Long Protrudes Poems
Long Protrudes Poems. Below are the most popular long Protrudes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Protrudes poems by poem length and keyword.
watching silently as the ground is disturbed, unearthed
the simple act of digging a hole captives my attention
shovelling multitudes of mixed emotions upon my heart
reaching fingers to let the sands flow slowly through them
life blood seeping, fertilizing soil, and yet draining emotion
innocence disappears from within me, soul lost and confused
strange a farmer digs a hole, raising such usefulness from within,
to feed and nurture, life wondrously cultivated
a young child digs a hole and places seeds of both real and imaginary,
from the real flourish flowers of such incredible beauty
the imaginary grow into dreams of color, rainbows of the future,
where all is possible and the thrill is in the mystery, yet unblossomed
others dig holes to build, the foundations of houses,
a future of the everyday, of need and want,
places where dreams are housed in security, waiting
then there are the holes that are dug for treasure,
to seek and search, to yearn for treasures to enrich our lives,
to provide more than we have or really need
holes dug to find clues from the past, to enlighten us,
illuminating the future
holes, simple mounds of earth, yet the reasons are as big as mountains
holes in ones mind are opened, to allow possibilities,
yet to escape reality
the duality of a hole, to allow truth and yet to escape from it
when need arises
the heart has many holes, wounds left flayed wide open from lost love,
holes from inferiority, abuse, and the constant pounding of thoughts
callous and calculating, cold and unfeeling, the heart is one large hole,
filled to capacity with the emotions of our lives,
I stand now beside this freshly dug hole of blackened earth,
where no life now protrudes
where all future is lost, aspirations gone, no hope of the new,
the rich or the beautiful
as the ebony casket is lowered into this hole,
all that remains is finality
loss, surrendered lifeless into the earth and I wonder why,
there is no escape
bringer of life and yet taker of the ended, life and future returned
mystery unveiled, unravelled, mystery no more,
now just a hole in the ground once again
Hmm... on second thought
lemme join anorexic club
until rib cage protrudes taut and visible
doubling as drum to drub
synchronized within heart of darkness,
especially when electrocardiogram exhibits
absolute zero vital sign,
cardiac arrest translates
as cessation to lub dub,
hence yours truly
declared dead as doornail,
coroner report deems arrhythmia
directly linkedin to deliberate Machiavellian flub
courtesy the missus attempt to poison me
actually aborted cuz nanobots
loosed upon body gripped with rigor mortis,
a minor inconvenient truth
cuz odorless and tasteless deadly toxins
rendered me convalescing
from bout with death, an oxymoronic
former slenderman gourmand.
temporarily deceased
until said microscopic robots
avidly analogous to frenzied
figuratively hogtied pigs
buzzfeeding at a trough
creating porcine hubbub
invisible nanoids (0.1-10 micrometres)
accomplished programmed task
whereby fatal microbes they did scrub
away leaving me fit as a fiddle.
No matter she thoroughly, painstakingly
and lovingly didst strew
haphazardly she threw
leftovers together,
this blustery march like
November twenty six figuratively view
wing the remaining thirty plus days
of two thousand twenty one
thoroughly cooked in microwave until...
poor excuse for my meal appeared
with consistency of shoe leather.
Think the missus not afraid
of Virginia Woolf keen to experiment
treating me like the Gingerbread Hag would:
questionable resultant glop pantomimed
for my guessing pleasure
never figure out in bajillion years
as amateurish Marcel Marceau charade
performance courtesy the spouse,
an entrée she gave - yours truly
immediately sought to evade
me subsequently evincing
horrific puckered mealy mouth
as though I swallowed hand grenade
figurative exploding oral cavity
feeble futile gesticulation inveighed.
Sound the sirens, tell them to bring oxygen in their company
I'm overdosing on apathy, forcefully devouring justified anger
Sound the alarm, I'm just a volcano waiting to blow
I can't bury my head in sleep
the world has ordered all beds made of steel
my head full of lead
a magnet to the floor but a consistent bell nailed to the door
I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!
In the monologue I've written for myself
the phrase that protrudes the most
yet the ears it needs to pierce
go on about their day while I bear the brunt of my words
in my blistered littered feet
shackles on my ankles
if they didn't want me to walk, they've been better off
taking a butcher knife to the shins
so I'd never talk again
but leave it to me to call it all my fault
embrace the flaws, force a smile
say I understand when I may
still not excusing the fact
that it's been my face on target they've been shooting darts at
numbering the days 'till I leave
If I go down, I'm going down in handcuffs
It's been four months shy of a year
sound the sirens cause I'm throwing merchandise
sound the sirens cause I'm knocking over shelves
sound the sirens cause I'm shouting 'till my lungs collapse from aggravation
call the ambulance, call the ambulance, CALL THE AMBULANCE!
I've caught the case of American Blues
I've caught the case of Ambulance Anxiety
because I can't excuse how this corporate society plan
has me by the throat, a death grip
I could transform into a masked vigilante
in full bat-like attire, fight my way out but beneath the mask
I'd be the same villain I'm fighting against
so who am I really fighting
Corporations or poverty?
Don't listen to me, don't take this to heart
who am I kidding
just raise your fist in agreement
if you're suffering from the Ambulance Anxiety of American Blues
an employee who's just had enough of their job too
3am
The rest of the world was asleep
While your mind on the other hand, never is
You occupied it
with inhale of your beloved Mary Jane
I study every smoke cloud that leaves your body
As that same dumb couple argues on TV
when will they learn I ask myself
Suddenly I felt the weight
Of the bed shift
A cold bony hand
Grabs my shoulder
Felt my flannel slowly sliding off my back
And without hesitation
I fall into the comfort of your touch
Your breathing becomes scattered
As I trace every single rib
that protrudes your dull skin
Dirty nails
make its way up my chest
And around my neck
Which is accompanied
By your chapped lips
Maybe we're both wrong I thought
As the adrenaline and sweat leave my body
I placed my body next to yours
Under the blue covers
You casually turn your back
So all I see is your silhouette
I did the same
As the couple on TV made up again
I stare into the dark room
Conscious of every sound
Every movement you make
Which forces me to catch my breath
For I hope
You finally decide to hold me
6:50am
It came around
Just as I started to close my eyes
Felt the bed shift again
And the urge to sleep
Suddenly disappears
Your mother left for work
While your presence left me
I roll over to see you up
Already saying good morning
To Mary Jane
I pick up my clothes
that slept on the floor
And I head downstairs to leave
I went to grab the door
To the garage
I turn the knob slightly
And look back up the stairs
You weren't there
you never are
But you'll make the time
To call at 2am
On a weekday
And impulsively
I'm leaving my twin bed
and climbing under your blue covers
sometimes I feel like I've forgotten how to breathe. like the air cycling through my body suddenly stands still. a dark fog protrudes from beneath the surface of my soul, slowly extending its tendrils to spread its influence to each crevice of my body. it seeks entry in a point of weakness, taking hold and not letting go. it starts at my chest, slithering through my heart and then moving down towards my stomach, weaving its sludge between my intestines. then it goes towards my lungs, wrapping around them and squeezing; the air capacity stands still but it feels like its sinking. the void continues, swallowing my control in its path. it wraps its arms around my throat while penetrating my esophagus, wriggling into my brain. the pain is indescribable, but no one sees it. this foggy, slimy, black hole consuming me from the inside. my thoughts become jumbled, a panicked tv static holding words that I cant make out. I scream out in agony, terrified and confused. I cant understand anything. im being suffocated and invaded as the void consumes each part of my mind, my safe place, one by one. I know no words, no future, no life, just pain.
sometimes I feel like the ability to breathe has been stolen from me, like death is the only way to regain control of any aspect of myself. the only way to stop the pain.
sometimes I just need to remember how to breathe again.
i open my chest and remind myself to breathe again
to breathe when there is no air
to breathe when i feel i am no longer able
i turn my pain to strength and push it through my lungs
i breathe so hard i kill myself
to breathe again
One September morn, Barry is born, one day a little man that society will chastises every day, poisoned with dour memories of a life passing, staggers habitually along life’s broad way, yet still, he believes an ardent player of this earthly cast.
the mould human kind
every one naked the same
circumstance fate plays
One September morn Larry is born not a volunteer, into this place, no developing embryo given a democratic choice, but oh the joy the accolades, freedom of youth rampart significant, carte blanche credit card.
silver spoon protrudes
freewheeling society
so much to tire of
An unknown purpose aided each step, for Barry with holdall and worldly baggage around his neck, whilst trying to escape societies goals and social orders, life’s hypocrisy filed against this frail oppressed old man, living with a menial existence inside prejudiced borders.
daunting are the nights
beneath a blanket of fog
soul destroying dawns
Here Larry the mellow fellow who toast, boast every night drunk with his host, cocaine his specialty, whilst trying to escape societies goals and social orders, now his empire has closed the high life exposed a hobo a bench a lamppost his only light.
Barry and Larry
mix for the first time at the...
crematorium.
Entered 2022 Poetry marathon Mile 20
sponsor Mark Toney 12/11/2022
written 2021
The passionate...pulsating rhythm,
Of your tasty...temple of doom.
Pounds a pummeling throb,
While hunting for buried treasure.
A lustrous...look like acid rain,
A hopeful...heart, a buried jewel.
My whip...willingly...whips,
A love escapade unwinds.
I raid your beautiful...body
Looking for the lost ark in the dark.
Erotic...exploration begins;
I explore a deeper crevice.
Solely...searching a secret tunnel,
Investigating, probing, and panting,
In the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
With my trusty archeological tool.
Hot wax poured...sizzling burns
The crimson scented wax streams
On this secret quest for love,
A stimulating last crusade.
Drops of salty...sweat
Bead from my fatigued...face
Dripping into the abyss of covers
And on the glistening skin.
Contrast: hitting the shiny...skin
The splash sound...is amplified.
A magnified grimace of pleasure
Protrudes the dark silhouette.
Steamy...lava skin yearns,
For a cool touch to extinguish
The heat of human friction while
Luscious...lips call out Dr. Jones.
____________________________
*Posted for an anonymous request
To write more free verse...
The day seems long
the night longer
waiting
in treacle time,
oozing hours
drip molasses minutes,
toffee apple sticky seconds.
The peculator coffee hisses
as I sit reading the newpaper,
the mechanical clock strikes
midnight in heavy chimes
that drag night, spawning morn
in fevered uncertainty,
the dense jade air sounds
almost silent as I look into darkness...
yet a faint secret noise noses
its way outside, rustling close,
as I empty bins in blackness,
the torch freezes a ball
of prickly protected flesh
but a delicate pink nose protrudes,
each flecked quill shimmers
when the ray's amber eye highlights
its shade of brown and ebony,
I pick up a shed quill
as I return, the moonlight
silvers my desk and hand.
I ink the jet eyes shining
from secret fur,
see the soft tender paw prints
pressing on paper
imagine the barely perceptible
progress of words on velum,
I sense the rich aroma of stale bread,
the moist soil between toes,
my warm underbelly beneath
a canopy of sharp spikes,
the clock has stopped
dawn passes in a moment
pop paper into the desk's dark
burrow, buried deep within
then move limbs from the wooden seat,
shaking pins and needles from a dead leg
crawl to bed alone,
and sleep
There is fear in that which I grow to see,
The sharp sight of my eyes becoming keen,
And they cut,
Cut down to bone and bare means,
Shred and tear into basic things,
Softly subtle while spoken unseen,
Shredding new relentless rents mercilessly,
Justice-less judgments of tampered glass,
Nothing within vision can garner pass,
As protrudes from the victim in the view
Is ghastly and wry strings of both heart and mind,
Wiry tassels waiting to be taken,
Tempting endless me to be tempted,
To pull on these simple strings,
A tug to me simple and unseen but by we,
We who invent these means these simple strings,
Your being left to be brought and bid,
Broken or baked, mashed or unmade,
Gasp at the grip that holds gain,
It is none but your bane,
You shapeless such shall be recreated,
Strings of subtle lines to be refined into
New designs morphing at wills of mine through time,
Your river-way veins will pulse in my name,
Beat of drums themed to my rhythm and tune,
Curse of intimate gain undefined by moral signs,
Your healthy bones should not crack
Under weight of personal vibrations,
But curse of age and saying has it seen,
Abuse intention irreverent,
As I pull I am pulled,
Heart and mind,
Just made to be pulled,
In this life like weeds.
Silent in the darkness of each breath..inhaling this air we feed to the lungs within the beast of our inner torment, Ever cautious ever alert our presence creeps across the meadow as the mist protrudes from around us.. If only this demon could be sworn off, killed and defeated, left and feeling nothing to suffer in its own mindlessness, Yet we stand as it rips, tears and grows within us.. Changing our souls for everything it was once worth to something it turns into pure hate in a nightmare of a world, If we can't be ourselves...Then who can we truly be, We walk a fine line as the edge slips away from us we stumble to find ourselves within fighting off this beast...nothing we can do....nothing anyone can do...less we kill off the demon with the blade of our pure selves ripping its heart out and feeding it to our gorge of an abyss, If we can't be ourselves..then why try to be anything at all....haha..you will never be anything of any worth till you fend off the one thing that binds you to your own hate..your anger merely feeds it giving it strength as it grows within you, Stay strong and make the demon bleed...there's no rest for the wicked things that linger in your lives.