Long Impasse Poems

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


Defecation Dilemma

gluteus maximus left and right half moon cheek

re: byte size buttock attached via usb 
   
(uniform firm behind) to this freak

with bowel movement 
   
incontinence + gas filled gut evoking contortionist 
   
frown stretching to lowest peak

perched upon porcelain goddess 

   where elimination did jut held captive hostage 
   
atop toilet seat for many a week

exertion to expel rock solid turd required utmost effort

to force jammed bowel movement free

inducing excruciating abdominal cramps really hurt

plus sharp jabbing spasms within high knee

innards rent asunder 
   
obstruction as canon gun size BALLS did spurt

lodged fecal matter refusing to budge from me

caused by severe constipation 

   whereby prayer a waste delivered only increased 

   sphincter muscle to scream

for rectal relief this mortal man faced

a worse fate than death, he would deem

since demise would allow alimentary misery to cease

versus remaining in this impasse for what might be years

unless perchance **** lubricant or special grease

would bust loose abominable 
   
constriction in arrears finding me unable 

   to pay rent or renew lease

best prospect of remaining stationary 

   with words to wax

poetic found a glimmer of luck

when a kind wildebeest 

   delivered this message via fax

to help this male in dire per situation getting 

   pam purred poop unstuck with outsize mug of exlax

to help unclog rectal muck

access to get expunged to the max

but once expulsion occurs 

   DO DO PLEASE DUCK!


Premium Member House of Cards

The truth is there are
“Very fine people on both sides”
(and of course scoundrels on both sides too)
Because that’s the way people are 
Good and bad, sometimes both
Depending on context.

It’s been this way in every conflict 
From World Wars to local elections,
Family squabbles and schoolyard brawls.
And it’s how it will always be
Which should give us all a token of solace
No matter which side we’re on
Since neither good nor evil will ever win out.

Which means the conflicts will never end
Which should give some degree of solace 
To those who love to fight.

But here we are today in a situation 
Where something has to give
Someone has to be held accountable 
Prosecuted, tried, judged and sentenced 
For crimes against country and fellow man,
And some of those deserve to die.

Because if people don’t suffer for their crimes
Then the crimes will just grow
And become an accepted part of life, 
The way business gets done
In the halls of power 
And on the streets.

And this is where we are today
At a delicate juncture of power and justice
Having to decide which thread to pull
To make the changes
And yet somehow not collapse
The whole house of cards.

(2/25/25)
Form: Narrative

November

The air is so crisp, it sparkles
The scents – so invigorating, they invite you into the sweet aroma of the homestead
The rain- so refreshing, it cleanses you of old slights
The wind sweeps you into its own vortex

Leaves are crackling on the soggy earth
Cinnamon and pumpkin spice scents are wafting through the air
The taste of chocolate is in your mouth

There’s pause and suspension in the atmosphere 
As nature awaits
It’s as if an impasse has occurred
The world listens to the next step
Blindfolded, trees stand at attention 
while an icy spells blasts the atmosphere into order

Expecting its instructions, the world simmers down 
and covers itself in the first dusting of the snow
Serenity is claimed…

A Beast of Chirality

I blink my eyes and then the world is gone. 

Open once again to see some peons upon the lawn.

They came to hear the Lion yawn and swipe a wife by dawn.

That's why I keep my pride and believe,

to conceive that it's respite is my reprieve.

But you yuppies be just mere pawns in the grand scheme;

placed at rank 2 file C.

I treat myself to treats I don't need to ask the priest.

I fill a lady's niche when God's dead like Friedrich Nietzsche.

I'm an autonomous man, the world needs me.

Due to greedy deeds, I lost the lot of you to petty thievery.

Now standing orthogonal to the bishop you orthodox Cis.

Tearing holes in the fabric of time while mother nature sits and knits that. 

Amidst a scrimmage over minish mishaps, fisticuffs and misfired mitts with whiplash.

Hexed by wind and turbulent syntax.

As activists vehemently flail at the fascist crux; only to be met by impasse.

Making my attempt to love exclusively an outward expression;

a barrage of affection bombarding the good intentions of a meta-man’s vision.

Otherwise known as fortified Freudian defense mechanisms.

To deal with ideals in an asymmetric system. 

Oh but I pray praise that I am what I be.

Hallow thy be virile amongst a creed of faulty seeds.

Yet I’m an enantiomer, a Chiral Beast;

my courage can never be superimposed upon the fear of defeat.

Finally granted with the Coupe de Gras when disagreements meet.

As if graced by chance, I advance with the apex of a Sword’s vertice.

Striking clean from the left to then evade your deceit.

I take a seat while a woman cleans my wounds with peace.

Ahh but even in victory, the warrior’s woe must be debriefed.

Smore Sprawling Poppycock

S'more sprawling poppycock

Chock·a·block discombobulated poem
for your reading pleasure
dashed off ad hoc
my final literary endeavor before
hour hand affixed
to intricately carved cuckoo clock
displaying carved leaves, birds,
deer heads (Jagdstück design),
other animals, aquatic militia man,

etc feigns firing flintlock
(announcing onset of
daylight savings times)
said French soldier christened Jacque
dipping paddles of oarlock
into time stream
as the sun beats down,
he doth shockingly unfrock.

Once again modest wily word wizard
sports, struts his stuff inarguably
a blinding blizzard
of poetic gumbo mumbo jumbo,
his convoluted crafted vizard
easily misinterpreted as offal
lee batty, quirky, snooty, trippy...
who honestly doesn't know A from izzard.

The ticking seconds will not wait
while yours feebly cobbles etches
across blank figurative slate
lame resultant impasse I narrate
experiencing disappointment
earlier spurt of balderdash,
gibberish, rubbish... which I hate
yet must suffice impossible mission
to complete satisfactory poem does agitate.

Vainglorious idea to employ
daylight savings time
even a mediocre reasonable rhyme
futile effort finds current strife prime
juncture to breakaway
and resume later nighttime or
call writing aspiration quits
crowded house that for being sublime?

Unlikely literary pursuit or aim
will find yours truly a best seller
never experiencing accolades
nor remuneration to claim
truth be told, cuz I haint seeking
neither fortune nor fame.

The principle impetus explaining zeal
to discipline generic human to hone
his ability, where basic blocks of English
language (words) linkedin incorporating
mental cogs and gears mesh
making (mishmash) as figurative wheel
in the sky keeps on turning

perhaps divine intervention 
intercedes as yours truly takes 
lock, stock, and barrel of himself, one
bumbling, grumbling, tumbling schlemiel
cue hapless characteristic vagrant tramp
as viewed courtesy black and white newsreel
enroute to meet cobbler, cuz worn out heel
actually kind individual stopped to offer hobo 
an uber lyft courtesy fancy automobile.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Odysseus's Quest

I succumb not to thee; to this mast I shall stay bound
As yonder lie lost souls of unjust blood, and gore alas
Play victim to sirens songs and lyres, nor be drowned
This ship will sail sharpen rocks, allow not an impasse 

As yonder lie lost souls of unjust blood, and gore alas
As sirens with lyres continue, in their so unholy quest 
This ship will sail sharpen rocks allow not an impasse
My sailors' ears dulled by wax, heeds not thy request

As sirens with lyres continue in their so unholy quest 
With arms and hands to oars, waves broken succumb 
My sailors' ears dulled by wax, heeds not thy request 
As in competition the siren's lyre strings more strung

With arms and hands to oars waves broken succumb
And forewarned sailors to their calls shall they defeat
As in competition the siren's lyre strings more strung
With intentions that with your death you should meet

And forewarned sailors to their calls shall they defeat
To pass yonder this island, where siren’s cast their ail 
With intentions that with your death you should meet
As on the shores lie the bodies of all those that failed

To pass yonder this island, where Siren’s cast their ail
Play victim to sirens songs and lyres, nor be drowned
As on the shores lie the bodies of all those that failed 
I succumb not to thee to this mast I shall stay bound
Form: Pantoum

Premium Member Moon That Once Was

Rising with a sunny day she looks to blue sky
Reminiscing about sweet memories gone by
Knowing too well where the dark clouds hide
Clouds that thunder to dissipate her sunshine

Familiar deliberations partner on her walks
Haunting her path with discarded thoughts
Reigning without consent her desolate mind
A mind that torments flashing dreary signs

From a distance he views the way she lives
As indifference within he harbors willfully
For the pain she caused breaking his heart
His heart that now detests the world at large

Giving final try to move spirits deadlocked
He meets her tacitly at the edge of impasse
But the sun sets soon and the moon's no show
The moon that once was emblem of romance

October 10, 2018
Placed first in Late 2018 standard contest by Brian Strand
Form: Verse

Off the Beaten Track

A plethora of attention
focused on twentieth anniversary
regarding terrorist attacks
upon American soil nine eleven
two thousand and one,
thus Schwenksville poet
opted for his best métier write.

While riding atop a yak
both feet went wickety wack
trudging beast of burden a throwback
to the brainchild
of John Mauchly and J. Presper Eckert
devised Electronic Numerical
Integrator and Computer
otherwise dubbed ENIAC
cumbersome invention
programing machine no easy knack
also impossible mission or fit in pocket
book versus handy to tote
laptop perfect fit inside day pack.

As an aging long haired
pencil neck geek baby boomer
who reckons himself
as schleppy (snoop doggy dog) self groomer
cannot escape scornful passersby
sneering, snickering and snorting
at me, an utter embarrassment to humanity,
who also sports sophomoric humor.

Unfair for yours truly
to saddle anonymous readers
which travails of mine
analogous overburdening
an old decrepit ass,
hence lumpenproletariat
marxist (brother) fellow,
whose insensitivity
could be interpreted as crass

subsequently aiming figurative sights
upon fresh fields,
where leaves of grass
harvested by me one
Norwegian bachelor farmer wannabe
ofttimes dashes off to Lake Woebegone
to escape madding crowds who harass

him, cuz he accentuates whole foods
with plenty of fiber to avoid
experiencing lower gastrointestinal impasse
acquiring moniker windbag
courtesy humongous formed rectal mass
necessitating the expertise of Nass
(another name for Nishga -

a member of a branch
of Tsimshian people
of British Columbia inhabiting Nass
River basin and/or dialect of Tsimshian
spoken by Nishga)
homeopathic remedies outclass
those of 21st century medicine,

said indigenous people
interpret objection toward their
age old medicinal practice as sass
even consider disagreement violation,
a figurative criminal mind to trespass
and the subject in question
a veritable, (albeit harmless) wiseass.
Form: Rhyme

Tropic of Cancer

"Tropic of Cancer"



Follow the silent trail
words like stars shine
coded on straight lines 
blind to all

like diamonds 
they are invisible
the keys 
written and held

Winter stars puzzle the sky
Northward a cold frontier 
waits beckoning
Capricorn’s Summer's dream

Escape Hell South
Where Heaven is a blue sky 
golden beach purgatory
littered with pristine fingernail shells

Chinaman's Beach
the child grown
no more school bells
days are long and free to roam

Nine inch nails
to be buried in 
some other coffin
burned and pushed out to sea

Cancer has been kissed away
alongside Soldier crabs and
prisoners in 
Balmoral Beach cells

Wolves breathe hot 
on cool paws 
smiling wet lips
for thanksgiving

Circle of Magic
drawn in the warm sand
Ocean lapping 
King tide kissing bare feet

On the other side
a future waiting, calling
Omen of higher self chairs
voices in the mind debating

(LadyLabyrinth/2019)




“Impasse”, Angel Oslen
https://youtu.be/kWUtALx9i14







Impasse/ Lyrics
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/angelolsen/impasse.html


Emilie Simon - Fleur De Saison
https://youtu.be/W3RUJ22Ca2k

Premium Member Stock Market Drivel

Torrid sunshine blisters reign on pavement,
that colour coded coffee stain slipway,
bearer of insole-laden footwear,
open source channel for glib hot air calculus  from starchy social climber, stock market drivel flies off tongue,
strolling human morph blasé with pin pad digit  as foundation.  
Monumental science, deep seat hi tech driver,
 gigabyte trencherman data daze diet.
Brain spur gourmet chew astride.
Former high  school swot an Eiffel Tower skyline ace thrust  upon a  thrill weaver gold rush,
never found but one can always dream.
YouTube zeitgeist earthling
has this inner sense of being  from another planet,
 this quaint fast lane time zone voyageur.
Like house trained pets they watch their  owner grudgingly abandon sham control.
Wafer thin leash a scrimshaw ornament. 
 The plot thickens but somehow comes undone,
bit part player yearns holistically for untangled bits with interlocking  act,
 in depth scene dialogue now bill topper  if only it would last.
They long for blue flag coast escape, 
homely hide out guest house fringe found loitering perniciously or otherwise.
Birdhouse green leaf copycat 
assembly for well intentioned like minds that rarely think alike unless it suits.
Caught between ephemeral impasse and amber moon orb dalliance, their noble quest waylay but an out of date signage in urgent need of reinvention.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace