Long Potential Poems
Long Potential Poems. Below are the most popular long Potential by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Potential poems by poem length and keyword.
literary food for thought.
Self Mutilation:
(ah bet thar iz an app for that!)
within unlit partial "FAKE abattoir"
sans wardrobe alcove
where dust bunnies didst allures
completing a simple task among
my never ending (Matthew's) list
of domestic chores
this undertaking engaged
thankfully while completely clothed,
and scrounging on all fours
nonchalantly picking up scattered detritus
including food crumbs
potential critters hors d'oeuvres
the spouse (ideally seated
on this same swivel chair
dashing off these lines
linkedin with this Macbook Pro) -
housing at least four scores
of word documents, she espied
the cheeky opportunity
that triggered many wars
within arms length the taut outline
of me 'lil derriere - re: rear end
temporarily dormant versus
when flatulence roars -
posterior flank hie
could not de fend
she playfully poked her finger
that didst dis send
within close vicinity of sphincter,
where rectal turgid business height tend
(most likely this husband not alone
getting tushy twerked) inn me own coal
less cents great movements got made
jabbing ma bung hole
while i happened
to be "blindly" groping
upon darkly cutout cubby hole
i.e. without wearing bifocals/ spectacles -
envision a human mole
thus amply qualified her role
to be literal and figurative
pain in the ass vole,
where much to my horror a flash
of red hot poker blind
momentary rage, did lash
out at me, when aye espied
a kitchen knife and acted rash
(how cutlery got in closet floor
a minor mystery
and potential topic de jure
for another poem)
to brandish sharp edge
around abdominal area
grabbed handle with left hand,
thence commenced to slash
rhythmically thwacking
wrist of right hand
then quickly dropped sharp implement
(as like a man momentarily possessed)
before rendering permanent harm
with a river of blood to wash.
So agrophobia,
A most ridiculous phobia,
Illogical impractical and so unreasonable,
The symptoms completely inconceivable,
A fear so irrational like a fear of ones shadow,
Although sciophobia is the fear of ones shadow,
Both more ridiculous than the other what a phobia,
Plagued by a confinement of my mind agrophobia
Agrophobia a fear of leaving my home alone,
I seemed to have lost my mind and backbone,
The very thought of one step outside my front door,
To even consider confuses me to my core,
The fear is so hardcore its impossible to ignore,
Sweating, perspiring, hyperventilating at the open door, Theres a world outside I'm dying to Theres a world out there I want to see and explore,
For god sake I cant even pop round next door,
I have lost the vigour of my mind,
I'm a prisoner held by an intangible fear I'm confined,
My four walls a cozy comforter my pacifier,
A shelter from the danger being in the line of fire,
The verbal gun fire, the glares that seem to transpire,
Amplified whispers with direct pointed gestures
The outdoors a magnified paranoid panoramic picture,
Inclusive of the anxiety of potential social failure,
All to consider if I make it outside the safety of my bunker,
This is just another day in my world of agrophobia.
Be it apple pie or any kind of bliss,
the delight that comes from pleasures not rehearsed,
as the joy and tenderness within a kiss,
my favorite one had always been the first -
the first day of summer, the first sip of wine,
savored without fear of sorrowful decline,
back then, seeing only an ascending slope -
a endless supply of potential and hope.
Yet, every sequence had a start and an end,
and when it was done, and the die had been cast,
and from its grand peak, I found I must descend,
my least favorite was so often the last -
stuffed, wasted, with a heart wounded or broken,
judging first and last from a casket, oaken,
facing disappointment and mortality,
as dreams were replaced by harsh reality.
My Child My Child by Laura Delacroix
As I stand under the large Willow Tree
with outstretched arms in case you need me
Wasn't it yesterday when you were so small
Now you stand up so tall
I see you stand there with your head hung low
Just waiting for the next hurting blow
How can I explain the pain wont last
you need to look up and forget the past
I sit and watch the pain on your face
wishing I could just take your place
When I see that you are in despair
and that you really don't even care
I remember you up in that tree
peeking through so you can see me
It seems as though clouds block your view
you think that nobody cares or loves you
But my child you see I have loved you since before you were born
but I truly can see how you are torn
But listen to me child this is only a part
You have your whole life ahead
this is just a small start
If you believe in yourself half as much as I believe in you
you could see through the clouds there is so much left to do
What is it child you are hiding from
Reach Out Reach Out and grasp for the sun
The world awaits for you to explore
all you need to do is open that door
Now climb down child into my open arms
I cannot shield you from the worlds harm
What I can offer is to cradle you like when you were small
Let God raise you up so you can stand tall
I cherish the times I see you smile
I haven't seen that in awhile
They say you have to accept the things you cannot change
i just have no idea how to re-arrange
the way my heart hurts while when you are in pain
I know your potential and what you have to gain
So please my child raise your head high
uplift your arms up to the sky
Please tell your mom you will be ok
that you can see the light of a brand new day
Just close your eyes and see me
standing there under the big willow tree
Ready to catch you if you may fall
praying to God you can just stand tall
Just face your fears that's all you can do
and remember I will always love you
I might not be the mom of the year
but know my child I will always be here
Now come my child pull yourself out of those clouds
when you do we will all be so proud
Happy is what we want you to be
as you are up there in that big Willow tree
look down look down and your loved ones you will see......
I can select scant options
available among figurative
menu of life (mine) case in
point, this ordinary day (July
10th, 2019) typifies small
number routine prospects
regarding how I will while
away hours, cuz restrictions -
circumscribed, linkedin,
predicated by sought hade
curried parameters incorporating
genetic propensities inscribing
mental, physical, and spiritual
potential random talents bestowed
upon yours truly in tandem
with environmental factors
during childhood (upbringing,
middle class household income,
homogeneous Caucasian
neighborhood...), plus outcomes
wrought by countless decisions
(unfortunately usually, lapsed
deadline determinant and/or
nonpositive avoidance behavior -
identified as passive aggression
by mother dearest, she passed
away 14+ years), since...tender
boyhood age, when volition
allowed, enabled, and provided
restrained freedom (limited by
parental approval until arbitrary
18th birthday), thus this moment
essentially represents rapid
flowing confluence regarding
cumulative outcomes, whereby
nexus (Lexus) of one outcome
determined possibilities for next
situation till present, which
narrow bounds straitjacketed
alternatives to utilize liberty
productively, i.e. cultivating
strengths finding this garden
variety baby boomer (crying
the blues) frittering time courtesy
non beneficial trivial pursuits,
which tellingly (no surprise)
did not bring happiness to this
life, where loose analogy being
imprisoned since essentially
majority (default) actions not
serve best interests (mine),
though recently conscious
proactive effort to hone writing
bred thru existence as bookworm.
I conclude non jarringly tipping
figurative hat to Fiona Apple,
The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than
the Driver of the Screw and
Whipping Cords Will Serve You
More Than Ropes Will Ever Do.
For a science fair in high school when I was a freshman,
I constructed what could have become an atomic bomb,
the only missing ingredient was plutonium.
"I made this," I said to everybody,
"I constructed this device very easily.
Imagine the potential of someone much more educated than me,
but take that a step further, imagine if they were angry."
I dropped out of high school thereafter shortly,
and graduated from The University of The State of NY with a GED.
Oh, and my science project was seized by my local police.
No charges were filed against yours truly,
but I left both the police and all at the science fair in a state of disbelief,
and needless to say, my parents grounded me.
Why do you always forgive
and invite me back home?
Why do I respond to my Prodigal Son
with prodigious love?
I guess.
Because we share an Older RightBrain Stem,
right down into our DNA-drenched bone marrow,
that always feels cooperatively drawn toward trust,
and dissonantly struggles
with competitive Me-Win v We-Lose compromises
with how ecological NotSelf
and ego-logical Self would prodigiously thrive
if we all could remember
we all have been the Prodigal Child,
if only in our rebellious imaginations
And we all have potential to be Prodigious Elders,
not choosing between
growing natural health
and starving familial wealth.
Like wanting your LeftBrain logical wellness cake
while RightBrain eco-dislogically over-eating it too.
Said like a Win/Win
prodigiously thoughtful
prodigally intuitive
neurosystemically wise Elder.
I guess,
for the best.
Prodigiously.
Appreciate your reunion invite
but this annoyingly prolific habit,
always needing the last polysyllabic word ,
continues driving me prodigally away.
What can I less prodigiously say
to help you feel better
about this run-away compulsion
of mine?
Preferably,
and parabolically,
nothing.
DEVOID OF INSPIRATION
Now running through phase of no inspiration,
Yet holding high spirited heart,
and owning placid potential power.
Feeling dynamism even in still static stagnant state.
Though:
Activities are shrunk
Desires are drunk
Achievements turned junk.
Spending indolent idle colorless days.
No turbulence.
Precious time rolling in monotonous tone.
Only excitement left in interaction
with sweet little granddaughter
staying abroad meeting me on skype
once a week,
but bestowing best boost and bringing bliss
to a lone life.
I overcome full fatigue and weakness
becoming refreshed attaining vigor.
I welcome next week.
10/ 05/ 20
Third Place
'When There Is No Inspiration' Contest by Silent One
First Place
' A Brian Strand Your Choice'
Contest by Brian Strand
Written: August 25, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Quote: “The words ‘I Am’ are powerful. Whatever you attach to them has the potential to become your reality.” By Wayne Dyer
***********
Line of inquiry:
“a heartbeat pulsating as living light
free from each and every limitation
I Am that dwelling in unbound delight
the source wherefrom arises creation”
***********
I am the pulse no hand of time can bind,
The lucid light that kindles from within;
Wild by beginnings, inviolate mind,
Where all genesis rise, and all begin.
I am the breath beneath zephyr of things,
The stillness from which every motion came;
No fetter holds the pinion of my wings,
No mortal epithet confines my name.
I am the aether where the stars are sown,
The fecund dark that flowers into flame;
The hidden source where every form is known,
A sacred fire no mortal hand can tame.
Before all words, will hummed in aether light,
Ouroboros, I am the deathless breath;
A fruitful cauldron kindled into sight,
I sunder every chain that leads to death.
Velleity—a wish too weak to climb,
I sustain saudade for a home unseen;
I doubt the dark, the light, the future time,
and long for what is gone, or might have been.
It waits, a delitescent, dormant seed,
I find the I AM in the kettle-song;
Then bursts to lucent noon—a sudden need,
In grass that lifts the stone and endures strong.
Let thanatopsis have its honest say:
We are caducity, we fall as leaves.
We meet the autumn on a shorter day,
So gold, so loud, yet nobody here grieves.
We sink to earth without a sigh or tear,
To sleep in peace and wait another year.
If you rigged this evolutionary Game of Life
as if it were Win/Win Polyculturally Universal
Yang/Yintegral Love/Love
defaulted,
[so LoveSelf = LoveOther is
InteriorMind Ego = ExteriorBody EcoEarthTribe
Not SelfIdentity = NotSelf SpaceTime-Yintegral Other
/Yang EgoSpace]
then wouldn't you tend to think of life
as a (0)-soul-Zen Basic Attendance
polymath buddha-path
Timeless ego-as-eco-holon
Earth WuWay
co-inviting all bipartisan Me/We participants
to arrive at our Climax of EcoConsciousness Advent
together
BiCamerally co-arising,
rather like uncovering that last turned-upsidedown card
in a global game of solitaire
with a fully optimized Win/Win ReSolution,
when you suddenly comprehend
"We have won!"
because each card won a true=Win placement position
allowing us to line up all our win/win pursuits
and communication frames
and interdependent paradigms
As if with full intent and will
of each co-informing card
regenerating positive order
from what appeared to be negatively random chaos.
No humane card can win alone,
like trying to clap with one hand
But,
in right relationship with a full systemic deck,
each win/win strategic choice
will declare positive potential
within a Beloved Cooperative Experiencde!
(at last...at last...our co-empathic time turns!)
But only as all racing species resolve and resonate,
co-emerge our win/win Adventure
co-revolving Ego/Eco bilateral solidarity
Global WeMind
as one EarthTribe
of CoOperative MeBody,
authentically enlightened
empowering ego/eco-integrity.