Long Purposeless Poems
Long Purposeless Poems. Below are the most popular long Purposeless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Purposeless poems by poem length and keyword.
Absent Motility Against Staid Inertia
impossible to describe listlessness
bedeviling this body electric aye attest
motivation to counter glumness
seizes motility temporarily
to stave off staid purposeless at best,
yet aware poetic obfuscation chest
barely delineates fierce hopelessness
assailing me,
when'r awake and/or at everest
feeding melancholy feedback loop
sparring against faintest
momentum - writhing psyche,
asper an unwelcome guest
emotional friction
bringing motionlessness,
where lunging futility
summoning ability
to muster joie de vivre
defeated willpower
no matter mental health
propped up
with pharmacological medications
prescribed by Doctor George Adams be hest,
yet tis NOT suicide, but general malaise
as if poison (or stung by a scorpion) jest
permeates thy being
sparking existential angst
hoop fully communicating figurative soffits
facilitating emotional bulwark lest
ye coon sitter
this lix spittled chap messed
up in the head, but also that empty nest
syndrome - a bird den, and nefarious pest
disallowing merrily rowing my boat
subjected to turbulence that doth wrinkle
space/time continuum quest
punctuating any attempt
to take fig yurt heave Newtonian rest
without being assailed
of drab quotidian predictability
re: envious papa
towards daughters adventurous lives
he rejoices (albeit vicariously)
respective lives where offspring lasso lassitude,
viz both their electric kool aid acid test
how fate didst in vest
waning wily woebegone zest!
Divorce robbed him of surprise,
left him disused,
parts of his brain tingled less,
he grew blasé, he had to improvise,
extemporize parts
that were less prone to rust and mold.
It seemed he was a bare broom,
one that could no longer sweep away
a rising sense of purposeless.
Then it was that a new surprise found him,
he began to make yesteryear trinkets
knickknacks held together
with a duct-taped nostalgia.
Walking sticks and old-school picket fences
were carved from the bones of his memory.
Other doohickeys such as
paperweights for light-headed ideas,
or knickknacks to fill in
those awkward holes in people’s lives.
Success returned, so did a new wife.
She had a lever, a jack,
to hydraulicly lift him up
when he occasionally sagged.
She used superglue on all his loose bits.
It’s wonderful what a new lick of paint can do.
An equal share of victory and defeat...
greeting happiness, summoning sadness!
An equal share of victory and defeat...
rejoicing in light, trembling in darkness!
How we live and age depends on circumstance and time...
an equal share of victory and defeat!
Youth is pure glory when the body is not weak...
an equal share of victory and defeat!
Before sixty we were vibrant, now frail and ready to die...
an equal share of victory and defeat!
An equal share of victory and defeat...
greeting happiness, summoning sadness!
An equal share of victory and defeat...
rejoicing in light, trembling in darkness!
Taste rain and feel sunshine, ignore wrinkles, age spots and such...
an equal share of victory and defeat!
Leave gold and everything behind, it's troublesome for the rich...
an equal share of victory and defeat!
Have we lived fearlessly or covered by a sheet?
An equal share of victory and defeat!
An equal share of victory and defeat...
greeting happiness, summoning sadness!
An equal share of victory and defeat...
rejoicing in light, trembling in darkness!
What we accomplish through life remains bright or bleak...
an equal share of victory and defeat!
Gray hair means wisdom, neglect the puffiness under the eyes...
an equal share of victory and defeat!
We came into existence to lead meaningful, not purposeless lives...
an equal share of victory and defeat!
An equal share of victory and defeat...
greeting happiness, summoning sadness!
An equal share of victory and defeat...
rejoicing in light, trembling in darkness!
EMPTY NEST
Home ! My own sweet home, once I possessed
where for my children, seeds of love were sown.
Family tree was grown with my emotive urge
surging in opulence
on love, care, affection and dedication.
Song of life sung in perfect interlude.
Each step of their childhood was enjoyed by me.
Raising up children was my priority,
No confusion, absolute certitude.
My earnest effort gifted reward.
Feeling proud on their achievement
which seemed more precious than my own success.
Now they have own homes building individual career.
My home has turned a house just sheltering me.
Young birds have left my cosy nest to explore life.
I still stay in same old address, same house
but being barren, loner and homeless.
Lost all colours but to drag purposeless
life in last phase.
04/29/23
Empty Nest
Contest by Cooper Etheridge
Penuriousness long did acquaint
yours truly, who feels loath
to lodge complaint
regarding series of unfortunate events
(Lemony Snicket be damned)
imposed monetary constraint,
now aghast with horror
(ain't no trick),
I unwittingly did faint,
only negative indebted interest accrues,
now if ever mister money bags I haint,
no gainsay purposelessness
to air principal plaint,
yet to fulfill personal daily quota
regarding poem writing
subliminally eases restraint
prompting good samaritan
deeds subsequent anointed saint
homelessness looms around
the corner crimping psyche
argh mental health depressed
courtesy poverty doth taint.
Seriously folks (especially Bugs Bunny),
I best coon sitter
turning over new leaf versus "fake"
gilded pretense success and posthumous
famous author doth leave me awake
nsync courtesy restless leg syndrome
shakes bed (lamb - spouse) like earthquake,
whereby thwack with her elbow
finds broken rib cage, when thus spake
Zarathustra bidding me to branch off
and leave writing... say kickstart
panhandling as faux grubstake
with global warming...
formerly deeply buried
untold bajillion dollars free,
for taking, thus best not forsake
golden, silver, bronze... opportunity
analogously swimming within monied lake,
or accumulate stash tall as Taj Mahal
and/or Trump Tower livingsocial footloose
and fancy free gourmandizing
till I resemble Mar-a-lago sized beefcake
recklessly splurging penny wise
and pound foolish
proudly arrogantly boasting
what cutthroat tactics can accomplish,
hmm... perhaps contemplating
on whim purchasing Greenland
for a song (infringing,
extracting, bilking... copyrights) swish
goes signature scribble to abolish
purposeless law meant as hedge
to sideline ruthless machiavellian brash
art of the deal done courtesy genius
eh... so what if the global
financial market doth crash, viz fillet of fish?
I am worried
I am in despair
I am tensed
I am in low spirits
My song sounded melancholic
My thought turned pessimistic
My emotion became lifeless
My life seemed purposeless
My heart lost its rhythm
Cold shivers rippled my blood
My pulse missed its beat
Vacuum nested every nerve of my head.
I started my journey from somewhere to reach nowhere
I found myself toiling in the sands of dreary nightmare
I continued my cruise on the shoreless ocean
Searching for a home in an unknown destination
Life seemed to be a battlefield and I transformed into a weaponless warrior
Fighting with an unknown enemy for a mysterious reason
Tears were racing with the valley of blood
Anguish supplanted the graveness of a flash flood
Having fed with very little hope of survival
I gravely waited for the life's arrival.
Sailing unchaperoned in the gigantic world,
I realised that life is a personalized game and the triumph embosoms the unflinching souls.
breast cancer runs rampant within me late mother side
whar moost every female diagnosed with emotional ride
into the depths of despair where metastatic cells pried
their way into the appendages whar din o suckling provide
did initial sustenance prior to malignant growth lied
Innocuously within fleshy tissue til oncologist could not hide
Truth from females that birthed and availed motherly guide
among most ever Harris heiress, whence treatment fried
will power to live (I can only imagine) as rogue growth did elide
as nemesis to body politick where no boxes of tissues dried
the river of tears when such news shell shocked me – I cried
for indiscriminate injustice whence fate snatched me father’s bride
shunting any trivial tit for tat resentments re: grudges aside.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
no other priority but being alive matters when surgeon knife
for malignant curse forces impending mortals to value life
purposeless double mastectomy performed when invisible mass rife
with errant duty to destroy sense and sensibility commanding strife
whether circumstance involved me eldest sister (still alive) or the late wife.
me octogenarian widower father summoned breastworks when last breath
o me long deceased mother – vehemently opposed being sentenced to death
no matter visualization practiced – such as furiously swapping with broom
who truthfully cursed with ovarian cancer, which spelt her actual doom
an unstoppable toxic brew within her being that coursed as meandering flume
Time elapsed, yet still difficult to espy wedding pictures with handsome groom
that would be my 20 plus year old father unbeknownst ill fate would loom
occupying cellular wall street where awry growth jostled for room
a harbinger of lifelessness, whereby she chose creation versus burial in a tomb
many fifty odd decades after my youngest sister exited the womb!
by: matthew scott harris
CROSSROADS
Several crossroads are intersecting on paths of life.
You are bound to stop at crossing
obeying Red signal
of danger or dismal
or conflict critical.
Waiting eager with zeal and vigor
aiming ambition flickering on Amber glow
turning Green seemed to be clean.
Proceed prompt being keen
on exuberant ecstasy expecting at least to achieve
what you deserve
or hoping a miracle to be reserved for you!
Yet journey is hazard, haphazard.
Hardly haply happy happenstances.
Random occurrences bearing no balance
Puzzling perplexing maze hard to cross periphery.
Purposeless tour in a closed contour,
putting again at confusing crossing of crossroads.
09/17/19
Third Place
'CROSSROADS' contest by Silent One.
HM
'BRIAN'S CHOICE 2' Contest by Brian Strand
‘Alas ! My heart had to leave its treasures at sides of path of Life to end
at ‘ Death’. - Poet
In last phase decrepit heart to mourn.
All achievements turned obsolete.
Once seeds of confidence were sown.
Now strength of mind is deleted.
No time to rectify mistakes.
In last phase decrepit heart to mourn
Burnt desires to fly in ash flakes.
Only despondency is shown.
In senile decay hope is blown.
Purposeless life to drag in vain.
In last phase decrepit heart to mourn.
No bonding left, nothing to gain.
Case for my ‘LIFE ‘ is still pending -
My ‘TIME’ is up ! Court is adjourned.
Life to meet obvious ending.
In last phase decrepit heart to mourn.
A thorn that needles in a rose
Is while it’s true we cleave as one
We also cleave apart.
No sooner do we struggle to
Share any meaning of our minds,
We say goodnight among the stars.
Our words and hands so purposeless,
Among a travesty of trees.
A thorn that nestles in a rose
Is while it’s true we cleave as one
We also cleave apart.
No sooner do we struggle to
The very knife quick cut of love,
We fall our separate ways.
Our arms and legs so purposeless
Among our sighs and smell of salt.
A thorn that nettles in a rose
Is while it’s true we cleave as one
We also cleave apart.
No sooner do we struggle to
Survive each other by alive,
At different times we die alone.
Our skin and eyes so purposeless
Not even see or to be seen.