Long Neglected Poems
Long Neglected Poems. Below are the most popular long Neglected by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Neglected poems by poem length and keyword.
I hear things right side down
and bottom left side up
as I get older
so consider the source.
Anyway,
I hear Colchester Connecticut Democrats,
and some cross-registering Republicans,
want to establish
a multicultural health commission
concerned about military
and local police mercenaries
feeling discriminated against,
picked on,
unloved,
left out,
under-valued,
ignored,
neglected,
abused,
shot at.
T Rocko is concerned
such a vast investment
in multicultural respect,
solidarity of resonance,
integrity of long-term resiience
through commitment to public dialogue
rather than contentious debate,
could only be justified
with quantitative data
Adding up how much
anti-militarism
and anti-police brutality prejudice
exists
and costs
in Colchester.
In this political
and economic moment
of social cooperative distancing,
dissociation,
scape-goating,
rabid polarization,
toxic partisanship
We need a baseline,
says he,
of mutual disregard,
to measure regenerative progress
and/or degenerative retrenchment
from community integral investments
in health remediation,
inclusive wealth
for future cooperative governing generations.
"Silence to me
says it exists"
retorts our First SelectWoman
Rudko,
self-appointed sole guardian
of our public health investment purse,
responds,
Supporters of Armed Lives Matter Most
are "making a generalization...
not based on facts"
that silence means discontent,
speaks echo-chamberly
of feeling an unhealthy
lack of mutually fulfilling safety
Too risky
for speaking up transparently
to listen vulnerably
to all cooperative opportunity "Other"
and "Alien"
and "Immigrant"
And silently listening especially
for Not Straight Male Dominant
voices,
whispered narratives
about aggressive predation stories
of relentless win/lose debate
rather than cooperative win/win dialogue
with pro-social attachment,
multiculturally nonsupremacist intelligence.
Renewable Radiance
Streams of clearest light,
Born of a star,
Splash across flaxen maize,
Beckoning tall sunflowers to follow
With their skyward gaze
Dashing through newborn dewdrops
Creating playful shadows
In the bouncing,
dappling,
flashing,
flowing
Golden glow of brilliance in bronze
Making freckles on upturned noses
Or fiery heat on skin neglected
Now captivated by smooth glass faces
In cycles of sunrise and sunset
To find a place in close community
Coming home to rest on rooftops
Turning midnight into morning
Bits of sunspots
Energizing evening
Seeking opportunities
To turn on street lights
Heat a winter night,
Light up empty highway signs
Kitchen lamps in gathering spaces,
Where scents of stews
Float up from simmering pots
Sitting atop daystar fire,
To cool the breath of afternoons
Turning summer heat around in circles
Then ever giving birth to moonlight
Illuminating a garden path
Or candles
Twinkling
In the trees at midnight
Reaching out,
Waiting - standing at attention -
Begging to be used,
But not used up,
Gladly emptied out
Never tiring,
Never holding back
In jealousy,
No matter what the calendar proclaims
Or season promises,
Collected radiance renewable
Renewed
Generating energy
In spinning allegros
Freely given,
Freely breathing,
Inexhaustible,
Joyful
Gift and giver.
The Untold story of a Sitar 1 of 3
.
.
Few days back
I got hold of a strange gift
Of an old and slightly broken antique Sitar
It must be older than
Seven to eight decades
Or maybe it came to see the first light
On Earth
Around a century ago. 01
.
My heart was throbbing and almost jumping
To think and imagine
That I posses something
Of unprecedented beauty and melody
With an untold story
Still breathing
In its heart. 02
.
Thinking that I may get success
In adding again
A replacement of those
Strings and knobs
Which may bring back
All its missing tunes and music
Which the Sitar has lost
With the passing
Of many decades of time
When the Sitar got forlorn and neglected
And gradually
It lost some of its most essential
And dear body parts. 03
.
One day I was watching it minutely
To appreciate
The beauty of this antique Sitar
When I suddenly found
A name ‘Tan’ written
On one of its broken keys
And unknowingly
I began to anticipate
That with the perhaps
With the passing of time
The Sitar would have shifted
From the soft hands
Of its first owner
Whose name was perhaps ‘Tan’. 04
.
And surprisingly
This name ‘Tan’ was still
Faintly visible
Written on one of the broken knob
Of that antique Sitar
Which I happened to posses now. 05
.
I imagined and presumed
That perhaps
It’s unseen owner Tan
May had left that beauty mark
By writing her unique lovely
Name ‘Tan’
Which still appears to be
Singing silently and shining dimly
After many ignored decades
The untold love story of Tan. 06
.
That faintly written name
Appeared to me
As the last impression and effort
Of a beautiful skilled
Musician woman in love
To immortalize her name & musical lore’s
By mildly engraving that name
On one of the knob
Of this beautiful Sitar
Which for me was
No less precious
Then the Grecian Urn
Which was spreading the same
Beauty and stillness
With a difference
That the Sitar was still capable
To reproduce
The vibrations of all those sweet melodies
Which got lost on this unique
Musical instrument of the last century
With the passing and change of time. 07
Ravindra
Kanpur India 13th April 2016
Unwanted by parents, love never shown;
Torn from her siblings and everything known.
Put into a system at the age of three;
hope and rejection, each learned by degree.
Eighteen and alone, told she must now fly;
she wasn't shown how to reach for the sky.
November 8, 2021
Bite Size Poem No. 26 Contest
By Line Gauthier
Honorable Mention
There are approximately 1.5 million children in the U.S. abandoned each year.
Approximately 2,018 are abused or neglected each day. They're torn from siblings, friends, schools, lives, placed into the system, and tossed from family to family.
Beside Every Iridescent Node Grows
Beauty, Eyeing, Instigating, Nodding Gracefully.
Bounty Energizes Inundating Nascent Growth.
Brilliant Emerald Ignites Newborn Grains.
Bathers Each In Nuance Gather.
Beyond Eternity, Infinite Night Gropes.
Beside Emerging Isotopes Nonchalantly Grasping
Bottle-necked Entities In Nature’s Great
Beneficence Engages Ideology's Non-sequitur
Givers.
Bare endings. Idols Neglected Gape.
Basking Ecclesiastic Idiosyncrasies Nascent Glow.
Because Each Idol Names Great
Beauty. Effigies, Itinerant Namesakes, Grin.
Beside Each, I Narcissus' Grow.
being being being being being being being
First Published in Femmewise Cat
Not Just You
It’s not just you, having a bad time
It’s not just you on your backside
It’s not just you, struggling now
It’s not just you, feeling neglected
But only you can change it
Only you can work it out
Only you can control the future
Only you can pull the trigger
It’s not just me who wants you happy
Not just me who wants it to change
Not just me who knows the hurt
Not just me who’s been through this
You have a family who cares about you
You aren’t hiding under a staircase
You aren’t struggling with bills
You aren’t going to be hit by shrapnel
So, look around see what you have
Look around and see what is good
Look around gratefully with thanks
Look around see how others battle
David Cox 11/01/23
The wind whistled a chilly tune,
As the day slipped toward a grey horizon.
Flocks of blackbirds darkened the autumn sky.
The quail's shrill call could be heard in the forests,
As the workers put their plowshares away.
The distinctive odor of burning leaves
Floated in the breeze that struggled to live,
And people could be heard coming in from the fields.
Workers and animals weary from the day of toil,
Eager to find solace in the warmth of home,
Be it a cabin, shack, house, mansion, or stable,
To be fed and bedded was the desire of all.
It seemed that the fall pricked the sense of existence
More than the other seasons of the year.
Prompted answers to questions if all had been done
To weather the blink and dark of winter.
All that could be gathered was in the barns,
And all that had been neglected was stored in regret.
Now winter must be faced with bold resolve,
With a prayer that survival would witness springs new hope.
The farm communities of old have long gone by
Where family and neighbor worked and played together,
Sharing the triumphs and defeats of agrarian struggles,
Working with their hands and wearying their backs,
In an effort to support and advance living off the land.
Through life was slow and perseverance strained,
The genius of that day has been lost to prevailing winds,
Never to be known again or valued as wholesomeness.
But those who came from those days of yore,
Gained more than most modern folk will ever know.
That was a time in yesteryear.
moment not in vain
a touch of last golden leaves -
the smell of winter
spun shiny crystals
exquisite beauty as deemed -
farewell is breathed in
trembling on the twig
it's too late to mourn lost youth -
dead and neglected
24.10.22
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
5th place in the contest
www.howmanysyllables
5 - 7 - 5
I gave you all my love, every bit and piece,
But in return, you left me feeling incomplete.
I lost myself while loving you,
It's something I didn't want to do.
Love isn't supposed to leave you feeling drained,
Or like you've been neglected and left in the rain.
If one gives all and never receives,
Their heart will surely start to grieve.
Love grows when both give and take,
Efforts are shared, and hearts don't break.
It works when both put in the effort,
And show their love with words and comfort.
So don't give your all and lose yourself,
Find someone who reciprocates and shares your wealth.
IS THERE NO END
Boom, Boom- goes the night
Rattle tat-tat, they fight
High-pitched screaming pierces the sky-
As another young person prepares to die-
Turn on the news
A child is crying-cause- they have been abused-
While mom is pleading for justice to be served-
Across the city-another person is hurt-
__NEWS FLASH__
Drunk driver’s car jumped the curve-
Schools are no longer safe to attend-
Drive-by shootings-gang fighting-drugs
Is there no end?
Ladies pushing babies-stops to buy crack
Baby starts crying-mom goes “whack”!
Police cruise down the streets-shakes their heads
They blame the parents for the education they never got-
Knowing they are being mocked; they surmise that these streets are mean
The people are lost and confused-
The children are neglected and abused-
Is there no end?
Boom, boom goes the night
Rattle-tat-tat-they fight
High-pitched screaming pierces the sky-
As another young person prepares to die-