Long Stripped down Poems
Long Stripped down Poems. Below are the most popular long Stripped down by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stripped down poems by poem length and keyword.
Quasi Mote - Oh Ephemeral Transit Across Proto Zones!
Strictly speculation from this mind,
who contemplates stripped down version
bajillion eons ago
cosmic bit sized dots
pinwheeled thru spatial void
repulsed and/or attracted
colluding (putin on the Ritz)
infinitesimal show stopper
devoid of prior rehearsal
since previous cosmic contraction
absent remembrance
tabula rasa, viz consciousness
if rebooted, reincarnated,
repurposed, et cetera,
asper knowing nothing
perchance if previous rendition
courtesy big bang phenomena
commissioned swirling pretty
little invisible thangs
dust mote size
universe created, vis a vis
most violent explosion
blasting subatomic tidbits
bestowing, endowing, issuing, et cetera
propensity, allowing,
enabling, and providing
spontaneous quixotic, narcotic,
and kinetic (kit) impulse
gifted, kindled plenti
tinder vittle loving care,
(albeit on quark hilly
weigh small scale),
each unique data packet of life
transiently questing organic matter
linkedin within uber
webbed wide world
thrust by motive forces distilled
since primordial ooze
painstakingly agglomerated
electron's micro gravitational tug
incrementally configured
viable combinations
propelled to fraternize, collide, amass
with other distinct minuscule entities
democratic, platonic, and symbiotic
tete a tete kickstarting avast
differentiation, golong
engendering hulu costs indeed
pensively trumpeting,
deploying, and fracking
the art of the Stormy Daniels deal
eventually across great swaths of time
inaugurating edifice of complex systems
(again unimaginatively teeny tiny
timid uber pinhead size zealots)
livingsocial hoity toity groupon outlook
accruing quicken fancy feast
to concatenate, generate, and get linkedin
with hotmail to discover
visa vis whatsapp
penning with Molly Q. Wells!
Oh, you swamp me with charm - get out of my head.
There’s something about you - a warmth - like the comfort of home - that pulls at me.
I study your landscape of attractive surfaces like a star chart - logging my weaknesses - to strengthen my emotional firewall. I WANT you but my “wants” just seem untrustworthy after recent deprivations.
To be honest - I can’t afford you - not now. You’re a delicious pastry - with strings - and I need to cut all my strings.
You’re something younger me would have wanted - before the pandemic, when scandalous thinking was uncomplicated and freedoms taken for granted.
Last year simplified my reality.
Over time, boredom melted me like wax but a new me crossed some threshold of certainty - that to flourish - no, just to survive - I must become more than I am, or find I’m less than I hoped.
In 2019 goals seemed way, way someday things - far off reference points to seek out - like an inchworm. Social details occupied me like an unfocused dementia - there was an unacceptable level of childish thinking.
But now I’m an escapee on the run who won’t be taken back alive. Old attachments must be stripped down and the old world made disposable - if I’m to achieve escape velocity.
p.s. I write short stories too =]
Draft for life
everything by it's order
date
sense
on paper
will I die?
claiming that I look ridiculous
you're not laughing
you are terrified
that almighty glue
will dry in wrong lines
resulting as cracks over esophagus
then all over again
and
you can't do it anymore
I am feeling
you are what you eat
you are what you eat
you are what you eat
stripped down to the bone
I want to be a plant
dandelion
they die light
in wind's arms
I felt
it was already then determined
when
body in body stood
child
sister
friend
an acquaintance
child
you didn't want me
you
are crying
I
am happy
will I die?
What's up with all y'all?
I'm awkward and tall
Catch me before I fall
I'm dancing in the Hall of Fame
Shame just came...just came...
Tame me up in God's name
Liar and cheaters aren't tolerated here
Lick me with your fire and hold me dear
Have no fear; darling, have no fear
Steer the boat away from trouble...
Danger will double...double...
Don't burst my bubble...bubble...
Bubbled up by bubbles...
I'm not dumb - I'm a young teenager right in front of your face
I'm super deeduper smart and fantabulous in vast grace
The future has got me many places...I remember the traces
In a coma
Add on my stress like a comma...
I pause, then I go
You know, I'm living just foshow
Leave me alone, negativity
I invite you in, positivity
I need You to make me optimistic
I don't wanna be so pessimistic
Sarcasm was rolling off my tongue
You're my other lung
Lunge into me, breath of the Holy Spirit
I have a boyfriend, so quit your ****
You can eat me up bit by bit...
Because I don't throw those 5-year-old fits
Too many times have I covered up for you
You belong with me, darling, it's true
I'm a wild child for a reason
I am as magical as the winter season
Like, seriously, brah, you good in the hood
Because shame on me - I'm misunderstood
My confident stride
Is due to my bipolar ride
My confidence shines
Paying your fines
Punks and dorks are filling this room with doom
Let me bloom like a butterfly flower...consume
Happiness...resume on with your joy and peace - get a room!
I am growing like a mushroom...
I hear the explosion of excellence - boom!
The writer, the fighter...
Has came back 7-fold
I'm a sensitive guy, so don't go higher...
We are on the same level, my darling devil
I am oh so bold...
Maybe a little too much for my own good
I'm in the arms of a billion angels
In all angles...stripped down by devils
I blush, for you are the one for me
I crushed on you, my blessed baby
Let's live on and die a mighty winner
For, you are a winner, reader
Confidence shines...let's follow the Leader
I went to my tub
Turned on the tap
Watched as my sadness
Filled it to the top
The worries of many days
In the water crystal clear displayed
Deep beneath the surface layed
Summoning to me
Please come in
I stripped down
To my essence
The discarded garments
In a pile on the floor
The yesterday man
I didn't need anymore
I climbed in
Sunk into the sadness
Allowed it to caress
Warm
Somehow comfort
As it washed over me
Invigorating my complacency
Calming
Saving
Staving off
My insanity
This was my attempt
At C'est La Vie
Layers of yesterday's regrets
The calls of unpaid debts
The reasons I choose to be upset
All caught in liquid suspension
Relieving my built up tension
Once I was fully cleansed
I was able to begin again
Pulling the plug
I watched it all go down the drain
Extricating
Relieving the pain
I lifted myself
Dripping on the floor
Done with the sadness
I didn't need it anymore
I stepped over the clothes
On the floor
Left them behind
Walked out that door
Ready and willing
To face the world again
A brighter
Cleaner
Version of me
An empty tub
Happier
And free
C'est La Vie
Inspired by Eileen Ghali's poem
"Maddening Rain"
There’s a flood up in Johnstown,
there's been too much rain,
by a lake where rich people
sail and fish and play,
where the dam has been lowered
to drive carriages,
where the drains have been removed
but no one knows it;
the water starts to crest
and not a man’s at rest,
there’s a flood up in Johnstown,
there’s a flood, there’s a flood.
Theres a flood up in Johnstown,
they clearing the spillway,
men throw mud atop the dam,
crest of it to raise,
they send word down to Johnstown,
but nobody hears,
all the men start a-running,
the dam disappears;
a roar down the valley
and no one knows to flee,
there’s a flood up in Johnstown,
there’s a flood, there’s a flood.
There’s a flood up in Johnstown,
wave comes raging down,
first it come upon South Fork,
thirty houses drowned,
then hits a big viaduct,
plugs up once again,
then it tears through not caring
for the works of men;
Mineral Point gets the shock,
stripped down to the bedrock,
there’s a flood up in Johnstown,
there’s a flood, there’s a flood.
There’s a flood up in Johnstown,
it hits the rail yards,
tosses trains like a kid’s toy,
incredibly far,
then it hits the iron works,
a wall of debris,
the furnaces belch black smoke,
augur tragedy;
it’s now six-stories high,
bound up by valley sides,
there’s a flood up in Johnstown,
there’s a flood, there’s a flood.
There’s a flood up in Johnstown,
wood and glass all fly,
people hurled by the water,
in seconds they die,
whole buildings ripped form the ground,
turned into debris,
it mere seconds it flattened
half of the city;
and most of the wreckage
slams into the rail bridge,
there’s a flood up in Johnstown,
there’s a flood, there’s a flood.
There’s a flood up in Johnstown,
the end of the flow,
trees, rail cars, and smashed buildings
stacked against the road,
then the whole thing starts burning,
kills those trapped inside,
in the span of mere minutes
two thousand have died;
do people stop and pray
when the cross that bridge today,
there’s a flood up in Johnstown,
there’s a flood, there’s a flood.
I may not
like it
Most
au contraire
But writing
it true
Your right
to share
Our language
different
Our thoughts
opposed
Yet both
defined
By what
we know
Each word
denotes
What pain
would hide
Unto
ourselves
The meaning
thrives
With couplets
foreign
And quatrains
skewed
Our Muses
strangers
Respect
— on view
**
Inception
Tomorrow freshly baited
— the future reborn
**
The Beury Building
Art deco
majestic
she waits
in the dust
Broad and Erie’s
‘Grande Olde Dame’
her memory
in trust
Of ancient
glories
from the past
stripped down to the bone
Set to rise
with fate reprised
where boyhood visions
— grow
**
Is your soul waking?
(A lone voice whispers)
Every day, do people look for a life-changing truth but has it become commercial
A new rehearsal by an old hidden hand
For that truth,
The real truth
Is it hidden throughout the land
And is the soul indentured at birth to conform to its new norm
To never see it
But is the human experience
Stripped down to its essential form
Does it have its own unique voice
Light and sound
A soul
Not indentured to wander around self-blinded
If it pauses in a commercialised world to look around
Not indentured to not
learning to read or speak its own inner language
For a lifetime of reading thousands of books
Will not give us the truth
Some are looking for in a quest of soul reshaping
We can only be guided by living life through better eyes
Before we all die
And is that why you're here
Because you love writing or reading poetry
Because it's your soul speaking and expressing its true inner language
As it overcomes indentured barriers of fears
For some say the greater part of the soul lies outside
Not inside the body
In a simple truth called soul waking
Experiencing all we meet
Before our time as human beings is retaken
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
By the afternoon I was back-on-my-toes.
Almost every night my roommates and I sit around a low table in the common room of our suite, crossed legged, on cushions and do our homework. It’s less claustrophobic than sitting in our rooms alone and we usually have some music on, lowkey, in the background.
We’d just heard “Love Story,” by Taylor Swift.
“I like songs that make love sound easy.” I stated.
“Oh, because it IS easy,” Anna says sarcastically, “grab yourself a physicist and make a TikTok song.”
“Hey! I’ve got a beef with TikTok artists, I said. “At first, they release these stripped down, intimate, acoustic songs that feel personal, and then, if a song hits, they put out a new version that’s totally overproduced.”
“Right.” Leong agreed.
“Oh, yeah,” Sophie said, putting her hair back out of her face with a comb, “and some artists' voices are suited to simple accompaniment and the newer versions just don’t hit as hard.”
“I think Phoebe Bridgers is an example of production done right.” Anna said. “Her material continues to sound intimate and stripped down even though it’s no longer just her and a guitar,”
“On Tiktok,” Lisa adds, “when a new song works, I feel a connection, like it could be me recording a song with my guitar - so, I support them.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” I updogged, “there’s a place for overproduction but sometimes the instruments don’t even sound real, like when they go all out electronic - then they lose me.”
“The big-music might drown-out the artistry we liked,” Anna opined, “but maybe that’s how they heard it, as songwriters, in their imagination, but they couldn’t afford it - the new version rectifies it.”
.
.
slang...
back-on-my-toes = feeling back to normal / back in the game
updogg = when you add your two cents to an ongoing dialog.
I went to a monster party,
At Castle Frankenstein;
With lots of food and spirit,
The fun kicked off at nine
Ol' Frankie did the robot,
I stepped to a jitterbug;
The floor began to quake,
We really cut the rug!
I moved on to a sexy witch,
We slid across the room;
I broke down in a two-step,
While dancing with her broom
I was jammin' to the Charleston,
The Werewolf joined in too;
Igor failed to fight the beat,
He danced without a clue
Dracula did the tango,
I boogied with the Bride;
The Mummy looked bewildered,
As we did the electric slide
I tap danced on a table,
Three zombies did the same;
I stripped down to my boxers,
They shouted out my name!
Jekyll was rather classy,
Wielding his futile pride;
When the music struck within,
He turned to Mr. Hyde!
The chandelier was shaking,
Skeletons hit the floor;
I danced to a rumba,
The crowd was wanting more!
Everything was peachy,
Oh what a beautiful night;
Along came the Invisible Man,
And started an awful fight!
He squeezed the Bride's booty,
Other ladies felt the same;
And when the dust had settled,
Guess who took the blame?!
Off went the music,
So long to our fun;
I had no other option,
But to tuck my tail and run!
Those who partied with me,
Were raising such a chatter;
The crowd was crying out,
"Put his head on a platter!!"
I aroused the little lady,
To an ear-piercing scream;
Hallelujah for a nightmare,
It was just an awful dream
Was it really just a dream?
A thought raced through my head;
"Honey, I have a question",
"Why's that witch hat on our bed?"