Long Slouched Poems
Long Slouched Poems. Below are the most popular long Slouched by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slouched poems by poem length and keyword.
Peter in the summer morning sun
his cool smile shaded by shadows run
his voice as soothing as coffee’s scent
tell me he wasn’t heaven sent
Peter of Malibu moss and Spanish rose
his lips like light-coral, in kissable repose
his legs slouched akimbo, like a tiger’s limbs
how I long to re-entangle myself in them.
Peter’s quick caress, on windy Tropez beaches
aren’t men the most delightful, of nature's invasive species?
I miss the jeweler’s precision, of his warm and playful hands
and how the sun slowly gifted him, with a model’s golden tan.
Peter sipping coffee under a brittle, New Haven sun,
his rough laugh following something silly I’d done.
There’s no cryptic, localized pathology, happening at the beach,
when the two of us are together, our worlds just seem complete.
.
.
Songs for this:
What the World Needs Now by Tori Holub & James Wilkas
be mine by strongboi
I don’t think I have ever written another poem of such emotional intensity! I was bedridden for almost four months. It was at such a desperate moment that I thought of scribbling down my feelings of despair and I found words coming out like a sudden spurt! It was a new awakening! I wrote nearly 34 poems in a period of nearly two and a half months, all in bed which I included in my first collection entitled BEATS. I still believe it was something providential...! Never had I written a single poem before!!
Left alone in a dull and dreary mood,
With none to lean on and look for,
I tethered my soul to sordid gloom,
And chained my fancy, never letting it soar.
Dull were the days and sore were the nights,
Time slouched on in mechanical beats.
Mind devoid of all buoyant thoughts,
Senses shut to every cheery throb of life,
I lay awake, staring on the ceiling above,
My eyes, so lost in a fixed stare,
Never a smile lighted up my stony face,
Nor a gleam of hope brightened up my brain.
Inertia crept over from head to foot.
I had long lost my zest for life,
With life saps drained out like an empty well,
I felt nothing but the heat of scorching drought.
Nothing could move my grief laden soul,
None could lift the weight off my back,
Embers of fire sparked from the anvil of my heart,
Heaves of sighs escaped from parched mouth,
I wriggled and writhed in unspeakable pain,
My spirits sank deeper into a slithery marsh,
I saw around only a thick pall of gloom,
Or was it a projection of my own self?
Anguish gnawed my nerves and sinews,
Flames of pain danced within my spine,
I felt my head so heavy and beginning to reel,
And the heavy weight of lead all around my neck.
I felt being pushed down to abysmal depths,
And the octopus tightening its tentacles all around
Who on earth will set me free?
What on earth can lift me up?
With thundering force, the question shook my weary self.
I sprang to my feet and broke loose my chains,
I found I was but in self – exile,
A captive entrapped within boundless space.
I saw the door opening to infinite lengths,
And the arched horizon looming larger than life,
I spread my wings and propelled up,
And darted through the clouds to distant shores,
Never to come down, where I thought I could dwell forever.
Conley Pratt slouched over the horn
of a battered and trail-worn saddle,
been on the run for several hours now
after being caught rustling cattle.
His side ached, caked in fresh blood
from where a large bullet had struck,
he heard a gurgling rasp in each breath,
and knew he was running low on luck.
He’d never expected to end up here,
a hunted, desperate, ailing rustler,
but times had been hard, he’d made a choice
and now rode, despondent, for the border.
He saw it ahead, just a small stake
that stuck out of the dull, desert ground.
Then somebody shouted,”Look, there he goes!”
Conley did not even bother turning 'round.
He spurred his old roan, pushing onwards,
each step painfully jarring his wound,
He gritted his teeth, and kept up the gallop,
he would be reaching safety soon.
He crossed over then, be he didn’t stop,
not knowing they’d give up the chase.
Shots rang out, and one caught his arm,
but the posse did not push on his way.
Moaning, and bleeding from a new gash,
he struggled hard to maintain his path,
But he’d reach her, he’d reach his Marlena,
and then there’d be no looking back!
He could see her now in his mind’ eye,
tanned skin, dark eyes, and straight hair,
his Mexican beauty, she had pledged to him,
with Marlena there would be no despair.
And now since he could never go back,
he would take her down before the priest,
But first he would have to heal from these wounds,
by ministrations she’d give tenderly.
Her two-room hut came arose in twilight,
And from within it came a soft glow,
bathing in lantern light an adobe wall,
and a small, rectangular widow.
Conley slumped lower, horse trotting on,
having reached the place just in time,
His stomach throbbed, his lungs labored,
without help he faced the end of the line.
He dismounted slowly, then limped on up
and through the window did he see
Marlena on her back, long legs spread wide
while a tall man thrusted vigorously.
Conley’s strength flagged at the mere sight
and he slumped against the hard wall,
his vision faded out to the sound of her cries,
The fates really had taken it all…
CONTINUES IN PART II.
She sat on a park bench late Christmas night
a hallmark moment in my memory.
For relaxing there, she was quite the sight
her face shone as if buffed by emery.
The soft snow lay like a fluffy duvet
covering all in a blanket of white.
And sitting slouched in a casual way,
her silhouette stood out in the moonlight.
She blended right in with the Yuletide mood
earphones on, listening to Christmas songs.
And finding her there I didn't intrude
for in her mind, she was where she belongs.
There are many ways to gift a present
sometimes, simply by not being present.
Nov. 24, 2018
"Children are God's greatest gift. In their smiles, mothers dry their tears"
by Poet
Waited in vain through long barren years
To see a toddler taking unsteady steps
Calling me mom, his toothless gum pressed to my breast
Years slouched away without any happy tiding
Went from doc to doc, looking for a remedy
They in unison said little was the chance
Knew prayer was the sole resort
And waited for a miracle to happen
After years of prayerful waiting
At last, sensed the feeble signs of life within
A dream come true, a long wish fulfilled
The dainty Darling of our life, so very near!
Like an eagle in its aerial route,
Flew my spirits in ecstatic rounds
Like the Swallow, soaring high above,
My fancy took wings and set to fly.
With promises full and hopes in store,
To fill the void within our souls
To burst the silence with the clatter of sounds
To dispel the gloom that hovered on
He came,
High from Heaven like a cherubim sent,
With the glow of umpteen candles lit,
To gladden our doleful hearts,
To deliver us of our blighted state
He came,
Like the first rain on parched ground,
To drench the arid lands in profuse shower,
To ease the prick of sweltering heat,
To put out the fire of growing drought
He lay close to me, the bundle of joy!
His dark little eyes poised on my face,
Full with words on silent lips,
And innocence on his glistening visage
I peered into that cute little face,
The face I had long fondled in my dreams,
I whirled in the feel of prime feed,
And swam in the glory of maternal bliss!
(It was after long 12 years of waiting and after rigorous treatment for acute endometriosis, that our first son was born to us at a time when we had given up all hopes. Our joy knew no bounds. We firmly believe it is through divine intervention)
26. May 2018
Divine Intervention Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Chantelle Ann Cooke
Judged on 1/15/2022
Entered for Writing Challenge X'd Poems
Second Chance Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
It's been a while; I took a beer from the bar
and sat in a booth
which obscured the view, the world
and myself.
I wanted to be a young man
needing a young woman, but the head of the pint
soaked my mind into a quickly foaming reality
that I had to watch go flat.
I kind of slouched in the seat,
a tired-eyed server asked me
"if I was Okay”?
I dry mouthed a thin-lipped grin,
she looked away,
maybe she was avoiding a sight
in my sore eyes.
I ordered fries, to change the subject
or distract - not sure which.
It was dark by then
my reflection in a window
was too much to comprehend.
Slowly I drained the bottom of the glass
of any further meaning.
I felt better.
The fries had not yet arrived,
maybe they never did.
I eased myself out of one empty space
to enter another.
I had to try to walk away
from an old movie in my head.
It's hard.
This feeling that easily becomes cozy.
The possibility of being shown something new.
The introduction of new words, new emotions.
Soon to discover fear of loss.
This possibility that brings to life an life altering halt
Before anything major has happened.
A social construct that thrives on reciprocation.
Slouched across the couch.
Found in sudden hesitation.
Wanting to move, but not wanting to lose that comfortable feeling.
The thought of having to find that spot all over again.
It's accumulation of warmth.
Everything that went into finding the good news
Then realizing that you have no one to tell it too.
Or even worse.
Realizing that the remote is on the other side of the room.
Written: October 22, 2023 For Brian Stand Contest
_____________________________________________
Lonesome
gorgeous tree
almost standing straight
I discovered the splendor there
decorative branches is wonderful
can the candied sticks be in a pristine state?
seems as if an old sled had demise standby
there is a slouched spiritual book on the table
a little light-weary
tie a vivid crimson bow
yet, loops let you feel loopy
the angels' wing plumes fluttered
the beard on saint was blown haywire
teddy bear lays on his side after chasing pooh
a blue drum, afar of perch, flips in on its thin legs
the rocking horse doesn't rock just crouches in place
the lighthouse appears
extremely out of the setting
the moon tipped over on its side
an inside-the-tree-flying reindeer as well
It seems the pinecones are around to oust
saffron beads block the light from an elfin lamp
jack-in-the-box is positioned parallel to the facade
the nutcracker prince maintains there is a problem
the gingerbread man is gaunt in his standing position
the snowman lacks zest and lacks any sort of charisma
utterly, the reindeer fails to eventuate and to be in charge
gorgeous, isolated tree
Inching its way toward decay
bringing flawed beauty into the home
and a profound gratitude for everything I have
Left alone in a dreary mood, utterly broken
With none to lean on and look for,
She tethered her soul to sordid gloom,
And chained her fancy, never letting soar
Dull were the days and sore were the nights,
Time slouched on in mechanical beats,
Mind devoid of any buoyant thoughts,
Senses shut to every cheery throb of life,
She lay awake, staring at the ceiling above,
Her eyes so lost in a fixed stare,
Never a smile lighted her stony face,
Nor a gleam of hope brightened up her brain.
Inertia crept over from head to foot.
She had long lost her zest for life,
With life saps drained out like an empty well,
She felt nothing but the heat of scorching drought.
Nothing could move her grief laden soul,
None could lift the weight off her back,
Embers of fire sparked from the anvil of her heart,
Heaves of sighs escaped from her parched mouth,
She wriggled and writhed in unspeakable pain,
Her spirits sank deeper into a slithery marsh,
She saw around only a thick pall of gloom,
Or was it a projection of her own self?
Anguish gnawed her nerves and sinews,
Flames of pain danced within her spine,
She felt her head beginning to reel,
And the heavy weight of lead all around her neck.
She felt being pushed down to abysmal depths,
And the octopus tightening its tentacles all around
Who on earth will set me free?
What on earth can lift me up?
With thundering force the question shook her weary self.
She sprang to her feet and broke loose her chains,
She found she was but in self – exile,
A captive entrapped within boundless space.
She saw the door opening to infinite lengths,
And the arched horizon looming larger than life,
Unbroken, she spread her wings and propelled up,
And darted through the clouds to distant shores
(Own Story)
Subject UNBROKEN
''U'' Contest, New Poems Only Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Even when the sun shines bright
a grey cumulus cloud suddenly looms
over my radiant horizon
stealing light, luster and luminosity,
blurring everything, blocking out clear sight.
Negative thoughts come marauding into me,
like burglars hiding in ambush coming to plunder
all that have been laboriously gathered in a life time.
I know I am unhappy over nothing,
but I am motivated with nothing.
This internal paralysis seeps into my being.
It fastens its tight grip on me day by day
Sometimes I feel so scared and desperate,
as if the sap and serum in me is going dry
and the feathers on my wings wilt and whither
like dead leaves, preventing my upward flight
My lips once so eloquent and expressive,
have now fallen silent and still.
All the words I have carefully gleaned and gathered,
have slipped and slid into a bottomless abyss.
I feel I am a tramp at life’s dead end.
At times despair overwhelms me
and I struggle to keep my tears at bay.
I am a planet running out of its elliptical orbit,
with a fatal crash to burn out soon
somewhere on its path like a falling meteor.
I feel the weight of life pressing me down.
Paralyzed by the intensity of my thoughts,
I am unable to move and I seek rest on my bed.
Time moves on in speeding pace
and I am still slouched on my bed, unable to get up
not bound by any visible chains,
but by the bondage of my own make.
I must break loose the noose stifling my breath.
The moment this thought blew into me like a wild wind,
I sense my heart beating with a stronger pulse.
Again the winter's freezing chill can no more still me.
I must resurrect from the pit I am in.
Why wait, I see the horizon stretching far.