scrapes a yellow clay from under his fingernails.
He waters psychic seeds
with the milky drops of his dreaming eyes.
By dawn plasmid tendrils will have sprouted,
they will bind up all his loose ends,
then he will drift like a gibbous moon
over the rib-sprung hollow of his bed.
My sad, deplorable glory is a nightmare for another
This knowing is sickening to the bone
The need for anothers' pain is like a virus
Slitting the veins of truth and delirious want of false
Watching the bile flow through
I emptied a full, sorrowful glass for you
Without even a moment’s glance
Your parched lips opened to drink
But like poison the sustainable exhalation surrounded your body
I shrank at the shrieks of your disquietude
Not knowing what to do
Expression died with the loss of flow
I couldn’t flourish in the bleak winters of your loss
I couldn’t grow
All happiness in a flash of susceptibility
Turned to woe
I gave into thinking it was all an unworthy dream
But the answers, the symbolism was never clear
The loss of your very soul is what I fear
I never meant to poison you in what I take as nourishment
And here now you rot
At the expense of these sad, empty tunes
They must mean close to nothing to you
Pain
Pain
Why do I revolve around the pain?
The empty glass of your spirits remains stained
With the insides of all things true
Torn away
Smothered in a ghostly, ghastly gore
I couldn’t see you could not take it
The sorrow I meant to erase to fake it
But instead make it
The reason I live is to sing for you
To disintegrate the swelling blue
But instead I crawled into your only space
Leaving only disgrace
The gore splattering in jewels across your face
I’ll tell you what
All my achievements are naught
They are only fakes
I am nothing without God’s grace
I spurt with illegitimate words and tunes
That you can never face!
As if by the heaven I inspired
I am drunken with your bile
Of pride risen above the mile
What is this sadness—
This anger, this madness?
Show me what to do
Show me what to say
I’ll dispose of all vagaries I dared to feel today
And replace it with pain
Replace it with pain
Discordance from another is my nightmare smothered
And this the majority crave
The need—the desire for acknowledgement
We will take it to the grave
I never wanted heartless fame
A poison in a cup
I never wanted anything
Only to fill you up
I poured the glass and there it came
Just sad, tired air
Nothing left to give you
Not even the sentiment of a stare
The truth is I am scared
The truth is I am scared
I guess, at times we are all. . .
Not there
7/13/13
19.3
“Where is past and future,
or even present?
Where is space, or even eternity?
I abide in the glory of Self”
Verse revisited on 23-April-2022
_________________________
Sans thought flow that marks time
With stillness blurring boundaries of space
All that remains is the magnetic bliss throb sublime
Inner eye beholding divine light, soft white, by His grace
Having chosen to experience sharp contrast of duality
We celebrate even our illusion of seeming delusion
Recognising each exhalation our form’s fatality
Divine centric awareness has no confusion
With each breath intake the world appears
Sans thought interference, we just feel by touch
Melding with the flow, on exhalation it all disappears
For the offered dream experience, we thank God very much
As the one chose to become two and the two then so many
Our expanded consciousness recognises but oneness
Thus all we see but a burst of thought epiphany
Wherein we’re aglow in vibrant blissfulness
Hostages kidnapped: casualties of war
After extorting pound of flesh
lifetime humiliation drummed into captives
hammering indelible nightmare
no amount of therapy can expunge.
Lifetime trauma inflicted perpetrators wage
dead bodies littered makeshift triage
death and destruction
exhibit super fresh killing fields,
where sally forth set pathmark
to abominable gut wrenching
ghastly hollow hellscape.
Haunting horrid macabre scenes assault,
batter, clobber, et cetera the senses
death construed as mutual
(of Omaha) collateral damage
fallout populated by zone of dead bodies
littering apocalyptic landscape
rendering spooky morbidly fascinating,
especially from safe vantage point
bajillion miles away
whereby yours truly
hunched over his Macbook Pro laptop
glanced the headlines without further delay
aid convoys moving into Gaza Strip
a tepid hip hip hooray
impossible mission for
overactive imagination of artist
or writer to capture bedlam and melee,
scaring up heavenly sight
for grim reaper soirée
repository for skull and crossbones
as arid (extra dry) winds hasten desiccation
whistling repartee (even from afar)
faintly resembling mourning of Zalay.
Countless hungry ill clad masses beg
the question regarding
purposefulness of mortal kombat
screaming in agony against cutthroat
belligerents who gleefully gloat
laying waste besieging
ship of state and emergency lifeboat
senselessly bombing spelling
likelihood for peace on earth remote
silencing the lambs and yellowthroat!
Methinks spouting protestation
against loosed strife,
courtesy demoniac *****sapiens
where talking heads strategize foo fighters
pointless exhalation of breath
sabotaging, shortchanging, siccing,
squashing, subjecting, et cetera
innocent bystanders ultimately hastening them/
they to untimely and unfair nasty,
shortish and brutal death
linkedin to personal choice of deity
and attendant religious shibboleth.
Relax, count my breath up to 4
Recall how Jesus chilled on His cross
Pinned like a cool butterfly
Hung like a shroud on the line
The crown of thorns felt fine
The nails betwixt ulna and radius divine
He didn't mind nails in metatarsals
He declined the sour wine to keep his wits
I want to learn how to chill like Him
Relax, take in the 1st breath
Inhale and let my soul hang loose
Positive pressure dispels worries
Let go years of misdirections
Did he know he had 3 more breaths?
Disown the tomatoes thrown in disgust
Own tensile betrayal lurking in the mind
Be like a baby’s skin when calm
I wish I knew how to relax on high
Relax, exhale and count to 2
Release all worries that bind
My agitation only finds rest in you
Remember me on the cross beside you
Me, 2 thieves watching your grace
I see you take your final breath
Equanimity hung on the clothesline
Careless to His resurrection assured
Why have you abandoned me?
Relax, inhale for the 2nd time
Let my echo chamber take in 3
Gather desperate cries to be unpinned
Be 1 of 2 thieves breathing next to Him
1 thief writhes mocking Christ
The other thief in me fears God
He says to me we’ll be in paradise
Comfort me when You’re uncomfortable
Your promise of relaxation is foreign
Relax, exhale the number 4
Release my final breath like Him
Count each breath till I let go of 4
Bring to bear the recycled sequence
Enumerate the stations of the cross
If I’m the thief on Golgotha that day
Make me the 1 sinister to Him
Hang me fresh like a serpentine sheet
Loosed from clothespins spinning round
When Jesus annoints me unrelaxed
I start counting to find the numbers
When I find no solace in 4's exhalation
I count back to 1 to find no1's home
If only I could find equanimity in 0
If a thief could trust his promise
Then I, too, could relax on my cross
I could also say I'm finished for now
Just like Jesus relaxing in the breeze
Relax, everything is enumerated
Each breath is numbered by the Father
Surely, I can learn to relax on my cross
the best part of any day for me is watching you undress
your body is like the relief of deep exhalation after a hard day's work
admiring your beauty has a deeper meaning than the directness of my ********
it is a reminder of what God has blessed me with....and what He could take away
hesitation as a form of teasing never felt so refreshing or mild
the calmness of your laid back style drives me surprisingly wild
taking it slow with you is equal to new roots to a personal dream long deferred
in its own little way it helps supplant the permanence of a solid foundation
that being said, don't say a word right now
just smile and enjoy me watching you undress
I comfortably position
derriere with pride
(all cheekiness ass side)
lightly seat dated, inside
ideally with bifocals removed,
recalling "Plato's allegory of the caves,"
where everything espied
a blur, more so (from mine
severe myopia) conjures
dark shadows flickr ring across,
the edge of night - stride
rite across dreamy field of vision,
no matter (despite)
superfluous squinting briefly applied
across webbed whirled wide
universe till ocular orbs
instagram, snapchat, and
shutterfly, lids slowly slide
shut, whence immediately
dark doth light divide
consummate relaxed mindset
frame imbued, and imbibed,
where gentle existential
awareness dost glide
ever so nonchalantly,
my consciousness of self I abide
faintly effortlessly breathing n'er decide
ding nor discriminating spontaneous
notions nothing intruding denied,
flitting to and fro, hither and yon
of each inhalation and exhalation,
then, aye approximate,
I imagine an analog clock
some few minutes elapse,
when minute hand silently sweeps,
re: completing micro orbitz ride
ding tiny armature nsync as thought
processes soundlessly, mindlessly,
and independently elide
into mild trance send dint altered state
akin subtle difference,
where engaged bachelorette
becomes a bartered, bettered,
and buttered bride
likewise with meditation disembodied self
ascends cerebral cortex
figuratively lapping - sea ming lee
asper gentle timeless tide
buoyed by bobbing
mantra setting placidity
wordlessly teasing, massaging, and
evoking enchanting ecstasy
motioned via film meant invisible guide.
Pre-puberty years
Playful innocence
Warm ready embrace
Quarrels, aberrations
Rapidly erased
An uncluttered mind
Open, forgiving heart
Reborn each morn anew
Growing up, ego manifests
Taught to be street smart
Testosterone levels high
Feral instincts prevail
In the game of one-upmanship
Need to win our obsession
Heart shrouded in darkness
Conscience whispers in dreams
Upon expending our energy
Recognising earth life transience
We look at dark thought spirals
A Frankenstein we created
Remorseless devouring our soul
We are astonished and dismayed
Looking at these sunken vibrations
We have chosen to stagnate in
To erase negativity from its roots
We stop the flow of turbid thoughts
By shifting our attention inwards
Into the hidden recesses of our heart
In time stretched stillness and silence
Negating the oscillations that surface
Until we become a rippleless lake
Choosing to remain for eternity thus
In timeless time, the false falls away
Fulcrum of our consciousness, space
Our mind-body now an empty shell
Cleansed of erst ego borne dark stains
Reveals from deep within our heart
Our true self shining, bubbling with bliss
Magnetised by the healing light divine
Suffusing all nodes with ecstatic rapture
Boundaries blur between others and us
We feel underlying interconnectedness
Recognising in time that love alone real
All other vibrations but thought constructs
Entrapping our attention in myriad illusions
Plunging our consciousness in delusion
Thus we meld head with heart and love
Twice born here now in the flesh, erect
Earth dream life yet plays on in as ordained
We enact our role in resonation with love
Our vaporised self is immune from harm
Simply because there is no identity within
That that is, is a bliss mist, a living light
Empowered by the sublime breath of God
Thus we inhale vital life force with gratitude
With exhalation in simplistic childlike surrender
16-October-2021
Protective Lyricism for the Ages Part One
In awe of Bob Dylan’s poetic creations
The war of the villains eccentric provocations
The score of penicillin for preventative medications
The law of premonitions filled with the Holiest vibrations
Refusal to compromise when faced with an ethical question
The commercially incentivised disgrace of advertisements ill-intentions
The indisputable power of a loving embrace when the refurbishments aren’t up to the standards of new inventions
The irrefutable cower of a man without grace when the admonishments he faced are beyond redemption
A placement of perfection by William Wordsworth in his sleep
The boy who cried wolf when he lied about the safety of his sheep
The friend who transcends proof, one so pure you just have to treasure and keep
A challenge from a sleuth so obscure that you’re forced to take an original leap
A visionary that’s borderline scary as the invocations constantly vary
Some people are wary of what they do not understand
Some view complexity as quite contrary as it flows from the palm of my hand
I’m an honorary poetic canary singing what might be viewed as illuminary perspectives on which I will take a stand
But humility prevents me from accepting this undeserved title
As the human races need for pure oxygen becomes vital
You won’t see me at a self-promoting poetry recital
As I hide behind my anonymity I’ve died a thousand times and need a personal revival
A sigh of profound exhalation and meaning
From a soul that resounds in contemplation and dreaming
The story’s told by the rounds of improvisation expressed through sunlight beaming
While I’m growing old and stifling the sounds of my terror, fears and screamings
To be continued next post…