Long Phase Poems
Long Phase Poems. Below are the most popular long Phase by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Phase poems by poem length and keyword.
I got a problem, it’s with my son.
He seems so different, the odd one.
It’s not unusual with lads his age.
They’re going through so many emotions at that phase.
Nah this is different, he’s acting strange.
It’s like he’s playing a different game. It’s like he’s playing in a different field. It’s like he’s pushing to be someone! It’s like he’s living under a different sun!
Don’t get so worked up, so what he’s not just like anyone!
He’s walking like he’s found a new craze! He’s talking like he has age! He’s dancing and singing songs. It’s makes me uneasy to see this strange wildness in my son!
Look so he’s different, perhaps not what you want to see. He’s different not like you and me! But perhaps he’s just a Mick Jagger and he knows his mind. Perhaps his difference doesn’t matter through his eyes. Perhaps his difference is what makes him strong. It’s only for you to make him feel like he belongs.
Like Mick Jagger! Yeah perhaps that’s true! Perhaps it’s natural that he’s not like me or you! Perhaps he needs to sing his songs. Perhaps I need to ensure that he belongs.
There’s nothing about his songs, there’s nothing about what he wants. There’s nothing here that says he doesn’t love you.
Perhaps you’ve just got to alter your field of view?
A pale murky day at my place
I sit in my room with no view
Watching the spring in its autumnal phase
How strange does it feel without you
I’m like a stray dog here
Who came by chance to check out
What’s new in the depth of fear
Where I used to hang around
What an obvious lie that time heals
Sclerosis may do, or dementia
But if you are sane the pain feels
Deeper, and more essential
With each empty day I live through
I feel more and more distanced
From a person I was with you
Now it’s a different existence
You are closer, you live within
And there’s me, but I’m not the same
It’s a life backwards we bring
Into each other, to carry the flame
Where are you now, I’ll come to
If it’s called nowhere, there I’ll be
The only thing I need is you
And your recognition of me.
Another phase
The Perfect picture of my soul
Was placed before the lions den
The remedy of my life was determine
By my great ancestors
The vision of my dreams lies on the
Crown I wear
Shoes got sizes so I grow with time
I can’t toil all day to be in same position
With time am getting better with my pains
So be for good or leave me for life
Am a moving train
Time never wait for nobody
Today your are young tomorrow
You suddenly get old
Then you realise that time is the highest currency mankind could ever spend on earth
You can’t eat your cake to have them back
Am living my life am growing
Life is beautiful cos
it has brought me to
Another phase.
Together…it’s one of my favorite words…I believe it deserves some recognition
sometimes it’s the simplest words that give life its definition.
If you’re lucky enough to find someone to share your world with,
your cares are few…you know there’s nothing you can’t weather
you hope for happiness, perhaps a home…a family…
and you have this shared dream of growing old together.
Then life comes at you with its responsibilities…its burdens…its restraints…
you secretly wonder how you’ll ever muddle through…
but together you do…
then one morning you wake up and realize your dreams have all come true.
You know life hasn’t always been easy…sometimes you’ve been at the mercy of the wind…like a feather…but you’re healthy, you’re happy…you’ve made it…you have grown old together.
Life has moved so quickly , however, you’re not sure when it happened…how…or even where…but with your children grown…your grandchildren growing…there is happiness in the air.
It’s a wonderful feeling knowing you were right…
when you said there is nothing you can’t weather…
and now you’re ready for the next phase of your life…
growing even older together.
There’s a funny thing about time…
as we’re building a life…a family…how often we admit…
no matter how much we try to budget our time…
there’s never enough of it.
Often time is our enemy…and we wonder if that feeling will ever end
then one day…as if my magic…time becomes our friend.
And when we have the time to look back…
we realize what has been the glue in our life…the bond…the tether…
What made our life worthwhile…was simply living it…together.
III.
Some claim that your sex is all in your head,
that you can change it at any old time,
gender is not bound by our biology,
it’s nothing more than a sure state-of-mind,
and so we see them, dressing up all weird,
demanding that we go along with their claims,
trying to say this will make it all better,
but nothing ever seems to ease their pain.
And given that forty percent of such folk
will eventually attempt suicide,
does it make that much sense to enable them,
or are we just setting them up to die?
And given how often it fades away
is it wise to encourage a change,
to watch someone mutilate themselves
when there’s a good chance it’s a passing phase?
Plus messing with hormones is a big risk,
what know we of the long term effects?
And when they’re given to confused minors
who the hell knows what will happen next?
How can we even let our children decide
to forever bind themselves to this fate,
children are stupid, their minds not yet formed,
different people at six and at eight.
With no experience of the real world,
no understanding of what is to come,
to throw in hormones and harsh surgery
To such a mercurial mind sure is dumb.
What happens if the ‘girl’ at sixteen
grows out of it and sees that ‘she’s’ a man?
Can you undo the hormones, bring back his parts,
or to that confused state is he damned?
It all seems to be a dumpster fire,
obstinance when the truth is too strong,
and you nobody even wants to ask
what will happen if we’ve got it wrong?
Classical infusion, Beethoven’s “ode to joy”
playing on blaring audiophile speakers annoy
purposely looped to destroy vagrants with electronic music
blends of subversive elements and anxious acoustic
the solution to loitering the bodega doo dropping
spicy Shiitake broth smelling pissy store front,
jaded daily stunt, at midnight wino corks popping
abruptly segway into a film from one music scene
to a melting hallway, a lipstick alley with animate occupants
disconnected unmoored, appearing eerie and dormant
fluorescent lights unleashing a hum buzz in duress
hissing sizzling hornets’ nest of unsettling unrest
illogical levels of unease, an iniquitous den
such madcap absurdity is beyond my ken
not a shack, mall, nor a Holiday Inn,
a queasy Quasi-Moto mood which lies within
backrooms filled in with discarded filets
of fishy maceral that have no place,
frolicking pixella's in a glossy abyss of liminal space
plump puce brushed lips affixed
swollen browns and purple mixed
deep maroon and dusky rose,
make-up art is what they pose
I wish I may I wish away what is unreal with blinky eyes
I pray not to awaken one more inky surreal surprise
Crescent shaped moon portions mounted in pseudo walls
mounted upon the glare in unpleasing patterned halls
side by side quagmired half discs dawning a contorted face
in a half dazed-half-moon crest loon’s invisible phase
not unconscious but in some in-between state
bored while in transition and abandoned as they await
whimsical moldings who see me try not to take a peek
an exit to this madness is what I and they seek
maybe re-evaluate my sleep number, for gravity defying rest
What insight imports this encounter and what test?
what it means for a doomed generation Xer or baby boomer,
tacked in stucco, Silly Putty it seems, in a warped sense of humor
I wish I may I wish away what is unreal with blinky eyes
I pray not to awaken one more inky surreal surprise
FIGURATIVE FINGERTIPS
a talent
to dabble
with
profligacy
in different styles
brilliant&
fluent
subtle&
muted palette
phase
of the
immediate
liberated
in a
suggestive
genre
an attractive
template
flitting between
subjects
never alighting
with a
tendency to
marginalise
artistic
encounters
&
to manipulate
scenery
of substance
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Oh, how I miss those happy days
on Halloween when kids came 'round;
their twinkling eyes danced in the maze
at our front door where treats were found.
With lifted bags held up to hold
delicious sweets we put inside,
and with no care, if it was cold,
from house to house they'd walk allied.
Oh, how I miss those happy days!
None live in neighborhood...and too,
grandkids outgrew this childhood phase...
to 'trick or treat' have said adieu.
So now we ride the streets to see
huge spiders, witches, pumpkin lights,
the kids costumed creatively...
nice memories of past delights.
Yet, Moon above with eerie glow
and ghost-like swaying trees reveal
a haunted feel which makes us know
that Halloween remains so real.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Halloween
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged:11/01/2016
Meeting New Year
In last phase of life
New Year appears
to remind
" Your time is up !”
Now to respond
last bell to ring
at door step .
But now seems
life as meaningless.
I'm to say
' Enjoyed life,
completed duties.
Met challenges
being strong and bold .
No attractions left.
Detached myself
from earthly ties.'
And now seems
life as purposeless.
All achievements
have turned obsolete
‘If Death is
ultimate end~then
why are we blessed
with emotions !'
Is Life meaningless ?
Graze in your own maze, girl
You can’t sugarcoat lies
I have seen you in a gaze swirl
Wrapped up in lullabies
Honey, what goes around, goes back 'round
Heard your heart beating, wantin' to be found
You will always be my gem
My bronze diamond too
You will always be my rock
My bronze diamond that is made from up above
You will always be like them
Who knew? Who knew?
My heart needs another lock
Where are the keys to your rather genuine love?
Your heart's a priceless, bronze diamond
You’re my bronze diamond
My bronze diamond
Please don’t tear apart our valuable bond
You’re my bronze diamond
My bronze diamond
My dear, graze in your own maze
My love, I need a tiny bit of praise
I still see you in a dreary and lonely daze
It’s just another ridiculously silly phase
You filled in all of my grays
Caught up in a wintery haze
You will always be my gem
My bronze diamond too
You will always be my rock
My bronze diamond that is made from up above
You will always be like them
Who knew? Who knew?
My heart needs another lock
Where are the keys to your rather genuine love?
Your heart's a priceless, bronze diamond
You’re my bronze diamond
My bronze diamond
Please don’t tear apart our valuable bond
You’re my bronze diamond
My bronze diamond
Now, I can see black and white clearly
My heart will not beat tonight, baby,
If you can’t love me back to life, alright?
I don’t wanna roam all over the place tonight
I gotta let you know that I care for you completely
GirI, I reckon you understand me wholeheartedly
You are my bronze diamond forevermore
You are always gonna be the one I adore