Long Gnash Poems
Long Gnash Poems. Below are the most popular long Gnash by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gnash poems by poem length and keyword.
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When you have fallen fast asleep,
I'll crawl toward your hall and creep
out through your door...
Advancing quickly through the gloom,
I'll prance into your living room
and as you snore,
I'll pulverize your rug and purr,
while sizing up your Douglas fir,
and when I...
LEAP!
I'll dangle ever frantically,
until each spangle from your tree
is in a HEAP!
I'll SLASH your floppy socks's toes
and GNASH your boxes tops's bows
in savage bites!
Then lift, at last, my pretty tail
and spritz a blast of 'Kitty Male"
...to wreck your lights!
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It's mother nature's dance
spring growth dubiously enhanced
resting beneath the summer sun
bees, birds and butterflies on the run;
hurried in and out the garden gate
nestling in the flower blossoms safe
a melodic hum drum
to the beauty of the season come.
It makes me smile, causes me to see
the simplicity of life in every bumblebee
to feel the flutter of butterfly wings
listening to every bird that sings;
a warble, tweet and trill
holds my heart with every thrill
some garbled fish swim splash
escaping the heron's gnash.
The waterfall dance
stretched along the stones tranced
with each reflections of some petal fall
mixed colors from palette painted scrawls;
a dragonfly zipping along the pickerel
beauty quite visceral
the grandeur elaborate and intense
this year's rainbow along the fence.
Welcome one, welcome all
to the wonder and beauty of the garden's call.
FORGIVE ME
I ask that you do forgive me, please
Judging poems is no spiffing wheeze
Needing some skills but no degrees
As reading always takes some time
Seeking syllable counts and rhyme
Few are trash or destined to be ash
Maybe haute cuisine or rice’n’peas
Some clever wording can still tease
Upon le mot juste to quickly seize
And good free verse is not a crime
Any voice is preferred over mime
If too brash, then teeth will gnash
As emotions will flow in the breeze
Some words bring me to my knees
Meaning is lost without those keys
I am older, no longer in my prime
Choosing winners is a hill to climb
Sorry no cash, but I must now dash
Oh, will man forever be so blind
like the stalled and baggage burdened horse
who gallops blinders on, and always to the whip.
Will the origin bit gnash the gums
raw and pink with memory of conception?
Thy reign, my mane, a breeze blown wave
of many colors born through the gates of G-d.
Remove the blinders, black and worn
which block the shift of life without.
Turn your gaze from the rutted road of anguish.
Run upon the lawn of endless life and be reformed.
Look within for brightest bits of light.
Say yes, I can, I will, I am, for I am kind,
and warm and loving, as are Thee,
and I will live no longer blind, scourging the outside
for that which is Thee..is also here..inside of me.
written just a couple weeks before the lease at prior abode would expire, and no affordable habitat....just by happenstance and a thankful invisible hand of destiny.
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To avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness
which near future prospect
induces existential angst i confess.
Today, i wanna die and bid god riddance grandly
going gamesomely gra grave,
de deum, and cymbal crash
to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually -
all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash
how tempting to seek a solution sans hemlock
or other deadly potion,
whereby toothless mouth need not gnash
boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of
mortal freedoms renting psych ass under
with purposelessness mine hash
tag, which bout with suicide
while n the edge of thirteen -
Anorexia nervosa defeated -
then as now experience
10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash
lacerating, flagellating,
and repeatedly rousing thoughts
shin to circle back to why
death be not proud when life on par with a mash
up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus
analogous luft Waffe bombardiers quash
the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring
in step happy jollity,
and levity attempt to make light
of psychological me's mental illness rash
whence thru the lvii roam min years
as chief garbage taster of trash
hurled my way gnome matter
gremlins dwelt within the Wabash
distance to inflict din er of dissonance
targeted this mortal for'er abash
as soon as he got expelled from the womb,
his reddened ears did bash
from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses
into the maternity ward of me late mum sped like dash
her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate
a con vixen dancer, cuz ova this rude half
re: that came a boot
from genetic chromosomal DNA wash.
I’ve brewed so many potions still you are
I’ve made elixirs from hydrogen to quiet you
Nothing I do is a cure for my lonesome electron
We all have a voice spinning around in our heads
Are yours as loud as a hungry child unquelled?
Are yours like a steel fork dragging on glass?
Silhouettes of thoughts ready to gnash
You are resistant to my entreaties to stop
Noises should retreat to the background
Mine craves the foreground with monster wails
My voice hates crowds and pounces when alone
I am a captive company trashing our home
No amount of lithium will quiet your voice
No lurasidone will quiet your psychosis
Till death do us part we thrashing for release
There was a time when you and I were one
Somewhere in my youth, your evil entered me
You were thrown into the closet with my childhood
Now I’m old the hinges have rusted
The locked door has been clawed to death
I feel your evil talons gnashing a way out
As a scarred door portends, we want freedom
Do I bring out my whip or feed you treats?
Do I show Heisenberg’s theory of uncertainty?
When my spirit is low, it welcomes me home
I welcome evil, but the tiger invites me in
It asks me to enter, but I open an empty sack
Evil comes like a kitten to its father and enters
It calls itself Pygmalion asking me to loosen up
I teach it English, but it drills in me monster speak
I teach it how to use forks and spoons
It shows me how much pitchforks hurt
Thank you for being my test subject
It’s my life’s work to say thanks with sincerity
An education with graduation day out of reach
It’s my life’s work to enter the closet with a tiger
The way out is in without a care of consumption
As it feeds my body daily, I will teach satiety
May it teach me to no longer fear hunger
The potion I longed for was myself
There are those in our society
who scream about fighting bigotry,
claim that we hate people with dark skin,
when you fired for insulting them,
claim that our women fear for their lives,
when the female sex is lionized,
claim that no one cares about the poor,
but nowhere else do the poor have more.
They keep having to go redefine
what bigotry must be in their minds
to find a new foe for them to ‘fight,’
...Or find excuses to smear the right,
when in truth on us they do project
their own prejudice, which we reject,
and in their gaslighting they won’t see
the types of remaining bigotry.
These days if you hate folks with skin pale
nobody gets up to gnash and wail,
no one declares you’re on the warn track
the way they would do if you were black.
In fact, degenerate leftists hordes
instead cry out that we should see more!
That their skin color makes them a blight,
they should apologize for being white?!
That an arbitrary fact of birth
is what should determine your self-worth?
That if you look one way you should bear
guilt forever, and endless despair
for sins of generations long gone?
That you’re responsible for their wrong?
That you alone pay for slavery,
when it was done by all societies,
be it black, brown, red, or yellow shade,
but it’s only one tint that must pay?
When you can shut down discussion hale
by screaming shrilly,”You’re a white male!”
When your claim pale folks are ‘born racist,’
and should not be allowed to persist?
When folks like I note the hypocrisy
the powers then try to silence me,
anti-white racists, the truth is plain,
allow this bigotry to remain...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Too much to do looms
like storm clouds above my desk,
heavy with despair
I stare into candle flames
hearing deadlines gnash their teeth.
Within a bubble,
I call avoidance self-care,
hide beneath soft screams;
but my body knows the truth—
comfort loves hiding away.
Encased I feel safe
until the walls grow too close,
air thins, stinks with fear
each new unopened letter
becomes another locked jaw.
Outside, people march
with tired hope in hands and heart,
though bruised, still awake
finding cure for helplessness
inside the struggle itself
I start one small task,
cross one inhibition off;
suddenly my lungs
remember how breathing works
when action enters the room.
Perhaps I’ll own less,
perhaps the world stays unfair,
perhaps love still fails;
yet facing fire head-on
makes the spirit stand up tall.
There’s a despair tax
for caring deeply enough
to keep fighting back;
but the truest form of relief
is to turn around, face it.
When giving gifts, it’s nice to try
To tailor every choice you buy
To that which each recipient
Would like and doesn’t cost a mint.
Some options jump out in a flash
While others cause your teeth to gnash
And as the holidays draw near
Anxiety may thus appear.
Decisions aren’t life or death,
So calm yourself and take a breath.
If no gift seems the perfect one,
Just anything beats giving none.
Resort to generalities
For often, they may even please –
Some candy, flowers, books or wine
Will do the trick and you’ll be fine.
Remember – it’s the thought that counts
But how I wish I could renounce
The ritual of gifts exchanged
Which, yearly, makes me feel deranged.
Peter went downwards
Onto a bed of black mud
To rest his filled mind
From questions of the cold wind
And prayed to the Son
For the burning white fire
He was thus blinded
Briefly by a burning light
He opened his eyes
And saw Jesus on the tree
Nailed, bleeding, dying
So, Peter pleaded
And wailed for Elijah‘s light
Wailed for salvation
Christ joyfully laughed three times
Bitter and confused
He raised a question to Christ
“Why are you laughing
As I and the cosmos weep
Tears of stars fall down
As the firmament’s soul breaks?”
The living Jesus
Smiled and answered his brother
“I laughed the first time
Because you fear the cold wind
And the bythus veiled
I then laughed a second time
Because your spirit
Is not ready to feel cold
From the cosmic wind
I laughed the third and last time
Because I am free
From flesh and cosmic waters
I am returning
To the light gardens of rest
Where the burning wind
Blows life on the diamond soil”
Peter glared at him
With his right eye shedding tears
Filled with rose red blood
With his left eye shedding tears
Filled with bitter salt
Christ saw the duality
And gave his last words
“You rejected me three times
And you heard the crow
I have affirmed life three times
I now hear the song
Of a dove calling me home”
With that, Christ transformed
Into a huge Cross of Light
And ascended high
High above the shattered sky
Peter bowed his head
And looked at the shifting earth
And loudly proclaimed
“May Christ the Son’s example
Breathe forth blazing flames
So I will not fear the wind
That cold, cosmic wind
May Barbelo the Mother
The Holy Spirit
Prepare my soul to feel cold
While most gnash their teeth
May the Father of Greatness
The One above god
Free me from flesh and this world
The world of Saklas
Receive me into his love
In the clear garden”
The vision of light ended
And Peter arose upwards
Inspired by the ancient text: The coptic Apocalypse of Peter. And a story from the Desert Fathers.