Long Release Poems
Long Release Poems. Below are the most popular long Release by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Release poems by poem length and keyword.
The mind is an amazing key
With the right guidance words will trigger memories
From anger and rage to double personalities
Emotions will rise like the oceans tides
Your muscles will twitch with every cellular connection
Hurt, denial abandonment too
Like a looking glass into the past everything is a reflection of you
And not everything you see will be rosy and clean
Tears and overwhelming fears our bodies remember the slightest infraction
Our habits and beliefs play a major role too
Pain and suffering are a big part of what makes us do the things that we do
Without remorse or a second thought we push things to the back of our minds
But all through our lives we can feel something is just not right
We search for those answers like a child playing hide and seek
Sometimes we will get hints and images to help us remember and think
We’ll catch a glimpse from another life as it rises to the top
Like the coming attractions of new movies your mind plays them through the night
You’ll see your kids, wife and family but as soon as you zoom in to see you
Everything fades to white and suddenly your heart starts beating faster
All the rage and anger start rising up again
Each memory triggers another memory it’s a never ending process
And it’s not an easy path however when you consider the alternative
And you look at the life you have so far lead it is kind of like neo in the Matrix
Once you take that pill there is no going back.
You realize the program you’ve been following has been sabotaging you since birth
It’s a negative dysfunction that only supports your inevitable destruction
Debilitating thoughts that are is still playing from long, long ago
These idea’s became part of your core belief and it’s time to let them go!!..
Abusing yourself no longer serves you its time to learn how to heal
Gently open up your heart and allow people to help you feel
As I read my own words I envision a group of healers circling me with compassion
Each one in the there own way helping me to release these toxic fears
I’ve been poisoned by my own family from generation to generation
And I fought for years to stay positive but their abusive habits still affected me deeply
through their yelling, screaming and verbal attacks that numbed me in my years
I am uncertain what saved me but it could’ve been that angel I’d seen holding me dear
Form:
Revelations of the Spirit!
Good things are known to come to those who come before their God,
who praise release from earthly woes by celebrating days
of spilling sperm (that meets its end or egg that sparks new life),
creation’s spark has pitched its tent in place of excrement.
“Both fair and foul are next of kin” (1) (if I might paraphrase
some words Jane speaks), with grave and bed compared, noblesse oblige
for those less traveled in this world! What Bishop knows a wife
(excuse)? The pleasures of the flesh called sin (despite intent)
by those who bow to Popes, to Satan’s spawn! A privilege
that they don’t practice! When they think, think those who do so odd!
Will Jane find love although her breasts have grown quite flat with time,
(though proud priests say she’s ignorant of things that matter most)?
I think she will, though dark days come and time eclipses all!
What Nature IS, what Nurtures man, is not his providence,
nor can we think to save ourselves, if God’s not real, we’re toast!
Is worth of self what Jane boasts of, the raptures of the mind?
Can body’s curves, a garment’s subtle wrap, how tresses fall,
boast they’re of what she speaks! Or lowliness her evidence
she matters? God’s grand scheme of things? Not judging (she’d call kind)!
Massaging rhythms vital, love for seasons, love of rhyme!
Long Tooth
1st of September in 2020
Poet’s Notes:
(1) One of my favorite poems by William Butler Yeats
Crazy Jane Talks with the Bishop
I met the Bishop on the road / And much said he and I.
‘Those breasts are flat and fallen now / Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion, / Not in some foul sty.’
‘Fair and foul are near of kin, / And fair needs foul,’ I cried.
‘My friends are gone, but that’s a truth / nor grave nor bed denied,
Learned in bodily lowliness / And in the heart’s pride.’
‘A woman can be proud and stiff / When on love intent;
But love has pitched his mansion in / The place of excrement;
For Nothing can be sole or whole / That has not been rent.’
*
*
Does anyone want to comment or have thoughts about why Yeats would be so
cavalier about meter in the last two lines of each stanza, even the 1st line of the second stanza when 'Both fair and foul..' would be such an easy fix! It seems hard to believe that he is deliberately sloppy. What is his purpose here?
Open Letter to you,
MY LOVELY HATE SPEECH
I hate my speech today, yesterday and the day dust rises.
I was there opening my eyes carelessly, smiling like an idiot
I was gazing shamelessly, walking like an idler without course
Little did I notice my vehicle lose direction; little did I notice my head bleeding
I was just there; the settled dust rising, tables turning, grenades and bullets are now apples
Little did I know the power in my lovely hate speech.
What pride did we get after slaughtering fellow Kenyans like goats,
What are the stuttering rifles rattling about, are humans turning game,
What are the grenades doing in civilian pockets, are they keys
Why are the churches burning, you cannot tell me tis the holy ghost fire,
What has that neighbour done, why is that policeman lying there,
Why is no body answering me, am I alone, or are you wondering too
Should I assess the power in my lovely hate speech, am concerned.
My love speech I hate you, my hate speech I love you
Both speeches are one, are the same, of same taste, I hate my passion for you
I love my fellow politician, i love his dirge during my friend’s burial
You bleeding mammoth my friend, I like your corrupt tummy
You scavenger of your own carcass, I like your greed for power
You megalomaniac virus of a beloved country, we love you, let us be
Little do we know death will let you release us, How uncertain are we of you.
My eyes are full of your ocean, the palace you exhume immorality
My ears are preoccupied with your desert, the desert devoid of trust, and the just
My nostrils have your pungent infamy, your callous greed, your everything
My mind can’t decipher the thought of your sanity, your policies and you
You make me lose taste, you make me look like you, you make me you
I am youthful to the economy, i am youthful to the wise, am not youthful to your “youth”
Little do i know death will let you release me, How uncertain am i of you.
Am talking about you, what have i said about me? What?
I hope I know the promise in my Kenyan Anthem
I hope I have a plan of getting rid of the chaff, the you
I hope am not you, i hope you don’t like seeing me wise
I hope your son is listening, the son that wants my very own daughter
I hope am the government, the government of me, for me and by me
I hope i know peace, the peace am preaching, the peace you hate. I hope.
Yours Kenyan,
Mzee Emmanuel Mwau.
Infallible
I fall into the rain, beneath me;
My sky a glittery dust to thee,
Calling the joy I hath not met,
Thou cometh sweetly, but late.
I fall into the cold, and just me;
Only I understand the clouds,
Oh! I cannot seek that ‘tis so loud,
Too much noise, sickly around me!
Those fallen tears around my head;
The soundlessness of one’s fate,
And hark, in such quietness,
The decrepit being of hotness!
Those ragged stars about my hair;
Closing in on me, and my air,
With hues dyed in drowned sunshine,
But proud still, in its dried signs.
For such heat hath closed me;
Hath sifted me away from you.
For such guilt hath haunted me;
Hath kept me away anew.
For such a love, that thou felt;
But not yet felt again, today,
The gaze that I once beheld,
The words my heart cannot say.
Wherefore art thou, my beloved;
For t’is passion is tainted but pure,
To behold, to instill, to demure,
The meaning of this first love.
Wherefore art thou, my paint;
These poems hath not been said,
I see chaos, and not a flesh of fate,
I hath been loving in vain.
Wherefore art thou, my gaze;
Why cannot I see you through my face,
To hear such a bountiful voice,
To be about thee, in this bliss.
Wherefore art thou, my voyage;
I cannot stay this sober longer,
And hysteria, turning into sobs,
Like death, as my heart throbs.
Wherefore art thou, my colour;
Bestowed on thee my honour,
And age, with my fleeting skin,
Waiting in haste, to be seen.
Wherefore art thou, my winter;
Having too many doubts in summer,
Awaiting a lover that lasts,
By the moonlight and stardust.
Wherefore art thou, my rain;
And the sung that sings again,
To release my midnight, its pain—
To be my beloved, then.
Wherefore art thou, my kiss;
I can see your solemnity,
A thousand unsung melodies,
To bless, to make love to me;
Wherefore art thou, my art;
Too much of me is in my heart,
But none with a charm like thee,
Like the poet in fire, that in me.
Wherefore art thou, my sword;
I am bland now, and unheard,
Unheard as the rain that falls,
Amongst the sheltered walls.
Wherefore art thou, my piano;
The sound that arriveth late,
But not late to be my memento—
To remove all conscious hate.
Wherefore art thou, my word;
Improvised but reckless, my Lord,
Ah! Calm but poisonous, like me,
A fastidious silver, like thee.
I try to fight them, those cruel clawing cold hands
that drag me from the pit, clawing, twisting, crushing me.
I must find you! I need to hold you, to be held by you!
So I fight, desperately, to break free, to find you.
I try to fight them, even as the feel of the ropes upon my arms
burning ever deeper, into my skin
. I fight desperately, as the leather collar bites into my throat,
and my breath leaves me. I try to fight, savagely, desperately, to break free.
Knowing I can never escape, that I will fail,
and knowing full well, what fate awaits us both.
I know not where they have taken you, but I can still feel you,
can still hear your voice, as it softly speaks of love.
, It is how I know you are still alive,
and that knowledge gives me strength to fight on desperately.
My body is ravaged, torn, the horrors those cruel hands have dealt, have broken my very soul,
yet I try, desperately to fight. I long for release into the void,
yet I can still feel you, still hear your voice, still know your love.
I know not, where they will take me, until the wagon comes to a stop.
Then, for the first time in almost 16 days, your eyes are the first thing I see.
You are alive, and when your eyes finally find mine, you look with such love, at me.
So again, I fight! I fight so desperately, but those, horrible cruel hands,
tighten their vicious grip, once more.
I reach for you, needing your touch, sobbing your name.
The pain, almost forgotten, gone, almost instantly. I struggle, oh, how I fight!
And so, I didn’t see. I didn’t see the first of the blows, that spilled crimson onto the snow,
at my feet. I screamed for you. I screamed your name desperately
as I watched blow after blow rip your body to pieces, in front of me. Your blood turning the snow to slush, scarlet staining my feet. I watched your soul flee as I screamed for you,
as the fight poured out of me. I watched, as they defiled you.
I watched as they ripped your body apart. I felt your soul leave mine.
I watched, as the light of the sunrise left your eyes.
My soul broken, my body savaged, I crumbled to ashes, there in the snow, at your side.
The numbness that overtook me, did nothing to save me, that day. I can still taste your blood.
Goddess above, I still taste your blood! No, More!
No longer, will I bear this well of horror, and tears!
Goddess, help me! I am drowning in it!
Here I am standing on the milky way hoping that someone would come my way, I have been here for a thousand years with millions of stars stuffed up into my guts and the solar system with is unwinding rhythm orbiting the galaxy in the center of the mass and the dark matter is running around the town in a brand-new set of gowns.
Where they come from, I don’t know, but they are about to start a brand-new show; they are wearing alien skirts and blouse made out of purified dirt.
I see them coming in droves they are parachuting through the clouds, they are acting as if they have no feeling, and they are coming at a speed that will smash up your zeal and turn the planet into ashes and dirt.
The planet is running around with the sun and the mission is not yet done you have to go back in space and tie up the loose ends that are hanging from the heavens; they are three thousand light years away and they cannot connect with the beam to release the clogged-up steam.
The galaxies is sending a message to you, you must organize another mission in the sky to find the point before the beam dies; it will plunge the earth into darkness for a thousand years and the plants would die, and nothing will pass through the sky.
The galaxy is of three main types, and you have got to separate the spirals galaxy from the irregular's galaxy and the elliptical galaxy before the universe move.
You have to arrange another trip with Russia, Japan, China, India and America with Britain and Germany at the tip. You have to examine what is going on up there because I am seeing some strange image that is causing me to fear, is it digital manipulation or is its political frustration, whatever it is, it frightens every living creature to its core, and you have to keep asking for more.
Touch me if you can see me, touch me if you feel me. I don’t have to see the movement of your hands; I only have to feel the courage in your soul and the fire from the sun engraved in the center of your hand.
It can scan through any door and take you to the upper floor, this is my latest invention, and it can take me straight up to the sky without a nickel or dime.
Touch me if you can feel me, touch me and pass the energy around, touch me with the tip of your fingers and your long-awaited dreams will come through; just touch me and the universe will open the big door for you.
Into the buoyant blue of a summer sky
I throw my fortune and my hopes.
With wings and wonder I survey
the world above and need some time
up there before descending back to earth.
Advancing throttle up I climb, rocket
like and plumb, to check the heights
of clouds and skill, rolling left, then
right as in a dance, light
with release from gravity.
Before my plane escapes my vision, too, I guide
it over a graceful arch, until fast approaching
ground is all I see, and while succumbing
to the appetite of earth for things detached,
roll again and again in defiance, cutting
facets from the burnished blue.
Pushing hard to inverted flight, I see things
from a different point of view. Pressure
on the stick reminds me that up is down, and
I must concentrate to follow a horizontal path.
The Extra was made for this, I tell myself,
and brace for more.
Throwing sticks to the corner I force a snap. In a burst
of energy my wings become a blur. Like a wayward
child nose and tail go off track and need correction.
The stress on joints and structure is immense, yet
my plane obeys with no complaint, rebelling
only at my command to return wings level.
Like a metronome ticking over the rhythmic pounding
of my heart I count my way through a hammerhead:
“Throttle up and push, and, wait, and… release!
1 and 2 and roll and roll, and
1 and 2 and throttle back… rudder!”
The plane pauses in mid-air – a sentry in the sky - then pivots
on a point. Opposite aileron keeps me in a geometric plane,
and earthward bound once more I resume the beat:
“1 and 2 and roll: to canopy, and belly!
1 and 2 and push!”
The lines and arcs I draw through weather fair and foul
are my signature, the salient points of aerobatic discourse,
a test of nerves and steel, the embrace of fear.
Breaking through that wall, I emerge
free to explore the boundaries of my craft.
I must look beyond the attitude of pitch, roll and yaw
to see the art that I’m creating there
from the power and pull of wings through air.
Holding a precise line against the force
of Indiana winds or the vagaries of a Midwest storm,
with sunburned lips, lack of sleep or
a thousand other faults...
ah, there is the rub.
It is no easy thing, and still I try
to reach perfection, to control the direction
I will fly in that endless summer sky.
For one full year I have been thrown in the lion`s den
And the lion has been running and jumping
And pulling savagely at my leg
The philistines also surround me
with a hidden weapon dancing beneath me
And the church with all it`s hyprocrasy and
white hats barking down the hill
looked at me in dismay as I ran virougsly up the hill
If I am hungry no one knows, if I am sick no one knows
If I am sad, no one knows and when I am at peace with them
They throw tissue paper in my face and called me the Devil from hell
They call me names but I stand looking at them without shame
If only I could get through this day,
I would hold up my hands and say
This is just another day.
Yes this is just another day and you have
to embrace it before your heart goes astray
The meeting and the dealing
The cheating and the underlined feelings,
The signiture on top of the dollar
And the hour that dosn`t look proper
And when the day is done
This is the place where they shout Amen Alleluia
This is the place where the devil is enraged
My spirit is flaming inside me
And the birds are flying about me
Oh what profanity,
Oh what desolution when the windows of heaven breaks loose
And you have no one to bend down and lace your shoes
And when you cannot minister to my innate cry the earth will open
its guts and penetrate all the rust with the passing of time
I cannot release this welled up tears that has been
watering my eyes for over one year
It is the daily despositon that make me sigh and
the lack of understanding that they cannot deny
A gang of men and a pack of wolves speaking
above their voices with no vision or insight they
are just working daily for a bligh, and when
the evening is done they go to bed with saw dust on their front
I still cannot feel at peace here, and I will not live in fear
I am going to get up and just walk out of here
No finger to burn and no message to return
It feels like a wilderness surrounds me
And a fire is raging above me
And just around the bend,
It feels like the lion is grinding in the den
The month is coming to an end when
And I wish that the sorrows will go away
The day is absorbed in its own horror
And I wish for a better tomorrow
When knowledge will clothe the face
And wisdom will prevail over the race
Remove the covers off your face and strike
a deal before it is too late.
“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
~ Maya Angelou
Her smile is like the sunlight
Reflecting through the forest
Dancing with the leaves, across the hills
Whispering joyfully, kissing the stillness
With a kindness that is contagious
A kindness that the heart applauds
Kindness, an open door to the heart’s love
Her laughter is like the melodies
Angels playing sweet instruments
Softly, sweetly, soothing the spirit
With the echoes of enchanting songs
Gentle tunes, breathless wonder
Flowing across the silence with abiding
Peace, pouring out laughter, sincerity
Her joy is like the promise of grace
Raining down hope through the soul
Coloring the spirit in hues, vibrant and bold
Sensations so brilliant they astonish
Even the very wise and the strong, the powerful
Rays of a love too wonderful to describe
Love that is alive as the moon and the stars
Her embrace is like the soft touch of wind
Breathing its sighs across the hills,
Filling the heart with inspiration, visions
Pleasures so spontaneous and special
They feel like a silent prayer has been answered
With “absolutely” – you are blessed
You are sanctified by the grace of amazing faith
Her satisfaction is like release of dreams, free
From every burden of fear or doubt
Leaving you filled with courage that lasts
Daring that lifts you from the darkness
Into the shimmering sparkle of a light
Where your silhouette can conquer anything
Your dreams can become truth, reality
Her simplicity is like the beauty of a thought
Who encourages, inspires and enlightens
Her goodness, her confidence, the wisdom
That is like a life pouring out warmth, serenity
Flowing amid the promises of a creativity
Who believes and agrees to be heartened
By the feelings that stream from her soul
She is like God’s angel, His gift to His children
She is a mother, His revelation – His plan
No one on earth can be more lovely
She is irreplaceable – She is the reason I always say…
I am blessed more than anyone else I know
I am blessed with a mother who makes me feel…
Like I am her reason – her joy and her purpose
Thank God for my mother, the one who shines her light
Into my spirit, into my dreams, into my joy and into my feelings!
Follow me and I will follow you only to sacrifice and pledge my soul.
Now known only as one!
Soaring in the winds with rapid inspirations exploding one by one,
It is your final fantasy to live again!
Victim of suicide revealed by fate and conquered by the depths of love,
Life of life has just begun!
The warmest touch begs respect for the quality found deep within.
It is your final fantasy to finally begin!
Encouraged by beliefs to uphold the strength of one’s destiny,
Yet, embraced with one final and endless thought!
A kiss of pleasure obscures the kiss goodbye,
Accompanied with its warmth to pleasure your need!
It is your final fantasy to bow down for these borrows and trade.
Subtle with perfection you are as pure as a white dove.
Your desire is to never ever get lost with what you’ve caught.
Insensitive delights begin to dwell from deep within,
You burn and ache for a place to finalize where it is that you belong.
It is your final fantasy to conquer these steps in which you alone have made.
Sacrifice those objectives captured and held in your time!
Acknowledge your very own self with the quality known only by the depths inside of you!
Fly away with me, but only for a moment.
Embrace only that which enlightens the moment seized!
It is your final fantasy to touch and feel everything that you never knew.
Life is our mystery, yet we uphold its true value with our righteous dignity.
Harvest your life moment by moment,
Make it your very own prey for the little ones who never knew.
Gather the sensations and absorb life as you breathe in your every breath of air.
It is your final fantasy to indulge with the intrigued and explore all of these parts inside of
you!
Release yourself from the depths of love and find what it is that you truly seek.
Life of life has finally just begun!
Looking up and looking down but never looking all of the way around,
The loss of control is the loss that you will gain!
It is your final fantasy to whisper in the dark and to cry in plain sight.
Open minds with open hearts capture the true essence, for they completely belong!
Spirits fly and soar through life with so much energy powered with intensity’s strength.
They find the treasures you’ve always sought but have never found.
Your final fantasy is to escape your darkness and to find yourself inside of this beaming ray of
light!