Long Lungs Poems
Long Lungs Poems. Below are the most popular long Lungs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lungs poems by poem length and keyword.
The sound of your voice interrupts my thoughts
glancing up to see your smiling face
a smile not meant for me but the person you think I am
the person who can smile and laugh
the person that made you fall in love
my recent past bleeding through my vulnerable state
seeing it written on my face and wanting to help
nothing for you to do
you sit and watch that same smile on your face
haunting me with every turn trying to pull me back
only to push me away into the darkness that calls to me
dragging me down into the ragging waters
filling my lungs choking on everything I remember
only your smiling face reminding me that I cannot smile
that I will never be happy again
Smooth the day,
seize that curled and tousled head
grease its creased and mottled entrance
come all wailing to a waiting world,
slide from the arms of midwife night
attempt to keep the light
as round and full as well remembered,
bend each hunkered cornered shadow
pull it hook and line
pierce the fish flesh bone
stretched and knotted twine about your fingers
skewer any little patch of dark that lingers on
heavy in that morning scented room,
fling the curtained windows wide
cast that latch aside and breathe,
fill your foggy winter lungs with spring
embrace the gasp and grab yourself
a newly minted season
bursting fresh with sweet unsullied air
this is not a moment,
it’s a revelation
just for you
and one you might not want to share
If time had eyes,
They'd be blue.
If time had lips,
They'd say: "I love you".
If time had arms,
They would embrace.
If time had legs,
They'd, surely, race.
If time had lungs,
They'd breath fresh air.
If time had ears,
There would be a pair.
If time were a person,
She would be a girl.
If time were a person,
She'd wear pearls.
If time were to love,
She'd love her mate.
If She were to love,
She would have a first date.
If She were to look,
She'd find the one.
If She were to wait,
She'd still be fun.
But time is not a person,
With no arms or legs.
Time is not a person,
She neither pleads nor begs.
Time is not a person,
No heart with which to love.
Time is not a person,
No essence from up above.
Time is Time and time again.
Time can come from where you begin.
Time is Time where time may start.
Time will heal your broken heart.
Life way back then when i was ten,
From wartime days, to peace again.
Few luxuries on ration books,
Not even scraps for feeding ducks.
But more important than our wealth,
To tend our needs the National Health.
As smoking chimneys mixed with fog,
Our lungs were filled with filthy smog.
Always hard up, no cash to spend,
My mum would say, make do and mend.
Bows and arrows, were once scrap wood,
We all took turns being Robin Hood.
Old pram wheels and packing cases,
Now soap box cars, for thrilling races.
In summertime, games in the park,
Promised my mum, home before dark.
Some orange juice with jam and bread,
Those poor little ducks, never got fed.
On sunny days we had picnics,
Saturdays our treat to watch the flicks.
In windy weather, flying our kites.
Our streets at night, lit by gaslights,
We raced pell-mell down helter skelters.
On top of disused air raid shelters.
Chumping wood for the Guy Fawkes fire,
Sundays, i sang descant, in the choir.
Wintertime rugby, for the school team,
Lots of energy, we let off steam.
Exam results were a big surprise,
Top of the class, winning first prize.
The magic he creates. God is awake. The universe itself. Stardust gel. As it all connects. Like bare trees our lungs under inspection mimic the breeze. Fresh air as we all stare into the stardust we are. alive and free. The universal decree. But now we bleed. Bleed the seeds sewn of hate our father’s have known. We loop around the sun. We loop around history until mankind is done. I just wish we could all see the stardust has gone insane. This plane of reality is shady and a game. To those who run the show. But we can find love and life through the deepest blows. For we are tested as a world. Battling the feeling of being hurled. Into another’s thoughts and beliefs of how it should be. I think if we were intelligent we could smile with glee and just stop. Stopping the bloodshed is a must. For our brothers of stardust. The women and children scared . Unfortunately war is not rare when violent men act like they care. What a lie when sons and daughters are sent to die. When in reality were confused by our eyes. From what we see. I just hope the loop ends before our bodies are sent free to whatever end the stardust destines to be. This right now is mankind’s song. There is no victory to serenade. Only young men willing to throw grenades. If only we seen ourselves as stardust instead of flags.
When we kill a tree
Does a forest sigh
Rustle with grief that
One of them should die.
Is there apprehension,
Do the trees even hear,
The clinking clanking sound
As the felling gang draws near.
The real flowers of the world,
The lungs of the Earth,
Helping cleanse the air from
the moment of their birth.
Their beauty being replaced
By a much lesser scene
As we uproot the trees
To plant Soya bean.
Do the trees around the world
Hear the grieving crying
From swathes of woodland as
They sense their colleagues dying.
Will there be a memorial service
When they've killed the last tree
Will they follow into extinction
The last wild bee.
When the Earth is levelled
And sterile and neat
Under chamfered layers
Of reinforced concrete
And the air gets heavy
With every breath a chore
Each one less satisfying than
The one just gone before
Will we regret we didn't listen
To the almost silent pleas
That rustled through the branches
Carried by the last gentle breeze.
Will a silent protester
Surreptitiously sow
Handfuls of acorns to watch
New Oak saplings grow.
The Gigantic Powerful,
The Omni-mighty,
The Omni-present
Covid-19 has come
can kill anytime anyone
infecting the lungs
Oh! Shut the mouth!
Take a mask!
Don't speak anymore!
Otherwise, the virus will infiltrate into your throat and……..!
Oh! Now take home quarantine
Spend an isolated life!
Live in self-distancing!
Don't think more about imperialist cool war!
Go to die! Go silently to die
believing this virus from God as Curse for SINNER!
Think and believe every epidemic as a curse from God!
Be devout to His mercy and almighty;
Pray to Him making self-distancing;
For COVID-19 do not be lost patience on Him
Though live now abide by the laws of WHO team
Do not be closed to the dead body of COVID-19
Do not show any sympathy
Oh! Humanism!
Now you are in realistic dumb cold-blooded life!
In the reign of Covid-19
Peoples and the unseen enemy
Abstract war in panic
Running away from the pandemic
Some become winners stilling in fear
and some are caged in death
The year 2020 is composing an unruffled elegy
-March-2020 Chattogram
~
I feel it again...
It's the pain that engulfs
and keeps all my daydreams
asleep on the shelf
I had shaken it off
with the rise of the sun
but it comes back, again
to the dark, where it's from
The grief that will come
in the thick of the night,
constricts all the air
right out of my lungs.
It creeps up the stairs
where the corners are bare
and fills them with ghosts
of a yesterday, gone
I hear the old weeping
and the sounds of goodbye
that comes while I'm sleeping,
and leaves me to cry
I feel the same dread
at the foot of my bed
And grief lingers with me
until a sun rises red
__________________________________
Inspired by the contest: "
The Pain In The Night"
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
3/8/15
I strained and stressed over
what was assigned to me
she told me as if she was
doing an interview.
She felt honored that thoses
who were responsible for
production
saw her genius and offered her
the opportunity to create.
Not in the manner one would
expect since she was chosen to
create a formula that would be'
used to feed cattle and horses.
She said she thought that it
would be the same formula.
No,no,no! mind you: cattle
are ruminants and horses
are hindgut fermenters you
must formulate separate recipes
to accommodate there digestive
differences. Starting off I started with
salt and molasses and vegetable oil as fats
and binding adhesive. I was lucky
to come across a large
amount of cornmeal, we got it from a store
that was only gonna throw it out.
We were gonna use it to help bring nutrients
to a sandy lot, but
we decided to use it in our range cubes instead.
Do not use monensin or urea in cubes for horses
it can be toxic. Urea and monensin is
can be safe for both llamas and sheep, but it
carries a high risk of fatal toxicity if managed
incorrectly. It is used strictly as a non-protein
nitrogen (NPN) supplement to help mature
animals digest low-quality, high-fiber forage
That's were the formulas differ.because llamas
(camelids) and sheep (ruminants) have distinct
digestive sensitivities, special precautions must
be taken if they are housed together.
Afalfa,Wheat middlings,grain by-products,
plant proteins like cottonseed or
soybean meal, roughage, and molasses
Used along side sudan grass to help get through
the winter!
From; the Book "Alfalfa Desperado" by
"Dingle" Barry Frank" the turnip guy"
-----------------------------------------
airin out the lungs cause this Agee, Ajee
took two peices away from my dozen.
thats why we in here fussin
that jerk got me cussin'
I s t r e t c h my arms,
caressing collapsed dreams,
l o s t
within the
debris of darkness,
rising from the
volcanic vortex,
drifting with scorching fragments
resembling a love turned to ashes,
from scarred skin and flames.
For I am the constructor of my own chaos~
singing Lilith lullabies
in this cold confinement~
poisoning vermilion
valleys with vicious vines,
watered with kohl tears,
as these lungs inhale toxic rain,
drowning in the demise
of primrose promises,
while pain bleeds
doleful drafts,
and empty pleas
paralyzed within pages of turmoil,
unable to break free from
the
sinister sequence
of the synthetic sun.
Yet I paint
a landscape
thriving with ill-omened orchids,
oblivious to the shimmering gold
dusted above
the black-magic boulevard…
O mystical faeries
must I forever be
a victim of midnight tremors?
Am I to remain
c h a i n e d
with diamond-glazed knots,
in the macabre chambers
where desolated phantoms stroll?
Perhaps it is written in the sands,
with cryptic strands
of sweltering grains~
I am the cacophony,
draped in infected illusions,
basking in hues of hallucinations,
surrendering to the hypnotic sounds
of satanic springs,
drinking from chalices
filled with pomegranate lies,
from the shadowed spirit
of Persephone on Hades’ throne,
engraved with splinters
from inescapable fate,
scripted with somber i n k ...
Somewhere between
veiled visions,
incensed with vanilla,
and the untold sagas
of a crestfallen lunar,
you'll taste
the aromas of alchemy
I've conjured~
shifting like zestful light,
of neon auroras,
deceiving the deceitful
with their distorted colors...
I am K a r m a ~
clothed in sequined starlight,
scattering lessons of life
upon nefarious sighs.