Long Salvaged Poems

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


Serious Sibling Subluxation

Serious sibling subluxation... 
rapprochement somewhat salvaged dislocation

Truth be told about following poem 
mostly written quite some years ago, 
and revisions made to recreate
and revise a more satisfactory literary product.

This trademark ungainly, unsightly,
and unwieldy title essentially
huzzah mask ***** aid,
(my humble apology NOT
to incite unwanted 
and unwonted anger 
among lgbtqia community),
and accentuates tendency
(mine) to administer
reverent unpretentious yawping,
sans (asper thy usual)

wordy, quirky, nutty, heady, easy...
and gallimaufry charade,
though pointed lament
decries copious blather,
which awareness (in tandem
with better devilishly cherubic angels)
prevail upon sesquipedalian
nippy nap noopy quirkiness, might be
in my best (in show) 
interest to evade
leaving an unsuspecting

reader psychologically frayed,
and without doubt prematurely
finds same cyber surfer 
harried and grayed,
styled akin to experience dramatic,
and sudden onset of progeria
hence, a concerted effort
will be orchestrated, i.e.made
so everyone involved woodwind 
fur me (a hip cat) tabby 
conscientiously choosing

meow me modus operandi
to mute trumpeting, 
associated with this one man
faltering hit parade,
hence, an intent to write
swiftly tailored and more clearly,
cogently, and creditably
qua more understandable to invite,
subsequently witnessing, an
increased authorial fan
base, and unite

easy to comprehend
underlying intelligent conversation,
and/or share something trite,
anyway, thee impetus regarding
risking emailing a younger sister,
where repressed spite led 
to dissolution, née cessation
of brotherly linkedin communication
engendered me to make right
egregious emotional estrangement,
principally vitiated, nursed, 

generated, augmented
(thank you very much) by me,
viz in sum avoidance behavior
(traipsing, purring, loping,
humming, and doodling along) quite
familiarly, easily, (no matter
discontentedly), alas and alack
moment seemed apropos
for this only bro
their to allow, enable,

and proffer selflessness -
pushing aside ego
(mine) and attempt to go
for the gusto hoe
embarking, kickstarting, and
resolving upon reasonable resolutions
to convey persevere re-establishing
cordiality, despite misgivings
toward Shari Todd
thee family member in question.
Form: Rhyme


Talking With the Devil

[me]
When the music starts it possess my mind my heart my actions
i get more ****** up then the jackson 5 
i feel alive I breathe in and out to live to to die
when the demons inside it makes me levitate i love to fly
i gotta fight temptations the devil sweet talks to saying we could be side bye side
[devil]
making music dont you wanna ride riely? dont you dream of the pride?
just slide this pen down the contract and sign
twitcheh twicht whats with your hadn riely? dont think about it im not lieng
this hole world wiLL reside inside the palm of your hand and abide
bye your very word but once you sign your tied to service
you can never quit see? here is the verdict its so you its perfect
dont worry ill alwase love you our relationship? id never hurt it
your a word smith heres your hammer now word it
You love battle rap see that line Reverse it
See? its perfect for you and me to be one in another
For all of eternity ill be your lover 
You can perform for just me ill keep you alone ill forskae all others
yea fame has a price but its easy to pay well be closer than you and your mother
[me]
You silver tounged **** get away from me i gotta stay sane
but everyone just wants so much from mae i cant say
what i want to without stumbling and mumbaling my mouth betreys
me You can fix that? you can make me better than anyone else hey?
Well so can i i just gotta try, You will be with me forever?
and never give me up our relationship you would never sever?
but your evil you hate me you already forsake me how can you take me?
[devil]
No its not like that thats what he wants you to think
You have the opportunity now dont shrink
Show some courage here the contract i know you have the ink
Lets Bond and fuse to eachother like a chain link
[me]
Why do you want me? WHY
[devil]
Becouse your mind is buetifull i love the way you are
resisting me only gets harder just saccumb and ill make you feel numb
ill hummble you no more will it trouble you trust me i know you
[me]
NO no one know the true me even god he Gave me a lock i and i have the key
[devil]
Well im right here Hes not so who you gunna believe
be the tough guy just roll up those sleeves

[me]
So tragic i guess this is the only way i can have it
im sorry i once had a chance but i didnt grab it
and now i believe im to old to be salvaged
Form:

They Ask

1.	They Ask  (For 1984 riots)

Everyone asks;
how were you coupled with him?
Whose desertion
has dried up your eyes.
Finding solace in my gasps
You tell me-
How can I disclose
that the radiance of your blood,
before becoming my vermilion,
is gleaming in my eyes.
The perennial sea of my eyes is red-
with the ire
and with the woe
I can't lend the azure icy frost
to my venomous eyes.

I confess asking you 
“to curse me hard”
but the curse- bigger than the age of life,
When did I- the sinner- sought?
How should I be grateful to you
you only know.
Talking of Salvation
how callously you behaved-
left me, to rust for rest of my life
you have salvaged
with the appearance of your body.

Whom can I blame that you deserted me!
to my destiny….?
to rabid, unscrupulous predator dogs….?
Or to the swathe of the religion…?
Do you think???
Blaming the destiny
can relieve me
of the uneasy feeling of being
the spinster-widow.
See- you have not kept
any of my promises
I admit, you didn’t make any
But were obliged under yourcommitments
If the rabid dogs…
were not obliged for the promises
how your creed could forgive you!

You were the same…
whobeseeched your deity,
wished well for all
butstrayed from my wellbeing….
preventing me from a giggle
you took all my laughter…
Where was your lord
For whom you once said-
“Oh lord whom Thou bless…”
Before fighting the tilted battle
While dying
did you call on that Lord
or your Mother…
or in agony, pain and helplessness
just cried
referring the humanity
I won’t be able to know…

Look- your Mother
is in the endless wait
for you and your brothers
in the hope…
You were the youngest
Mother’s beloved, but naughty…
Admitted that you liked hide and seek
But were you right in hiding
for ages
with aging mother waiting forever…
for her you were Sarwan Kumar,
Now who will quench her thirst
And how can I make it clear,
that how am I related to her.

Look! before your rites are completed
I am again made up so much
I laugh openly now
With the shadows of the mourning phase
My mouth is full with sweet,
contrary to your bitter smog.
Still everyone asking;
how were you coupled with him?
Whose desertion
Has made the stars
and the moon redundant for you…?

Serious Sibling Subluxation

Serious Sibling Subluxation... 
Rapprochement Somewhat Salvaged Dislocation

This trademark ungainly, unsightly,
     and unwieldy title essentially
     huzzah mask ***** aid,
and accentuates tendency
     (mine) to administer
     reverent unpretentious yawping,
     sans (asper thy usual)

     wordy, nutty,
     and gallimaufry charade,
though pointed lament
     decries copious blather,
     which awareness (in tandem
     with better angels)
     prevail upon sesquipedalian
     quirkiness, might be

     in my best interest to evade
leaving an unsuspecting
     readers psychologically frayed,
and without doubt prematurely
     finds same haired grayed,
akin to experience dramatic,
     and sudden onset of progeria
     hence, a concerted effort

     will be orchestrated, i.e.made
fur me tabby 
     conscientiously choosing
     modus operandi
     to mute trumpeting,
    associated with this one man
     faltering hit parade,
hence, an intent to write

more clearly,
     cogently, and creditably
     qua more understand
     able to in vite,
subsequently witnessing, an
     increased authorial fan
     base, and unite
easy to comprehend

     intelligent conversation,
     and/or share something trite,
anyway, thee impetus regarding
     risking emailing
     a younger sister,
     where spite led to
     dissolution, nee cessation
     of brotherly 

     linkedin communication
     engendered me to a right
emotional estrangement,
     principally augmented
     (thank you very much) by me,
     viz in sum avoidance behavior
     (purring, loping,
     and humming along) quite

familiarly, easily, (no matter
     discontentedly), alas and alack
     moment seemed apropos
     for this only bro
their to allow, enable,
     and proffer selflessness -
     pushing ego
(mine) aside and attempt to go

for the gusto hoe
embarking, kickstarting, and
     resolving upon
     reasonable resolutions
to convey persevere re-establishing
     cordiality, despite misgivings
     toward Shari Todd
     (thee family member in question).

Last Chance At Love

LAST CHANCE AT LOVE

                      Winter sun startles ambitious songbirds,

                       Though their intent is sweet to see--
                    Bold trills freeze in their extended throats

                 A yesterday ago there fled a handsome thoughtless lover
             Who left behind nothing but tears and broken brown debris
                     Frost was that deserter’s clever ally, effortlessly he bit
                                   Tender Hands that tug love back 

                             “Hopeless”—sizzled in a tunnel of ice
                                      In white whispers:

                                      “This is your last love”—
                            The epithet engraved in a tunnel of ice
                            a staggering truth that shreds the fragile heart
                                             that fragile heart
                            once stalwart, now wounded past repair
 

                                             but spring will come
                                it cannot be wished away by frosty breath
                                                  or raging tears

                             Brilliant blossoms of feathers tickle amusement
                                                              into the stodgiest wounded soul
                              Wayward orchard fragrances in dalliance entice the 
                                           Laggard heart—a bit of hope
                                                    but uncertain of the fortitude to breathe

                          Even the bleakest of hearts aches to be lilac and spring-whole
                          
                     How much delight can be salvaged? 
                            for a heart so oft wounded in despair?
                     How much sorrow spent can be cleverly disposed--
                        Granting a prayerful battered dreamer 
                     A tiny whiff of just one more love affair?

1/25/2013 © Victoria Anderson-Throop


Premium Member Escaping the Medusa

This Medusa had no power to turn us into stone
but when she ran aground over Poseidon's throne
his anger stirred, and into the sea the crew was flung.
On a raft urgently built of salvaged timbers we clung.
A hundred and more escaped before the frigate sunk
and after four days adrift, our number had shrunk.

With naught but salted sea to sate our massive thirst
I vowed not to give in. I swore I'd not be the first
to yield to temptation and drink myself to death
though feverish from the intensity of the sun's breath.
On the eighth day, hunger turned men into savages,
feasting on flesh in a moment of rapacious ravages.

Bloated bodies bobbled like apples off Africa's coast.
I contemplated my fate to become what I dreaded most-
being tossed off the raft, into a shark's clamping jaws.
To survive, no one had agreed to abide by man's laws.
I'll not forget the look of fear in the eyes of others,
sailors who once proudly called themselves 'brothers.'

Each of us clutched and clawed for an inch of the raft.
The feeble ones cackled as though they'd gone daft.
Arms and legs entangled among the living and dead,
as an alabaster corpse pillowed a sun-blistered head.
The demented swam away, flailing arms in roiling waves
until they perished in the depths of their turbid graves.

Alas the day, two weeks in, a ship sighted on the horizon.
Fifteen survivors with charred skin, lean and wizened
rescued from death's grip in a morbid human experience.
Men who'd given up on hoping for a timely deliverance,
their bodies emaciated, and their clothing, threadbare,
destined to relive the catastrophe in gruesome nightmare.


August 4th 2022
2022 Marathon mile 11 Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney

NOTE: In June 1816, the French frigate Medusa, ran aground off the coast of Senegal. Because of a shortage of lifeboats, some 150 survivors embarked on a raft and were decimated by starvation during a 13-day ordeal, which descended into murder and cannibalism. Only a handful remained when they were rescued at sea.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Love

If love could be measured
..then science would have done it.

There would be a formula, an equation, Einstein would have published a paper.. but there is no measure. 
Love is too fine, too vast, too varied, too intangible yet too real.

It's not a particle or a wavelength, it has no flavour or colour. It's lighter than air, yet heavy as stone. 
It has the strength to move mountains but has fragile beauty like a butterfly. 
It can chain you or set you free, be in one place or be everywhere. 
It has nowhere it calls home yet it is home. 
It can be challenged, discredited, abused but.. it is rooted in truth, doused in joy and bathed in purity. 
Love can leave a seemingly unfillable space, an open wound, a longing, an ache, a sense of being lost. 
But when love finds us; we realise we have been pursued, gathered, reclaimed, salvaged, restored and returned to being fulfilled beings. 
Love is the answer and also the biggest question.
Love has been part of us all and we hope it will be written into our future, but when it appears in it's full glory, it is always more present in the now, in the current moment,  more than at any other time. 
Love may occasionally be fleeting, elusive and transient but it may nestle and burrow deep into our hearts to make a permanent residence.

Our hope is in enduring, faithful Love.
Sometimes Love burns brightly. Intensely.
Too bright to sustain, beautiful non-the-less.
Sometimes though, like a flame  it flickers and dances, teasing it's shadowy light into the darkened room of our hearts.
Other times often frequently unrecognised, sometimes opaque, undercover. 
Just a whisper in the ear.  
A seemingly innocent gesture. 
A smile.  A glint in the eye of another. 
A few insightful poetic words. 
The warmth of a hand to hold.. 
Are all it takes to transform a human heart. 

In those moments we are captured, unfractured, enraptured by Love forever.

Jinjagoliath 
25th August 2023

Premium Member Raptor's Eye

EarthCare Elders
repurposed our red brick industrial
BrownField

Including a rusted metal box
the size and shape of a giant's coffin
orange and dingy brown
metal flaking paradox
floating toward sacred ground
along river's sweeping fed up bed.

Here lived a racoon mother 
as had her Elder EarthMother
before her,
members of an indigenous EarthTribe
with river wisdom
long before our anthro-privileged
patriarchal/matriarchal political
and capital economic divisive time,
perhaps more cooperatively sublime.

Because of Mother Racoon's prior claim,
our Elders could not remove this blatant blight
from commercial waterfront views
when they salvaged the metal roof
beneath it
to install solar panels
and repurposed metal blades
for wind turbines

Facing south
toward Long Island's soundless waves
and marshy breezes,
rapture to our downstream raptors.

So, instead of decapitating
this rusted tomb for racoon's rest
Her bedroom was brushed,
redressed high up
above our healing river
and painted fiery red
with a black raptor's feathered eye
guarding furious west
across autumn's sky

Relentlessly watching
our rivered valley
as trees burn orange
rich crimson
mellow yellow.

Our sacred river eye
of gratitude for River Gaia's flowing
watch back through transportive time.

She brought us rich soil,
luscious drinking water from the North,
seeds of grass,
raspberry and blackberry vines,
mountain laurel,
blueberry and cranberry bushes,
maple and oak and chestnut
and evergreens,

Edibles and ornamentals,
mushrooms and nuts,
berries and squash
and melons,
herbs and strawberries,
squirrels and frogs and bears,
cats and wolves,
bats and eagles
flowing and following upstream sometimes
collaboratively unaware

But, mostly down deep under,
sprouting magical thunder
awe and sacred wonder

All this
before our Raptor's Eye
for those who see
what others hear
of EarthTribe's mystery.

Premium Member My Promise To You

Chorus X 2
I wish you smell the cologne of my intentions
I wish you hear the piercing rhythms of my heart
I wish you see the torment of your short absence
and also to feel the weight of my promises.

1. Your apples are in need of a worthy taproot
let me jump in and remove anything toxic
of men, you hold unto superstitious factoids
I’m real and the main deal, ready to clear this rash
for every obvious fall, I’ll be your balustrade
and my trust will circle your wishes like minders
a needy heart in emotional tutelage
you think you are fragile? I need to be salvaged
the past and history design your book of fury
my simple touch will make such dark spirit abscond.

Chorus
I wish you smell the cologne of my intentions
I wish you hear the piercing rhythms of my heart
I wish you see the torment of your short absence
and also to feel the weight of my promises.

2. My words fly to other planets and seem pudgy
my actions void of thoughts in need of shame’s wimple
one of the brightest is from a supernova
I’ll make the road clean after so many stumbles
snapshots of my love, portray the highest skylines
our minds and bodies, I will make a whanau
your girlish sight and dreams are not mere postulates
their lasting waterfalls on you, I will lavish
on a dear, life may have a puckish agenda
for your sure escape, I’ll burn to any degree.

Chorus
I wish you smell the cologne of my intentions
I wish you hear the piercing rhythms of my heart
I wish you see the torment of your short absence
and also to feel the weight of my promises.

Bridge X 2
I have spiced it, just eat
I’ve buttered it, just bite
I have milked it, just drink
I have watered, just grow.

Chorus x 2
I wish you smell the cologne of my intentions
I wish you hear the piercing rhythms of my heart
I wish you see the torment of your short absence
and also to feel the weight of my promises.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member The Meaning of Easter

Chocolate bunnies and Easter eggs,
Fluffy chicks and lambs at play,
The spring of the year is a beautiful time,
And we celebrate as the time draws nigh,

To remember the reason for all our good cheer;
For now is the time The Resurrection draws near.
We celebrate Jesus who conquered the foe,
Of Sin and Death and delivered our souls,

Up from the abyss where we languished in wait,
Beneath the burden of unspeakable hate.
He marched into Hell and in triumph brought out,
All who are His and they came with a shout;

Victory is ours because Jesus lives,
He's salvaged our souls and He's cleansed and forgives,
All who will come to Him, on us He bestows,
A robe of His Righteousnesss as it was foretold!

We honor the Sacrifice made by Father and Son,
And we honor the love that redeemed us as one.
We celebrate the Victory won over our foe.
We celebrate Jesus, our Conquering Hero.


                                                             Judy Ball



"BUT I AM TELLING YOU THIS STRANGE AND WONDERFUL SECRET;
WE SHALL NOT ALL DIE, BUT WE SHALL ALL BE GIVEN NEW BODIES.
IT WILL ALL HAPPEN IN A MOMENT, IN THE TWINKLING OF AN EYE, WHEN THE TRUMPET IS BLOWN; FOR THERE WILL BE A TRUMPET BLAST FROM THE SKY AND ALL CHRISTIANS WHO HAVE DIED WILL COME ALIVE WITH NEW BODIES THAT WILL NEVER DIE.
AND THEN WE WHO ARE STILL ALIVE WILL SUDDENLY HAVE NEW BODIES TOO FOR OUR EARTHLY BODIES WE HAVE NOW THAT CAN DIE MUST BE TRANSFORMED INTO HEAVENLY BODIES THAT CAN NOT PERISH . WHEN THAT HAPPENS THEN AT LAST THIS SCRIPTURE WILL COME TRUE,"DEATH IS SWALLOWED UP IN VICTORY. O DEATH WHERE IS THY VICTORY? WHERE IS THY STING? FOR SIN, THE STING THAT CAUSES DEATH IS GONE AND THE LAW WHICH REVEALS OUR SIN WILL NO LONGER BE OUR JUDGE. HOW WE THANK GOD FOR ALL OF THIS. IT IS HE WHO MAKES US VICTORIOUS THROUGH JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD.
                           1Corinthians 15:51-58


For LindaMarie's Easter Inspirations Contest
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

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