Long Tethers Poems
Long Tethers Poems. Below are the most popular long Tethers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tethers poems by poem length and keyword.
"A personal shout-out to our sponsors and their vapid articulations who made this message possible," ... by The Poet.
Poets and poetesses ascribe to a greater call,
in their endeavors to make their chosen path a cure-all
from those who trivialize and minimize their virtuous
field of poetry's righteous domain and their arduous
measures to maintain a certain quality in their works
of art, to the world of writers past and present, networks
that tethers a fragile grasp on absolutes discipline,
and severance from the mundane, effortless, and simpleton,
out from the left field, melodramatic, sugarcoating,
southpaws are unreasonable and consequently, nothing
our opponents that come out from the left field properly
have no concept of true value to offer poetry.
It takes off-rhyme
to heighten rhyme --
like background in a
painting, should not
obliterate the fore...
leaving little to view,
less to excite and visually
explore -- (my wife, a fashion
plate...and I, the mutt of a date~
somehow, it works....)
I guess, if not for man's fall,
there would be no theme of God
to venerate -- in a dark sense~
evil is the light of good reflection
a night that makes bright the stars
a canvas of the greater heavens yet
to lasso and draw-in or pull one's self
up for loftier expansion --
earth experience, perhaps a mere dust-mite
on the surface of creation --
With poetry, Free Verse is far from free:
a rush pounding as the poet's heart~ bursting a
dam of pent-up, drumming passion -- overflowing
banks insane to absorb, to further-in deepen pools of
whatever for drink. Everything is attached...a-thirst, with seen
and unseen flowing tethers --
in my desolate room
no lights
no music
just anger
disgust
hate
distaste for life
but the joy of living
is only felt
when i kill
and i feel better
i am loved,
loved by many,
hated by more, (though that isn't of much concern)
dancing to life's twisted flute has drawn me numb, desensitized
hell came for me, and i put it out
i see this flower field
and the only way i know is paved in bloody ash
all that is real is annihilation
all that is weaker must die by the steel of my hands
for there is no other way
uproot the tethers of life and humanity
lest thou be taken by it, consumed by it.
there is no end to it.
if i don't take, i will have nothing, and they will take more.
Form:
The mind is a high flyer.
An altitude of any measure
allows it to breathe clearer.
The mind breathes you.
Close out this world
follow the song-cycles
of your land-locked
wind-blown lungs.
Let that singing soar,
let go of all tethers
ride that lighter than air wind
up, up, up.
Hold on to nothing
gravity has no asway upon you,
you can rise forever
dance over any gleaming universe.
Enter that 'cloud of unknowing'
that birthed you; deliver yourself
from all dust of thought
until joy and laugher
boosts you
into that radiant immensity
of inner space, there you arise
as a star that knows no roof, ceiling
nor end.
Gently close your eyes
And pay attention.
Wallow in the state of calmness
And mentally snip off
All tethers of here and now.
Escape to a blissful,
Uncharted no man's land.
Just listen attentively.
Hear that?
Ah, the sound of rain...
What could be more soothing?
Thousands of drums,
Simultaneously beating;
Rain rattling the roof
To make your joyous spirit dance.
Take time to listen
To the sound of rain pelting the roof.
Relax and empty your mind.
Surrender to glorious serenity.
Explore your imagination
And let it run wild.
What could be more enchanting?
Date written: 10/31/2022
(The following vignette barely resists collapsing into raw blurting.)
Ask my priest and he’ll tell you
I have a long-term boyfriend, whom
I’ve loved improperly for years.
He’s the custodian of my sin (my priest).
The church has its own language of fault.
He might not tell you, actually, priests have rules
- there are legalities aplenty - but he’s sure,
I’ve laid it before him (confession).
I outsource my gilt to professionals
- I’ve left my faults behind -
who wants to cary all of THAT around?
I have an unstable and somewhat elastic
belonging to the Holy Roman Catholic church,
but there are tethers of family that hold me
- one of the obligations of inherited identity -
and I find it convenient that my sins can be
formally acknowledged while socially invisible.
“You have an unrecognized attachment,” he’d said,
moral frameworks often expose their own inadequacies.
Alas, my morals sit uncomfortably behind my desires.
In my mind, I momentarily see a triangular road sign that reads,
“Warning: self-exposure: intimate realities may exceed dogmatic frameworks!”
“Say two Our Fathers, three Hail Mary, and one act of contrition - and in the future,” he said wincingly, “use your indoor blasphemy voice.”
Yeah, I frequently leave ‘Our Lady’ with scheduling issues.
I use an Apple Watch app to tally my penances (Counter for Watch - free).
He did complement me on my consistency and how politely I misbehave.
Still, despite my over-caffeinated, theatrical guilt and moral dissonance
- I’m clean. I keep my sins organized
- Heaven, here I come.
.
.
A song for this:
Stoney End by Laura Nyro
.
.
slang…
Priest = my authority figure/witness
Confession = is not absolution, it’s documentation
Our Lady = Notre Dame Cathedral
Is depression a band playing?
Always jeering at my brightest sets
Blows off the smallest bow leaving me a husk
Depression cat calls behind the veil
Dark days alone with my ever-present God
Hopelessly kneeling to my sad nature
A dead mane of a palm tree stripped by squalls
My rot rooted by reality's check ever on stage
Pop Seroquel to quell me to sleep
Teach me patience in this depression
Teach me the meaning of petite mort
Keep me practicing dying on stage
If not for love's tethers I would gladly exit
To my ancestors behind the ol’back stage
With my relations in line to come to Jesus
Barred by chemical prescriptions
Pop lithium and lamictal to unite polarities
Lurasidone to sway my psychosis to tunes
Trazodone for slaying me to sleep
This time I'll stay adherent and penitent
Drugs are courage buoying stage fright
Chemical messengers knitting neurons
Exposing me to paper cuts from the crowd
Shrouding mania with suppressed dopamine
Sadness in the background overwhelms me
Remember dust to stardust gravely falling
Those dark days twisting without love
Sex and drugs are cheap distractions
Cigarettes just crutches in the limelight
Without drink and weed on center stage
I want to go back-stage when love recedes
Then I would not feel my heart racing
Keep me above ground as life grinds on
The accretion of well-intentioned lies
Another day another poem
Like broken records on repeat
Veils of depression weighty as curtains
Knowing doesn’t tear the thread of identity
When I cross the veil, leave it all behind
But, it's not time to go back-stage
If not for love I would cut Fate’s twine
Stay alive long enough without disguises
Endure hours naked under the spotlight
Hold moments of joy without expectations
Confetti dismissed by peppered depression
Killing time while crooning cruelly alone
Waiting impatiently for the curtain call
Depression waiting back-stage as usual
Love is a stranger,
I often knock on her door.
I leave bits of roses that linger
And wilt with the ones before.
Today I’ve placed a new rose
It looked back at me weeping
I pull away and feel the dread again start creeping.
A feeling you can’t put into prose.
I want to be enough for her
My fist pounds against glass,
My mind caves under all the pressure
I just need this to pass.
I sit, I pace, I beg her to let me in
Love draws the blinds
And leaves me with the sin.
Because the sin binds
And tethers me to another,
Thoughts of pulling away leads me to shutter.
Yet I pull the string of fate taut,
It starts to fray
Obsession plagues my thought
And forgets to obey
When I hear her laughter,
Deep from within
I know that what comes after
Leaves my heart singed.
In the evening's ebbing twilight
I sit beneath the arc of a tree's bending bough
and wait for my love to appear on the hill
atop the meadow
Here in the calmness of the sunset
I see a sky of light gray and red
I feel a gentle breeze wash across my face
like tendrils drying my skin
and dream of my love who dances in my head
I feel this wispy breeze penetrate my soul
as my eyes scan the red-threaded horizon
where birds are gliding on their wings
On the hill, I see my love searching for me
where I am waiting for her affection
beneath the boughs in the meadow
where we will lay in dim-lit light
as the zephyr wind ruffles the leaves
under the skies plush natural coloring of red
the waning sunset has made
This retreat of ours is hidden from all
where our love becomes a serene splendor
of emotional tethers
Where we'll melt away into the night
wearing a moonlit veil of romance
to remember
A cumulonimbus cloud enveloped my sky,
Threatening to rain down a torrent of pain.
An ocean of commotion swirled in my brain.
My attempts to bandage the wounds turned in vain.
I saw only the receding vistas of light,
And night prowling like a stealthy thief.
The past chilled my mind like hanging icicles,
And I felt so heavy with frozen grief.
I inched my way up like a tardy snail.
My life got riddled with contradictions.
I felt I was waylaid, lost, bruised, and beaten.
From every corner, I met only constrictions.
When irredeemably lost in the labyrinth of life,
I heard an inner voice assuring me,
“Don’t worry, your life is in my hands.
Nobody always gets his way! Follow me!
I will walk in front as your all-time guide.
I will mend your scars and heal your wound.
I will hold your hand when you totter.
If fallen, I will lift you up from the ground.”
In an instant, I felt my tethers getting broken,
And my soul embracing all that is dear.
From the cage I knew I was flying out.
I saw the sky beyond, lying blue and clear!
Now I am on a journey of redemption,
Determined to follow Him wherever He directs.
I tell myself- “Nothing is beyond retrieval.”
Feel freed of everything that obstructs.