Long Out Poems
Long Out Poems. Below are the most popular long Out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Out poems by poem length and keyword.
She no longer loves me
She said her heart feels it
She can't even try to pretend
Like she can really control her heart
Don't pity me let us celebrate
She had the trouble to be true
Like I am untied to one sided love
The heart can now easily let go
I feel so free -out of the cage
No body can lie to me now
Pretending to feel cherished
I really love her for such a truth
If you meet her down town
Don't look at her with wild gaze
Like she be untamed cat as a cheetah
She had learnt to be true and loving
She no longer loves me
She said her heart feels it
At first she would pretend
Yet now she can't even try to ...
My soul weeps again, calling out your name,
Through endless dreams of silence.
I lose my roots, no longer knowing where you are,
My soulmate, from where will you appear in evenings?
I write letters in the night sky, stories drawn in stars,
On the canvas of life, I reconstruct the path to you.
I wait, lost in twilight, where are you, my love?
What place in the world hides you, what mountain deceives me again with you?
With lips parched by thirst, I touch your outline in dreams,
In the torches of cold nights, where I lose myself and lose you,
I close our story between the covers of longing,
In words that tumble from the soul, without purpose and without end.
I open the book again in the evening, when the heart is life's prey,
When loneliness flows through my veins, salty and bitter,
And though longing overcomes me, I rise with each moment,
No sky is too high when my soul holds onto you.
I search for your face in old newspapers, feel your scent in verses,
And my days pass by, pale, devoid of your light.
Every morning, I wait for you, my sun,
To brighten my day, to bring me smiles, to fill my soul with love.
After all it is an observable sign of Weakness,
To want to control another man,
As it was all only ever a part
of, their existential plan,
We might then have had a different course..
So, but for now, as it is and as it stands,
We therefore need to face the facts,
And commit to a complete separation and Divorce,
At least if at all possible but with clean hands,
Of this contrived, diabolical and decrepit awful illusion,
To not be lower than, nor accept, their lying and ignoble brand..
With every single available breath,
Under no false impression nor delusion,
Of complete yet subtle ownership of Human life and death
To begin with came the stellar efforts of just a brave few..one could not deny,
Now an ever increasing truth, That outweighs the falsehood and the heinous Lie,
To rise and never relinquish your own sovereignty again - so then to fulfil..,
The Soul instinctively knows this for how and for what - to return,
That is our maker, God (Good) and our source, which is what we must relearn,
We must all “rotate” as it is - to this..
After all that is said and done
- it is his will,
Simply put.. never let up against the powers of darkness until;
As we emerge in victory for we never a moment expired our efforts spiritually and yet still..,
Just as it must be of our own decision and intuition,
- for us all, for me,
and for you,..
to know only this:
The Way Out is the Way Through..
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
[email protected]
During covid 19 Global lockdown and Plandemic
23rd September 2022
The PoetTree Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared
Run to God, learn to do it each day.
He created us and only He knows the way.
Any times, when you don't know what to do.
Get alone, get quiet, say "Please speak to you!"
Life is too complicated, no one truly understands.
God is it's Creator, and only He understand!
This world due to our actions is so full of strife!
It takes the Designer, to get us all through this life.
Why waste time trusting a flawed woman or man.
They haven't figured it out yet, and will never understand.
We want to be like this or that person, my question is why?
They got here like we did. Just like me and you they die.
Rich, Famous or Influencer, all still have problems too!
They might make lot's of money, yet no better off than you.
The Creator has left a book here just for you and me.
Ask Him to open your mind, as you read it then you'll see.
He alone unlocks it's mysteries, so we may understand.
Without Him it's just a book to every woman or man.
You must commit to walk with God to know it's secrets inside.
There are ancient mysteries and secrets, in it's pages He hides.
It's not just for the Religious, a Pastor or a Pope!
He responds to the hurting and anyone who has hope.
One on one alone with God, I've seen things so insane.
I sound like I'm lying, when I'm trying to explain.
My children, there's no limit to what the bible says God can do.
The limit is due to the mindset or doubts of me or you.
Shush Sushobhan,
she’s pushing her hand to my rock hard in the back of reception
your girl wowing at my fat long perfection,
I guess she thinks of you as rejection
after you spent a fortune forging affection,
less valued than my shlong.
Meanwhile slow and little brains porky pig
my circuit short twig tool of a boss is on an investigation
overpowered by resentment she gets my attention,
such minute intelligence reveals her intentions so evident,
I could read signs and tell of pending events,
whilst she's happy to believe I was unaware and dense.
I've cotton on to your rotten pong wanting me gone
and plotting for so long, me out witting miss puppet for the job,
accusations she'd lob
ridiculously smitten with my downfall,
now for your downfool…..
Think you’ve done better cus you ass lick more,
you’re brainy like a fruit basket whore,
That Greek bloke dumped you and not one man showed interest
it's because you’re a character men detest,
ugly with clothes on, mental scars undressed,
personality like a side dresser past it’s best,
beast and the beast misses fungal yeast,
walking around in a black suit putting yourself on the radar
put a helmet on your ugly face you’d be like Darth Vader,
no I mean,
a daft failure,
you think you're important
cus you're mentally dormant,
job performance level of slumber
dumb and dumbers dumb dumbster,
means, you are the dumbs dumped dumb stuff,
moustache and bum fluff, dog bark rough.
Let’s meet up again and see if you play those games,
now you’ve no title, see who reigns falls, up yours.
Back straight, shoulders down. Straighten the computer. Stop staring at the purple walls.
Light the candle once, twice, three times -- why won’t it light? --
before the flame finally catches,
filling the room with the scent of pine.
Breathe in, breathe out. Start typing.
Sunlight slants across my fingertips, and I turn to face the source
impossibly far from the window.
The clouds are tinged the golden white of times flown by,
of the yarn of the Fates that winds tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter in your chest until you’re suffocating, asphyxiating, gasping for breath, panic turning your body to crumbling stone.
The mushrooms know this process well. It’s been inscribed in their DNA since well before humans were graced with the knowledge of how to care for their dead.
Over the eons, they’ve befriended Time and Death alike.
What would I give to have such an intimate connection with the two?
To sit back amongst shadows that drape me like a blanket rather than grip me like a vise?
Too much time has passed. Too many seconds lost. Time, time, time, slipping away from my scrambling fingers.
Can’t grip the yarn; too silky, too precious. The Fates wove quality too fine for mortals to grasp.
Clear thoughts like an etch-a-sketch, sending fireglow hair flying. Breathe in, breathe out.
Start typing.
The words that appear are damn near incomprehensible, shrouded and hidden by
ghosts of memories that weave themselves through my thoughts.
A dark lake house lit by candles and the fire in my eye as I take my grandma “exploring”
over forest-colored carpet and around oak tables,
a land she’s already familiar with.
How do I rectify that vision with what’s facing now?
112 feather-light pounds of gray hair and fading eyes,
reality’s cruel reward for a life of purpose and love.
I’m scrambling to keep up with all the changes, but my grasp is slipping.
Suddenly she’s falling faster than we thought.
The heater’s white noise is the only constant,
the handfuls of M&Ms the only distraction.
I’m all too aware of the bills I’m racking up,
too cognizant that synthetic dopamine only shoves away what’s real,
but I’m crumbling too fast to care.
Shaky breath in. Straighten the computer. Stop staring blankly at the purple walls.
There’s too much to do; the future’s jumping down your throat and running away.
Start typing.
writers digest prompt write a lucky/unlucky poem
The Korean Proverb
saeyeong jima
recently came to life in my life
The meaning of the proverb
Is that you can never know whether something
will be good or bad
and that unexpectedly
what appears to be bad fortune
turns out to be a good fortune
The proverb played
out recently in my life
about lunar New Year's Day
we were preparing to go to Thailand
from two weeks from our home
in South Korea
and then at the end of February
we would do to go to DC
My wife blew out her lumber desk
and we were forced to cancel our trips
This occurred
just as the coronavirus
was taking out around the world
and if we had gone
we may have been stuck either in Thailand
or we may have been stuck in the United States
and traveling in the mist of a corona outbreak
would probably mean
that we would have been exposed
to the virus
instead we were forced to stay home
and self quarantine ourselves
and therefore
we escaped being exposed to the coronavirus
and we feel much safer
here in Korea where the outbreak is contained
rather than in DC
where it is still spreading everywhere
so in a sense her misfortune
throwing out her disk
which resulted in us staying at home
and avoiding the coronavirus
is the true meaning
of the Korean Chinese expression
saeyeong jima
Little hairs in certain cases,
are expected that we might see.
Arms and legs are common places,
as well as hair upon our faces.
On top of head, if no traces,
accepting bald, is what you'll be.
Lots of time, as well as money,
coif the hair, in styles aplenty.
Some may use in terms of measure,
when found in food, a real displeasure!
Little hairs sometimes on end,
results of cold, or perhaps frightened.
Little hairs grow as brows,
enhance the lashes, we do espouse.
But when we age, some do appear,
as little tufts upon the ear.
We all spend time giving chase,
of little hairs out of place.
You have the most capricious personality.
You are a woman who is unpredictable and flighty.
When it comes to resources, you display profligacy.
There seems to be contempt whenever you see me.
However, that is nothing to your irascibility.
There is something I now know with great certainty.
It is all over. You are not the right one for me.
I can easily see that you have inexplicably changed.
In a short time, you have become unstable and deranged.
You have driven me to the brink with the way you treat me.
Anyone can see that your behavior is unequivocally,
the most concrete definition of cruelty.
For being the ultimate example of a virago,
I have no alternative but to let you go.
I want you to know that I have taken all I can.
I will allow you to become a problem to another man.
Up and down, up and down, up and down
I don’t know if I have any more energy for
Up and down
If the line would flatten
I could finally rest
A masked woman wearing scrubs
Fights my inclination for slumber
But, sleep equals peace
My lungs and head droop
Alarms blare
I hear mumbled words
Something about rousing my oxygen levels
I breathe the shape of a box
A trick learned from a Seal
It works as prescribed
Briefly
But, also adds weights to my eyes
The black beckons
More voices
Persuading
For a return to deep inhalations
Inspiration illuminates and
Instead
I sing
Laughter and confusion
They believe they are witnessing another
Drug induced performance
However,
I
Am
Lucid
They don’t understand
I’ve dwelt in darkness
Many times before
I’ve tried to disappear
Into its obscurity but,
For reasons yet revealed
Someone
Keeps shining a spotlight
On me
On everybody
So, I croon
Only a few notes initially
My oxygen spikes
Astonishment
Giggling turns into song requests
A Frank Sinatra classic was my first
Fully awake
Stability
With challenges
Ups and downs, ups and downs, ups and downs
I’m so tired
Nevertheless,
I’m on stage
The spotlight shines and
The traditional theatrical battle cry insists
The show must go on