Long Reverts Poems
Long Reverts Poems. Below are the most popular long Reverts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reverts poems by poem length and keyword.
A face of age, a septuagenarian that magically reverts to my twenties when I turn away from the mirror.
My hair of silver does what it pleases to cover my face. I can't move one side of my face, a condition they call Bell's Palsy. Flirty, half fallen, silky gray hair that helps me cover the one side. My forehead smooths out from the left and slight creases on the right. My eyebrows are small; a student describing them like commas.
When I was younger, my large brown eyes and long dark lashes were the focal point of my face.
As the years moved on, erosion has chosen to leave me with bloodshot eyes; one normal the other droopy and dry as the sands of the Sahara Desert whether from the constant irritation or the countless sleepless night.
I've always had a round face with freckles and a small turned-up nose that is a beacon of shine if it's not powdered. I am very fortunate, I have no wrinkles around my eyes, but two smile lines that crinkle on either side of my nose.
My lips are not like a lot of women, plump, I inherited my father's small thin lips. As a teen, I would gloomily glare in the mirror hating the way they looked. My teeth are not quite perfect, but I might remind you of a chipmunk. They're not noticeable since I am not able to smile. If I don't, I look very normal, but a look of scowling.
A face of age yet beautiful.
12/26/2019
Poetry Contest: The Metaphor Of Your Face
Sponsored BY: John Lawless
SHENIKA SIMS
rushing away in the spirit of you has helped me grow
into a woman of power and passion wich draws souls
to me like a hummingbird to whatever flower chosen
nowadays i enjoy feeling free with contentment collisons
for breakfast similar to slowtake in constance that reverts
me to a rebellion that is helpful to My Self like True Soup
MALAKI MEZCLAR
adjoining river vibe, soothe me
conjoining vapor rhythm, move me
loving the fusion takes me to places
and as a result i am easy to deal with
expresser, i am your smiling diary source
hug me if you need that release to vent
know that i know that you know known in notice....
MARTY KING
a lighter depth ago, i met myself
i was lingering on a dusty shelf
i thought i was neck deep in an invincible wealth
in reality, i was confined to a distasteful disgrace
it was then that i discovered the foundation of solace in prayer
God's Ears Cried The Tears That Were Long Hidden In The Endoskeleton of My Fears
the Red Phoenix hovered over me with a Reassuring Smile
Healed, Willing and Able, I Resume Walking The Renovated Mile....
~~~Turritopsis Nutricular~~~
The immortal jelly fish, I wish we could be
Living like him/her under the sea.
After reaching his or her sexual maturity
It can turn back to a polyp, I wish it was me
It uses a process called transdifferentiation
It absorbs its own body, a good job it’s not a nation
I imagine it all on a global scale
You wiped them all out for them to grow back from a tail.
It seems as though the immortal jellyfish
Is not so immortal though when you read this.
Cos as it reverts it gets diseased, eaten or dies,
By this thing called plankton, and I think that comes with fries.
there is a dark little monster that lives within me
whispering
clawing
its only desire is to escape
i hold my hands to my throat
Gasping for air
Its clawing for a way out
at the same time
its killed
my sweetness
in return
smoke
or rather the ashes from my innocent smiles
have been slain
wherein
dust and doom
spirals from my lungs
and black tar leaks through my eyelids
there is
an eerie silence
before its tiny feet
climb its way through my nostril
blood spilling
as it forces its hindlegs
eyes rolling
to the back of my head
dizzy
as my lips chatter against my teeth
meanwhile my body reverts to
fumbling to capture it
i am too late
i only hear its talons
scraping along the counter tops
it opens its mouth
poisionous tongue
the stench of its breath
filled with words of hate
choking its victims
things that ive bottled inside
for so long
intoxicating
bringing them closer
and going for the jugular
its only goal--->wanting revenge
to see hurt
oh monsterous thing
Ive tried to hide you for so long
but I was wrong
the sadness you will bring
I am muse-walking,
~~ writing a poem.
The phone rings -
it’s my pal.
Something my mouth says
makes us both laugh.
At the same time,
one of my hands
is searching for the image
I was just about to find,
before the cell phone fractured it.
"Yea come over I’m doing nothing."
I am almost touching a black cat
in a dark room,
almost see it evaporating
on the threshold of nowhere.
We exchange ‘see-yer’ lingo.
Alone again,
my mind reverts to being
a heat-seeking sea anemone.
Sadly, the unfinished poem
has turned into a small owl,
perched on a thin tree
in the Andes.
If venting and throwing sicks
and stones is the only thing
That turns you on and what you
can get your kicks from
And you accept or haven't come
to the realisation or conclusion
You think you may indeed need
help the plobem lies in you not
them
Then thinking i spending time
with you to gather up the biggest
sticks and stone's to cast at me
Through though pious of heart
it will not defend or shield against
the harm you wish to cause and
impart upon me
Because as a happy person wishes
only to help and make an unhappy
person feel much like themself
So to does an unhappy person wish
a happy person feel unappy as
they are
Same theory in essence just miles apart whence it comes to there
own individual different versions
of what joy means to them
The good innocently only wish
to help those unfortunate less
well off and are blind to understand
Why they would ever be open up
to be taken advantage of by those
they are only trying to help
It's crass to say but when someone
you are trying to help reverts to type
And the inevitable eventually
happens just remember
It's never personal though it
may appear to you where as
those you are trying to help
Unfortunately most see you as nothing
more than your generosity a safe
sort target to prey upon and exploit
Barred and estranged from every
friend and crossing family
doorstep and entering the last
saloon in town
Until every outreach and
cry for help was given up
on and lost
And relationship damaged
irrevocably
Just remember though bones
may heal by themselves
Words leave deep emotional scars
that though we may choose to
put to one's side and hide
Can be brought up at a seconds
notice and bring the past back
into the present
Should bear the warning although
naturally and altruistic helping other's
out may seem
Charity begins and starts at home
and they alone can rebuild the
bridge they burnt down
and so to it's up to them
Should they wish to repair it
in order to find their way back
home
They stay in the background
stating a useless union still self-centered
powerless, ill-prepared, inept entity of promises,
the verbiage of false hopes with all the dos and donts,
watching, waiting, predicting, and anticipating
another's demise into servitude rationalized
with lie and innuendo, pseudo promises, outright lie,
treaties made never intended to be kept;
an envious and jealous desire of possession
over control, land and people, ever transitory
it never seems to end, forgetful of history's lessons
never once learning the realities of truth;
self-indulgent arrogance and ignorance
internal self-gratification to be more
bound by useless rhetoric and threat
and the human race reverts ever backward;
how long do we watch from distant shores?
as humanity fades into the past aggressions
back to the dust and earth in regression
of time in restart?
Next to my son's anger
plate tectonics are nothing
to me. His unhappiness
was caused by me.
His purpose and mine
is to catch photons and
store them in our bones.
Time measures change
which continues without
self-doubt. There is no self.
Therefore, why care about
my son's anger
or my guilt?
Why do we have imaginary
numbers anyway?
The imaginary i allows us
to find solutions to many equations
that do not have real number solutions.
It is actually common for equations
to be unsolvable in one number system
but solvable in another:
—with only the counting numbers, we can’t solve x+8=1; we need the
integers for this!
—with only the integers, we can’t solve 3x-1=0; we need the rational
numbers for this!
—with only the rational numbers, we can’t solve x2=2; enter the
irrational numbers!
—and with only the real numbers, we can’t solve x2= -1;
we need the imaginary numbers for this!
Is it possible as Deutsch
suggests that the changes
a self-aware organism can
applying the scientific method
instantiate are innumerable
compared to those of the sun or any big bang?
Therefore, one must care
about the harm you've done
or the good you'd do.
"Death initiates a complex process by which the human body gradually
reverts to dust
but minerals may fill the cracks and voids, bonding the hydroxyapatite
and allowing the bones to join . . ."
in the happy tectonics
of the earth's plates.
Is it man or woman who controls this land of ours
Historically it's man who's shown that he has all the powers.
But women know they're certainly, the Power behind the Throne,
Controlling man so totally, as he brings the bacon home.
Just lately it's apparent that the female of our kind.
Have ceased to be content in just controlling from behind.
They know their strength and now insist on strutting it about.
Taking credit for their mastery is what their game's about.
So man now feels he's threatened, he was quite content before,
He was happy doing as he's told behind his own front door.
He’d go to work and struggle making woman’s dreams come true,
And carry out the orders that his woman said to do.
But even mice can turn you know, and man's now had enough,
He's the one who feels that he is in control and tough.
So now a battle rages for his standing in our land.
Please woman of the world be nice, why can't you understand.
You've always had control of man, since Adam lived with Eve.
Your wishes came before his God, he proved it in one deed.
But know you fight to take his pride and make man fall in line,
I wonder as the roles reverse just what will come with time.
Maybe we'll see a different world as woman take control.
As man reverts to second place, accepting his new role.
But slowly as all men evolve to be the ones at home.
I wonder will this also change, the Power behind the Throne!
Ivor G Davies
In cut throat fashion the sadist kindly applies the garrotte
The guitar is a bit out of tune and needed some tension
Two love birds in soft tune and no further strings attached
Lights nearly out and the old record player blasts Ode to Joy
But some times these sex games take an unexpected turn
Eros and death go hand in hand until the therapist is happy
Slowly the noose tightens but fails to dis-please the masochist
I am supposed to suffer in pain and plead for more punishment
Yet the world turns fuzzy and and I disapprove of such pleasure
Ecstasy in all hues and vibrations produce one eternal moment
A stroboscope flickers to convulsions of unbelievable delight
Near death mixes with rebirth in parallel translucent tangents
Cuts open avenues of unbeknown faccets of present past future
Which melt into one as harmony’s fuse slices the lute into bits
Every neuron becomes visible and galaxies appear in the mind
Stashes of transmitters flood the cold and yet blazing hot brain
Loops of eternity mingle with nano seconds and conjure a dream
‘I am the chief executioner criminal victim and perpetrator in one’
One final breath and intoxication reverts back to shackles and whip
As intranet **** and devious aberration fade away into begging
‘I must have imagined that sado and maso were as tight as a slipknot’
Nirvana sliced and dissected will never again beckon so splintered
03rd February 2020
Contest Pick a Title Vol 13 Lyric
Sponsor Edward Ibeh