Long Medicinal Poems
Long Medicinal Poems. Below are the most popular long Medicinal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Medicinal poems by poem length and keyword.
Festered lament maddens me
Why must the despair of my heart’s desire
Truly enlighten me?
I rested among the sick and lame
And found myself no different from the rest
For a troubled mind holds endless poverty
Penniless regret marks as a sickness no doctor can prescribe
For the bottles of balm are empty
And medicinal hope grows angry
I derived my madness from creativity
Revealing the remains of my humanity
‘Cool off, child’, I heard a soft voice whisper
But can’t you see I live off the flame?
It asks for no nickel or dime!
But it seeks to destroy all the same
The small voice returns at times
And often my heart listens
But we all listen
And only believe in the inevitability of pain
I speak of the majority
Not of you
For you are blessed and beyond disgrace
You have a life—a beautiful face
And most of all, you are rich
With attributes I can only dream of
You are rich with life and purpose
Holding inscrutabilities I can only wish to understand
You lift me without touch or care
Disposing me from your treasures
Because though you meant no harm,
You are rich with blessing
And must remove all possible threats
So my festered lament
Remains an enlightenment
I can say I am rich in poverty
But you are forever rich
In Mystery
What hurts the most is knowing
I may be wrong about you
For you are so obscure in this mind
And as empty as I am I wish to be filled
In your richness
But we all are filled to the brim in the end
And sometimes I cannot distinguish the good from the bad
There is nothing I wish to discard
So I hoard in constant deficiency and despair
And I hoard the idea that you are beyond compare
That you are rich
And always will be richer
Than me—or he
Poetry’s sacred…
prose not so much
One to be read
the other to touch
The verse spoken freely
in a nighttime array
Phrases eternal
to outlive the day
The medicinal magic
that hides in each line
Lifts my body to flight
in a nocturnal climb
The prose gets pounded
and pounded again
And its linear sense
I find hard to befriend
As twilight appears
from the corner of my eye
Each couplet on fire,
and I look to the sky
With my very last breath
not taken in vain
It’s with meter and rhyme
—I call to heaven again
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
‘From The Book Of Prayers’
taking a walk alone
at home i leave my phone
my purpose will not be defeated
my opinion in many minds have been deleted
so many things here for years i have missed
taking a walk alone and unplugged is what i insist
this is just my new journey in life
it is as rare as the thought of me with a wife
the views are so amazing to the visual touch
my choice to focus on electronic views caused me to miss quite much
the beauty of life nowadays is unknowingly ignored
my whole self has become so stagnant and lead me to become bored
the sound of the air and the feel of a breeze
is so unfimiliar to me that it knocks me to my knees
i will continue to take walks like these or just simply sit
all devices will be left to 'sleep' as i retake everything all in and recommit
It is summer,
and the umbrella men
are selling hotdogs.
A good-looking priest
enters Saint Pat's,
gangly young ladies giggle,
make the sign of the cross.
Thursday is AllYouCanEat pizza day
the joint will be too crowded, too poky,
the pizza rushed out, slapped and pasted.
Office workers, those that take medicinal weed,
come flocking from the second floors
of nowhere,
shoulder to shoulder,
they huddle to spread
petty scandals and rumors,
then return to stare at desktop computer games.
**** is the privilege of the underachievers.
Downtown is slip-sliding,
it used to be a place to be noticed,
a sex-gated area for outdoor passions.
Now the females
hold the hem of their skirts down,
and not because of the wind.
Dope is in the air.
Thieves scrabble and push,
dazed by the easy abundance.
Tourists duck and shelter
under dead teachers' desktops.
Come December,
the glass ball will hang by a thin fingertip.
There's this little fuzzy wuzzy bunny,
Who all year round eats loads of honey.
Now you’d expect his tummy to be runny
This fuzzy wuzzy little bunny
However, the honey has an adverse effect
And when I tell you, you will not like it I expect
The poor sod suffers from severe constipation
Until he feels a bowel movement sensation
He seeks a discrete place to release
The load that make him look obese
His baked in for a year in his tummy
The poor fuzzy wuzzy little bunny
With his hind legs astride, bunny squats just a bit
Knowing the pain he has to suffer when it's time to have a sh-t
First, come out as little pebbles then follow the great big boulders
The kind that gives him the feeling his been split from his a-se to his shoulders
He chews grass as a medicinal lozenge
To numb his a-se that now looks like a blood orange
Fuzzy wuzzy little bunny knows it all over when he lets out a great big fart
Then picks up his mess discretely and hides it in isle 14 at Kwik Mart.
The pedestrian kettle steams on to the Capitol pyre
With a weight watcher tonic; more lean legislators to sire
The Grand Old Party a taste of the aromatic brew doth require
Medicinal tonic blended to alleviate bloating gout of every Democratic squire
Preferring their watered-down, generic brand, constipated digestive tracts go haywire
The savy financiers sit on the sidelines in their cozy markets ignoring the taste test flier
The partisan grit clogs the filter producing a quagmire
The vitriolic ingredients boil over causing a rancid fire
The billowing smoke rises and streams to the patrician choir
The generic master brewer in his white house stews in the demagogic mire
Commercial winds sweep in fanning the flames causing the heat to reach dome's spire
The regurgitated grounds spewed forth to every intoxicated shire
Democratic gainsayers scare the elderly that the side effects are so dire
The rest of the squeamish plebians in their depleted hovels continue to sip their Common Roast with ire
without you, i have no adventure
you are the main sight i see
moving many mountains via the strength of your inspiration
you cover me with the medicinal mainstay of your assurance
without you, i have no knowledge of a new experience
you are the driving force behind all newly discovered art
you cover me with the medicinal mainstay of your assurance
without you, i have no clue of what the flowing waters feel like
you are the tide that pulls me into the ocean's beautiful purpose
you cover me with the medicinal mainstay of your assurance
without you, i have no definitive depth connecting my nomenclature
you are the con accento of every letter that identifies me
you cover me with the medicinal mainstay of your assurance
because of you, deepened even more for me is my firm belief in the Existence of God
Like all my siblings, I dropped from my mother's crown, oh, about twenty years ago now
Fortunately, though a tough nut to crack, I eventually poked my green head up out of the ground
Turns out that I'm a tree, an Eastern Black Walnut to be exact, or Juglans nigra to be super exact
Now, nearly thirty feet tall, I can feel I've slowed down in growth some, normal for us black walnuts
If I keep my roots, and that pesky walnut caterpillar doesn't find me, I should double my height
My leaves are busy factories turning sunlight, water, and carbon dioxide into life sustaining oxygen
You humans love the pungent taste of my healthy fruit and use it in a slew of your culinary delights
They tell me studies show that the antioxidants I host are beneficial for human medicinal purposes
That chocolate wood I lumber around is top notch for constructing beautiful, long lasting furniture
So whatever our destiny may be, dresser, medicine, or tree, us black walnuts will always stand tall
4/20/24
The truth not fictional
If you don't get the principle
Then it's not clearly visible
No it was not biblical
Or mythical
Zero to do with being political
Yet they'll treat you like a criminal
Making themselves look cynical
By being analytical
As well as overly critical
It's become whimsical
Is it clinical?
Often typical
For an individual
To think it's unfixable
When it all gets difficult
Acting like life is not livable
The evidence is inadmissable
Since far before this world became digital
The gap is not always bridgeable
Especially with those that are inhospitable
It'll get despicable
By staying sad and miserable
You just may do something unforgivable
Don't think your invincible
By doing something pitiful
Quit taking it all literal
Not everything will be visceral
Can you understand the subliminal
See past the physical
Among all the minerals
While at the peripheral
At first it seems miniscule
But it may backfire with ridicule
How could anything be winnable
By only doing the bare minimal
I just hit the right syllable
I was always smoking something medicinal
Breaking the mold of what is traditional
I can only be myself, I know how original
Still aiming toward the pinnacle
Just can't keep doing the predictable
My love unconditional
Pay attention or it's miss able
I can't afford to be an imbecile
Remain stuck and puzzled by something mystical
Since life can get formidable
The cycle continues on and it's cylindrical
Could almost call it intrinsical
Always out to trick with calls
Scammers want you to click install
Getting sick of y'all
There's no crystal ball
I've no time for whiffle ball
Got to risk it all
Just may slip and fall
Or climb these big obstacles like it's a little wall
Confucius had a garden that was the envy of the land.
His poppies were the bomb and his bud a medicinal strand.
The government would come knocking looking for his secret seeds.
But all they could ever find were just common garden weeds.
Confucius had a plan that would spread joy across the sea.
He would bag these little critters and ship them off to you and me.
For those brave enough to plant and not raise such a fuss.
They would acquire the knowledge and wisdom of the famous Confucius.
When I got my sack of seeds, I began a garden right away.
I gave them water and love and never put them on display.
They grew up big and strong this special garden made me smart.
My life would never be the same and it would never fall apart.
I’m thankful for my seeds and how this world now looks.
Confucius had a garden, but it’s not in any books.