Long Repelled Poems
Long Repelled Poems. Below are the most popular long Repelled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Repelled poems by poem length and keyword.
It was lonely, but I was searching for a dumb excuse, so I could explain that I only needed a break.
A breath of fresh air would do me great wonders, for these
harsh words I fought to contain.
If I said I was wounded, or that i was constantly panicked, then those words would be the only ones you would take.
Bold of you to assume that I ran in fear of the dark. I embraced and befriended that shadow, for I am far from plain.
A fool would think I did cry. A royal guard would scoff and spit as if I had asked pity.
I am sorry to disappoint, for such acts are paralleled of that which i desired.
Pointing all of the blame towards me, what a shame of what has come to be.
I repelled your charred kettle, spurned from the hell of which you have conspired.
Suppressing my sullen expression, I regress as I roll my eyes at your tantrums, thrown in a manner like that of a child.
All the while my jar of swarming bees have settled to a light buzz. Why has my own zen gotten you all bent and riled?
That spicy flavor which once burned my senses now tastes of sweet honey. My bee hive will neigh again become defiled.
The clanking migraine from the loud chatter emitting from your flapper, has taught me how to adjust when all goes wild.
Nascent thought provoking
threads flit to and fro
unseen solitary pinball wizard
cavalierly fiddles indiscriminately
leveraging outcome
silently holistic thought fragments
strewn staccoto scattershot
attenuated blitzkrieg
brain storm saturates,
par for course sandtrap engulfs,
chaos reverberates within
besieged cerebral corridor,
quotidian mental onslaught
spurns refugee exodus,
psychological ploy asper viable coping
function forgoes figurative
foothold toe tully forfeited
tenuous grasp slips forcing migration,
Sans psychotic shrapnel
clefts emotional well being,
without rhyme or reason
sense and sensibility rent asunder
rational, overall logical
modus operandi quashed
dealt fatal savage thrust
soundless insanity relentlessly pounds
fifty plus shades gray matter
noiselessly bombarding
lofty craft cognitive faculty atelier
strafed emotional rescue
relegated to twilight zone
outer limits house barbed bereft ken
dolled, hallowed, and lobotomized
mined kempf desecrated sacred reliquary
orbits like a neurological asteroid belt
Self healing fragments repelled
despite fervent application grounded
evincing proof of positive thinking
courtesy Norman Vincent Peale
fore gone conclusion crowning
accursed albatross gussied as SPD
(schizoid personality disorder)
undefeated champ decamping forever
within noggin of this mortal male
til death do me part!
.........no longer free
to laugh in the sun
play in the river,
or dream upon the stars
hardship is all you know..........
I see you looking back at me behind seeing eyes, you wonder
if I hear you; though history only gave you one page to look into my soul.
I feel your thoughts.........your blanket, wrapped tightly,
shields you from the evening chill, as fall approaches,
your friends and family sick, tired, starving and hurried
by countless attacks from various Tribes of the Sioux Nation
.........as you struggle towards Mankato.
I dreamed........
I shared your laughter
splashed water at you
and found our lucky star
now, the page has turned,
where are you............
*Tribute to the brave citizens of New Ulm, Minnesota, who successfully repelled,
with help from assorted small militias, a determined attack led by Chiefs Mankato,
Wabasha and Big Eagle and their braves totaling about 650 warriors...they were outnumbered
3/1. After the battle, the townsfolk fled to (present day) Mankato.
It takes a lot of nerve to admit to your sins
But facing everyone after they know the truth
That your heart has left you with feelings for
Someone other than the one who you were with
Giving into the passions that make you a sinner
Leaves you playing with desires that ignite fires
Of yearnings within the heart and spirit where
God only knows you’ve tried to remain repelled
By the evils that will find you out and force you
To admit to the wrongs that surface in the heart
Who desires more than a mere touch, but more
So very much passion that feels so inflamed it
Attracts the depths of the soul to grow tangled
Into the union of two who hold onto the needs
That prevent them from being absolutely honest
Without immorality or indulgence into any sin
Adultery is a wrong that discovers the sinner’s
Deepest thoughts and strengthens the ones
Who long to find the courage to let go of the
Dance of deception found out by the adulterers
It takes courage, though, to finally let it all go!
Courage Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
September 3, 2020
Smiling recollections,
summer evening reflections, now
almost gone for new generations
while my venues of childhood musings
and adolescent anticipations
...near extinction.
I must concede my willingness to share
what they will never recall
- the exhilaration
when Dad would pronounce,
"We're going to the drive-in tonight".
A creature double feature,
"The Blob" and "I Was a Teenage Werewolf",
both Feep worthy presentations,
fantasmically speaking.
The impatience for dusk was matched
with the rush of a 10 minute intermission
and, while spotlights played on the
darkened screen, cardboard pizza,
Buttercup popcorn, hockey puck hamburgers,
soggy steamed dogs, and french fries,
were greedily consumed for more
than the price of admission.
Hood ice cream cups with flat wood spoons
for dessert, then back with only
one minute 'til SHOWTIME to the
mosquito safe car where "Pic" coils
repelled the infestation while smoldering
on the glove box door - mesothelioma be damned!
Then, if we didn't escape with an
early exit dash, were caught
in the dust and chaos of the only
late night traffic jam in town.
And...years later, those teenage
trysts, without permission - I'll never tell
what movie?
But, always remember "Gourmet Confessions"!
Which is it: you can't get started unless
you're riding some current bigger than your reporting voice
or the best time to write is when you don't have much to say
and without plenty to say about everything you'll get better right away.
Form is very often a betrayal of reality
or, although we are initially drawn to poems by their passion and urgency,
we are convinced by the formal means invented
for their impelling motives. Every accidental crack or dent.
Not just mildly disquieted but actively repelled,
running for the River Styx, the doors of Hell pell mell,
there must be a crack, deep and unmendable, in the poet
that the poet must forever try to mend. Or not.
While mortal poets imitate, immortal poets steal.
That's plagiarism. Fortunately the public feels
less strongly about poetry than television,
communism and aging gracefully through meditation.
Now I'm being silly. My silly indefatigable lusting,
silly sadness, silly arguing and silly trusting.
All I do not know about our nation's history, wars
and what showering the people you love with love does.
Ransacking apothegms, algorithms
and selling the loot as memes,
dissemblings. Or bearing fardels
with the warrior's skull.
Convoluted Reflections of Possibility
Artistotle reflecting on the nature of man
Convoluted reflections of possibility that can
Manifest into existence at the clapping of a hand
And contest the resistance of what it means to take a stand
For what you believe in because it’s worth more than words
As the form that reprieve brings can assume the absurd
As the worn out grieving cries out to be heard
The storm that sees things forms a lesson to be learned
Execution of task based focus for productivity
Revolution for the last placed locusts of ingenuity
Elocution of the past raced moments of equanimity
A solution for problems faced by components of volatility
A considered position on all the formalities
While omitted precision consumes the tonalities
And committed decisions presume the congeniality
As embittered revisions exhume the commonality
Respected renditions of insight that provide profound conclusions
Rejected derisions of dark light that contrive around confusion
Inspected omissions of stark fright that arrive at sharp protrusions
Reflected precisions of delight that that strive to negate the art of delusions
The might of one man propelled by absolute conviction
The sight of a hand compelled in resolute distinction
The bright command environmentally repelled into a mass extinction
The light reprimand contemporarily expelled by a mute political collision
The lines of regret upon a forlorn face crying
The times we forget to warn the race that is lying
The crimes beget of the forms of grace that are akin to testifying
The sublime correct the norms in their place while the innocent are dying
Lithuania has told Vladimar Putin to keep out of our nation
They've been shifting freight to and from the Russian federation
Putin has said they'll take action, it's just another hollow threat
But if he takes any kind of military action with force he'll be met.
Any hostile act against one, is a hostile action against us all
Lithuania has nothing to fear and it's Vlad Putin who'll fall
Because any hostile action will then trigger article five
NATO will respond with force, and Putin will be lucky to survive.
If Vladimar Putin wants to send freight to the Kaliningrad region
He'll have to find another way, the west won't give permission
But NATO' s eagle eyes are watching, Vladimar Putin's every move
And certainly won't back down, the west has nothing to prove.
Russia's botched special operation so far, has been a total disaster
They think Ukraine will give in to bombings, atrocities and slaughter
Ukrainians are proud and would rather die, than lose their sovereignty
And have repelled the Russians in battle with acts of sheer bravery.
Written 21st June 2022
The robin landed on the edge of the bird bath,
following a measured safety check for predators,
as if this was a normal autumn day.
He lowered his head to drink,
but the thin layer of ice
repelled.
Frustrated, he tried again,
and again.
In anger he left his perch,
hopping onto the clear surface
for greater leverage,
to no avail.
A squirrel, on the nearby stone wall,
watched with curiosity,
or maybe cheered,
tail twitching with each attempt.
But failure conquered the persistent beak
this cold November morning.
by Gerald E. Greene
Copyright 2018, All Rights Reserved
These are nature poems about unusual plants like the moonflower and agave.
Moonflower
by Michael R. Burch
after Robert Hayden
Marveling,
we at last beheld the achieved flower—
both awed and repelled by its alienness,
its moonlit petals,
its cloying fragrance,
its transcendence,
its shimmering and wavering intimations of mortality ...
To Flower
by Michael R. Burch
We are not long for this earth, I know—
you and I, all our petals incurled,
till a night of pale brilliance, moonflower aglow.
Is there love anywhere in this strange world?
The agave knows best when it’s time to die
and rages to life with such rapturous leaves
her name means Illustrious. Each hour more high,
she claws toward heaven, for, if she believes
in love at all, she has left it behind
to flower, to flower. When darkness falls
she wilts down to meet it, where something crawls:
beheaded, bewildered. And since love is blind,
she never adored it, nor watches it go.
Can we be as she is, moonflower aglow?
When Pentheus [“grief’] went into the mountains in the garb of the bacchae, his mother [Agave] and the other maenads, possessed by Dionysus, tore him apart (Euripides, Bacchae; Apollodorus 3.5.2; Ovid, Metamorphoses 3.511-733; Hyginus, Fabulae 184). The agave dies as soon as it blooms; the moonflower, or night-blooming cereus, is a desert plant of similar fate.
Our English Rose
by Michael R. Burch
for my mother Christine Ena Burch
The rose is?
the ornament of the earth,
the glory of nature,
the archetype of the flowers,
the blush of the meadows,
a lightning flash of beauty.
This is my translation/interpretation of a Sappho epigram.
Keywords/Tags: nature, moonflower, agave, flower, petals, rose, earth, beauty, beautiful, night, mortality