Long Perturb Poems
Long Perturb Poems. Below are the most popular long Perturb by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Perturb poems by poem length and keyword.
And then she said to me,
“Just keep yourself in mind as well. That’s all I ask…”
And I felt the shards of pain in her soundless voice, though it was your grave’s soul speaking
I wanted to embrace her for that eternal kiss of advice,
Had I done so, I would never leave her side…
Still my dear, I must go, to see more of this world
To be there for my dear angel despairing
In our heartfelt goodbyes, you well know my mind and heart are with you
Love, I must be free now
There awaits an untouched land to gaze and walk upon
A new hand to touch and hold on to
A purpose for my words I hold fast
And please… please don’t say you have fallen for me!
For I am tragedy, chaos, a never-ending pit
Please don’t go down that road- think nothing of it!
As she pleads to me…
Don’t go…don’t go
I’ll miss you…I care for you…I love you…
And my eyes close in that frustrated pause of what may happen
Cringing at the thought of losing that warmth of your cling
I cannot bear to hurt you dearest one…
Yet I cannot bear to stay
Because if I turn once again to you,
I will never see the beauty beyond us both
And this, with your sacrificial tears, I simply cannot bear!
Do not say so loud that you love me,
I cannot bear to hear those words from your heavenly mouth
They both sooth me and perturb me
Can’t you see…why I must never let you have me?
In many of those excruciating pauses,
There were times that I begged for you to love me
Searching every detail out, every crack appearing on your trembling flesh
But when I saw the gaping hole that made up my closest friend,
When it finally sunk in that your heart was crying for me,
And me only,
I remember whispering to myself, though directed at your soul,
Love me when the light dims
Be selfless when you must let me go
I will write you poetry when I feel your heart sobbing
And the laughter we have long shared will kiss your thrones of despair
You will always be a deep, warm part of me
A heart so jovial in outer layers, but tender in its beautiful core
I will sweep my wings over you, dearest
Singing and dancing around bittersweet chords
For in between the rests of passion
There is vast beauty beyond us
“Keep yourself in mind as well”
Though your heart trembled from the pangs of unsaid truths,
That’s all you asked…
Inadequate sleep ex(spells) volatile mental state
Existential crisis ensued,
hence the following
I attempt to relate
forewarning the missus,
who heard bellicose me loud and clear
excoriate, deprecate, communicate
callously, blisteringly, angrily... expostulate
refrain awakening this sleeping spouse
yours truly unapologetically will berate
forgetting self promise
vowing never to castigate,
yet flush with red hot poker rage
out nostrils steam doth emanate
analogously soused madman
ranting and raving
seething venomous, obstreperous,
iniquitous, ferocious... hate.
Violent monstrous, horrendous,
atrocious... beastie boy awoke
reconciliation with goo goo doll broke
bitter bile doth choke
experiencing helplessly shape shifting,
whereby one fell stroke
witnesses emergent Mister Hyde
frighteningly evil doppelgänger doth cloak
easy going, mild manner Doctor Jekyll
former incarnation, where vitriol spoke
housed said baneful nightmarish spirit
killed latter personality
without so much as "ribbit" he did croak.
Back far as I can remember
best not disturb
akin to sleeping bear
wrath nobody can curb
once roused not unlike Croat Serb
War of Independence fought
from 1991 to 1995
decades long smoldering resentment
series of unfortunate events did perturb
between Croat forces loyal
to the government
of Croatia, which declared independence
impossible mission to summarize,
within couple lines
comprising poetic blurb
disintegrating Socialist Federal
Republic of Yugoslavia.
One look no further
than Greek mythology,
where said classical civilization
incorporated elaborate building blocks
to explain human
nature as well docks
side of the moon,
particularly the seven deadliest sins
unleashed out Pandora's box
I suppose more diabolical
than high school jocks,
whereby yours truly
convenient sacrificial "scapegoat"
after effects still reverberate
like chicken pox
scarred psyche, no matter
still recollect rocks
thrown at Boxer/ Dalmation
Georgie by the Daily's
when family lived
on Lantern Lane.
I toss the coin anxiously
For both sides perturb and dazzle me…
The first side, well, it is a beauty to say the least
It is clear, crisp, like fresh pages of a favorite book
Peace offers a stronghold in its rhythmic and quiet composure
It is unassuming in all that it is…it is truth, with open arms
Like droplets of rain against my neck,
It is refreshing to caress its cooling pages,
Best of all, it heals when I choose to feel it and live it…
This side is strong, and often shames my desire for the other…
The other side, I gaze upon it often, its presence so shocking
I often doubt it even exists as much as I sense in my life
Then I remember that it surrounds me,
A universe of glow aching to crawl into my night
Wishing to embrace me, so it may reveal its secrets to me
I am drawn to its perplexity, its grand design…
Its fiery resilience silences my prayers to puddles of pleasure
It is a hard-heated side becrossing all sides… stopping all resistance…
I toss the coin high, mindful of its landing,
Though as it does it spins furiously upon my heart and mind,
Caught in the blurry winds of dissonance and rivalry
How distressing it is to see them collide together in all that they are…
For I want them both to win…I want them both desperately
But only one side will dominate in the end
And only I know who will win,
As I set this silent war of hypocrisy
Free…
Free into the stars, where that unknown wisdom will be revealed in future days
I had to set it free…
For there are still other sides we must struggle to let go of
Touched by so many hands before us…
We must choose the side to say goodbye to
As we fight to focus our fleeting attention
Upon the one and only side that will touch the face of Providence
-For Justin Bordner's "What is Your Hypocrisy?" Contest -
A boy meant to be strong
And unbreakable but here
Contradictingly wrong
His heart lay shattered in chaos,
Broken inside by circumstances.
Growing up he never knew wht
Peace meant, trying to
Cease the burdens of
his folks.
His head lay heavy
For a teenage boy with a lot of
Responsibilities,
Honey he must bring
Home a lot of money.
Born with a lot of dreams
But the situations has
Snatched away that beam.
He is a boy, does that make
Him not fit to feel low.
Darling do not pry for
Once let him cry!
His face reflects indifference,
Not troubled by anything that
goes in and around his life,
Unbothered,tough and husky,
But oh boy Iam afraid ur eyes do
Not co-operate the way ur face does,
To conceal perhaps what's truely within.
He was born to be muscular not sensitive.
He was born to reflect strength not weakness.
He was born to be a bread-earner not be a domestic worker.
He was meant to soar high but
The thread of commitments that keeps
Him binded wouldn't untie him free.
Did anyone stop to enquire whether
He was alright, when all they wanted to
Know was:'O beta, what's ur salary?'
'Which company do u work for?'
'U live abroad right?'
Sick of these monotonous questions
How long will he keep lying to himself
That he was well off alone,
Tiring himself for his family's
Living.
After all what did his soul
Frankly yearn?
Perhaps a soothing company,
Freedom from the shackling liabilities,
Run away to a faraway land where nothing would perturb,
Pull off what he
Loved since childhood,
Follow his passion
for once in his entire life,
To Let his parents know
He was born to Live
For himself and not to
Live by coinciding social norms..?
His is a story rather incomplete
To be told!
A friend like you is not just an ordinary friend.
A friend like you is a friend to cherish.
A friend like you is a precious gift from God.
A friend like you is amazing, indeed wonderful.
You are a true friend, you are worth integrity.
Through over-turning seas we clung to each other.
Through raging storms we stumbled and staggered together.
You helped me against dreadful tempests, you helped me turn
my mountainous impediments into plains.
O' a true friend indeed! A friend like you is unbelievable.
You were always there when I was engulfed in a deep sea of melancholy.
We shared laughters, we shared cries and we shared thoughts.
Yes we fought, we had randoms of disparate thoughts, days and even weeks passed without a word merely a cat's look.
Oh! what else could friends do?
The walls of our friendship will never collapse.
The walls of our friendship are tightened by integrity, happiness, discipline and affection. Humongous mountains, long rivers, yes even wide oceans may separate us, but it is indeed an everlasting friendship.
Nothing can part it, even Satan himself. Our powerful walls will only be shattered by Death. Oh no! it is His insatiable plea to perturb the spirit.
A friend like you is a friend to trust.
A friend like you is a friend to protect.
Flames raged betwixt us but
we've become like brothers over time.
We've become friends of soul and flesh, like bones and flesh.
A friend like you is worth gratitude.
You've been my second should when I was weak.
I will cast away the bittersweet memories,
but never will I banish those of good times.
Is this a definition of a friendship? Banish such thoughts
for this is a special thank to a friend like you.
To you special friend.
God We Have To Thank
Was a famous priest named Father Frank;
And when seen how our sad hearts sank;
Loved a lot;
He said not;
God we have to thank for pulling a prank.
There once had been a promising pastor;
Did perturb us by being a big procraster;
Had a feel;
Was ideal;
Became a Methodist and lost his stature.
Father Frank believed in being involved;
Everything around him always revolved;
Great counselor,
We knew for sure;
Found solutions and our problems solved.
Father Frank always knew what God meant;
Be careful who you select for your President;
To my fine friend,
This message send;
Must receive My blessings and also consent.
What Father Frank did was always diligent;
Knew how to handle those being indignant;
Horrible despair,
Would not share;
So he started putting us in a separate tent.
Father Frank can negotiate and communicate;
Should never wait around or have to hesitate;
Never abrupt,
Or ever corrupt;
Sermons are great and you they do educate.
Father Frank likes getting you in the mood
On forehead wears a cross that is tattooed
Best looking priest so others of we shoed.
Father Frank has become a blooming flower,
We love, enjoy and appreciate hour by hour;
When knees do kneel;
How horrible they feel;
In all of our hearts has started a roaring fire.
Father Frank is a fine natural born laugher
Have him at Saint James we would rather;
He has great way,
With words to say;
Love hearing sermons now and hereafter.
What I want to hear is poems do please;
Read them as they continue to increase;
A parable tell,
That is swell;
And hear a sermon about birds and bees.
Jim Horn
.
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
against the western wind; he will certainly mourn Piraeus,
and with sorrow-striken eyes, he'll invoke Poseidon.
Then he'll depart carrying the long hunting horn.
The small vessel will hold out and he won't fear waves,
but he laughs at Ares--who despises all kinds of irony.
Occasional gusts soothe the skin on his noble face,
unwrinkled and unrugged. Spring water should
quench his dry tongue; it's too warm and tasteless.
Stored in a huge amphora which depicts faces
of gods and warriors engaged in warfare,
it has the same warmth of the sweat that drips
from his hot forehead that has turned red.
Ahead, wisps of fog arise--an imagery whale.
Beyond there are perils and certain delights;
thoughts of danger will perturb him, thoughts
of discovery will enthrall him. He will be experiencing
them on his voyage--what he desires is smooth sailing.
He has heard of sirens and cyclops,
of fertile valleys and fields of yellow wheat;
of buffalos that roam, of goats and sheep that bleat.
How amazed he will be to find rocks
to build the New City*on that pristine shore--
he will declare his Queen sitting in the marble throne!
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
to escape Achille's curse; he refuses to hide in the wooden horse,
he will never return to Greece. Athens and Sparta will not fight
with swords and arrows; their grand plan is to win war by deceit.
Cleverness will defeat the Trojans. Only Helena foresees the worse;
they don't heed her words--Troy will fall to the enemy.
* The New City: Neapolis ( Naples ).
I thought for so long you were my good friend,
trusted you with a faithful mind without any doubt,
but in the difficult times I didn’t find you by my side,
saw instead the mask you wore fall discarded in debris.
Your senses became the fast spreading wild fire of hatred,
uncontrolled, it smoldered the motif of your intrinsic quality,
and as it flared up, it burned my gentle demeanor,
its viciousness blazed the bonhomie of our bonding chords.
The scruple of your sane senses turned into cinder,
erupting out of the fuming abhorrent chamber,
flew in the spreading smoke of stifling spite,
tearing the threads of reason you lost, I didn’t know why.
I didn’t run away utterly dejected from you to self-heal,
or being despondent, sought shelter in the den of disdain,
nor did I ignite within me another flame of revulsion
to treat you the way you did me, and feel good in retaliation.
As one fire can’t ever extinguish or contain another fire,
for they burn together the shrinking space of restrain,
I faced you with self-assured confident calm mind-set,
for the serenity of my soul your hate couldn’t perturb.
The flow of forgiveness stream emanated from within me
as the embracing nectar of divine fountain.
Emerging empathy drenched me with cool shower,
while the tender touch of absolution doused the fire.
In the space of bruised essence that slowly transformed,
I felt the benign breeze of prudent composure blow.
I arose from the ashes of fond feelings burned by your hate
to send from my tolerant heart friendly good wishes to you.
This erstwhile avid poet stir "boy"
prone to hyperbole in a "man" newer
(manure) of writing about his foie
gras bulls, (which matter of fact
happen tubby Ruby red)
redirects his gripe, how
he no longer doth enjoy
sharing his rhymes without
(poems), resorts to joy
full tongue in cheek humor to
lament, harumph, decry...
a source of annoy
ants, sans how nearly every
one of my satisfactory
albeit "FAKE" Hiam
Bick Penn- -Tam Meter
most definitely did perturb,
irk, and displease to cloy
administrators regarding gamut of
various and sundry writing groups,
(yes specifically geared to poetry),
(presuming me in cahoots with George Soros)
I suspect did employ
secret double agents groomed by
Mark Zuckerberg, and/
or Sheryl Sandberg deploy
ying ambiguous reference did not tow
arbitrary guidelines to cite nearly each
endeavor of mine as discrepancy
causing equivalent as digital row
points of view not
countenanced from this bro'
penniless, nearly without dough
nuts to dollars, thus to assuage ego,
(which rejections of sorts)
did rankle at first, hence
explanation no mo' crow
wing (except on my homepage),
an abrupt end explains absence
in case any readers did show
interest can still peruse yo
yo wing unstrung thoughts
from this average joe
by enclosing a blank check
addressed to this wise
acre and silently assertive bozo,
who will express how ire doth flow,
yet tactfulness and diplomacy
kept in mind before I go
ranting and raving like some roe
ving madman wading in deep water!
Canto V: The Oracle
________________
She came round the dunes again to disturb
Wise and whistling maiden bristled knowledge
Ghost's and demon's she did like to perturb
Those with knives, came to give homage
'He lost' she sighed and her tears flowed
Witch, woman, every which way she glowed
'Evil begets evil' but he resists
His withered soul rightly then to insist
'They did not return the favor' he plead
The oracle replied angry 'Desist"
Her spirit felled with his rage, he fled
That was behind he thought 'so far so good'
Devil's deeds he'd do again in fact
Trace him down now, he'd kill if he could
The soul now beyond withered, more cracked
Than repairable it would seem to be
Blessed child to heaven's kingdom do you see?
Devils quarters he remained stuck within
Planning and plotting for the lies with sin
Spun round in circles, Lucifer's chosen
Not far from a lake in spite of it then
Not far fetched as his heart had frozen
Canto: VI: The Closure
__________________
The oracle was so far gone
The blood had all dried
Spiritually withered bones
The deeds done and applied
Then he came to realize he was lacking something
But what was it he pondered?
Oh that beauty in the distance, pearl white robes!
Kiss the mist of teary eyes and wince
Because his closure, his answer was amiss
Purgatory for this bastard and his devils wish
You stabbed me
In veritas, nox.