Long Restrictive Poems

Long Restrictive Poems. Below are the most popular long Restrictive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Restrictive poems by poem length and keyword.


Navigating Outward Bounds of Relationships

Volition, orientation familiarization aahing
and oohing within restrictive paradigm molding
inviolable honorable gentility -
flagrantly, desirously, clearly boyz abandoning
willfully skirting, panting (heavily)
forfeiting abominably, (no Joe King) abiding

chomping at bit, damning delineated, or obscure
parameters, between one acceding
Earthlinked selfish living
psychosexual pining human bing,
and another ardently avowedly ambitious
altruistic agent provocateur (lol)

at first blush hinting Moulin Rouge adulation
under dim (witted) lighting accenting
individual randy salient
traits savoring tête-à-tête
tasty hors d'oeuvres accentuating
nuances highlighting flirtatious countenance

initially unconditionally stubbornly accepting
dire hormonal straits
as prickly fledgling acquaintanceship
quivers, negotiates, kickstarts abolishing
inchoate biochemical protracted coupling
conveniently interpreting accessing

breeching, catapulting Dickensian estuary,
non verbal communication nsync abridging
painstakingly erecting complex edifice
suavely, urbanely, wittily accessorising
tried and truevalue tricks acclaiming
debonair heroic manliness princely

qualities dutifully dominate directing
demure damsel in distress absconding
convincing, foreplaying, jimmying,
rollicking readily acclimatizing
challenges thrust up gracefully parlaying
most savvy serious similarly sophisticated

totally tubular testosterone tactics
versatile repartee accomplishing
dynamics cultivating atavistic romantic ballet
on duh poe whit tick abutting
metaphorical foot accoutering

trappings adorned since mythological
Adam and Eve accrediting
latter, sans virile unavoidable temptation
savoir faire verboten fruit, accelerating
action whereby unsuspecting, slithering,
lurking serpent teen accounting
rattle unheard by apse cent church fathers

subsequently excoriating, condemning, accusing,
nonetheless indomitable transcendence achieving
pinnacle of prostrate poignancy
inexpressible ecstasy acquiescing
nonpareil acquisition adulation activating
ascendence assaying administering
amorousness activating. aching.


Premium Member GRADUATE

Graduate to a higher framework of thinking.
Move into the Upper Class of the Divine.
Life is not narrow, restrictive or limiting,
It's all in your state of Mind.

Guard carefully your thoughts and emotions.
Sift them for the brightest nuggets of gold.
Glean the best and most perfect image
Of your Highest good that you can hold.

Then, let it shine in each moment and hour.
Fight yourself to save your own Soul.
You hold the key to your future and destiny.
Open your eyes to watch eternity unfold.

You are more powerful than you know;
more capable than you can believe.
Life unfolds moment by moment; breath by breath.
Graduate to a higher Understanding; 
Finally, set your Mind and Spirit free.

Chula Fleming Copyright Sept 5, 1997

Mother Mother

Song:-  1990

Mother    Mother
   love me  love me 
   love me  love me
   I need your love

   (repeat)

why don't you like me?
why do you hate me?
why do you hit me?

Mother  Mother

where is your love?
where is the safety I think of?
when I hear -

Mother  Mother  !!

Mother  Mother
are you mine?
why don't you love me?
why do you hate me?
why do you hit me?

Mother  Mother

How can I live without love?

I hide in the dark
I build walls in my mind
For I can't believe

Mother Mother

You don't love me.




I have posted this for others that are facing suicidal questions. 
This was a healing song written to release my own walls that I used to protect
myself from age 4 and onwards.  Was reading Daisy Tyrell request for feedback.  Hope it helps a little.  I could fill a book on the subject of the fight for life.  Will attempt to put some in words as I can.

And it is a fight - those that are willing never to surrender will live. I remember, one time - stuck in a noisy hospital wing, a friend also suicidal at same time in another city.  I wrote every moment, filling a large A4 pad.  On my knees, crying  - I was writing " I want to live"  I am willing to live.  Over and over. Line after line.  Page after page.  Also writing to my friend -
encouraging him to fight and live.  I won my fight that time -but my  friend
did not.  When I heard of his death - It put  me right back in hospital again.
The fight started all over again -never easy, but I won that one too and several more after that!

Daisy's poem talks of wanting to find beauty within.  That may not be what there is to find. A great truth is found the point of rock bottom.  Mental health counsellors term it  'bedrock'.   When you find bedrock -you find your truest self.  It was to my great astonishment I found my bedrock housed an 
unquenchable spring of joy!  Once I came to terms that this was the real me - 
I was able to identify what was capping that well of joy.  It took another 15 years to free myself from all those restrictive people. Once totally free never had another mental health issue.  Funny that.

I have only shared this to hopefully encourage others.  These times are long gone and totally cleared for me. Live a joyous, happy clownish though late starter life.  Love always - Virginia

Premium Member If I Were

I had a dream that I was the President of the USA and this
is what I would do to make my country strong again. . . 

Get every single citizen vaccinated for Covid 19 and variants
Work with advisors on ways to open up the economy
Implement a plan to help citizen find jobs, shelter and food
Work with Border Authorities to open up the borders
For sure make the "Dreamers" USA citizens
Release Mexican children held in cages and unite with family
Work to achieve Climate Change with advisors and scientist
Form a plan to reduce pollution in the rivers, lakes and oceans
Find ways to help endangered species and loss of habitat
Put a stop to import of trophy hunter kills from other countries
Work to create a friendly relations with Canada and Mexico
Respect the rights and treaties of the native Indians
Put into action an end to police brutality with zero tolerance
Work on how to end racial prejudice for all races and religions
Create a great health care plan for all citizens
Improve relations with allies and all countries of the world
Work on gun reforms making ownership more restrictive
Make prison sentences have no option for parole or pardons
Show compassion in times of national or world tragedy
Do everything in my power to make USA strong 

______________________ 
February 10, 2021

Poetry/List/If I Were
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1327-582-10
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France


Written for the Standard contest, If I Was President
sponsor, Matt Caliri, Judged 03/19/2021

Third Place
Form: List

Spontaneity

In a ballet of restrictive and 
stifling carriage, we strike into 
the depths of our imagination
and boundless intuition on a 

rollercoaster soaring free from 
rigid clips, venturing into a cosmic
sphere where dreams take flight, 
on Saturn's rings, 

exhilarating twists and turns.
Firm on the grand stage, 
we play roughly and smoothly,
each length, a part of nature's layers. 

Flames cannot be known by names
alone, until a touch signifies its 
friendliness, an improvised whirl
flows from each planet's curves, 
a feeling extended to its neighbours. 

We shamelessly surrender to
the rhythm of the divine, 
navigating each realm
through our inner voice, 
slowly bringing it to reality,
where we find our worth in 
positive existence.

Nature's wings sting through the 
murmurs of rustling trees.
The twirl of the winds sings 
whispers of vibrations.
Silent energy embraces the soul 
of the moon, giving us insights 
where we paint through without
worrying about the result.

Entangled in the sweet rhythm
of unknown tones with languages
that stir you into another dimension,
beating to the smile of strangers, 
soaring high just to see low.
Play tags without keeping taps. 
Read dialogues to friends with
no lines, go unnoticed in perfection, 
craving attention so you live without scripts. 

Discarding narrow thought flow crutch
We learn directly by soft touch
And what we garner we relay
To the vast void in childlike play
Entwined this with the universe
We dance without the need to rehearse.


Filtered Thoughts

The rational mind
  this contained receptacle of thought
  allowed, restrictive, forbidden or prohibitive release,
still functions in both light and dark; 
  silent but unrestrained progressive thinking,
  curbed by the mouth, lips and any vulgar release;
random, foolish, condemning images
  prevail despite law, threat, incarcerated restrictions,
  contrived interpretations or intimidated  references;
this repository lives, perceiving life and its surroudings
  fully functional, interpreting existence and reality,
  its casualties, consequential actions, disparities;
action or inaction moves or hesitates as it exists
  pure environment, acknowledgement of right and wrong
  to be contained by filtered thoughts immoral and moral;
decisional knowledgeable preferences
  in loathing of prior occurrences, retrospective recognition
  of needed change, learned responses, resolute acceptance
of undesignated need, requisite essentials
  for democracy, freedom, existence
  with unequivocal, unquestioned, undoubted
equality for all
  expunged and released, set free
  by unfiltered consciousness of filtered thought.


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_books_banned_by_governments
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Black Sheep

A rebellious, curious child
with a propensity for mischief:
I was always running away.
No halo ever crowned my head:
I was troublesome and argumentative!
I'd skip school at least twice a week,
earning me repeated beatings:
but I didn't care!
I felt shackled to restrictive rules
by a suppressive chain that I did my best to break:
constantly testing its weakest link.
And, I did not bend to conformity:
nor blend into the night like a shadow.
Instead, I was a blaze of blinding light:
that I didn't hide under a bushel.
I may have been born helpless:
but I was no lamb,
to be led by a flock mentality.
Society's shepherds branded me
a black sheep, a reprobate, a rogue,
and a scoundrel.
And because I flew outside their radar:
they tried to standardize
and compartmentalize me:
but I'd have none of it.
No one has the right to subjugate or judge me:
I answer only to myself, my God,
and my conscience.

Premium Member Mirror, Mirror: Dechnad-1

When you sit down to write, and it
    seems a bit forced
When the rhyme pairs are matching, but
    somewhat divorced

When the wellspring has dried up right
    there at the source
Just relax - she’ll return to you
    all in due course

When that stanza’s like swallowing
    a bitter pill
When you’re thinking in verbs and nouns,
    put down that quill

Stop playing such a selfish war
    inside your head
And consider that she’s needing
    feeding instead

Just remember, she’s here to bring
    joy, not confuse
And recall what you did before
    sing to your muse

So go dance with your daughter or
    run with your son 
Your spirits start soaring, and she
    then joins the fun

And since these things just never do
    happen to you
Writing witty little poems
    shows ‘em that, too!

----------

a Dechnad Cummaisc, Irish quatrains (8/4a/8b/4ba)
(lines 2 and 4 end rhymes, 3's end rhymes with syllable 2 or 3 of line 4). Much less restrictive than its big sister, the Dechnad Mor

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/dechnad-cummaisc-poetic-forms
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Other

Premium Member ''Oh, That Rule''

Since I was a little girl, I have been writing poems and stories, 
     my grandma encouraged me to write my sadness in a journal;
and I did, and then I wrote stories about my cat and mom's flowers,
          I would start writing with no plan, the words would come tumbling.

As I got older, I learned about forms and rhyming and rules,
     and of course, the requirements for syllables in certain poems;
I can handle the rhyming rule, but that syllable thing is so restrictive,
          see, I am a rambler, I like it when my words just fall from my pen.

My writing is an avalanche of emotions, sometimes very sad,
     and I want no borders, no walls to hold me back, restrain me;
so, I wrote you this verse, oh yes, for I could use lots of wordy words,
          oh, that syllable rule thing was begging to be broken, and so I did.

________________________
September 20, 2016


Poetry/Verse/"Oh, That Rule"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-831-323-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.
Form: Verse

No Shucking Small Talk

Contains More Than Kernel Of Truthful 

alienation, expulsion, ostracization 
     from body politick 
     if member of society resistant, 
     indifferent, adamant, et cetera   

despite differentiation 
     (across the figurative board)
     intolerance opposing ethos, 
     asper unspoken social graces extant 

(albeit manifested amidst diverse 
     livingsocial variations) within
rubric of global civilizations primal, 
     oral, nonverbal, et cetera codas 

     automatically decreeing manual Kant
instilled from cradle 
     to grave impossible mission scant 
acceptance toward recalcitrant 
     challenging precepts via rave and/or rant

thus when born into whatever culture, 
     steeped with historical paradigm
one can protest superficial nigh cities 
     til ivy blue in the face, 

     or try to concoct a feeble rhyme
but culture club richly identified, endowed, 
     brewed from heritage long time 
ago until the cows come home to roost

hence creative pursuits one direction 
     can turn to swiftly tailor
if harried styled 
     with perceived restrictive parameters
 
     and cuss like a sailor 
     with song and dance routine
(perhaps appearing on Dancing 
     With The Stars), or

choosing subterfuge viz 
     writing nefarious malware code, where mailer 
     daemons spring to life, when computer code
     following infinitely jesting illogic causing exhaler

(case in point - myself, hoot 
     ends tubby humorous) as yukon gauge
yet another Internet end user might experience 
     greater reason to rage

against the machine before 
     turning rogue gushing renegade, stage
jing anarchy against disparity 
     with equal pay, cuz a working wage

aint nuttin boot peanuts 
so if strong willed, hook hairs 
     if you appear like a putz
just realize doggerel 
     of this pooch iz gaseous boot utterly without guts
and hangs around the junkyard 
     with other nerdy mutts.

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