Long Pivoted Poems
Long Pivoted Poems. Below are the most popular long Pivoted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pivoted poems by poem length and keyword.
~ A Story You'll Surely Adore ~
('Suicide's a Pain')
As I was about to enter the store
I was smacked by a malfunctioning door
Without so much as the slightest warning
or a perfunctory good morning
Astonished more than stunned
I took off at a brisk run
to inform the manager-on-duty
of the door that had greeted me so rudely…
When I’d finished my story, to my utter surprise
the manager muttered: “Lies, lies, nothing but lies”
My jaw dropped and I exclaimed, “Why? Why? Why?”
the manager replied, “We’ve an epidemic of spies”
“Spies from our competitors,” he continued
“that’s why we smacked you upside your head”
In disbelief and rage, I said, “Well, I never” –
pivoted right back into that door ~
and keeled over dead
I trusted the circle I called my own,
But shadows revealed where betrayal had grown.
A love I believed in turned into a thief,
A million was stolen, my name dragged in grief.
They thought they had buried the fire in me,
But pain is a teacher, and pain sets you free.
From ashes of loss, I’ve chosen my way,
To rise even stronger with each passing day.
I pivoted paths, let the old chapter close,
From fintech’s hard lessons to new seeds I chose.
Occupational safety, with purpose I stand,
Training, rebuilding, with strength in my hand.
For setbacks are whispers, not endings, but calls,
To rise from the ruins, to dance through the falls.
I am not discouraged, my spirit won’t bend,
Each loss is a lesson, not the story’s end.
You got distance, relief, and healthy distraction.
I was held by responsibility, restraining reaction.
For you, novelties, travels far and wide.
For me, holding down the fort became a thorn in my side.
We both bought into this future plan of ours,
Retirement security, all worth a couple of scars.
I soon came to learn, oh, the lesson cut deep,
The flashbacks still find me, break me open, make me weep.
I thought I could fix you, guide you, help you understand,
Shield your pain, comfort you, wasn’t that part of the plan?
Was I mistaken? I’m confused, where did I fall through?
By understanding your wounds, was I obligated to bleed for you?
The imbalance made me dizzy, so much I couldn’t stand,
The quiet cost of holding us together in one hand.
We adapted. We pivoted when the world pushed full force,
Learned how to ride the wave until it ran its course.
Silence and bending, born from a place of love,
No inner brakes, no discipline, when the "coulds" replaced "shoulds".
The impact of your actions landed differently for us both,
I’m still living with the weight of what it broke.
Your logical explanations walked calmly away,
While I stood emotionally stranded, unsure how to stay.
Whatever comes, let it meet me whole,
Not as the keeper of another soul.
I’m done confusing strength with staying still,
I now choose a life, that meets my will.
When the world was youthful
spiderwebs sang as they were spun.
Language was woven in the air
as accents of winds and trees
conveyed by an eloquent sky.
Untrammeled meadows annunciated
upon the lips of dens and burrows
scooped by shrew, mole, and vole.
Fresh bathed daisies signed a speech
as they swayed,
buttercups birthed calligraphy’s of sunlight.
Giddy rills gave voice to fritillaries
that flew to the sun or moon.
Words were idioms painted upon
the melodious leafage
of the up-risen and rising.
Then that shaggy brat
the primordial ape it grunted forth,
translating its gripey gut
through the clack of a creaky tongue.
Guttural and gregarious
it learned to babble and
belch an oral discordance.
It yapped and yawped,
yawped and yapped
until a spoken language
verbosely pivoted to prolix
polluting the very airy air.
Then it was
that a nascent poet boldly stood
rhyming would with could
until even the dumbest of his tribe
understood
and cheered him fit to bust
while the green grown world
with all its idiomatic kin
lost the will to express
as before
for the fluent earth again.
Tribute to Maradona
TO SKY HIGH
Small structure in five feet five frame
flashed in fabulous fame.
Little Argentinian Golden Boy
Bullish, buoyant, graceful with eyes angelic,
Rustic, over confident, playing magic.
Appeared an exceptional footballer
Nonparallel on strut and swagger
with tangled disarranged hair.
Careful yet without care.
mesmerizing spectators.
Promising skill on challenge of arrogance.
Strong sturdy solid sense of balance
pivoted on self-belief.
His real relief
to sky ball high playing on loops of eyes
with magic of swift feet showing miracle.
Public was marveled on blink less glance.
Excitement, emotions to enhance, not perchance.
Sometimes tagged by adverse label
as Sport’s misguided rebel
or misdirected: Full of flaws,
violating norms and laws.
Fair-fine or foul play,
Right or wrong! Useless to say.
Legitimate or illicit! No way.
Maradona, World Celebrity
charmed populace with same intensity.
Extremely impatient cocky,
Yet He was the STOCKY
NUMBER TEN
reaching heaven.
Beyond football ground crossing cheekiness
Maradona proved his splendid sunniness.
Amazing talented player touching excellence.
Left too early the high heroic spirit.
An athletic genius touching summit.
12/01/20
First Place
'Obituary Maradona' Contest by Mohan Chutani
Poetry in Motion
Contest by Matt Caliri
between the crown and Bindu zones
the true highest point on our head
a blob of bliss consciousness hones
the touch of God by Whom we’re led
chin chakra holds steady resolve
it is God’s will that here too acts
boundaries blur as we evolve
dance that kundalini enacts
at the centre our heart expands
it is the sacred meeting place
melting pot of energy bands
where time dissolves and all is grace
spine is a seamless band of steel
it too is pivoted to heart
palms and feet too express their zeal
to align fulfilling their part
between eyebrows up till the crown
the nadi becomes our third eye
in bliss mists we willingly drown
resurrected after we die
How often do shadows cry
And if they do
This means like us
they feel to
How often do whereabouts
dispose of their founders
The emptied hands pivoted gruesome
To only expire before you lose them
This is why my eyes cry
Late night movies
Midnight hours, how do you spend them
When letters feel “ no need to reply”
To where do we send them
A curious mind in eye sight
A figure taunted
The difference in people is
“Don’t let your personality dye”
Flesh wounds appear the same
Determination’s found in change
Could you spare me some change
A course of new events
Hand prints on the face of cement
Try not to take life out of context
“I’ll be home soon”
Read his final text
History is somewhat of a vex
Sort of a temporary fix
A day, a age, that some of us miss
How do you become a person
Or exhibit the features of everyday people
Minus the wars, the battles, the ether
Trouble awaits
For those of us who refute
Similar choices brought
About in this place of being
Bloggers are subsequent to ignorance
Just the lack of reading
Express’s the true meaning of being for real
The objective to live and protect yourself
Minus the kill
Sometimes glory comes as a steal
Did you think love was beautiful
Black coffee, cigarette buds
A raspy voice
from a figurine with seductive cuticles
A slice of pie
Banana’s and caramel
On top of our lie
Apart of me is fiction
And some of you is true
A journal
Do you commit yourself to unfulfilled comments
Did you dust your hands off
Wash your face
and forget to accept the necessary compliments
If I’m shady
then you weren’t around
Too far gone, dancing in the sun
Musically
you love the violin
Sympathetically
you can’t sing without the gin
Went searching for good enough and discovered it can only come from within myself
So I went back to the future in a DeLorean to try to pinpoint when things began to veer off track so I could alter time to put them back
It took a few trips after realizing I couldn’t quickly flip the script
Started by slowly chipping away to release the image I was trying to portray
Then pivoted to rewiring my circuits to help wrangle my inner circus
The process pivoted me from my head to my heart which granted me a fresh start
But it was only after I made the choice that I was able to hear a new inner voice
It started as a whisper but turned into a roar that I could no longer ignore
To wash over me to say what had been so tough, that I can relax and rest easy now since I am good enough
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtpPcmLKRFU Dancing Bird
Yesterday, I saw a shadow dart across my keyboard.
When I turned to look outside the window,
I spied upon a sparrow playing in the sun.
He was dancing in dramatic fashion
Across the shrubbery that was his home.
I could tell it was a male by his markings.
He was busy with his boasting, and proud.
No longer a fledge, he fluffed his feathers
To parade his prowess to all that might adore him.
Then, he pivoted into a pirouette, and pranced
Most skillfully across the length of a branch
And launched himself into flight.
Today, the sounds of birds cackling and chirping
Inside the shrubbery drew me to the window.
I could see three sparrows engaging in some fun and frolic.
Perhaps it was some flirtatious mating ceremony.
While most sparrows do look alike,
I’m sure that one of them was the dancing bird
I’d seen the day before. I watched briefly and smiled,
Remembering my own courtship and rivals
Who would fancy my choice as their own.
I returned to the monitor and before I could begin
My work, there was a loud thud upon the glass.
I gazed outside and there upon the ground was a small hawk
Clutching the dancer in his talons.
Tomorrow, this bird will not dance.
He will not sing or court another.
And as sparrows are many,
I will no doubt find another to enjoy from this vantage.
I chide myself for failing to warn him of the danger.
I was too busy with my own enjoyment to notice.
Now, I close my eyes and reconstruct those moments
As I attempt to resurrect the dancing bird,
And preserve him....forever.
A shaggy dog espied a graceful cat
She arched her back, he fell flat
on his jowls, she pivoted - nose up
His paws akimbo, Shaggy arfed
Wait, dear cat, I can explain that
But Graceful didn't miss a stride
After all, she had her pride
Who needs a mangy mutt who falls
she thought, a dame like me must be bought
Now Shaggy may be clumsy, but he's not deaf
He heard Graceful mewing under her breath
She loves me sure, Shaggy felt
His tender heart, her icy exterior would melt
So Shaggy scrambled after her, closing in fast
When he drew close, she turned around at last
It was then that he saw Graceful's face up close
"Adios," he cried
~ Her whiskers were caespitose