Long Forcing out Poems
Long Forcing out Poems. Below are the most popular long Forcing out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forcing out poems by poem length and keyword.
Thick humidity of memories clog a small girls heart
That pitter-patter like soft, insignificant rain
Such a lonely life was just an urban myth
But I knew the truth of it all
Soaked to the bone, or rather the soul, I took a troubled breath
And I spoke my deep blue feelings to a stagnant sea
The shivered incoherence of my desperate pleas
Went, in tortured time, unanswered
17, forcing out a pained smile
Feigned and faded, frustrated and fated
Destiny leaped and hollered at a touch of weakness
Scribing plans in stone that scare me more than anything
Years went blurry and disoriented, surviving on withering hope
Yet eventually my feet moved slowly, again and again and again
23, I speak my light blue feelings to tricking streams
23 and my god I hope, I know, forever and ever on
Compassion Fatigue
Resentment looks a lot like Narcan in a sharp
and feels like it’s forcing out my will.
I grab them both; Naloxone and the tarp,
the outcome undetermined by my skill.
Same guy, same place, same drug; third time today,
his unresponsive body cold to touch.
Compassion has fatigued and crawled away,
when I see something tiny in his clutch;
A crucifix, a cross is glinting gold.
Immediate withdrawal floods through his veins;
I’ve plunged the needle, and I tightly hold;
his bloodied eyes snap alive with pain
despite the death wish of his toxic dope,
a Savior finds him worthy of His hope.
As soon the night collects your debt
Behind this wretched door now thrust
awaits a homage set afire
As loosened shadows cough the dust
and creaking screams align the mire
Where worry gathers in the mist
along a crooked staircase rise
And nooses hang from rafter’s twist,
while portraits gaze through swollen eyes
Come follow me in staggered weave
down corridors the dead now fear
Ignore the courage to believe
or see what lies so ever near
Beyond this place where volumes rest
of leather bound and brittle page
Await the names ‘neath rotted crest
in line to fall the final stage
To now atone of fevers past
in lusted cries of wallowed reach
From moors the lines of putrid cast
in lessons taught but not to teach
Lo, break this bread of mirrored shard,
slurp your lime serrated drink
To write as if a napkin bard
the desperate pleas that you now think
For last, these days of sorted lanes,
midst walking chains and lockets bore
A weakness in your heart now claims
of times which you have lived before
So stare the darkness you now keep
while forcing out a sad regret
For you shall sow the fear you reap
as soon the night collects your debt
Good night Soupers
And you were expecting a sappy love poem huh??? Muh, ha, ha , ha, ha
Happy Halloween : )
Oh, ok…..
This spooky autumn evening
as stars above do shine
I hold you in the darkness
so glad that you are mine
With shadow echoes calling
on eerie breezes flow
I whisper Happy Halloween,
I truly love you so
Here it comes,
April on the wing
squirrels chatter, birds sing,
flowers rise and grow
lilac scented pollen in the windy flow
oh no,
a tickle in my throat and nose,
this is spring, oh what a magical tease
forcing out each reckless cough and repetitive sneeze,
a screech to inertia, breathless explosive compulsion
from the mucosa of nasal integral expulsion,
ah, the wonders and beauty well spread
clogging and congesting brain cells in my aching head
ah choo, gesundheit, God bless,
it's spring bud and bloom at its very best
get me a tissue
for these beautiful and irritating issues,
hope it's an allergy and not the covid-19 flu.
As the night collects your debt
Find this the rotting door now thrust,
creaking screams align the mire
Loosened shadows coughing dust
in a world now set afire
Worry gathers in the mist,
along a crooked staircase rise
Nooses hang from rafter’s twist,
portraits gaze through swollen eyes
Smell the stench of fevers past,
sweat does stream of wallowed reach
Moors in line of wretched cast,
lessons taught but not to teach
Break this bread of mirrored shard,
slurp your lime serrated drink
Write as if a napkin bard,
any thought with which you think
Last, these days of sorted lanes,
walking chains and lockets bore
Weakness in your heart now claims
of a time you lived before
Stare the darkness now you keep,
forcing out a sad regret
You shall sow the fear you reap
as the night collects your debt
Though I hanker nothing for that feeling
Of impotence turned inward till,
frustration,
Brewed bowel deep and in bile rises,
choking,
Forcing out from throat a broken croaking.
And still I find I ask.
Why?
Why can't I bring to recollection,
one single, and would be,
precious moment,
though recall - crystal in its clarity
scouring memory's halls -
lays all bare before foul scrutiny,
where I was not in fear of you?
Why?
When, of what exuberant energy
youth is given,
All was spent!
Up and to its smallest measure.
Determination matched only by the aching yearning,
in trying to become like you.
Why, and why again,
Did all sight of me,
welcome just a burning fury?
And blistered spirit,
bruised and battered crumbling will.
Fool I was, and am now still.
Who chose to hide from a world too real.
And after little sighs and practised folding hands,
Slumber slipped slow into coma.
Till Hammer! Hammer!
Three decades later.
Need, with mercy none and armed to teeth,
broke upon my door, sole bent on ending me.
Grievously armed,
those machinations of my own making,
whose only purpose is to crush.
That, the sum of which a perfect craft complete,
matchless in design to bring at last to sleep,
and slake the lifelong bloodlust.
That when, spirit’s bone
stripped bare of flesh,
my Soul,
Then at the end of all forgotten lies,
At last sees my demise.
Form:
There is this sudden drive me
that grips me firm and bold
hanging on and forcing out politely
secrets my mind holds.
At first it seemed a small explosion
of thoughts and feelings unexplained
but more I think of its erosion
may come a loss within my brain.
I sleep, I wake, I doze and drift
as the written words begin to fade
with song and rhyme once a gift
relay my feelings on parade.
Each breath I take replaces one before
and the number is uncounted
but the moments rise without keeping score
and thinking persists rebounded.
All words then find their way
contemplating where next to roam
to gain their voice and say
of how the heart finds home.
Sometimes the words are overwhelming
slipping and tugging, directing my hand
as words spring forth compelling
to spread forth upon the shore like grains of sand.
So there you are, a word or two or three or four
my unyielding thoughts on rhyme,
release the hounds of mental war
then rest, unwind, all will again be fine.