Long Exoskeleton Poems
Long Exoskeleton Poems. Below are the most popular long Exoskeleton by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exoskeleton poems by poem length and keyword.
The idealistic horrors, go dancing through my heart
Pulling my muscles and my veins apart
Dancing with demons, I spin in a trance
My feet and my legs step to the beat of this dance
Under my flesh, the weakness seeps through my skin
Poisoning my insides --- making my life the deadliest sin
Dizzy and brainwashed, I stop the eternal spinning
Feeling the lessons --- in what’s left of my brain --- slowly imprinting
Lost and alone, left for dead and deprived
Learning this new path --- mistakenly arrived
The emptiness and unconsciousness of my exoskeleton shell
The lost and forgotten Isle of Nothingness I will dwell
The soulless inside of the deepest parts of me
Something that not even the oracle could foresee
The ever-changing fate that constantly changes in my life
Prevents me from being his perfect wife
The demons I face on my journey through this life
Finds myself around corners of nothing but pain and strife
The fiery flames leap up and they lick
Hitting the pool balls of my life with a cue stick
The damage it scars me deeper everyday
The variety of chaos and the colorful array
Chained to this life --- going nowhere fast
Leaves all of my other options completely unsurpassed
So alone I wander through this bottomless pit
Because walking in this life right now I’m definitely unfit…
A black fly in midwinter
has burgled the warm air of the kitchen.
It struggles for height,
a brittle-winged air-bender
reaching for plateaus,
higher footstools,
grasping for spice shelves
or the slope of a slick cooker hood.
The splutter
of an over-revved engine,
the bolted clicking of insectivore plates.
Up it lifts again
turning like a wounded helicopter
only to crash-land
on a dish of cooling porridge.
Mired, it scoops gravity out
from a clogged exoskeleton
staggers to a porcelain edge.
Heavy airfoils battle a steam laden air.
Its weight now cannot be sustained.
It falls to the hard kitchen floor
spins disorientated on its back.
A dervish dance.
Sibilant thunder-claps
of a now dismantled buzzing.
Will it try again
to lift its wreckage?
Between the paused silence
of a ticking wall-clock
a burnt-out fuselage trembles.
Nothing disembarks.
Radiant beaches with a tropical tangerine sky
Always wondering & asking myself why
Reenacting the days we could've flown
If bravely to each other we just would've shown
A mystery of memories jumbled in our hearts
Eventually we lost our memories - the further we became apart
Those dampened memories of kissing you after dark
The message in the stars - where I wrote your name
So brilliantly written - like a quatrain
Like the moon lit up on your face
Every inch of your body - with my fingertips I'll trace
I wish we weren't so closed up & obsolete
I wanna find each other again - our vacation retreat
I wanna take a break with you - know you all over again
I wanna rekindle things - with my best friend
When once so opened - you always talked to me
Now I feel I'm a ball & chain - & I won't set you free
But what if I said I wanted it more serious then our first?
Would commitment steer you away - & my time you'll never reimburse?
Just out of curiosity - does anything I mention make sense?
Or am I seeing way too many things past-tense?
Has there been anything (up until now) you didn't know?
Or instead of words, do I need to refresh your memory & show?
Wishing on a star - hoping it'd be true
Has anything I told you been something you already knew?
I wish I would've had more time to sync with you
Darling, you were ALWAYS my rock
Until your heart for me you wouldn't unlock
You knew (to me) our friendship mattered most
But I still wanna know ALL you - & not just your exoskeleton ghost
I sit here pondering the next move as I watch the hour slowly slips away, and chance standing in the horizon muse steadfast at me. It is that little nudge that you get when you are almost out of breath and you try to find something to hold on to but nothing is there and a tiny beetle comes along and start to sing a merry little song.
It is the little things that amuses me, like the mouse playing hide and seek in the art gallery, the spider building a web for its sadistic prey and the cock roach crawling on the wall has caused a great brawl. It only comes out when visitors are in town and starts a commotion all around.
The evening sun is just cooling down and everyone is running around; it drifts at the back of the hill and creates havoc in the street, the people are running around in a frenzy and something peculiar is disrupting my heart beat and I can hardly breath.
Sweat is dripping from my face and my head is getting hot, my clothes is soaked and my feet are burning. The water is running in the stream is warm and something below the surface of the earth is interfering with my dream, I have to go and check it out.
The beetle from the order of Coleoptera,is flying around in the tree with four hundred thousand bugs descending in the open space on thee. It’s hard exoskeleton is fashion to protect its internal organ and resist all external blow they too are getting ready for the big show.
I have traveled this path many times in the sun and rain and each time I travel it’s never the same, sometimes the journey gets longer and my heart gets heavier and chance waits patiently for you to come. It is that moment of waiting when nothing is left I begin to find myself
I have stumbled upon the “art” in me and the courage that is spread out in the ocean before me, and I begin to reason with myself. Just one more chance to go on that trip, Just one more chance to see if you really exist. Just one more chance to get it right, just one more chance to complete this sacrifice.
There is one thing standing between me and you, it is the path that you have to pass through when you close the door; meet me at the junction with a script camera and a bottle of water and you will write that story of how we cross over. Meet me at the junction and chance will take your hand.
I almost trod on it
but then my shoe kinda flinched,
one leg hovered in the air
not wanting to feel or hear that sound.
There’s a large dead cricket
belly-up
three steps down on the stoop.
Yellow-green exoskeleton still vibrant
spidery legs stiff and splayed
in the morning sun.
I know body cavities crunch when turning to dust
I have seen the dead still dying away.
I have seen their exhumed bodies.
I’m not stepping on my truth today.
One fine day all our flesh will be healed;
spiritually formed, vibrant,
fully returned to the many colors of love.
Three steps down from the highest stoop
something real good will be true,
for us I reckon.
I'm smaller and harmless if I'm male
and I have no venom. I'm dangerous
and much bigger if I'm female. It's hard
to tell my sex, so I avoid me all together
Better safe than sorry!
I look innocuous. I'm no bigger than
the size of a Brazil nut, but don't be fooled;
I'm extremely dangerous. My reputation
precedes me. I've been striking fear into
the hearts of men for millennia.
I'm one of the most toxic of all spiders
My venom is much more potent than that
of a rattlesnake's. I'm a weaver of sticky
tangled scaffold webs that I use
to ensnare insects.
My eight legs have hairs and bristles
that is sensitive to vibrations. That's how
I detect prey. I use my pumping abdomen
to spin silk to make webs, bind prey,
and protect their eggs from other critters.
I'm a solitary, patient predator. I spend
most of my life sitting on my web
and waiting for moths, beetles, bugs
flies; I even enjoy a crunchy scorpion
from time to time.
Once trapped, I dart forward and pin them
down. I inject my venom with my sharp fang;
then I suck them dry down to their exoskeleton!
My bite on humans can cause skin blisters
leading to gangrene!
I'm a Black Widow Spider; avoid me at all cost!
Date written: 02/16/2020
I am never alive on a Smile's Journey
That is how I take pictures through views Spritually Presented
The Art through Her Eyes breathes rehabilitation into my wilted assurance
The Sun Shines reflecting perfectly in the Mirror of my Forward Motion
I swim in a sea of never before seen in scenes
that make make me feel a type of Serene
that positively effects the reilluminated sheen
that feels so invigorating, crisp and clean
The Beautification of the Waters Power of Upliftment is like YES!!!!!
in extraordinary snowflakes of Profound Exclamatories.....
She looks Alive in Her Resurrection Sundress,
and She sows the seeds of Light Renewed
Omission and oblivion are relatives of loneliness and misanthropy
Blue and grey are confidantes of depression and its lingering gloom
The blood of the Sky Blue Phoenix drops Tears of Innovative Healing
Life can be the cursive endoskeleton of the exoskeleton of a criminally unsen manuscript
As She Spins Benevolent Renovations in Her Resurrection Sundress.....
An ornamental doe and fawn,
suddenly move. Tails wave, noses nuzzle –
I have mistaken an actuality,
and now am thrown out of my skin.
I’m a millipede of fractal awareness.
I sniff the body-odor of the planet
take inward, then sift out
Australia and Africa.
I pause to dip my face in the River Liffey,
odoriferous waters foam over septum and cranium.
I’m a teaming acre of feelers and heads. Until
an atom of disbelief re-enters its exoskeleton.
The next moment is inevitable;
it is a concrete bunker of inevitability.
I am a stone goblin with a blunt chisel.
Nerve buds are again Saran wrapped.
Oddly, I’m carrying a large red kangaroo
on my shoulders;
it’s demanding to be sent back,
and I would send it back – if I knew how.
Within the shadow of the crystal spires,
Where plains are painted by the frozen fires,
The field-logs track a monument of mass:
The heavy monarch of the golden grass.
Magnatropis vitreus is cataloged and known,
A living fusion of the quartz and bone,
A mountain walking on a six-fold frame
Of polished obsidian that no tool can tame.
Its segmented chassis, wide and heavily set,
Is wrapped in a translucent exoskeleton net,
A diamond-hard carapace, shimmering clear,
Through which its strange organs and vitals appear.
Its blood is a coolant of sapphire sheen,
Pulsing through valves that are easily seen,
While its eyes are bright clusters of compound gems—
Red ruby lenses on low-slung stems—
That do not track distance or predatory flight,
But map out the currents of deep quantum light,
Perceiving the drift of the space-time strand
As it sweeps through the grass of the perfect land.
Yet this titan of armor and crystalline skin
Is not built for malice, for war, or to win;
Its purpose is vital, a biological gear
That stabilizes the local biosphere.
Along its ribbed flanks, where the plates interlock,
Are rows of deep pores carved like vents in a rock.
It breathes in the nitrogen mists of the night,
The volatile vapors that choke out the light,
And filters the toxins through chambers of stone
Deep in the vaults of its vitreous bone.
With every slow breath of its massive domain,
It breathes out sweet oxygen over the plain,
A massive, organic, atmospheric pump,
Clearing the air with each heavy-set thump.
As it browses the plains where the light-flora grows,
It crushes the minerals left by the snows,
Its six grinding hooves tilling silicate sand
To scatter the nutrients across the ground,
A peaceful leviathan, quiet and grand,
It is the gardener-beast as it moves around.
Frosty-glassed windows and fiery eyes
Finally with you after some tries
Rainy day sunshine brighten my smile
Warm us, tropical storm, and stay awhile
Surf the waves through the ocean springs
Jack of the trade and King of all Kings
Wildlife roams in our Earth's abyss
Snow and cold-frosted to the kiss
Rocky mountain high as the emerald trees
Sweeping and piling up Autumn-orange leaves
Windy and dry with our sun so high
Surfing in my imagination on my first try
Silently slipping the seasons to bear
Dry as this is, fires begin to flare
Crystal-gazed snow paths begin to melt
As our Earth rejuvenates it's beautiful health
Rainy muddy puddle's rhythm is a plus one
Please don't stare at our volcanic sun
Blistering heart and silent repeat of what you know
Do me a favor and don't hurt our earth, though
Millions of words to finally be said
Thousands of paragraphs to finally be read
So much knowledge to finally seek
But I need better weather because it's so bleak
So much power to hold in the palm of your hand
But America is running out of free land
Nothing is free because things cost so much
Too many new experiences to let your body adjust
Silent thoughts where no one else can see
No one can ever truly be free
Your body is borrowed and your soul is not yours
Too many locked windows --- too many locked doors
Shape shifting life with your own imagination
To create for you a memorable sensation
So much teaching to still be taught
But too many distractions to finally be fought
Locked away inside your exoskeleton shell
Too far into despair to sit back and dwell
Remembering that time is to beat a clock
To finally escape reality and release this lock
Thousands of chains break the name
But too many to point the finger or blame
Silhouettes of snakes in mirrors of fear
Flame-throwing weapons to finally sear
Destruction shame is quite the haze
Circling in this everlasting maze
Sinister secrets torn from my chest
Reminding myself that life's just a test