Long Tell tale signs Poems
Long Tell tale signs Poems. Below are the most popular long Tell tale signs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tell tale signs poems by poem length and keyword.
She pounded the last nail into the lid of the coffin
The coffin that held her dream
She sat there for a while
In the silence
Thinking of all it had meant
What it was meant to be
Her dream
She threw herself over the coffin
And wracked away with sobs
The last hopes that lay
Buried deep within her
Silence
No one had come to mourn
No one had said a word
Except when her dream was alive and well
Only then
Then…they told her
“Look at the tell-tale signs
Can’t you see?
Something is amiss
Your dream…Your dream is…sick
It won’t make it
It won’t survive.”
She hadn't believed them
Thought they had lied
Yet, here she was
She wiped her tears away
What did they know?
What did they care?
How could they understand…
That wrapped up there in her dream
Was her beating heart
She could not bear to bury it
So, she pushed it underneath the shade
Of a weeping willow tree
Weeping
Weeping
For who she couldn't be
And she walked away
Dreamless
Heartless
Dead….
Unburied!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
The day whose hours only a dream ago ended,
Was a test to the grave some men commended,
For seizing any opportunity to push and trip,
Is what men do when they want you off their ship.
The grave is a temptation for sure, but to endure
By moving on, by vowing instead to live more pure,
Far outshines the humiliating lights of evasiveness,
Whose eyes fearing the look of so-called craziness,
Would rather play it safe to make the world flatter.
Flat-landers, fearing bumps too risky to matter,
Huddling in groups with crossed fingers on backs,
Searching the ground for tell-tale signs of cracks,
Prefer cleaning their roads to clearing their minds,
Daily management easier without certain kinds.
The day whose hours a deep hurt now lets go,
Was an exam whose answer I begin to know.
The writing on the wall though merely commenced,
Is the writing of a fall that will not be dispensed,
For this refusal is more then a denial,
But an affirmation of the life I love and smile.
This fool doth not consider himself wise,
writing paltry poetry difficult
to read and/or actualize
methinks perusers of great literature
snub nose how I miserably advertise,
laughable attempt to aerobicise
fifty plus shades of gray matter
lobbying showy words agonize
zing effort perhaps best to cauterize
near petrified glob - boon
for scientists to analyze
baffling laboratory technicians
unusual crenulations
a profound surprise
pitiful peremptorily doth apologize
unlike verbalization feasible
after webbed whirled fist size
terra incognita reveals numbskull years
wrought yours truly to anesthetize
smelting, squelching,
and suppressing emotions
scored how tree rings annualize
environmental conditions definite
premature imp of the pervert
poe fella lifetime channels,
where bullies did antagonize
upon death requested autopsy authorize
zing eager scalpels to apprize
miniature dried river bed
formerly streams of consciousness
lake never seen before engendering
crowdsource to hypothesize
baffling every expert,
how terrible fate did baptize
ala lemony snicket series
of unfortunate events
multiplied power bajillion times
number only Google could surmise
obvious tell tale signs did brutalize
as if smacked upside the head
one unfortunate gladly apparently
suffered maelstroms of armageddon size
poet chars evidently
succeeded to burglarize
more successful than Watergate
psychological ploys hackers
noninvasively did cannibalize
(perhaps bored furloughed
government employees)
albeit noninvasively deeming
imposible to canonize
resultant cerebral corpus
understandably did capsize
entire body politik (Democrat)
faced, booked on hatred did demonize
verbal assaults indicate
suffering did caramelize
cerebrum, cerebellum and brainstem
resembling burnt offering
impossible to categorize
glommed hardened integument colleagues
hard pressed to characterize
highly rendered anomaly,
hence unfair to criticize
erratic schizoid personality disorder
quite evident amyloid plaques
did significantly crystalize
definitely explain aberrant quirks
resultant incessant emasculation
unquestionably led him to demoralize.
The empty swing
swings gently
in the gentle
breeze that wafts
across the empty
playground park.
The dust in the foot-pans
beneath the swings
lifts up in the breeze,
swirls and curls in
a spiral willy-nilly, willy-willy.
The town has all but died.
A tardy few die-hard's remain,
as they have no where else to go.
The salty groundwater,
which rose up in the soil
due to over zealous irrigation,
scalded the landscape and sucked
the life out of everything alive.
Even the birds and bees departed
as the vegetation was parched to
dry, shriveled brown, littering
the stark parched brown earth,
dotted with snow white blotches
and scabby scolds.
The residents were given fair warning.
They failed to heed the tell-tale signs
and reduce their wasteful
excessive irrigation,
as the salty water rose.
The call to change was such an irritation.
Like everyone, everywhere,
the people here, only took up a tardy reaction
when it was too late,
or almost too late,
which blind fate swung to
far, far too late.
Their fate was sealed.
This time the gauge
had swung far right down
to empty.
I stare at my mirror
So shocked by what I see
There is a strange woman
Staring right back at me
I must’ve been abducted
This must be a crazy trick
For the reflection that I see
Is making me quite sick
Are those horrid wrinkles?
Is that a double chin?
The neck that was my joy
Is pillar like- not thin!
My eyes have no sparkle
They look listless and glazed
It gets so hard to focus
When all I feel is dazed
Maybe it’s just a dream
From which I will awake
For how could that be me?
I’m sure it’s just a fake
I pinch myself real hard
The mirror woman screams
Oh no, it must be true
Now both of us cry streams
Mirror, you’re a traitor!!!
Mirror, this is a crime!!!
I order you to hide!!!
The tell-tale signs of time!!!
Do me a small favor
Tell me a little lie
Reflect a younger me…
Oh please, give it a try!
Eileen Manassian
Dear Soupers....Thought I'd share with you something exciting that's happening in my life at the moment. I'm on YouTube as the host of a program entitled, Rhymes of the Times. I share my love for poetry and my poems from Poetry Soup. I've started with my most viewed poems. I have four episodes up, and I thought I'd share the third one with you. Tomorrow, I will have The Paradox of Love up. Hope you enjoy these simple programs. The Channel name is Eileen Manassian. Hugs.
despite what outside temperature register
(even absolute zero), the unofficial arrival
of summer occurs, when thee eel hip tic,
barren, ass hymn tote, ova hottie, foxy,
Earthly, scantily clad, bomb shell nubile
babe, bra zen lee, ineluctably, innocently
insouciantly, prominently, promotes pro
pry eh tarry, plus risque provocative proxy,
trigger numb matt trick functions, as she
doth seductively saunter to approach ever
so close, yet never crosses mine orbit,
but unknowingly teases (like a firecat,
when catch bull struck four), my test
toss tee roan needle swings wildly in
due sing this ordinary system of a down
mellow male to feel doubly breasted,
hair reed kinkily, tongue mortised tenon
facilitating flagellated fortuitous forays,
go win for inflected miniature escarpment,
where groan'n pinkish tulips anchored
right at the estuary (nee slippery sluice),
sans self cleaning coven at the intersection
of happy and healthy, heavens to Betsy
bursting provocative cadenzas whence,
mine skipping heart beat fosters fertilizing
fecund fresh field, forthwith fallow paean
seeds of life and White Lily deemed verb
hot ten fruit, no matter huck cull berry
finis wrought twig and berries sounding
off a snap, crackle and pop.
Mom, I see your hands shaking, the tell-tale signs,
Not eating, not showering, lost in the TV’s confines,
Drinking all day long, consumed by the bottle’s sway,
It breaks my heart to see alcohol consuming you every day.
Memories of dad, many years ago, flood my mind,
As I watch you follow down the same painful bind,
The grip of addiction tightening its hold,
Leaving behind a life once bright, once bold.
I long to reach you, to pull you back from the brink,
To help you break free, to help you rethink,
The choices you make, the path you tread,
To pull you away from the darkness that spreads.
Mom, I see your pain, I feel your despair,
I know deep down, you’re still in there,
Behind the mask of alcohol’s disguise,
Is the woman I love, with tears in her eyes.
I hold onto hope, a flicker in the night,
That one day, you’ll emerge into the light,
Breaking free from the chains that bind,
Mom, I’ll be here for you, loving and kind.
What happened to the man I loved? Why did he lose himself?
The strong hold his demons had over him was tearing us apart
Dilated pupils, slurred words, stupid grin worn when drinking,
a fool who staggers on his way until he's behind a closed door
I'll let it be for now, but putting up with it is becoming a chore
Mom died and I'd flown home to take care of all that mattered
Two hours at the airport before he arrived. At least he was alive
I asked for the keys; he gave me that sly grin with a blank stare
I let it be. Can't reason with a drunk who's leaning on the car door
He reaked of peppermint schnapps. Beneath my breath I swore
I drove home from work and found the usual 'hidden' tell-tale signs
top shelf of the pantry, another box in the shower, half eaten pizzas
He was clueless that the scent of pepperoni gave his addiction away
Not up for a confrontation so I didn't knock upon his fortress door
I had to let it be because I heard him snoring, passed out on the floor
What excuses he invented when it was time for him to go to work
"My allergies are acting up," with Kleenex up both sides of his nose
Or this, "My hair is not cooperating today so just go on without me"
When I got home I was alone. He, behind the damned locked door
I'd let him be, but I longed for the life that once held so much more
I found empty vodka bottles he thought hidden in places I'd not find
blueberry, peach, or tasty flavor of the week, under dresser drawers
He refused my begging pleas to get the help he needed, so I let it be
It's true; living with someone who keeps himself shut behind a door
is lonelier that living alone. I loved him, but I was better off before.
Before he started drinking we were happy; quite a contented couple
But that changed when he abused me with angry words and actions
There was no satisfaction in walking away from the man I still loved
I couldn't say "let it be." I wouldn't watch another inebriated encore
I said goodbye, trying not to cry. Tears fell when I closed the door
The new 950-ton bridge would beat
down time dashing to classes cheat
ting vulnerability asper thick traffic
putting life at risk,
thus laudatory alternative
intending to offer Sweetwater
to last a lifetime would make fleet
(installed at Florida International University,
with eager pedestrians ready to greet
crossing grand opening,
where local dignitaries didst meet
viz Miami-Dade County
Saturday (March eleventh 2018)
witnessing ghastly collapsed
Thursday (March fifteenth 2018)
afternoon onto Southwest Eighth Street.
An unknown number
of fatalities surmised,
while several others
were hospitalized.
Prior to groundbreaking
with placement guised
of the attendant pomp
and circumstances exercised
setting cornerstone,
the projected
general estimation apprised
sans building costs totaled $14.2 million
and funded as part of a $19.4 million grant
from the US Department of Transportation.
The fact sheet boasted the sheer intensity
comparable to withstand strength of a
category 5 hurricane, and supposed to last
for more than 100 years.
Within the blink of an eye, no ifs ands,
nor abutments squared with ratiocination
earning civil engineers bragging rights,
which boastful, delightful, fanciful stead
fastness touted thwarting titanic tenable
taxing shocked Katrina and the waves.
Now only a scattered pile (formerly comp
rising beams footings, and piers) of rein
forced concrete capped with a bent ele
ment defying hallelujahs, karaoke kudos,
and bobble headed nods,
now impish jinns keep leering, mocking,
and naysaying to fading echoing reverberations
leveled at the laughingstock of an architectural
(duff) feat. Further scrutiny will attempt to cap
chore structural weaknesses. Amidst snapped,
crackled, and popped strewn cables entwined girders
(whose premature destruction) will also warrant
any arresting tell tale signs of unusual stress.
Sad news
whence somber church bells peal n pews
packed tight to pay homage to Graham Dixon while each mourner doth rues
in due time exits the sepulchral chamber in ones or twos.
an untimely death
tis like a whip that stings naked flesh
unimaginable by this papa
of two lovely teenage daughters fresh
into throes of young adulthood,
where world (wide web) at fingertips and skein of community. family
and illustrious lower merion
principled staff wrought mental health network
that purportedly serves as a mesh...
how and/or why (this father doth ask himself)
did one life slip thru this intricate weave
where tell tale signs of personal turmoil
usually writ larger than any pet peeve
roils inside (attested by mailer daemons) and doth leave
family, friends and strangers dumbstruck
and stunned into sorrow per priceless youth did heave
himself against premature years of his mortality,
whereby even i (a passerby per cyberspace) grieve
the permanent loss of promises untold -
thus tis death impossible to believe?
no words can salve this pain
yet, a vicarious impact felt like daggers
into my heart they reign
while whisking soul of loved
indelibly etched against logic, this tragedy doth stain
thee entire being of me,
an anonymous transient virtual wayfarer
before the sands of time for mein kempf will wane.
damn
helplessness prevails
at how to console even a milligram
what can this soul offer - when such a brutal slam
bangs against the consciousness -
where psyche rent asunder -
with a wicked WHAM!