Long Thrust out Poems
Long Thrust out Poems. Below are the most popular long Thrust out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thrust out poems by poem length and keyword.
Conflicting emotions, twirl inside of me, emotions or anger, rage pain and
insanity
Crying out for release, wondering when it will cease, this raging beast of
conflicting emotions, no love potions, up and down on an emotional roller coaster
Feelings of helplessness and despair, am not aware of the many hats that
I have to wear
Doing what I need to do to survive, just barely alive, does not understand the
contrivance of man, or woman, the sinister appearance of a friend, til the bitter
end
Spread vicious lies and deceit, anger and hurt does not retreat, as I shake
my head in the sadness of despair
Do they care or have to bear the scars of the conflicting emotions, that are
left behind
Anger and rage barely un-controlled, trying to maintain a measure of composure,
exposure to the unbridled truth
Your varnished perception of the truth, may not be truth at all, but it's your call,
to help the fall, or downfall as it were to dissent, because you feel inferior
The hallowed walls of interior, the grappling to make yourself feel better, because
of your inadequacy, you'd have people believe that you are honest and true
Truth not in you, and you have no soul, that's why you are not whole,
and complete within yourself
To make you a better you, you try to be the un-doing of me, a portrayal of
insufficiency
But I will never give in to the conflicting emotions, swirling around like a
ravaging ocean
What you tried to do to me, knock me to my knees, and have me plead
trying to break me, while you do you, will never hold true, and you will one
day rue, what you have spun together in your web of lies
I will not cry, nor will I die, I'll hold my head up high
You can never be the un-doing of me, You can never rattle my faith or shake my
integrity, the way that you have thrust out your hand against me, you cannot
touch me, cause I am whole and you cannot touch my soul
For there is a power higher than you, and you will never break thru
The old adage still forever holds true, and you will one day know,
That you will always reap what you sow
Schlerotic schlemiel schleps...
Into lonely senescence -
three plus decades already elapsed
trepidation, hesitation unbearably
tugging, shouldering,
remonstrating accumulation
of "baggage" thumb
of right hand thrust out
silently raving, quaking
cursing ultimatum parents
(soffit to fascia in)
saw fit to fashion
and hammer home
red hot poker rage
their singular male offspring
middle child of two sisters,
who long since vacated premises
when both young naifs
prior to attaining age of consent
deploring bing holed up
at 324 Level Road redoubt
built as summer house
remote from fracas of urban bedlam
still fifty years since Leipers
bon voyage into netherland
father and mother
imposed swiftly tailored
harried styled tough love
translated meant absolute zero value
toward offspring they begot,
and made quite clear loathing
heaped upon sundered fountainhead
good for nothing son of a...,
he whittled away precious time
reading avast among trove of material
crowdsourcing numerous bookshelves
mostly to impress intellectual visitors,
when in truth middle aged couple
thinly veiled country bumpkins,
donned with "FAKE" literacy
stereotypical "rednecks,"
inexplicably begot wunderkind
agog with inhaling literature
in tandem with liberal
magazines and newspapers
oft times whiled away countless hours
sunup to sundown
sequestered most remote nook
within local library
few miles walk along country road
served as self taught schooling
since parochial educated regimen
habitually rapped knuckles
courtesy whiplike hickory stick
if pupil evinced slightest
distraction, whence schoolmaster
detected lack of attention
as crotchety curmudgeon
blankly droned monotonously
dull jabbering subjected
stone faced classmates
into instant soporific state
futilely struggling to keep eyelids
slamming shut tight
including yours truly,
who when suddenly awake
realized quite a vivid dream!
Born in Cincinnati that buckeye state
January 13th 1959 – 57+ years to date
A tangle of arms & legs testing lungs, which sounded great
He kind of resembled a misshapen octopus with oval pate
Glowering inxs of deep purple from blue mood being irate
Thrust out the womb of Harriet Harris whom Boyce did date
After courting this youngest Kuritsky kin whose ill-fate
Whisked by grim reaper, which demise she did hate
For her being imbued with vim and vinegar til illness ate
Away her je nais sais quois personable maternal trait
Evident during my boyhood reflected by her son of late
As he too inches closer to his mortality and Hades gate
Aware that each day ought to be cherished as the rate
Of time courses down that zip line where grim reaper does wait
Attired in brand name hoodie swinging scythe across oblate
Spheroid i.e. terrestrial firmament – though many years some great
Yet to be lived – trying to recapture childhood bliss before freight
Train on a collision course toward self-destruction ala tete a tete
With Anorexia Nervosa as thy then coveted deadly mate
A brutal hellish spiral down into abysmal depths of despair did create
Indelible psychological affects undermined existence I now equate
writ horrendous emotional, physical and social upon head of mate
Pledged his troth (almost 2 decades ago), which spouse doth berate
For lack of expressed concern and attests schizoid psychic slate
irrevocably seared and stunted natural development where I rate
prepubescent, early adulthood mental illness did grate
Against once boisterously playful innocent boy crushed potentate
Only male heir from me deceased mother who tried to extirpate
Mailer daemons who forged suicide pact and via voice did dictate
Albeit without success, yet decry forsaken innate
Experiences with female relationships lured my own poisoned bait!
Opening my eyes …To the fire
In pain I can’t describe - Hell’s flames …Are beyond my thinking - Beyond comprehension
Nothing can quench …The fire I am alive - I cannot die - I’m on fire … In the depths of a place
I never imagined … Or dreaded - A place I didn’t believe existed
There is pain, torment - Yes… weeping and gnashing of teeth
In the darkness …Black horror - A dreadful place where there is no Light – because … There is no God here - He has forever disappeared
Never to be there … With His kindness
His love and light - never again will I know good
Questions pierce my mind
The times I could have chosen a different path
The way, the truth, the life
He offered me salvation from this horrific place
I didn’t choose His grace and now I’m forever embraced ny these angry, torturous flames
This anguish that never goes away
This is a horror I didn’t think could be - A reality … now I’m paying forever - For my lack of faith
A horror story - A true story - Of life and death
Choose life - Jesus saves from this
Pain that is beyond words and comprehension
Give Him your soul - He will make you whole
Save you from this …Ungodly home
Eternal fire for those who choose such - Awful trepidation
Forever awaits - This is your chance
Luke 13:28
King James Version
28 There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out.
God made a way…
John 3:16
King James Version
16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
I’m thankful that I’m saved and won’t ever see this place I portray in this poem!!!
Fading into the black expanse,
I feel my life as it slowly passes me by,
Flashing before me like one of those picture shows,
Spanning from my childhood,
Up until the day I left home,
And abandoned all that I loved.
I went off to seek my place in the world,
Because I felt like a caged bird in that town,
That had it's wings clipped long before it could fly,
Imprisoned in a place where people came and went,
Never staying for periods more than a few months,
And ultimately, leaving me to die inside.
But one day, I came upon something new,
A new lease on life you might say,
I took it without thinking of the consequences,
Was hoping that it was my ticket to fixing that which was broken,
To replace the hurt and pain that dwelled in me,
But...I was wrong.
There is no sound here,
Just an endless abyss of tiny lights,
Glittering far off in the distance,
Like long lost beacons,
Trying to welcome me home.
I feel peace here unlike my home,
The cold air I can feel enter my lungs through a small cavity,
My life line cut when I was thrust out into the weightless atmosphere,
From a devastating explosion,
That was caused by an unexpected meteor shower.
I sent out a distress signal,
But know they won't make it in time,
I'm millions of miles from the earth,
As well as the closest station.
With my last breath I breathe,
I remember everyone's face,
Back when life was still grand,
Knowing soon I'll be at peace,
And lost to this life I once lived.
The stars are my home now,
The earth is my light,
The heavens will soon part,
As time takes me away,
Back into the dark expanse,
That will blanket me in eternal slumber.
Form:
MAP OF EUROPE - OBJECTUM SEXUAL *
O coastline with cool expanse of blue Atlantic
Your curves and indentations drive me frantic.
Sometimes thrust out peninsularly;
Sometimes studied docilely and scholarly;
Land stretching from White sea and Iberia
To Black Sea and Siberia.
O Europe, my virgin obsession geographical
Is verging on possession sexual.
Other continents are jealous - Africa is so island-poor, so peninsula-penniless,
And of rivers, capes and bays it has many less:
It would give a pretty penny to have just one Iberia, Jutland, or Scandinavia
To excite its smooth coast and other geographic behavior.
Australians would love islands with romantic names Capri Lesbos Rum Eig Frisian
Or an archipelago-infested sea like the Aegean.
South Americans cry themselves to sleep at night because they lack
Such Nordic coastal features as Trondheim or Skaggerak
Beijing would give all the tea in China because she must
Satisfy her desire for an Italian-shaped peninsula, a bootless lust.
Of course Asia feels no envy, for it has kukri-shaped Kamchatka
And the only large island in the world, Sumatra,
Which rhymes with the best singer in the world, Sinatra.
This Map of Europe is something I just have to possess.
My life is incomplete without its caress.
If I didn’t have it, my world would be a mess.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
NOTES
1 * “Objectum Sexual” is defined on GOOGLE as erotic
love towards an object of any sort.
2 N. B. This poem is purely fiction
The Devil Within
I’ve paid nevermind to the world ending, it has ended for me many times, only to begin again each morning.
For behind these once innocent eyes, a true darkness there lies.
Hidden in the absence of light, out of sight, out of mind, it’s here the devil hides.
For truth be told, the devil and I our souls the same, for the monster I’ve become, in the devil I confide.
All the while I search the vast, dark empty halls of my mind for my own reflection, knowing if not seen, I’ll remain forever lost to walk day after day, step by step in no direction.
While consumed by hate, driven by fear and led blind into the fight
Watching all those who came home before from war to darkness without the light.
Please listen to my words, written by my hand in pen, on paper in bleeding ink, my truth be told.
These hands are stained crimson red with innocent blood gone cold.
While haunted by memories of piercing cries, cries for mercy, cries for life.
Cries befallen on deaf ears, only sound heard is a final gasp as I thrust out my knife.
To take a life, their final breath, their last words with just a flick of my wrist.
Killing without remorse, without feeling as if they didn’t really exist.
Those sights, those smells and sounds of war haunt your mind which never erase.
Just burned into your senses, your memories you must someday face.
All the while the devil inside you is pleased to have another willing soul so freely welcome death.
As you let the darkness envelope you, you take the devil’s hand and take your final breath.
By WV
I look to the skies and I see you,
Your face smiling in the midday sun
The rainbow on a damp day
Reminds me of us having fun
Brings to mind the rides at a fairground
The stalls and the coconut shie
The ghost train, where we would steal a kiss
The hit the hammer stall,
which I knew you would try
The bell rings you've done it
Hit the Highest score
Chest thrust out in achievement
Brings a thought to keep for sure
Rain brings another story I think of us
Huddled up under a brolly to keep dry
The puddles we jumped together
Rain on our faces as though we had cried
Holding hands we didn't notice how wet we were
Sneezing and coughs starting the next day
Is this the price we have to pay
For memories that I hold dear.
Snow wow now these are mega thoughts
Snow ball fights are so much fun
Rolling you over in a snow drift
Putting snow down your neck and run
Then there is the snowman be built together
Carrot for a nose and stones for eyes
Scarf round his beck completes the picture
Tears when the sun shines, it slowly melts
bringing about the snowman's demise.
Autumn with its cold nights
A log fire has been lit
Romantic music playing
On the floor leaning against you
Is where I sit.
Now I sit alone looking into the fire so bright
Imagining I can see you smiling
Saying don't worry, all will be alright.
I think of you, I always think if you
Oh how he watches me in the shadow of his tree,
strong, bold and blocking out the glare of the sun.
He claims I shine like the stars, the moon, brighter than them all,
A blazing comet, a speeding fireball.
He stands close and my sparks ignite a fire,
They shower down upon his figure,
warm and yet his skin does not singe,
Nor does he burn or go blind when staring at my radiance.
When first he lay eyes upon my naked form,
Heart mangled and organs thrust out into the world,
My skin quivered as fear closed a dark cloud around me.
He pushed through it with a soft light,
Barely gleaming so as to not hurt my eyes.
Gentle touch to my cheek with not pity but understanding,
Like a Shepard to a lost lamb he tended to my wounds.
He spoke with intelligence and honesty,
and watched as slowly I stood and then grew.
Shedding the shadow in which I had once lived
He tended my soul until I bloomed
Galaxies away I felt the touch of his love,
He threw his faith and his hope at me,
Feeding from the power he saw.
A hummingbird to nectar,
And I was his flower, growing high in the sun.
He whispered great stories to me
saying, oh, powerful one,
Live in beauty and laugh often,
Ride through the winds like a spoken memory,
Pictures engraved in the heart of a tree,
Be the beauty, the power you wish to be.
I spy, a feather beauty bright
With speckled blush on breast
Basking within the thicket light
Dancing round about her tiny branch
Your fluttering sight beholding
Within the snowy briar
Bathing among the warmth
Of the morning's golden glory
Its brilliance your own crown of halo
Like a sunburst that swallows
Up the end of February's sigh
As other feathers flusters zoom right by
The ginger little fellows all dappled, scramble
A merry-go-round within a flight
Threading joyous song throughout your bramble
As further flocks of scurry, hurry fly
On parade teasing wings of faerie sprites
A musical path of crisscross kites
But, you little one are the daring, bursting forth
With higher operatic songs, to startle and scold those spry
Feather beauty bravely
Upon your perch chest thrust out boldly
Nonsense rhymes and a new found might
Chase away the imps of finch and thrush
And keep yourself the sunbeams for its light
And bask yourself once more this time
Among the drops of melting dripping snow
And gather up all tis full
Feasting here, where the wild wild berries grow
But, in the end you are their kin
And soon, my fairy feathered friend you too must go
Out, onto twittering leafy stemmy stem and off...
Into the yonder of the coming spring to rove