Long Involuntarily Poems

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Premium Member Final Moments

I awaken, alarmed by contagion’s dread,
by the advancing bubonic omen. 
My  muscular spasms unleash, involuntarily.
My astonished malediction yawns, cavernous.
I gawk vacantly in my remaining moments, 
at icy stones beneath my trembling feet. 
Just a prisoner, I conclude. 
Just an incorrigible  coward.
Inconsolable, impotent, lachrymose, 
I await my execution.
My penalty decreed in infectious agent.
My sentence prescribed in replicating pathogen.
Cacophonous are my incessant night terrors, 
allying insomnia with somnambulism, 
compounding calamity with conception.
No redemption in these ranting forecasts.
But I cannot reduce the fever.
And raving violence only deepens.     

Yet, when capacity breathes hush in my channel, 
I close my eyes.
Letting go is migrating sentience. 
I am the silent release departing. 
With my interior eye of providence,
I verify the amber brilliance,
this  luz de Amarillo,
The Quaker’s inner light.
The Hindu’s moksha.
The Shaker’s simple gifts.
The Buddha’s luminous mind. 
Dimensionless. 

Breathing again, radiant rapture quenching. 
Breathing again, from the riverbank, 
watching mortal suffering float by.

And in Yoga, the knots of trauma 
dispel from my vertebrate. My spinal lesson,
the simplest song for which I find no words. 
My lives and deaths are passing weather systems. 
Forbearance offers pristine extinction.


Premium Member Egg-Stant History 2

Hello said the owl..' Dumpty just sat down rather morosely:  the owl watched saying no
 more..' after a while Dumpty ventured to ask after the cat, 'how has he been?' he asked.
Well you have been gone 5 days till now, replied the owl.. 'I slept 2 days right off..Then I
awoke I got him a dish of water, WOW..' what a performance that was..' the dish for some reason
decided it did not want to co-operate, I don't know what ever could have got into it.? it
must have got into some strange company somehow..Imagine..' and him in the state he is in..'
there was nothing for It I had to pick up the iron spoon, and threaten to splinter it into a thousand
pieces...' Dumpty shivered involuntarily at this..' you didn't he gasped..' Oh I didn't wish
to do any such thing said the owl, that bowls china  is far to fine; that I would wish to destroy it
anyway whoo whoo.. I mean who knows what future role in story books it has to play? well  he
had a drink poor old thing (mumbled about the fiddle) and then collapsed out again, and I
have not heard a word out of him for the last three days.! He is in a catatonic state you know..)
well that's the medical term..!
 is that because, well because he's a cat asked Dumpty? No  considered the
owl though I had not thought about it that way..' though  praps it might carry some extra stigma..?
 I think it would best not to mention to him when he comes round..!

copyright joe maverick poetry 2014
Form: Narrative

Premium Member We Fall To Rise

we reflect in horror at our deep rooted prejudice 
involuntarily according preference to sensory delight
shifting subtly even in amidst layered shadows of dark
seeking enhancement of impulses impelled by lower mind
deselecting innocent souls with whom ego does not identify
signalling bondage by so intuitively judging by appearance
with class consciousness invisibly labelling human forms
reflecting in hearts silent murmurs countenance mirrors
shrouding our auric field in love repelling devilishness 
divine love steering us for consciousness correction
urging us to seek healing resting in the cave of heart
surrendering all past conditioning ingrained deep within
relying upon Gods hand to guide us through the labyrinth 
that we may vaporise identity in entirety as a hollow shell
magnetised in fullness by His all encompassing grace
swirling currents renewing in unbroken continuum 
transmuting our soul into higher octaves of light

17-June-2021

Premium Member Limerence

Limerence


L  Looking deep into his eyes,
I  inward, past the deep of blue,
M my heart can see the kindness there
E  embracing every part of me.
R  Reciprocal, I hope he feels,
E  entranced as I for this strong pull.
N  Never have I felt this way,
C  captured by infatuation
E  existing for so many years.


Sandra M. Haight

~NA~
Premiere Contest: Limerence
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 07/21/2016

Limerence: the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings but not primarily for a sexual relationship.
Form: Acrostic

Writing poetry, a voice within a voice

“Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice

QUOTE POEM—63

Poetry is pure inner soul’s voice
Conveyed hidden words choice
Quietly spinning lyrical equipoise
Inner voice vibrate audible noise
Poetry echoes words to rejoice

Structured in secret lyrical transaction 
Escapism reality as habitual diversion
Conscience sing to voice lamentation
Heartaches releases in incantation 
Scrupled sensitive view for redemption.

Joyful feeling of life’s vitality 
Limitless expression of creativity
Releases emotion for tranquility 
Sigh of escape to life’s reality
Expression of heartache’s involuntarily
Form: Rhyme


The Face

The day’s wearing labors reluctantly close 
And the stars of the night slowly emerge,
It’s my plan to dine and then anon recline
But then starts this unending mental scourge.

This anonymous dame overseas has stolen my heart.
How I find myself punching her line after line I wonder,
Could she be merely exciting me for her fun and then claim
That the past joinings of God no man should put asunder?

I ignore the dissolute image of her adorable face
And elevate my sleepy thoughts to loftier ideals:
How I might one day write like Bernard Shaw
Or how being the commander-in-chief exactly feels.

But then I do not go far with my fanciful thoughts
Before my drowsy wandering mind is swept bare,
And the face of that unceasing dame obliterates
All the far-fetched castles I had built in the air.

My attempts to disregard her appearance are all in vain
And the more I dodge that face the more it stirs my pain,
Her eyes lock into mine and our arms involuntarily embrace  
As I consider what to do about this ever-appearing face.
Form: Verse

Parched

I remember that well
The poisoned water within
My stomach churns at the thought of its drink
It's been cleaned, or so I'm told.
I can taste its metallic memory
Involuntarily I retch
Shudder.

Can I drink blissfully again
When each glass brings suspicion of death?
Would I chose ignorance?
Is fear so unreasonable?

Shall I suffer instead my thirst?
Parched, shall I instead choose sand?
Licking the dust from my teeth whilst I watch
Ice clinking, water cold and refreshing as it's
Poured, generously, freely, without cost...
But is it a trap? A mirage?
A cruel trick?

Can you ever enjoy the cool, clear water
Once you've tasted the poisoned well?

Premium Member Scarred - the Man I Love

I close my eyes
and I see your face
I reach out my hand
to touch, to explore 
every wrinkle and every outline,

my fingers stop
involuntarily on the scar
I can feel your body retract
your rigid response 
an indication that you’re still not at peace,

you try to move away
to stop me from exploring further
something that is ugly in your eyes,
to me it’s the most distinctive part of you

I wished you would see yourself through my eyes,
because that scar is the one thing 
that is uniquely you
it is one of the things that makes me 
love you more,

you put your life on the line
for a stranger,
the scar a permanent reminder 
of the day I fell in love…

Survival Mode Isn'T the Best Coping Mechanism, It Turns Out

if you could last a day inside the body of 
the lovesick-shell of a human 
i turn into when i'm in love
i would applaud you

allow me to show you a preview first:

as one might think 
loving someone and being in love are 
two vastly different experiences 
whereas 
no matter how hard i try to avoid it
and no matter what outer influence tries to intervene 
once my heart decides it loves a person
much to my demise and almost involuntarily 
i will love you until my chest plate cracks
and shatters
and my heart is 
hopelessly, yet hopefully
crawling towards you 

if you were born into the hurricane
you learn to chase them 
you learn to put yourself inside the eye,
because you’re strong enough to withstand it and you know it
you’re confused between boredom and peace so you opt for danger instead
because you don’t know how to love outside of the whirlwind 
because what else do you know? 

stuck in a loop of coming up with scenarios of what the future might hold.
coming up with an imaginary child that you love with your beating heart 
thinking about how absolutely gut wrenching it would feel to watch her 
feel and think and hurt
the way you are right now 

baby doesn’t deserve that 
you don’t deserve that 
so why would you have baby in a situation with somebody that makes you feel like 
you're standing in the eye of a hurricane? 

because there was once sunlight 
and there was once peace 
and there will be again soon. 

right?

Premium Member DISTANT CANDLES

DISTANT CANDLES *

We are all distant candles-not necessarily by choice
And not necessarily involuntarily- it varies from person
And usually by circumstances although some circumstances
Are of our own making and shaking depending on reason which
Isn’t often treason

We and our life mates are distant candles not knowing
Where our mates are mates are until we find them or
The find us- the answers are out there and perhaps unheeded
Undiscovered and unrealized but we need to do more than reach
Out for who we know not

We distant candles continue to keep our flames going for how long
We know not but some feel as if they should extinguish theirs right away
and don’t want to be swayed- no matter what our views and open thoughts may be
We are distant candles until find the candles for which we long to find- we are distant
Candles until we link



* The Title poem.
© John Long  Create an image from this poem.

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