Long Infusions Poems

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


Premium Member Heartisan

‘ex post facto’ it is facile to see the human reality of  matter

one does not need artificial intelligence to feel sorrow and joy

	a life not bravely examined is not worth living

	and therefore she dissected her innermost self

	took scalpel and reason but failed to exhume

	what matters most when cut through the chase

	inspected valves chambers and flow of emotion

‘be kind to yourself’ but at first the knife was rather too blunt

double edged as well and she needed tweezers and forceps

	‘where is the handle because I must get a firm grip

	wrap a bandage around my soul and tear into pain’

	a psychiatry bible rested uncomfortably aside an atlas

	four chambers no doubt be it water fire air and earth

	compassion kindness love and no doubt depression

formalin tested her nostrils with the corpse unsurprisingly dead

broken arrows at the core and faded names inscribed in dry blood

	the life support machine had groaned under pressure

	injection and years on the couch but nothing but stasis

	hemolytic infusions adrenaline cardio version exhaustion

	until she decided to explore what mattered the most

	breathing barely more than sufficient she nearly arrested

a heart transplant was not for faint hearted patient’s emotions

but when she got going there was no going back in her theatre

	mental surgery required passion courage and centre

	the eye of an eagle and the skill to let go and recover

	‘pioneering is quite fun’ she had to admit and proceeded

	discovered that she was more than a cultural artefact

	but living proof of suppression and uneasy surrender

what she learnt to love best in the end was her dark depression

because this nasty compassion opened her eyes and her heart


5th August 2020


Dear Guest

At the sound of the gong you appear
to seek some welcome refreshment,
dear guests to be greeted right here 
with a cuppa is our sincere intent.

There's a flask of filter coffee 
and a pot of tea, a fresh brew,
there are also other infusions.
Now what shall I pour out for you?

You may choose decaf coffee or tea,
perhaps camomile or peppermint, 
maybe some barley cup – gluten free, 	
green tea with lemon, mango or mint,

or green tea with jasmine accents,
'revitalising lemon with ginger',
'pure fennel – all natural ingredients',
or 'wild apple cinnamon with ginger'.

Earl Grey comes in various styles,
vanilla chai or rose lemonade
and assorted red bush bags in piles.
It depends on how you'd like it made.

Then I should mention liquorice too.
You could sample 'blackberry and nettle',
or into the garden just for you
I could fetch lemon balm plus the kettle.

We've 'red berries infusion caffeine free',
hot chocolate, horlicks or ovaltine –
but these need more preparation than tea.
Oh, there's a lonesome bag lost in this tin.

To whatever I've brewed for you
I could add sugar or saccharin,
maybe milk (or soya in lieu),
then lift out the bag or leave it in.

Next time you come over to stay 
your preference I'll try to remember 
but I suspect there'll be some dismay 
with yet more choice than November.

Now I have come to the washing up, 
that Yorkshire tea is still in the pot; 
filter coffee I've poured not a cup, 
so into the sink I'll empty the lot.
Form: Quatrain

Metallo and Mister Mxyzptik

Reflecting the ray's in all directions
the rough surface
with it's intent to reflect ray's
intentilly and uniformly
Corumdum A1203
Alumina is a drying compund
Fused white aluminum oxide
with diverse ranges of
applications
Pink or Brown infusments
such as acid and alkiai
dielectric properties
resisting strong chemical attacks
it prepares it's self for acidicty infusions
used in dentistry and hip surgery
Caterham sea van tarot on auto pilot
an intellegent auto pilot
allard motor works!

Kitpzyxmium or kitpzyzm.....

We gone have
Lionfish, Catfish Red Snapper
pork ribs beef brisket and roasted goat
ya'll gonna eat
ya'll gone dance
ya'll gonna sip wine
and enjoy!

Zucchinni sausage and chese some braod noodles
Form: Bio

Hand Me My Leather

Twisting and writhing
Ruffling leaves as she passed
S-curves and U-shapes
Propelled her 
Past the crumbling daylight
Into the absence of sun
Tar and pitch
Where nothing was to be seen

She sank down on her belly, 
Licked the air, thought about 
Her life as she gulped a rat 
Wondered at beasts and bugs
Their feet, hooves, legs 
Ponderous about her own 
Lack there of 

Her belly had grown crispy
Her eyeballs dry and flaky 
As she continued to wonder
In her state of change 
Belly down, itchy, itchy! 
How easy it must be
For the horse to gallop away 
For the cat to preen with paws
The cow to kick unwanted infusions
But she! SHE had to grind and rub
Against rock, bush and dirt 
Was she powerless? 

The moon 

The cold blue white glow of the moon 
provided just enough sparkle for her to glisten, 
in her shiny black bodysuit 
And she began to think doubly
About her situation, as she undulated and bucked and listed, to free herself of her skin

Black bead eyes observed the crunchy strips of paper flaking off, revealing the supple oily wet curves below, new and smoother than fresh patent leather

Was she ingratiated by her lack
of paws? 
By her absence of cow tail or even fingers and toes? No. 
She thought on, 
and considered her second skin, worn out and yellowed, as an old worn out slipper to be discarded, and she- she with her powerful belly like a smooth sole, gliding on the most agile, powerful foot, moved on 
With a sensual ferocity
Across the night’s stage
art

Doctor White

(A lone voice whispers)

Are there many quiet times
When you look above

And are there are many crazy raucous times

When you’re also forced to
Look below

Can you still feel tendrils of
Old memories from your
Hidden archives

That cathedral you may now
Call the Ghetto Château

Where lost love or heartbreaks
Resonate

Vibrating in those very rooms
You try to outgrow

 

Are there still small moments and

Infusions of tranquil bouts of welcomed insurrection

Silent revolutions or tired times of forced rebellions

On the surface

Above

Are you so seemingly filled with Love

And sweet smiles and compassion

A face you parade to the world watching

 But below

Where the husky darkness
Multiplies and you breathe it
Deeply in

As it flourishes and grows

Do
Invisible feelings of self-doubts

Deep inner fears and invisible tears

Call when you visit to endlessly fall

Do you wonder

Will they stay
Will they go away

All questions heralding from the smiling

Mister Who Knows
Who lives inside me

Just having a silent conversation
With you

My secret hidden alter

I call him
Doctor White

Dressed in his white coat
And with his foolish stares

I can still see him smiling everywhere.

Especially when I drink
Some wet kelter

Like my soul's satisfying
Mescaline

I may seem calm and collected

Above too
But beneath that very shimmering

Surface

I fear being totally rejected
But for now, I’ll still smile and play

Empowered with the hope
That the good memories

 Will stay this time
I will no longer need

To revisit my deep depths and
Those old rooms

I always seem to trespass through

A place my soul
Sometimes visits and all light

Is bereft

As Doctor White
Visits

Walking casually and smiling through

All my precious light and dark

Memories rivers

 

Maybe tonight I’ll but stay firmly standing in those

Filled with love and lights

 
Standing steadfastly in the hope

They will stay the night

 

 (C)
Copyright John Duffy
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Hope For Spring

He thought on all the attributes of Spring

          The landscapes deliquescing, day-by-day

On white and gray and drab, so giving way

          To all the hue-infusions life could bring

New creatures of all size, some on-the-wing

          A bud and blossom dance of shadow-play

The grand and graceful grass and leaf ballet

          A breath, alive with things that buzz and sing.


Yet now those wondrous joys of life's debut

          Were things that only photos would recall

For Man had turned the living earth into

          A dead and frozen planet, thru-and-thru.

Yet there above, the Sea of Suns did call -

          A hope for Man's next Spring was there ... he knew.





~ 2nd Place ~  in the "March Poems Old or New for Prizes Part 3 Easter Series" Poetry Contest, Carolyn Devonshire, Judge & Sponsor.

Conflagrations of Contemplation

Conflagrations of Contemplation

Elemental exaltations for refined explanations 
Permeatations of conflagrations that seek to define progressive nations 
Illuminations of consecrations that have me seeking contemplation
Acclimatisation toward configurations that have been building a new space station 

Fusions of finite resources to be plundering 
Contusions of insight and sources to be pondering 
Infusions of delight without remorse to be wondering 
Confusions of contrite concourse to be sundering 

I can see the echoes of loss and grief inside your eyes 
I’d set you free if it weren’t so painful to watch you cry
But then who would relieve me from the tears accumulating in my eyes 
As I watch you smile above it all and attune in your disguise

Postulations on productive thought and ethical considerations 
Aberrations of reductive sport that leaves you in commiserations 
Attestations that they can be bought in these times of sellout consternations
Distillations that leave me over wrought with latent contemplations

Fundamental Answers cannot be found through statements designed to obfuscate 
Experimental philosophical dancers design the concepts to debate 
Compartmental insinuations that are defined to constantly conflate 
Transcendental notions that are refined to expansively illuminate 

The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme

Convoluted Possibilities

Convoluted Possibilities

Constellations of configurations that capture my fading breathe 
Elevations of consummations that reflect on all that’s left 
Inclinations towards imitations that leave me feeling bereft 
Commiserations for the consternations as a life lingers upon death 

Collusions of covert planning that draw nefarious conclusions 
Intrusions of introverted inclinations that produce clarity of thought amidst the confusion 
Infusions of concert performances that are based on artistic delusions
The fusion of science and geometry that defy mathematical protrusions 

Designations of grace and contemplation amidst a crystal stream 
Resignations of place and contestations that induce the quiet man to scream 
Conflagrations of misplaced elevations that produce a lucid dream 
Amalgamations of disgraced technocratic awe captured in a meme

Beautification in the aftermath of philosophical inquiry and inquisition
Stupefaction at the polymath contriving his expertise without contrition 
Communication flowing toward the empath as she absorbed the emotional vision 
Calcification of the psychopath devoid of feeling amidst their precision

Morality and consequence above constellations of burning stars 
Tonality and influence that drive around in expensive cars
The fallacy of innocence exposed to malevolence from afar
Polarity that is the inference of the political players counting cards

An essence of retrospect that stirs true emotion to begin to rise 
Convalescence of intellect that brings a tear upon my eyes 
Incandescence of a dialect burning like a candle in demise 
Reminiscence of a moment in time that memory causes her to cry

Affluence and greed among the overpriviledged few
Common sense and need preside over the ageing and the new 
Malcontents that feed on the morsels of the gossip in the stew 
A mind that’s dense but beautiful leads the crowd and that is you!

The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Tooth Slayer

Grinding to a halt his jaws clenching and crunching

Tim had tried all treatments under the sun like 

pills and the couch hypnosis even osteo-cranial touches

But his resentments would not abate his vision collapsed

‘an eye for an eye a tooth for a tooth’ he held firm in decay


Raging with no temerity anywhere near he nevertheless

felt barren arid infertile unable to grow away from his pain

Maybe a soothsayer would attest reason from potions

and magic so that the saga of misery would be killed by the sage

yet Tim’s obsessive proclivity surrendered all change for the better


When incense and herbal infusions only incensed him even further

he sought wisdom from a witch in the forest a bone monger of sorts

the nuance between nonsense and insight mattered no longer

some old woman with a wart on her nose would make him walk again


She spelt out her price and demanded a token of appreciation

only one rib of them all so she could suck out malicious poison

and get clear sight of the aperture so far occluded by marrow


A story as old as Methuselah or Methuse-Laara to be true in this case

and a wonderful renaissance of stem cell therapy for recovery


28th October 2018


The meaning of the name Laara is said to be famous woman

‘Eight word challenge’ contest sponsored by John Hamilton

Aperture Attest Barren Temerity Saga Proclivity Nuance Marrow

CIVILIAN AVIATION, MILITARY AVIATION

Chemistry, Physics, Logic and Math
These are the factors, Computable path
These are the functions to take, these exclusions
Tea is the Chai , these are herbal infusions 

Chemistry, Physics, Logic and Math
Hardware, software, as service is SAAS
These are the functions to take, these exclusions
This is my goal, I pursue the intrusion

Gnomics, the calculus, logic and sense 
Poem is written with state of Defense 
Strategy, Tactics and the Workarounds
Review at this stage automatically rounds 

Goals and tasks, the intentions, warfare
What would be way to be reasonably clever
Functions, the logic, historical concrete
Cognitive science of humans is on it 

Cognitive science of humans is on it
Where cognition of humans are moron
Still we opinions value
They bore us

Stale and unsolvable, product of firms
Solutions in stall, in the air these soares
Starting conditions, weather, magnetic
Ethics is difficult, complex is ethics

Broken, dissolved, are the points and aspects
We do crave the power
We want many assets 

In cases of what 
The presumption of innocence
Facts contradict 
What's its luminescence 

Glow in the dark 
Little beacon for radar
Visible spectrum
TATATA TATATA

Rhymes and melodies, noise and annoying 
You are the foe, I am the foeing
© Kate Kelly  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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