Long Inhalations Poems

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


The Metaphor I Dream

This metaphor breathes
                    when I awaken
                    to a dull, gray morning
                    and the chill of a draft.
                    The colors of my dreams stir
                    behind the visions I see
                    while I shower and dress
                    to face duties of the day.
                    My meditation is of breath,
                    inhalations and exhalations of life
                    from all parts of me
                    and all who I am.
                    I stir to past love
                    but still a part of me,
                    the gentle, soulful whispers
                    of memory.
                    I am all who I am,
                    timeless incarnations
                    given another day.
Form: Verse


Premium Member How Frank Sinatra Saved My Life - Or At Least Got Me Kicked Out Of The Hospital

Up and down, up and down, up and down
I don’t know if I have any more energy for
Up and down
If the line would flatten 
I could finally rest

A masked woman wearing scrubs
Fights my inclination for slumber
But, sleep equals peace
My lungs and head droop
Alarms blare
I hear mumbled words 
Something about rousing my oxygen levels

I breathe the shape of a box
A trick learned from a Seal
It works as prescribed 
Briefly
But, also adds weights to my eyes
The black beckons
More voices 
Persuading
For a return to deep inhalations

Inspiration illuminates and 
Instead
I sing

Laughter and confusion 
They believe they are witnessing another
Drug induced performance 
However,

I
Am
Lucid

They don’t understand 
I’ve dwelt in darkness 
Many times before 
I’ve tried to disappear 
Into its obscurity but,
For reasons yet revealed 
Someone
Keeps shining a spotlight 
On me
On everybody 

So, I croon
Only a few notes initially 
My oxygen spikes
Astonishment 
Giggling turns into song requests 
A Frank Sinatra classic was my first 

Fully awake 
Stability 
With challenges
Ups and downs, ups and downs, ups and downs

I’m so tired 
Nevertheless,
I’m on stage
The spotlight shines and
The traditional theatrical battle cry insists 
The show must go on

The Ugliest

You are a fantastic sufferer, 
A passionate star striker-heightening my tears to happiness
How I wish for merely a moment, that I could forget all my fears
And allow myself to imagine your warm arms around me 
Telling me "Alone you never be in this fight against the maggots"

And I would lay my head against you in peace,
Calmed by your heavenly inhalations
For once knowing, I never fight in the solitary despair of Alone
Reaching peaks of patience, I long to remove memories of the unattainable
Had his green eyes only met my own again...
Yet well I know, the dark intense eyes that see me,
Would admonish and feed me 
With wisdom and excitement far superior than the offerings of kings
That claw my back in lust, and promise impossible things
An obsession far more potent than the wines I never drink

Do not make me cling into the furies of obsession again
Let me know you feel the same
Or else I will lay my head against the rocks,
Cradled by unpredictable seas
Laboring in merciful grief,
I seek the truth
Because whatever the answer, I will always admire you

Leave me alone....
Or Forever be my own

"Demons cry because they know your beauty surpasses the ugliest-- the most glorious."

Premium Member Introducing the Splitzmodic Vibratones

Emaciated test-tube mutations 
Raised apart in pristine distillations 
Conceived in dexedrine celebrations 
and the crazed, ecstatic inhalations 
of the professor’s choicest pheromones 

Right-angled, inverted, and star-spangled
Drained and dangled till their nerves were jangled
Nearly psychedelically strangled  
Quantumly, at a distance, entangled 
On celestially balanced microphones

Their unproven kaleidoscope harmonics
Haywire mk-ultra histrionics
Phosphoric rhapsodical symphonics
And their backward time-lapse polyphonics
Transcribed on interstellar xylophones

For homunculus scintillations 
Splintered, syncopated oscillations
And desperate mute gesticulations
No one beats those galactic sensations
Our own mad-twin Splitzmodic Vibratones
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member City of Lakes

...early Spring walk around 3.2mi. Lake Calhoun...so named after controversial industrialist sotten with checkered past...movement underway to return name to Native American Dakota "Bde Maka Ska" White Earth Lake.


 Purple Finches trill their soothing song
to people walking around Lake Bde Maka Ska,
a deep glacial lake in the heart of Minneapolis.

 A lone Eagle cruises above, easily snatching
spawning Carp from the shallows, gracefully
cruising away, talons firmly clutching the
writhing Carp.

 I enjoy watching families enjoying their first
walk around the lake, infants in strollers taking in their first inhalations of sights, sounds and
smells after winter isolation.

 Young people wander wide-eyed, wondering
how the world sees them, as they establish
identity through dress, movement & interaction
with others...subtle changes will occur as the
summer evolves...reacting or not, to perceived
reflection.

 Most of all, I enjoy my own movement, 
evaluating subtle changes I notice in myself,
returning to the park bench by the path where
I comfortably situated my 87yr. old Mom,
grateful to have the opportunity to once more
enjoy our city of lakes, wondering how many
more such gifts she will enjoy,

Grateful
for
the
moment


5/7/17
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Conflicting Commitments

Where and when I find a commitment
to capitalism
to buying and selling Earth
to patriarchalism
to racism
to Western SWM LeftHemisphere cultural dominance
to win/lose global economic politics,

I do NOT find
a commitment to compassion,
to love,
to non-violence,
to cooperative ownership and management,
to a healthy democratic win/win economic empowerment system,
to left with right hemisphere neuro-psychological resonance,
to secular/sacred EarthTribe resilience.

When and where I embody our healthy commitment
to lavish
boundless
radical compassion,
to nonviolent communication experience
to nonviolent philosophical
ecological
theological theory,
however hypothetically
and cooperatively held, owned, managed,

I can no longer passively tolerate
monopolitistic win/lose capitalism,
buying and selling of Earth
and sacred EarthTribe residents,
monotheistic patriarchalism,
monoculturing colonization,
systemic and left-brain rationalized racism,
monocratic left-hemisphere overwhelming aggression
against win/win dipolarity
co-arising emergent multi-contextual intelligence,

Polyphonic right-brained,
polycultural left-brained,
polynomial geo-metrics = not(not) bilaterally polypathic ego/eco-logic

Sacred reasons
stimuli
causes
inductions
inhalations
impressions
invitations,
predicting healthy 
nutritional seasons

And less
bicameral debate,
unitarian v universalism,
7th principle v 1st principle,
yin-terdependent eco-flow v yang ego-strength,
about conflicting commitments.

Premium Member There Is Nothing To Say About It

There is Nothing to Say About It


There is nothing to say about it
No words to describe it at all  
There are no words at all to describe 
the mass slaughter of innocents,
the relentless malignant progressions of
the evil black-moving cloud of terminations,
the toxic metastasizing ooze of outright annihilations,
the blood-gurgling regurgitations, and
the blood-spurting decapitations.
There is nothing to say about it.
Nothing to say at all.
No words to describe 
the hopeless piercing cries of the infidels 
the whimpering terrified pleadings of the condemned
the silent gasping inhalations of the dying
There is nothing to say about it.
No words to describe it at all!
My heart at 62 years has not seen anything like this at all!
Never anything like this at all!
I have not seen this outrageous slaughter before at all!
There is nothing to say, except…
These are the days!
The days of this unkind hour; 
the days before the great onslaught!
Before this massive earthly descent to the lowest places,
the smelly dank places, 
the rotting miasma of the dead places.
There are no words to describe it!
There is nothing to say at all!
war

Oblivious Transit To Astral Sphere

Transcendent meditative
ascendance assuaged
deep sleep grogginess resultant
resounding residual REM cycles
profound dreams decreasingly faint grip
fading fast, yet...

after effects heavily linger
courtesy toehold subconscious sojourn
oft times mentally exhausting,
nonetheless requisite sleep
house strikingly  vivid dreams
salutary, revelatory truthfully...

unconscious voyage analogous
20,000 leagues under the sea
beheld wide webbed world
only privy to yours truly,
albeit x number
unconscious blinks of shuteye

upon uninterruptedly awakening
post immersion into pseudo
submarine (private Nautilus)
isolation chamber
immediately submerged
foreign territory,
(no matter linkedin

with cerebral minescape - mine)
good n plenti evocations
timed to vanish without a trace
akin to radioactive isotope
with very fleeting half life
fantastic, emphatic, dramatic...

dreams immediately dissipated
anointing emerging wakefulness
unshakable drunken like stupor
meditation coaxed away
comatose zombie state
transitioning me to manageable

lightness of being
allowing, enabling, providing
lucid adjustment beneficial
to handle quotidian
dose of unexpected challenges
honing coping skills

courtesy holistic morning routine,
NOT sitting lotus pose
(this body would vehemently protest,
nor could this fella ever walk again),
thus I become
comfortably numb

merely resting seated,
head propped against pillow
subtly easing into trance
approximately forty five minutes
consciously aware breathing
lightly focusing attention

upon inhalations, and exhalations
effortlessly, fittingly, gently...
shuttering out external noises
ideally experiencing internal
calmness, electrified, fortified, galvanized
heightened mindfulness.
Form: Elegy

Premium Member Grasping Exhaustion

Maybe it's just ageing me.
So, I'm asking,
as focused yet open
as I could ever hope to encompass,
transparently vulnerable

Do negative correlations
distancing inhaling
from exhaling
EarthMother's sentient WorldView
resemble, for you,
too,
a reverse correlation,
dipolar co-arising
appositional contrast,
in-between organically grasping on
and sacredly letting off?

I am not sure why
this question could be economically
or politically
or psychologically
or neurologically significant

In this time of great polarized
climate EarthHealth v EconomicWealth cultural crisis,
and yet,
it persistently seems so
as I attempt,
in my Earth-bound solitude,
to exhale and dissociate from
left hemisphere verbal
monopolizing
monotheistic
demanding anthropocentric dominance

To inhale and grasp toward
more right hemisphere nonverbal
co-passion communing physical therapy
re-associating
re-syncing metaphysical thought 
and physical feeling
re-communing organic and sacred
re-ligioning

Green
and blue
and red
ultra-violet transforming
Earth's climate health
grasping fresh inhalations
while exhausting stale patriarchal capitalism's
straight white male preserving
reiterative hortatory,
Might Makes God Right

Grasping and exhausting reactionary nonresponsiveness
to our organic belongings
and sacred longings
for EarthHealth
and DemocraticWealth,
co-passionate points of WorldView.

Premium Member Soul-Embrace Whispers

 Written: October 15, 2023

             _______________________________________________

Shadows dwell in the confines of dreams.
I delve into an abyss of enigmas streams.
The soul is a marvel waiting to be unfolded.
To be felt, embraced, and aired to the world.
 
I slowly peel up my mask for each wary tug.
Disclosing the truth lies beneath the shrug.
Finishing yet another conundrum or quest.
locating the vitality trapped inside the chest.

Inhalations of holy trees yearn to be heard.
A tune rich with wisdom, haphazardly blurred
It falls down in pools of various hues of gray.
Time hurdles have been destroyed in clay.
 
Lyrics fall akin to twigs in an autumnal breeze.
Build vivid notions in the mind with salient ease.
Imaginary oxblood leaks from your lover's lips.
Whispering whispers as the full moon dimly dips
 
These archaic cursive instances appear in wait.
I wish tears to dry before my memories slate.
They linger on a blank page since it is too late.
Or, mingle on a shared stage as poets relate.
 
Before such radiance fades in the night.
To waltz and wanton, yarns of moonlight
Stars strike notes, nurturing a symphony.
A tune that vibrates in the soul is harmony.
 
Thus, I disclose the core of my being.
As a star sways, watch its hint of foreseeing.
The soft rumblings of the heart's embrace
A romantic choreography, a cosmic chase
 
But we can bear power at any given time.
To fit inside and enable our souls to sublime. 
Whispers of soul embrace a cosmic love chase.
I glance inwardly for calmness and grace.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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