Long Exposure Poems
Long Exposure Poems. Below are the most popular long Exposure by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exposure poems by poem length and keyword.
How do I tell you a story
of my broken wings’ glory,
of feathers that still learnt to hold me?
On this solid ground,
survival land
of swords and shields.
How do I reach your treasure,
through heart, without taking your measure,
without assuming your answers?
Free from roles and labelling,
empowering and enabling
your soul to come through.
How do I tell you a story,
embarrassing deeds’ inventory
that I’ve never been proud of?
Share my secrets and sins,
all my daemons’ wins
so you know me imperfect as I am.
I want to know how it feels
without those layers and peels
to be you at the rawest form.
Will you let me in
to the bones of your Being,
where your spirit is waiting to glow?
I have a space in my heart
for you too, to take its part.
I just need you to witness in silence
my pain of toxic shame,
flowing through my veins,
thinking “feelings are for the weakest”.
And when I trip over your painful comments
in those awkward moments,
I’ll still give you a hand when you need me.
Without rescuing and saving,
and your strength depriving
so you can walk alone if you need to.
But we can walk next to each other,
learn to accept one another,
and to respect different pathways to freedom.
So the wings can spread and fly to the highest sky,
And in the full moon, in my comfort zone,
I don’t need to howl alone, not any more!
Devoid of personal exposure to wondrous Spring
I thank God for His bestowed vicarious experience
via technology’s media encounters
enabling me to testify about its majestic delight.
Among the four providentially-designed seasons
Spring’s the best, asserted by scientific studies:
moderate temperatures offer freedom from winter closet
while granting relaxation against scorching summer angst.
More daylight in the Spring allows much to accomplish
ushering toward opportunities for creative pursuits
opening to outdoor exercise routines…
for natural Vitamin D enjoyment and health investment.
Watching avian influx relieves pressure-pain
birds’ melodious songs bring joy of serenity
beholding baby animals banishes stress…
like bunnies and ducklings frolicking with glee.
As leaves come back, they mitigate urban heat
flowers in bloom vibrantly cheer
growing plants waft freshness
with promise of yields for nutrition glow.
My heart praises God for Spring bliss
though I live in the Tropics, unable to witness such…
sufficed with His love, knowing that He has placed me
where my faith can bloom best, by His grace*.
*1Timothy 1:14 And the grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.
April 24, 2022
1st place, "A BRIAN STRAND STANDARD CHOICE" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 4/25/2022.
Beneath the lies is the abyss of all things unknown to others
Experienced by them with their inability to face the truth
Of what they have lived through, seen or done
Protecting each other at all costs, fear of exposure rules
So all this fear based agenda keeps them living a façade
They lie to anyone, everyone, just to keep it all together
As the truth bearer carries the burdens, inside a conscience
All alone, weeps their tears, screams their pain, feels it for them
The very things that lie beneath their lies, the truth bearer carries
--------------------------As they deny -----------------------------
Heidi Sands
2/21/17
*Placed 5th in Contest: What lies beneath the lies
Imagine or actualize that at the bottom of the heart,
there lies a massive storage of feelings yet unspoken.
There's a room of secrets yet untold as we grow old.
They can only be unfolded if we dare to be so bold.
One room is filled with pain and the other with shame.
There is a locked room within another room filled with hate.
We lie awake with heartaches, desiring to open the heavy-gated
hideaways of the heart before the sands of time say, "It's too late".
Remember well that our hearts are deceitful, and who can really tell?
Like the sea, our hearts cast up dirt and mire as she waves and swells.
Remember well that the heart has a shield and it is blocked and locked.
Like God Himself, everyone seeking entry to the heart must stand and knock.
We paint our faces and hide away any traces, and never do we dare.
Wouldn't it be great if these wounds of the heart were free to share?
Open heart exposure to a stranger is more likely than with a friend.
There is an endless number of strangers, but best friends are far fewer.
No, we cannot Xerox, Google, or Facebook these deep matters of the heart.
We long to open our hearts, even though it's covered with fog and very unclear.
We long to unload our heavy hearts, but who can find a trusting ear?
We need to be forgiven, but we are bound by fear.
We need to forgive, but we are frozen by a tear.
We need The Lord, but we fear to draw near.
Since we can clearly see that access to our hearts is rather limited,
And for most of us, gaining an entry to such guarded hearts is off limits,
Perhaps it's best we realize that we can more easily try to listen to each
other's hearts.
Preparing vegetable or fruit salad midst poetic venture
my appetite craves for savory twist
along well-being stature of blissful serenity.
nourished with healthy writing glow...
Let's feast on the richness exuded by a dramatic monologue salad
with fresh raw experiences of human nature as main ingredients
chosen well midst best exposure toward life's realities
blended with whole heart's outpour along wisdom bits...
Mix those with slices of faith-journey phases
earlier immersed into chili-pepper spices
to bring trial and challenges' favored aroma
or have them all sweetened by love-honeyed glaze...
For sumptuous presentation against attacking boredom
hide hypocrisy's temptation over perfect meter or rhythm
through versatility offered by free verse style
flowing along truth and sincerity-bliss...
Another way is to serve such palatably inviting
while breaking monotony along delivery's confidence
by using rhyme that does ring with triumph chime
grateful to God*, expressing blest dramatic monologue zest.
*1Thessalonians 5:18 In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.
February 15, 2026
2nd place, "Poetic Spice" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May; judged on 2/17/2026
my mind is at sea tonight
my eyes are intentionally red from previous exposure to expired chlorine
i sink and omit all hints of solidified effort
this is the way i think of you without completely freefalling past caution yellow
my mind is at sea tonight
every fiber of my skin is sliced in honor of honoring your honor in all honesty
i levitate in a state of devastating deflation and let the chip fell where they may
this is the way i think of you without completely freefalling past caution yellow
my mind is at sea tonight
i am temporarily blind in a unified front of backdoor permanence
i gravitate towards the thoroughly emerging blackout caused my capsized currents ransacked radiance
this is the way i think of you without completely freefalling past caution yellow
Armed with abundance, infinity dictates
Charmed by assurance of blossoming supply
Fruitful hands encircle orchard's offering
Boughs bestow nourishment ripe flesh provides
Harrowing hunt, road collides with horizon
Narrowing options ominously herald hardship
Frantic hands grab due to doomsday prediction
Equity halted by maneuvers of manic narcisists
Swarmed in hysteria, sugarladen bounty dissolves
Adorned in disproportionate, diplomacy plunges
Acres of empty hurl dust in despondent swirls
Haze of delerium hides awareness of repugnant
Wallowing tune laments removal of drumbeat reliance
Violin's climbing petition infultrates silent confinement
Fist clenched hands maintain mantra of social distance
Banned comrade closeness hardens as poured cement
Contagion inflicts during quarantined two weeks
Sensation sells subscription to scare's scripture
Relegated ill recovery seldom quoted in statistics
Proclaimed isolation presents a lopsided picture
Miniscule channels travel disease, tattered moth
Musical tempo tangible greets society post virus
Makers of policy release kite string gradually
Infliction's ticket is onward immunity acquired
Strategy of sequential exposure fraught yet nessesary
Accurately extracted cure promptly recognised
Flourish of hands amassed tune an instrument of trust
Resuming rhythem surges communion revitalised
Aboveboard
from the perch
In Spades
1st. Warning
Final Bell
Clean-up
Pause to review
Dolly Carry
Dolly Carryover
time keepers light
The Patina Variant
danger of exposure
Macadam Position
Both Acoustic(grasp and follow-up)
lacking the ability to follow-up
chain of moves that
is sequentail to pinfall or pin attemp.
Cold reading
Hot collar
Naker
off grid
on top
truckers read
pro tech follow-up
trip and copy
high grip and carry
low grip and carry
lycra postion
Whitedress and Ledger
four bootes limited
tuxedo seam
Sketchy
on the mat time
in atmosheric time
defensive posturing
offensive follow-ups
abilty to gain
loss of points
retalation
sqash and finsh
submission interferance
the crowd in the audeince
Dear nurse
The towels in a Knoot
Tie your shoe
points were spots may allow
ranking movement(up and down)
Clean and authentic submission wrestling.
Matches that showcase wrestling abilty
that limits certain kicks and punches.
It's mentioning means a contest to showcase talents
to determine contention
or Name Champion.
A named champion maybe givn a trophy or belt that
symbolizes
Him as best.
It also allows him to be challenged.
Where the sanitioning body will
make a contract,
and will promote the bout , contest, match or Specticail
in theme or as a pure match with either singles
or team effords.
But the concept of the Talus, is to
create teams to showcase and champion the victors.
The silent type—that’s what I am.
Not the strong silent, carved of stone and pride,
Not the cool silent, with a smirk to hide,
Not the mystery that people want to trace,
But a quiet born of shrinking from the space.
More like the scared silent, the one who stays
Frozen in the corners of the passing days.
The one who always assumes they are wrong,
Apologizing just for moving along,
Convinced my voice is an error in the air,
A broken note that shouldn't be there.
I am the silent that would rather stake
My own fragile peace for another’s sake.
The silent that would rather be miserable and low,
If it means a lighter path for someone else to go.
Let my own wishes fracture and break,
If it keeps the surface smooth without a shake;
I will swallow the bitter, the heavy, the cold,
So your comfort remains completely untold.
I am the silent that dreads the sudden sound
Of my own name called as the room turns round.
The heavy panic of having to talk in class,
Wishing I were invisible, made of glass.
As the clock ticks down and the papers rustle,
My chest tightens up in a breathless hustle,
Praying the eyes of the room pass me by,
Leaving me trapped in a stifled sigh.
I am the silent that doesn’t make many friends,
Watching from the edges where the laughter ends.
It’s not that I’m cold, or that I don’t care,
I just don’t know how to reach across the air.
So I stay on the fringe of the social light,
Walking home lonely into the night.
And oh, how I hate the glare of the beam,
The sudden exposure, the nightmare dream.
I am the silent that hates doing anything at all
If there is a spotlight waiting to fall.
No stages for me, no central floor,
Just a quiet retreat behind the back door.
A shadow that breathes, a voice kept inside,
Where the loudest storms are the ones we hide.
Just the scared silent, careful and small,
Trying to exist without shaking the wall.
Contest: Boulevard of The Beloved
Sponsor: Ink Empress
Prompt: If time turns, will the scars
Stain the sky?
Written for contest: 090426
My dear friend.
It appears that you have set your musings
To the large arena of time and space.
You asked, "If time turns, will scars
Stain the sky?" To your impassioned
Question, I am inclined to say 'Yes'.
Time does indeed move forward in a
Continuous mode: none stop, no waiting.
In so during, time unfolds and reveals the
Naked nature of mankind. Such exposure
Of nature's scars is so penetrating and dark that the clear blue sky will Indeed be severely stained.
However, in spite of the scars and stains,
There is hope and a future for all mankind.
Those scars and stains will not harm the
Rainbow in the sky. That is because the
Rainbow is a prime party of a covenant that
God made with Noah after the destructive
Deluge.
Indeed, time will turn until time shall be no more.
And unfortunately, scars and stains will result.
But we have good reason to be hopeful and
Comforted, because God is forever committed
to his Word, and to the best possible outcome
of mankind.