Long Muzzle Poems
Long Muzzle Poems. Below are the most popular long Muzzle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Muzzle poems by poem length and keyword.
Will the pieces of the life you’ve lived
come together at the end?
Will the times that you reflected
straighten your path out, free of bends?
Are the places that you visited
more than way stops that you chose?
Are the feelings that you left with
still inside you—heaven knows?
Are your children still in contact,
do they ask you what you think?
Are your parents long forgotten
as you pour yourself a drink?
Are the days recounted backwards
with the best all left behind?
Does the silence serve to haunt you
with those things you cannot find?
Does the laughter fall on deafness,
do the smiles pass you by?
Are your friends left off your guest list
with no time for them to find?
Are the pieces of your puzzle
pointed sharp, and ill to fit?
Does your conscience wear a muzzle
with the blame an endless pit?
Is it what you said you wanted
when you started down this path?
Or are you now among the hunted
in a bad choice aftermath?
If before you’re gone, one chance flew by
a difference then to make
Would you hang on tight to all the lies,
or embrace this change of fate?
And if you do, the words will say,
you almost got it wrong…
Before you called those choices back
—and changed them into song
(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)
It was an ordinary funeral,
nothing striking—except the strange restraint of the living.
The coffin, made of somber wood, bore an inscription,
succinct, sincere, almost brutal:
In this world, no one takes anything away.
And just below,
like the advice of an old master to his absent-minded disciple:
Be humble, and thank even your enemies.
Take pleasure, as much as you can, in your passage.
I stood there,
mute, wordless,
my heart suspended at the edge of the abyss,
and I reflected.
On those days we treat as possessions,
as if time obeyed our will.
On those objects we hoard—
when we fear we might mean nothing.
On those grudges we nurture
like cherished treasures.
On that “tomorrow” we distrust,
on the tenderness we muzzle,
on the forgiveness we ration
as if it were scarce currency.
On the life we neglect
in the name of a later no clause has ever guaranteed.
But the hour comes—inevitably—
when all is left behind.
What we thought we owned fades into shadow.
What we managed to give might endure.
A hand extended.
A gentle memory lodged in another’s mind.
Life is not measured by rewards.
It is felt in the trace of sincere impulses.
So live with integrity, with heart.
Love without contract or condition.
Laugh even if the order of the world wavers.
Weep if your soul overflows with pain.
Forgive without expecting anything in return.
And above all,
do not postpone
what, today,
might make life vibrate.
For that evening will come
when the dawn no longer breaks.
And on that day,
no one—
I say it plain—
takes anything away.
My tech of nology is some what limited
Even when I try to get things printed
But to transfer pictures is testing me
Failed to connect keeps harrassing me
Tech of nology is a crazy puzzle
Has tied my mind into its muzzle
To think of a plan of what that might be
I decide to make a nice cup of tea
But impatient am I or a fool I may be
I begin to embark my challenging journey
The memory card will not work
And bluetooth is making me feel like a berk
Do I confess and give up now?
Or carry on with my prowl?
I take a deep breath and count to ten
I will win this and transfer them
I remove the card to check it's ok
Then put it back in, but the wrong way
So here I am with this new struggle
Stuck it is, oh I'm in a muddle
A needle, a toothpick I did apply
The tweezers I know, I will give them a try
My choices of tools I was desperate you see
To win back my card my phone kept from me
As I pulled and tugged as hard as can be
It shoots straight out into my cup of cold tea
Fingers dives in and fumbles around
To my relief the card quickly found
A blow on the card and a gentle shake
Come on card give me a break
Placed on towel paper to dry
A warm blow from the hairdryer next I try
More thoughtful this time I insert the card
But no it's still just a bit to hard
I cuss at myself for being so silly
Win I will, I'm a determined Milly
Finally inserted I am ready to go
I press the buttons but alas it's a no
No pictures was found they are lost in the sea
By the mug of my cold cup of tea
He spins around and faces me, his legs plant down just right.
No longer will he run from me, he’s fixing for a fight
He reaches down and so do I, I grab my trusted Glock
I raise it to his chest real quick, I swear the clock had stopped.
My finger finds the trigger, slowly I begin to squeeze
And as I reach the no return, he screams just shoot me please
Those words I never heard at all, so focused on my aim
Fight or flight in full effect, auditory exclusion was to blame
But as he screamed in silence, his arms shot up above his head
My finger too now on the guard, so close to throwing lead
Resting on the chain link fence, I know my aim is true
You used a gun to rob those folks, so we have come for you
In the darkness he kept reaching, and as he did, I squeezed
The still within the chaos, not sure if I had breathed
Every time his arms went up, my finger fell away
The last thing that I wanted, was to take a life that day
He gave up, we got the gun, and no one else was hurt
That day was way too close, to putting someone in the dirt
I knew he had a gun, from the marks the victims let me see
So many times, I pulled it back, I counted at least three
I waited for a muzzle flash, because I needed to just know
It would have been too late by then, but that’s how hindsight goes
I had to be completely sure, before the bullet was sent on track
Choices like that once they’re made, you cannot take them back
The waiting could have killed me, or maybe my partner too
You don’t know that choices weight and I pray you never do.
History will judge me I'm finally told,
when greatness will be mine to behold;
this naked truth has always reflected my intent...
nobody has ever been able to muzzle any sentiment.
Negative criticism can't eat away my spontaneous creativity,
and diminish this inwardly intricacy;
and if irascibility seems irrepressible...
no irony is found in relevant words that are totally irrefutable.
History will judge me for my free will,
examining my morals and authenticity,
and by its own standard, acclaim me as they will...
even for my fluent and expressive verses of sincerity.
Belying is not the mendacious creed I profess,
intolerant of inequality, inflamed by fairness...
expelling deeds of duplicity that impinge on truthfulness;
and the imbecile, like the scoundrel, still practices insolence.
History will judge me for my temperament: sad, jaunty,
jolly, jocose, comical, querulous, lonesome and moody;
and should it immortalize me among its chosen literati...
this honor I will accept with acclamation and dignity.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
,
There are no more shackles and no more chains
The muzzle is gone, like Trump’s derailed train
Naptime is over, and this bulldog is up
When will you learn to behave, you silly pup
If you keep poking the dog, he will take a bite
You should be aware he’s not afraid to fight
This growling dog is not your average hound
He patrols day and night, guarding this ground
And doesn’t care if the so-called law was sent
His opinions, like yours, are fetid excrement
I think you two make quite a querulous pair
You both stir the soup pot and blow hot air
You’re not great poets, I’ve seen your best
If you mess with the bull… you know the rest.
Voices from another galaxy
drop hints about this blissful daydream dwelling I’m
obsessed with.
They douse the strident yelping from an unrestrained stray pup in my neighbourhood,
when it breaks clear of its tan leather muzzle with a consummate fiendish elan.
This happens when I stroll with abandon round a limp pale green grass lawn,
the type whose rabid cry for spumes of hydrant benefice is cruelly silenced.
Hedgerow choral bird chirps goad supple feats of trailing mental reverie for a wander lust psyche.
They grant behemoth powers, nether world cachet to float invisibly beneath rust sodden eaves,
a torch felt tar macadam chimney sneak peak when belching smokeless coal.
Cherry blossom panel tree house vision,
a tie cable mesh on creaky branch is quite the place,
refuge from an ancient era moss clad node awaiting blue jay flap.
To some this sturdy shoe box cartoon template reeks of animation stuck with maple syrup.
Mere desperado flight beyond an ice rink winter twilight in Ontario,
the makeshift skinflint bramble fire that barely thawed a frozen
infant trauma.
Childhood shriek and shiver may arouse inchoate recall of artic reindeer chariot adventure.
Mourning cloak butterfly aplomb, wing blown flit to deep freeze hibernation.
But alas this starstruck drifter seldom roams despite a far too frequent fictional encounter with earthbound migrant status.
Wait until there are no voices,
everyone’s tongue has been cut out;
Arguments can be constructive,
really there’s nothing left to say;
Eliminating dialog we forget how
muscles need a bit of exercise;
Understand this and ignore
zillions of false narratives;
Zoom is NOT an in person connection;
Let a person speak then respond;
Instead of throwing a mask on discourse,
nibble on each other’s thoughts;
Getting a little too close for comfort
eventually leads to better understanding;
Attacks breed a deafening silence
cut off with an air tight muzzle.
How are we doing this to each other?
Our expectations should be high
to get to the root of our issues;
How are we doing this to each other?
Entertaining choosing sides to be sure,
remove the muzzle speak open and free.
Inspired By Dr Phil
‘We are muzzling each other. ‘
Gallimaufry of linkedin words appeal,
(particularly spoken by renown orator)
'cept when unnamed poetaster afflicted
with chatterbox syndrome,
nonetheless deliberate effected
muzzle restraint imposed
suppressing groundswell analogous
to swollen dam bursting at seams
tongue kickstarts controlled regulator
tripping baffling babbling brook,
sans (cheesy) mouth trap
conscious effort required
maintaining exhausting mental vigilance
attention oriented toward "active listening"
chiming into conversation
when casually addressed
quasi Uber tracking,
sustaining, rendering...
pondering dialogue deliberating,
mustering, aiming, firing...
apropos response adhering
to utmost strictures de rigor,
versus loosing (in the sky)
scattershot poppycock
offbase blatherskite, asper
topic under discussion
synchronicity satisfies peculiar
personal logical paradigm,
despite senseless compulsive predilection
condemning premature ejaculation
plus crosstalk as penultimate transgression
pertaining to papa blurting
asynchronous interjection
consigning tight lipped penance
penile solitude condoned
should predicated persistent plague
prevail attributing penuriousness
lame excuse pardoning yours truly
remote possibility, threatening
spurious spontaneous splendiferous
albeit ill timed unspeakable retort
with hot sealing wax - most wicked
verbal utterance arrogantly
perforating, piercing, protruding,
puckering... two lips
escaping out mouth
more rapid than witnessing
the quick brown fox
jumps over the lazy dog.
Suffocation experienced analogous
to absent echocardiogram
or electroencephalogram blip
(Derek Chauvin - he of
George Floyd infamy) iron maiden grip
linkedin with psyche subjected
to laceration courtesy cruel horse whip
mine inexcusable
(albeit clueless faux pas)
family members living social in Bend, Oregon
and Oakland, California did yip
private information across cyberspace did zip.
Apology (ex post facto)
extended regarding about
mine guilt ridden conscience
programming mental state
think sufferable infinite
jesting Möbius strip
casting dark shadow of doubt
looping along outer limits
of twilight zone
futilely shucking off
emotional tailspin (kamikaze) fallout
impossible mission
unable to muzzle or thwart lout
who poetically blurts out
simian old routine programmed
erroneously heavily incorrectly
peppers entire Hollerith
or IBM punched cards
yielding botched defenseless redoubt,
when Yankee doodles dandy
teapot short and stout
convection currents trigger
whistle Dixie when liquid piping hot
a microcosm concerning plate tectonics
across webbed wide world
yielding necessary oomph
to migrating trout.
Absent awareness
flourished amidst ignorance
sixty plus shades of gray matter
hotly doth smolder and burn
unbeknownst rancor did furiously churn
when yours truly divulged
he made aborted attempt
to couch his genuine
paternal care and concern
lack of discrimination
and judgment I did not
(honest to dog) recognize nor discern.
Understandable blameworthy
grievance against me,
not granted app parent permission
thus culpability I obediently yield
words that sparked hurt
now utilized to wield
heft to communicate authentic love
(cryptically coded)
and hermetically sealed
hopefully in due time
mine discretion well healed.