Long Slighting Poems
Long Slighting Poems. Below are the most popular long Slighting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slighting poems by poem length and keyword.
*Image of Child Sad Suffering provided by Pixabay.
Not Of This Earth
Poetic Form: Narrative
Asymmetric mistrals warp speckled vaporous pallidness toward rhythmless voids. Obviates an evacuating azure as a midday star pivots to a twilight qualm. Numinous absent souls of supine prying pupils, yon ethers sinister obscurities, caught in stained oblique ocular whites. Drunken sanguineous veins to gluttony as impish tinkers sporadic doubts riveting telltale images. Metallic aerials ousted the clouds to unperceived iniquity.
Exhausting times since the alien armada infested Earth in a furrow of carnage. Abominable hordes disembarked, eviscerated whole metropolises. Hideous beings, an abysmal sight, smothered the remote vestiges of our civilized world. Cities ere their decimation had numbers reduced in fleeing desperation. The annihilation of life on Earth engrossed thoughts upon the scraps of humanity left. Ravenous creatures generating utter rampage to and abroad, slighting none to decay. Be they mortals or breathing existences of our lesser kingdom, perished in the bloodletting. Some kept as breeders for the succession of consuming time.
A cohort strung of plain folks, thrust as one in a nameless realm, sought ephemeral refuge in a subterranean hollow expanse. Bestill for the scarcity of fragile credence as the intrepid one, espy a grotesque glistening of crimson blood, secreting from the sheathed hoariness of fangs. Sentient rouses heedful footfalls per monstrosity exposed jawbone, that swapped shrill for snorts, neath laden eyes that had shrewdly scowling luminous orbs. Creepy anvils pierced hairline, afeared incus, sensitively measures close octaves, spurs the labyrinth's nerves. Alas, its vulgar pelt of bulky fur stretch hither and fro, bars clamors reach.
Cavernous chambered partitions mimic as trepidation ebbs nevertheless. Unceasing progress to that bemused destiny, as anonymous atrocities, plague each within their shells, e'er crucifying the last semblance of their true selves. Ardent impulses seeping via their lithe ruby channels, crossing neath the bits of their betraying skins, as they escape the nebulous sepulchral. Beasts at 6 o'clock, tho' what unknown lurks yon pits facade, save a future yet to be titled.
2021 May 12
A love was born and rapidly grew,
Each thought it would last forever,
But life offers no guarantees,
And humans often fail endeavors.
What appeared to be the dawn of bliss,
Slowly waned; taken for granted,
The best in life can go amiss,
When roots of trust aren’t deeply planted.
Chanced to meet by the meadow’s lake,
Each gazing into teary eyes,
Knowing keenly what was at stake,
Farewell’s last and heartrending goodbyes.
Slighting his kiss, she ran through the lea,
He called to her; she didn’t answer,
He knew it was his final plea,
His heart sinking as she ran faster.
Nothing hurts more than a sweet love lost,
There’re no words to soften the blow,
Nothing demands a higher cost,
Or overwhelms a soul any more.
Better together
than falling apart.
Inside I sigh
between sad traumas,
mad bad dramas
fading together
when not
not
not thought and felt glad
Better left together
than falling
falling
falling right wing exhausted
apart
Outside we cry
for fair healthy justice
restoring wealth
amongst resilient us,
becoming enlightened
and left-right co-empowered.
Better communion together
healthier together
wealthier yang-strong union
together co-passionate becoming
learning
knowing
feeling yin-flow reunion
Better together
than falling
falling
failing Sun's spirit
reversing Earth's nature,
bright light
slighting shadow showers
of EarthTribe powers,
roots failing
despairing apart
Inside against outside
ego against eco...
apart
Returns better together
better inside together
better outside together
than falling inside
against outside
apart.
Baffling, the turmoil... This warrior, she
with fiercest desire to safeguard the weak
and innocent, rises to squelch hostile fire,
protecting when able with crafts she’s acquired.
But lover prevails; she won’t raise a fist,
lest push comes to shove, and villain persists.
She elects tactful words to settle the score;
oft slighting herself, yet for others she'll roar...
And tear limb from limb when concessions won’t do
(her mind bends a notch when defender steps through).
Because she wants peace to fully endure,
she stays combat-ready with aims to secure.
With zest for the fight, she regards skillful motion,
though harm by her hand is a sickening notion.
1/28/20
For POLARITIES AND PARADOXES Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Vandalizing History
A Miracle Man opinion
6/21/2020
Under social injustice, history is vandalized today,
what started out a peaceful protest, wound up an affray.
Many became vociferous in expressing some slighting,
now, seems no day passes without dissing or gaslighting.
The world is too loud and I need placid times,
but my thoughts are ambushed by protest and crimes.
While burning, and looting, history they replace,
bringing to their movement resentment and disgrace.
Today, segments of some cities are facing a coup,
there’s so much fake news, who knows what is true?
It’s cleverly reported inciting anger to peak,
tongues utter only what sinful hearts speak.
We witness flags ablaze and monuments torn down,
society as we knew it, has experienced a meltdown.
If revenge is payment for wrongs of some past day,
God has declared, “vengeance is mine; I will repay.”*
*Romans 12:19
“Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.”
God speaks as conscience;
childlike innocence.
When we disobey,
soul’s blue skies turn grey.
The ever changing moods of a soul that longs to be free
can be varied and vast like an ocean's fluctuate artistry
So often we lose the hearing of the young
replacing it with stubborn ears of old that refuse to believe
Having stared at grey skies for a lifetime we no longer
sheen the Faith of our forefathers ;
We never turn the finger nor blame the culprit
for the turning of events
we turn a blind eye to our past actions
the ones that have led us astray;
God speaks as conscience but sometimes
we interpret His voice any which way we please
when soul's blue skies turn grey,
whos fault is it anyway !
Betrayed by our hand,
life’s barren and bland,
until we awake;
dark desires forsake.
Engulfed in the carnage desires of flesh and wanton beat
we lose sight of the glorious pregnant gardens of our youth
Slighting beauty we abuse of the God given gift of choice
we opt for a barren and bland life of repetitive fractal sins;
Betrayed by our own hand we have no recourse
until we awaken to the calling of an Arching blessing;
Then we move into a colored world full of bright nuances,
where everyone can see that we have finally understood
the true meaning of being fully awakened by the Spirit.
Amen !
as a young child I loved to write
my small sharp pencil I'd hold tight
and close my eyes with inner sight
grasp well what I was thinking
with rhymes and rhythm blinking
I wrote throughout my teenage years
then took some pauses filled with cheers
to foster life in other spheres
with husband's love caressing
and our three children blessing
the words all slept as years flew by
until one day I thought to try
and wake them up so they could fly
find rhythm now awaiting
as I assume creating
hooray my poems multiplied
no longer did they need to hide
I published two small books with pride
while most poems were heading
on PS website spreading
since then the time has flown so fast
my golden years are here at last
with rhyme and rhythm still a blast
so happy to be writing
though memory is slighting . . .
let my rhythm flow
I won't pick out one special Poetry Soup poet
None of us are worthy of being a poet Laureate
Choosing just one who has skills shouldn't be a goal
It's like separating a favorite sheep from the foal
Saying its wool has the most beautiful fleece
doesn't seem to be the right way to have peace
There are many poets who write with quality
and if I choose only one, I'd owe an apology
to those I didn't honor by using their name
I don't want to be guilty and won't take the blame
for entering any contest on Poetry Soup
that might hurt someone's feelings in the group
Picking a favorite could cause further division
I don't think alienating any poet is a good decision
Congrats to those who earn it with great writing
No one deserves to be overlooked by slighting
It's my opinion so I have the freedom to say
If peace is to exist in PS, it won't be found this way
Some great poems are written as lyrics to a song
but naming one above the others seems wrong
Tell those you admire by making kind comments
Prevent hurt feelings and ill will before it ferments
Such divisiveness might hurt another poet's heart
It's not pleasant to taste buds, too sour and too tart
i stood there.
i stood there looking into his eyes,
his eyes.
his eyes were warm,
warmth which i cannot explain in this century.
warmth.
oranges, yellows, pinks,
warmth which hugs your tired feet,
warmth you imagine when you are alone and lonely,
warmth.
his eyes were warm.
his face, sweet.
so sweet.
sweet enough to give it a tug,
give it a tug or two,
a sweet
tender
tug.
because he knew him,
and i knew him,
and he knew that i knew him,
i knew that he knew that i knew,
and it was silence.
silence of sweetness.
sweetness of god.
the sweetened you might imagine,
in gods honey bee garden.
the smell of flowers.
the delightful smell,
of spring,
of laughter,
of surprise of youth.
the sweet taste of love.
the pond you hope to swim in for eternity,
this sweetness.
i saw.
i felt,
my heart puddled into this sweetness.
this nectar.
one might only feel in god,
i saw in his eyes.
and his face.
warm face.
warm heart.
a winters oven heart.
gladly embracing the lonely stranger,
so mercifully,
so gently.
tall he stands
looking slighting down
into my eyes.
eyes which can only hope to flower.
to yearn
for tender touch.
body mind and soul
embrace.
a dance of,
orange and blue.
green and red.
yellow and purple.