Long Loosed Poems
Long Loosed Poems. Below are the most popular long Loosed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Loosed poems by poem length and keyword.
Voluntary unconditional surrender woke...,
Viz hitting yours truly,
when yokel egghead doth jinx
whereby ye cannot comprehend figurative
wimpy vainglory, unequivocally, tectonically,
smoldering resentments I stoke,
he doth bare his soul no joke,
no matter insight doth severely challenge
cyber surfing passersby, who attempt
to interpret courtesy
mental torture doth invoke
brutality, difficulty, futility gobbledygook,
heavily taxing your fifty
plus shades of gray
I apologetically, grudgingly (ha),
painstakingly, unwittingly... poke,
when mine broadcast
red by anonymous folk
admittedly poetically trumpeting ambiguity
overlain donned with high falutin cloak
peace be with thee courtesy this bloke.
Electronic date/time stamp permeates
within copious, illustrious,
and porous corpus callosum
hemispheric spongy sinks
mister re: mysterious as Sphinx
validation indubitably backfires
invariably induces loosed
unicellular sized rat finks
cerebral blackout courtesy
one to many drinks,
envision sucker punched by
rockin sockin robots one named
Muhammad Ali t'other Leon Spinks,
or gordian knotted cognitive kinks
bajillion befuddled blinks,
albeit feeble analogy methinks
to render genuine concomitant
convoluted, mangled, twisted... (think
Möbius strip) sentiment
specifically linkedin with
sincere appreciation meant
pertaining to this gent
despite slight trepidation
as faux Geico petsmart agent
forced celibate nun sensical chap
considering entering convent
cloistered existence remaining
days of my life get spent,
where "15 minutes
might save me, not so shabby decent
15% or more on car insurance."
Paraphrase aforementioned Matt Speak
more easily succinctly understood,
versus gibberish as ????????
(i.e. the word Greek spelled in Greek)
essentially long in the tooth fella
self anointed literate sheikh
feeble flattered fungi with
average mushroom shaped physique
trends towards playfulness
in tandem with harmless streak
merely acknowledges how his unique
self expression oft times
tongue-in-cheek
experiences giddiness at unsolicited
positive feedback versus he/she,
who doth bitingly, flagrantly,
outrageously, witheringly... critique
modesty misunderstood equivalent
of poetic (peekaboo) hide and seek
to Dani body hook ken find me
game to reveal me re: hide and seek.
And ignoble prize trumpeting hubris awarded to...
Bourgeoisie donning ersatz
overstuffed ego freezer bewigged pate
"FAKE" grotesque humanitarian
bribed corrupt judges will vindicate
jimmied cracked corn
land of "milk and honey"
red hot button he spoils to activate
countdown to Armageddon
leaving nation prostrate,
all the more reason to axe electoral college,
now holds electorate
hostage to bully tactics grate
for dead souls – zombie thriller, viz
Putin on the ritz,
whereby Pavlov's dog will salivate
on cue and pony show will titillate,
and worse case scenario, a far more terrible fate
than death by a thousand cuts
equals his refusal not to abdicate
presidency, should voters
get smart to administrate
White House with progressive commander
in chief he/she will adjudicate
decency, honesty, integrity... and acclimate
government toward amity, comity, equality...
oh,... and most importantly advocate
salutary measures affecting biosphere,
where industrialization didst devastate
contaminate by bajillion beings birthrate,
every square inch of Earth
*****sapiens succeeded to abominate...,
prima facie global warming doth correlate,
hence primary requisite mandate
to reorient modus operandi no time to wait,
where carbon footprint negligible
still preserving technological paradigm
fixing low cussed electricity to generate
courtesy renewable resources
else man/womankind will become footnote
atrophied trappings agglomerate
twenty first century civilization
damned, inundated, ossified bridgegate
checkmated, choked, chucked... wag gone wheels
das spare - tread fully tires fuming primate
jammed fruits of loins going bananas
infuriating, exhausting accelerating
no exit (sorry Sartre) to circumnavigate
hardy lee any recourse to extricate
oneself from madding crowd
self resignation minimally doth alleviate,
whereby impatient broods frustrate
inaccessible jackknifed mobility,
thence spark ignites spontaneous eruption
impossible mission to plug
crowdsource mob frenzy translate
pent up fury once loosed doth degenerate
into atavistic pandemonium cutthroat rage
snarling human logjam foaming at mouth
poised to strike ready to decapitate
any remaining shred of salvation barren feeble
slow vac hoovering, milking, and sucking
every last vestige of bondage peoples extirpate.
He is my almighty, my always, my armor
He is my blessing, my breath, my boldness
He is my comfort, my carpenter, my compassion
He is my divinity, my devotion, my delight
He is my earth, my eternity, my enlightenment
He is my faith, my fulfillment, my future
He is my God, my gift, my grace
He is my hope, my heart, my heaven
He is my insight, my inspiration, my inner guide
He is my joy, my judgement, my Jesus
He is my king, my kindness, my keeper
He is my light, my love, my laughter
He is my maker, my music, my morning
He is my necessity, my nurturer, my night
He is my openness, my oil, my offering
He is my purity, my praise, my peace
He is my quest, my quiet, my quivering
He is my rock, my redeemer, my rest
He is my shepherd, my sight, my sensitivity
He is my truth, my treasure, my theology
He is my understanding, my unity, my usefulness
He is my value, my vastness, my virtue
He is my worth, my warmth, my wisdom
He is my xenia, my xenas, my xenodochy
He is my yearning, my yore, my yesterday
He is my zeal, my zenith, my zest
He is my Jesus, He is my God, He is my Holy Spirit
He is the One I love… He is my everything
Yesterday, tomorrow and today – always
He holds the key to death and the grave
As well as my eternity – Praise His holy name!
Matthew 16:13-19
King James Version
13 When Jesus came into the coasts of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of man am?
14 And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets.
15 He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am?
16 And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.
17 And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven.
18 And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.
19 And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.
Tell Me, Who Do You Say That I Am Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
April 22, 2021
The hurt builds inside, with no way to get free from within.
It’s havoc safely locked away, unable to wreak the divine chaos it so desires To spread like poison amongst cravings of unbridled fury.
To inflict on the soul that ignited this bitterness still left unspoken,
Screaming on the inside, paint on my smile, and look happy for the camera.
Why is it my heart cannot abide the counsel of my mind?
I would not have this anger and thirst for destruction dwelling on my mind.
The shattered glass has fallen in shards by my feet,
The leftover pieces of an emotion that doesn't fascinate me like it did before.
Always dancing out of my grasp, tempting me to seize what I cannot.
The illusions of my mind, the ones where I was loved, and I was happy,
Begin to disintegrate around me, flour and water mix, then become a paste.
One small, with its fiction and fantasies, it weaves a giant web of deceit.
I tried so hard to make them see that love has a cruel cycle it follows,
Demanding devotion, with it's array of charms and sober unrealities.
Impacts are worse on the naïve; truth becomes a chaos loosed in their souls.
The fright, shock leaves me standing alone not knowing where or who I am.
Bewildered, I wonder why I took this chance at potential annihilation,
The fabrication of my life filled with the wreckage of my self-destruction,
My downfall closing in quickly, I can taste defeat, like bile in my mouth
The flavor burns as it fills my mouth, I spit, foul though it may be,
I have unwillingly endured exposure to harsh realities, I can take no more.
Seclusion begins to soften my still raw emotions so I examine them up close.
Barriers stand on end, like a firewall, made of unyielding rocks and stones.
This time it will take more than charm and whit to break them down.
No big bad wolf to blow down my walls, strong in their assembly,
My refuge is sturdy, well built and formidable, and that is the way I need it.
Once again, I have restored my sanity, if only for the moment, and for now,
I will watch the daily lives of those around me, unable to participate, again.
One day I will rejoin the world, but for now I will stay behind my walls,
I will watch from afar and dream of the time I was on the outside,
Even if only for a moment in time, I was there and I tasted the air out there.
And the red demons screamed aloud,
miseries and gories of a black scary death hurried by in the middle of the night.
My father's shrine quaked in pity,
My mother's excited wrapper loosed.
Cain hurried by for the blood and skull of his brother.
The Israelites defeated by Nigerians!
How could it be their bones scattered in the midst of Nigerian greens?
Drought. Hunger. Defeat. Death. Evil.
Death brought all eyes to the feasting table of mediocres.
Yet another feast for the deadly vultures,
Yet another testimony for the pit of hell.
For every righteous man labelled 666,
For the indigenous heaven' occupants.
Every children eyes shot horribly,
Mothers, basking their fears in the hands of death, madly.
The owls howled terribly torturing the sirenity of the cloud.
The lions tamed and goats wilder.
Darkened wind roared by,
Thick gummy substances of the lurking embryo of the night cried.
The wind stood, the stars wept.
The moon hallucinated.
Another destruction!
Another destruction!!
Christ watched at the corner of hell,
Satan seen standing at the gate of heaven.
Hell loosed! Demons freed!
Angels captivated mockingly in the
Voidness vodka of the horrored emptiness.
The minted red evil spirits shriek of laughter echoed in the bottomless pit, dark.void. gloomy. Saddened.
empty survivor's of royal Oak of vivid imagination darkened the unqualified agony lurking the painted firmament, advocating the peace of the world.
Blood shattered all around, skulls littered yonder.
The ant' eyes bugged with a lonely fierce myth along hell.
They sounded the trumpet without the knowledge of Christ.
They have tortured silence in heaven,
They have made war and war among nature, and humans will bear the consequences.
And every pillars are set loosed and the earth will wail soonest.
Woe, woe to the world for the dragon is set free.
The punctured silence flew into the world and humans groaned in fear.
Terrible strange agonies gripped humans.
And the angels waited on and on for the set time of another trumpet.
Darkness filled the earth and Christ is come.
And I raised my head to a new world from my nightmare,
These words are broken, I lost my mind scripting them.
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent
Some strong emotion
touched my mind today
it wasn't quite expected
and was quickly pushed away
then later as the evening passed
the thought that harvested emotion
intruded on every thought that entered
my awareness
and pressed for recognition
this thought was not a thought of harm
in fact was intended to inspire
this thought that reaped a harvest of fear and hurt
was simply stated
find happy
and now as evening passes
into morning
I quietly asses
the thoughts that help me
to be happy
and can tell that they too
cause distress
for although the memories
from within the fields of my mind
often find a way to feed
some hunger
they also seem to be a plague
that tears my heart asunder
how is it that a happy thought
can lead to so much destruction
that at one point you're laughing
and have cramps in your face
and tummy
and the next you're crying
and hurt all over
after going through a period
of disconnect
and feeling a storm build despite
the elements from climate control
why is it so surprising that
one thought
could cause such a LOSS of control
Even now a scientist may wish
for climate control
But a thing as simple as the beat
of a butterfly wing
as small
throws even the best plans off
Then why should a thought of control
not be effected
by the similar
the beat of one butterfly wing
the same as one phrase
is small, yes
but is not insignificant
I have learned over time
that control is an illusion
so why I thought my mind
protected
eludes me still
A thought becomes that tiny spark
that transforms into emotion
the trick is in turning the effects
into something useful
I guess what I can take from this
is that not everything can be contained and controlled
and what I am given
that is loosed in my mind
can be turned into something of value
its worth greater
that its weight in gold
a thought of inspiration
may indeed sometimes cause
hurt
but taking time to be AWARE
will help you grow
and help you learn to acknowledge the hurt
to live
to accept the moment
to not push it unwanted away
and with those thoughts
the inspired words
find happy
you learn to be happy
No rhyme nor reason why
yours truly recalled how
me late mother
(earlier in her fitbit livingsocial years)
non verbally communicated disgust
(insync with audible sigh)
quite often ultimatums
blasting fulminating nauseating
scathing well nigh
she loosed loathing against
grungy looking son (guess who)
futilely escaped wrath of Harriet Khan
clamoring upon rooftop high
offering birds eye view
out of earshot and eyesight aye
catching sunbeams while smiling wry
cowardly lion sought divine intervention
courtesy sheltering sky
acres of shingles I sprawled
these lovely bones did lie
property of garden variety generic guy.
She who helped beget and birth
sole heir inheriting gamut of behavioral quirks
linkedin with many predecessors,
who trod, slunk, roamed...
across planet Earth.
Best bet said present day scribe i.e.
poetic, nonesstablishmentarian, liberal,
jesting, humble, freelance, dilatory bummer
whose hindsight evinced a student dumber
than his classmates wheedled
(as targeted scapegoat) by bullies their flummer
re: entrapped - worse louse than lice
internalized trauma left figurative tread marks
analogous to raging road runner
pressing accelerator pedal of hummer
driven by (an actual person) one Roger Kummerer.
Despite agonizing vicious tongue lashing
against flesh and blood,
which venomous invisible whiplash
never petered out
(even when sundry bloke
got married and gladly left home)
abusive treatment markedly
left appalling, loathing and percolating
ambivalence if though mama passed away
(these last seventeen plus years) wrung
cash crop of poetic endeavors,
albeit resultant lackluster
literary crafted aspirations.
Memory of mom overshadowed
by similar facsimile thereof
think shrieking banshee,
an indelible psychological imprimatur,
I strive to acknowledge
emotional reverberations to date
(May 27th, 2021).
My trademark wordsmith fashioned communiqué
impossible mission to shake off bittersweet feelings
toward once (former) Arthur Murray dance instructor
which fancy footwork synchronized with favorite
debonair handsome young fella (papa)
both flirts buoyant with elan and energy
only thru death will angst become free
interestingly enough hands will clap with glee.
within the under belly of
this hob bull ling Leviathan beast
induced roaring hungry soundcloud issued
within abdominal folds
finding they in creased
never diminishing, matter
whether I turn north, south, west or east
this adult desired,
soon after he envisioned
buttered crispy dish eyed fancily feast
culinary cut throat Michelin meisters
(pit a less lee) pitted
against Pillsbury doughboy greased
imaginatively gobbling hectare
thousand island inlaid
juiced kickstarting least
unable to pay thee Monsieur's consigliere –
damn, hard cold cash just shy by a nickle
aye first taken got taken hostage
as a wreck loose poet,
the anti write cadre
strip searched
every stitch of clothes I wore,
then subjected me to an aye tip pickle
pun hush ment,
where this deplorable basket case
stood aghast as hounds from hell
got loosed by thee Don Rickle
lathered canine chops
slapped by foamy salivating tongues
poised to ham er and
make mince meat out this pop sickle
but...lo and behold, as vicious
snooping doggy dogs
approached within a hair breadth
minecrafted fingers fluttered
in the air asper ready to tickle
whereat the snarling killers (bon jove)
rolled with faux pas in the air
kicking, laughing (or a similar
fox simile thereof),
inciting Major Domo tuff flair
his nostrils (like...well
an amazing dragon)
with blood red eyes didst glare
while fur sprouted over his bare skin
honor ably dispelling every last hair
which bizarre circumstance, an opportunity
to escape from this thieving Magpie lair
approved by the ghost of Rossini,
who suddenly prestidigitatiously
magically brought to my defense William Tell
(in the guise oven
instant activating App) pull lick caisson
thus juiced by a whisker avoiding a scare.
Perhaps the realm where dormant ideas germinate
will coalesce into sturdy tomes even if posthumously late
recognition gets affianced with a memorialized slate
where no body will lie,
cuz this mortal will get his ashes sprinkled
intermixed with wildlife,
who will unknowingly consecrate and sanctify
rack and pinion traction,
where dost dust will fertile lies
to become reincarnated
via blessings sans creatures who defecate or urinate.
They were hard-pressed on all sides.
only shot, stabbing strokes could they give,
they were carried on a wave of hate,
their muscle's ached and pain did sing,
the time to push forward one last time.
The main battle unit of foot,
they have stopped moving back,
once more forwards,
slowly they sing death's song.
Once more the Arlagh feels their sting,
this had to be their last push,
their strength was ebbing,
the blood would have to flow.
The cavalry on the left,
all their arrows had been loosed,
now, sword and spear to battle,
half of them attacking the enemies left flank.
The other half now though for survival,
the enemy hidden, they came out of the trees,
live or die, Alahsar's own fight 'til the end,
only time knew the outcome.
The mother of the storm and her army,
they were now split into three units,
the mother of the storm attacked the rear of the enemy,
half the force followed the mother.
Four hundred dark men, ready to kill,
they thundered across the plain,
thunder and lighting spilling out before them,
death to the forces of Evil.
Two hundred Dark Men led by Turvehr,
they would attack a new enemy,
those streaming over the Palovar Ford,
already, the first rumble was heard.
black blood would mingle with red,
gold blood would also spill,
this group would have to hold firm,
if they fell, all could be lost.
The third group of two hundred Dark Men,
they rode swiftly to the left,
reinforcing the mounted guard,
lightning rode with them.
They rode their Unicorns at the gallop,
soon the battle crash,
the Arlaghs would stand or fall,
all was in the hands of the Gods.
Now, on the right flank,
one hundred and fifty shield riders,
they crash into the Arlaghs and Spiders,
swords cutting through giant legs,
spears thrusting through Arlaghs,
this attack was little expected,
now, the battle is hot,
Screams of dying Men, Spiders and Arlaghs, filling the air.
The shield riders we have left,
going over the Raven bridge,
they now gallop through the trees,
before them, they hear the unseen enemy.
The silver gate is open,
it must be closed,
they would gallop out of the trees,
attacking a hopefully, unexpectant enemy.
Adventitious existence birthed introverted spiritual outlier i.e. me
Speculative fictitious flirtation imagined
courtesy grown old male offspring (me)
begat when mine late mother and father met
former named, a popular Arthur Murray
ballroom dance studio instructor.
Subtle social cues (nonverbal or otherwise)
relayed, linkedin and exchanged
constituting courtship between
Harriet and Boyce
particularly on Valentine's Day
circa ~ mid 1950's.
Two young lovebirds
oblivious to cares and concerns
of uncertain webbed wide world
passionately kissed each other
murmuring sweet nothings
within most convenient ear of the other.
Romance blossomed
requited love ensued
avowed marital troth pledged,
a June 1955 wedding planned.
Soon thereafter
bedroom door locked, I presume
unbridled call of the wild
high powered pistol loosed
courtesy soundcloud hit bullseye
with figurative vroom
biological seed of life
and white Lily fertilized.
Thirteen months after eldest sister born
suckling from horn
of good hope
breast nursing done during the morn.
Forthwith brother planted in womb
hereditary characteristics transmitted
eons old traits disseminated
multitude of random chromosomes
deployed comprising frothy spume
housed generations foregone
maternal and paternal genes
unleashed unwittingly bequeathed
by ancestral forebears
anonymous long forgotten handsome groom
memorabilia couched as tintype
(also known as
a melainotype or ferrotype)
treasured analogous as
if relic dug up within ancient tomb,
perhaps clapper and bell foretold whom
yours truly acquired his
mental health predilection
predisposed toward gloom
mindset swirls with nihilistic doom.
Psychological angst chafes and doth abrade
existential crisis rooted psyche with ankh ring
travesty, mockery, and entropy cast charade
circumspection immediately
brings to forefront
of consciousness positive (necessary)
risk taking I did evade
exemplified by failing nearly every grade
inferiority complex insinuated and did invade
mucking up healthy livingsocial buzzfeeding,
when too many cooks spoil the broth,
hence being superfluous kitchenaid,
hence as schnorrer I masquerade.