Long Fretful Poems
Long Fretful Poems. Below are the most popular long Fretful by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fretful poems by poem length and keyword.
Timendi causa est nescire (Ignorance is the cause of fear).
– Seneca
About two thousand years ago,
when Quintilianus said it
(at least, that’s who gets the credit),
his paradigm was apropos:
the words “Vestis Virum Reddit.”
Garbed in leather, silks, and cotton,
emperors took his words to heart
(at least, they tried to look the part).
While rags for the misbegotten
kept wealth and hoi polloi apart.
Latin lessons soon forgotten
as kingdoms rose and kingdoms fell.
The rich get rich, the poor rebel
all through the Middle Ages rotten,
and the Enlightenment as well.
The New World spawned a tyrant king,
who would rule The Divided States,
fomenting fears with false dictates.
He'd boast that he knew everything,
a claim the test of time negates.
Galumphing loud he’d hit the links,
while flashing flaming orange hair,
and a most massive derriere.
His minions thought it ugly stinks,
but if he knew he didn’t care.
Sometimes he’d putt without his clothes,
few dared tell him he’s forgetful --
those who tried were soon regretful.
For it’s the truth that he most loathes,
and Media makes him fretful.
What is the measure of a man
who walks naked from his tower
while his Party members cower?
Has no patriot in his clan
the spine to speak truth to power?
When pictures in the Press were viewed,
“Fake news!” he’d claim. “This I decree.
I wear fine clothes, as you can see.”
Blame hubris? Blame ineptitude?
Let’s let the judge be history.
So, let us speak of history,
to the feckless that forget it
the words “Vestis Virum Reddit.”
Let truth be not a mystery --
give Quintilianus credit!
February 2022
"Latin Lessons" Poetry Contest sponsored by Margarita Lillico
If you are moving along undetected
Then no one’s busted your door open
Or thrown your face around the room or the fairgrounds or the apple well
No one has mentioned all the colors that exist
And the people who are quiet aren’t about to start shouting about the colors they know.
It is not the sun that bursts but our eyes
Like fretful demons looking for new places to spotlight and hide and make warm
And this cold and then a weariness tripped up by your own dopamine,
A flailing faucet spring where walls are built between people and the places they might go
and fly a kite.
Now, that kite isn’t mine
But I’m gonna try and get it up there anyway
Up and into that big blue sky
Where freedom pours down like pails upon us.
Form:
(Intro)
Psyche watched from behind blue eyes
as Flesh stared at the mirror,
the look upon the face was grim,
the heart was filled with fear.
(Psyche)
Please tell me what is wrong my friend
and why that bitter smile,
let's see if we can cheer you up,
converse with me awhile.
(Flesh)
Psyche dear, what can I say,
I'm not the man I was.
Life is catching up with me,
you know the way it does.
My hair is gray as you can see,
my teeth are falling out,
it's getting harder every day
for me to move about.
These eyes are growing dimmer,
I fear I have no hope.
The earth is calling me to rest,
I'm not sure if I can cope.
(Psyche)
I know your woes are many
from the cradle to the grave,
you've put your faith in science
that your body it may save
(Flesh)
Psyche dear, my sophic friend,
on you I can rely,
please impart to me some speech
to save me lest I die.
(Psyche)
What can I say, companion dear,
that will stem the rising tide,
I've always thought of you a friend
and to you I've never lied.
You're at the point where life's downhill,
the ride will be quite fast,
but I'll be with you till the end
when they come for you at last.
On that day I'll mourn for you
and I will feel much sorrow.
You'll return to mother earth
but I will live to see tomorrow.
It was for me that you were born
to carry me on my way,
you are for me a vehicle,
one molded from the clay.
I will not say that life is fair,
it is ordained of God.
Yes, I shall see the glory,
but you shall press the sod.
Let's end this talk my fretful friend
and chase away these blues.
Look, the sun is shining bright,
the day breaks fresh and new.
We both know the day will come,
I'll hold your hand till then.
So do not fear, but persevere,
my very special friend.
Borrowed words, a line from Mary Shelley, Frankenstein:
“Beware, for I am fearless, and therefore, powerful”
I have crumbled mountains, that were once molehills
I have heard the fretful cry of my child, midst thunder
I have missed sleep to hold a sick friend's hand
I have read stories, told imaginary stories, invented games
broken up fights, yelled at games, organized parties
driven miles, decorated cars, made costumes
watched play practice, watched Amateur Night
I have added numbers, multiplied fractions, read paragraphs
taught dancing, thrown baseballs, given advice
I have mended with patches, band aids and words of love
I will walk distances, if I am needed
and I have never learned to say goodbye without tears
I am Woman
Hedonism
There was a time when ships were hard to handle
a crew of thirty-four or more and boys of fifteen
were employed to do the washing up after meals
and clean floors
A fraught time when hormones rage blatantly
we boys met in a cabin for communal maturation
to see who could hold it in the longest
I lost and hung my heads in shame
There were many whores where ships docked
they liked to steal our youthful innocence and
naturally, we let them have their way
These days whores are sex-worker and respected
they even have a union
Our ship found its way to Latin America, what
a shock, people there were poorer than us
The loose girls were desperate to go to Portugal
we promised to do our best and write letters to
the relevant authority, warmly we're embraced
our behavior was exploration, for which I in later
years, regret, when the fun was over, we knew
we also were exploited
when I came home, I was briefly a socialist
demanding free housing, but I preached for def ears
I became a self-employed window cleaner
and in fulness of time bought a house of my own
selling a house and buying another become a habit
not so fretful lad, the prices, are always going up
" Sex without love leaves behind loneliness ."
There’s something I cannot explain
We are on a different lane…
We’re in vain and full of disdain
I’m sorry I caused you so much pain
I’m sorry if I hurt you so
If I did, you’d let me know?
Hope I didn’t scar you for life
With my sorrowfulness and strife
It’s something I cannot undo
It’s the fact that I truly love you
What I have done to harm you?
This battle’s unwon and I haven’t a clue
So hurt by your words of ignorance and selfishness
Comfort is so far away from my remembrance
I’m not an expert at this peace in mind in solaceness
My shirt is inside out and I begin to shout out for deliverance
There’s so much that you don’t know
There’s so much that I want to show
God knows my many fretful fears
God is aware and collects my tears
I know there’s hope beyond the pain
I know there’s sunshine after rain
I’m trying to remain sane
While others are being a pain again and I’m losing my mind train
It’s something I cannot undo
It’s the fact that I truly love you
What I have done to harm you?
This battle’s unwon and I haven’t a clue
So hurt by your words of ignorance and selfishness
Comfort is so far away from my remembrance
I’m not an expert at this peace in mind in solaceness
My shirt is inside out and I begin to shout out for deliverance
There’s something I cannot explain
Refrain from driving me insane
I feel like rising from the drain
Go on a different lane or something cuz you’re causing me pain in my brain
Cuz I can’t stand it anymore
I feel like I’m hurt to the core
But no one cares, no one cares
And it’s obvious that I’m too lost in the forest like a long lost deer
I’m tired of these sick nightmares
And it’s like you’re oblivious to my voice of thoughtfulness and cheer
We all have inner and outer lives.
They’re messy, hopelessly intertwined, and more
than mere mannequins to hang our word-art upon.
I’m supported, in my unwritten life, by a structure
of moods, both affine and counter-expressive. I’m,
in turns, a tightly wound vagabond, an over-busy,
fretful, unhappy liar (for what I will not share) and
a happy, truthful mess (for what I may overshare).
My outer-life is largely academic, and turned with
complete absorption to task, I plow thru the
needed assignments, like a caffeine fueled machine,
You might rightly call outer-me boring. I get it, for
nothing much happens beyond study and life’s
usual maintenances.
But my inner-life is full of action, if desires,
dreams, and internally ranting against the injustices
of youthful separations can be rightly called actions.
Of my boyfriend, the world contains not one parallel.
He overshadows the few others I’ve ever known.
His masculine elements turn me all the way up,
He knows my petty vanities and most of my weaknesses.
If he doesn’t know my every phase of feeling, or every desire
of my love starved soul, it’s because our love is peripatetic.
Most of the year, we’re a long distance, digital, practical nothingness, A near autofictional anticipation. We are separated by a sea and more. If I may simply put it, I have a fine young body that is going to waste.
When I complained to my older sister, a surgeon who long delayed her own personal life for her career, she shruggingly and unsympathetically said,
“You only have to suffer a few more years.”
“Oh, mon Dieu!” I replied.
.
.
Alabama Song by Ralph Schuckett & Richard Butler
positions by Ariana Grande [E]
34+35 (Remix) by [feat. Doja Cat & Megan Thee Stallion] [E]
Many yesterdays ago,
I shut myself out
from everyone and everything,
just lied there waiting to die;
with no friends to come by and say hello,
to make me laugh like a clown:
when my moods were at a stand-still,
and I was about to cry...
Too glad to reveal my moment
and share it even with a stranger...
how loneliness held me in bondage,
and wouldn't release me from its tight hand;
so happy to enjoy every sun-ray,
which feels better when the dog-woods gently sway,
and spring offers more than it can:
and accepting this gift, I am greeted by a new friend!
If smiles make one look younger,
and promise a longer life...why
was its secret kept from me?
I wish...I had smiled more often, to have never
been surrounded by fretful shadows,
and be spoken to by morbid voices;
all the hopelessness and despair would have been unfelt,
and none of the memories would have lingered on regret...
Too glad to reveal my moment,
a moment so joyfully expressed by words,
and emotions that no longer remain silent;
so excited to declare this freedom with a loud sound:
even without wings, I would soar over those clouds!
Confide in me, hesitant friends...no road is too smooth,
and no unnourished tree can bear an exquisite fruit;
plant your seed today, plant it where the rains abound!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
When holidays have come to call, and someone needs a friend,
to adorn a tree, to hang a wreath, it can help the heart to heal
To hold a hand, to stay awhile, or to share a million tears
To be an ear.........and be a friend, ... might be all you need to do
The gift of friendship, can come to call,
in the coldest darkest hour
It can come to lift a fretful brow,
and can lighten the darkest cloud
If someone has lost the joy they knew
and cannot see beyond
When plans they made were swept away
and it seems their hope is gone
A friend to bring a smile again, a laugh, a meal to share
A warm embrace, a day to rest, are the best of gifts to share
The greatest gift, in the worst of times, does not come wrapped in bows
________________________________________
For The Contest Sponsored By Brian Johnson
" Small Gifts - Contributing to Other's Happiness"
12/5/14
At 3:00am I found myself outside,
Mind was awake but flesh was in deep deep sleep,
A sense of ghostly presence-I couldn't see.
A heavy shadow weighed upon my chest,
All breaths and thought turned into a dreadful rest.
I felt cold, dumb and naive,
When someone close to me whispered my name.
A moment when couldn't even wail,
Couldn't speak and move even my eyelids refused to fall,
My shuddered bone marrow tried to move and hide,
But suddenly everything faded like an ephemeral cloud,
No one was there no suffocation no more fretful crowd.
I couldn't recognize was it a dream or real,
Like A lost page of a mysterious book that's never clear.
Somewhere curiosity sparked and knew what i lacked,
Intriguing isn't? Some call it's a biological( Rem paralysis)
And others a supernatural attack.