Long Exposed Poems
Long Exposed Poems. Below are the most popular long Exposed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exposed poems by poem length and keyword.
Bearing in my back the ache of the day
I step in the bath and turn on the tap
to add hot water, stretch my legs away
before I wash my limbs and creases, slap
and scratch the scourer over front and bum.
Then feeling cleaner I collapse and lie
down for warmth, leaving exposed knees and tum.
The ache's still there - I sense it in my thigh.
Trying to relax in spite of feeling pain,
with posture prone eventually I adjust
my legs to find relief and ease the strain.
My torso warmed my soul in God does trust:
The knees that would have bent and knelt to pray
are raised in praise of Christ's Baptismal way.
Through Baptism we enter into Christ's suffering believing we shall rise again into new life with him.
Dumbfoundedness still prevails three weeks later...
when held spellbound courtesy grifter
Flim-flam man left lasting emotional whiplash
his derelict perfected artifice
to hijack every last cent
smarted me with indelible smash;
living daylight delivered I kidney you not
envious affliction affecting
last named member and founder of the Byrds
with crosby, stills, young and nash
entire corporeal being turned to hash
condemned state yours truly relegated,
cuz cremation unaffordable, though pulverized
and transformed into powdery ash;
Impossible mission to conceptualize
transmutation into cremains, the brain
lodged within me noggin
ill equipped to envision mine gray matter
even after asking mister Google to explain
that cremation takes place
in a specially designed furnace,
referred to as a cremation chamber or retort,
and exposed to extreme temperatures –
up to 1,800 degrees Fahrenheit–
leaving behind only ashes.
Following the procedure,
a cooling period required
before the remains can be handled.
Yours truly can best attest,
when succumbing as victim to virtual heist
I most likely flip flopped
into one percent atavistic Neanderthal state;
a surprising revelation
23andme genotyping results
yielded said presence of proto human
after analyzing DNA
courtesy saliva sample from eldest sister.
No other logical satisfactory explanation doth chime
lapsed consciousness, hence reasonable rhyme
whereat one twenty first century mortal man
virtually travelled in time
cast into nasty, shortish brute
obliging deft inducement
outsourcing valuable dough.
Though aforementioned far-fetched notion
smacks of high skepticism,
yet no more ridiculous than
hominids over bajillion years springing forth
from flotsam and jetsam in the ocean
I may as well broach another theory of creation
(just came to my mind),
that divine omnipotent wizard
sprinkled magic potion
across primordial sea
after watching an advertisement promotion
claiming said product
contained the seeds of life and white lily.
Convinced that snake oil salesman
wrought deleterious influence
triggering a debacle that rocked
the financial market,
(albeit constituting one singular naked ape),
an attorney general based in Philadelphia
believes I presented a convincing case,
which hopefully witnesses
recouping all or most of my funds.
Tears are falling like Victoria fall
soul is deafening to comfort's call
no man cries out loudest unless
he has been beaten beyond compromise by distress.
Lips dancing to the rhythm of shame
exposed to salty tears , who is to blame
no man chooses Salt upon his palate unless
his money cannot afford happiness cause its priceless.
Trapped in idleness like a little canary
finding solace in loneliness for a whole century
no man would want to be left in pain of self silence unless
freedom is free as the sting of buzzing bees.
Gracious God hear my prayer
for am weak, feeble and tender
come strengthen and make me strong
gracious God please hear my prayer.
As I lay alone pondering in bed
You know very well this is in your head
Your thoughts of me were totally exposed
All of my feelings shared now a door that's closed
My efforts to give you happiness in reserve
Hind site 20/20 was always more then you deserve
Like the distruction of a hurricanes wake
Were you ever in my corner for heavens sake
The fitting end you wanted is what you got
Heart felt feelings all but lay in rot
As you find yourself empty inside
My arms no longer your sanctuary to hide
You told me once that I was "nothing special"
What is sad, your heart was just a broken vessel!
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfilment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece
There once was a girl
In the Coppertone ad
And her dog pulled her bathing suit down;
So her pale little butt
Was exposed by the mutt
Though the rest of her body looked brown.
It was harmless and sweet
And offensive to none
So for years it made Coppertone's name;
But society's changed
And for people deranged
What was innocent's not quite the same.
Now the Coppertone girl,
While her doggie still tries
To perform the same stunt he once did,
Looks abashed, but for what?
For this time he had not
Been successful at making his bid.
Though his little teeth nip
At her suit, he cannot
Bare her tush for the whole world to see.
It's a sign of the times
That because of some crimes
What was cute once no longer can be.
Scars, like lace etchings, a pattern
Rippling indentations against porcelain skin,
What is that? I ask her, never quite
So humble as my heart when she pulls her arm
Away, like a secret not ready to be opened,
An ache not quite ready to be known
By anyone who might criticize or judge,
Anyone who might see the decorative design,
The shape of clever lines, so foolishly sketched,
Carved into delicate flesh with who could know…
Whatever tools she must have used, a knife –
Most likely a knife, yet it could have been something
Smoother, like a razor blade… sharp and willing
Against the tenderest flesh, the feeling bringing
Release from a mind, unbending – a mind, pleading
For the relief.
The act of cutting bringing respite from the pain,
The heartaches with their own stealthy blades,
Cutting into the soft flesh of a heart, like stilettos
Puncture the black earth, leaving hasty wounds,
The bleeding earth never promises to settle, healing
From the rupture the way weeping flesh, bleeds
As she blinks back the tears…
Seeing only the liberation, the freedom that comes
From slicing through the surface of her skin,
Exposing the inner demons that breathe easier
When the wound has exposed her anguish,
Leaving marks for the world to see, indications
For you and me – inscriptions beckoning, whispering
Into the silent night, erasing the throbbing of emotions,
Washing away the sensitivity with the subtle hint
Pain bleeding out its answers through the gash,
A laceration, filled with feelings that won’t last –
Feelings who sing of darkness and doubt,
Feelings who are mysteries of the fragile heart,
The heart who will reconcile, one day it will mend
only…
Will it still feel? Will this cutter ever genuinely heal?
Grace answers this with a resolve that feels like
Yes, etched into her flesh… Yes, God can reconcile
The only scars written on her flesh as her heart
Is returned to its best… with Him beside her,
There is the promise that she’ll be a survivor!
Twisty Pine
Trying to stand tall
With all scars exposed
Carved and gouged
Like the twisty pines
Bled slowly for their essence
Among a forest of disfigured
Unbandaged
Left to cry out forgotten tears
Of neglected fears
In silent slumbers asleep
Where dreams dissolve like sand
Through an infinity-glass
Dripping sweat into boiling oil
Like sap funneling into a brass cup
All to fuel this ceaseless machine
Called the foolish capitalist scheme
Where we self-victimize
And trust the political guise
To save us from our lies
While committing genocides
Right in front of our very eyes
And we milk the desperate
Chastise the disparate
Falsely loft the corporate
Empower the degenerates
Trying to stand tall
With my guts exposed
Scorched and brittle
Like the twisty pines
Bleeding through the burns
Among a forest of dismembered
Disbanded
Left to wait out the final years
As the inevitable collapse nears
In violent numbers they reap
Where teams divide the land
Like a supremacist class
Skipping threats, despoiling the soil
To tap crumbling veins until she dries up
All to fuel a caustic regime
Call all fools to prop this smokescreen
Time to self-aggrandize
At the cost of innocent lives
Teaching our children to despise
Without knowing where the hate truly lies
Why be real when you can pretend to be wise?
Trying to stand tall
With my roots exposed
Eroded and diseased
Like the twisty pines
Gripping to the ground
Among a forest of fallen
Decomposing
Left to die out with my broken peers
As earthen truth disappears
May my essence travel through the mycelium
Before the planet becomes a mausoleum
Transforming the scheme into a coalescence
Transmuting a dream into future’s presence
I walk alone on a misty winter morn
Through fields of brilliant white, which they now beautifully adorn
Clumps of frozen grass scrunching stiffly underfoot
This crisp winter chill, ever so sharply does it cut
Fallen foliage has gathered upon my path
Next year’s nutrition will be the aftermath
Bird nests are now visible within skeletal trees
All of a sudden exposed to the frigid winter breeze
My fingers numb, my little nose is so red
All gods creatures tackling the winter dread
Once green plant life now veiled in white
The persistence of life, so resilient in its fight
Snow gently falling like a fantasy dream
Picturesque rooftops blanketed in vanilla cream
The sky was a misty haze, not a cloud to be seen
Like an all-encompassing canopy screen
A grandma struggles along frozen streets
On a quest to retrieve some Christmas treats
She battles through the numbing snow
A week's worth of groceries all in tow
Santa readies himself, way up in Lapland
As children across the world watch the minute hand
Parents hoping all will go as planned
While outside, a magnificent white winter wonderland
I often stand out at night, as snow falls delicately upon me
Like crystalline stars descending from the heaven's glory
A unique snowflake for every creature great and small
A simple snowflake, one for all
I didn’t mean to invade her privacy,
I was simply taking the trash out late that night;
I never noticed how from the back of the house
You could see right into her bedroom when she turned on the light.
The curtains were sheer and not completely closed,
Her silhouette was outlined and her flesh exposed;
I am not a peeping Tom but in my tracks I froze,
Watching her tantalizingly removing her clothes.
She stood in front of her full length mirror;
I inched a little closer to see her clearer.
It was as if she was even teasing herself,
Slowly undressing and watching her own reflection;
Her fingertips caressing the smooth exposed flesh;
Her exhibition demanded my full attention.
She is twenty-five years old and my neighbor’s daughter;
I am twice her age and a little bit more;
I know I am wrong to be standing here watching
But a more beautiful nubile I’ve never seen before.
Her clothes are now strewn on the floor by her feet,
She is totally naked and pleased by the sight;
Slowly she turns looking over her shoulder,
Making sure all of her parts are shaped just right.
God must be very angry at me,
But, God created this wondrous beauty.
She took inventory of body parts with both of her hands,
Pleasing herself with her delicate touch;
I knew that I should be turning away;
I was enjoying her exploring a bit too much.
She kissed her own reflection returned in the mirror
Then turned and walked toward the windows;
Just before pulling down the night shade
She waved to me hiding in the shadows.
Ashamed of myself and embarrassed by my actions,
I returned to my house all alone;
She knew I was watching and vexed by her beauty,
It was me she was teasing all along.
Yet it brought back memories of when I was younger
And my wife more beautiful than she;
Although I’m a widower for seven long years,
That night, again my bride was with me.