Long Sense Poems
Long Sense Poems. Below are the most popular long Sense by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sense poems by poem length and keyword.
I feel the devil calling me,
a voice I choose not to hear
He's called before
when I was young
But even then I refused to listen
Growing up with an innate sense of right
and wrong
The path to righteousness was easy to find
but laden with snares and pitfalls
I've been caught in my share (more than) --
In the woods behind my house
about a mile hike
stands an old wooden church,
abandoned and fallen to ruin
I've stood on the weathered floor
and stared up at the vaulted ceiling
The only sound I heard
was the sound the wind makes
when it blows through an empty tunnel
When I was a child
I heard the Voice of God
Now I search for it
in the decaying wood
and broken altar
An English pub’s a perfect place
To sip an IPA.
Its cozy vibes can warm you
On a windy wintry day.
I do not live in England
But Manhattan’s where you’ll find
Whatever type of restaurant
Or bar you have in mind.
And that is why I found myself
Indulging in a draft
Inside a quite convincing pub,
With English servers staffed.
My spouse and I both ordered pints
With sausages and fries.
(In London, they’d be “bangers”
Served with “chips,” I would surmise).
But still, it came just close enough
That, with each frothy sip,
We could pretend we’d crossed the pond
To Britain, on a trip.
Yet when we paid the bill, of course,
There were no pounds or pence.
A fantasy just goes so far
And then it makes no sense.
Reality has upsides, though,
And here’s where this one led –
A few blocks walk on New York streets
And straight to my own bed!
Denmark
There is a charming little country
it has no sharp stones or huge mountains to obstruct the view
In our heart, we loved this little land.
They even invented the word “HYGGE.”
The reality is quite different, as it turns out to be a den of spies.
they spied on the behalf of the USA; in other Scandinavian countries,
they even bugged the prime minister of Germany´s phone.
In shipping it has been noticed they get the best contracts.
Quid pro quid, I think the word is.
We in Norway have been half sceptical of this sugary land
We were ruled by them for 500 years.
But they make good beer.
It will take time before we trust the sweet little land again, and
The word “Hygge” has lost its cosy sense of brotherhood.
Truth tastes bitter when lies abound,
Crude form shimmers on edgy grounds.
Chatter storms loud with empty noise,
Flatter feeds proud such crafty poise.
Hurts hurl more pain in minds insane,
Loud talk seems vain in choice profane.
Sense vulgar feel in posture crude,
Vile taste reveal a manner rude.
Vain content grooms a rancid world,
Pungent such rooms where evil swirls.
Watch then and see how bad things are,
Horrid fancy flings door ajar.
Decay now pains with corrupt trust,
Doom seeds odd plains as debris rust.
Too late for tears these atmosphere,
Sad worry fears the worst case here.
Leon Enriquez
28 March 2016
Singapore
Good to best
finest sense shows
to be with that
step by step
Bad to worst
ego's choice
Its disrespect falls
in to the 'hell'
Just, for the best
through consciousness
all the time
Sense sends sensitive e-mail
Form:
hiku
&
you
&
me
are
ENTIRELY FREE
TO BE
POETIC
TRISTIC-HALLY
HAIKU is a centuries old Japanese traditional phonetical & cultural poetic form
whereas
HIKU is a relatively recently reference to the 75year old established haiku in English. Hiku being an imagist tristich like its elder cousin,without a title,and with a similar economy of words ,inherently enigmatic & with a caesura or an ellipsis and surprise ending. A similar sense of pause the aesthetic insight flowing from perception gained from 'one breath length ' composition that flowed from the Japanesese 17 onji sound inherent in the Japaneses haiku. Without any syllabic( 5-7-5 ) line restrictions, the hiku is the 'free verse' version of the haiku in English. similar but different ,a present tense poetic in another language - hiku is the written or recited equivalent to arts 'gestural spontaneous happening' .
A verse freed from strict syllabic constraint within its triplicity of format& is inherently enigmatic & often with a caesura and surprise ending( VERSUM )to give a 'turning' to the line.
The hiku maybe a horizontal single* line,(often broken line at the caesura),a vertical line(usually a painting(haiga) ,a couplet** or a tristich* with shape-like variations.
I want to scream
I want to cry
I want to curl up
I want to die
With every waking moment
I’ve awoken sad
I can hear my thoughts
And they are all bad
With my thoughts taking over
And I slowly succumb
I can finally be at peace with myself
My eyes dilate as my soul is disappearing
I’ve only worked to live
To touch and to feel
What life would be like
If only I was real
At long last I’ll see better days
Ones I’ll finally understand
To taste those strawberry flavoured lips
Maybe things will make sense
I always feel like when I’m hidden away
I feel as if I’ll never be apart of what’s been built
I’ll never be accepted because of who I am
But I’ve been told to persevere
I am not the strong person people make me out to be
I am not the smart person think I am
I am a simple nobody
I will waste away
I thought I was done with this depression
I thought I couldn’t let it consume who I am if I’d forgotten
But I can never forget
I can never let go of this feeling
The feeling of not being enough
The feeling of being dirty
Or Ghetto
Or unworthy
I have to try
I’ve been trying
But I can only try for so long
I’m delaying the inevitable
I’ve fought so hard
Just to be back at square one
It sucks to know that my life was a waste
That I didn’t make my impact
If only you knew….
And that’s the scary part—maybe you do!
You’re a threat to my throbbing heart
You’re a twinkle to my mind’s eye
Just a damn lovable guy!
In every sense of the word, you’re out of my reach
I try to keep up with your tides—
I’m on the wrong beach!
You’re here
I’m there…
But no matter what—you’re still everywhere!
In my dreams, in my hurricane of a mind
Cursing the spell of your smiles in which I am confined
Silly butterflies hither and thither—swarms of them surround
Upsidedown, downtown, outback, homeward bound
It don’t matter where—you’re there
So. . .
Check me out! Check me OUT!
This hotel’s too expensive
I’m getting way too attentive
And afflicted and predictive and ADDICTED
Trust me, one night of this magical nonsense is enough
So if ya don’t mind I’ll just be grabbing my stuff
Hitching a ride with whomever—gottah make the run
Before I embarrass myself, senseless and outdone!
. . .
Okay. . . .
Here it goes. . .
No, I’m not just saying this cause I was tossed off the road by some
Pick-up truck chum!
I just wanted to have some fun. . .
You know me,
I couldn’t just give in so easily
But I’ll say,
I’ve missed you since I’ve been away
On this silly-willy road of keep-my-sane
You’re still the only beach I wish to reach
So if you know,
If you have known all along. . .
If we’ve been singing the same song. . .
Then, just take me home.
Yeah, yeah! You were right—I was wrong
Marry me quick—just don’t tell my dad or mom!
Embarkation upon meditation...
Believe me you upon manifestation
regarding Das godaddy bing linkedin
with avast cosmic consciousness
self induced light hypnotic trance
I become enthralled
unless wife disrupts intent concentration
calling out "Matt...Matt...Matt"
bajillion times Googleplex
(slight hyperbole for literary effect),
subsequently courtesy
disembodied voices
deliver poetic inspiration
without forcefully summoned,
rather gently coax (zeal lust lee)
amidst Smokey and Bandits spiritus mundi
plethora of discordant
indistinct jabbering murmurs
requiring exacting golong strategy
kickstarting coalescence regarding
faintest hint analogously harboring
shipping news a boat
reeling in catch of the day
thus, fingers snakishly
slither skitter, sidle
at greased lightning pace
across Macbook Pro laptop keyboard
feverishly unleashing
unexpected brainstorming tsunami
recalling steely apothegm
strike while the iron iz hot,
thus such epiphany occurred
moments ago - in case
ye heard "Eureka" shouted
loud, free and clear
without moment to lose
yours truly brooked
stream of consciousness
ignoring flash flood warnings
slapped down one after another
figurative pontoon bridge
all the while skirting
eddies, whirlpools, fierce whitecaps
fortunately hauling unexpected
magnificent linkedin kindled
sense and sensibility
yours truly rendered speechless
(most time non verbal when writing),
additionally hodgepodge mashup
offers no rhyme nor reason,
yet burst of pooled
imponderable gushing silent spring
(courtesy ghost of Rachel Carson)
currently did flickr
demanding immediate typing
though poetic license expired
please don't tell commission,
nor chief word den
these unpredictable eruptions
(most likely indistinguishable
turkey in the straw gobbledygook
to the untrained eye),
rather good n plenti
camouflaged indecipherable creativity
(nope, not even practiced experts
keen on esoteric etymological arts)
stymied to understand)
mine swiftly styled harry tailored
gibberish oh baying avant
(to assign long sentence
upon Matthew Scott),
which "FAKE" premature ejaculation
incorporating poppycock mishmash
screened for your viewing discomfort
unbelievably came to this homeless tramp,
while he plodded across no man's land
with hud door hubble mojo risin.
//And there I was, standing in the middle of a room while clouds of fear flew circles around my body, I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t want to open my eyes because I could feel the looks, I could sense their bodies, flocking around me, examining my startled state like a wake of buzzards scoping out their next meal. I thought in that very moment that I was going to drop dead, until I saw you. You shone so brightly, you lit up the darkness I found myself drowning in. You were my personal beacon that led me out of the dark and into your light. Oh, how I wish every day that I could call you, or text you, maybe even write you, and tell you over and over again how you saved me. Maybe I’d stay long enough this time to hear you tell me how I saved you. I can’t seem to escape the endless regret that squeezes my chest like a quiver of cobras every time I think of you, of us. I did learn one thing from our epic love story; It’s never the person you used to be, or the person you are now, but it’s who you allow yourself to be that ultimately determines the path you take in life.//