Long Persona Poems
Long Persona Poems. Below are the most popular long Persona by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Persona poems by poem length and keyword.
Script for a Jester’s Fears
The jokester smiles from below her joke another yoke lifted
into fears unbeknown to the mesmerized delirious crowd
A gathering of lonely forsaken shadows pretending the light
sheds roars of laughter jingles in sad comedy misses the pun
They scribe distance together in vacuum cannot feel joyful void
beauty of reflected nothingness escapes the audience’s grasp
Distressed trepidation rests in the clamorous jester’s charade
sceptre swings to the pulse of tambourine rescues the bells
‘I can do this once more and for all’ she convinces her mask
‘I may crush my persona for no one to see’ grimace or not
Slowly the makeup melts and soothes blisters of wisdom
reveals prudence in insight condenses parabolic acumen
Fool’s cap captures the moment choreography fades true to
the nature of being when a genuine smile dispels humorous guise
25th April 2017
Sweet obsession
Manic infatuation
Locked like an ancient mystery
In a golden cage of blissful devotion
Without the key of delight
To open and reveal its possession
Caught up in the earthly roots of longing
That inspire all the ghosts within me
To steal the dreams held in vain
When feathers floated free
Burying my memory
Exhausting my body with sleepless nights
Finding me with no sanctuary
To escape my misery
My obscene performance
To engage in this struggle
To find the happiness I feign to possess
Mirrors the endowment of belonging
To something greater than I harbor
Is one predisposed oblivious mess!
I said no word when silence burned my tongue,
The truth within me sang, though none had heard;
I kept it close, a lark with silver lung,
And fed it not with fear, but with a word
They came with garlands twined in flattery’s thread,
Their hands all sweet with bribes and sugared lies—
But I had seen the stars go cold and dead,
And still believed in light behind the skies.
There is a stillness deeper than retreat,
A quiet strength that does not cry or bend;
It walks alone on frost-enchanted street
And counts no loss except a broken end.
I wore no crown but dared to stand apart,
The winds were sharp, but I kept clean my heart.
Let others feast on praise, on gold, on guile—
I’ll keep my soul, and walk the longer mile.
For truth is flame, and I its willing spark.
Thirty years ago, my life fell apart/
I became fallen and forgotten/
All my friends abandoned me/
For years, those tears poured/
All those tears formed an ocean/
For a crime I never committed/
For all I lost in life/
My religion is different/
I face religious hatred for years/
My faith is unwavering/
My heart is unwavering/
I face so much hate in my life/
I done nothing wrong to justify/
The ostrasim, treated like garbage/
People put on a mask to play games/
They play with my heart, my feelings/
They can't be themselves/
They have to judge, they have to hate/
What happened to my life/
Is unheard of/
But understand this.../
I know my worth and.../
I am a survivor/
I will not give up/
I will keep surviving/
Because, I am strong/
And I am a strong survivor/
(C) Michael Fulkerson 2025
It is unfathomable to me how people can get hooked on video games
until it happens to me, and of course, it does as I have an
obsessive compulsive side thanks to my dad.
It is unconscionable to me that anyone can live like a hoarder until
I start living like one, thanks to my dad being a packrat, and teaching
me the thrill of it.
It is super weird to me that my mother, who loves to clean and cook and
keep things tidy and pay on time, and not shop had almost no influence
over me in any way apparently.
Maybe it is because I had my own ways, and her ways seemed strange
and stark and boring?
Yes, that must be it.
Daddy was a salesman, gone a lot.
When he came home, it was Christmas.
Every time.
bleed'n ink
like a river
slithering
around mountains
through valleys
and over cliffs
gushing out
falling free
all the ink
that's in me
I urge
to bleed
personal possessive pronouns
in front of your name
and every endearment
personal possessive pronoun this
personal possessive pronoun that
personal possessive pronoun sweet...
personal possessive pronoun dear...
they all roll right off my keyboard
but they mean nothing
unless rolled right off my tongue
you aren't personal possessive pronoun
anything--yet
and I've hemorrhaged
a blood bank
over you
... yeah
true...
you've spilled vast quantities
over me, too
quite the ink bath
we're wading through
but
no personal possessive pronouns
start using them on me
I'll start using them on you
next thing you know
I'm on flights
with stuffed bunnies,
roses, chocolates, and daisies
believing in
happily ever after
so... no
personal possessive pronouns
not until we have
no more ink to bleed
but, oh,
how I want you
to be....
Poet Destroyer what a peculiar name
A protective layer of sorts
Reader beware, stay at a distance see the parts she wishes you to see
I look beyond the shock and awe to the woman beneath the words
The girl named Linda with a heart of gold
I wonder who has hurt her, bruised that tender heart
Creating a mixture
Intensity, Passion, Love
The layers innumerable, a dove in eagle feathers
Capable of great heights
A predator persona with an angel heart
Striving for connection yet holding back some parts
If you look closely you will see a tender hearted girl draped in mystery
A hugger a unicorn lover
She loves to laugh and she longs to be free
Poet Destroyer still Linda to me
Appreciation in honor of Pd
Written May 13, 2013
We don’t just love, we fall so deep into the emotion
that we’re consumed in the feeling,
we’re terrified of the thought of you leaving,
so we leave before you have the chance.
I always thought this was beautiful, until I realised that when its time for us to leave, we aren’t just sad,
we see suicide and destruction as our only option,
we give you the wings of love and the chance
for you to fly away, but if you do, our hearts are left scarred. That’s why we always run first,
because even though deep down we hope you
will catch us, we pretend that turning the world against us was the only option.
While a meer human born without it's wish
Is suffering from a crule world
which is supposed to be her fate,
The trick of manupulation they play
Never gets me,
for thou I m thinking so much,
for thou I feel gulity so much,
for thou i have forgiven so much,
Thinks lowly of me?
They thou never consider my feelings
not when i m eight,
not when i am 12
not when i am growing to be a adult,
never asked how i feel
never asked the pain i hide
in my wrist....
they never embrace me in there arm
when it hurts much to cry,
do they not know? I saw there struggle the most.
do they not know- i know the pain and burden they carry.
do they not know, it sting my heart the most when they suffer
do they not know.... i have seen them in there wrose....,
it's always my fault , it's always I am wrong,
it's always I am bad and It's always Me Who They Can Relay on,
But there thinkin is Different
by there thought... i hide my bad secrets from them,
they think i do dirty things behind there back,
they think i disrespect them and ly them...
and my heart aches...
my heart aches when they say the things they feel about me...
it breaks me
And made me wish-
Wish i never exsit-
…as she partakes in real time drama
her legs shot to pieces by foreign pursuit
Kin and friends have chipped in for wooden
crutches much easier to avoid land mines
in any case and thus she seems content
A satellite dish towering over the ruble
projects a shiny world of alien domination
doubles up as a parasol in the scorching sun
The screen is vivid and livid with many a
persona non-grata and the stigma of Kain’s
recurring news adorning foreheads of gory glory
She cannot forget and must remember to
pass on the baton and story to her descendants
and she is lucky to have born two children
despite the sucked-up fact that she feels
little below the floor of pelvic give and take
By law of statistics comprehending her dire
situation Para is quite normal because walking legs
come as a premium and so she forgives and
hopes that her son will not join the militia and
her daughter can bear the cross in dignity…