Long Sacs Poems
Long Sacs Poems. Below are the most popular long Sacs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sacs poems by poem length and keyword.
Anti-Poem — “Baxter Street Monday”
me trudging walking
gripping onward forward
traipsing baxter street monday
and its steep inclines
going up like a dizzy sparrow
passing vertical merry go rounds
the sly moulin rouge turnabouts
that sip spit with maraschino endives
scanning thighs ripe with hard-ons
the stoner pink boys
lost in rainbow cul-de-sacs
lost amidst the traffic tirades
the propelling grind of accelerators
up up and onward everlasting
floating hovering over shy ascensions
in ravenous echo park
me scratching grinding like steel death
holding tight the skin wheel
trudging baxter street monday
the morning reality suspensions
the daily cyclotron of kidney exertions
of ascending footsteps moving skinward
now racing down baxter street monday
descending and plummeting
passing vertical merry go rounds
the sly moulin rouge turnabouts
i see my sista rosa gonzalez
she be screaming down with wet wings
sending love bouquets to my los angeles
Free Verse
I live not far from humankind the cradle that is of
what and where we are all coming from Johannesburg
so they say and going to one human race of every colour
no need for power domination colonializing margins
The ‘dark continent’ where the ‘savages’ did not abide
by our expectations of what civilized should be and mean
where it was us the other 'othering' cannibalizing our flesh
of freedom dignity compassion lost in money mind and soul
My cradle rocks and sways in the wild gentle winds in
torrents of emotion mood reflection history anticipation
certain of uncertainty of what the intermingling retrospective
past and future web together like a tapestry of life a bricolage
Lost threads there are and double knitted faults and hollows
shallow worn out spins and spiral knots and missing patches
mended winding fabric scars and wounded oscillations
swings and roundabouts cul-de-sacs and four-way stoppage
Is there a pattern to cradling the moment to memories to
fantasies of rooted wings and flapping roots a human kind
of compass joining needles implements of mass construction
subjective individual shining lights and armour idiosyncratic beauty
Are we starving demising suffocating for self-righteousness
loosing the plot and all the marbles thrown high up in the
air with juggled balls we aim to fix the waters rivers flowing
on their own with push and pull of light and lighted gravitation
Just here and now not there and then when sunshine rises
where rainbows glitter melt and wax the wane all of the colours
into violet prisms focussing condensing refracting blinding darkness
understanding knowledge of the shadows and bright clarity
When I write some thoughts on paper on the screen of modern
techniques and ancient art of crafted words and scripted meaning
the cradling of the moment takes its paths of where I’ve started off
and might be going once and only when the moment passes
02nd July 2016 written in Johannesburg and everywhere
Impressive
behemoths
iconic eyefuls
clutter its
cortex that
is of the
manmade
plateau as
it rises from
end to end
sloping in
its outstretched
suburbia that
is hunkered
down as its
supportive
role model
surrounding
the panoramic
scope of its
hub, the
lifeline both as
survivors in their
own respective
appearances,
branching
outwardly made
up of smaller
towns and
villages of
cul-de-sacs,
mom & pop stores,
schools, and
playgrounds
that sorts out
as a piece of
a miniature
Americana
being its
salvation
from a workday
to a night play
a microcosm
of endless
tearing down
and building
up in this
city of lights
a metro-cosmos
that never sleeps
amidst tomorrow
eyes . . .
2020 January 26
Cityscape Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Sometimes in life it never goes as planned
Into cul de sacs we turn behind us we leave
Feelings and sadness dealt by life's demands
Find that shining light, deliver us from reave
To me that light appeared, not one but two
Father God through his book, I entered
Pasts burdens left behind, no longer askew
My path of life now clearer, happily centered
Forward I now look to share this romantic day
Valentines as we know it, where hearts decide
For they shall speak volumes in loving display
Under Father God, for it's with his hand we guide
This day has finally arrived, it's the morn, we
Awakening with a kiss, cuddling, warming hearts
Smiles abound aplenty, amidst silken sheets glee
To forget pasts grief, welcoming our new start
Holding hands in prayer we, to our Father God
Us on this romantic day, blessed to each other
To thank him, we grace, righteously we laud
Breath of love now lives, no longer in smother
.
Five ducklings feeding
The back of the camper bus
proudly sported the family
seven yellow stickers ducks
five little ducklings in a line
feeding on life presented to
the world growth sustenance
nourishment and meaning
For every fellow traveller
to ponder smile anticipate
what little team was to alight
at temporary destinations
sheltered tented playgrounds
swings and roundabouts
cul-de-sacs and traffic lights
To get all ducks into a row
once they emerged enriched
our little feeding station
food bank vital well and
fields of plenty needed
diverse and un-divided
attention chaos letting go
Meal times at times with rubber
ducks in bathtubs burping
passing winds of change
incorporating kilojoules
compassion love and swirling
compromise uncertain certainty
floated in the ocean of life
yet to be swum and dived in
with the buoyancy of living
Little duckling was still small
and sat beside as older
sister eager helper supervisor
when our triplet power three
in one as courtesy of nature
and individual little mouths
to feed lay on their backs
on sleeping bags as wonderment
in waiting for the spoon with
apple mush and cinnamon
to take its turn to reach their gums
To complete the pentagon
of childish folly serious fun
and exploration another little duckling
observed from inside womb in
its fertile spring to yet conjoin the river
contemplated when and where
to splash out into beauty question marks
and tribulations sparkling brotherhood
and food for life and pleasure
whirlpools cascades and little ripples
The spoon went one to one
and to another next to here and
there forward backward and beyond
my wildest expectations of what food
and feeding holding precious gifts
in hand released from nature
into nature ingesting measured
unimaginable and definite provision
nurtures nourishes what was what is
The birds have flown the nest
they feed and feed me just the same
and it is not just those trivial stickers
sign posts on the buzling bus
and more than ever and for
every one who wants to see the
picture depiction metaphor
the unsurpassed experience
which reminds me of simplicity of
gratitude and feeling warm inside
24th May 2016
See my heart stopped today and I felt it drop to my stomach,
where 2 babies lay, Except now there 1 wasn't.
I went to the doctor today and they showed me a screen,
Of an empty pit in my stomach where my baby had been.
I was having twins just 2 weeks ago and Baby A was just fine,
While Baby B had a low heart rate and needed some time..
I Still have my daughter and I still have a baby inside.
That doesn't stop the hurt that a part of me has died.
She lit up the screen and showed me two sacs,
One with a heart beat and the other.. Just black...
I shook my head and I cried and cursed feeling broken,
I knew the odds but still I was hoping....
I have no words to comfort my sorrows,
I know that nothing will change come the sun rise tomorrow.
"High Risk"
That's what the nice doctor told me in person,
Until after the first trimester where the odds weren't certain.
I feel defeated.
I feel hurt.
I feel angry.
Like somehow being this way, could save a lost baby?
I'm lashing out because I don't know how to make it stop!
I am furious and I'm heart broken,
This rooms too hot.
My mom held me, That's what mothers do,
She rocked me and reassured me,
Would you believe I'm nearly twenty-two??
I want to write about it, I want to get it off my mind,
i want to be able to grieve without the "Give it time"
I feel ashamed?
I know that Nothing could have prevented this,
I know sometimes "it's just not meant to be"
Right now, I'm upset, and i know it didn't just effect me,
I'm trying to see your side of this but right now i just can't do it,
I can't see past my selfish thoughts or who's body is going through it.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I need time alone...
Theres a hole in the pit of my stomach,
As hard as I'm trying, I can't rise above it.
I'm sorry... My love...
Form:
For some 30 years, I was faced with Cul-De-Sacs. No
resident in those Cul-De-Sacs exited without facing
my house.
A few years ago, I began to muse over the
significance of Cul-De-Sacs in my life. Occasionally,
I would drive through the Cul De Sac only to see my
house as others saw it. I considered the fact that
it's vital that we should occasionally place ourselves
in a position to see ourselves as others see us, making
it better to understand others as well as ourselves.
My first encounter or experience with Cul-De-Sacs
was when we bought our first home in California.
Our house faced a Cul-De-Sac. Our street formed the
only outlet for three Cul-De-Sacs on our block.
In later years, those Cul-De-Sacs became my primary
walking ground. My exercise routine consisted of walking two
short blocks, two long blocks, and three Cul-De-Sacs. I am
rather fond of this memory.
Our second connection to a Cul-De-Sac was with the
purchase of our second house. It too was not in the
Cul-De-Sac but faced it. At the entry of that memorable
Cul-De-Sac was a most beautiful tree which, from my
second-floor bedroom spoke volumes to me in the Fall
season. If that tree said anything, it shouted out to me
saying, "Look at me, I am the beauty queen of this Cul-De-Sac".
2523PSCtest,This or That, Vol 16 "Cul-De-Sac". Edward Ebeh.3P
can we know the truth
was the question before Ludwig Wittgenstein
the thought pondered by all the great minds
philosophy, theology, and science could produce
and i have pondered all of this
then you enter the room
the smile you wear acknowledges within me
the love you bear for me
eyes that consume me in ownership
an Elysian meadow from which
i wander in the beloved moments
your hand joined in mine
outside of this plasma we share
the mathematics continues unfolding
can we know the truth, a single one
the Golden Ratio continues
yet the butterfly wings' omen
has never come to fruition of anything
such as the heavens awaiting you bring
Camus held life was meaningless
died another drunken fatality
proving some lives are meaningless
while others pursue highways
changing lives with an elucidating sobriety
it was in your essence i found the key to life
logic has filled many a potter's field
an infinity of complications to the equation
on-off ramps, cul-de-sacs, straightaways
claws upon the chalkboard at the necropolis
and the key was in surrendering to your lips
ending the barriers within of shattered hearts
leaving the cave of shadows
down the dark corridors
into the light you are
as your hand glides into my cheek
our eyes lock in an embrace
i have come to know God
never gives up His chase of Grace
blind fools who wake up and see
the angels have always been
walking with us
Oregon 10/23
i met humor at the marketplace
selling her self made brand
from sacs filled with fun she dashed out
as we cluster around her shed
her goods even at the costliest price i will never care to bargain
because in my heart filled with gladness
i had bought in great percentage of discount
i met humor at the balcony
her first impression brought a smile
with basket filled with capsules of console she visits me
i laughed till my ribs want to sprain
the fountain of my tears dried up
my pain sublimed till it was no more
i met humor at the stadium
where noise flows with keys
and fanaticism pledges allegiance in style
22 adult chase one leather ball around
nevertheless their exhibition was all fascinating
i lost my voice cus i was lost in the crowd
Inside my mind to my tomorrows I look
Straight ahead with no forks on my road
I can't look back as my past will hurt more
A corner I desire to rid this corrode
Dreams of many I have to live life to the full
To be as I should to be a soul in ones heart
Around so many corners cul-de-sacs appear
What does it take for ones life to restart
Then came the day as I travelled life's road
Freely I glanced as the corner became near
I turned into my unknown, not knowing what's ahead
Intrepidness abounds, living can be a fear
Through a window I view, absorbed at what I see
Spanish Eyes of beauty, musically we share
A Heart of Lothian, allures us both
Leaving this Highlander, in notable stare
For the first time in my life I can see another me
My tomorrows are now alive no longer I now wane
Her words like lyrical music, have melted my frozen heart
No longer that lonely road, there's still life in my veins
There will be many corners, of which we'll turn together
As I wave goodbye to my past, I remember it's many cries
Our future is what we'll make of it
All because I looked into her Spanish Eyes