Long Subtracting Poems
Long Subtracting Poems. Below are the most popular long Subtracting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Subtracting poems by poem length and keyword.
Hovering close
To the brilliant hues
Scarlet and gold
Sapphire so bold
Purple and lilac, lavender
Vibrant and alive
Like the dancing fireflies
Soaring, singing delight
Reflecting the joy
Caressing petals, delicious
Cuisine, rich, exciting
Vibrating with sensations
Lively like the wind
Gentling every sunset
Erasing all distress
With the melody of hope
Kissing my wings
Awakening my dreams
Snatching morsels, relishing
Wishes, beckoning praise
For the wonders
Secret grace, remarkable
Subtle lights of fires
Breathing laughter, subtracting
Whispers of darkness
Removing the buds and pollen
Crosspollinating with passions
Ablaze and in fashion
Reassuring the clouds
As they drift on seas of azure
Soft and delicate, suspended
On air, breathing the potent
Scent of faith, elation
Replacing doubt
Flying, buzzing, energetic
Like a humming star
Stirring up the wonders
Peaceful thoughts
Drifting across the heavens
Calling out to be blessed
By the One who brings light
Removes the darkest night
Singles out a star, falling
Awakening the heart
To a rapture, a pure freedom
Found in the proof
His love is everlasting
I am the one who grows
Stronger and more alive
With each passing flower’s nutrients
Flowing through my veins
Feeding the queen who reigns
With silent comfort
The ambition strong, faithfully
Reaching beyond the mist
Seas of fog and rumors, vapors
Murmuring through the image
Busy with nourishing
Our queen, the one we believe
Is more important
Than ever was a king
Other than the One, the true king
Who created us to be bees!
Bee Creative Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Matt Caliri
May 28, 2022
Time, what is time? Relentless and an unstoppable force
The passage of time, how is it measured?
An hourglass, A glass that measures hours
Particles of sand pours down
Adding on and not subtracting
Multiplying and not dividing
A continuous stream of motion
Accumulating
Counting
Day by day
Minute by minute
Time flies
I caught it, in my hourglass
I grasp the hands of time tightly
All written in a clear record
And held under a death-defying grip
That remains and is never unleashed
Hearing the sand slither down
Second come; second goes
Where does it go? I do not know
Maybe, time travelers know, ask them
Look for them at the portal’s entrance
Traveling through the sands of time
The same time which is encapsulated
Alas, within my hourglass undoubtedly preserved within
Light is kin to vapor,
to certain fogs,
and the effervescence of ideas,
yet Edward Hopper’s summer light,
when it comes late in the afternoon,
is solid, opaque,
the color of soft butter,
heavy with heat and remorse,
raking low through the window,
its yellow rectangle
falling across the floor.
The woman is nude,
standing still,
alone in that block of light,
the shadows of her legs
subtracting thick black lines
behind her, pointing toward the door
not seen through which her lover
departed only a moment ago.
See how the bedcover is rolled down,
the sheets wrinkled,
the after-cigarette
casually held in her right hand
while she stares absent-mindedly
at the floor as smokers will do between drags,
lost in thought and recollection
and questions of how did it come to this?
Her angular naked body,
no doubt soft and yielding
while in the throes,
has become a rough impasto,
perhaps Hopper’s way
of portraying her authentic self.
Oddly, her left breast
appears to be an afterthought,
forcing her shoulders toward me,
while her hips and eyes
face the window.
Can the human body rotate this way,
clockwise and anticlockwise and clockwise
simultaneously,
requiring the oddest skeletal geometry?
My own geometry
is a more modest version
of this torsion,
so perhaps Hopper’s vision
isn’t impossible after all.
Perhaps...
Her lover has gone now,
the afternoon’s business done.
They will go their separate ways,
which was the plan all along,
of course.
http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/hopper/interior/hopper.woman-sun.jpg
When I was just a kid,
A scary film I went to see
Was the terrifying “13 Ghosts,”
Presented in 3-D.
We watched with cardboard glasses,
One side blue and one side red;
If you didn’t want to see the ghosts,
You left them off instead.
Today I saw a 3-D film;
The glasses, though, were plastic.
I wish that I could tell you
That the 3-D was fantastic.
But sadly, that was not the case –
I found it quite distracting;
Effects to add some interest
Felt to me more like subtracting.
What really ticked me off, though,
Was the cost of each admission;
An extra 4 bucks added
To the price, without permission.
You didn’t have a choice
And once inside, the glasses stayed;
If you removed them, all was blurred,
Despite the price you paid.
Today I learned a lesson
On the value of 3-D –
That corny old technology
Was good enough for me!
Breathe in,
Jesus my mind is in the valley
I know I’m not lost but it's hard to see
Exhale,
Help me to lean on you
When negative circumstances
Become more comfortable
I’m too comfortable with depression, isolation, and doubt
Having late night conversations about
An end that didn’t end at the cross
Now it's hard to breathe in my daily routine
Arms extended as far as they can reach, help me
I’ve uprooted myself from the vine
To avoid the journey of progress
As if God didn’t have my best interest
Why do I look for other interests outside
Of daily bread and living water
Now I’m adding interests to my debts when they were already paid for
If I only paid more attention to the Vine, my branch would see the Tree
God help me to not protect that parts you want to prune
Despite my flesh I want to be more rooted to you
Plan ahead they say so you can make time to smell the flower things
I’ve never been much of a gardener
However, today I’m planting mustard seeds
So, my confidence can age as Grand as the Canyon
I can finally picture heaven in the palm of my hands with this Canon
Camera, bombing any part of hell in my yesterday that tries to burn my film
Hope used to be a dream then I made my dreams come true
Hope used to slip through my fingers but now I wear it as a cape
Flying over depression, fear, and regret
Stop subtracting from you, thinking to myself
Hope is priceless, you don’t have to play tag with money
That’s why the tag looks out of place in a garden
The highest value holders are free
Salvation doesn’t cost you anything, so;
Plant faith and wake up in a field of dreams
Plant a rose and fall in love
Plant patience and endurance will run past any future
Harmony outlasts pains earthquake
Honor overcomes poisoned endings
And it gives me hope that tomorrow isn’t so bad after all
I don’t always feel super, but Jesus said I can be a hero
p.s. don’t forget your cape…
You
He
And she is a mixture for disaster or is it?
For he comes to you with all of the equations
Mixtures and fixtures that fit.
But what happens when that number one falls to
the number three?
Is the equation based on simple subtraction? Or is it
based on an answer that needs to be?
So
Is three a crowd when he loves you just right?
Or is it a test in seeing if you'll just keep up the
great fight?
So who is he?
Is this a man that comes from the pool of greed?
Or
Is this a man who is an empty soul who wants to feel the
word called "Need"?
No matter the equation; subtracting three from one leaves
two.
So why are you fooling yourself into believing that the number
two will be you?
So what does one do?
When she feels that he and she are meant to be.
No matter the situation, the formula doesn't add up
when there's...
You
He
She... The Number Three
A special thank you goes out to King Jamma for the inspirational song entitled...
"Say, Less"...
Through each tear ... there is a smile ...
Pretending, Smizing, and Lying ... Running into darkness ...
Adding on to the list of problems ... Adding and subtracting ...
Just to find out that the next number on your list was just another day
of denial.
Holding on to the storms is your everyday norm ...
Praying to God daily ... Asking for forgiveness ... While wondering ...
What else could go wrong?
Wanting to let go is never far away from one's mind ...
Apologizing for ...
Unforeseen signs ... Left behind ... As markers ...
Timelines and symbols of all kinds ...
Hoping, wishing, and praying that somehow; someone can rescue
you ...
By reading the clues of what you left behind ...
And in time ... The seeds of love, hope, and faith ...
Rained through the darkness ... and the sun began to shine...
Because you "Said less and prayed more" ... And eventually your storms began to fade once your message got to heaven's door ... And
through the power of God ...
You noticed your wars, turmoil, and storms were no more ...
For God is your strength while in the storm ...
Your light in the darkness and your teacher for lessons unseen ...
And at the end of the day ...
It is ... "AS IS"
The End ...
Like tornadoes passed
flood waters receded
and hurricanes stilled
he was gone-
the 'worst was over'
and somehow
supposedly
life got right up
and carried on
So they said, in time
I’d get better
I would forget it happened at all
but they didn’t see
the damage in me
my soul left twisted
mangled and mauled
Whispers of past pain
mindless manipulation
echoing off my walls
of alienation
shrouded
in shadows of shame-
Cruel words curling
around my brain
endlessly repeating
his refrain
“worth-less”
“use-less”
“less”
“less”
“less”
Subtracting from
the sum of me
until there's nothing
left of me
and no way- how
to fill this space
Like aftermath
of violent storm
he’s left debris
and chaos behind
and blown away
the best of me
Roof and siding
torn off exposing
the brittle timbers
and broken framing
of years spent blaming
he was the cross
I silently bore
and now that I am
finally free
I’m at a loss
to imagine more
What it would look like
or be made of-
a home for a windblown
wandering waif-
place of comfort
kindness and healing
where I’d be whole
happy and safe?
Quantities of time feel nothing.
Calculating, accumulating and subtracting,
days and weeks,
months and years and decades
roll past our eyes and ears
our growing and shrinking stomachs
to leave their strong and weak-grooved rings
of satiation and emaciation
I only feel and remember qualities of EarthTime
co-arising passions and co-gravitating pleasures
or dissonant dispassionate and painful reactions
of fear about time's future survivable qualities
anger about oppressive time's past conflicts
burning hot bright volcano hatreds
adrenaline flowing flashes
uncontrollable as suppressed bliss
only completely invested, immersed,
passionately engaged within a resiliently timeless
moment of deeply resonant quality
too seldom aware of Earth's intelligent co-present
co-passionate
co-binary sacred/organic fertility
of divinely humane grace
eternally synergetic dancing
through rationally measured quantities
of merely mortal metric times.
Sacred qualities of time's regenerate evolutions
long to feel everything belonging once again together,
beyond a foggy lapse of co-empathic solidarity
ReLigiously re-membering our golden era
co-relational peaceful qualities
richly feeding on Earth's matriarchal placentas
when all felt now-ly timeless
and originally right
feeling healthy
nurturing trusted truths
of loving kindness
feeling qualitatively good
and warm-full beauty filled.
Perhaps here lies our deeper measure
of time's healthiest meaning-full quality,
economically cooperative
and politically synergetic
and ecologically co-relational
EarthMother organically breeding
and sacredly feeding ecotherapy
Deep dancing
while surface surfing
through this timeless now
of polypathic potential win/win consciousness
Qualitative feelings positive through negative
emerging from and for and through and in and on and over each now
submerging into past speciating
branching co-passion's pleasure impressed re-memories
and dispassion's painful suppressed memories
Trees of old strong-rooted felt re-ligion
qualitatively comparing
contrasting
our original embryonic nurturing qualities
for richer eco-political sacred health
and less EarthMother dis-organic pathology
through this eternally regenerating now
quality of TaoTime's feeling peace-full
pronoia
win/win ego/eco-conscious co-passion.
We quarreled to bitter, burning degrees
(you)loving me
as a tender trespasser
a chew toy
boy
demanding compliance
forced feedings
down
to sock selection
(your)conspicuous usage of chlorine
blistering eyes
a woman my mother may have idolized
(your)disciplined hemlines
entirely circumspect
subtracting the abusements
how (your)words struck, in the rage of an enemy fire
and less, the undisturbed lust after hog's feet
I was heading for America
a better sow to plow
with spangly blue eyes
and ruddy virtue brimming inside her countenance
out of the despicable cold,
The harpy's fury
(you)poked at my shortness
magnified my retardations
I was a crouching slug in (your)supercilious shadows
Understanding I couldn't swim
as all the world knows
any banal fact
for example, water is wet
and a million times (your)augur's ball
pronounced death by sea
little legs shall not be inclined to desert the scalding Egyptian sands
was it (your)psychosis or mine ... doubts dressed as destiny?
I missed the exodus of the unsinkable ship.
The Titanic horn tolled whilst she distanced,
the mocking tintinnabulation
of elegiac bells.