Long Normalcy Poems
Long Normalcy Poems. Below are the most popular long Normalcy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Normalcy poems by poem length and keyword.
Seasons of Sanity
Affect my a$$.
It is ever thus.
Each season percolates
Distinct chemical essences from the
Cauldron of consciousness
Sloshing edge to edge in my brain pan.
Normalcy.
No one knows what that elusive
Formula could be.
Perceptions are refracted
A thousand times over
Within the smoke filled
Fun house of our existence.
Synthesis.
Earth’s seasons typify
But do not define
The kaleidoscope colors;
Moods and perceptions
Transform, intensify-
Lavenders to lightning blue,
Browns to lightening limes,
Maroons to neon ruby reds.
Thrashed strings of a guitar,
Spectrums of ambivalent
Harmonies theme my days.
Seasons of Sanity.
Anyone claiming to know
The weather of sanity’s seasons
Is to be avoided.
I had to turn back for a second look
What beauty
What grace
What elegance
What form
Despite the faded exterior
Despite the fallen plaster
The old building charmed me!
I strained to see more
Wanting to memorize each feature
Dreaming, wishing, hoping
That I could one day...
Explore it
Posses it
I ached that such a thing of beauty was
Neglected
Abandoned
Ravaged by time
By war
By callous hands
But wait.....
Was that a light inside?
A light!
The house was inhabited
A semblance of normalcy
Shone out from the window
Some poverty stricken soul
Had found shelter
In the abandoned
In the enchanted
Old building.
There is a light
Inside of me!
Look hard...
Look long...
Can you see it?
The exterior of my soul
May not be beautiful
Though there are faint reminders
Of who I was
Of who I am
Look hard...
Look long...
Don’t grieve at havoc
That time and experience
And the rough hands of the world
Have wrecked on me.
Take a second look
Look hard...
Look long...
That light is on
It beckons you
To come inside
To explore
To posses
To take up residence
In this abode of mine
Broken pieces of my soul, whispering
In ears that have run off in the night,
Refusing to hear.
Angry always.
Mouth smiles, for no reason.
Glad ears are gone.
Never liked them anyway.
Smile rolls her eyes,
Wondering which personality
She will choose not today, but the next minute.
Broken pieces of my soul,
Dancing my dreams, pretending normalcy.
Some awake now. Others long dead.
Buried alive,
Keeping quiet.
Treading softly.
Not one around suspects
How truly and utterly
Disjointed and afraid I am.
You have it all
Someone without a heart says
Or a soul.
I walk away gently,
Glad ears are gone
More than ever now.
We've lived here so long
Making fairy tales of normalcy
Existing in perpetual dormancy
Where did God go?
Left Him in pews
and dog eared passages
These are wider passages
with nowhere to grow
Crumbs still crumble
when making breads ends meat
I don't find this mete
but it still has to go
There was never honey here
Bees have opted to die in battle
and now with sore throat and palpitations
I have called on myself to carry this load
We've lived here so long
that the shadow of our shadows have found place here
Left their trace here
and linger
for as long as we know
But this is not home
We have been housed
Broken into and lived in
Unleased and unbought
The occupants are now occupied
and we have been swept clean and garnished
but yet seven more
Self destruction feels like normalcy
Sober life feels like a chore to me
Wanting peace and craving chaos Is a war to me
Pictures in my head tell me who I oughtta be
But with the weight of my vices I feel like I lack autonomy
There’s a lot of reasons to drink these days.
That’s what makes it hard to escape
Surviving in this economic landscape
Working at a sex shop is sour grapes
Especially when the wage is a low rate
When the night is gone the sun breaks
The empty room at “home’s” a reminder of my mistakes
Drunk alone and sitting on a milk crate
Cans of PBR around my feet
I’m feeling like a reprobate
Those times make me wonder why I ever did it.
But then the 7th beer you slugged down hits
And Youre reminded how it formed a habit
Music feels like ecstasy abd magic
And suddenly Youre friends with the whole planet
Youre calm in situations where most panic
And there’s always a party even when you don’t plan it.
I guess it’s the fun I really miss
I remember when I was young
We hit the bottle and the bong for a little fun
The cannabis had helped me when my brain runs
But enough time on the bottle. I come full undone.
I burned my life down around myself more than once
The worst part about it is I didn’t care
For all intents and purposes I wasn’t there
I had a lot on my shoulders to be fair
But what was once fun turned into routine despair.
On the streets and on my own, headed nowhere
But even when my life fell into disrepair
My only constant was the bottle, akways there
Thats more than I can say for most people in my life.
But don’t get it twisted i Aint bitter
I won’t dismiss the role I played either
But I still weathered famine and stormy weather
In the faintest of hopes that I would get better.
Then when you decide to stop, no one ever tells you
About what happens when you withdraw
Spending a week or two curled up in a ball
Feeling like someone flung at a wall
While the voices in your head scream thst Youre the worst of all.
There’s no help out in the world too
Everyone will tell only god can save you
But with all the I been through
Forgive me if I’m skeptical
And find these empty platitudes are untrue
They will see you as less, and you’ll never change that.
I- Introvert
N- Noetic
T- Transcendental
R- Reasoning
O- Observing
S- Scholastic
P- Procedures
E- Examining
C- Closely
T- Temporal
I- Idiosyncratic
O- Oscillating
N- Normalcy
(C) Demetrios Trifiatis
26 June 2016
NOT FOR CONTEST!
WHAT ADDICTION IS
Addiction, a brain disease, the inability to control
use of a substance, like nicotine, drugs, alcohol.
It can also be a behavioral problem, like gambling,
eating, sex, kleptomania, shopping, working.
Addiction takes over one’s self-control causing
psychological and physical harm by continuously using
the substance or indulging in addictive behavior, ruining
lives, families, relationships, careers for neglecting
health, family, friends, work and other responsibilities
in exchange for feelings of lift, physically high or lofty.
Addiction can also be caused by the environment,
like growing up with smoking, drinking or using parents,
or the cultural norms of the society or group where
one lives or exposure to peer group pressure anywhere.
I will never really know the mind of an addict.
All I could do was researched how the addict
feels and neglects everything and to understand
and cope with an addict or how to take my stand
in living with an alcoholic and be a supporter
to kick the addiction and not be an enabler.
Living with an addict is hard, difficult, tough, strenuous.
There is uncertainty, unpredictability, life is precarious.
It’s like living a double life, one day everything is fine,
then everything is like walking in a very fine line.
Life is a vicious cycle, there is normalcy when sober
for being responsible, reliable and good mannered
and then the slip or binging comes affecting judgments;
neglecting family, work, commitments; being overindulgent
with the substance that can lead to financial difficulty
if under the influence or in possession, as well as legally.
Addiction can be prevented, treated and managed.
Do not let addiction ruin, ravage, wreck or damage
your life, your career, your relationship or your family.
Consider treatments that can help tremendously.
You are not the only one affected by your addiction,
for the ones, who love you suffer from your affliction.
Addiction Poetry Rob Levasseur
12/27/20
The root cause of hate is fear
And so if you hate me then you fear me,
Which in some cases would be totally justified.
Such as if I’m a Muslim jihadi without a clue
What jihad actually means
And so wants you dead simply because we disagree,
Or say I’m a trans activist willing to kill
You and your helpless innocent children as they pray,
Because of something so arbitrary as I want to.
Everything we do sends a message
A message out into the infinite sphere of space,
Often called Heaven,
And out to everyone me meet
And these actions flavor us, our words, our looks
And most importantly our impact.
Do we seek to calm and please others
Or disturb and disrupt them?
It all depends on what they are doing.
If you’re in love with blowing yourself up
Or shooting children
In the name of some narcissistic cause
I can tell you, you should be scared,
Terrified and truly phobic,
Of my sanity, basic decency and normalcy.
Who am I?
I may be six, sixteen or sixty-six but,
“I am Charlie Kirk.”
(9/17/25)
I used to believe
I was a good girl.
Good girls listened.
Good girls stayed quiet.
Good girls obeyed.
I tried
to be impeccable.
I held my breath
when the door opened.
I closed my eyes
very tight,
as if darkness
could protect me.
Sometimes I wished
if I stayed still enough
I could vanish.
The dark
knew my secrets
before anyone else did.
The walls
kept their silence.
When morning came
I dressed myself
in practiced normalcy.
Everyone said
I looked fine.
But something inside me
had already fractured.
And little girls
do not know
how to repair
broken things—
only how to carry them.
Many a hunger goes unfed.
Some adjust and live with it,
finding satisfaction in suitable activities.
Others push that hunger down, deeper and deeper,
filling the empty hole inside themselves
with dangerous addictions that take the place
for what they hunger for.
Starved for the attention or love
they never received as children,
voracious some become.
They fill the void with things like gambling,
***********, drugs or alcohol.
Each addiction follows its victim through life
like a dark abiding shadow.
Some, needing control of their own lives,
literally starve themselves of food deliberately,
becoming anorexic or bulimic and vomiting their food back up.
The remedy for normalcy becomes
nearly impossible for them to achieve.
For others, life is boring or unfulfilling.
Ravenous as wolves, they stuff their faces.
A paradox is this – for they are not feeding physical hunger.
They need guidance and understanding,
and the will-power to resist
an over-abundance of food, which some mistakenly
believe they hunger for.
Too many hunger for money or material possessions.
They cannot satisfy their cravings,
and this may lead to crime or even murder.
Look around and see the many people hungering
for what. . . they may not even know.
How sad is a society
when what’s considered harmful or immoral
becomes the norm for what we choose
to engorge ourselves upon.
Like the swollen bellies of children in third world countries,
the substitutions for what many of us hunger for
will become the death of us.