Long Ruptures Poems
Long Ruptures Poems. Below are the most popular long Ruptures by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ruptures poems by poem length and keyword.
( this is my way to bring out what i see and what i object to ... the happenings in the state of Goa )
When strange lands begin to unfold
And pathways commence to get green and fold
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
(to the real estate mafia.. not all builders)
When the naked tunes of glum hilarity fill up the air,
The cacophony of eight notes in the eardrums blare,
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
( the many bhavans and academys)
When the scribbling on the wall,
Will be the last call
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
(a portion of the fourth estate)
When the ageless form will break up the glass,
Seven years of bad luck will come in en mass
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
( to some of the so called environmentalists)
When the sky will not itself clear
Our sights will be blinded to long way from here
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
(To some of the politicians of goa)
When the worms crawl out of the torn can
Brain drains itself and ruptures itself like a self destruct plan
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
( the traitors who under value Goa)
When the cold from the ice,
Will itself pay the price
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
(the bars, shacks, hotels who overcharge to make a fast buck )
When the ore form the Goan mines,
Will persuade the lawmakers the rules to redefine
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
( the suffering middle class & the people depending indirectly on mining )
All the thoughts we held up in hope
Now gone up in smoke
Please stand up with me!!
( People of Goa)
Woody cologne caresses me, your fatherly comfort
Stirs corpsed compartments of stiff collar protector
Control and my frenetic force combine, triumphant
Curled in cream leather, exhaust drips peach nectar
Our lunching laughs echo in establishments of stature
Plate sized steak gorging has gregarious wine support
Irk of nostalgic nubile incessantly scratches my rapture
Emboldened blend makes mockery of standard thought
Furtive frowns from fellow diners behind glasses gossip
Solid gold arrogance asserts benefit blatantly displayed
Societal stable unharnessed, blurred in break out gallop
Crossing the line wins sustain disdain for lifestyles staid
Ocean boulevard show emits stadium raucous applause
Celebrated red car salatious, shouting salt can't catch us
Elite earnings erase enforced judgement, smudging laws
We cruise past calm cove, masts middle finger up status
Fresh blood Ferrari parks grumpy, subground clot cements
Your apartment arranged for everlasting afternoon lust fest
Ruptures my role of freewilled friend, raunch to commence
Aerobics of limber mayhem, loosened make-up, not just yet
Smug exhibits itself on you, bosom blooming, smile swollen
Why are you weird; response is, "Let's make a small detour"
Perhaps a chance to sunbathe bikini clad hasn't been stolen!
Side by side basking serves as a mismatched stamina cure!
Sixth floor nominate instead of eighth arouses sudden angst
Silver keys silence, you push them to my palm with a flourish
This mystery door surely won't submit, a magic rabbit yanked
Wave glint water pours in wall width windows, sun encouraged
"Enjoy, it's in your name," your announcement deep sea drowned
Overwhealmed by involuntary screams, my violent claws attached
Cling to your hull, oyster oppurtune splits old and new, pearl found
Levered apart, rough encasement heart slides out, gratitude hatched
27th Febuary 2026
rewritten by further reality
May 2020 was first version imagined
Unending lines, vast voids, shapes
meddle with my mind
and ghost an odd geometry,
the same that sometimes
twitch when a sudden waking
decapitates a dream.
Time dilates or shrinks
to a tiny dot pulling all
into its orbit then ruptures
into a rainbow, each strand
of color winding tighter
and tighter around my head.
It's the sense
of not being able to fit back
into the space where I belong,
when I become either too small
or too big or somehow
utterly change in shape.
Such disorientation lingers,
never quite forming into a coherent
thought but floats the boundaries
like a mist clouding
the fevered brain of a child who,
emerging from hallucination,
cannot give form to the terror.
A part of me remains there
held in the thick webs of a dream,
at times breaking through the surface
of sleep into where my waking mind
holds me, fearful,
frothed in the real.
Note.
This poem takes “geometric nightmares
and/or dreams” as its subject. I have had
these most of my life and what I once thought to be rare are apparently experienced by many.
The poem probably won't make much sense without having a little knowledge
of the phenomenon. Almost impossible to
describe the dream experience in words
and the residual distortions that linger
after waking.
... in the quiet moments
Love enters the arena
to no applause
yet, it is clearly seen
pushing through the ceiling
the entire world crumbles
at Love’s feet
it is a giant cyclops
one eye on everything
it is heard in the heart
felt in the mind
a contradiction
where old dreams
split at the seams
the meaning of it all
unmeasured,
deeper
than the deepest sea
you'd walk across an ocean
for Love,
a universe contained
in the playing
of a thumping organ
keeping time eternal
like a stop watch
with no pause
like there will be
no tomorrow
Love stands its
territory in wars
like a god
and its legions
then,
following conquest,
holds you firm
in its arms
under silken covers
of dark night,
Love follows
you in your dreams
you cannot see it
but somewhere
behind the everchanging
cast of characters morphing
all together, and miraculously,
like only a harmless savant could,
you sense it, in you,
hibernating then
waking live, electric,
something so complex
is remarkably
simple, common,
the breadth of a life
like a small room
implodes
the expanse
ruptures dimensions
and all angels
above and below
lose their feathers
all shining and tarnished
halos gone bedlam
in the quiet moments
Candide Diderot. ‘24
Lark...
ascending
calling all mistreated jugglers
and wretches of condemned madhouses
bewitched by fingers of freak fame
the spindly fingers of trickster twins
that open the floodgates to occult caverns
unleashing the brusque wraiths
the brittle symmetry of her glacial eyes
cast down from the empyrean skies
as a sanctified abyss from ancient past
eyes as candlelit rectory windows
shining bright like voluptuous pyre
and ferryman’s lantern on turbid nights
calling all gritty peyote coyotes
gargoyles of noxious mind germination
whistling by the graves of stars
in the form of ravenous black holes
so vexed by the self-immolation of lovers
the musicality of their hearty asphyxia
tantalized through thick and thin
falling in cascade down the wailing well
how do we always end up vampirized
singing the longeval sardonic litanies
outliving the meteoric tremors
as monuments of the past tumble down
calling all incorporeal beasts
to swing the fate’s pendulum in effigie
and mourn the motheaten grandeur
of lofty and aged Victorian ancestry
within the reach of eternity’s gate
disemburdened and lost to the ether
melting at last in the muse’s embrace
eclipsed by the fading night gyrations
there’s no excuse not to leave in rapture
one last rainy walk by the derelict wharf
ready to fall down the fissures en masse
into the ruptures of our narcotic glossary
‘Anger is one letter short of danger.’
Excess of it, our life can endanger.
Anger when grown into aggression and violence,
Works in vicious ways and is a great malaise
It fosters hatred and ruptures many hearts,
Angry words can wound and pierce like darts.
But Anger becomes a sublime emotion,
If we know how to handle it without explosion.
It becomes sometimes so constructive,
Quashing the fallacy that anger at all costs is disruptive.
Many a time it has proved so positive.
And sometimes it turns very productive.
When anger is turned against situations
And not against people aiming at their degradation.
It enables us to rectify the discrepancies,
Through our resentment to change the disparities.
It fuels us with the energy to voice against injustice.
Bringing solutions to the voiceless in their crisis.
But never let anger consume your heart and soul.
It sure will take a mighty toll.
When anger bubbles and boils, catch the cue.
Wait a minute before the fire devours you.
As humans, we are likely to lose our temper.
But remember, to it, never surrender!
Holding a long-standing. grudge,
Is like having an unerasable smudge.
It will always leave a stain,
And lead us to irrepressible pain.
However, it is not advisable to suppress anger,
It can lead to irreparable danger.
But remember, when emotions of hatred are let loose,
There is hardly any chance for a truce.
A person under violent rage
Is like a prisoner in a cage.
Anger, more often is a negative emotion.
Landing us in violent commotion.
Anger against people steals all our energy,
But when it aims at solutions, it enhances synergy.
When angry, forgetting all decorum, one may shout.
Don’t let your resentment thoughtlessly blurt out.
Never let the tongue make a tempestuous tirade.
Tackle this tiny tab of tissue and tame its blade!
accident oil spill
dead fish wash up on seashore
kids build sandcastles
5/29/2018
We often say that no two oil spills are alike, but one thing spills have in common is that cleaning oil off of shorelines is a messy business. If a ship sinks or an oil pipeline ruptures, the primary goals of spill responders are to contain the oil source to stop any (more) oil from leaking and to prevent already spilled oil from spreading. However, weather conditions and ocean currents may overwhelm containment booms and other offshore oil spill response strategies. That means escaping oil may reach shorelines both near to and far from the initial oil spill location.The impact of the cleanup methods themselves as we assess the overall environmental impacts of any action.
cited page:
https://response.restoration.noaa.gov/about/media/how-do-oil-spills-get-cleaned-shore.html
Magicicada Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Maureen McGreavy
5/29/18
In the long shadows of the evening, I traverse the desert of the soul,
Lost in the silence of thoughts, we meet ourselves,
And in that sacred space, where silence intertwines with desire,
We discover the truth of solitude, carried by the echo of the heart.
The wind whispers tales of arms that no longer embrace,
Of healed souls that no longer fit the patterns of pain,
In a world bearing hidden scars, where bonds are formed
On foundations of suffering, seeking healing in the other instead of peace.
We find ourselves alone not from lack, but from an abundance of self,
In a reality where silence becomes our shield,
Seeking a love that knows no compromise, only truth,
The euphoric bond that clothes us in authenticity and righteousness.
It is a paradox of our times, where 90% of connections
Are webs woven from the thread of pain, two halves searching,
Not to complete each other, but to stick together, fragments of souls
Ruptures that unite in the search for an illusory whole.
And thus, the healed remain alone, seeking in silence
That soul that asks not for healing, but only pure love,
In a world struggling to acknowledge its wounds,
We, the healed, embrace our solitude as a divine gift.
Each moment of solitude becomes a cathedral of introspection,
Where we meet our true self, mirrored in silence,
And in that infinity of thoughts, we discover that love
Is not a refuge of pain, but a celebration of healing.
Let this truth sink deep, carving into consciousness,
For healed solitude is a sanctuary of the soul,
A place where peace and true love find their home,
In a world still learning to embrace healing.
You speak in a language that I don’t understand, but your music is creating mayhem all over the land, the rhythm is so sweet that it ruptures my heart beat, and when the day is moving slow and the energy level is low, the music spurs me on and my adrenalin picks up speed and satisfies the global needs.
You speak in a language that I don’t understand but everything you touch is converted to gold and sometimes it overwhelms my soul. The value is so high and sometimes I fall down on my knees and cry. Your language is so beautiful, sometimes I wish I understand it all, for I would attend that once in a lifetime ball. The intonation, the texture, the height the depth, and the ambiance that comes with it, make the music exciting to listen to.
Language is the heartbeat of every culture, and if you don’t understand it, it makes your mind wander. When someone is greeting you, you might believe that they are criticizing you. Learn the language of the time so that you can make the trip of your dream and be where you always wanted to be. You have always wanted to climb the tower and take a photograph, then visit the cathedral and examine the carving on the floor and doors.
You speak in a language that I don’t know, but every night you steal the show, your romantic voice captivates them all and you have invited everyone to attend the ambassador’s ball. Everything is so exquisite, the layout, the attire, the setting, is like a palace, the food and the wine, makes the language so divine. It’s the passion that resonates in the voices that speaks; it keeps the whole world alive and elevates its dignity and pride.
You speak in a language that is pure, it is not polluted with the dialect from next door. The pronunciation is excellent, the diction and tone is magnificent; the articulation is clean when you open your mouth to speak, the rhythm is so sweet; it’s beautiful to listen to and I hope to speak it fluently someday so that my heart doesn’t go astray.
The language you speak is French and I have already booked my ticket for “heaven”
I will climb that tower and write the music in an hour.
Music is the language of the heart, and I listen to it when the day starts.
Poet’s Note : [Sapphic Stanza is normally four lines. This poem is a Sapphic Stanza Multiple ]
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In Dark Womb of God it is tender and warm
we receive Turkish Delight chocolate stormed
cut it in half with our fingers circled in white
receiving….bite, right
Laughter is not false sounds coming from masked stings
only pure rings from bellies, see death basked
Bestower told us to rest awhile, spirit style
yin-yang__opposite dials
They cannot bother us here with insert stares
a whirlwind majestic lifted us up high
done as much as we could before new missions
delivered … requests
Below stuck in muck, we need not to be bothered
for time being was a delicious smother
walking down our Akashic Aisle for miles, miles
reading _____ our beguiles
Roman temple structures, ruptures and arrows Dark Nights of Souls we watched as movies narrow
fascinating debates in vacant spaces, weaned
mirrors galore gleaned …
Murky waters where stale grief slithered in blood
fun to see so many facets falling in flood
armour and daggers of all sorts with flowers
serpents in bowers _____
Still you wanted to stuff your pockets, in case angels laughed at your haste around corners chaste
past present future all one we understood
Eternity’s good …
In nowhere could we weep, it mattered little
could sing any hymn though they sounded brittle
chose to peruse any life for reaping thrills
talents ____ on frills
Gilded manuscripts, sigils, bells, shells, totems
we could keep what we wanted, Power honoured
Faith with abundance laws aligned, for sure more
shore doors gaping wide…..
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