Long Neglect Poems
Long Neglect Poems. Below are the most popular long Neglect by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Neglect poems by poem length and keyword.
honestly have I ever told you the conscientious truth
I do not mind what you do think feel project and portray
that I still care but you’re not the source of my fortune
the prison cage of your abuse neglect venom and hatred
has squeezed open my liberation independence and joy
for when all was said and done I took my own flight
soak up happiness passion and compassion where it resides
free at the point of delivery and sharing of proper kindness
because life is too short and precious for anger and pain
truthfulness can hurt and does not lead to redemption yet
forgiving and not forgetting is a human value to hold dear
I am grateful and wish you well on your own lonely journey
09th November 2020
I used to have a smile when I was a youth wider than the cloud I used to shine with my mouth brilliantly now an adulthood my latter years through neglect in my speech the negativity filter down from the top of my head to the sole of my feet but I'm glad now because I have a blonde smile oh I'm so ever glad how because I have a bronze smile and as my bronze brown eyes stare they look at you and smile I am God's child
~
All I insist I can't resist my lips are too swollen fat the muscle won't release showing LeBron smile yet I'm here ever proud so glad that I am who I am and whose I am and then all of this color Bliss I am a vocal a child of his a fervent Witness and I declare as I stare as I look at your vessel I have no question we all are all special for the eyes of the father he acknowledges my bronze smile
~
Everest arms and hands caress me invisibly as I stand when I asleep I labor sweet dreams he gives me instructions as I sleep compassionately I smile in my spirit my soul size and that's my heartbeat I'm so in deep sleep my spirit smiles worth more than gold ever so bold yes I am told I am beholding as I crack my lips radiance you see my bronze smile...
12/2/23
Written by James Edward Lee Sr 2023
My non-communication
and dissonant
dysfunctional miscommunication,
and occasionally aggressive
challenging win/lose dogmatic
refusal to bother with communication,
These all degeneratively punish
and unpleasantly neglect
open systemic civility
With marginalizing effects
further reinforcing
disempowered
and unenlightened
trauma-avoiding behaviors
Toxic for those most wounded
and disabled
by LeftBrain dominant
monotheistic divine omnipotence
v hedonistic human non-verbal
non-violent impotence
A non-communion corporate spirit
of LeftBrain individual is supreme
divisive worldview
harboring "gifted" classrooms
and partisan parties
and elitist societies
for StraightWhite
anthro-hierarchical evolutionary power
to suppress RightBrain
healthy multicultural Trust
wealthy with indigenous
natural/spiritual Beauty.
Resonant resilient communication
strings of thriving v merely surviving
history may invite a long operatic organic epic
but does not necessarily suppress communion
of non-verbal healthy-wealth intuitions,
does not repress
felt polysensory-neural healthcare
community
Passionate gratitude
positive attitude
inspired by sacred place
of generous natural Trust
meets secular incorporated time
to co-invest in ubiquitous spiritual Beauty
Communicating mindful thanks
humble joy
reminds me
my "disability" labels
lie uncomfortably close
to dis-enabling resonant integrity's
deepest sacred potential,
resilient love communication
in multicultural experiences
of abundant
serene win/win
resonant communion
Wide passions
of co-empathic gratitude
for each day of Truth thought
is also Beauty felt
growing in multi-sensory resonance
neuro-systemic health-is-rich-wealth
polyculturing resilient communications
Prevailing over non-communication
and dissonant
disempowering miscommunication,
and occasionally aggressive
challenging oppositionally defiant
unenlightened refusal to bother
communicating sacred
space expanding
compassionate co-passions.
Fools Call
The wine of life is dry when tasted, drink not a filled cup without knowing it's never sweet, expect that you will be drunk and the taste will entice you, known its odor will surly blind u drunkenness also comes from denying yourself freedom. know that life's journey has many travelers wanting to fill full their quest, let their road not erase your path and be left on a road not of your desire give him who thirst wine and give him who morns stong wine says our master, not to be a fool to abuse the medication from the mind but to enjoy it's fruits for the relaxation of the mind and body so chose your road o travelers and be assured of peacefully dreams without the sorrowful tears of yeaster years but look at dreams of children given as a gift and yours too mold groom for the world to walk with head up held and yours too be accountable for
My future happiness depended upon school,
They’re understanding of religious older parents,
Them constraining them with supervision,
So that I could have autonomy in my garments.
I mean, my parents let me wear what I liked,
But were unspeakably forceful poignantly,
Regarding who was going to dress and shower me:
Women, not men who could interact with me perfectly.
I wasn’t asking for all male carers,
Just one or two out of maybe five,
And I even offered to employ male nurses,
Rather than just anybody alive.
But my mum was disgusted at my suggestion,
Said it turned her stomach and made her ill,
Posited that I was not in my right mind,
Said that I made her queasy and gave her a chill.
The school’s social services seemed traditional,
Just like their toilet facilities, old and outdated;
The social worker had white, permed curly hair,
And so for parent disputes you could be slated.
So I never got the help I required and needed,
For my first care package at Glasgow University,
So I suffered from rejection, shortness and selfishness,
From my carers who were supposed to offer identity.
The wardens made it better for me every day,
Reprimanded them for disrespect and impoliteness,
But I never even imagined that voluntary carers,
Could suffice for my own future astuteness.
It upset my whole life, the schools neglect and indifference,
When I think that living success could have been sorted out,
My personal dignity and freedom could have been secured,
With a bit of determination and secular, atheistic liberal clout.
School is really just about your future,
It claims it by its very definition,
And the whole child should be taken and loved,
Not just his or her abilities with cognition.
Who we are begins at birth,
Our DNA a start,
But every soul upon the earth
From others stands apart.
Our personalities are there
From when we take a breath,
Remaining with us everywhere
'Til we succumb to death.
The quiet, shy, rambunctious, rude,
The introvert, the prankster,
The one who has an attitude,
The serious, the gangster...
Show early glimpses to the world
Of who they are inside
And as the years become unfurled,
Such truths they cannot hide.
Though nurture has its own effect,
Experience as well,
Not coddling or, worse, neglect,
Can break that magic spell.
Genetics and the dash of luck,
Or lack of it, we've got
Create the traits with which we're stuck,
Both liking them or not.
A pleasurable fun
The mighty fairy men
That rest on their misfortune fames
And boast of their powerful names
Seeking greatness all ways
Making out through the trough
Unrelenting spirit standing all days
Perfect description of the field falloff
Going beyond ones apparition
Assays for the end
Goes beyond what words can amend
Eating up via pump to fake the love for ammunition
The same book that we had last neglect
The same world we learn was a dream
While we are still in love to deflect
Forgetting our way to the darling home
Shadow is a fear on its own
It leaves in time of distress
To see your endless joy born
The best ever siege redress
Leaving and coming
A mark of change
While you wait almost hoping
The faded change impinge
It stood on the top of the hill
dominating all of its surrounds.
Its drawbridge these days lay open
spanning with ease the now dry moat.
Like a fairy tale fortress it had turrets
that soared up high brushing the clouds.
Its four towers majestic as blankly,
they stared, covering all points of the compass.
Slit windows peered out of casements
through walls up to six feet thick.
The massive double oak doors
fifteen feet high and twelve wide
stood thrown open allowing glimpses
of the enormous courtyard beyond.
Battlements led to each round tower
that once housed the nobles.
Old battered forgotten furniture
grandly carved four poster beds.
A sword or two lay scattered
amidst the clutter and bird dropping.
Wide stone staircases meandered
curling round and round the walls.
A gallery or two dotted here and there
perfect hiding places above the hall.
Some for musicians to play unseen
Their notes floating through the air
as below the dancers swept and strutted
as the ladies hooped dresses swirled.
Long tables once laden with food
stood a skiff with broken legs.
Wooden pint tankards higgledy piggledy
strewn about midst wooden platters.
Tattered standards limply lay motionless
against walls dotted with scattered torches.
The Lord of these lands killed in distant lands
leaving an infant son removed to the city
by his grieving mother who sought to forget.
Now ninety years later his grandson views
the devastation of years of neglect and vows
to return the castle to the glory of its heydays.
After three long years of often brutal work
removing shrubbery, moss and decay
Life starts to re-emerge Flags flutter
gaily high up on the battlements.
Chandeliers sparkle and the torches flicker
Tables once more groan with a feast of food
Happy shrieks of laughter fill the grand hall
And one would swear the castle wore a smile,
as children played around the buttress's.
If only we had kept respect
for higher things and higher being
when nature and the cosmic force
were deeply rooted in our mind.
But all of this we did reject.
If only we had kept respect
and taken not the earth by force
in gaining more material wealth
to pump-up our synthetic pride.
But human greed had its impact.
If only we had kept respect
and accepted our place on earth
in harmony with other life
through give-and-take to keep balance.
But none of this did we protect.
If only we had kept respect
consuming only for our need
not plundering for selfish gain
then all species would have fair chance.
But such restraint we did neglect.
If only we had kept respect.
But we did not. Our world we wrecked.
The Purple Pumpkin
Waiting for the white paper
which underlies this writing
to loose a flow of words
finding Peace
in the facing-off:
a pumpkin and a purple cushion..
Henry David Thoreau chose
to sit on a solitary pumpkin
not a crowded purple cushion..
Many we know might charge him
with most slothful neglect..
Our venerable teachers
have exhorted us to
lift up the purple
with their assumption:
what is real is purple..
Yet we..startled by experience
find that very often
purple is pain..
We long to sit on that pumpkin
long since overgrown
with dead purple vines..
At last in our longing
the pumpkin may speak
of what lies in hiding
.. 'til just now..
with Peace emerging
the Pumpkin is Purple...
"I would rather sit on a pumpkin,
and have it all to myself, than be
crowded on a velvet cushion."
--Henry David Thoreau