Long Thresh Poems
Long Thresh Poems. Below are the most popular long Thresh by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thresh poems by poem length and keyword.
I behold the rose in bloom, and I cry,
I weep and I wail, then I sigh.
As the night draws in, my painful thoughts begin to wake,
I retreat into my mind and with fear I do shake.
Your clammy hand on my neck, your touch just like lead,
I close my eyes so you will go, you bury further in my bed.
I know I’m worthless, but please do not hurt,
And I try not to scream as you begin to insert.
The deed almost done, your sneer of disgust,
Your toes curl as we prepare for the final thrust.
You roar with delight, I exhale with relief,
My virginity now taken by a wretched old thief.
The memory still haunts, and the damage goes on,
I unravel the silk cloth that my knife lays upon.
Slowly but surely destruction is on its way,
I fear for my soul, but my body must pay.
Anticipation takes hold, and the blade does its work,
I press firmly down, blood appears with a jerk.
Is this the pleasure I've longed to have?
And a voice deep within screams "YES! ONE MORE JAB".
I am so frail, my young flesh so weak,
I can not go on, for my virginity he did seek.
The cold steel blade tattoos my white maiden flesh,
And the untouched skin becomes like wheat for the thresh.
I must abate, I must restrain,
This is the only way I mask the pain.
My eyes glaze over, my body feels weightless,
Each stroke is a prayer, and every cut a caress.
The guests have arrived, my relief has been fleeting,
He stands there staring, my heart is beating.
He looks at me inquisitively, mouth gaping,
And my mother knows not that her brother likes raping.
His gaze upon me, I'm his gift to unwrap,
He would rip me open and toss me like scrap.
I wish he would vanish and leave me in peace,
But his lust won’t be sated, and on me he would feast.
My legs are so withered, and my wheelchair’s a cage,
I wish that man in the Skoda didn’t have road rage.
I guess I should be grateful I can’t feel a thing,
But my mind is alive and every inch of him stings.
He gives me a present and pretends to be nice,
But don’t be fooled, it comes at a price.
He wheels me outside for a fresh of breath air,
When no one is watching he sniffs at my hair.
I wish I could lash out with my thin spastic legs,
But they are as useful as ice-cube clothes pegs.
I hope my diary doesn’t land in the wrong hands,
And if you’re reading this now then I’ve suck-cummed to his plans.
- Anonce
PROLOGUE
Biographies are for men who have a need to cry
To spell out what we remember is to subtract all
We forget, for knowing then nothing knew, a lie
Conjured by history, there's no a priori here at all
If you will not abuse my love
I will dive for you deeper forgotten things, bring
Up from bottom hate to prove
To be a better god we gladly, boldly took the sting
And could not have merely comprehended joy until
Our serpent made the safe-God to repent of his will
Here is my life strands of sands upon your windy palm
I'm the syllables of every gospel, beginning at the Psalm
Proverbs skinned like rice from the shaft, seeking balm.
History immaculate pristine in no myth ever shall sleep
Introspection vigils struggle between words and memory
Philosophy is a dream, not I, who numbers days urgently,
The sleeping dog will sleep, but my promise let me keep.
i
IDENTITY
I do not even know how it began, night or day
Rain or shine - nor what season they had interplay
I only know that nine must have been too long since
I overstayed my time and made her grimaced, grunt
And groaned to push me out. So of course, I wince
Privy to so much uncertainty. I have a given month
A date, but what is time alone for anyone's beginning
I want to remember the pool I paddled in the flesh
The long rope that called my navel a primal mouth
The red tide of mud from her veins which so much clout
I was hooked on it, around the perimeter where I thresh
So much more can come from a real truth of beginning.
I mean, how comes we have no control over our beginning
And you expect me in the middle to give you meaning
I will not buy the lie, I choose allegiance but know not how
The end shall fufill its promises of me. The air burns still
Like an acrid vapor on the lungs, and not yet I shall spill
The anger from the fumes of air, nor low ever can I bow
Before the hand that slapped my butt and told me scream.
You say indecent, I say unjust, for he proved no love so
Soon nor knew of me any wrong. The conspirators team
Around a common cause: a man must cry so they know
He has life; my kicking legs were not enough. The water
Suddenly left me swaddled in air and just a little laughter.
I do not take kindly to being whipped, nor did I protest then
About my eviction, and the sudden weight of many things.
Most people got married in June because
They took their yearly bath in May
Body odor was the reason
Of the flowers in a bouquet
A big tub of hot water was used
For a bath, so that's not complex
The males's right was to go first
The women and children went next
Last of all was the babies turn
By then the water was real dark
"Don't throw the baby out with the wash"
Soon became a common remark
Dirt floors were all the poor could afford
The old saying "dirt poor" came from that
The wealthy's floors were slippery slate
In wet winter you just might fall flat!
So they would spread straw on the floor
But they called it thresh way back then
and a "Thresh Hold" was what they called
The piece of wood used to hold it in!
Stew in a big kettle over a fire
Provided their dinner for them to eat
Leftovers left to get cold at night
With vegetables but not much meat
They added to the pot every day
It could be several days I'm told
That was referred to in the old rhyme
"Peas porridge in the pot nine days old"
When they could "bring home the bacon"
They were always proud about that
They would cut a little off to share
Then sit around and "chew the fat"
Pewter plates would cause lead poison
If like, in tomatoes, the acid was high
So for the next four hundred years or so
They thought tomatoes would make you die!
Bread was split according to status.
The burnt bottom to workers was thrust
The family would get the middle part
While the guests got the "upper crust"
Sometimes they'd pass out a few days
Because with whiskey they'd use a lead cup
So they would be prepared for burial
But "hold a wake" to see if they woke up
England had to re-use their coffins
But there were scratch marks, on some inside
They thought about it and soon realized
They must have been burying people alive!
Then they were buried with a string on their wrist
A bell was attached outside as well
Someone sat on "the graveyard shift" so
a "dead ringer" could be "saved by the bell"
This is true history, you can look it up
For me history always gave me a fit
But now this history doesn't seem so boring
Since I managed to make a poem out of it!
-
Terence a Griffiths of Tyrone or Leitrim!
Did he know but later of 1820 he would be there born
A Flax Grower a renter from landlords of Lord Leitrim's domain
To thresh and sack and cloth and sow by wife and all but slavery go
A brother Bartholemew younger and two rented fields up
They toiled and cut their respective Dromahair tracks for family food and church
Imagined home of limestone scraw and thatch and little more
To Him and Mary had children born but died and died but - James a smile born at last
Year of 42 destined of birth and life much the same
With toil and despair like all the rest of this peopled land
A famine near but river trout and oats and eggs kept going without the potato plant
Blyte and desperation spared on none but those ready those prepared
Not prepared evicted on the lonely green lined road and board of works pittance
For those a fraction better or more a trip to port and bay to look across the sea
Without a family to meet or lodgings to lay
The night before a sorrowful wake of music and porter barrel there
With food and tears and pennies off never to see no more
Terence proud and sad James he sends America to go
And send some money home to mother to lowly sons
She creaks and breaks and steers the stomach
Up and down the drains of hungers pains
The deck to break of wave and sounds and New Amsterdam emerge
Better lands and money sent home to purchase 20 Acres and 2 roods no more
Never to return is not true. A loyal James to Landlord downed and to family too
He roots and spreads and family bear and atained a generation there
But cannot see to bear another ship for those he knows and hates the family split
A neighbour lined up at the poor house and green lane go. He can stand no more
And sacks the postman's bag with others and throws the notice to the ditch
The brutal notice of postman's summons blocks arrests the rabble and gaols the mob
I saw the picture of Limerick gaol a bowler hat not there but pride
Pride in a smile. - James a smile born at last.
Form:
I woke up for the 6th time tonight to the cry of the babe sleeping in our room
The mum tired, sleepy turns to breastfeed this lil monster
When I was in campus, the word companionship came without any responsibilities
It meant holding hands, passing winks during class, a push to the bus stop, late night texting and a kiss goodnight.
Later in life, I met mum. She knows marriage like the back of her hand.
She says, its about responsibility, agendas and purity.
Every 1st Sunday of the month, in that daycare class
We sit under her and bask from knowledge.
Today,
Right now,
I know different.
Its not about the adrenaline that keeps you awake at night texting and giggling
Its not about leaving your life behind in search of bliss and escape
Its quite the contrary.
Marriage is waking up 6 or 7 times in the night to breastfeed the ever thirsty new born who got the hours wrong
For them, day time is sleeping time and night is play time
Its waking up early enough to make sure he wakes to find warm water, a hot cup of tea and ironed clothes and a clean house
Its going to the office fresh and ready to thresh the day
Its putting a smile and encouraging other sisters in the hood
So forget romance,
Forget danger, ecstasy
Quit escaping
Because marriage is grounding.
What am I doing today to becoming Wonder Woman
How about getting my life together
Being disciplined
Doing stuff even when I don't feel like
Washing dishes before bed
Showering before sleeping
Trying out that recipe
Eating Healthy
Praying and live according to His definition of life
Choosing purity
Probably saving up bucks
Start my own business
Buy my own house
Travel
Attend gatherings of believers
Saying No! to that delightful and desired fruit in the garden
He put these desires on the inside of me
So strong they push humans to move out of their homes
From their mothers hut and comfort
and cleave to strangers they met on Facebook
What kind of madness is this?
-marriage.
AN EXCEEDING GREAT ARMY
Because of the missing sword
A soldier falls,
And another,
And another,
And another…
When was their birth?
What hastens their death?
Christ paid the debt
He fought with that sword
Till all forces bow…
But for this missing sword
A soldier crumbles,
And another,
And another,
And another…
They are well dressed:
In military attire
But are armed with brass weapons:
With spears and rifles!
Where is the amour, the shield,
the breastplate, the helmet and the sword?
Yet, for the want of that sword
A soldier falters,
And another,
And another,
And another…
On mountain tops,
Hills and valleys:
Day and night;
Toiling, preparing and waiting
To combat the enemy,
But never search for the missing weapon.
Still, for the want of that sword
A soldier dies,
And another,
And another,
And another…
Their camp is ravaged
Each soldier for his dear life;
The night of horror came
The dawn of victory followed
Each soldier remembers the missing weapon
From their hidey-hole, loudly they scream,
“The sword! The sword!! The sword!!!”
Will the sword ever be found?
No army is declared the Champion
Without going through a battle;
No victory is secured
With the parade of cheap weapons;
Then a soldier returns
And another,
And another,
And another...
And... the SWORD was found
Removed from its sheath; and sharpened
To fight the good fight
And take their rightful place
Then a soldier fights,
And another,
And another,
And another…
Now... the SWORD was found
The army of God has risen
With bleeding skin
And broken bones.
Like the dried bones, they are awake:
Covered with the sinews of faith,
And filled with the breath of fire
To thresh mountains
And dominate their enemies.
Then a soldier lives,
And another,
And another,
And another...
The camp is restored
The enemy is destroyed
An exceeding great army has risen
To root out and to pull down
To destroy and to throw down
To build and to plant…
Then a soldier rejoices,
And another,
And another,
And another...
Many a moment, and many a day
Through years of joy and
come what may
A promised vow, barely eighteen
Through many years of life
has seen
Back on that day in '77
I hoped for years of simply heaven
Our little home was dear to me
Yoked in loves matrimony
And when storm clouds came in the night
We weathered through and hung
On tight
Those were no simple words, that vow
To promise you and then allow
A world of storm to rip apart
Me, nor you, a sacred heart
Beneath the stars or beaming sun
Our heartbeats beat
My love, as one
Passing thresh holds,
joys and tears
To live as one throughout
The years
Through decades as
Man and wife
Through celebrations, joys
Or strife
Our love is sacred, and it's true
My heart beats
"Sweetheart, I love you!"
You're cherished
And so dear to me
Happy Anniversary!
There’s a sense in which all life is scum on this earth
(without God as creator), life here (more debris
that just floats on the surface of things, that evolves
to fill niches that former life spawns) has no worth
in itself, demonstrates all life does is make space
for more scum, that will live on life’s poop, or it’s flesh.
And if God does exist, might this God view with mirth,
not the flora, but fauna (that fled from the sea
to escape what would eat it) could think World revolves
for its pleasure! Dare parasites dream that their birth
is a proof of God’s LOVE, virtue, intellect’s, ‘ace
in the hole’ for our kind; hint we’ve souls God should thresh?
Does my life have more value if I have a soul
or does fantasy telegraph who has control?
To choose God makes things’ better?’ Is what I ‘think’ JUST?
If God’s real or God’s missing, what grownup owns trust?
Just how long is one day in the life of a God
for creation took billions of years, should we pray?
Is our Bible infallible, final, ordained
‘truth of God’ or a primer for 1st graders, ark
for man’s soul, meant to save us from ‘downpour of pride?’
We grow trees meant to float us, or harvest what’s there?
Do you lie to your kids when they voice, “It’s so odd,
Why’s sky colored, not black?” Are you filled with dismay
to say, “It’s not my choice, but the color’s constrained,
to be just what it is by creation’s real SPARK!”
The truth’s Science, not faith, or stained truth’s override!
Oh, the mind of a man is a tawdry affair!
Is Spark SPARK? Can we know? Still, faith calls SPARK, “I AM!”
There’s no epigram spoken more valid, less sham!
Truth is God could be ‘real.’ Safe bet universe ‘is’
and reflects God’s true nature (if God sourced ‘Whole Biz’)!
Long Tooth
June 18th in 2020
The rabid bite of bitter news ping-pong from my senses
And pile with the vanity of earth's cares in a frazzled heap
The songs of Zion like rivers sweet make my defences
Sublime as Him who is the tried tower of the faith I keep.
O in the night when the storms are wild
And waves come wanton against my flesh
I sing the Psalms of Zion and like a child
Know peace where billowing waters thresh.
O sings the songs of hope and peace, rest
On the promises of Christ in love's loveliness
The trust of many rust in gold, and silver hopes slip away
The center has fallen and nothing holds, all that blooms
So soon decay. But the songs of Zion forever they stay
Balming the heart with incense of grace and love's perfumes
Drawing me closer into the fold, O I yield
My yearning heart to thee, Lamb of Calvary
And when in the presence at last I am kneeled
I'll pour my soul in praise for thy joy's victory
O sings the songs of hope and peace, rest
On the promises of Christ in love's loveliness
These are the words that keep my faith, truth of the gospel
Vesselled in me, truth of the gospel triumphant in songs
Marvelous hope of redemption to tell, tones of mercy to swell
From the ruin of Eden to the mast of the cross, O songs
Of Zion, Psalms of Zion, God of Zion, all hear
I am overflowing with his goodness and grace
Zion open wide for me, I shall soon be there
To be like him when our love comes face to face.
O sings the songs of hope and peace, rest
On the promises of Christ in love's loveliness
Morning filled with cracks of ice in daylight under the moonlit sky and the conscience of man breath heavily underneath the bedspread struggling to wake up from his mid-night dreams and the troubled heavens festering with hope from the barren skies make landfall at my feet and the deity began to weep. Oh, if I had yarn of endless length, I would weave a gigantic mural and cover it all over the bed and place the label on top of it and tie the thread at the four corners of the sea and walk across with dignity. Listen to my heart and tell me what you feel, listen to my heart and journey with me to length and breadth of the sea, explore with me in a submarine and lets float in the passion of our dreams; fill the air with laughter and pull our spirit closer, let’s see what is in the bottom of the ocean, the reefs of time can heal the blind and those whose joints are too painful to walk will cure the pain with a gentle touch of the ocean reef. You and I have something in common, you and I can compose a new song, you and I must explore the mountain, seas, and land, in a motor boat, but the rest of them must find their way out in a dug-out boat. I don’t fear the shark in the sea but you must be mindful of the color that you wear when you go swimming in the pool; every story has a head and a tale and you cannot capture the essence of it unless you go there; somethings come with age and time and you have dozens of years before you join the line; lets cross on the brave side of the ocean and walked towards the mountain and cross the thresh line . I stand at the corner of the sea and watch the sun shining on thee, stand next to me and listen to my heart how it panthers after thee.
Listen to my heart speaks!