Long Imprisons Poems
Long Imprisons Poems. Below are the most popular long Imprisons by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Imprisons poems by poem length and keyword.
Can anybody tell me how they get over that synonym,
Missing.
I am unable to regulate my soul,
It doomed my thoughts, defeated
my entity, dictated the pleasure's
off me, to feel the Moment.
Missing, is my unique enemy,
has haunted me since my
children left our home,
dominated my shadow,
conditioned my brain,
provoked my tears,
drowned my vitality,
created my vindictiveness,
refusing to be optimistic,
allowing it to torment my
darkness, dictated my pain,
captivated by this unique
synonym, I sense it's tantrum
everywhere, how can I omit it?
anyone can help me? it was always
there, but I was not helpless,
I am today. Now
I was born with a heart, I cannot find it,
I am a bought slave with my own purchases,
how weak have I gone down the ladder lately,
how desperate have I allowed to be taken
for granted by the word Missing, why?
is aging doing all that? have I become
so wounded by giving up my strength.
When I was younger, I had ways to accept,
to understand, to not allow it to take over
my few remaining years, I was healthy,
strong, had aims, was in love, made love,
I used to go out, now left alone.
Deserted.
I used to visit my children, I felt alive,
healthy, even old it did not affect me
the way it does those days, loosing hope
of wanting to survive, it engulfs all my
existence, become so much stronger than
I am.
Missing, I am its slave, worst, intentionally,
allowing it to stab me, it blocks all my doors,
it imprisons me. I am in prison. Now.
Can someone come and get me?
I am not drinking, cooking, put make up,
dress or go out, paralyzed, under its feet,
no life, I beg like a beggar, I get no answer,
it destroyed my brain, my thoughts, my surreal,
destroyed all my tissues,
negative thoughts are born nowadays,
weakened my system, my strength
is drained.
I am a mother, Oh universe, it leaves me
breathless, weak, make me strong, I am hungry,
feed me, I am judgmental, forgive me, no patience,
angry, I am destroying myself, carry me to the ocean,
drown me intentionally before I become selfish,
I stopped being there for my children, I am helpless,
I need help.
It destroyed who I was, made me despise who I am,
Now.
Therese Bacha
31/5/2013
To create art is to dance with the unseen and the ethereal,
A mystical journey, an enigma even to its creators.
Poets feel this deeply,
A difference they can't yet define, an unspoken aura.
Within them, emotions boil in a vast cauldron,
Every wound they bear, every fleeting joy, becomes magnified,
Everything brings pain. Everything.
They traverse this world as vessels of fragility,
Supersensitive souls drifting in a realm of the mundane.
The mundane dissolves before their enchanted gaze,
They see spectral realities, hear whispers in the celestial silence.
Others move forward, but they linger in the liminal,
Held by the gravity of visions unseen by ordinary eyes.
Their hearts are stormy seas,
Emotional whirlwinds that others cannot understand.
It isolates, ensnares, encasing them in solitary luminescence,
Yet this brilliance often feels too heavy for their delicate forms.
The raw beauty they perceive, untouched by mundanity,
Is both a shining gift and a crushing burden,
This hypersensitivity is the key to the divine,
But it can also be a curse that imprisons the soul.
In their veins flows the luminous river of inspiration,
Yet it cleaves through their existence, a double-edged knife, blessing and peril.
Seeing through this transcendent lens touches the divine essence,
But feeling every nuance can shake the spirit.
They balance on the edge of ethereal creation,
Where the abyss of despair lurks, waiting.
For some, this edge becomes an eternal battlefield,
An uninterrupted struggle to withstand the storm.
And yet, in this hypersensitivity lies the seed of magic,
A spark that can ignite shadows into radiant light,
Illuminating the darkness, bringing forth
Art that speaks to the essence of human existence.
At the heart of the artist, a sacred flame flickers,
With each creation, an echo of their soul is released,
A shard of their infinite light, bestowed upon the world,
Yearning to be felt, to be embraced.
They are both cursed and blessed,
Guardians of a fragile, boundless beauty,
Striving to navigate a world where everything hurts,
And yet, they endure, for in their pain and perception,
Lies the extraordinary magic that makes them sublime.
THIS LAND OF THE FREE
This land of the free, I wouldn’t call her by name
She’s a bully at heart and she carries no shame
This land of the free, where all men should be one
Where excuses are made for one’s use of a gun
This land of the free brings you down to your knees
She releases her evil with poise and such ease
This land of the free harbors malice and hate
For some there is hope and for some it’s too late
This land of the free hides her wrongs in plain sight
With her laws held in hand, she will always be right
This land of the free sends a message to some
That her reach is far wide and there’s nowhere to run
This land of the free where equality roams
In the minds of the men who pay rent for their homes
This land of the free that aspires for gold
To be right for her club, just be men and be old
This land of the free tries to rescue all souls
But her people oppose and it shows in the polls
This land of the free keeps her eyes on that man
She imprisons him daily, giving life when she can
This land of the free has no lid for her mouth
She gave freedom of speech so her children could shout
This land of the free where big eagle wings fly
As high as those dreams sitting way in the sky
This land of the free sets her focus to win
She will punish her child with no proof of a sin
This land of the free where one’s beauty won’t fade
She made friendships with knives and new faces were made
This land of the free with her sun, rain and snow
Has delivered a punch that’s sent many below
This land of the free where the dollar is king
Some say freedom was gained by those necks in a sling
This land of the free is resilient and strong
She had many past leaders yet none wore a crown
This land of the free, will bring riches and fame
She stands tall in the sky holding on to her flame
This land of the free shines a beacon of hope
Come one or come all if you think you can cope
Check out my book entitled, The Untamed Mind" for more great poems. Available at Barnes and Nobles, Amazon and Completelynovel.com
This is what I could not utter—
A rush of light, a whirlwind of strange emotion
A toss, a glimmer, a melodious peak Into the bindings of your soul
I breathed in your pain
And exhaled your smile
You said, “I am with you,
Remember me, and honor my strength
Cross the thresholds into love’s gaping acceptation!” You roared its welcome in my lust for knowledge
And how the world screams against those that love
To those who arise from the waters in flames
Freely and heavily, who wavers but the fear that imprisons us?
I want to unravel the world with you
Finish symphonies of psalms with you
Cross oceans, barriers, trusts and travesties
But I am bound here in this darkness
How then can you see my fire?
Because you are the fire You are with me
You are in me
In your pride, in your integrity,
You have accepted who I must become
These feelings feel alien to me
Like they were lost for so long
And have begged to be found
But once found they wish to crawl back into the night
But it is your light that will reveal its true beauty
This is what I could not utter—
For my throat was constricting reality itself The rest lay dormant in fear and despair
I was unable to comprehend its light
I was unable to apprehend the fright
And it was your fight
That so long ended the night
It was our light
That befitted my delight
You begged, “Please, let me in,
I am cold out here
Open, open open!
Let it all go,
You are one in a million!”
We are the same
In the universe we dwell
Making sense of it all
Yet we are so infinitely different But is there clarity in the shadows?
Is there truth in this fear? Teach me to trust the day Teach me to rise out of love
I rest easy enough in this languishing confession But can I close my eyes again to hear the roars that deafen my threats?
Can I close my eyes to this connection,
Is it hellbent,
Or heaven sent?
Chance is of the essence….
Or is it love?
To that hope,
I open my door to you
April 25, 2018
When I was at my lowest
You returned under the banner of friendship
"Strictly friends" you told me, I agreed
But you and I are both idiots if we believed it
Am I selfish for wanting something?
When the scars are this fresh
When the memories still open the scabs
Am I selfish for wanting relief?
You say you're over everything
The therapy worked, the meds are working
You've built an empire of new promise
A Falconia of purity and hope
As a beacon of light, you've blinded me
As a prophet of hope, you've led me to despair
They say it's insane to remain friends
And I think I've been given lucidity again
Less then two days, and I'll strike the earth
I've given all I am in this month
I've fought so bitterly against despair
And as I gazed at my foe, I became her
Yet I hesitate to raise my blade
Is it selfish to want something?
If there's any possibility
That harm will befall you?
What has June given me the last seven years of my life?
Loneliness, death, separation, fear, despair, hatred
And now an aching longing
That's turned my guts into soup
What the hell has June ever represented to me
Beyond a month of trying to survive?
A grim reminder that my Falconia
Is the amber that traps me and imprisons me
So screw it, right?
Let's pretend June never happened
Let's pretend you stayed away from me like you promised
Let's pretend that I wouldn't be just as miserable
Bedridden again, just like before
You're by my side, yet you've never been so far away
I don't know what I'm wishing for anymore
Wishing and dreaming stopped doing me good a long time ago
My heart beats for you as strongly as it ever did
And I'm prepared to strike the rope and sever us forever
My heartbeat dulled before you ignited it again
And I vastly preferred its slower pace
In an effort to save myself
From the grim despair that's haunted me for years
I'll stake June in a gamble
Offering my memories and the future that never was.
The Chosen One!
(1)“Be grateful dear friend that I don’t marry you!”
(2)For all beauty, man’s weakness, is really an act
Women master (in spades!) Turn it off, turn it on!
Each man born plays a part,
Drones raised crippled in heart!
The ‘fair sex’ is a poem perceived in a glance
And its victims in life rarely get 'second' chance.
It seems few men alive, dare to peer through Love’s veil,
Though they’ve lives of a king,
They don’t know anything!
(3)Most women who dream, dream of not being blue,
Not of love from a man! Where’s your freedom in pact,
That imprisons your soul? Spend your life as the pawn
To a bully’s largess?
You might have to confess
That your love’s not just hiding, you’re empty inside
A ‘full house’ bluff advanced by a girl with no pride!
One who spends life on prose may not get the best mail!
Though the diamonds may shine,
Some men douse her with wine!??
(1)“I know what I want, and I want it today,”?
(4)Was the song of her youth that I still hear her sing.
Now she lives on a budget her husband doles out!
Does he value her soul?
Was just leisure her goal?
While he drives a Ferrari, her mom needs food stamps
To survive on a pittance! New stereo amps
Grace the sparkling home theater kids dare not touch!
Husband kind to a fault -
(Kids want candy or malt!)
(5)As a man, I feel lucky (most days) I can say
And I count her my friend (but did not buy a ring,)
Expectations, not ending things more in a rout!
Both got something desired
When love’s dream was retired!
I do wonder at times, does she feel like she’s won?
I do hope that she does, that her husband’s someone
She’d choose over again,
That all joy’s not just spin!
Brian Johnston
21st of April 2019
Poet’s Notes:
1. Her words:
2. What I feared she was thinking:
3. More of my fears:
4. What I think I know about her life:??
5. Where things are for me today:
One day….soon
I will break free
Free from this body that imprisons me
Free from this mind that torments me
Free from this heart…oh….
This heart
This miserable weak despicable thing
I will break free from this heart
That will not be still
That loves on an on
With every beat
Sending blood coursing through veins
Only to prolong suffering
Free
What is this life?
There is no place
No place for those who love
Unconditionally
Strongly
Who are honest and true
Naïve and unused
To the games people play
To the things people say
That are just words
Just words…..
What else is there but words?
I will break free
And I will smile
And dance in the sun
And make love to the wind
And play with the flowers
Keeping away from the thorns
That pierce my soul
And make me bleed
Free…..
I will not let you bind me
Forever…
Oh what a pity
For you will never see
The beauty that was at your fingertips
The love that would carry you
To your old age
When all your hair is gray
And your body is feeble
The love that is constant
That would follow you
Even to the foot of the grave
And make your passage smooth
That would plant little kisses on your face
Gentle as a fairy
The love that would sing to you
A little lullaby
That would quiet your fears
And the chest that would
be your pillow
As you close your eyes
A smile tugging at your lips
as you hear the whispered promises
Of a rendez vous
On the other side
In the land of light
Pity…..
It is always hindsight
That is the clearest
When it is too late to make amends
When it too late to revel in
The purity of a soul
That was your very own
Yes, I will break free
Don’t look for me
You will go high and low
I know
I know it will be so
You will hear my sighs in the wind
You will feel my kisses in the rain
You will feel my body in the sea
When you dip yourself in me
You will try....
But you won't be able
To hold on to me
For finally
Finally
I will be free.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Inverse Goddess of life,
You destroy what you refuse to love,
Love not, what your loins thirst for,
The smallest act of pleasure for you,
When you pee, when you poo,
Drives another nail into the weathered,
Worn planks of my life's final platform,
Imprisons my prayer for all that's merciful.
Oh where are you now Love?
I fear my tears fuel your smile,
A new kind of excrement, tears turned to blood,
My saliva is red with remorse,
I bite my own cheeks to mask
The pain of your absence,
My pores sweating blood too,
I contemplate eminent death on the cross.
For you live not for life itself
But in fear of life exceeding your imagination,
Poor pleasure indeed that cannot see
Beyond the Rift Valley that is your conscience,
Spirit cast out, no longer indwelling mortal flesh
Your finger still smoldering from the devil's ring
His gift to all the human race (you are not alone)….
Separation from all that's Holy.
But there is a power in renunciation,
Even if it is not yours, but your masters.
Through fear, through cowardice,
Stripped nude by his hand, modesty in tatters,
You snuggle into His arms, that cold embrace,
And smile, still parted by His quill, and whisper,
'Was it good for you sweetie?'
You settle at last for nothing.
Brian Johnston
April 11, 2015
Poet's Notes:
Originally I started this as a poem in which I intended to make fun of a suffering boyfriend who was using his pain to beat up his girlfriend. It still can be read that way. But it turned dark somewhere along the way and not funny, as in get a life guy! Too often we let strong feelings convince us that they must be true because we are feeling them. But really fellow, your girlfriend leaves you and that means she not only wishes to hurt you but is now having sex with the devil? Me thinks you protest to much and that I would probably like her more than you.
Am I man or ghost?
Am I mortal or apparition?
Questions or choices
or entwined reality?
For a state of confusion
sleeps within my fiber, and
slowly rips asunder, the final
sliver of my contemporary humanity,
Sunrises and sunsets go unseen,
as I fully embrace my departure
from time, human contact, and connection,
with a creative conviction and devotion
to my only passion as an excuse, a deceitful
reason to shelter myself from the tender
moments that keep emotions empowered
and empathy evolved,
Yet truth is untied by introspection,
and as I analyze, I accept reality,
Seclusion has become to me, the
fruit that protects the emotional
body but imprisons the loving mind,
and by this bittersweet conundrum,
I am bound and devoted to this ambivalence,
by the mere comfort and promise of
being content,
And by such a promise, I have
personified my fear of emotional
agony, yet tamed its risk with the
fierce whip of isolation, thus the shame
and allure become as one, And as I
lose who I was, and tolerate who I am,
my disconnection from humanity
hurts those who care, yet keeps me
safe, with ink as my final outlet,
Still, as I sacrifice need for need,
I am not the one who still suffers,
Those with hearts that beat for me,
have become victims of my seclusion,
and I ache for them, but less and less
with each breath, For my isolation
continues to force its fee, and I notice
only after it is taken, and as I see their pain,
Only my thoughts are heard, my wishes
important, and my contentment decreed,
And despite visions of tears and sorrow
that were once my salvation, Now, I
only look away, and remain a willing
prisoner in the sweet self shelter, of
the nothingness I show, and will one day
feel, without rue...
As I sit here,
Wondering about myself,
Contemplating my shadow on the wall,
The shadow that draws Me,
In this dark shadow I see,
Webs of emotions swimming in “ME,”
The person in my shadow,
Someone other than Me,
The person that smiled,
That drew smiles on faces
Has disappeared,
And ended up being…Me,
I stared with confusion drawn on my face,
I didn’t understand myself,
But the vision I was seeing
Reflected a person that no one ever saw,
Nor did Me,
“ME,”
Reflects a Mysterious Eternity,
A person that emerges for a reason
A person that tells Me things that
Never were heard,
I inhaled deeply,
For I was moved by my feelings,
“ME,” pressured Me to shed a tear,
That burned its way down my cheek,
My incomprehensible thoughts,
Flowed in Me
Like a salty river,
Triggering nothing but confusion
And irony,
I felt a shiver in my spine,
The effect of thinking,
And the weakness of Me in front of “ME,”
Increased my mystification,
I wondered if this puzzle
Would come to an end,
And if I would ever comprehend,
Or if the confusion would befriend,
I realized that Me,
Lives in fear,
Petrifying life,
And is surrounded by pessimism,
“ME,”
Refreshed my mind,
Making Me realize the grief,
That imprisons it…
Guilt swam in Me,
I revived myself,
And rubbed my glaring eyes,
I couldn’t stop thinking
About all these thoughts,
In a few minutes,
“ME” has shown Me
The weakness I hold
And the misery that lives within,
I glanced at my shadow again,
Seeing Me,
The person I am
And the person that I’ll always be,
I closed my tearful eyes,
Knowing I’ll cry,
But my eyes wouldn’t shed a tear,
Instead, I felt a drawn smile…
Surrounding “ME,”
The person I am,
The person always with Me…