Long Repair Poems
Long Repair Poems. Below are the most popular long Repair by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Repair poems by poem length and keyword.
Who is responsible
domestic violence?
in the home...
responsible for rape?
while bullying in schools
escalates?
fact anti-social behavior
begins in the home!
millions of excuses used
drugs-sex-mental illness-debt
alcohol-infidelity-uncompromising
ass-hole
why not blame stress!
to name but a few...
thats' new, slap on a label
anti-social cripple
self centered compelled
subservient with a death wish
co-dependant on a mission
many incapable of raising
families successfully
matching crime to criminal
sooner rather than later
people who want children
most should be screened
the ones that have violent
tendency maybe steralise
these...
protect the unborn spirit
this cycle of perdition
simply 'cause some can
protection remains
the question...
until we fill up our prisons
or doctors fill out prescriptions
or do drugs - prostitution
or some souls
simply disappear
abuse of the sexes disaster
children
lives destined for remand
some cultures self destructive
buck the system for a laugh
self discipline escapes them
some victims choose suicide
alternative families to the rescue!
marriages deplete
truth uncovered
primary social group
breaking down
mere survival havoc wreaks!
social injustice
social acceptance
to live in a relationship
without independence?
when we break the cycle?
we immerge stronger-
children safer
home wreckers
so yesterday
some sexual couples
complete disasters
I deserve a happy life
a happy life I've got
living without violence
is where we all need to start
repeat not the acts of
your fore mothers forefathers
the violence does not work
mental physical verbal abuse
is a hostile mind at work
he's weak disqualified from life
primal evil reactivated strife
programmes of violence repeated
not strong enough in mind deleted
disrespected, feared, without
honor in most cases cannot repair
don't be a victim, of archaic hatred
suffer little children NOT!
this world though numb
Is nevertheless disgusted
authorities ears to the ground
we have heard your cries aloud
take it from one who knows
let all that s@%t go!
don't repeat their mistakes
look inside make new choices
you decide fill your life with
love...
...or misery will connect the dots
I woke up at the break of dawn,
with the feeling that all hope is gone,
I was not sure where to begin,
but I was determined to win.
No dazzling stars,
no visible moonlight,
no chirping birds,
to tease my empty words.
I walked through the door with a subtle grin,
nursing bruises all over my skin.
I tried to escape yesterday’s punishment,
and saturate my mind with hope and fulfillment.
Walking down the dark empty street,
a cab stopped exactly at my feet,
I hired him to take me to the mountains,
to breath out the stagnant air
and repair my body’s wear and tear.
His grouchy voice thundered through my ears,
he spoke with a strange accent that I could hardly hear,
It passes through one ear, and suddenly disappears.
We journeyed through sleeping towns,
they stared at us without a sound,
steep hills and rocky path,
bending streets and winding roads
dumping my burdensome loads.
He made a sudden turn,
and I felt a sensational yearn
spilling over in my soul.
Mother nature bursts from the horizon
and filled my heart with glad tidings.
Layers of mountains blink at me,
taking me up and down the gigantic tree
guiding me to my unseen dreams,
while patches of green and sun burnt grass
prepare the city for the morning mass.
I saw her bursting through the thick grey clouds,
and I stopped the car and spoke to her aloud,
I climb on top of a nearby rock,
and reached towards her and interlock.
I was just in time for the meeting,
Oh how my soul yearns for this healing.
Mother nature looked at me with a grin
she shook my hand,
and said, “where shall we begin?”
I lamented the troubles of my piercing heart,
and requested for a balance start.
What took you so long?
I know that you have been hurting all along,
and I have been waiting for you to prove them wrong.
“Worry no more,
I am going to fulfill the desires of your burning soul,
look around and tell me what you see,
observe carefully and you will agree.
Let me ignite your body and soul,
and sooth the sorrows that you bore,
sleepless nights,
daily fights,
unfair treatment,
and treacherous lies.
The meeting came to an end,
and I felt free again,
the peshmerga drove up the steep hill
and greeted me with goodwill
Dawn fully broke out into broad day light,
and filled my soul with joy and delight.
©2013 Christine Phillips
not in the heart again
for chrissakes it's like Swiss cheese
decoffinated please I'm a yet ambulatory zombie
off his medication as usual
alternatives to logic 101 with Prof. Spike
far too much work for a dead end
saw his only ally the embalmers needle
left his innards spilled in the sand
history in its entirety mocked his comprehension
had the nation in tears and then nausea
several dueling scars graced his genitals
if our perceptions already lie
why shouldn't we
I had to laugh
it was all I could do to keep from smiling
even after a thousand years of AI research
the electronic government was helpless
my Microsoft forehead radiator
absolutely charmingly couldn't get any focus
but the Royal Society of Blind Philosophers
helped me with my little problem
a miracle of recipe repair
because our endorphin soup is a bit thin
the quicksilver cooks ate first and fell asleep
having thrown away their brains long before
in the field kitchen of the gods
after the air raid sirens of postmodernity
can there be too much truth
for an army of blood diamond merchants
now a bit more about para electrics
if only I were at liberty to discuss it
yes imprecision can carry signal
but the place is crawling with dilettantes
wearing their secret butt plugs
it's a guessing game as you can see
petitioning for a visually diagrammatic idiom
although it's a devilish seesaw but let us restart
The Oblivion Ride was the big theme park attraction
my extended family was in the sideshow
justifiably taken for a pack of fools
then the sun went down and never came up again
and we stepped into the stone circle
chanting evidence is preferable
to the moonlit tombstone
good luck with that in your airwaves
broadcast on radio Sarajevo
signal drifting drifting drifting
with minds great and small
and smaller and smaller
the Internet is the yearned for Messiah
there it's done and out and not to be unseen
you wrestle with it while I proceed
dashing among startled commuters
mesmerizing the fact finding committee
their dictatorship of x-ray leeches
tossed him out of several monasteries
apparently the production quotas were relaxed
in a kaleidoscope of normalcy
the style crazed mannerist martinets
howdy do nail in my shoe
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Myrtle Parker
Myrtle Parker lived on the Riviera,
That’s the English one not the French.
Her favourite tipple is Red Currant Cider,
Only beverage her thirst would quench.
Never did she marry no husband,
Preference for life single and free,
Though kept two doggy companions,
Twin Westies, Florence and Zebedee.
Miss Parker was a gatherer and hoarder,
Antiques, curios, lots of impractical tat.
Her catchphrase was somewhat familiar,
“I‘ll find a good use for that.”
Tumbledown Cottage name on the gate,
Aptly called for badly required repair.
The man from Devonshire Council,
Shakes his head in anguished despair.
Oh, dear Myrtle what are we to do,
I cannot see the wood for the trees,
Environment Officer is calling today,
He doesn’t like cockroach and fleas.
Myrtle lives close to Muscle shell beach,
Small cove of shingle and coarse sand,
Opposite the Cat protection league,
Where she buys new clothes second hand.
One summer had a house full of Kittens,
That grew into fully grown cats.
They left her in search of new comforts,
Plagued by visits of large rodent rats.
Myrtle decided on a radical clear out,
To make way for a new feather bed,
But could not let go of her treasures,
So continued sleeping on the sofa instead.
Seventy years old, obstinate and proud,
Devon Council man returned to her door.
“This house is making you poorly my dear,
Regretfully you cannot live here anymore.
Oh, dear Myrtle here’s what we’ll do,
Move you into a comfy town flat,
Environment Officer is calling today,
Condemn your cottage, so sorry about that.
Myrtle Parker was born in this house,
Her father he worked on the boats,
Mother stayed home baking bread,
From freshly ground buckwheat groats.
Tumbledown cottage is full of memories,
Though can’t find many for the clutter.
Diminutive rooms two up two down,
Walls dampened by broken pipe gutter.
If I have to go then take me in a box,
She chained herself to the newel post.
I’ll defend my rights for all I’m worth,
Then haunt Council man as his ghost.
Council man arrives excited with keys,
For Miss Parkers new urban home,
But Myrtle had been true to her word,
and perished on the staircase all alone.
Oh, dear Myrtle what have you done,
Your new flat was shiny and clean,
Environment Officer is calling today,
Demolition boss with bulldozer team.
I s l i p p e d on a teardrop and landed in her arms. She never knew how much I needed her. I s l i p p e d in a puddle and I died in her soul. She never knew how much I needed her. Between yesterday’s old coffee and today's bright doom I broke in half. My heart slipped away into the hell of her death and my mind created LOST memories. So many moments of despair she held, and so many times of loneliness I lived. Beneath the darkness of the moon I drowned in a river created from her pain. It engulfed me into oblivion and I shall never be the same again. Sisters need each other and I needed her. Life seems over and death seems so FINAL.
teardrops in her arms-
woe brings rivers of d r o w n i n g
DEATH by suicide
I s l i p p e d on a teardrop and landed in her misery. She never knew how much I loved her. I s l i p p e d in a puddle and I died in her heart. She never knew how much I loved her. After the downpour of anguish I fell asleep. Nightmares of our final hug GOODBYE. If only I had held on longer maybe she would have felt more love from me. Maybe enough love to keep her alive. For she never realized how much her pain caused me heartache. She bled in sadness and I bleed in regret. No time to heal because healing is no more. Life seems dark and death seems so BLEAK.
one final goodbye-
not enough pure love from me
two dead souls bleeding
I s l i p p e d on a teardrop and landed in her remorse. She never knew how much I longed for her. I s l i p p e d in a puddle and I died in her essence. She never knew how much I longed for her. Before she was born she was already gone. A lifetime of sorrow and feeling different. It was hard for her to be a lesbian. Too hard. RIDICULED and damaged beyond repair. No more light at the end of her tunnel and the lessening of sunshine during her days. It’s depressing to think about what she felt her final moments of life. Her goodbye letter was awful. Full of pain and too much grief for me to read. I keep it in a journal tucked gently away. One day I will pull it out and read it again. Life seems wrong and death seems so BLACK.
suffered from regret-
too flawed and b r o k e n to heal
sister’s forever
~She s l i p p e d on a teardrop and landed in her grave~
Date Written: June 21, 2016
Oh gosh, another tragedy.
The news of Libya
Shatters the world.
Storm Daniel brings down
The first dam wall.
Water hurtles
Towards the second dam wall,
Breaching it from the
Pressure, it breaks and falls,
Flooding the river which broke
Its banks and swept in a
Devil like, sweeping, horrific
Water mass into the
Town of Derma.
A nightmare of a situation,
Which broke all communication,
As bridges washed away,
Electricity no more,
Destroyed by the angry
Torrent, consuming everything
And everyone in its path,
With a determined wrath.
Eventually flowing into the sea,
Which in turn spewed
Out bodies rapidly,
And relentlessly.
What a terrifying night
As people died,
Leaving behind their loved
Ones to grieve, if they could
Find, or identify the bodies.
The town was leveled
To the ground, and
As Storm Daniel ceased
Its roaring
And drowning,
The living wailed,
And cried
And screamed,
Living each moment again,
Such sorrow.
Dear God, give them strength
To face the morrow.
They search for a sign of life,
A husband lost his children, his wife.
The red cross came,
Doctors, medicine, and nurses,
Volunteers tying to grapple,
And cope with this tragedy,
They climbed and scrambled
Over debris and mangled,
Bodies, Muddy water,
Cars that were smashed,
Homes that water swept
Through that were bashed,
By an enormous giant like monster,
A furious force of uncontrollable
Charging water.
The helpless prayed
Lifting their arms up high,
Towards the heavens
In the sky,
It was not their time to die,
Yet some hoped they had,
As the pain of knowing,
Their loved ones had
Suffered and now dead,
Would be a lasting dread.
People by the thousands
Became homeless, the
The number of the dead,
In the town of Derma
Was Unfathomable,
And Unimaginable.
They wandered aimlessly, in a daze.
Could they come to terms
With what had happened.
The survivor’s strength,
Would come only as they
Rallied together.
You must do that dear friends,
Rather sooner than later.
God bless you all, the world
Grieves with you,
You are incredibly brave,
Let all your good memories
Surround you now and forever,
And see you through
This horrible reality, a nightmare,
Think of the good times
Your heart and mind will remember,
And will slowly and slightly repair.
In order to repair the breach we must finally concede
that there's a disconnection from God that we must address by deed
for as naked as Adam and Eve were when they tried to hide from their sins
we need to take a long hard look inside ourselves once again
In the sight of God we're all covered with sin like dirt on clothes
we need to reposition ourselves so of our lives God can take control
we must be brutally honest and look within our own hearts
before we can attempt to judge others on ourselves we need to start
by the way we talk, our spiritual walk and the way that we behave
as none of us are sinless let's be more united in order to be saved
put the pettiness aside, throw out the trash, the personal baggage and issues
those titles, the positions, the ranks
and prejudices that have us divided and confused
In order to repair the breach we must do a true self examination
remove the weight of sin from our hearts to be cleansed for spiritual preparation
to spend less time on those things that are not of God
to spend more time reading His Word and then taking It to heart
no longer to feel disconnected in our relationship with Jesus Christ
removing the plank from our own eyes in order to see the true joy in life
the joy of the Lord that gives us the comfort and the strength
that unlimited power supply that will go the entire distance
we must stop being so self-centered and to God open our minds
by disarming the enemy's influence and embracing God's Kind
to be there for each other more than superficially
to care and love one another more authentically
to recognize that Jezebel spirit so consumed with power and material wealth
to reveal and then rebuke it so we can retain our spiritual health
God desires to take us to a place of victory
we just need to stop being our own worst enemy
In order to repair the breach, the joy must be restored
that spiritual contentment that the Holy Spirit affords
so rediscover and reconnect to your Savior Jesus Christ
reestablish your commitment and the covenant of speaking life
forget about the trials and tribulations that God said He'd take care of
trust in Him to provide and then bask in His unconditional love
to have true gladness and the grace of God now within your reach
your connection with God has restored the joy and thus repaired the breach
crushed at rock bottom he gathered the fragments of descent
slow motion agony that started at a plateau of deluded deceit
free falling sadness spiraling out of control beyond fast repair
the black dog on his shoulder had survived the fall and barked
another round of sadness an insurmountable sorrow cheered on
‘you are useless and even void and oblivion are having a laugh’
a tunnel with no light and the canary asphyxiated in the mine shaft
another panic attack unable to ease the landing of a scarred mind
scared and confused he gathered the pieces and stabbing shards
with broken bones and un-abating accusations he collected his guilt
fears and shame about yet another defeat at the foundation of evil
demons and miserable clairvoyants spoke in bifurcated obsessions
possessed by the mother of all depressions he reached for a glimmer
of hope he searched for a message from science deities and reason
yet unable to guide his emotions all efforts crashed without rescue
the rope had twisted once more and he dangled helpless face down
just enough slack to disfigure his angry face that featured disgust
and yet as the blood flooded his brain he surrendered his objections
one final attempt and he severed the noose with the open fracture of
the razor sharp dislocation sticking out just below the palm of his hand
with a further snap of his wrist and life line he surrendered lost dreams
if life gave you hemlock but the vessel had cracked on the impact
of the smash and grab of lifeless cycle of disassociated insanity he
resolved to drink his own blood and call upon autoimmune response
after all the medication had been useless and hours on Freud’s couch
had only imprinted more festering pressure sores on purulent skin
cognitive explorations had only dragged him further down self-denial
religion mantras and science had failed to invoke sanity and healing
levitation would not emerge when he fell from the edge of madness
the cross lay in pieces and nails had lacerated his heart and resolve
just when he felt the pulse getting weaker and with delirious gaze
he succumbed to a last ditch attempt to reassemble a piece of his soul
wrote an ultimate will on the wall and vowed to hand over let go and live
15th June 2020
O' it's written in books and songs,
That we've been mistreated and wronged;
Well, over and over . . . .
Buffy St. Marie
As storm clouds rumbled in the sky
and thunder clapped giant hands another child was buried
just another cluster suicide death
she was ten years old . . .
First Nation peoples of Canada live in all parts noted on charts
some in places isolated
where fruit, vegetables and milk is expensive
limited, and of poor quality
housing is inadequate and in need of repair
full of mold, and bug infested where babies die
some have no water or contaminated water
some have no heat or meat
sad when you think Canada was THEIR land
(o' we are restless and discontent, dissatisfied and want better)
but in the early history of this fine country
they where hunted, killed, starved and unwanted
and herded into reservations
into submission, becoming dependent and in time gone their
resplendent culture . . . but still proud and strong
shame on the government of Canada willing to accept refugees
putting them in nice hotel rooms and finding them housing
when we have people living in horrible poverty conditions
shame, shame on you Mr. Prime Minister
in my solitude and musing
I imagine a warrior on a high cliff looking at a vast land
he sits proud under a dark cloud
such is the shame as Canada is a wealthy and healthy
country and the needs of the First Nation go on and on . . .
these are truly invisible people
today the government is working to right the wrongs
some say too little . . .
I can see a canoe's drifting beneath a limitless sparkling blue sky
and fish are jumping and leaping
then, my vision fades into an internal night
and another child is buried because of no hope
the PEOPLE are discontent and restless . . .
__________________
March 30, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/The Invisible People
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1008-937-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Violent as the gleaming blade
Of a vicious criminal crazed
Ferocious as the lion’s jaw
Lingering on an innocent calf
This wicked affliction forces
Its teeth into the harmless heart
Bites wildly into vulnerable flesh
With haste to destroy and devastate
End the life that it penetrates
With a hatred that is inhuman – merciless
Ruthless as the worst of the worst
Abolishing hope as it grows and grows
Breaking hearts and wills with its
Lack of empathy and sympathy
Luring dreams into the night, darkening
The promise of a happier day,
Filling minds with dread and depression
Anxiety that lingers even after
The moment has passed and time
Struggles to alleviate the pain
The widespread anguish of knowing
That this big malady holds all of tomorrow
Painting the thoughts in hues of doubt
Disillusionment and discouragement
Feelings clouded with silvery fog
Lingering on the emotions in shimmering
Waves of deathly black sorrow
Breathing fear through the spirit
And whispering in tones of weariness
Regret and mourning come to the heart
Even though some might tell you
There is hope.. a flicker of courage
The possibility of healing, recovering
From this demented beast with its claws
Of deathlike horror playing across
The light that reminds you life will be brighter
Sometime,… after the treatments
The drugs and cures that are meant to repair
First seem to destroy every awareness
That there will be a breath of fresh air
A new dawn – a second thought, the color
Of joy and promise and miracles prayed for
It is only a moment that comes and goes
A flicker of optimism amid the skeptical thoughts
When you realize only God knows the outcome
Of this feared disease, cancer… the ending
The sequel will reveal what only He sees
And I know, it is only God who can spread
Healing where the cancer cells have spread
Death and destruction… doubt that dissuades
Even the inkling of faith that will tell you
God’s love is still alive and well, sending you
Inspiration, hope and faith that can reveal the truth….
Cancer can kill the body but the spirit is still God’s
His love is the best treatment for this disease
The best remedy for any need
With God, all things are possible – just believe!
Cancer Ivy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
June 1, 2021