Long Fixations Poems
Long Fixations Poems. Below are the most popular long Fixations by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fixations poems by poem length and keyword.
There is an addiction to being accepted
We all fall victim with the lies we tell
The skeletons we hide
This dopamine hit is what we crave
It dictates our every move
Every pawn is different
It's that drug we crave to fix it
To make you see all the more when there is really less
Could be a trauma could be a need to be important
Could be the need to escape
We all portray something different in every place we are
With every hat we wear a different complextion of who we are
We all create the fixations the way we handle this drug
How authentic we are or how scared we really are
This addiction becomes a mask a place to hide
Its the truth in all our lies
Many of you may disagree
But do many of us really know who the other person is
In a world dominated by technogly
How do we grow out of this need to make ourselves look more perfect then we are
This social media drug that makes us feel perfectly at ease
The tik toks of today make it so easy to be blinded
The facebooks of tomorrow promise a story
But whose story is really being told.
As i contemplate these thoughts
I'll post another update of how my life is truly not.
A show for you all to bask in a made up imagination of a broken child do to the addiction of being accepted
Night awakens in the chaos of infernos imploding beneath the darkened sky,
It stretches, casting its tangled locks over the deep silences,
Shedding the seraphic blankets of the winter moon, golden and silent,
And dances barefoot on the icy floors that crackle beneath its steps.
It stumbles over the remnants of dawn, torn like shattered thoughts,
Like shards of sharp hail scratching windows emptied of meaning,
The night trembles under hungry fangs that shake the bells of eternity,
As gusts of darkness devour forgotten lullabies.
It chews on torn dreams, running through loops of unfulfilled obsession,
Night gathers in storms of dead-end roads, full of fixations,
Where grotesque graffiti covers the walls of despair masked by tornadoes,
Storms of mania that seem like solutions in the unknown labyrinth of the mind.
Whispers of wind born from worms of thought step before the sky,
Cutting the divine heart with blades of storms infected by darkness,
While the blood of angels stains the wings of doves that lose their flight,
Anxiety spills in torrents as the litanies of hours break into noise.
The wild night roams through the core of darkness, gripped by tornadoes,
Eagerly awaiting the first glimmer of light of a new rebirth.
never could this baby boomer papa –
lviii orbitz round mister sun as I write while wife
at present (takes her siesta) imagine
dragons, killer Queen Latifah countless ways,
thee first of deux daughters
would in vite learning how to comprehend
unfamiliar infant siren ear splitting strife
and mandatory pronto reception,
unwittingly ineluctably altering my life
prior to parturition of our eldest heiress,
ah wanna let
chew in on a bit about mess elf
before becoming a papa
no emotional, financial,
nor physical obligation dim manned did
obliged, nor required this bard **** to in debt
any of his waking and sleeping second,
minute, quotidian hour,
et cetera on behalf of another person Yukon bet
char sweet bippy, that despite initial onset
of anticipatory anxiety (no pet
tee personal issue; burping baby,
diapering, swaddling, et cetera fermi person
easily got shucked off), hitherto
didst any phenomena until then
force displacement of personal habits
to become secondary, and obviously,
seriously visibly up set
status quo, where embedded fixations
housed within this scribe
required reassignment of tasks
until salient event forced him to vet
any less important issues
to an unspecified future
date and/or time, which role
i.e. forsook luxury sans,
affordable focus on me,
and immediately didst force crash course
to keep figurative whet
stone sharp every waking
and sleeping moment of me life, yet....
though a crash course imposed role
viz immediate adjustment of mister mom
(which obviously necessitated significant sacrifice
upon the head of this major Tom)
never before until that juncture
such selfless experience ever met,
but in retrospect salutary outcome
found thoughts linkedin whereby
time never divided, partitioned,
or sectored off to another livingsocial being
I never took care of an infant,
when her crying heard
yet, the birth of E_ L_ H_ incurred
(born at Bryn Mawr Hospital),
Testosterone poisoning, there is no vaccine
That will keep this from killing all those in between
The coming of age and the coming unglued
Among one society segment imbued
With certain fixations which are second to none
When they fix on a target while coming undone
It can't be the tools they use in their trade
It must be some other trade-off we've made
For surely some illness is causing this schism
Besmirching what we know is exceptionalism
We have to get better with our institutions
Because we hold sacrosanct our constitution
Solutions will surely present themselves when
The sword remains mightier still than the pen
There's always exceptions proving the rules
And challenging history's only for fools
They always rush in where wise men refrain
We'll stay with the angels, we're holding the reins
This too, shall pass, it's happened before
It'll happen again, there's always one more
Misguided fool going off of the rails
Conservative minds will always prevail
Secure in the notion that right will make might
And the mighty will be sleeping soundly tonight
Toward Material Trappings
Gold and silver upholds
true value capitalist money tree
Thrown down upon gaunt
lit alter of Midas,
treasured as current sea
Countless denominations
cashiered legal tender to grant
Rich Midas, who straddles
diamond compound,
billed as sacred Kant
Tickles with dollar signs
motley foolish crue scrambling
towards drawbridge gate
Pedestrians malingering
hungry thirst
for wealth of nations to satiate
Inexorable appetite
for wanton money to amass
Fuels reverence
all that glitters even brass
Whence madding crowd
behaviour cruel and crass
Deplorable if perceived
from one-way looking glass
Fool hardiness to revere
what beast called money,
lucre, and green back
Can buy - sweeping across
World Wide Web
scarring globe on fast track
Toward accumulating
high excess lavish life harried style
parade with pomp
and swiftly tailored circumstances while
Ninety nine percent
of less wealthy live hand to mouth
Envying those billeted
behind sealed mansions
east, west, north and south
Except this dollar less chap,
who could not give a rat’s tush
For ka-ching melodic sound
twenty four seven that does swoosh
In burlap sack clothes
and bank accounts preferring
to slog and push
Along boulevard of broken dreams
that resembles nothing but mush
Yet preference prevails
foregoing attachment
to government sanctioned loot
Freeing mind and body trying
to cherish voluntary simplicity,
which does suit
This quest for knowledge seeking writer,
who disparages
tooting his own horn
Nor imposing personal philosophy
that gives reason exuberantly to exhale
Versus vacuity and purposelessness
sans, blind faith toward Holy Grail
Goading most people to persevere
for millions of bucks over hill and dale
Despite owning next to nothing,
yet detaching psychological
bond that doth choke
Ability to experience unfettered psyche
likened to oxen iron bound yoke!
Thank you for your grace, your mercy and everlasting love Father. Thank
you for giving me the strength to endure another day. Forgive me
for my sins I've committed. I come to the
realization that day-to-day my eyes will
face temptations. I'm lured by the
beauties of envy, greed, anger,
jealousy, lust and fornication.
Saved I am, though not
perfect; but with your
tools, I pray to
overcome my
sinful fixations.
Right over wrong
indeed I stand;
it's majority of the
wrong that over
powers the right in
most situations.
Understandably,
it's all apart of the
flesh's gravitation for
a craving appetite for
sinful sensations. Spiritually,
I refuse to become stagnant; mimicking
the gestures of still waters while observing
nature's sin waltz about society in a circular
motion across the nation. Therefore, I will testify
and witness to the lost souls being an inspiration. And
taking heed to the one and only literature as it's a form of migration. One
place to another place, from this place to a better place; my final destination...!
06-27-2013
The wild night awakens from the dream of an imploding inferno,
Stretching lazily, with tangled strands like waves of darkness,
Tossing aside the serene blankets of the full golden winter moon,
To dance barefoot on frozen floors, like a lost silhouette.
Stumbling over morning's remnants, where thoughts like shards,
Crumpled and cold, cling to naked windows, dressed in bareness,
Shivering, the night listens as hungry fangs jangle bells,
While gusts of darkness ravage the cradles of forgotten dreams.
Gnawing the jaws of desolate dreamscapes, thoughts rush in,
Through obsessive loops of the mind, amid inescapable storms,
Where night huddles, adorned with fixations and grotesque graffiti,
Despair masquerades as cyclones of deception, mania as solutions.
Whispers of wind, earworms, are born from the cold silence,
Intercepting the celestial voice, cutting painfully into the sky's heart,
While angels' blood stains the doves of their white flight,
Anxiety floods in torrential rains, as hours writhe in noise.
The wild night wanders through midnight, caught by hurried tornados,
Eagerly awaiting the first light of resurrection, a promised miracle,
A sunrise of lost tranquility, like a promise of peace and solace,
And light to pierce the darkness, like a dream of rediscovered hope.
I am just getting started to venture…
… feasting sumptuously, satiating my cravings midst well-being’s fullness
... feeding the malnourished kids toward physical and mental footsteps
… featuring myself along my twelve-month color scheme of saintly fashion
… flying over Mt. Everest, then trek at its pinnacle with my gratitude flag
… freeing all biblically righteous activists, accused as religious fugitives
... fostering abandoned special children in our orphanage to adopt them finally
… fathoming futility’s frame against frustration-fall
… fleeing to family’s joyous bondings around blessings’ flow
… fulfilling my own desires, defying folly’s flair
… firing-up my heart’s fixations…
Fueled by God, I thank Him for putting in me reverential fear* so by faith freely I follow Him willingly along holiness-bliss of fervency’s fortitude.
*Psalm 111:10 The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom: a good understanding have all they that do his commandments: his praise endureth for ever.
September 24, 2019
(Free verse incorporating alliteration and list forms)
Once I have been to that city-
the city of ritzy splendor and hoary grandeur,
a gargantuan pile of steel and granite.
It stood an enigma on the banks of Hudson,
lulling the waves to sleep in the garish light of neon bulbs
with an eternal tumult heating up its nerves.
Walking down its streets, eerie scenes scurried past-
men and women- of all climes and continents
all ethnic denominations, all shapes, sizes and colors,
blonds, brunettes, blacks and whites,
tourists and nomads, in flashing styles
outlandish costumes, tonsured, dyed and tattooed,
speaking different dialects, trundling down busy streets
that never go still with sleep and awakening
where each day is an eternity and each night- a New Year’s Eve
a banal hubbub- a hoarse discordant clamor!
Broad roads that stretched endless seemed to lose themselves
like the mazy tangle of complex minds,
and pavements littered with a thousand moving feet.
In this hurricane of faces with fleeting passions
or fixations of their own, what chemistry could I discern?
A zest for life--or its absence? A search for a life lost in living?
a fight for survival or a passive surrender to the inevitable?
Disclaimer: This is a poem about drugs. I do not condone, nor suggest the use of any drugs. However, I unfortunately did live a free and eventually devastating party lifestyle. Which, I do not wish upon anyone. But, they were wrote, and they will be shared. If poems regarding drug use offends you... Please do not read further. Thanks.
First comes the snort, then inhalation
Streaming clouds of energy,
fill a dark and sweat filled room.
A blast of Energy, From Snowflakes of Joy
All quiet, sounds barely audible.
A tiny voice peeps,
"takes another."
Piling a bank of glistening powder
Call them lines, bumps, or rails.
Grasp the bed, after one last grasp of straw
It unleashes its power, a feeling of flight
Floating amongst, puffy nice clouds
My world plays out in fast forward
Deal and sell, Use, then Steal
Fixing all of my fixations
A monster sized blast,
Suddenly, free falling upon
the dirtiest of floors.
Still, undaunted, I, fully swear
There strangely exists appeal
of self inflicted near death,
Blessed, Little reminders,
Random tingling of the arms.
Only appreciated truly, justly
accompanied with sharp chest pain.