Long Tie down Poems
Long Tie down Poems. Below are the most popular long Tie down by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tie down poems by poem length and keyword.
Losing it... things don't mean .
Can't just make it fit.
Take a knife and make a slit... no... won't do it.
Time to get lit.
Trust it. Don't know yet.
it. Not literally, ...
don't know yet...
gotta stand my ground, unstable,
it's gone, can't be found,
my mind isn't able, not alone...
A storms coming, clouds inbound,
find the cable, tie down, no sound...
take a number, sit down,
it's too late, too soon?
The alarms went off but clouds were already circling... this storm turned into a hurricane
don't want to feel anything ...
get rid of it all just to numb the pain,
Can't fix my heart or my brain..
too late, already ingrained.
Make me feel insane
scream it silently
it's all in vain...
time to let go
and let the others take control before i fumble...
sitting backseat watching the waters rise and buildings crumble...
the game plan was botched who dropped the ball?
I'm giving in before I fall.
I'm becoming locked inside my head but maybe it's for the best...
let the others take a turn while I try to get some rest.
Can they tell it's not me?
I guess we will see... set them free...
so mote it be.
Radiant like the sun,
Like the depths of ocean.
Lies the Epicentre around the coldness of void and the warmth of magma.
If the momentum is too fast,if may go out of control like the consequences of present.
Too slow and the past will tie down the hope.
Bursts will occur at the right time,
To push the ball beyond the void of darkness,
In the chase of distant shiny star.
Cornered by the will of millions,
A step at a time,it may take decades
To move a step forward.
Narrow are the possibilities,of the error has occur in the past.
But not the lesson it teach.
If you fall,then fall like the debris.
Calmly accepting the dept of ocean everytime it falls.
The wonder will shine for millennia.
To those who supported it,will be trapped in shadow.
Reality is,no one cares.
Only for the pillars,it glow like the radiant Sun.
[Date of written:10-oct/2023]
Losing it... things don't mean .
Can't just make it fit.
Take a knife and make a slit... no... won't do it.
Time to get lit.
Trust it. Don't know yet.
it. Not literally, ...
don't know yet...
gotta stand my ground, unstable,
it's gone, can't be found,
my mind isn't able, not alone...
A storms coming, clouds inbound,
find the cable, tie down, no sound...
take a number, sit down,
it's too late, too soon?
The alarms went off but clouds were already circling... this storm turned into a hurricane
don't want to feel anything ...
get rid of it all just to numb the pain,
Can't fix my heart or my brain..
too late, already ingrained.
Make me feel insane
scream it silently
it's all in vain...
time to let go
and let the others take control before i fumble...
sitting backseat watching the waters rise and buildings crumble...
the game plan was botched who dropped the ball?
I'm giving in before I fall.
I'm becoming locked inside my head but maybe it's for the best...
let the others take a turn while I try to get some rest.
Can they tell it's not me?
I guess we will see... set them free...
so mote it be.
We heard the alert!
Big storm coming!
Batter down the hatches.
Tie down the loose stuff.
Board up the windows, sandbag the doors.
Remove any debris that may fly around.
We did it all, in plenty of time.
But, we looked around dismayed.
The neighbors did nothing.
Many were away, out of reach, not contactable.
We saw that their properties were a vulnerable bedlam mess.
With debris, loose stuff, dead trees, everywhere.
Decided it was too risky to trespass.
Hoped for the best!
But, storm did not heed our call
to be blessed as best dressed!
The storm hit hard!
Debris flew all around -
punched holes in our roof and walls;
smashed our window with flying junk;
neighbors trees flew and topped on our fences.
It was bedlam, a total disastrous mess,
not made by any of our stuff!
But, who can we blame.
To whom does the tin sheets
flying around belong?
Who owned the tree branch
that smashed out our roof?
Who had the neglected and blocked
their drain that flooded our yard?
The truth was there was no one
who we could blame, for the damage done
other than the storm, long gone.
For the debris that flew could not
be traced to anyone.
The storm had found us out!
Called us out!
We were in the same boat
as the neighbors who had copped out,
and neighbors who were out at the time.
All together hit hard, damaged, blameless,
found out and counted out.
A well-worn witch flits and twists through the indigo mist.
Gloating in genius, I look at my well-read list.
Bats shaken out of their sleep, come out to dive bomb.
I toast them with my dragon breath, singing a psalm.
The witch gives me a shake of her dirty little fist.
She makes me happy with her anger. I tie down her wrist.
Her pet crow dive bombs me as I add to the pyre.
I will lash him to it also, before I set the fire.
Do you think you are being too cruel? Little dragon asks me.
I roll my eyes, happy as I could ever and I mean EVER be.
My mind is made up. I am getting rid of all this garbage today.
My children are so crazy about these video games they do not want to play.
Halloween Horrors is the first video game to toss.
Followed by Witchy Wind Chimes and Ghost Busters by Ross.
I smile at the icons as they are deleted from my phone.
Now we can be a family again. Is that a ringtone?
Written: 9-13-2019
Contest: Welcome to My Random World
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
I am counting down the days when the clouds will break away and the troposphere in the sky will peel away the substance from the earth and the stratosphere in the atmosphere will cool down the temperature in the air.
And the wind will take its ambition to the moon and blow towards the East and the corroded air will cease.
The wind is blowing in the north and something magnificent is about to start, some new comers are in the town they are going up north to settle down before their weary body grows old.
.
They have boxes and pans with them and ropes to tie down the lion in the den and they have all the resources that they need for a year and they have nothing to fear. Up north is very cold but their spirit is very bold and when the cold sinks into their skins they all gather around the piano and start to sing.
Elevate yourself on top of the stone and examine the air pressure coming out of the sea, it carries the weight of a thousand soul whose bodies were left to rot on th ocean floor.
Divers could not find them and explorers could not rescue them, their spirits are buried in the sea and each time a seagull crawls upon the shore, it is one of those lost soul at sea come to pay tribute to the world; their home is at sea.
Just look around and tell me what you see, the clouds are coming after thee, the rain is pelting in the west and the birds are traveling south west the airline are flying at a high altitude and the eagle is racing towards that sun. Look at the latent heat up there and the thermal radiation over there.
The gas layers of the troposphere are expanding and the dense cloud are moving on. Just take a look at the puzzle once more before you walk through the door, try to fit the missing pieces when you find them raise your hands towards the heavens and say ,
”we have found the missing ones.”
Bother less,
If you are denied deserving glory,
And their obsession you can’t guess,
Since their thoughts are dark and gory.
Keep forging forth your brilliance,
Let them keep dancing in their guilts;
They only strengthen your resilience —
Keep making your work gleams with gilts.
Your talent they can’t entrap;
In time, it will escape their greed.
Their arrogance your verse will sap,
Since myopia forms their creed.
The more your gains, the more their pains;
So they find salt to rub into your injuries.
Tie down their conscience with long chains —
Not too bad if you, too, sour their gingeries.
Your heart bleeds, already pale,
Yet they wrap their wickedness in scorn.
Their envy too tall for truth to scale —
So unleash your wrath — and make them mourn.
Am I the only one to think
that a kite is such a sad thing?
Flimsy...frail...
never really free,
forever tied to a string
Yes, it can soar indeed,
so high, with the wind taking it places,
almost making it forget,
just enjoying the wind rushing through,
lighthearted
The wind drops,
then it gets snared
among tree branches maybe,
or perhaps stuck on a roof or elsewhere
with its string all tangled and knotted,
almost impossible to untangle
if made with paper,
it should be lucky to still be intact,
with nary a tear
more often than not,
it gets ditched in the trash,
the price to pay for
its momentary freedom
Sometimes, though
perhaps a rarity these days,
there is that boy who makes
that kite from scratch,
whittles the sticks himself,
painstakingly forming that frame,
creating that kite with love
So when it does get all tangled up,
that boy still tries so hard to fix it,
to make it new...
never minding the cuts
he gets in the process--
That string not meant to tie down
that kite,
but a lifeline to the boy
But like I said,
that must be a rare thing these days...
For I am one to think
that a kite is such a sad thing...
Flimsy...frail...
never really free,
forever tied to a string
** There are many of you who have helped me in my journey in writing, & my heartfelt smiley thanks to all of you but I'd also like to give thank you hugs and smiles to Chris D. Aechtner ^_^ I distinctly remember asking you about Sijo, wow when was that? 2 years ago? Back then, I knew I asked the right person--& from there, you've helped bring to light (& helped me appreciate) a lot of other writing forms, just talking about those forms was a blast, just you sharing some of what you've been learning along the way (& believe me, I've learned even a thing or two! can I just say this? I bet you'd make an awesomely cool teacher :D)-- from sijo, to limericks, to sonnets, to haiku and kimo, to than-bauk to that Grook! ook! Being mainly a free-verse writer, you've helped me diversify & that means a lot to me. So my heartfelt thank you for being there in my poetic journey, and for being my friend :D
oops. that wasn't a couple of lines?! lol
Often wondered bout people down under
Do they have to stand on their heads?
Do they have to tie down all their possessions?
Is flying off into space their dread?
We hope they all stay attached to the earth
We love them and their cute little bears
Once I was told by this Australian lady
Their breath can sure foul up the air
All my Aussie friends here on the Soup
Refer to their land as paradise
I was also told that the biceps on women
Are huge from hanging on for dear life
Now I know this must be some great myth
Olivia's seemed quite normal to me
You can't believe all the rumours you hear
But in case, hang onto to that tree!
Often wondered bout people down under
How do they keep their beer in their glass?
Do they chain themselves to the bed at night?
Do roots pop up instead of grass?
@Jack Ellison 2012
What is born in the thermals of a barren land
A spiral of destruction sublime
(I feel its power seeping into the ground)
Across the seas, it comes with fury
With no conscious thought, it gives to its wake
It can feel no sorrow as lives are at stake
No other peril of divinity, the instrument of a
Geo-thermal machine a perfect design
Leagues in size, all-seeing eye, arms hold thunder
In dark clouds hold lighting watching...
Watching it lance, the broken plains. It claims the spoils.
(The deconstruction of man-making is in its mind)
The plundering of the Apes' riches
As a coil of power pulls tighter
A Hand clutches the invisible
Like the gods of antiquity fighting a holy war
In heavenly realms; up high
The clouds fly, see the flickering
Once a war of nature ravaged this land of my mine
Now comes the braking of that peace
Whaling of Lands and Wind
I stand to defend this land of mine
With nothing but my hands and time
(I tie down everything to keep it with me, my only company)
The fury comes,
I pray to a god of cold stars,
That I will survive
This destruction of land and man
To live to see another day,
The power of wind-born in a desolate age,
A spiral of wicked filigree, liquid pain,
I wonder, I see no end in this primal rage,
I ponder its birth plains. This eternal wrath!
(This Hurricane…)