Long Sanity Poems
Long Sanity Poems. Below are the most popular long Sanity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sanity poems by poem length and keyword.
I can't control the wind
I woke up this morning,
not much to do, I said.
So children were woken,
and into the kitchen I went.
But something happened, as water was poured for tea.
this kitchen i said, oh my oh no, look how messy.
As my hands slipped into hot wet bubbles,
I got busy with brush and plate.
Feeling wound up, into dishes I delved
making dishes my own safe place.
A frenzied morning before work begins
I feel so out of control,
then I remember, though shocked I was,
I cannot control the wind.
Try as I might, strive strong and long
I seem to be losing this fight,
kids go left when I say right,
and I realize once again, i cannot control the wind.
Grow up strong, grow up proud, get a job, get paid,
So I push and ponder and power through each very very long day
Meetings, chats and Telegram, its all too much
stop I'll try but i realise, I cannot control the wind.
Nothing I do and nothing I say,
can I manipulate a moment to go my way.
I stomp around busy all day
and screech, STOP, I have had enough.
In a pause, a moment to breathe,
sanity slowly returns, and I realise
I am only me and I cannot control the wind!
So clenched hands open and feet stand still,
as surrender I do, all control
to a God that knows it all.
Who smiles at my effort,
but knew from end to begin
his daughter full of passion, purpose and pride,
cannot control the wind.
As I slow to a stop, refocusing on Him,
I realise something so true.
The one that created the world and breathed life into everything,
It is Him and only He, who can control the wind.
Chantelle Smith
21 September 2020
We prize so much of the physical
which is really just pure vanity
thinking they'll satisfy your every need
but actually, it all questions your sanity
Our greatest gift is our health
what are we without being well
appreciate God's wondrous gift
look after yourself, protect your shell
Our greatest wealth is our contentment
just to know the peace of heart and mind
to be still knowing such a deep calm
this is a real treasure, who indeed can find
Our best relationship is faithfulness
what price can you put on such a thing?
great to know one that sticks close to the end
a faithful friend always through thick and thin
These three prizes are so very great
appreciate them for your own gain
you may lose them if not careful
wrap them around you out of the rain
(Quote:
Health is the greatest gift,
contentment the greatest wealth,
faithfulness the best relationship - Anon. )
Being transformed took time...
from madness to sanity:
the biggest step of a giant;
from ignorance to enlightenment:
the wisdom of a changed man.
I looked at everyone in the same light,
imparting fairness and equality...
wasn't man higher than woman?
Didn't God say that women
should be subjected to men,
and that men should love them?
Is this the notion of today,
or it has lost value for some of us?
My transformation came from observing
people interacting with one another,
communicating and sharing views.
My spirit was enslaved to greed,
" Me first and others last "...
as long as my urges were satisfied;
the rest of Humanity meant nothing to me.
O conscience, please remind me
of sympathy when I am about to fall...
that being transformed took time!
I’ve been looking for my sanity.
Pretty sure it slipped out the back door
without bothering to shut it,
dragging my motivation by the wrist
and pulling loose the last few thoughts
I’d managed to keep upright.
Inside my head: wreckage.
Drawers overturned, lights buzzing,
memories on the floor like broken glass.
I keep circling the same rooms in myself,
tripping on old fears,
finding grief where I thought I’d buried it.
I’m so goddamn tired—
the kind of tired that sinks into bone,
into all the soft places I hide
because I’m still pretending I’m “fine.”
I’m worn thin from holding myself together
with shaking hands and forced composure,
from trying to speak through a fog
that eats every thought before it forms.
Some days I hear echoes of who I used to be—
a faint hum, something steady—
but it slips away before I can touch it.
Everything slips now:
hope, attention, the reason I walked into a room.
I check the corners of my mind
like I might find myself there,
wedged between the dishes
and the ache I carry like a second spine.
I talk to the walls because they don’t ask questions.
They don’t notice how often I fracture.
I’m stitched together with alarms,
with lists, with survival disguised as strength—
a patchwork of what hasn’t given up yet.
The static in my head has its own weather.
A glitching radio,
a low hum I can’t outrun.
Even the voice telling me to get it together
sounds exhausted,
leaning in the dark
catching its breath.
If my sanity ever crawls back,
I won’t ask for explanations—
just quiet.
Just a moment where my thoughts don’t scatter
or crash.
A little mercy for the parts of me
that feel rubbed raw.
Until then, I’ll keep going—
not bravely, not beautifully—
just… going.
Dragging myself forward,
one scraped-up thought at a time,
sifting through the wreckage
for whatever pieces still belong to me,
hoping there’s a version of myself in here
that remembers how to stay.
A Sonnet for Jack
It’s in those moments when I feel most torn apart
That I find your email; you see what’s in my heart
Each day I look forward to reading words of hope
From the moment we met, you have helped me to cope
Although you are far across the Atlantic “pond”
I can’t imagine two friends with a stronger bond
When sadness fills my heart, it’s you who makes me smile
Always so witty with your remarkable style
I only hope to be as good a friend to you
And resurrect your spirits when you’re feeling blue
Many gifts you send, but our friendship is the best
I thank our Lord each day for making me feel blessed
By the way you bestow joy to a lonely girl
Who has found in you, sanity in this harsh world
*Dedicated to my dear friend Jack Horne.
Written September 1, 2014
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
I guess it's pretty obvious why this one means so much to me & I have it saved on my computer. It not only demonstrates what a talented poet Carolyn was, but on a personal level, it reminds me of the bond we had & is a great comfort right now.
for Andrea's contest
i wait at the river for the cry of the loon
from below
in the muck
reeds
grow tall
there are no lips that will draw music
from these clarinet dwellers
i stand under the brightly lit dusk
nearly motionless
the moon above is glued in place nailed in to its spot
holding on to a piece of the bedtime sky
the little dipper reminds me of a rocking chair
my favourite star shines just a little dimmer
time passes
does so
uninvited
its metronome beat replaces the soundscape
of an otherwise musically crowded air
a hand descends from above
cuts the trapped moon down to a sliver
leaving the twilight mostly blind
i'm getting old
still even my worn out senses
are aware
of the days
aware
of that single golden eye
of its rise
its set
its endless loop
quiet is my flow of sand
stressed beyond reason
my lungs want to burst
my brain explode
my emotions are stretched passed their limit
my chest fills
my chest empties
the choice was
has always been mine
i have not lived the life i was gifted
i'm frozen
i'm hot
like a statue baking in the unforgiving rays of Sol
wide awake in the after dark
with all the usual players
the wolf with his cool stance
dressed in a zoot suit
snapping his beatnik fingers
wooing the maiden night
the lynx with a fluid stride plays
the ground like bongo drums
negotiates the air like brushes on snares
a choir of flyers lend their songs
there is a chasm of nurtured colours
engulfing me in its rich deep tones
having stood here longer then i know
i inhale my time in tiny puffs
i am void of the sanity i once possessed
i happily dismissed that blurry concept a long time ago
it is you know an overrated attribute
time moves with a second hand like a plane propeller
i live every moment as fully as my strength allows
all the living at the river and its surrounding land
add their breath to the natural air of the eventide
i breathe in the chill of the nightfall air
and i
i wait at the river for the cry of the loon
September 28 2015
armand
Insanity is the clarity we all refuse to need
It's a fortress
Unbreakable
Impenetrable
Unfathomable
It's called sanity
We are told to think outside of the box
Our mind is herded
Controlled
If only we knew what treasures the box could hold
We were never in the box
The fortress
Sanity
Our freedom to think
Misguided
towards mental slavery
If you are in
Sanity
In
San
In the spiritual plain where your mind is truly free
And the pain of crazy is only in your mind
Even the smartest
And the best dressed
Can detest
How their mind is obsessed
With the singular opinions of the world
Why hate the insane when you are out of sanity’s gift
Why does Sane sound like a saint?
If i am insane
Am I in saint?
The saint?
In the state of mind where i can completely open up to the world
The woke awaken their third eye
But their 4th, 9th and 11th will remain blind
Let the pain of crazy cleans you
While some may call you coocoo
Insanity shows you what you do do
And directs you on what you should do
Break into insanity
Because thinking “outside the box”
Only gifts you vanity
Embrace the kiss of crazy
And dive into the world of insanity.
we don't care if we miss the season premier
we are too busy giving in to giving in
the breeze in the darkness illuminates the equality
we are heroes to each others' sanity, and we maintain by letting go and being ourselves
i am the proud gun that you want to shoot all over you
you are the satisfied sensation that i want to shine a spotlight on
together we create a sound like a rimshot catching the spirit at its most holy
the season premier we can catch next week anyway
this moment in time we may never again recapture in the same way
after all the rewrites, the proofreading, the editing, and the reediting,
we take the almighty plunge and where we land is where we are at our most relaxed state
we take it all in and simply allow ourselves to just be free
no matter the level of desire to swoop up the remote control,
the deeper the depths, we say in our own silent way, to hell with tv
I feel I'm on a razor's edge
twixt madness and sanity,
disturbed derangement,
orderly rationality,
alternating my being,
a multiple personality stance
not willingly on my part.
Why must we have war on a lovely planet>
The horrible fear is
that I prefer the dark moments
when cruelty surfaces
in my alter ego,
when an invariant being
is hell-bent on destruction.
Then my razor blade flashes
in the dim lights of dark allies,
blood sprouts from some jugular veins,
forming a red oozy river
that covers the smell
of the godforsaken place.’
War is so dreadful.
Then do I become sane
and cry in pain
for the victims’ deaths.
Placed 1
Free flowing balm of Balmora.
Walking around the edge of town.
Vanishing from sight I jump into Solomon's well
Quote the Badger
Run to the river
Waking the sparrows I dip into the mellow ravine
Whispers of silent cries as I sunder their strength
Wisdom worries about my sanity My measure of surety purchases me time to dance
Waving down the wakeful sorjourner on their path to victory
Mint and lavender cakes and toffee and rose tea
Milky myths of much feasting upon my masters return
Educated haunts diving toward the oceans center we are fires in the ocean
Our flames never will go out we have an eternal source which is Love itself
Joy to remember you are within my very being where ever I am you are there I can never run or hide from you so wonderful is your Love to know I am protected by you and that you care for me makes it all worth it. Love I know I am yours and our world you Jesus, you Jesus did create with all those I love you did make them all. My thanks could never be enough for how happy you have made me with their creation. so many people I adore and you create them all so many people I care about and you watch over them all. Thank you so much Lord Jesus for dying for our sins and for teaching me to surrender to you.