Long Flattening Poems

Long Flattening Poems. Below are the most popular long Flattening by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flattening poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Natures Fury

Turbulent waves crashed the shores
nature unleashing her terrible rage
merciless the waves flood the houses
ripping homes apart with dreadful might

The hurricane still building up power
relentlessly flattening everything
lingering out to sea as it grows
quiet and unnaturally calm in the eye 

Here gentle waves lap in softest breezes
no sign of the raging monster outside
a veritable paradise within the storm
nature so gentle yet also so very cruel

Outside the circle of the peaceful eye
a story of terrible devastation and ruin
nature more vengeful than a slighted lover
hear the rage in her catastrophic storms

All man and beast can do is take cover
and hope that the cost is not too high
that loved one and friends are spared
and that nature for now is appeased


Premium Member Spiring

SPIRING

jumping over hoops,
getting caught on iron needles high.
dogs nipping, gnawing,
clawing at skin and rags,
rolling,
                          rolling in mire,
slithering round and round
the spokes of unwritten thoughts.

thoughts that teach a fettering,
flattening, fostering
                                        of doubts.
printed plates invisible
    in misty blue, burgeoning blots.

drowning ink               expiring,
perspiring, perhaps

i
n
s
p
i
r
i
n
g

flames of dung.  did you think
a match, could claim
to hiss and hAtCh?

it rebels!
rings hell’s bells,

until you quench its thirst.         cursing cursive dance
melts in the cool sun,

satisfied by ashes, stoked.
smokeless sentience, reticence of cheer,

yet a new year...a promise to yourself,

to rise on black and blue,
or tapping the matrix of stars and moon,
spiritual spiring of heart and soul,

            indelible ink.

4/12/2018
Bring Me Back To Life Contest

Belittled

#How_belitled_and_demoralized
my intuitiveness turned into a floor door mat, my innate abilities, said to be incompetent, my ego tarnished, worse when the gift I embraced in my palms from birth, as a token of blessing from heaven to this very land of men n creatures, titled whack n premature by a foreign nationalist, whom saw refugee to my ancestors soil.  The mouth that puked on my ego, the words that tossed my humility n humanity a lil astray,  my body catching temperatures so fuming n patient dismantling

a near blast of self reserve, the grounds I'm standing on trembling,  my self esteem tilting, time pacing so unusual, nothing making sense, everything sounding irrelevant n useless, all these bringing back the dragon in me to life, everything n everyone losing shape n size to my presence, hell standing attentioned to the aftermath,  my ancestors flattening, while my creator shook his head n said "there's no obstacle, which can exceeds ur strength n faith" then my whole body n mind shuts down n the human in came back to conscious

that ache, which torched my visibility, seen as a thread to a fellow brother of colour, how envy n jealousy pollutes man mind n heart, with internal hate n anger,  blocking breathing ports for citizenship n reasons unbearable to ones life n loved ones, which freed man out of Egypt"a country of starvation n human oppression slavery " n a promised land which came as the only choice not a promised one, being that of which I received my swearing, just after couple of full stomach nights, made possible by a whiteman n my personality suddenly puked upon
#Poetic_Ink

The View From a Window

A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting hue, 
Momentarily ignited by stray 
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
Rainbow...
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating 
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking 
Dawning,
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly 
Spills 
Into the trickling replenishments 
Of many gushing and silvery little 
Rills.


Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully 
Thinking...
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great 
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find, 
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and 
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its 
Back on the social conflicts 
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Vice;
Encumbering a soul with its petty 
Squabblings,
Imposing upon with demands and
Avarice...
When placing unnecessary burdens 
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome 
Strife!


And still stood, 
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost 
Unawares, 
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing, 
Inattentively stared...
Until...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared!
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
Over 
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which, 
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate 
finality,
Dejectedly hang...
Each draped aside of the cold 
Reveals.
Form: Rhyme

In Between the Rests and Silences

Rest, stirring heart,
Narrow-minded in your fears, courage close awaits
Though bold your words be, 
Your lack of action gives you away and despairs you
I am amused by your imaginings, 
For simple these worries be,
And strange is your heightened sorrows,
A sadness fit for the about-to-die children,
Begging the snares to let them go...
And yet you have that sorrow...and lovely and safe you be...

Rest your head not on man's shoulder
Instead, lay upon the golden cushions of My word-
Where rains of treasures and fruits gently fall,
Laced with peace-garnished with happiness...

Your brothers share deeply in your concerns,
Alone you never are,
For look! -out upon the beads of leaves,
How they rustle playfully and sway with the breeze
My breath gives them life-
How much than shall I give  thee? 

This I tell you, daughter,
Each lonely soul shall find true love,
In between the rests and silences,
On the very off-beat... on the tip of quietude,
True music tremulously trills,
Flattening all mountains and hills,
Kissing their lowered heads and wiping their glacier tears-
Long-patiented love insatiated


Premium Member Bold

Little boy scales the snowbank
          in Spider-Man boots 
          stomping snow,
          relentlessly
          a focused performance
          superboy tantrum, gushing discontent
          flattening worlds imagined
          crushing lands gripped by villains

His mother, nearby, gleams
          like heat under a stove pot
          a wary gatekeeper, 
          extending love unmatched
          to watch the giddy rush of boy
          to dream a soulful future
          to wonder on the needs of self
          to view a son's awakening
                           in the freedom of spaces

Little boy
          unfinished work
          putting his stamp on joy
          as bits of snow fly like a tale unfolding
As a mother watches the elastic bounce of youth,

          till the real world runs away with him.





Poem composed: January 23, 2021

The Camel

Shush ...did you hear 
Last evening a huge camel 
With an orange coloured neck
Managed to enter my silent room
Where no broom had worked for a long time

The doors and windows 
Had been kept closed 
Declining all inclined wind  

The long neck  was in two minds
To do or not to do

The plenty of lonely food
Ready to connive with renewed fervor
Emboldened the animal to  lodge indefinitely


Shush ... did you ever hear
The camel emptied the canopy
Of all the  clouds

The volcano kept the lava flowing on
Flattening all my cups and cones

Doctors said the camel must be expelled
In painting with the  blues  the camel excelled


The poetry  you  wrote in my notebook
Now teems with the camels

Premium Member Wallflower

In the rain I stand
pressed against your window glass,
warm and cold the liquid runs
where my tears mingle.
Do you see me here
longing for the warmth,
the embers stirred to flame
lighting the room
where she sits beside you,
appearing self possessed and free,
a fake-smiling  mannequin of me?

Why can't I turn away,
walk out of this self barred prison
into another, happier landscape?
Weeping wallflower, trembling, naked soul . . .
the jagged flashes push me closer,
bright hot lightening bolts of fear
flattening me against your wall.

Copyright, September 9, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson

Premium Member How the echo filters reality


It creeps up on me early morning
and again late afternoon
a microcephalic shadow,
almost the length of a football pitch,
Land of the giants view

My childlike head is miles 
away and dwindling,
constantly deflating 
Proteus syndrome echoes 
back through generations
crossing time zones too

Elongated diffraction
casts a very long shadow,
tapering reality
Low sun dysmorphia
projects a reflection of me,
A filtered perspective
revealing my only truth

Those beans I threw away 
yesterday were not magic
No golden goose lives atop the stalk
just a grotesque shell,
and one giant (yoke)
flattening all potential

I try look away 
but as always 
a grain of sand 
blocks my view 

Come chop me down,
flinch as I fall
Step over my shadow
you’ll need
(seven league boots)
But most of all,
no fixed roots!

Flames

We were flying back
              after flattening Coventry,
all of us cheerful,
confident young men,
                                        all heroes.

On the return landing,
amazingly
we saw that the airfield was deserted -
strange,
for we had left with many aircraft,
the mission a great success.

Then from the ruins of a hanger
they appeared,
people of all ages, families,
all wore gasmasks;
their torn clothes smoldering.

Bewildered we raced back
to the bomber.

Aboard once more
we lumbered into the night sky,
                                    where later
we were shot down
      as we fire-bombed Dresden.

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