Long Forgetful Poems

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


So Much More

The whispers of forgetful mist have seemingly descended upon the world of people-kind ... the conviction of knowing all is wrong ....but putting a finger on this wrong ‘is not possible as chaos has maliciously rolled normality conveniently  into a tidy ball of confusion.

Day by day the outward absurdity grows and seems to take hold  of normality by the throat ,shaking it’ and enjoying its pitiful whimpering ,
Many as do  I ...stand agape and ask why or WHAT? At the strange happenings.

Tik Tak’s  fly in the face of the world but are seemingly of little or no interest for humanity ,
But In their stead ‘
The real game of thrones plays out as the masked  masses look on in dutiful silence and in trance ...soaking up the monotony and hoping for salvation and change .

In these strange days ‘The night sky will soon be full of sentimental’s with uncaring prying eyes ...and yet no one seems to vocal a concern or reason for such things of looming uncertainty .

Day by day I observe that The veins of unrest and the Dark unknown are beginning to run deeper in the strata of human society.

Wether I am drinking my morning coffee or closing my eyes to begin sleep ,
There is one thought dominant above all others 
.........As a species
 we should be so much more than we are today .


No, Forgetful Sweety

So pathetic is the word,
I would like to say aloud;
your silly and giggling laughter
bothers me, it's a true disaster!

No, forgetful sweety
nothing convinces me,
don't scatter clouds
when it's too sunny;
should I belittle words
that make clowns laugh 
hard, it doesn't including me...
because it cuts me in half!

Don't hurry a conversation,
don't avoid physical contact
when feeling the urge;
I'm your closest friend,
don't sweeten my tongue
with tic-tac, I get upset!
Have a specific project,
trust can never end!

No, forgetful sweety...
betrayed hearts need empathy,
no, forgetful sweety...
pick up the broken pieces,
they can be put together easily;
gone are the bitter tears!

Don't touch me with frantic urge,
I may be tempted to purge
this restless guilt and act hysterically,
I won't waste kisses and feel terribly!
No, forgetful sweety: can rage 
change this mind so suddenly?
Form: Lyric

To the passage of time, you waste

To the passage of time, you waste

to an old idea that lives in you
to that vivid imagination that still burns
to your dream that lives on
there will come a day, 
when eventually it runs out-

to the passage of time you waste
rejoice in moment of levity that lives within

to your heart that feels heavy
to your soul that is crushed in burden of your own weight
walk close and steadily to that litted room
every step, each one, you take 
your crushed soul, in moment of truth
you; will nearly break 
-
to an old idea that lives in me
to my vivid imagination that still burns
to that forgetful dream that lives on, 
the passage of time I wasted
this pains that drains my heart 
this hopeless soul that is crushed
I rejoice in moment of levity that completes me. 

to live in burden of failure 
exhausted; I still dream 
I bath in my old ideas, i may never reach
I shower in fabricated imagination 
my soul ashamed, will surely endure. 
-
Let's create something new
Let's abandon all of our fantasies 
Let's work to achieve our dreams
Let's walk, on a new path 
each and every step we take 
this time, we learn 
through the the passage of time, 
we will learn to live again
this crushed soul will burn again

Premium Member The Litany of Cold

The Litany of Cold

The cold draws near like a herd of nameless angels,
heavy leaves fall over the village, old blood of another world,
the women pull their kerchiefs tight across their temples like a wound,
the sky weeps in fine, steady drops, soaking our thin clothes,
inside it's warm and golden; out here, only cold and smoke,
we knock on the frosted windows, calling out faceless names.

Take us into your arms, mothers of clay and candlelight,
we know how to say "mama" and clap out the rhythm of the world,
give us a red ribbon to tie around our foreheads,
we'll dress ourselves in restless colors, in sounds and in pollen,
you have no idea how cold it is inside our glass bones,
take us in under your arms — our fingers have turned to ice.

We came on foot, eyes closed, following a blind horse,
an old law drove us on, one we felt deep inside our chests,
we dug corridors toward you with fingernails of smoke,
we pressed the wet earth to our mouths like a heavy kiss,
my loves, you don't know what hunger our bare footsteps carry,
we're closing in, in ranks — the only ones who never forgot you.

We are your children, lost in dreams of mercury,
we carry a small sun in our chests, cut from the flesh of night,
our blood runs in circles, like water inside a crystal clock,
ripe moon, heavy seeds of warm darkness fall from you,
we dance around your hearth, thirsty shadows made of jade,
the psalter of the cold sings forgotten litanies into our bones.

You can give birth to us again, it's still one road to the same threshold,
we keep rolling on like the forgetful wheels of a cart,
reapers, bury us beneath your warm threshold,
there where the cold sleeps and memory turns to clay,
we will be the seed that grows inside your silence made of light,
and in the spring to come, we will be cold and prayer once more.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member On the heights of despair, where light falls askew

On the heights of despair, where light falls askew,
I rise through the abyss of thoughts as through a dream,
The whole world is an absurd song, without meaning,
And yet, behold, my foes, the mountains do not laugh,
And the worms, silent, do not sing, only I, solitary,
Watch as illusions dance on stage,
Dressed in garments of clouds and smoke.
What a wonder to love supreme uselessness,
When morals and aesthetics break like reeds,
And religions become just shadows of forgetful gods,
How to live when all around is just dust
And your soul trembles under the eternal weight
Of the void that holds you close like a mother
Who has lost her child in the desert blizzard.
Ah, but the absurd, this playful demon,
Casts its light on the chaos within me,
And I lose myself in questions without answers,
In love with something formless,
A love that stretches like a river
You cannot touch, only feel its flow
And lets you drift in the drift of eternity.
Without purpose and without aim, my love
Is a play of shadows under the emerald sky,
And I, a lost dreamer, bow
Before the absurd, for only it gives
A semblance of life’s meaning, a reason
To pass through time like a traveler
Who does not seek a destination, only the journey.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Relay

Relay
        by Odin Roark

Quietly restless vibrates their lives
Refusing to become another’s exhaustion

With feet that still move
Arms that forever embrace
Smiles that only invite
Thinking that feeds dreams
Their midnight oil remains burning

So go the resilient few 
Bodily disintegration ignored
Their stamina relentless 
Minds and hearts held fervent
Even as so few relate 
Most collapsing beneath dimming flame

When the finish line appears
Champions of tenacity find the baton levitating
Shadowy runners refusing evanescence
Enjoining instead others unyielding 

Still…

All must cross pragmatic finish lines
Exit stadium’s forgetful tunnels
Accept this life’s form of play

For some

Around unknown corners few wish to chance 
Breathing continues restless
As transition invites pause
For new breath to be caught
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.

Being a Man

I'm learning to be a man from my brother
Since I'm flying under his wing
As he shows me how to flap my own
Before I can go solo from here on 

I see how forgetful he gets at times
It's cause he's head is in his pockets
Thinking on he's next move to make sure we have
Even when the surface he hits is hard he still finds a way 

I see how he glows when he gets the chance,
to see he's family is getting by well 
He dozes of early this nights
Too tired after hitting the road all day 

I see how his steps are quick but subtle
Cause he doesn't want to wake anybody around
He goes and comes as he went 
Talking less that all we do is just see him 

I'm learning to be a man from my brother
And I hope that when I'll be a man
I'll be a man that my brother can be proud of
Cause he doesn't get to be proud of himself, 
so I'll reflect that to him so that he sees himself 

The PO£T

Premium Member Do the Mandate Polka- Humor






                 Do the Mandate Polka


        Roll out the mandates!
        We’ll have a barrel of fun!
        Just do the Mandate Polka!
        Fauci promised you won’t get 
                     the runs.
        He thinks a poke is pure fun?
        Just do the Mandate Polka!
        So grab a beer and smile broadly.
        In a mask, you look just lovely!

        
         It’s only July, but prices are high,
         Bicycle Joe is laughing, slapping his 
                      weak thighs.
         In sunglasses, forgetful but thinks he’s 
                       so wise?
         All of the White House is doing the 
                       Mandate Polka!
         Starbucks is now closing, they are 
                        being attacked. 
         So I’m just here to tell you that,  
                        Mandate Man is back!
         All join in, doing the great Mandate Polka!
               …………………………………………………
                              7/21/2022
                                 ~3 ~

      * Inspired by the song, “The Pennsylvania  Polka”….
         available on You Tube.! 

                 ~ Written at Brandon Falls!~
                          )))))))))))))
Form: Rhyme

Not Always Cheerful

Not always cheerful,
Sometimes sorrowful, 
Sometimes delightful.

Sometimes hurtful,
Sometimes regretful,
Sometimes beautiful.

Sometimes disrespectful,
Sometimes respectful,
Sometimes wonderful.

Sometimes bashful, 
Sometimes resentful,
Sometimes playful.

Sometimes forgetful,
Sometimes wishful,
Sometimes thoughtful.

Sometimes getting an earful,
Sometimes doubtful,
Sometimes colorful.

Sometimes prayerful,
Sometimes eventful,
Sometimes uneventful.

Sometimes tearful,
Sometimes fretful,
Sometimes careful.

Sometimes fearful,
Sometimes painful,
Sometimes artful.

Always plentiful,
Always thankful,
Always heartful.

Premium Member Our Reality

The residents slowly amble
               toward the buffet,
some using canes or walkers,
a few sitting on scooters,
            others standing, 
schmoozing, joking, laughing.

Dinner is the social hour
         in senior living       food
      a common subject 
conversation not momentous
         who won at cards    family
medications    the weather

          A murmur and peaceful
burble of many voices         until
suddenly                a high-pitched wail
an ambulance    yellow lights aflash 
          rounds the corner and
                      stops.

          Blue jackets    rolling bed
medical kits      EMTs quick-step
                toward the elevator
return               someone is lying flat
         people crane their necks
which friend had this bad luck?  

Did someone fall again?
       have a heart attack?
          but         maybe
 it’s nothing serious
        they’ll be back tomorrow
(thinking             it could be me)

          In senior living
people go to the hospital 
       stay a while       come back
                   or not
 friends leave for assisted living
              become forgetful   
          move to memory care. 

We live with          the impermanence
        of the permanence        of our reality
           we grieve for lost friends,
but        we keep on loving        caring           
         living every day to the fullest
         because we all travel the same road.

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