Long Seriously Poems
Long Seriously Poems. Below are the most popular long Seriously by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Seriously poems by poem length and keyword.
Hidden curse of fibromyalgia - the invisible disease
I have been suffering
from the mysterious illness
fibromalygia
fibromalygia is a hidden disease
many people
think it is all in one’s head
that there is nothing real
about the fake pain
that afflicts us
that we are maligners
backsliders
not seriously ill at all
and most people
think that it is disease
of middle age and old woman
than men don’t get it
and that is one
of the most pernicious effects
of this disease
I have been suffering
in silence for decades
the disease is real
for me
I have pain
everywhere
all the time
it come and goes
but is always there
and no matter
what I do
I have not had
a day without pain
for decades now
and will probably
just endure
until the day I die
that is the curse
of this damn fibromalygia
real pain in the real world
but a hidden disease
from the rest of the world
Monday April 27, 2020
Pink tulip roses covering the landscape in unprecedented beauty
Leading the night dwellers down a primrose path to dissipate fear
The army waits inside the empty castle, armor and shields ready
Small animals scurry through the brambles, attempting an escape.
The sun is fading from view, taking last bits of hope with her.
Our leader looks to the castle, pondering whether it be empty.
I have a weird sick feeling that it is going to be a terrible battle
My spirit guides are silent for a change, giving me no validation.
I am a page, of no significance, so my mouth remains shut.
Dreams in the mind of fleas like me are not taken seriously
I have been the brunt of many jokes already, so I keep quiet.
The beauty and the fragrance of the gorgeous roses keeps me calm.
What do you think? Geriswald my knight asks. This startles me.
Then I realize is he speaking to Melford, another knight.
Could be a trap, Melford says, but I prefer to think it’s not.
My heart leaps a little; verification from my guides I am right.
My mouth opens, but I quickly slam it shut. I am tired of being a joke.
So we wander through the gorgeous pink tulip roses, me completely silent.
They get me quickly; I float to heaven so fast, I barely feel the blade.
Melford and Geriswald quickly join me. It is a terrific day to die.
If I were you
I would take life more seriously
If I were you
I would invest more, spend less
If I were you
I would repent of my sins
If I were you
I would get a job
If I were you
I would get married soon
If I were you
I would have better friends
If I were you
I would quit smoking and alcohol
If I were you
I'd stop living flamboyantly
If I were you
I would worry less
If I were you
I'd eat more fruits, less meat
If I were you
I'd accept Jesus as my Lord and Saviour
If I were you
I'd dressed and speak properly
If I were you... If, if, if...
Well...
You are NOT me
You are you, I am unique!
Depression kills
Real lives.
Depression steals
Real lives.
Self-punishment
Is not the answer.
Self-fulfillment
Is the profound desire
To love oneself, to be proud,
To hope and to cry out loud
That happiness and success
Are waiting near the corner.
Suicide is evidently not the answer.
Joy can neutralize anxiety, anguish and anger.
Depression is a bad disease, take it seriously.
Nothing is simplistic, simple or easy
In life. Stay active, keep your mind busy;
So your spirit can soar to the moon
And come back safe and sound. Be a spoon
Full of hope, love and sweet honey
Which can tickle and energize body and soul.
Trial and error is not bad, not failure, only a fool
Will think so. The best is yet to come, tomorrow. Easy
Come, easy go, and easy know. That’s the reality
Of everyday life. Success is definitely relative.
Keep on looking forward like a stubborn bee.
Be strong and not be overly sensitive.
Be naturally optimistic. The past is full of flaws
And every day is a new season for fresh flowers.
Even when the proverbial glass is empty,
A few drops of rain may accidentally
Fill it up to the top, to the periphery,
Completely to the brim,
Obviously to the rim.
Hope is not expensive.
Everybody has hope.
Anybody can hope.
Hope is extensive.
Hope can destroy depression,
Evil or ill feelings and isolation.
Use your words to soothe the pain.
Be your best friend all the time. Be vain
To protect and to celebrate your life,
And you’ll be able to defeat any strife.
Conquer yourself, while doing so,
You’ll surely escape or defeat the undertow.
Danger is certainly everywhere.
Be attentive and be not afraid to dare.
Strike depression early to make it feeble or vincible,
As you seek more help, aid or support.
You’ll definitely be safe and untouchable,
Before the ship leaves the harbor, the port.
Danger is always lurking somewhere,
Be resilient! Suicide is not the answer.
You can defeat depression.
You can always find a solution.
Take depression seriously.
Be a spoonful of hope, self-love and sweet honey!
Copyright © January 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Ordinary Oliver owl made it to faerie-ville in record time.
Pleased that his GPS was right, it took exactly six hours, deliriously.
If you had driven, it would have been faster, the GPS barked in rhyme.
Oliver rolled his eyes, he did not take this voice seriously.
Up there! His internal voice instructed him; to the top of the tree.
He flew up straight away, encountering the full moon and a faerie.
What is the magic word? The faerie asked Oliver, her voice full of glee.
He had left the paper in his nest, under his owlets; he felt less merry.
No worries gentle faerie said, seeing a vision of owlets inside her head.
Your heart is pure, moon has approved that you be admitted tonight.
He went inside hollow tree and found dancing and a fine feast spread.
He gave the moon a nod, and the moon curtseyed, a curious sight.
What is the password? He heard the faerie ask the next guest, a hawk.
Faerie would not let him in, because he might hurt her guest the owl.
The hawk was not admitted and gave a most ugly revealing squawk.
Oliver had no idea he'd caused concern; never heard the hawk howl.
The hawk left angry, but the faerie took care of him too.
She put into his brain a place he should fly to.
It was a field of corn, a tasty fine October treat.
She was a kind-hearted faerie, totally sweet.
Screaming headlines erupted...
BREAKING news...massacre
barrage of gunfire
wrought countless deaths
newly minted unknown
mass murderer suddenly infamous
speculation immediately
trumpeted hate crime
targeted, premeditated, calculated
mass murderous sprees,
gunmen gloated gleefully
resultant mayhem throve
countless dead tally increased
security details, police,
and emergency crews
barked orders while
yellow crime tape cordoned
mortally wounded
and seriously injured
rushed into onsight
triage units as sirens blared
killer(s) coup shattered
tenuous complacency
prior cautious optimism
hesitantly blinked awoke
initial six months
two thousand nineteen
witnessed eerie calm
before tabloid magazines
ripped pages incomplete bios
unleashed blitzkrieg bullets
rent asunder sanguine flickr
joyus kindled linkedin
outlook presaging quaint
good n plenti peace on Earth
good will to men/women
annihilated as bullets besieged
random innocent victims
giddily, indiscriminately, wantonly...
slain in cold blood
immediate conspirator theorists
gin up rumor mill
defend homicidal maniac
simultaneously don MAGA hats
invectives incurring anti racist
bigoted, capital one
demagogue googly eyed president
unsurprisingly witnesses
popularity uptick
"loose canon" Grinchy grin
hooligan prince smiles
Machiavellian ghost lauds
apprentice regarding 2020 candidacy
able, ready, and willing
promise furnishing arms to the teeth
for every man, woman, and child
as campaign slogan.
but seriously she never gave him due process
if looks could kill
he would be dead
she had those kind of eyes
and mostly conviction
the last time she yelled at him
he remembers vividly
time froze
her theology, like always
came to the surface
her eyes pierced his soul
"would you want someone to do that to you"
he froze, he had to
and his tongue had to
it couldn't take liberties in the workplace
little does she know
because she walked away, like always
in his hearts of hearts he tried to please her
he tried to be assertive in his application
of an incident
keep in mind
in his hearts of hearts he tried to please her
he wanted her to throw him a fish
praise him for once, she never did
ever. ever
it wasn't about him, it was her
it wasn't his vanity speaking this time, either
he wanted so badly to get on her good side
score some work points
something
he would do small chores for her
be the working bee
maybe it was perfunctionary
but he never received a passing glance from her
it was really noticeable
it was like he was the dog from hell
it had an adverse effect on him seeing
her treating others nicely
it did my dear
he looks back at how cruel she was with him
yelling at him without due process
he doesn't mince words, here
it did my dear
not giving him the time of day, like she was so much better
mostly only speaking about herself when she did speak close
but truthfully ... but seriously
he think hes prepared for hell now
letting him burn from this experience so when he does
go to hell it cant be any worst
...
it won't be such a shock
connie pachecho
1/21/17
Okay! Okay, just gimme a minute, or maybe even two.
It's just like you to pull up a chair just so I can sit next to you.
But I know you well enough not to fuss about anything at all.
Or
You will holler and hoot and act like a pouty faced doll.
Googling slime lids! Not salads once again; no not today!
Every food day is full of special green covered goon hay:(
You must feel really smart, eating fancy food that tastes like grass picked right off of the plains.
And the dreadfully endless tongue twisting, chew spitting and trying to pronounce all the intellectualized names.
You're evermore unflattering food names make everything I say, sound so rude; who!
But seriously though dude, it's not like I am obligated to eat with you; few!
But all of that sounds so bland, like organic sugar free maple syrup covered in fresh beach gathered sand.
So I promise I'll be a good little guest and wash my sweet syrup beach blonde maple colored hands.
If I wasn't being spoiled rotten or being tortured by nice,
You may have noticed our WAITER just drop off some cranberry ice.
You didn't know about juice flavored ice from Dwin?
I thought everyone knew about my fidgeting twin, named Lynn from the fruit flavored Iceland of Dwin.
I mean common, she's out of town, why else would I have this extra chair to sit in?
I brought cash so just forget about your half of the tip, I couldn't help myself indeed; as I ate all of your Doll-Yapper seeds.
They too are native to Dwin and beat the greens off your funky salad twin and beans.
Honestly though, I only sat down here for some strange on the clock fun.
And aside from being Debra Downer, (my real name), I Got paid to pull up a chair to relax and sit on my buns!
END
May 18, 2017
Go away! Go away! I'm never letting you in!
You're nothing but a walking, slimy, horny ball of sin
You let drugs use you up 'til you're bouncing off the walls
You're 21 years old! I'm 39 years old! You're killing me, Smalls!
Go fvck with people of your own minuscule age
You still have to play with baby witches - I'm a fvcking Mage
You're barely older than my own son
I'm way too far out of your league, hon
Didn't you get it the first 50x when I didn't answer for you?
You're creeping on me - being a proper stalker, dude
Seriously though, I haven't notified law enforcement yet
How about my entire existence you just magically forget?
I even paid you $25 to fvck off, once!
Go sit in that corner, child, wear that hat - DUNCE!!
I have no bloody use to ever see your pathetic face again
No, "AKA. Turbo," I don't want to be your friend
You're the kind of little boy who screws his friends' moms
Gross - "AKA. Turbo," everything about your existence is wrong
No wonder why you're homeless without a home
'Cause you won't respectfully leave people the fvck alone!
For a universe that owes me nothing - it certainly expects a lot.
I’m just a person with a pulse
and some borrowed confidence.
Does that surprise you?
I don’t like being the center of attention.
I think my Grandmère’s trying to grind that out of me
by putting me in klieg-lit situations.
Twice, in the last 6 months, she’s planned teeming receptions
only to show up late - leaving me to do the line. I’ve ‘discussed’ it with her,
“You’re not funny,” I dead-panned her, “STOP it - seriously.”
Both times it happened, Peter (my bf) pumped me up to get me started, “Humiliation’s temporary,” he pronounced.
and the next time, "You're tougher than I think.”
“You’re the BEST,” was all I could reply, before I stepped into each small disaster.
We’ve all been to parties, I assume.
My Grandmère’s tend to be formal - which means stuffy -
with important people who want to be with important people.
The host greets everyone and makes them feel welcome.
François, one of my Grandmère’s corporate minions had the task
of standing discreetly in back of me to feed me names and facts -
just like in a movie.
When mingling, I practice conversational Jujutsu - I deliberately
shift the conversational weight to the person opposite me.
I’ve come to see hosting as choreography.
I’m the Roomba of greeters.
If Med-school has taught me anything, it’s that:
People can sense panic the way dogs smell bacon.
The trick is to keep smiling - until it feels like personality.
.
.
A song for this:
Royals (feat. Puddles Pity Party) by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox
Smile away by Paul McCartney
.
.
François, a handsome, 29ish, perfectly tailored, hipster with straight blonde fringe-hair and a Sorbonne Université MBA, is one of my Grandmère’s conglomerate, executive-secretarial minions. For years he’s coordinated things for Peter and I, like concert tickets, restaurant reservations and travel plans.