Long Suddenness Poems
Long Suddenness Poems. Below are the most popular long Suddenness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Suddenness poems by poem length and keyword.
WHITE LIGHT
daylight
coming in
intrusive
caught sight
of
the
minimal
after-images
hanging
in the air
time
become
often
a
beginning
unstretched
uneven
or
discarded
curls
in
layered
texture
a consistent
touch
of
traces
of
actions a
come together
a residue
of
the
unfinished
thoughts
petered out
dwindled to
an excerpt
&
a
sigh
a
faltered
interruption
barely begun
delectable
yet
truncated&
improvised
suddenness
a feeling
of arrival
a
reassembled
happening
a
boundary
overrun
&unfocused
throughout
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Oh, let’s us not forget,
Deep sorrow,
Especially that caused by another
Overcome with grief
Tears and suddenness of quick relief, release
Sorrows misery
Sadness, anguish,
Pain’s, distress, agony
All so real…
All I see…
Torments, affliction,
suffering, heartache, heartbreak;
Grief broken-heartlessness, heart of heaviness of, woe
Desolation, despondency all I’ve got left,
Dejection, despair, angst, mortification;
Mourning of mournfulness,
Bereavement, lamentation, lament,
and yet,,,
Remorse, regret, pining for a brief relinquish
Blues dolor dole;
Bereavement in my soul;
Sorrows misery
Sadness, anguish,
Pains, distress, agony
All so real…
All I see…
Why?, bother help is an emotion borrow
I’m yet in still…Deep sorrow HELP US GOD the FATHER
7/30/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Written for project North Omaha Writers Group assignment 2019©
With speedy, gutsy ease
her Irish father rolls up the front room rug
Gaelic music lathers the air in merriment
Nelligen at 8, composed
snags our attention
in hard shoe clicking
her rapid, intricate footwork
its drumming effect, a heart pulsating
Nell's rigid torso
that trails upward to white-blond hair
bouncing,
catching light like weightless feathers
Small feet in black hard shoes
tapping
from toes to heels
Image fixed in place like her pale rose-bud skin
Up against the wall, I mimic her movements
My feet a tangled jigsaw
She laughs, kisses my cheek, tousles my hair
like tufts of grass
At 9, I want to go to her, to cradle her state of grace
for however long we are children
The suddenness of age frames our winter
A peer backwards through a series of lenses
to stitched moments that slide in memory
foot taps through our rooms
I know full well that I am responsible for my own mis-steps
for sitting out her dances
for never solving most puzzles
even when I pull back
from now
Poem composed: June 13, 2021
Why am I hurt so sore, my folks
Why does my heart bleed
Why do I take it so personally
Why do I need to worry at all
Yesterday my General, his men
And the family were here in splendor
Today they are nowhere to be seen
Men in uniform were together for breakfast
But for lunch, they will never ever be seen again
Is it the suddenness of the event
Is it the bizarreness of the tragedy
Is it the mystery behind the trauma
Is it the loss of blood, of our very own
The nation has lost a Military Persona
The army its Chief de Forces, CDS
This event has shocked the nation
As the General and his wife died in horror
To lose them all this nation can never afford
We fail to see the web that spelled doom
To a helicopter that was versatile
The mystery is baffling to the nation
Just as the fear of the unknown
A team of decorated warriors vanishes
In a tragedy on the mountainside
A ghastly mishap of Himalayan scale
A sadness that has left the country in tears
Did some miscreants have a plot
A scar on security prowess
An insult to a nation’s pride
A lapse with huge implications
Can the army ever fail at all
With war clouds looming large
This Gladiator will be missed a lot
Enemies rejoice in another’s wound
We just need to turn a page in history
Our love for the General stays in our hearts
The Indian military may mourn its dead
But it never ever spares its enemies
Time will reveal the true story
Now let us bid farewell to the General
And great warriors a woman of honor!
I never saw the coiling snake,
The suddenness of its striking,
But I quickly felt my mistake,
Stung with terror while hiking.
That quickly turned to burning rage,
A response uncalculated-
A sudden and angry rampage,
And the snake was annihilated.
Then swarming bees sent me running,
Through a swarm of thorns and briers.
The number of stings was stunning,
Like a hundred little fires.
Then hellish lava began to spew,
In the form of threats and curses,
Of all the vengeance I would do,
Which a tortured mind rehearses.
Afterwards, my wrath subsided,
And a settled policy arose-
Any "stingers" would be blighted,
Before they could oppose.
How do you explain things that sting,
When you planned to do them no harm?
After suffering the pain they bring,
Man, and Nature, both lose their charm.
Then there's the greatest sting of all,
That follows our dying breath.
Forever in that captive thrall,
Is the sting of sin and death.
How do I blight death's sin-sting,
And avoid death's Sheol-swallow,
Find purpose in my suffering,
And an example in which to follow?
He swallows the sting for all of them,
Once your eyes are opened to see.
Salvation was secured by Him,
Read Isaiah fifty-three.
I am going along in a happy cheerful dancing prancing skipping way
For an hour or so, enjoying daffodils and tulips, loving the warm sun.
When BAM!
It hits me. Sadness.
Depression that throws me down under a bridge with force.
I hit my head on the concrete of its suddenness, and I see stars.
Nothing is pretty now; it feels like I am wearing heavy army boots.
I do not even try to get up. What would be the use?
The day is ruined. Everyone hates me. I hate myself.
I am despondent and unhappy, and irritated.
Nothing is right. I yell at myself.
Internally, calling myself all kinds of mean things.
Take a nap! My internal voice demands.
I take a couple of sleeping pills.
Wake up two hours later, ready to find a rainbow.
Dancing and prancing, I skip along, not ready for the next hit.
A Quiet Conversation In Church
Someone behind me stifled a cough
Turning around, the stranger nodded back
In the dim light
I made out a determined jaw
Felt thick fingers holding on to the back of my pew
I’ve been coming here for years he said
During weekday afternoons
When the Church is empty.
I pray in the quiet
And find peacefulness
That never stops.
From it I get strength, a resolve to go on.
Pausing he asked I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here?
I answered as best I could
I pass by here every day
And I thought it was time for me to come in.
He answered
Yes, strength and resolve are important.
But they come from the inside. No one gives them to you.
I had some issues but I knew I couldn’t hide in a bottle
And so, I came back to the Church on my own terms.
Still in the shadows
He whispered
I’m a veteran
The government will give vets pills to help them forget their problems.
The Church?
They try in their own way and when you die, they’ll say a prayer over you
But your family is the only one you can rightfully turn to for help.
I told the stranger
We were new to the City
That was so crowded and expensive.
We parted but not before he said
When you find someone
Open your heart and trust them.
Outside, my eyes squinted
In the suddenness of sunlight
Signs of Spring
Were everywhere
My cell phone rang
Her excited voice telling me that she got the job
She always wanted
Finally, things were going her way
I told her
We’ll celebrate
Go to the place you always wanted to go
In her breathless voice she answered
It’s so expensive
What else is new I replied
We’re going because this is special
Because you didn’t give up
You made it happen.
And then I realized the old man was right.
Hey…psst…wake up! I know it's still dark but will you come with me? Come on…
We tiptoe quietly through the sleeping house and slip our feet into flip-flops, and go out the back door.
We are in our backyard. A flat, grassy expanse that looks as fine and welcoming as the finest Persian rugs. Surrounding our little home in the mountains is nothing but trees and creeks…blessed nature.
Holding your hand because we are friends, we stand in the middle of this beauty in our pajamas and flip-flops and look up at the sky.
The hyper, flashing Morse-code of the stars are the first to dim, so tired from their all night attempt at communicating their heavenly delights.
The vast skies fade from blackest night to deep indigo hues, finally washing out to the palest blue gray of watercolors.
Just as we begin to distinguish the shapes of trees, the glow, surprising in its slow suddenness, we feel a lightness warming our hearts as well, banishing all fear and welcoming the sweet anticipation of a new day.
Then we hear a far away, “tweet,tweedle,tweet!”
This must be Mother bird, for she is always first to rise and sing!
She isn't alone for long…soon her family and friends awaken to sing to the Maker of the Summer Sunrise.
And this is their Sunrise song:
“Awake my fellows! Arise my friends!
For the Creator brings us the sun rise again!
No need to worry, no need to care,
if we'll have shelter or what the flowers wear. He hears our prayers, our songs and our cries…for after darkest night we know the sun will rise!
So don't fret,no, don't worry about what we will eat…
Just be thankful for all with this song we sing…tweet, tweet, tweedle, tweedle,tweet, tweet, tweet!”
Luck of the stare of sugar, luck of the share of shade
Seemly, a heat in the sin, we will know
Suppose and or fail, a shared water in my jade
Suck if a written smile, ever has a smile we should ask if it can sew?
Sated, the smell of better treatise, irate
Point made, liberty, and we save the tenderness of the night
Ink, spoils, shrewdness, and if a reason has a person
Simplify a kindly means, pretty has a moment alone of fright
Shallow to know you, a creed of decision
And the swallow of something, this way something comes
Happy to meant you, hairy to lent intuition
Seduce me with your eyes, an integrity of a sunny bloom...
Wow, a color of desperation without a friend...
Stir the urge, stare at the worth
Another patience in the shade, silence, a have of amends
Let's bare with me, ambivalence, a deed and a heed is ours certain?
Ding!
And the fight begins, in this corner a master of sweat
And in the other, a preaching muscle with no charge or swing
Salty old dog, in the more of a bruising to end all but the instinct of lead
Godling!
Paradise has seen us, a treasure of misery to come
Lips of steel, a chance with imaginations heel, a precise thing
To notice a shine incomplete, ready to live for any who would a bomb?
Wings!
Hallowed be thy name, let thy kingdom come...
Spit and wax, spite and wane; a poison letter with a reach, mystique
Care for me, suddenness, sullen words in the now to shame me; luckier women?
I AM THE HERON
There is a stoicism to me
silent, self reliant, pensive posturing
suddenness of intent and action.
My aggression is calculated,
measured in response to need,
activated by impending threat.
Stillness is the garb of my determination,
patience in the solitude of calm
spring loaded – a sharpened, piercing, beak.
I still retain my forebears ways,
their ancient chiseled features,
dedication to the rookery’s domain
amid the din of springs cool birthright.
I will cross swords defending nests
asway in natures treetop rocking chairs.
There is a stoicism to me
//Heron – aggressive, self determination,, self reliance//
submitted to – Picture Yourself As a Bird – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Andrea Dietrich
5/16/2015