Long Fed Poems
Long Fed Poems. Below are the most popular long Fed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fed poems by poem length and keyword.
I watch the wars that burn around us all and see nothing,
Behind cold walls of hate, the silence swallows up nothing.
The pain cries out in every corner, yet we hold nothing,
Our hands remain unmoving, frozen in cruel nothing.
We’ve lost our faces in a mirror cracked by endless nothing,
Forgotten how to reach for others—we give only nothing.
We know the suffering, hear the desperate calls, but do nothing,
Step by step, we turn away and choose the path of nothing.
Each day fades quietly, swallowing hope into nothing,
Our words break silences, but inside there’s still nothing.
We walk empty streets, searching for care but find nothing,
Fragments of light flicker and fade into cold nothing.
Love feels strange and distant, lost deep in the night of nothing,
In children’s eyes, hope trembles, then vanishes into nothing.
Tears fall without meaning; we learn to feel nothing,
But still inside, a small fire burns, a whisper against nothing.
Maybe from these ashes, something will rise beyond nothing,
Maybe tomorrow we’ll find, inside ourselves, true humanity—not nothing.
Until then, we remain hollow words, echoes swallowed by nothing,
And every day we struggle not to sink deeper into nothing.
Sewers possess a beauty all their own
belching gas, you can hear them hiss and groan.
A maze that stretches for hundreds of miles:
they remove our stench and leave us with smiles.
Such an efficient waste removal tube:
if you don’t admire their worth, you're a rube.
They're the bowels of a modern city:
not to acknowledge them is a pity.
Interconnected pipes flush out each house
and provide homes for a rat, or a mouse.
A marvel of septic engineering:
they spread good health without interfering.
Thanks to manholes and ubiquitous drains,
our paved streets are not flooded when it rains.
Sewer systems are an essential tool
to remove liquid waste and smelly stool.
Try to imagine life without this web
of underground rivers that flow and ebb.
They outpace a highly prized thoroughbred
and the trick is, they're gravity fed.
Being fed when corrupt
agents gather junk sick
fentanyl addicts functioning
only by giving false confusion
in exchange for a cup of
coffee at Denny’s bus tickets
from Alabama to Nashville
to Chicago where informants
are being tossed in front of
moving cars faceless
unrecognisable finally the
ultimate what’s in the box
it’s a human skull on a sidewalk
trick of treat jay Townsend
Johnson Henry swooning
Special agent Paula Brand
where does it all end increase
in fentanyl overdoses deaths
in Chicago being FED rat poison
Suffocating fear envy and denial
stop exploiting mentally Ill fentanyl
addicts homeless hoarders in Chicago
Have a happy Halloween check all
your candy for fentanyl
A soul that's hungry and never well-fed,
is always searching for something much greater,
a great love whose meaning is ne'er misread,
or destiny whose time arrives much later.
In God and thee I find a hopeful fate,
a future that restores a quiet grace,
and moments in time's endless, flowing state;
where I embrace your beauty's radiant face.
But if the heavens and the stars above,
and all the world were drowned in seas of gloom,
my lines still live forever in thee, my love,
beyond end of days, beyond even doom!
If love transcends all seasons and all times,
then your spring lives on in all of my rhymes.
There’s something in our entrails knows this dread.
You hear it scratching – that’s alarm enough.
That snorting half-suppressed, that flagstone scuffed,
a passing shadow of a massive head,
and we scent darkness, dark beyond the dead.
It hovers like Unreason. Does it know?
Canals of self-containment overflow,
like wits’ weak walls, at that approaching tread.
Our fingers, feeling for that flimsy thread,
Seem senseless, unresponsive: can’t perform
the simplest act. No order now, no norm.
The Void insists. The Hunger will be fed.
With locusts of the Labyrinth in swarm,
the mitochondria of Panic sprout and spread.
Why is Congress infected with socialism
which only creates division and schism
Seems to me it’s 'cos Congress just rolls over, plays possum
to forked-tongue liars like Obama, Biden and Trump
The electorate is finally fed up with representatives who won’t fight
against emperors without clothes like the aforementioned chumps
So now they’re voting for charlatans who shout, yell and scream
~ hard-core commies who'll kill forever the American Dream
Though awake all along,
She suddenly came to
It was midday after all
Bright sun, skies blue
This feeling was strange
Out of body, perhaps
She remained within range
Could it be a time lapse
Paranoia was instant
Legs heavy from shame
Light sweat and mild pant
She couldn't explain
Where was her mind
Who had she become
But tapping rewind
Only blistered her thumb
The children were there
In a state of confusion
Under her care
An episode, brewing
She pushed them away
To feed her need for silence
Go out and play
Mother needs rest
A cold water splash
To sober her skin
Cheap white trash
Is what she had been
How could she look
In their innocent eyes
She felt like a crook
Just shame fed lies
Wind in time
Rapes the emotions, vacillating within
Moments shot down in flames
What can I do with these shattered pieces?
I've lost my voice, beneath their screams
I've been silent
Bending backwards till I've been broken,
I watch their love go up in smoke
Help me rise, stoke the flames that burn
When I pray for release
Will I rise from the ashes?
You can use my anger to see how silence has desecrated my soul
use me as a makeshift gauge
…for how much I give
…for how much I take
I can't hold this much longer
I've been watching, I've been silent,
Watching my life go up in smoke
Will I rise from the ashes?
When the smoke has vanished
When I pray for deliverance
I will not hesitate to stand,
I will rise
without fear.
Relax and calm down she said. How can I with all these emotions running through my head?
See that's the problem. You never actually listen to what I have to say. That's because everything you say, causes me much dismay.
You just don't get it. That's the problem I have with you. Well if that's your main problem with me,then I really wish I was you. Because if you were me, then you would see all the problems you create for me unnecessarily. I would tell you to stop it. If I were you.
But i'm not you. That's the reason I don't do the crap that you do. I do for you what I can do. You don't even try to do for me. Your transparent or should I say see through? In fact I'm done with this poem because i'm totally done with you.
10/18/19
contest: give me your best new poem poetry contest
Sponsor; emile pinet
I gave him the map to my mind,
Let him redraw the lines in my skin,
Traded my laughter for silence,
Just to be something he could live in.
He handed me rules like chains,
Soft-spoken, wrapped in love’s disguise—
Don’t wear that. Don’t say this. Don’t be you,
And I, too blind to see, apologized.
I shrunk to fit his comfort.
Tamed my voice so he could speak.
Dulled my shine to soothe his ego,
Made myself small, made myself weak.
And every day, he chipped away—
My worth, my will, my fire.
Until I couldn’t find my reflection
In the mirror of his desire.
But then—he left.
And with the echo of his silence,
I heard something I hadn’t in years:
Me.
A whisper at first,
Then a roar through the ruins:
You are not broken.
You are free.
My confidence came rushing back
Like the tide he’d tried to cage.
My bravery danced in daylight—
No more hiding, no more stage.
Now I speak without permission,
Wear what sets my soul alight.
I laugh loud. I take up space.
I no longer dim my light.
I talk to strangers, make new friends,
Taste new worlds, chase new skies.
I write my rules in fire now—
No more fear behind my eyes.
He took so much, and I let him.
But what he gave me in the end
Was the spark to rebuild myself—
Not as his.
But as my own best friend.