Long Subsist Poems
Long Subsist Poems. Below are the most popular long Subsist by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Subsist poems by poem length and keyword.
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.
I didn't trust that I could post strong words
that would import my wish to grant insight
to visions that whirl round within my brain-
by blocking out a common grammar mark.
Oh, words- with such profusion you subsist
apart from using this most basic sign!
I push to find out just how far I'll go,
by working through this quaint activity.
By this third stanza- now I fathom it-
my mind dismissing no-go form of words.
Vocabulary grants broad ways to mold;
much fun it is commanding, shaping it!
At last- a random, abstract notion stirs!
"Must lavish all your days with rightful ways
that bring tranquility to what you do-
by sharing your strong amity and skills."
At last, my skill did fill this task at hand-
as kind, inspiring words impart my thought!
A workaround did soon display pay-off-
and so, this missing part of words- forgot!
July 17, 2020
~10th Place~
Premier Contest: Lipogram Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Judged: 07/27/2020
(Blank Verse /Lipogram No Letter “E” permitted)
It is safe here; safe because it’s mine;
I don’t control it, but I understand it; I’ve lived here for a long time.
It’s not freedom, for freedom doesn’t exist;
we are no more free than the laws within which we subsist.
This place… you cannot feel, touch, or see, but believe me when I tell you, it’s more real than you or me.
With out this place, nothing is, nor nothing need to be;
it’s all just a precious invention, of causality.
Truly a thing of beauty, for it is the only thing to end;
everything else recycles time and time again.
An escape from this endless insanity I see with open eyes,
for as soon as I close them, the insanity dies.
Remember it is safe here, it’s safe because it’s mine;
a place where I can go, where everything is sublime.
Genuine love is loveless
Whereof the heart is beclouded
With mystic, monastic and metaphysical aura
Only minds as deep as the Congo river can contain.
'Tis when fair love subsist
That spiritual, ethical and philosophical
Transcend all mundane forms and allures
That are subject to the acid test of time and change.
'Tis to disdain honeycombs
To find relish in bitter herbs is rare
And have wants and longings lay in catacombs
Beside the sweet amusing bed of roses it is but to dare.
'Tis to know what it is
Love dwells in spirit and not physique
And its form is literal but not imaginative
And its essence not naive but rather philosophical!
The furniture clatters around me.
An illustrious barrel of a goodbye.
The sweater feels like a prop; a famed memo to the stage I subsist on.
A famed memo to the audience I secrete from.
A famed memo to the veracity I refute from.
I soar across the stage, each cry an offering to the void of my shrouded forbearance.
Its crestfallen crumbles stroke the silver of my scars.
Its impeded hamper caresses the gold of my dune.
Its incumbered burden engulfs the bronze of my bane.
Each string pulls at the silenced span of my limbs, a muted call for mercy.
The ignominy of their vigour sings a melodic turpitude against the evil of my imitation.
The potency of their strength strips me until I dress with nothing but the disinclined humiliation of my lingering obedience.
Each relic of their excess sadism carves a carnage into my eternally dissipated flesh.
The sapped vex of its chafe stamps restated stains of a sinful hein; a wound of my forever domination.
Blots of blood pool onto the stage, a sacrificial submission to the performance of my moulding stupor.
The decay of my illumination pulls at me.
A distinct elucidation to the corruption of my core.
A puppet bound by her own vein-stricken strings.
IF I could make maize grow in a desert
Then that power I possess by your will,
That which can make static air become wind,
That which can cause trees swing side by side.
If I feel down and out right now,
It is that I am not living by your shadow
For when I walk in your shadow I feel my heart serene,
It gives me strength to walk on, to live
THE moment I stray far from you,
I come face-a-face with my enemies I fear,
I meet straight out with devastation,
I discover that all green grass is brown-scorched
And flowers of yesterday have drooped in the sun
As if sulking as in suffering from a cold;
The mountain appears massive and strange
And I speculate: alone who can craft a mountain?
The flash I drift far from you,
The sea ripples with fumed waves and iced storms
As if it is a combat zone for warring nations
WHEN I struggle with you in my soul,
I get upset and my essence sheds tears
Not of hate, but of my incredible love for you,
I am derisory and without you am dead
For I cannot have sane mind-set anymore,
I feel like a man who died two centuries ago.
I cannot lope far from you as your shadow is ample
And it has unsullied, piercing eyes
That can see anything veiled and exposed;
I cannot talk sick of you my superior,
Your sharp ear resembling that of a wild hare
Hears the lot I whisper, you are amazing
I will not think perverse of you
Since you already know what I think,
You know when I am faking at you.
SO by your shadow I shall subsist,
It is not momentary like that of human beings,
Even when the sun is out of the array
And when the moon has botched as often,
Your shadow still shall be felt universally,
Though it can never be seen by man;
By your shadow I shall live
And my heart and soul I shall wholly give you
As a token of my sky-love for you my grace.
What else can I give you other than my heart?
Other than my passionate true love?
When folks are young, they may feel blessed
But I coped with bullies, life felt stressed,
I started eating a lot, food always there
In theory a good thing, in my case a snare,
I ate whole boxes of doughnuts, chocolate cake too
Into my mouth, tasty pastries flew
Ate myself sick, could not disgorge
Then tried to run it off, body in a forge
Got strange symptoms, my extremities cold
Felt fatigue in the morning, I was young, but felt old
When I had a craving, to voraciously eat
In the battle of will, it was always a defeat.
The Hypothalamus is a pea shaped organ in the brain
Supposed to regulate craving, but my mark of Cain
Suppose to regulate reproductive urges too
When that kicked in, shame added to the stew
Not good or bad, food is meant to subsist
but If I went by a bakery, I could not resist
I'd pay for the delicacies, eat them standing there
People looked at me, I pretended not to care
Tried to eat bulk, solve the craving crime
In dark alleys, ate whole watermelons at a time,
If I had to buy something, I'd mail home the change
A life of privilege, led to something so strange.
Food was my master, it controlled me.
But I fasted part time, that's how I broke free.
I quieted down the enemy, now a friend
Got a second wind, a damaged man on the mend.
Got Shock Treatments, and Thorazine,
Helped with the symptoms, stopped snacks, wiped clean.
It wasn't all normal, I needed tricks for control
Trying to conquer what swallowed my soul.
The past can't be changed, but can one break the spell?
Avoid the positive feedback into hell?
You have to be selective, not clear out life's shelf
Discipline is needed for sanity and health
Not much is known about the traps in the mind
I've been in some, hope I left them behind
Should I blame myself, or blame my brain
Can any recrimination wipe out the stain?
When you're down in this life, baddies swoop with glee
Like vultures circling a wounded prey, they came for me.
They latched on, like an octopus in a marsh
I tried to tell my story, but it sounded mad, too harsh.
But it did make me think, as the iron rules kicked in
A harsh lesson learned in a world where mercy runs thin.
I should turn my back on the past, though I should not forget
My new problems are worse, but I freed my mind from the net
For Constance's Contest
Write sixteen beautiful lines
05/13/2025
The moment I cast all indecision
to subsist in peace without suspicion
The moment I shed all premonition
And wake up in truth without persuasion
The moment I find in introspection
A silent blessing on strong foundation
The moment I face realization
And join in light and life’s celebration
The moment I rise in still elation
Above the anguish of life’s commotion
The moment I feel the inspiration
Of true love beyond imagination
The moment I bask in admiration
And meekly kneel in great devotion
The moment I exult in God’s creation
Then my soul awakens to salvation
Tom’s Thoughts
August 22, 2020
2:30 AM
Sometimes, like comets, thoughts rush by,
as dust bunnies escaping from an unquiet mind.
Drinking from a pool that’s polluted by hate,
will leave a craving that’s never satisfied.
Those who bathe in entitlement’s pool,
remain each morning, a lazy, unclean fool.
We drink our fill from pools of success,
but our thirst for more is never sated.
Streets filled with protesters full of hate,
will find their thirst never quenched.
While many subsist on fine cuisine,
others are existing on crumbs that have fallen from the table.
Valiant efforts to try to resist
Glistening white frost gloating to stay.
Outside movement stops a whiteness subsist.
Trees harden as soldiers, not any sway.
Laid naked, hold fast in the stark of day.
Cold current bristle clouds nondescript gray.
Mother Nature’s thermostat set on freeze,
Favorite evergreens frozen to the ground
My asthmatic self cannot help but wheeze
Glittering wonderland, looks heaven-bound.
No footsteps yet, snowy air without sound
Glorious comforter covers all ground
A reverent feeling, this solitude
Enjoying beauty of winter’s white frock
Overcome with a joyous gratitude,
Beautiful day sees meaning in a hawk
Majestically calm, not even a squawk
When I look at the hawk’s eyes, our souls lock
Winter has arrived, takes over of course,
A beautiful sight, a reckoning force.
Written 12-02-2018 Contest: Winter Wonderland
Sponsor: Emile Pinet