Long Stress Poems
Long Stress Poems. Below are the most popular long Stress by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stress poems by poem length and keyword.
Addiction is what happens
when mediation doesn't happen.
Addiction is what happens
with my feelings
when mediation doesn't happen
in MeWe conscious thoughts.
Addiction is what happens
with bipolar up and down
dipolar co-arising feelings
when compassionate mediation
doesn't happen in ego/eco-systemic
bicameral Both/And thoughts.
Addiction
to hearing oneself chatter away
is what happens
when more modest mediation
doesn't happen.
Addiction to fast-paced competition happens
when cooperative mediation doesn't.
Addiction happens
when mediation
doesn't, quite so much.
Addiction
to mediation
doesn't do much.
Mediating
addictions
does all else.
Got to be in the moment. Live. Be present.
Forget the past. Don’t anticipate the future. Just live.
To presently live is to let go of anxious thoughts.
Let go of held stress baring weights.
Let go of everything that causes you to worry day in and day out.
However, future must be blocked.
Yeah, it’s good to think about the future and plan,
But too much futuristic planning
Can cause us to miss out on what’s sustaining in the present.
In the present, I find peace. I find relief.
I find presence with myself, my spirit, my soul, my God.
It’s what I look forward to.
Receiving intellect, reasoning, realizations, epiphanies,
Taking time to inhale in oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide to the earth.
Oxygen to presently live
Carbon dioxide to release whatever that doesn’t serve me.
Today, I choose to simply be and live in the present.
I reminisce, I miss
the sound of our giggles as we lay -
my sisters and I – on our beds
whispering into those sweltering summer nights
until inevitably, my stepdad
yelled up the stairs at us to go to sleep!
I would put my face right up to the fan
which loudly whirred inside the window
at the foot of my bed.
Those were the nights of easy sleep
and easy dreams.
Little was my stress; large was my joy.
And oh, those summer days
when we awoke to no more school.
My siblings and I rode bikes around town,
or sometimes we walked miles -
while sucking on popsicles - to the city pool
where we’d splash around carefree all afternoon.
Friends also monopolized my adolescent life.
Oh, those fun slumber parties
at which no one ever seemed to slumber!
Games, the music of our time,
and chit-chat about boys consumed us
late into the night.
Picnic reunions with church folks or with relatives:
always the sight, smell and taste of homemade meals
I recall: the wonderful homemade potato salads,
fried chicken, burgers and hot dogs on the grill,
Mom’s homemade Sunday pot roast with mashed potatoes . . .
I could go on forever.
But back to the night I go -
of those hot but lovely summer firefly nights
where sleep and dreams came easy
I reminisce, I miss.
March 28, 2021
for the contest of James Edward Lee Sr.
Now for A Brian Strand July 8 Poetry Contest
The New Year has come wafting on the wings of winter
The high latitudinal areas of the northern hemisphere
Would be in the grip of frequent snowstorms severe
Throwing life in desolate isolation and out of gear.
The cold wave sub-zero conditions of deprivation would persist
In many sections of population for in poverty they can’t subsist
Who wouldn’t see for long the sun of subservient survival
Through the dense fog of abject abandon and rueful refusal.
The frosty winter nights would fall with wrath
Making many frigid who would seek introvert warmth.
After the winter haze clears the weather would change
The spring would develop many high pressure regions
In the lives’ atmosphere of the aspirant people
Living in the spreading mist of uncertain future climate
With the hope of clear blue sky and sunny temperate days.
They have to brace for the increasing ambient temperature
In the thermal islands in the wake of global warming true or not.
The fanatic heat waves in the summer of discontent
Could blow dust of hatred in the raging desert storm
Might sweep like nimbus cloud across the tormented humanity.
The overcast monsoon sky may fall asunder
After unpredictable cloud burst one after another
On gloomy minds plunged in the trough of depression.
They would sink in the flood brought by heavy rains
In low pressure areas where mental stress would deepen despair.
Hurricanes and tropical storms would spin on trade winds
Wreck havoc bringing misery to many
For they would make landfall on the helpless people of destiny.
The cirrus clouds would slowly clear
The low atmospheric disturbances would subside
As the autumn would arrive sailing on the northern wind
With nip in the air and prospect of bright sunny days.
The occasional gusty winds of the fall
Would blow the broken brown leaves away
The way welted thoughts of the mind
Get swept by the squalls of fast moving times.
The old year would take our agony and dreams
Across the winter to the cold folds of another New Year
And we would wait for yet another spring another time
When our lives would bloom like flowers.
January 7, 2018.
Deep and Dark
My hankering for you, my longing for you,
my desire for you
do not allow my thirsty eyes to close the lid.
My aspiration for you, my delight for you,
my earnest zeal for you
always occupy my mind.
But how do you feel?
I am in dark still.
To listen to your voice, to respond to your call
to reciprocate your say
my eager ears are alert.
My emotion for you, my feelings for you,
my passion for you
ooze from the core of my heart.
But how do you feel?
I am in dark still.
My tension for you, my stress for you
my worries for you
do not give rest to my brain.
To know your mind, to pierce through your heart
to perceive your urge
my pulse beats are always in strain.
But how do you feel?
I am in dark still.
My grief for you, my sorrow for you,
my pain for you
opt for your soft gentle touch.
Just one glance, a little smile,
Just a simple ‘Hi’!
I won’t expect much.
But how do you feel?
I am in dark still.
My love for you
analyzed by my brain,
felt in my heart,
and defined in my mind
is released through my soul.
I could not control.
But how do you feel?
I am in dark still.
Neither brain, nor mind
neither heart nor soul
can't have any explanation.
You are beyond my guess
My brain, heart, mind
or soul can’t express.
But how do you feel?
I am in dark still.
12/26/15
Deep and Dark Contest Sixth Place
Sponsor Broken Wings
Hurl a sweet smile, hurl a fine wink;
Embrace bold stride, embrace true heart;
Align fond style, align grand think;
Live beyond pride, live cheery start;
Touch a deep core, touch a kind thrill;
Heal pain and grief, heal stress and strain;
Yield soul and more, yield charm and will.
Word a sure brief, word a thought plain;
Express a feel, express a say;
Ask just to be, ask just to see;
Love ever heals, love ever stays;
Trust pure beauty, trust zest warmly;
Heed your good sense, heed your kind heart;
Yes succeeds tense, yes fashions art.
Leon Enriquez
20 January 2015
Singapore
Dedication: For my son Michael Zachary
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Heart knows fond place in soul's good time,
Opt to feel good with lavish cheer;
Moments of grace now match sure chimes,
Etch a warm mood that gathers here;
Charm wears a glow that happy tells,
Odd as brisk change that fashions ease;
Mind in deep flow where heart feels spell,
Ink well sweet range in thoughts of peace;
Note how you feel in surge of joy,
Glimpse in the light the poignant sight;
Love knows the thrill in poise and ploy,
Old yet new flights of sheer delight;
Voice in new dawn that precious peek,
Each brilliant hue of tender tints.
Now feel this morn as light streaks,
Oblige love's due in crystal mint;
Watch for the sign of bubbly zest.
Ask peace to scope most tender still,
Notch cheer in mind what faith knows best;
Dreams flavours hope in love's goodwill.
Here with fond smiles that touch most sweet,
End comes to start an awesome cheer;
Rush mellows style as welcome greets
Embrace dear heart profound feel here.
Moves in this world can strain and stress,
Etch in pure grace both kin and kind;
Endow crisp swirls to sync and bless,
Touch spurs each face with peace of mind.
Leon Enriquez
11 December 2018
Singapore
If expensive gifts weren't a must,
the Holiday stress would be less felt;
think for a minute of no presents
being given to folks of all ages...
wouldn't it be taken as an offense?
One thought will come quickly
to everybody's mind whose focus contradicts
what Christmas really means;
only its true meaning will make us fond,
scolding us of all the wasted energy.
Childhood was an exciting experience,
waking up on Christmas day with dreamy eyes,
and find lots of toys next to our bed;
just imagine how brats would have felt,
seeing only one present on the messy carpet!
In this high technology age of sour feeling,
kids expect more sophisticated gifts with a hefty price
and they will immediately toss aside those not to their liking;
even having the guts to complain to their parents,
who thought they were doing something nice!
Let's take the trivial jollification out of the Holidays,
not the spiritual one, which is a pure joy to share...
to confirm the scope of the real message
of what Christmas really means to people everywhere,
whose thoughts are turned to the birth of Jesus!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
The house sits locked and bare;
a derelict car sputtering off
with the last of the possessions
that owned her.
Bellows of dust and sparks
trailing; lingering behind
as busted tail lights disappear
against a burnt sun horizon.
Sitting tall and square
behind the wheel of her old truck,
with bare shoulders, essentials,
and a folk rock playlist.
Windows down, volume up,
a long last look,
releasing her breath;
a slight smile twisting.
Hands, ten and two; pedal down,
heading north to anywhere,
the wind tangling her hair;
stripping away stress; urging on.
No more 40 hour weeks.
No more juggling bills.
No more corporate slavery,
building someone else's dream.
This is the moment
she became free.
*For my dearest friend Anna, who inspires me more than I am able to express.
tidings of comfort and joy
for once it is not a ploy
i can simply exhale and say 'OH BOY!'
your comforting presence i invitingly employ
let's take in this relaxing reality and just enjoy
in life, rain is gonna fall
there will be roadblocks that cause you to stall
one must find that inner strength to break through each wall
it does not matter the walk, creep, or crawl
as long as you continue to learn and grow from it all
a warm salutation and a happy celebration
through the Grace of God, we made it to this hard earned vacation
in the company of you i could not chose a better location
i am fully taken just by your character and your sophistication
alleviated is the stress and the sadness, in full boom bloom is pure elation