Long Invisibility Poems
Long Invisibility Poems. Below are the most popular long Invisibility by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Invisibility poems by poem length and keyword.
There is a location where time turns into circles
Down to the oval zeros going nowhere fast
Vacated, convoluted, rolled into yesterdays mistakes
Star imaginings are seen as points of light
Go out beyond the boundaries of space
Mirrored reflections, vacuous blank stares
Glare back on blackness evolving in vast landscapes
Fill it in with nothing on the not so new
Views of distances unheard of simply disappear
Create a distraction in the first place
A perception of fact; in reality a blank
Invisibility exists as a precaution with good intentions
A wish fixated on a promise made in emptiness
Out of sight, null and void, of visions in the void
Noiseless absence goes on with missing particles
That never were nor were they ever meant to be
Eternity terminates inevitably open ended empty
Time stops nowhere in particular quiet in the vacuum
Looks on something not worth mentioning
Vacuous reflections mirrored back
A simple acknowledgment of the negated emptiness
Is that what you get when there is nothing to begin with
A refection, an image, impossible to cast
Down to the oval zeros going nowhere
Filled in with vacuous blank stares that are not there
Shy of condition
Shyness afflicted
Shy opaque canvas butterfly
Who only speaks when addressed
Oh shy , Oh shy
Opaque butterfly
Who only speaks when addressed
Converses only in chilling whispers
shyness permitting
Corner to corner when in a room searching camouflage in which
to shelter cloak invisibility
Personable , polite , contrite yet
sadly lacking personality
Apart from shyness to call
on as a solent friend and crutch
to lean upon
So shy and friendless butterfly
has no one but himself to pacify
his mental health
On the outside but still a bystander
fenced in by wall's built out of social
convention barricade stone's
Alone is shy with untapped depth
bound and blighted by crippling
stage fright
For fear of letting one's presence
be known and felt in company
But no less worthy of being heard
than those who crave and hogg the
limelight for themselves
Who are probably no less or
even more insecure than the
terminal shy
Both suffer from the same
personality condition
just express themselves
in different or their own way
Shy , eccentric , exhibitionist
two sides of the same coin
Unable to express oneself
for fear of being torn apart
for being different
In a world shepherded by sheep
where everyone aspires to be a
lookalike
Everyone eventually ends up
looking like mutton dressed
up in lamb's designer wool
With the wool pulled firmly
over our eye's
Victor Von Doom is looking for trouble,
he wants to turn the world into rubble.
He begins to unleash his evil wrath,
causing carnage to buildings in his path.
Inflamed with hate for the Fantastic Four,
he wants to smash Reed Richards to the floor.
The army is no match for his sharp skills,
his technopathy controls their free wills.
He arrives at the Statue of Liberty,
with a few hostages in captivity.
He is joined by the sly Puppet Master
and Galactus to cause extreme disaster.
Only the family of super heroes can save the day,
with cosmic powers to protect from those who prey.
Mister Fantastic with his elastic limbs and intellect.
Storm the invisible queen with a shield to protect.
The Thing a mountain of might with strength to praise.
The Human Torch a fireball with flames ablaze
Mister Fantastic distracts DR Doom,
the Thing punches him with a big boom!
Storm takes hostages into a room,
her invisibility saving them from gloom.
Human Torch scorches Galactus's face,
defeated, he scurries back into space.
Puppet Master is held down by The Thing,
as Torch smoulders his cerebral strings.
Dr Doom tries to escape Mister Fantastic,
but he captures him with his arms of elastic.
Storm removes his battery power pack,
the Thing drains him further with a big smack!
Villains thrown into a protected jail,
world is safe again to tell a heroic tale..
Another victory as superheroes rise.
Job well done conquering evil's guise!
When business dons the mask of politics,
it ceases to build — it begins to conquer.
Elon, you were an architect of the invisible —
a builder of empires no eye could fully grasp.
But now, you have entered the Roman forum,
where applause is short-lived,
and daggers are hidden in roses.
You played the game of gods,
but politics is not for Titans —
it is for tricksters, for shadows,
for those who understand
that visibility is the first stage of crucifixion.
What the world sees, it fears.
What it fears, it destroys.
Your umbilical cord is buried in African soil,
yet you build your castles in foreign deserts.
The wealth you command could restore rivers
to parched lands, put books in empty hands,
heal broken nations — but instead,
you joust with egos in the colosseum of fools.
You once praised kings;
now you provoke them.
But do not mistake your followers
for an army —
they are spectators in the theater of downfall.
You will not outplay the House
by flipping its cards.
The House is the game.
Retreat.
Not in cowardice —
but in strategy.
Let the quiet do your work.
History rewards those
who leave whispers in its pages,
not shouts in its squares.
And to the people:
do not crown merchants as prophets.
Do not turn billionaires into messiahs.
Power loves a puppet
but fears the poor who awaken.
Remember:
Invisibility is invincibility.
And what hides
often rules what reigns.
Leaves shook themselves free from the branches that held them
And flew to where time has no beginning
And no end!
There, they remained, rooted
Transfixed, unable to move
For the glory of it all was astounding!
There, they knew they could turn into whatever they wanted
From caterpillars to mighty butterflies
From cannibalistic plants to innocent graceful looking flowers
From beauteous beings to rogue giants
Why, there, where life is as is yet unknown to man
Leaves love it there for they feel comforted and safe!
Similarly, like those leaves stuck on branches, I strive to break free
To tear my chains apart
To float in the sea of mundane existence
To be submerged not with the pleasures of life
Why, if I could be a leaf
I would have strived not so much
I would have let myself be propelled by the winds
Winds being but caring angels shrouded in invisibility
Winds knowing where my destination does be!
But then, the human fate is different
The human fate is to act and to suffer of the consequences thereof
The human's path towards the same destination
Is somewhat different from that of the leaf's!
I draw you on scraps of memory
in portions and pieces.
I can't make you whole now,
can't see all of you.
The tropical beach
has almost washed itself away.
Wind-wept hair flowing over one eye;
how do you draw laughter?
I mind-paint only one wave
retrace long brown legs.
Contours swim into invisibility,
too much to grasp hold of -
your warm salty breath, dark lips;
morsels smother my thoughts
in a haze of remorseless time.
Yet there you are in fragments
running ankle deep
in an ever moving sky.
I must pause, glance deeper,
pull out another blank page
from my personal history book.
The more I try to put you together
the less I capture,
the jigsaw is scattered
segments forever lost.
It seems to me now
that the dead do not fade,
it is the living who move into the clouds
looking for what we once were.
Our Soldier Son
2007
We sat together in the front row
At airport gate number five
(his father and I),
Watching as he paced
Toward the exiting corridor.
Then at the opening of that
Passage, he stepped to turn about-face,
Returning his way back to us.
He had brought Iraq along with him — blown,
Thrown in with him,an illusory, yet
Unignorable, oppressive envelope, seen
Quickly by his uniform
(not army green),
From shoulders to feet,
The color of dune sand —
A neutral color, negligible,
Meant for fading away
Into invisibility —
But, still, bearing within it, a human being,
Breathing in the reality of war…
This time in Iraq.
Our son
Ready to fly off for his 2nd tour there:
Tank gunner; despising
the unrelenting sand bugs;
only ever asking for clean socks.
He continued his pacing-march
Near us.
Without peace,
Already on the way,
Already outfitted to seem part of a sandstorm
— light, only essence; a reality elsewhere;
a heart guarded;
a soul on hold; ears alert for commands,
And now for a call to begin boarding.
We were silent as he hoisted his gear, although
We rushed to him
As if we could be of any help.
And…
What? What, dear Lord, do you say
Sending a son off on a flight
Back to war?
Words are all inadequate —
Though they must be said.
Hugs cannot enfold the love’s totality,
nor could hold him
Back from going,
But the motions must be made.
There was our silent gift
Of faith, to him, to ourselves,
For his safe return.
Faith is held for many things
From survival to resurrection.
The memories are kept.
The present is paced.
The future is hope.
———————————————-
(c)sally young Eslinger 11/12/21
Thanks be to God
———
Oh Chaldean Sea God, Loreley whispered. Bring him back to me.
She was counting on her favorite god, next to her favorite place, Rhine Sea.
Alas, the man she loved had run off with another – consummation not to be
So she threw herself into the depths. Turned into a German Nixie for eternity.
As a Nixie she could turn herself into a beautiful young woman or old hag.
She had so many powerful spells now, she saturated the ships that did lag.
Watch out for Lorelei, the siren, the captains cautioned their young men.
Knowing sex and sensuality transformed males time and time again.
In the depths of Sankt Goarshausen Loreley produced an echo clear.
She called to the hopes and dreams of the sailors as their ships got near.
Transmogrification and invisibility both at her prophetic finger tips.
She coaxed young sailors to their deaths, giving them a tiny taste of lips.
I was never so childhood invincible
as when invisibility empowered.
We are never so integrity distinguished
than when actively flexible.
Earth could channel West-hemisphere wealth competitions
monoculturing
healthiest when East/West nondual WholeEarth cooperative
polyculturing.
LeftBrain psyches of dominant cognitive dissonance
are never so invincible
as when RightBrain prominently cooperative Whole
integrity of Default Mode Network,
invisibly Win/Win bicameral
bilateral
binomially co-passionate.
I have never been so old age invincible
as when invisible ego/eco-empowered,
in/out mediated,
median minded,
cooperative default mode hearted.
God and satan....
Like comparing immortality to aging
Always i find myself embracing arms of a lover
Who seems to be confused of the two
Anger does not hold me but does drench my heart in two
Holding to her, so maybe she will see
Can she break the spell of my invisibility?
Lunar eclipse dawns
And with it my heart felt songs
Singing to her from distance long
If a flame flickers il shelter on
Dont posion yourself dear
My heart beats and does draw near
Dark elf with fluttered fears
I am here
Hark
My call does clear
Satan holds power like a kid clenching candy
Understand how it began
Satan had stolen
And now i become the end