Long Peer Poems
Long Peer Poems. Below are the most popular long Peer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Peer poems by poem length and keyword.
The sea heaves and shudders, white caps jittery
as if moved by wrongs
Sun, water, clouds merge - a far off fusion
Horizon opens to an endless blue,
hanging low like a hot air balloon
Boy at the ship's railing, hunched over, arms crossed,
his head resting on his limbs
Gaze entrenched, anchored
about the sail
to an isle of sandy beaches,
to turquoise, shallow waters,
vibrant palm tree shading
To contemplate outward,
about what strains attachment
about choices that salt the air
where to draw his lines
Meditation, spaces to explore
Boy on the teen ledge of growth,
to consider different roles
to deliver different scripts
A lurch to awareness, uncharted waters,
unsettling speed
He fights to focus,
to know the gentle sweep of waves
to peer beyond the sea's edge
as equator light glints his face in gold
Poem composed: March 18, 2021
revised: November 2, 2022
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
Acorns and golden leaves dotted the path before us,
your hand cradling mine like a mug around warm tea.
The steam was our breath, hot and kissing. A hidden
walkway just for us in those woods behind your house.
“…I was so stoned…”
But the school hallway trod a different path, stained in
peer footprints and slurs from the acquaintances you
shunned when alone with me but high-fived when passing
on the football field. I carved your name into my desk.
“…I don’t remember a thing…”
You built a wall in those woods where we walked - erected
it with bricks made from shame and cement that turned my
giddy mouth into a well of stones, grey. The stream that runs
at the bottom of your garden still holds those stones we skimmed.
“…I was so drunk…”
It became a eulogy, a refrain you told me after we stared too
longingly or our faces caressed; a mantra you lived by publicly
when privately your walls were invisible to me. My thornless
vines wanted only to shore up the cracks you felt inside yourself.
“…I don’t remember even seeing you at the party…”
Years later at the reunion the auditorium still smells the same.
A scent of sweat and plastic chairs hovers in the air, mingling with
the memories of your lips upon mine. You turned my sun upside down.
My moon was no longer white but painted the kaleidoscope of a clown.
“…I can’t feel this way about you, not right now…”
The porchlight flickers outside your house still, a firefly’s
electricity dimming. I wonder what would have happened if we
had just been together, been free to be together. Yesterday,
I walked back amongst those dropped acorns and autumn leaves.
Your wall was gone.
Fashion, the fresco of generational passion
keeps pace with the sprint of rushing times.
Like an art-form it makes cleaved impression,
modernity worn even if body contours don’t rhyme.
Vision blank, she cat-walks the fashion track,
dormant desire turns her to an exhibit called style.
A bedecked sheep trailing the peer pack,
proud of floating on current of vogue all the while.
Travelling backward on minimalistic pathway,
a derivative image she carves for people to adore.
In sweeping winds of time present she likes to sway,
thinking fashionably, less is more.
November 16, 2019
Contest : Fashion
Sponsor : Julia Ward
over occupied world
bewildering hodge-podge of people
pushing stress where it ought not to be
in the slim rays of late day
in the splattered mess of guttered streets
a homeless man asks for a light
for a half burnt cigarette
then money for food
nerve knotted living squeezed between soiled fingers
his fingers
most shove by him like gnats late for breeding
people in pinup poses
keep silent midst foul displacement
shun soiled annoyance like shoddy prospects
does a story untold, matter?
does all humanity deserve recognition?
maybe things just fall apart all on their own
maybe once there was a time when lushness oozed like honey
from a jar
homeless man seeks a light
unflagging energy to be seen
girdled by grit
a real mission
not to wipe away self like crumbs from a plate
sometimes we move in gray clouds
a pretense, unseeing squalor
as vagabond pleas jar at comfort
our aligned security by uttering "No"
such feel good factors
defending synthetic spheres
that peer at screens
as light loses traction
Poem composed April 12, 2023
There's a secret hidden behind the mask I wear
and if you dare to peer into the depth of my eyes
you will discover my soul has been laid bare
My flaws empower me, despite the guiled disguise
I appear to be a peach dangling from a tree
ripe for picking according to my blushed skin
but I am rotten to the core, and you cannot see
my blemished soul; the lies and faults within
I am the most tempting bouquet of the finest wine
Sniff and swirl before tasting me with your lips
If you over indulge from the harvest of my vine
I could destroy your life by causing an apocalypse
I'll enter your heart offering the petals of a rose
I can be beauty to behold, but beware of my thorns
They can draw blood. It's a danger I often pose
My mask conceals my identity by covering my horns
Strand's New Poetry 14 Contest
Sponsor...Brian Strand
July 28, 2020
"From Here to Now"
by: Eric L. Boddie
I am a man, but I am not what He Intended
That is not the truth, but still, we pretend it
You see, God doesn't make mistakes, that's the Ultimate Fact
So without Him, it is impossible to keep Life intact
No man is worthy of Heaven, imperfection makes that clear and plain
He Loves us so much that He Died to Shield us from the unholy pain
Still, so many don't Believe, still, so many others wonder how
And so many lack the directions of how to get from here to now
You see, my body....my body is right here
Now I have to conquer the temptations it holds so dear
You see, my mind....my mind is right here
Now I must allow Him to keep it sound and clear
You see, my Soul....my Soul is right here
Now it is time to put negative things in the rear
You see, my time....my time is right here
Now I must spend it being another's peer
You see, my Love....my Love is right here
Now I must use it to bring another cheer
You see, my journey....my journey is right here
Now I must follow the direction for which God Will Be The One To Steer
You see, my chance....my chance is right here
Now I must accept God's Challenge without any kind of fear
You see, my Life....my Life is right here
Now I must use it for His Service or else hell will be the reason for my tears
From here to now, it is up to me to find my way
But I know that He Will Guide me, for you to do the same is the reason that I Pray
Falsete and Fach
---------------------------------
octaves play a crucial
structural and
stylistic role
lowest notes fall below
the 20 Hz threshold
of human hearing and
can only be
measured with instruments
12 semitones
Sound frequencies range
from about 20 Hz to
20,000 Hz, which covers
roughly 10 distinct
octaves of audible sound
There are 7 full octaves
plus 3 extra low keys
, totaling 88 keys that
span about 7.25 octaves
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Mastretta De Sa' Sopranista
------------------------------------
-E per quanto riguarda le possibilità
passando a un approccio
basato sui problemi?
traditions start somewhere
doing things for a reason is
often the right thing
to do
looking toward
our goales
budgeting our endeavor
profiting
and profit sharing
to create healthy
long lasting
relationships
that are meaningful
and complimentary
-----------------------------
Baby blues bite
Worry weans write
Apt anxious angst
Bearing burst banks
Choice clusters chance
Daze dangles dance
Ends exploit etch
Feel frenzy fetch
Glimpse gloomy gaze
Hide heavy haze
Ire invokes ink
Jest jump starts jinx
Kind keeper knows
Live lavish low
Meet mangled mix
Note nimble next
Odd old obvious
Plead poignant pierce
Query ***** quest
Reap rowdy rest
See stormy sight
Treat troubles tight
Use umpteen urge
Vet vibrant verge
Wise words work well
eXplore eXcel
Yield yonder yes
Zip zooming zest
Taste touchy times
Peer pressure primes
Leon Enriquez
26 March 2018
Singapore
Tanka
Folk Heads Down in Flocks
waders stoop heads down
feeding uncoupled in flock.
like texters bowing
heads down to worship screen folk
disengaged with here and now
Heads Down, Engaged to Screen, Remote
Like waders at dawn sifting mud
with heads-down stance,
Modern folk in flocks with heads down, peer at screens
With thumbs a-tapping, eyes engaged
with friends on screen remote
But what of the here and now?
Those poor folk you are with, are ostracised,
displaced by 'You've got mail',
subplanted by there and then.
It is worrying how screen worship
has become such a priority.
It is infectuous when others all around you do it.
Interuptions to conversations now an accepted interlude,
not seen to be rude, when message calls
with bongs and rings,
demand heads-down bowing stoop
to worship screens.