Long Padlocks Poems
Long Padlocks Poems. Below are the most popular long Padlocks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Padlocks poems by poem length and keyword.
To soar, take wing, take flight, glide ~
Be detached, apart from this life's reality
Where past sorrows shroud my remembering
To seal the heavy door to the past
And to flutter on the edge of dreams
To tremble, hover, grasping, peaceful and happy
In imagination, floating and drifting
Like a breathtaking butterfly with gossamer wings
But then, but then ~
The cold fingers of the past come creeping
Monsters, ogres, beasts of the long ago
Memories screaming, shrieking, shattering my soul
The beautiful lost in the carnage
Oh the tears, the weeping, the eternal floating sadness
The heavy door to the past is bolted, secure
Impenetrable with many padlocks and thick chains
Where anguish and bliss entwine in an endless battle
And happiness died long, long ago
But from time to time, whispering
A single memory finds a way
From under that weighty door locked, chained
And I crush the sweetness to my broken heart, weeping . . .
_______________________
April 28, 2013
Poetry/Free Verse/I would like to fly away
Copyright Protected, ID 04-474-158-28
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
I have died a thousand times but I am not dead yet
I have been buried a hundred times with padlocks hanging around my tomb
sealed off in a golden glass coffin with a sign on top which reads
"Having a long rest don't disturb"
but every time I break the glass and continue on my destined path
I have been cursed a million times but I am not cursed yet
A million daggers has been thrown from different angles at me
But each time ten million angels rushed to protect me
I will live a thousand years more so don't come screaming at my door
I will run a thousand more miles so don't be surprised
Ten million more will woo me but I know for sure that none of them is worthy
So you see none of this mombo jumbo doesn't affect me
But don't be surprised when I wake up from my long deserved rest
and take my rightful place in history
Then the entire world will wake up with me
and celebrate this long-awaited victory.
I am not done yet!
Tell me, my friend, when can I send
My spirit gently into that good night?
How many times do I have to die
Before I get it right?
Every car crash, train wreck,
Overdose, misstep,
Splintered bone, rug burn,
Danger zone, poisoned cup,
Open sore, bitter root,
Slammed door, rotten fruit,
Tool shed, chicken shack,
Demon seed, heart attack,
Foul deed, flash flood,
Drowning pool, splattered mud,
Ridicule, taut noose,
Hanging tree, hot seat,
Safety latch, knotted sheet,
Lover’s leap, cruel twist,
Sudden shift, slashed wrist,
Whiskey breath, itchy wool,
Charges due, paid in full,
Circus freak, Judas kiss,
Hide and seek, losing streak,
Broken tooth, swollen lip,
Busted jaw, sinking ship,
Hard luck, hockey puck,
Sucker punch, mother f*ck,
Hot iron, nasty cold,
Phantom limb, flat spin,
Steel glove, rusty nail,
Faded love, hammer claw,
Twenty gauge, monkey paw,
Tombstone, gaping maw,
Friendly fire, lost and found,
Piano wire, last rites,
Foul deed, prairie dust,
Jimson weed, stock tip,
Bad trip, razor blade,
Muscle rip, chain saw,
Pole axe, pin prick,
Candle wax, crack pipe,
Dope ball, monster high,
Bad call, de-tox,
Padlocks, sweat box,
Ticking clocks, hair lip,
Pratfall, bull whip,
Brass balls, matching set,
Sacred cow, tangled net,
Marriage vow, and every other
Barren point of blackness
That litters the
Eternal Book of Life
Are only punctuations
In its bloody text,
While waiting,
Waiting,
Waiting
For the death
That’s written next.
drifters we are
walking quietly through the night
the wonders of positivity opens new doors of beauty
what we see is all that is missing
what we discover are parts of life we never knew were glistening
with thumbs of exitement in the air we ready ourselves for what comes next
perhaps the gentle waters
perhaps that tranquil mountains
the element of surprise wows us like the taste cinnamon on our tongues
if we could die here we would, but instead we just wake up and plan
dreams are the art unknown and the stage unseen
behind all veils of the vibes are excursions breathtaking to whatever level eye
wanderers we are
strolling peacefully through the day
the amazement of the uplifting scenes crashing against the padlocks of our minds
as a result, we become optimistic beggars for more
the scent of all the arrows introduces us to gravitational blissfulness
in other words, God is Good....
Secrets remain hidden,
A story stays untold.
Walls grow taller,
And the padlock keeps it closed.
Keys are given
To all who reside within
And to the few who earn my trust.
Because what lies inside
Was meant to be hid.
The outside,
A perfect dreamhouse,
White-picket fence and all.
How ironic,
The same colour of drywall
In which I watched a crater form.
Few visitors ever see
What goes on
Behind closed doors.
Once I give them a spare key,
Nothing is hidden anymore.
The doorknob beckons for your hand
Before it’s too late.
Now you see inside the house,
And I know
What happens next.
Now you know my secrets,
My deepest, darkest fears,
And that shatters your lens,
Because I am now real.
But the windows are now smashed,
The story’s been told,
Walls are still crumbling,
And a new padlock now holds.
On a sunny afternoon in my country...
With the hope of receiving alert for the new minimum wage in my dreams
I decided to sleep knowing it was a sunny afternoon
Everything was hot and could not have been made cool no matter how many consumed ice creams
NEPA people even after privatization have refused to bring constant power supply
And so, I was left to swim in my salty sweat
You can imagine such a punishment for a young man trying to survive in a very hard economy of no sure employment opportunities
Except you know a person that knows a person wey sabi another person for that place
Like that was not enough within that space
Decided to take a stroll down the street
Just to get some sachets of sweet
Unfortunately the owner was just opening
And had to wait a whooping ten or more minutes for her to open her shop. Why?
There were more than eight solid padlocks to be unlocked for her shop to be opened in a country where all the security forces recruit on yearly basis
The afternoon was short but the experiences lasted longer than the roads being constructed in my lovely country
Just me satirically reflecting on a sunny afternoon in my country.
©ABSOL
IF love took me
take me my love
when breathing is
you breathing with me
and life is at
it's most loving.
And nighttime:
my hand upon your
breast keeps time
as an arm of the hour
stealing moments
within our dark.
As jaws of Cupid open
my priest of pain
begins to sing:
"Ruby heart, padlocks
and all, deployed by
angels smiling
thunderbolt-lust;
and i, too frail."
Drowning in wishing-
like sea swells
like if love took me
take me my love
across the night
into the dews, and the
'give me everything
i wish/give me everything
i love/where life is at
it's most loving.
:: 08-27-2017 ::
"I ain't gonna be nothing,
Cos it seem like f'ever I've been longing."
Tears in the eyes, phlegm in the nose,
Skin so sore, malady of the toes.
Helter-skelter, yet, nothing to show for,
Studied chemistry and physics what have I got?
I've got nothing, but walking,
Turning like a wheel, with no Boris,
Fishing and hunting, yet no prey,
A thousand padlocks and just two keys.
Governments say what they won't do,
Making us seem as big fools,
Manifestoes, flap-doodles;
Serving trimmed rubbers as noodles.
"Eat, eat, eat" they bade us,
Proud to champion course unjust.
Queen of s, Lord of tongues,
Sharpened bolox, Seasoned guts.
Now they stand as the saviours,
Voice so high, dreading as thunder.
More they speak, more they hunger,
Nourished with lies, growing fatter.
What do we do, what are should?
'nough of savagery, 'nough being fooled.
Hey hey hey I'm talkin' you.
You you you you you you you.
Y'all wake up, wake from slumber,
'Nough of dearth, 'nough of hunger.
We goan be sleepers death after,
Now eyes are open, why the scar?
If its dirt they're tissue papers,
Come for bucks, here is a dollar,
Buy the one which is cleaner,
Use it on your eyes and see clearer.
You should now see, yea better,
Humans like you claiming beggars.
Those then begging, now are loiters,
Those then loitering, now are robbers,
Those then robbing, now are killers,
Those then killing, now are prisoners,
Those then in prison, met their demise.
And on and on, Same thin' O'er and O'er.
And we live on in myopia,
Till perhaps come the rapture.
Now we need revolution,
Bundle up and throw out corruption.
Right in our palm is solution,
But we've been feared by confusion.
Change prior to conviction,
Let's agitate for lib'ration,
Kill who should die as oblation ;
Those who're swimming in corruption.
For e'ery bribe they get commission,
E'en loot their congregation,
Loaning 'em to indecision.
Spare no seed of transgression.
Even the bible make no exception ;
The book of proverbs even in extension,
In chapter six verse eighteen makes a correction:
Only the death of the innocent is a transgression,
But of the wicked? Sure purification.
The first two lines would come no more,
If we do what is right as we ought.
19:08:17:18:35
Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. We, You, I.
The old rusty gate hasn’t opened of late
Nor has it for so many years
The padlocks are seized and it’s overgrown state
Compounds our irrational fears
For when there’s a moon that is three quarters full
And the breeze makes the leaning oak moan
The gate remains closed but nobody can tell
What causes its hinges to groan
Tis said it’s a hundred years on from the day
That a lass countered her suitor’s plan
‘I’m not gonna do that, young man, young man
I’m not gonna do that, young man’
And the gate started creaking although it was locked
And my family’s torment began
‘You won’t take my virtue, young man, young man
You won’t take my virtue, young man’
Tis told that a vagrant had witnessed the deed
And the lass should have shut up and ran
‘I’m gonna tell Daddy, young man, young man
I’m gonna tell Daddy, young man’
The man took her virtue then throttled her there
Her body was quickly dissected
He crossed himself once as he padlocked the gate
The vicar’s son quickly suspected
Such ancestral shame and a dishonoured name
My guilt is a family trait
To find out the truth is the reason I came
So I reach for that old rusty gate
A brisk breeze this night, three quarter moonlight
A young girl ethereal white
‘I wouldn’t go that way, young man, young man
I wouldn’t go that way, young man’
‘No blame can there be for what happened to me
You were not there to see nor agree
But please place a stone with my name, Sarah Lee
Under that old leaning tree.’
The oak ceased its moaning, the hinges stopped groaning
She vanished but left me a plan
‘Go live your life freely, young man, young man
Go live your life freely, young man’
24 June 2022
Contest: One In Five
Sponsor: Joseph May
In waiting for you, my love, the seasons have snowed in black and white,
The landscape of our time together has been painted in trenches of lingering silences,
And every moment without your voice, an eternity crystallized in waxen clocks,
The autumns have passed with winds that leafed through memories like pages rare.
Since I've been waiting for you, my love, so many years have slipped by...
The long road of your absence has been sprinkled with shooting stars,
The weeping celestials, in the night of my soul, are the lighthouses of an abandoned edifice,
The city of my heart is in mourning, and its streets bare and numbed.
And the mournful sunsets of violet purples,
Are faded lipstick marks on the rim of a forgotten glass,
Yesteryear's dreams have become cobwebbed in untamed thoughts,
Where are you, love lost in the fields of lavender of unshared evenings?
I waited for you at the crossroads of roads, a spider's web stretched between yesterday and today,
Where vows of love were carved in wind and promises of smoke,
Like shadows that dimmed beneath the flicker of candles nibbled by oblivion,
The springs have faded, the celebrated red chestnuts have rusted, in a leaden festivity.
Yet no one passed by there, no echo, just absence as a heavy cloak,
The gate to you seems locked with a thousand padlocks of steadfast memories,
By the sea I dream of you, a foam statue waiting in silence,
Only the waves, prompt in mysteries, confide to me the secret of the parted.
The ocean of my soul waves its unseen wings,
In the close murmurs of hidden shells on endless shores,
I wonder what solemn horizons, what illuminated passages have you walked since you left?
The waves respond with froth of cold regrets and with untouched, uncreated prints.
And this evening, again, the violins cry beneath my window,
Soothing their longing in faint voices piercing the amber sky's infinity,
It's the autumn of a soul that submerges under time, under yearning, under an unconsoling sky,
In a lamentable dance to the notes of romance, which fall away like leaves in the wind, wandering without end.