Long Implosion Poems
Long Implosion Poems. Below are the most popular long Implosion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Implosion poems by poem length and keyword.
“Big”, it is a funny word, it’s loaded with triggers,
And can make you feel every emotion.
If you’re told “Hey, you look big”, you might overthink,
Collapsing in an implosion.
People might say you’ve “big” arms, “big” thighs, or
“big” ears, nose, mouth or “big” eyes.
Not getting that we’re all different, every part of each one of us
Having a different size.
But we feel good if we’re told we have a “big” heart,
That we care when people are in strife.
It implies we give joy, give peace, aid and calm,
Improving how people feel about life.
Also we might view the word “big” as your ambition,
Describing your lifestyle thirst.
You might be proud to have a “big” drive, or “big” hope,
Putting your ambitious intentions first.
You might be “big” on car racing, playing squash, reading books
Or enjoying the camping outdoors.
Or you might be “big” on watching movie marathons of
Harry Potter, The Dark Knight or Star Wars.
So however you feel about the word “big” when listening to others,
Feeling happy, or sad or proud.
Just remember how you say the word “big” to others is loaded,
Say it with love and say it loud.
The universe grows with such momentum,
galaxies go where the big bang sent 'em -
expanding forever.
Bully for the universe,
but I feel I'm going in reverse,
fearing something worse
with no hope whatsoever.
I feel I'm not growing, but shrinking,
and I feel that I must be sinking,
see?
Galaxy-size problems loom,
and I can feel impending doom.
Will gravity one day consume
me?
Universal expansion, I don't begrudge,
yet, I myself cannot budge,
and as I give up all resistance,
Newton's force has me thrashed,
one by one my hopes are dashed,
and I am slowly, surely smashed
into one point of non-existence.
Perilous addiction hell bent completion deluded cohesion.
Negative infusion feathered motion, spiraling down like a crispy weathered October leaf.
Faded grasp like the winter sun in vision the same but a difference so vast
The echo of mankind never seldom to my ear, peace of mind never at cheer
Bellows and bellows of screaming lucid thought crippled by the same resort.
Wonky leg like a wonky chair bruised battered weakened and loose escaping like vaporing air.
The ripple of contained liquid just slight but a mystery to the mass I am inclined
Coned, padded, shut away, forgotten, a pressed particle of cigarette ash in a dormant
Hallway corner,
Noticed by a moment of dust filled beams of light, exhilarating in such short time
Gone again like black from night the acute jest of life, smashed glass left and unoccupied
The heart so cold like bitter urine in survival mode soggy chip squashed under foot nobody cares
Nobody’s good. Lost in a cold shockwave of pain thrown to shore different than any other
Too alien to mention too slain to fear a wondrous maze of capital esteem stagnant in movement
Pointless art all curved and pointless oh where I am and oh where do I start.
Can I awake can I resound is this reality or is it just another calamity. Insanity gone beyond
No track to unravel stability of the foundational start, just a implosion of art.
Implosion of the heart with grim, dark clouds overhead.
Wistful thoughts overwhelm, there are now feelings of dread.
And the shroud of dementia it seems never to part.
With grim dark clouds overhead, implosion of the heart.
The Prognosis is gloomy it leads to depression.
When the mist is withdrawn,my mind clears all impression.
That I can write poetry well, really threw me.
It leads to depression, the prognosis is gloomy.
Loneliness is not my friend, means all memory lost.
Many precious times gone at undeniable cost.
Times of anger or torment, wishing a final end.
Means all memory lost, loneliness is not my friend.
Yet now a man quite sane, there's no hope of me choosing.
Ebb and tide of this morbid disease is confusing.
Melancholy thoughts, I so wish to have a well brain.
There's no hope of me choosing, yet now a man quite sane.
From unknown sources springs a strange, brain-splitting pain.
My physique and psyche burn in the urn of strain
Have my carefully raised moral castles collapsed?
Has my energy, like the toss of time, elapsed?
As though virtues and values have become corrupt
Like lavas of volcanoes, unknown graves erupt.
With whom shall I share my struggles and sufferings?
My cries fall into deaf ears like mad mutterings.
Like a lame, I fail when I try to climb the hills.
It seems like no medic can mend my inner ills.
Nothing, here on earth, appears to be sensible.
My thirst for tranquility is unquenchable.
Blood of pains of isolation flows through my veins
My strength is not strong enough to free me from pains
Who'll ease my jetlag that rises from the void?
Should I be, by viles of normless creeds, annoyed?
I call to God. I seek help from each of my kin.
How, when, and from where will my salvation begin?
I awoke from my cocoon now knowing my time
I'm actually half-human from a dimension defined
But so honoured to be able to look back, and track
To witness such wanton carnage and throw up!
But it's where do I start to tidy up historical mess
As I read back a planet that's severely distressed
North Korean, American, or all with Nuclear extent
Look what you've done now, little left to repent
To amend defend this descend in such destructiveness
Tearing apart the only utopia oasis universal blush
Implosion explosion it's where you've dragged her to be
I'm now somewhere else sitting under somebody's tree
I wish not to see another sunrise.
I wish not to wake another day.
I don’t want to trudge to another class or
drive down another highway or
let my tone deaf voice breach my lips again.
I want to snuff out my flame.
It’s not that there’s no beauty in this world;
every morning, another bird flies for the first time.
Creation is forever constant
and laughter leaves the world ringing
day in
and day out.
I adore that.
I, Frankenstein’s monster,
of wickedness and of sin,
cast a shadow with every step I take.
Every breath I breathe pollutes the air,
crisp from the autumn days
but dead like fallen leaves once we cross paths.
I’m a blackbody that keeps on growing,
and my Hawking radiation burns all to ash and embers.
My self-implosion is a fate that’s fair and just;
the only Good choice is to collapse entirely.
You proud, Plato?
Have you kept who you are?
Do I know your name?
Never too near… never too far
Nothing ever stays the same
I want to know who I am
Do you know enough to tell me?
If you have a way… I have a plan
Will you not know me to make me see?
Perhaps I rather be unknown
A restless stranger in wholesome intimacy
A someone with no one home
A naturalist in every expectancy
Do you know that someone?
With that certainty and that confusion?
A somewhere with nowhere to run
A someone formed from that one implosion
Do you dare to know who you are?
Do you know my name?
Ever too near… never too far
Everything never stays the same
Dusk
we stir
hands in roam
adventurous
her scent captures me
teasing, her touch excites
meandering souls unite
curvaceously in dancing sync
such pertness allures, emotions run
quenched lips joyously grace, in kissing taste
cresting like breakers, rhythmical in soar
arching as hips grind, shadows abound
hands now clasped, sporadic sighs
loving chants of desire voiced
inner release erupts
implosion occurs
panting curbed
two in lie
content
Loved
~*~ Touch Me - Dusk written by James Fraser for entry into Nette's ~*~
“TOUCH ME COUNT-UP AND DOWN” - Contest
One day, Brad felt overwhelmingly sad
The next day Brad was raging mad
Following this day, Brad was feeling glad
This was the best day that Brad had had
One day, Suzy had been crying all day long
The next day Suzy was cheerily singing a song
Following this day, Suzy wasn't feeling so strong
Suzy was feeling like she didn't belong
One day, Peter woke up feeling quite flat
The next day Peter happily met Brad for a chat
Following this day, Peter was worried about his cat
His cat that day had been bitten by a rat
One day, Paige's mind was all over the place
The next day, Paige had a smile upon her face
Following this day, Paige wasn't feeling quite as ace
All Paige wanted was to have her own space
Whether you're Paige, Peter, Suzy or Brad
and whether you're sad, happy worried or mad
The emotional whiplash you get isn't really all that bad
because it means you're still living, even if it's just a tad
My name is Paige and I write poetry when feeling emotion
It's like taking medicine when sick, or applying a cream or lotion
Sometimes I write in order to avoid conflict or commotion
Writing poetry helps me avoid a mental health implosion
I hope these words on some level do resonate with you
I write from the heart and these feelings I describe are true
I hope you find courage to write when you're feeling blue
because you'll feel better afterwards, as it really helps me too
Sending love from Paige to all of you in Poetry Soup
I Value the support from this amazing community group
Our 'Espirit-de-corps' has me letting out a whoop
It's a lifeline to cling to, a lifebuoy, a hoop
'Espirit-de-corps' - Definition: the common spirit existing in the members of a group and inspiring enthusiasm, devotion, and strong regard for the honour of the group.