Long Intrusive Poems
Long Intrusive Poems. Below are the most popular long Intrusive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intrusive poems by poem length and keyword.
"It is so, so it is
I know way before
Deeper, deepest inside from above through and below
It is so, so it is
It is real, more than a feel
Is is so, so it is
Express agreement
Emphasized that so it’ true
Cause truth rest in truth
Stands above not beneath
All awe, intrusive agreement affirmation
"That’s the way it is,"
Or "that's what I heard too."
It is a way of acknowledging the statement
And indicating agreement with it
It is so, so it is
"It is so" is a phrase used to expressed agreement
And so to emphasize some things are true or certain.
"That’s the way it is,"
Or "that's what I heard too."
It is a way
of acknowledging the statement
Halleluiah,---
It is so, so it is
Halleluiah,---
It is so, so it is
It is so, so it is"
1/25/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
I could go on and on aborting the rough indulgence of the brain, body, mind, soul, sanity and the art of the heart
Nothing zips in how my mental state can have its way around each and every day. What we call “High and lows” I can experience them or expect them to take its theme in any moment now in which ever manner.
Living with Mental disorder is exhausting. By the end of the day I'm ridiculously tired From overthinking in fighting anxieties, intrusive thoughts and suicide ideations. When the sun finally sets, I'm hanging by a thread.
Hoping and wishing that tommorow will be less atrocious than this...only to wake up to the same inch every single day
I can’t even imagine how calm could a brain be
The pledge of chaos to be altered before night time it’s already being procrastinated by my being
The content of the urge to die constantly
The rawness essence how my mental state doesn’t wait for a start or an end but the fact that the rest of my life this weight that it has over me takes its inherent mark it’s like a white sheet marked with a dark dot in the middle no matter how you cut the paper in order to remove the dark dot it only carries a final fate to shred it instead
Being alive is like being asked to give up your house that you built and lived in it for years and asked to live in it for the sake of safe keepings
The humane and sorrowful need to be heard and understood (inevitable vulnerability)
Harvesting to cope and actually have a defence mechanisms just to make my breathing bearable
Although we all going to die one day a daily dose of allurement of death is needed
Torn in between dark and grey it all looks the same
The battered hope that someday…eventually…maybe things might get better?
It doesn’t get better than this
Ashleigh Ngoqo
Who Tell lies?
“Hey, this is the internet everybody lies.”
this was a throwaway sentence in a TV program
forgotten by the one who spoke the line or when
it sounded right.
It made me think is the world less honest now we have internet?
If this is so is it because we don´t see the people we lie to.
What about me do I tell lies?
Yes, at times when intrusive people ask questions
I find no ground to answer. I´m also a writer and use things I have
heard or read what happened in my and others live to tell a story.
but in my private life, I`m scrupulously honest and take a dim
view of lies told to make the teller bigger
to borrow money because they have fallen on a temporary
a hard time when in fact they try to use people.
A squirrel and I faced off eye to EYE.
We stared each other down as he passed BY.
I caught him taking food for which he had no RIGHT.
I was in the right, but he challenged me for a FIGHT.
He could clearly see that I was very angry with HIM.
I felt like throwing him back upon the mulberry tree LIMB,
Where he could SEE plenty enough of nuts and SEEDS to EAT.
They were my personal nuts, and I had every right to DEFEND.
Moreover, my patience with that intrusive squirrel was wearing THIN.
I had left my not-so-ripened pecans in the bright open SUN; and without
asking me, he had the audacity to openly steal my PECANS. The squirrel
boldly decided to make my pecans, a favored treat, his TREAT. And when
I caught him redhandedly, he did not RETREAT, but ignored my PROTESTING; no APOLIGIZING.
At the end of the stare, I guess that he expected that I would feel sorry for him when he SAID, "Would you please leave me alone, my family needs to be FED". As he moved on across the top of my FENCE, eating the EVIDENCE and taking the rest to his little FAMILY, I stood aghast. Imagine a fearless squirrel parading on my PROPERTY, trying to put me in my PLACE, face to FACE.
0910221PSCtest, Nonsense Rhyme, Charles Messina. 5P
Making and doing (poetry) pursuing, with the re-membering of feel
and shape concerned, yet not by all..! all are not intaking of
the coming awareness, with life in rude health and how it forms!
a quest of proportion & perception now unnoticed and unsung
and LOVE..? is it LOVE.? with the (unlovley) or the plain function
or..? even the unfunctioning of humanity not to sing or portray
its truth where..? is there not beauty? if not in all.! all of life as it is
manifest, & with no malady to intrusive! for the negating of mankinds
intrinsic judgmental leaning, both inner and outer to an eventuall despair,
(is ever the better love of all & in all affairs.)
So many possibilities parade up and down the perimeter of the page.
Some wiggle their petootsies at me; one sticks out her tongue.
Being super confident, adorable, and quietly intrusive is the rage.
The word LUCKY gives me an Eskimo kiss, making me feel young.
Lucky what? My muse asks, as she lies on the edge polishing a nail.
She does not care if this poem works or flatly bombs, a total fail.
I pretend we are friends and suggest a few things to go with lucky.
She laughs her head off with a donkey kick, making me feel suckly.
I start making a list of what we could do with this pristine page.
The elves, gnomes, faeries, and brownies take over, they are all sage.
I write lucky penguin, sweet crocodile, happy peacock and tiny giraffe.
I know I am still being made fun of when I hear Trixie’s evil laugh.
So, what is your idea? I ask her, and she grabs the pen from me.
She makes whirls and twirls, dots, slashes, dashes, D’s, F’s and a B.
I study what she has done, and I have to be sort of kind.
Because after I read it I see that Trixie has a super brilliant mind.
In the days of milk and honey
Milk was cheap and fresh
Honey costed little money
And I paid in cash
In the dream one winter night
I was flying low
In the blur of lamppost light
I was flapping slow
Over houses and then
Swooping down I flew
Over pavements and again
Up towards the blue
In the days of wine and music
Days of happy sadness
Nothing seemed too much intrusive
In my eyes of gladness
Troubles, hardships and decay
Left their mark on me
But I threw them all away
Just to let me be
In the days of love and painting
Days of paper cup champagne
I was frequently escaping
From each place I stayed
I was making lots of friends
And I was beknown
But all friendships had to end
In the days bygone
Days dissolve into thin air
Still I fly in dreams
Over houses, over square
In the dimmed light beams.
Like unwelcome intruders,
it is in the stillness of the night,
intrusive thoughts come to plague us.
Like thieves sneaking in the dark,
they come without prior information
and without waiting to earn permission.
They often come as unexpected visitors.
giving a sudden jolt, leaving us appalled.
At times, they withdraw, before the wake of dawn.
but sometimes they settle in the heart,
dispersing a volley of dark and nagging thoughts,
all at once or flinging them one after another.
Like
little
flecks,
leaving burns in our hearts,
they consume us in flames.
With scalding heat, they make our hearts melt,
like the molten lava after a volcanic eruption.
They feed on us until all that’s left
is a handful of ashes or sedimentary rocks.
These thoughts eat away our vitality,
sup on our vulnerability
suck our life sap
and fatten on our gloom.
Like tenants, these intruders who haven’t paid
a single dime as rent invite our wrath!
Even under threat, they would never vacate.
Sometimes, they are so aggressive
making us go insane.
telling us to kill ourselves
or dash into the speeding traffic
or jump off a steep cliff,
bang the head on the wall
or with a sharp knife stab into the chest
Weaving sticky gossamer threads,
to ensnare all happy thoughts,
which come our way,
like ugly arachnids,
they arrogantly dwell in our hearts!
Suicide Prevention
From a loving parent, to his/her teenage son/daughter
Honey, I promise that I will
always be involved—to some degree-- in your life,
while trying not to be an intrusive pest
STOP what I’m doing and listen when you need to talk
(Exception: if I’m in the middle of a true emergency
and absolutely can’t stop)
support you in every reasonable way I can think of
be your parent first, then your friend
pray for you daily
I Promise I will NOT
ignore subtle or obvious changes in your general demeanor
(I WILL ask questions because I care.)
say something really stupid like, “Oh, just ignore them. Show
them how mature you are!” if you tell me you’re being bullied
tell you you’re right when I KNOW you’re not—just to avoid
a debate—because I love you too much to be a coward
September 5, 2015
entered in Laura Loo's Suicide Prevention Week Contest
Foul tempest wind dost beset thy slumber,
its rain doth drain and dampen to stupor.
I rithe at thy great agony's bequest,
haunted by frightening reminiscence.
'Still the torrid pleas of thy soul!', I cry.
Thunder does naught to distill the shrill screams.
Lightning drenches me in thick vulgar sweat;
heart racing, mind pacing, fervent unrest.
'Will I e'er see a brighter morn than this?';
for foul tempest has consumed most my years.
But just then, when all seemed undone, foregone;
rain culls, clouds lift, and a rainbow now dawns.
09.02.2026
('Resist the devil, and he shall flee')
('I have set my rainbow in the clouds...')