Long Self help Poems
Long Self help Poems. Below are the most popular long Self help by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Self help poems by poem length and keyword.
Write a Self-Help book
that works only for you.
Become one with the One,
or at least give it a try.
It doesn’t get any easier after you’re dead.
If you have a nasty personal problem
become an advocate for other losers'.
Take up the accordion,
play Polish polkas for your unwanted friends,
soon you will be free of them.
Frequent the offices
of fully untrained masseurs
happy endings almost assured.
Remember, there are no living
un-struggling poets,
so get a job.
There are ups and there are downs,
be sure to decide beforehand
how you want your eggs.
Remember no one else has a clue
where they’re going either.
Dance, dance, dance!
If you cannot,
then sit it out. No one cares.
Bird wing song
Morning offering;
Sun shine smile
Bamboo glimpses
Two butterflies;
Love fluttering
Magic motion
Sunny side up;
Eggy breakfast
Mall shop space
Hefty real estate;
Make or break venture
Failure is mother
Success a child;
Delinquent of a sort
ATM cash dispenser
Collect and go;
Remember to store
There he goes now
Wealthy in cash;
Poor otherwise
Experiential
Strictly casual;
Succinct lines trace
Newspaper ad:
Help wanted;
File your application
Image and text
Play hide-and-seek;
Coffee table escapades
Glossy magazine
Perfect people;
Self-Help works how?
Leon Enriquez
05 July 2014
Singapore
when the war was finally over they placed flowers
into the heated barrel of his battered cannon
gathered condolences and dropped poppies
upon unmarked graves and pompous shrines
he was a lucky one who escaped the inferno
scarred tired and weary of explosions in his mind
they pinned a few medals and ribbons onto his chest
held celebrations and parades and glowed in victory
lost in action and deprived of freedom many times
he never surrendered and followed mad orders
took a few lives for glory freedom and survival
now he was confined to a wheel chair of anger
a young veteran who gave all for his country
for insanity gods and industrial military complex
a shining example of the pursuit of delusion and greed
a hero hooked to the needle and food banks in return
youth spent at the frontline near hell’s entrance
a wife who divorced him while soldiering on
with kids ashamed of the cripple he was
he lingered on between hatred and pain
a bit late for brave conscientious objection
self-help books from charity to cover his wounds
the page of his life crumpled the dust jacket torn
he finished off where his innocent enemies had failed
a few comrades paid their respects from a distance
as there were no ramps for their mobility scooters
the priest’s words appeared hollow and out of order
but at least the coffin was soundproof and safe
08th July 2020
SELF HELP POEM
Self help Poem: It started off with one-
I was really startled by the potency
I was overwhelmed by it -
It seemed to disappear faster than
I could afford to be without it.
I wanted it to last longer,I upped it by two.
That burst of euphoria traveling faster than
the time it took to think it.
I mean before I could mellow
out and write a whole poem,
I had already required three;
Three in my mouth same time-
melting on my tongue dispersing
flavorful burst of peppermint
"Mentos" it was like a big distraction --
I couldn't write for long-
Not knowing if this would be
the last bursting sensation
I would experience for tonight.
I am down to one pack. My fingers are
clawing open the packaging, there is only
one left deep down.-
I am terrified, It's is so good,
My mouth is making my brain jealous.
I cram in the Last one.,
a poem comes - I can't concentrate.
Mentos excites my attitude.
I want to thank them;
Them who dumps pure exotic
peppermint oil into a candy that
is so sooo chewy and sweet,
Inducing erotic feelings and fear...
Mentos I can not get enough of you,
two packs down and I
sit praying for the will-power
not to suck another Mentos tonight.
Ok the Mentos, in my mouth is almost dissolved;
I am looking at the last package... I am scared
Gripped, drawn down and held by the mud,
The mud that covers your bones,
To cleanse every blemish on your beautiful skin,
To hide what remains of your clothes,
Till you become a moving statue,
A David or a Venus with arms,
Both pure and soft with an elegant smile,
Erasing your inner most scars,
You’re a moving shadow of happy and free,
A flower pot built up from the ground,
You become a symbol of honest and true,
You become fresh and happy and proud,
Whenever you soak in the bath filled with hope,
Whenever you tub in the mud,
Whenever you allow all your nerves to unleash,
And bathe with all of Earth’s love.
DEAR MOM
‘Dear Mom, you went to market
leaving me alone at home.
Enjoyed hot bath with foam
but had a fall: I was upset.’
‘I am so sorry my dear son.
You should be careful as I told,
you are growing up strong and bold.
Had you cried as I had gone?’
‘I was almost burst into tears
but controlled as you were not here.
Who will care for me, who will hear?
Self-help best help oblivious.’
‘My dear son, I am so sorry.
It is my fault why have I left?
I know for long time you have wept.
Where have you hurt, how is injury?’
‘I did not cry, stayed cool and calm.
Who will rush to put me in lap?
I came out closing water tap.
On my own applied pain balm.’
11/09/2019
BRIAN'S CHOICE 3' Contest by Brian Strand
I walked the isles of books today,
Walked passed shelves full of tales,
Books with rabbits like Watership Down,
To books about spiders and snails,
And I was drawn toward one small little book,
About a man who crashes his plane,
And when he woke up he met a small little boy,
In the hostile desert terrain,
And this small little boy, who inquires a lot,
Wants to see the man draw a sheep,
Not because he cares about drawing at all,
But because he cares about something more deep,
And as I read through, it became clear to me,
The small child had the pilot convinced,
That it’s important to love the people you love,
The greatest book about the littlest Prince.
Caregiving “One Sided” at times
Especially at bedtime
Early and late seem to mean same
Considering one’s mind frame
In this scenario W is wife
H is husband and for life
W – “It’s eleven; time for bed and sleep”
Wife goes to bed without a peep
W – “Why are you still up? It’s one a.m.
Now, go to bed; I am
W – Out of darkness “Oh, my head hurts”
Throb, throb - ”Oh, my head hurts…”
Trying to get her bearings stable
Lying on floor under table
Next to pedestal leg that night
And cooking stove on right
Throb, throb – “Oh my head hurts” repeated
W – “How do I get the “get up+ completed?”
To the left sat a shoe so tranquil
His shoe with his foot sitting so still
W – Calling his name. as throbbing was continuously
“Why didn’t you catch me?”
H – “It was too fast!”
Movement in his foot never passed
Like a puppy dog guarding the prey
He sat firm lest wife would get away
W – “You need to move so I can get up.
Get up please, so I can get up”
He moved without offering to help
Wife with throbbing head did self-help
W – “Did you call for assistance?”
H -- “I didn’t know how’ with insistence
At three am, it was to bed
He was tired and she had bump on head
A one-sided caregiving experience and
A protective co-existence
"Hey! What you thinking? You're awfully quiet,
What's going on in your mind?
You're usually a little more louder than this,
What thoughts are you keeping inside?"
Are the words that splintered into my head,
Woke me from my moment of peace,
These are the words that reminded me then,
That my brain had happily ceased,
From thinking and planning and looking ahead,
From the drudge of the whole 9 to 5,
These are the words that woke me up,
From the void I need to survive,
"Hey, hi yeah naah nothing at all,
Not sure of how much time,
I was asleep inside but wide awake,
There is nothing inside of my mind".
BANISH ME TO THE BOOKSHOP
Chain me, so I can roam. Lock me away in this bower.
Banish me to the bookshop - i’ll enjoy this affair for hours!
First editions recline behind smudge-proof glass.
Lock-and-key lick of lips, but I can’t afford the brass
ring, the covet of unopened leather, so I’d dance
through each unshielded shelf, illuminated romance,
the touch like a lover’s touch, before the cover’s
turned down. Miniature to oversized, to discover -
here titles do matter - beautiful, powerful, charming.
Turning over the self-help discourse, disarming
of self-loathing, fear, and bitter soul. Then straight
to a perfumery of fairy tales, feel the weight
of each piece of fruit in the balance of my teeny palms.
Even in the claustrophobic stuffiness of this shop, I feel calm.
Like tickling braille, my fingers glide over each word,
riveted by the familiar scent, I close my eyes, bestirred
by mysteries, history, fantasy, and the coquetry,
the delicious pageantry, vivid hues and imagery of poetry.
Chain me, so I can roam. Lock me away in this bower.
Banish me to the bookshop - i’ll enjoy this affair for hours!
3/10/2021
Bookshop
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann