Long Lapsed Poems
Long Lapsed Poems. Below are the most popular long Lapsed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lapsed poems by poem length and keyword.
—Before Love Could Count—
The youngest lingered when the household's breath
Had lapsed into nocturnal quietude,
As one who bears, not petulance, but truth
Too weighty for the custody of years,
And with a countenance unfortified
By any artifice of elder grief,
Preferred at last this visitation plain:
"Which one dost love the more?"
I made no answer; for thy syllables
Transgressed the jurisdiction of reply,
Descending where the inmost conscience keeps
Those unarraigned derelictions of the heart
Whose very innocence condemns the more.
What imperceptible diminishment,
What inadvertent sequestration of
My presence, or what uncommemorated hour,
Had germinated this clandestine dread
Until it flowered beneath thy faithful voice?
No chronicle restored that hidden dawn.
Remembrance chronicles the visible wound,
Yet leaves uncatalogued those noiseless griefs
Whose first inception passes unobserved,
Until one guileless question rends the veil.
Then all my children rose—not serially,
As history enumerates mortal years,
But in one simultaneous radiance,
Each the inaugurator of a love
The antecedent self could not conceive.
Before you were born, my love had no plural.
Not poorer then, but yet inchoate still,
For every birth annulled the man before
And consecrated one unprecedented,
Whose heart acquired, by each nativity,
Another unsuspected mode of grace.
Come hither.
Let no arithmetic profane
What Providence hath never taught to count.
The rain fell once.
The leaves received it separately.
Countless generations lapsed since height of Greco-Roman mythology conceived, birthed and populated vast canopy of sky and expanse of terrestrial firmament, whereat obeisant propinquity quintessentially remains stalwart this day and age as guise dolls dote demonstrably come Valentine’s Day, when Cupid plucked from the quiver, notched in bowstring and launched Eros tinged arrow induces love struck swain to swoon upon a lassie fair, whence fecund female feast proliferates progeny.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
bona fide hormonal hankering didst since Adam and Eve a wake
aromatic, balmy, and captivating as effect from drinking sassafras
kin powerful pulsations viz diving rod erect phallus
creating con fusion pro bono er to enter lips engorged mass
Pussy swathed qua tangle of coiled, kinked, and thatched course grass
Willy wonka with vestal virgin hair line gonadal zone **** embarrass
twig and berries rutting, rusticating, routing and romancing intent
to deflower re: piercing hymen
with nary immune to perdition or déclassé
hello kitty edenic tropic of cancer coital compass
emitting pheromones culling asper a bong
clapping banging brass
intractable supremacy reproductive sport
waging whore with contemporary take
verboten fruit sexual pang thrust forward
omnipotent magnetic thirst to slake
unstoppable passions flared unfazed as annals
depict how hot coals feet did rake
despite hollow religious strictures obloquy,
the serum filled genitals did quake
infiltrate historical manifestations, naked humans
prey zing clear or opaque
deities of yesteryear demonstrable
bas relief showers copulation doth make
primal urges imbued *****sapiens
e’er since first man saw lady of the lake
triggering libidinal longing inducing salivation sans love struck drake
multi-tiered mouth watering orgasmic gastronomic carnal cake
Aphrodite spellbinding storied sport thrives inducing heart break
imbuing human guys gals feverish enthralled dizzy catnip behoove ache.
After a lifetime
(pronounced like millennium),
where tenacity futilely braced
psyche deeply purpled,
hellishly, and lethally
traced resulting scars -
jackknifed, emasculated
cruelly chaste
sexuality expired, lapsed,
and petered out testosterone
begone to waste,
and how this abased
bereft of eroded optimism,
nee faith no more - erased,
solitary carbon based animal
coalesced into countless
foreborn generations
(glommed *****sapiens
salient survival skills)
mortified, putrefied, and
stagnated toxic brew
quaffing poisonous
score peon - composite gin,
barley distilled, exiled,
and fragmented
human encased
faculties doggedly
catapulted, with haste
squandered genetic inheritance
kamikaze potential
apathetically plundered, akin
how Hindenburg plummeted
like led zeppelin,
(scare way to craven)
his foghorn emitting distinctive
Semitic bulbous
shofar shaped schnozzle traced
analogous to decrepit son -
dialed helpline to late
promising lad once vaunted
lauded, and
deemed hereditarily, -
he busted great expectations
quintessentially, psycho
socially, and opportunistically
lineage noble storied
standing déclassé debased
forced to take stock at aging
non-thrilled man
in the mirror
haggard heavily creased
doughy paste poker face
(born that way)
blankly stare ring back, spaced
out, no longer boyish,
but gray bearly grizzled,
flecked, and etched stubble,
scraggly unkempt whiskers
discombobulated
straggly matted hair
limply drape stupefied noggin
utterly disc graced
countenance eye spy
crows feet laced
blotchy complexion re: placed
once smooth skin
donned dawning senescence
amplification trumped
"NON FAKE" crudely
aping scrim age lost
fight of his life.
While Up And Adrift In Cloud 9...
Reprieve from damp,
and rainy, or sultry weather,
I schlepped a
light weight Shaker
made folding chair
out upon Jim Baker
Nabor's green acre
and once enthroned
as a " FAKE FAKIR"
in rubberized web
bing (seam ming lee
lapis lazuli trimmed),
this body of mine
lapsed into Quaker
state averse to focus attention,
gnome hatter eyes fixedly glute
to the pages, sans
newsworthy printed material,
to apprise and jute
keeping me astute
with major local and global
journalistic burning hotspots
whatsapp pining (the
most recent issue Newt
about Gingrich commendable
TIME magazine), boot
with rather light
breeze tolerably blowing
temperate, moderate air currents
enveloping this here ole coot,
who aint got Hoot
tee and the Blowfish, nor toot
from no mo' magic flute,
thus by natural
dint cocked mean
looking head (you figure out
which one) between
the devil and the
deep blue seas tureen,
which gaze extended clean
skyward to cerulean vault
populated with strunk
and white tufts
in stark contrast did lean
in to the verdant rich green
sward abuzz within
invisible micro ecosystems
niched and stitched by Jean
E. Huss flora Dean
and endearing fauna
minted quartered gene,
which hubbub of variegated
organisms sound
accompanied motley crue
of each scudding soundcloud
shape shifting bill
low whee near weightless
(cottony ma their) keen
stern preachily mass stir,
then puff (like
a magic dragon),
no more easily seen.
When growing up as a only child
always so loved to get a letter
living in countryside few folk around
postie delivery made me feel better
Leaving school no great intentions
but had within me real desire
to be a postman delivering mail
this would be a job I'd never tire
I did once get interview appointment
nervous I was with my stammer
the interviewer questioned my resolve
to communicate with public, real hammer!
But amazingly I was offered position
doubts then had filled my mind
confidence lapsed to do the job
so declined offer never again to find
So my desire to deliver unfulfilled
but life's been good all the same
never the less it would have been nice
anyway wasn't meant to have my name
Written: January 16, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I'm aged echoes utter to unfold,
I recall a time that was brief as flame,
Humming of lapsed whispers reckon my name,
By the warmth of dusk, my soul is consoled;
We strive to hold our chisel with each breath,
An epic tale where your hoarse dreams run high,
You moved into the dimness, morphing sigh,
And discovered a gold heart before death;
Eternal seas that wash upon the shore,
Contain the truths that age shall not disclaim,
Each wave a metaphor for life’s acclaim,
As tides remind you love is at its core.
Relief courtesy dreaded (re:) inspection not revisited until May 2022
Anticipatory anxiety put on high alert
when the warden gave less than a week
courtesy spluttering tone of voice
she did angrily blurt
nsync with her usual persona
being wickedly curt
treating us (myself and missus) like dirt
gloating in our writhing adversity
poor, sharecroppers, no matter yours truly indigent
no matter exhaustive effort I do exert
to secure living income/wage, thus flirt
with visions of illusions grandeur
analogous to taut pulled belt girt
tightly around psyche whereby temple hurt
with unbearable agony
rendering these lovely bones inert.
Grosse and Quade Management
at 2 Highland Manor Apartments
with Jackie Geiger at the helm
finds yours truly afflicted with weak
praise, cuz she left us
(meself and the missus)
in figurative darkness,
whereby I electronically bellow and shriek
silently critiquing as if writing op/ed
for Time magazine and/or defunct Newsweek
perhaps under heading summarizing healthweek,
which hypothetical issue possibly considered
virtual collector's item
and subsequently unreal antique.
Nevertheless said rich daddy's princess
forewarned yours truly and spouse
dated June 24th, 2021,
quoted verbatim as follows:
Dear Mr. & Mrs. Harris
Due to your recent annual inspection,
we will be re-inspecting
your apartment on Tuesday, June 29th
from 11am-4pm.
We will be conducting
the inspection to ensure
you are making progress
cleaning your apartment,
especially your kitchen and bathroom areas.
We also want to keep up
with eliminating your fruit fly issue
in your apartment.
The above date came and went
(as did two other recently lapsed dates),
we never got notified
approximately five year tenant
logically concluded - and anger pent
up inside furious enough
methinks gross analogy when
twenty eight National Guardsmen
fired their weapons at a group
of anti-war demonstrators at Kent
State On May 4, 1970,
now mine poem attains completion extent.
Prolonged offal bout courtesy constipation... redux
a worse hellish fate than perdition
At least forty eight hour time span
lapsed whereby big boy wanted to cry
explaining how yours truly
felt he would die
an undertaking malaise
found me experiencing physical duress vis a vis,
a bowel movement,
wherein waste unable to expel
from the anus of this guy,
which bout with rectal obstruction
found me doubled over
with lower abdominal distress
whereby comfort found me unable to lie
down nor sit upright
(with back padded with pillows
against the cellar brick wall),
thus severe bloating a bonus well nigh
and managed on a previous occasion
to muster the means to bare
frigid arctic vortex aire to purchase
the Acme brand Metamucil,
which akin to Drano doth ply
thru the excretory tract
supposedly loosening the stools,
which optimism (product
didst earn claim to fame) generated a sigh
if that expressed intent
to cease LivingSocial would try
humph enjoining this lxii year old married male
to cede victory to the grim reaper, who would vie
as winner de jure
to this common fellow invoking libretto
ohm resistant understudy waste not want not
allowing, enabling and providing relief,
without successful defecation
despite the oppressive urge to bolster this Uriah
heap of balled up and tuckered out
five foot and ten inches of lovely bones,
thence mouthing retraction
of former thought to cease existing
though a non-bull lever
in any power broker qua mankind
relief at long last
provided posterior answered prayer
yet, this scrivener
scrutinizes his recurring
pain in the ass jagged torture
and asks a rhetorical one word question "WHY"?
As of early August 20th, 2021-
I finally move bowels but...
mine whole body felt
analogous to sluggish mollusk
stasis of lower bowel found yours truly
doubled over in gastrointestinal agony
as if elephant or red (livid with rage)
bull thrust his tusk into mine tush
ah...voila... hence subsequently I tout
blessed magic of laxatives
Amitiza, Dulcolax, and Miralax
relieving lower abdominal and rectal
discomfort agonizing me dawn to dusk.
Sweetness Ordained
Can you remember
a smell
or only a fact
Can a bakery
in passing
free a memory lapsed
A sensory
flashback
its sweetness ordained
Olfactory joy
surviving time
— and the flame
**
Breathing Closer
Death
I hear thee coming
but still see thee not
Death
your chilling shadow
Atropos casting lots
Death
breathing closer
inhaling my soul
Death
by day silent
— the darkness extols
**
Dark Symbiosis
You heard me whisper
I heard you cry
You tracked my footsteps
which bade goodbye
A star crossed tandem
in shared release
Dark symbiosis
— of love’s retreat
**
A New Calling
Don’t ever let life
deprive you
of what only
death can claim
Each day of excuse
and diverted
dreams
will lock your hope in chains
Only when final
divinely
inspired
and stepping through the wind
Toward a new
calling
and fresh paradigm
— are we blessed to rebegin
**
What kind of foolish heart would let you slip from grasp?
In a land of ten-thousand fools, I would be the king of them
I will now forever walk a lonely path that I have laid myself;
sorrow, torment, regret will be my ever-present burden.
In a land of ten-thousand fools, I would be the king of them
I strayed, lapsed, and failed to stay my earthy urges.
Sorrow, torment, regret will be my ever-present burden.
If it were possible to turn back the clock, I would in instant.
I strayed, lapsed, and failed to stay my earthy urges
Senseless self-gratification, a massaged ego, failure.
If it were possible to turn back the clock, I would in instant.
Could I sing "Non, je ne regrette rien." No, it would be a lie.
Senseless self-gratification, a massaged ego, failure.
Empty glasses in empty bars, this empty foolish heart
Could I sing "Non, je ne regrette rien." No, it would be a lie.
I said my sorries, yet you knew weakness would lead me to repeat.
I saw you gliding by across a busy street today and realized
I will now forever walk a lonely path that I have laid myself
Your beauty, within you and without, what have I done?
What kind of foolish heart would let you slip from grasp?
MY FOOLISH HEART Cash Prize Poetry Contest; placed 5th
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Date wrote: 3rd April 2022