Long Glaringly Poems
Long Glaringly Poems. Below are the most popular long Glaringly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Glaringly poems by poem length and keyword.
* Many years now since this very talented, very HUMAN guy left us … those holes never fill, and he is sorely missed. (This is a form I invented called “Tredicum Plus”. *
~
my brother ...
you caught me off guard -
of all those who struggle like we do
in darkness, with the
hideous demons that lurk
I was sure the victory was yours -
that the knight was astride
his steed, steadied -
armor shining bright in the sun
sword and shield, sharp and enduring ...
but alas, it seems the
devil wants the final
fiendish word …
long did I look to you
for strength ...
a flicker of light to guide
me through the murk -
the fog of pain and error and
fallibility that so often
gathers for those of us who
feel too deeply -
who see sensitivity as
more of a curse than a gift …
you understood that path quite well -
walked it many times
as I have …
you knew the beasts
that scratch at our ankles -
those shadowy minions that seek
to rake us into hell with every
step we take in redemption's course
but your light shined so bright!
you held it high and
proud for so long that I took
it for granted - depended on it …
and now that light is snuffed
the black is all the
more oppressive - all the
more glaringly heavy and deep ...
… and empty …
now the path
is twisted, obscured ...
and without the welcome of
your glowing spirit
it will henceforth be cluttered with
ambiguity and question -
each further step, taken in
hesitation and doubt …
tragedy, pain, sorrow, regret
their names matter not -
they wreak the same horrid havoc
and those ragged, merciless monsters
have claimed you …
aye, the sun will rise a wee bit
colder on the morrow, and life’s flavor
is now tinged with bitterness …
still, you left behind a torch of humble exuberance and vitality
and those of us who know the
treacherous paths of life -
those darkened 'parts unknown' -
will hold it high in your memory
and give the devil all he can handle ...
of your mischievous smile
your twinkling eye
and your fierce, fiery heart …
Rest In Peace, Tony.
In the Shadow of Sunlight
It is one of those glaringly bright days that
make your eyes water painfully.
You can't see everything at once but in short glimpses and peeks. Between blinks, half an image forms, blurry around the edges.
You raise your hand as a shield, squint, lean back and tuck your chin, grimacing.
You thought you heard her say your name.
Searching in stuttering snatches,
Looking in limping lunges…
like a slow motion film in staccato strobes.
She begins far away but ends close, so close that her form blocks you from the light and you see her as the shadow of sunlight. She is glowing around the edges like a phantom.
She is smiling into your eyes for a moment.
The relief of sight, of cool darkness, and then gone in a flash of brilliance once again. Balking, you ask her to wait! Wait just a second! Why do your ears depend so much on your eyes? She speaks but without seeing her mouth forming words you're unsure of what she's said…dissipating as she goes anyway until only a whisper.
“I love you darling…”
And that's when I wake up and remember she is gone. Gone for just over 20 years now. An ache in my stomach and tears prick my sleep swollen eyes. I turn to my side and tuck my hand under the pillow…try to get back to my dream.
Sometimes it is the light that blinds us to the truth and darkness that soothes the burn.
Spring arrived, ‘Twas the dawn of man
Consciousness exploded with a Big Bang
We foraged inquisitively for berries and nuts
Soon building settlements and primitive huts
A subtle spark conjured otherworldly fire
And with it came a burning desire
Tales of titans and mythical creatures
Serpents and beasts with grotesque features
Summer arose, out rolled the wheel
Stonework replaced by the forging of steel
Harnessing power from great rivers and streams
Oceans soon conquered by ships of dreams
There were wondrous amphitheaters without a flaw
Spectacular cathedrals that left us in awe
Advances in medicine enhanced our lives
Youthful deaths seemed for the archives
Autumn emerged, the pinnacle of man
Although swarming to billions wasn’t the plan
The thriving Metropolis made man a city dweller
Piercing the sky with scrapers so stellar
Technology progressed to an unfathomable height
Our synapses fired so glaringly bright
We drove motor cars and traversed the stars
And even toyed with the idea of avatars
Winter came, and into ash we did burn
We dug our graves and had nowhere to turn
Conquered by robotics that we impatiently built
Mega cities crumbled to sand and silt
We gave godly power to Artificial Intelligence
Paying the ultimate price when they evolved to sentience
Mighty bombs dropped, and every city fell
The curtains sadly drawn as mankind bids farewell
A young pretty lady, seeking company from an unknown
and to the hospitality of my open arms, she quickly lodge.
A stranger still remains an alien until some acquaintance is established
seeing what is right in front of me, such a feeling was purged.
Sweet conversation, chilly atmosphere and some sense of belonging
are benefits attached, hence nothing observable to judge.
Her youthful exuberance was glaringly into play,
but it was stimulating and an effective nudge.
She’s damn good! - Soft touches, sexual tricks, and erotic riddles,
all put my physiological smoke into heavy surge.
A sudden feeling of satisfaction and a ‘game over’ countenance surfaces,
she’s definitely an expert and what’s next is to dodge.
Taking a polite excuse, she run-walks to the bar’s comfort zone,
my instincts begin to define all her gestures to be a forge.
Then I realize my fat wallet is her hired escort,
officially making me a stranded victim of a beautiful scourge.
Woke up jumped off the couch and
put on a mask
Used in order to survive another average day
Sat on the stairs lit up and smoked
enough to blow a mind and descend
into a heady hazy trance
Oh boy John said to Paul
I just watching the news today
Witnessed both a declaration and a
timely reminder to the everyman
To in no uncertain terms know thy station
know thy place
Within the unwritten small print of the law
Opening Gambit Pincer movement
King Trump's pawn
Check mate
The rich will never see the inside of a court
Otherwise what is the point of being powerful
and wealthy
If it can not pervert the rule of law
The judge and jury have long already
been picked and bought
Why call him Andy
Why not Scott
At very least that rhymes with free
And at a mere cost of 12 Million pieces of
slippery mercury worthless currency
Adorned with his sad tragic mother's face
and royal family crest all across
Matter's not of that I am sure to him he
obviously has a lot and won't go or be left
without
It's no more than tangible proof of yet
another breach of public trust
I only rather wish it was not just another
mistaken reported case of fake news
than simply just another example of
A day in the life
Of the opposing lives of what both
the rich and everyman have to deal with
And the glaringly senseless point of counting
potholes whatsoever however small or
insignificant they appear in the
1st place
If there is absolutely never any desire
or intention of ever actually trying to fix
or repairing them at all
Or is that in actual fact indeed the
case and point being mistakenly overlooked
Far more joy and fun is to be garnished
from rubbing people's noses in and seeing
the look upon disheartened faces
When the final edict and not guilty
verdict is read out in astonishment
Women of the early 1900’s should have been justifiably outraged
Owned like chattel by their men
Elections were held willy nilly
And if you did not have a willy, you were eliminated
The rare woman who thought she should be
a voter, was not even a contender for a listening ear.
Treated rather like a hog, pig, or a cow.
Ostracized by both men and other women.
Women who were given a glimpse of what
could be, by stand-up liberated women like
Susan B. Anthony did not automatically jump on the bandwagon of liberation. These loud obnoxious free-thinking women were no doubt annoying to socialized women whose February was filled with valentine chocolates and love notes rather than protests and marches. Why did the uppity women insist on equal rights and the right to vote?
Many of the well-behaved women were irritated and outraged
by the uppity attitude of these liberated women, encouraging their men
to throw these loud vulgar rabble rousers into jails.
They strongly encouraged the punitive efforts enforced on these troublemakers. Glaringly on board and fearful of change, many women were not yet ready to admit they were equal in wisdom or feelings of their men.
Sadly they did not recognize their worth or take a stand against oppression and did not insist on the right to vote for many years. Adding to the confusion of our masochistic society which even today has not allowed a woman to be President.
A road to nowhere is all they construct
He who blindly follows will self-destruct
We awaken at dawn just to suffer
For many, life couldn’t be any tougher
Their dark cunning plans brought to light
The road to dystopia now glaringly bright
No real care for our sons and daughters
The evidence is in the poisoned waters
Treasured values slowly erode away
Degrading further day after day
People are just sacrificial pawns
To the maniacal of societies higher echelons
Billions spent to find that cancer cure
Trillions more needed, my good sir
A doctor’s visit may set you right
Treat your symptoms for the next fortnight
To a violent world they gravitate
The hidden hand doesn’t hesitate,
The deceived are marched off to war
To adorn their brothers in blood and gore
This digital age is one big prison cell
No more coins to drop in the wishing well
Just another languishing, unanswered dream
That, unfortunately, one cannot redeem
My parents endured marriage, for almost sixty years
duress it set the tone never did they ever seem to be happy
What seemed glaringly so obvious, my father
he was such an impatient angry chappy
My mother gained her driving licence,
when around the age of twenty five or six
she's behind the steering wheel, my father a front seat passenger
suddenly we were grounded, found ourselves in an unnecessary fix
We're travelling ,for some time, behind a semi trailer,
my father silent for a while, with his discomforted anger surging
Suddenly he begins his impatient mantra, Go past, go past, go past
my mother surprisingly kept her mouth shut
but I could sense she was irritated ,by the constant urging
The car came to an unexpected grinding halt
My brother and I in the back seat, startled by the sudden jolt
My mother seized the car keys, through an open window , over the car roof,
tossed those keys as far as she was able
For an hour or two, possibly more, we frantically searched, for those necessary keys
the impatient back seat driver, had for a while, caused us all to be disabled
Not sure who took the drivers seat
when travelling was resumed
As kids we were happy
that the keys had been exhumed
It's now sixty years since I became a driver, but my wife,
who incidentally has no licence to drive
But as a back seat driver, she believes she has a licence to instruct me
for us to maintain safety ,so we may both stay alive
And today whilst we're not even driving,but still,
she has acted like a back seat driver, for this final verse
I accepted her comments as fun, Be it with the poem or even in the car
I love her dearly and I never ever feel the need to curse
Footnote We must always act with compassion. Whilst I have attempted humour with this poem,
I wish to point out that prior to us meeting my wife had a car accident causing loss of life to her partner, as the result of a seizure. She voluntarily gave up her driving licence. This poem was stimulated as a result of her admitting she was a back seat driver.
Back seat driver may possibly be an australian colloquial term. It used to describe a passenger, even if they are in front, who constantly gives advice to the driver
The new language
It was late August, on a glaringly hot day, when I felt dizzy
went to sit on a gigantic carob tree full of beans on thick leaves
to sit in its cooling shade; it was pitch dark inside, and I could see
nothing at all until my eyes got adjusted.
the sheep, seven of them, had sought relief from the sun’s cruelty
My dog refused to enter; she had been head-butted by a ram
the sheep looked alarmed; another human to order them around
but when I sat down among them, they took me for another ram
they continued to chew, looking absent-minded; with white wool
The sheep had white fleece in sharp contrast to the carob beans
that was like the gnarled fingers of a dark person (black is out)
Nothing is the same anymore; some men say they are women and
blithely disregard biological facts as unimportant.
There are no longer any Jews in Israel, now called Israelites
it is as if they are trying to kill the ghost of yesterday by living a lie.
In Denmark, a children’s book was withdrawn showing a black doll
a new book issued, a merger of many faces, quite unreal,
like the faces were drawn by I.A and certified by a committee.
she was a ramshackle, eyesore of a house
Uneven, unsymmetrical, with a plethora of problems
One bright red door made the rest of this mess glaringly sad
And yet, there was a whimsical feeling about this place
Something uplifting, exciting, and promising
my soul felt this as my mind was scrambling to figure out why
She was an unorthodox, maniacal, ramshackle of a place
looked like a haunted house, but in daylight without scariness
Sure, she needed paint, but she had smack dabs of character
She felt inviting, even though her roof was disintegrating
In some way I was drawn in, kind of loving this eyesore of a house.