Long Hysteric Poems
Long Hysteric Poems. Below are the most popular long Hysteric by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hysteric poems by poem length and keyword.
A curse that’s worse than the pandemic
Greedier populist verse became totemic
No halt of their catapult assault systemic
Seedier social media game now endemic
Whether it be some chanting panting cleric
Will ration all compassion not really angelic
Always decanting another ranting hysteric
Doubts planting the enchanting evangelic
Oligarchy malarkey their tarnished polemic
Climate fires rage but won’t call the medic
Derails with varnished tales any academic
Preening demeaning all left leaning satiric
Dystopian & myopian totally Machiavellic
We burn they’re still lippy well it’s generic
With their heinous intravenous hypodermic
Even if taciturn with boring name like Derek
Yearn for return of hippy trippy psychedelic
Not dippy all learn nature can be mesmeric
Don’t spurn love soars above stratospheric
Loss caused by powerlessness and helplessness as its heart,
Gloom and sorrow and sadness as its despondent spare part;
Anger and fear as lifeblood; despair and guilt as its veins;
With somber moods, melancholy is a bundle of pains...!
I undergo the resonance of my inner unease,
My pain pains me; my anger angers me; my joys soon cease;
With no physical accident, I undergo trauma,
Temples are seen all around me, without the true Brahma...!
With lethargic, listless, lacking luster as its liver,
No fervor in things around; yet, acts as a lawgiver;
Where's my hunger gone? Why very often this sleeplessness?
Deep within, like restless seabed currents, whirls hopelessness...!
Illusion as the brain and delusions as its large screen,
Tensions and turmoil, as though cruel beasts, are always seen;
Dejection, depreciation, glumness, and gloominess,
Self-condemnation, like tides, fluctuate my fuzziness...!
As cine screens alter, feelings go senile hysteric,
Pseudo zeal, zest, and enthusiasm soon turn barbaric;
Like poles of the north and the south or the head and the tail,
Why are feelings of violence and suicide crucial...?
Isn't, yet, this anatomy affirmative as well?
Doesn't it pulsate me to ponder over my death knell?
I grow, as a wounded, aware of all facts and fancies,
This is the anatomy that par excels the deep seas...!!!
12 May 2023
Anatomy of Melancholy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
Time is timeless. Uncontrolled! Unquestioned!
Unfaultable! Unopposed! Unfathomed!
She keeps everyone very humbly tied.
The universe, at Time's command, gets swayed.
I can't decide my age. Time does for me.
I'm fifty today? Of course, she lies not.
I will not wait, she says. 'Never stop me'.
Flow with me or fly with me it's your lot.
She was when I was born. She's as I live.
She will be when I die; my course to end.
In my sorrow and joy; or hate and love;
In my goodness or bad, she's till the end.
Time has a harmonious flow. Dusks! Dawns!
Not a river. She's very well rhythmic.
Time commands, demands yet victory crowns,
Time's timings are hysteric! Historic!
I asked the time, once, of her destructions.
She said 'I neither create nor destroy,
I am at the avail of all beings.
Use me or misuse - is your array.'
Time is a good friend. Time can be a foe.
Time, the greatest of a benefactor;
Time can be a blessing. Life's greatest glow!
I am my Time's treasure's sole shareholder.
Time, O beloved! Be benevolent!
Imperfect as I am, make me content.
Do not waste my existence as vacant.
Bless me with graces gracious, abundant.
27 May 2021
Time Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
majestic mountains!
are these hill chains telling tales?
trees are hysteric...
head held high homely,
cliffs strive to kiss the bright sky ---
hands outspread in joy...
hiding and seeking,
are clouds lovingly taunting?
shy evening stars flush...
golden sunbeams shine,
are these blooms on rocks dancing?
vibrant valleys vamp...
streams midst plants babble,
do ripples tickle these ponds?
schools of fish squiggle...
green carpets spread out,
Are these cranes on fashion shows?
doves and crows converse...
waterfalls trickle,
are these rustling leaves gabbling?
parrots in romance...
How splendid celestial scenes...!!!
How finely twilight applies lipstick to the sky!
His brush touches each fold as the sky does shy.
Eyebrows and eyelashes he so minutely paints,
As though powerful prayers and blessings of the saints...!
Why do Nyx and Hyades at this juncture weep,
As though widowed by Zeus lost their eternal sleep?
Maiden stars get wet and miss their timely twinkle,
Rain, as though hysteric, on clouds showers sprinkle...!
The moon, entering, like a bold ballet dancer,
Blinks as though to the night's quiz he has no answer;
Nature, as routine, her seasonal games enacts,
Nyx, Hyades and Zeus act as per rhythmic facts...!!!
03 March 2023
In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Ongoing war
A not tall, a rather pudgy little man
who is an absolute ruler over his twenty million-something inhabitants
Got visited by another powerful man, who is slim
but not tall like his diplomat
the fat man was happy, had his country turning out
waving flags, their dance and jubilation
photo taken, fraternity and contracts signed
For the absolute ruler, who had his brother killed
to be sure of his power, it was a great opportunity
to take, not so tall man, around looking at things
the visitor had won a war and was in high spirits, smiled
patted his strands of hair and asked himself
since his host harvests hair as a big business, should he ask for a discreet rug?
He decided not to ask, his face is so well known
that jokers in the foreign press would make jokes
make him look vain
He did the masculine thing, buying artillery shells
instead, not that he needs a lot to know
but one never knows what hysteric people can do
those who cannot accept defeat.
Husband constantly beating and batting,
His kiths, like allies, consciously hitting;
Father-in-law, in his way commanding,
Mother-in-law, dire duties demanding;
Neighbors mocking at physical darkness,
Her skinny dullness and financial weakness;
Her aspiration to be fullness gone,
Seeds of hatred in each heart around sown;
Losing her solid ground beneath her feet,
She, like a little lamb, started to bleat;
Some stood shocked; some so terribly awestruck,
Some said she's mad; others, she's hysteric;
Whatever might whoever might have thought,
Whatever view, she on her, might have wrought;
Mystery over her started growing,
Mastery of her wisdom grew glowing;
She talked of heaven, hell and highest skies,
Assured of abundant heavenly pies;
Her sermons varied from great wealth to health,
She talked on glamour of glorious death;
All listened seem to see in her strengths strange,
Her deliberateness seemed seeds of change;
They saw avatar of goddess kali,
In her they found Durga, Radha, Lakhsmi;
Her husband, forever, stopped batting her,
Kith and kin pleasantly extolled her stir;
Father-in-law still; mother-in-law calm,
Life, to her, turned sooth-tranquilizing balm;
Learning, thus, tackling of trickling issues,
Our hamlets have now many such goddesses...
01 February 2022
Puppeteer was what some say of this style.
Yet, what's wrong if it's my style for a while?
Crocs for cracks; some say with sure mockery,
Can mockery knock modern hosiery?
Some wear fur-lined like squirrels protruding,
When gardening, other squirrels squeaking...
Under tens wear. Their moms go hysteric,
Red, green, yellow - fashions very mystique...
Some wear with wet socks and walk on a beach,
Some in jeans torn crocs worn out new style teach...
Some, when wearing these, wear Buddha silence,
That none dare to tease them or make comments.
Some walk carefree in these as though saying,
It's my comfort. You needn't keep worrying.
====
===
Crocs on, I'd been to a village rural,
The glance rustics threw on me was cruel.
So, a modern monkey - they might have thought,
Laughed, giggled dumping all my smiles to naught...
When the crocs got wet and started quacking,
Ducks inside they said; acted as catching...
I wore socks and they got wet and muddy,
They compared me to a joker buddy...
No one there wore slippers leave alone shoes,
The odd man out - subtly increased my woes.
I gave explanations to convince them,
None convinced. I was in the hem of shame.
When I removed and got set them aside,
A dog pissed on them and damaged my pride.
I came home thinking to teach them later,
With improved facts to convince them better.
I entered the village, my black shoes on,
‘Here's the joker’, they said, ‘turtle shell on’.
12 June 2021
fuzzy socks and crocs Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Francine Roberts
Don’t count me out because
I’m not in lockstep with you,
and before I nonchalantly dropkick myself
back to the starting point,
let me point out that because of my whiteness,
I am not
a knuckle dragging racist, hysteric, insurrectionist,
white supremacist, terrorist, cultist,
deplorable, irredeemable,
nor a hypocrite or illiterate.
And the recent gender-neutral policy?
I am
a woman, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt and first cousin.
I have a mortgage, enjoy Jamaican stew, and
I am married to a black man.
I’m originally from Idaho. It’s okay to ask me
“Where are you from?” or “Where were you born?”
I promise I won’t accuse you
of micro-aggression.
I do not have guilt.
I stand my ground,.
It’s okay if you do not like what I have to say:
but I remain a
free White woman who
believes in constitutional principles.
Yes—words do matter
...Is a wonder, I must say, with full conviction,
It's a large 'marine cavern' or a 'sinkhole';
That's open wide with many a deviation
Who else except Nature has absolute control?
Blue holes are caves developed over time, it's true,
As rocks get erode and collapse, scientists say;
Huge icicles, molding sheets, and hard columns-crew,
Built marvelously like the ocean's Milky Way...
Egyptian Blue holes are the highest danger, proved,
Owing depletion of breathable oxygen;
There are more Blue holes in Andros, crookedly graved,
Starting from 'the saddle' and leading to cavern...
Nature has made it miracle so marvelous,
What human beings do is, indeed, mockery;
We have experienced the Red-sea dive fearless,
When we overdo to Blue hole it's treachery.
A virgin diver, indeed, needs to take full care,
Of the Blue hole's hysteric tantrum-filled blue tomb;
And the sharks she hides abundantly Everywhere,
And the tunnels and subverted caves in her womb.
The blue hole is one of Nature's works most wondrous,
Making it or marring it -is- on human's court;
Let's vow we'd care for Nature's unique miracles,
And Her astounding deeds adore and venerate.
13th May 2021
Blue Hole Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco