Long Triggering Poems
Long Triggering Poems. Below are the most popular long Triggering by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Triggering poems by poem length and keyword.
I’ve inherited contradictions - which could be genetic, original-personal failings, or the result of family dynamics - those are like the background radiation left by the big bang.
If you’re in school long enough, you take a lot of psychology tests. In my psychological makeup, a drippy sentimentality uncomfortably coexists with a cat-like indifference. This is probably my French cultural inheritance - is it too late to add that factor?
The seedbed of my current cognitive dissonance is time - I don’t have a lot of time for other people’s issues. Please accept these earnest, unfiltered insights - even if they are laced with caffeine.
I finally got some graded papers back - I wondered if they were shredding or recycling them. I did ok. It was an electrifying moment in an otherwise indifferent week.
Let’s wax somewhat poetically…
I’m loving the Université.
The architectural spaces,
the concertante ways people
move through functional areas
and the layers of differing sounds
- the heard-like, instinctive responses
to the triggering abstractions of universal signage
- going up or down, yes, no, stop, go -
that send us in well-practis'd directions.
I find the colour and movement,
the fashion mix of high and low cultures
lush and satisfying but you can never get
a cup of coffee large enough.
enough of THAT.
I’m not a poet at all. You’ve heard of method actors? Well, I’m a method writer. I fully inhabit my one and only character who, in turns, charms, repels, embarrases and delights me - just like everyone else in my life.
Would you buy defining yourself, in little vignettes, as an audacious act?
I write ‘flash fiction,’ I’m told, because it presents only one person’s perspective - but I do it with forensic precision - and present it all with the narrative negligence that defines my work - it’s art, people - on a time budget.
.
.
Songs for this:
new friends by flowerovlove [E]
Tokyo Lift (5am) by Cautious Clay
I Should Be Home by Balu Brigada
Hendecasyllabic Alliterative Pseudo-rhyming Abecedarian
Artfully arranging all attestations
Breathlessly bringing bright beautifications
Carefully constructing clever contraptions
Daringly, dauntingly delving deductions
Eagerly, easily ending extractions
Fancifully forming flirtatious factions
Gustily grasping gigantic gradations
Hazily having harsh hallucinations
Instantly inking imagined infractions
Jarringly journaling jacked judications
Kindly knuckling known keratinizations
Lightheartedly launching lame litigations
Misguidedly making mean machinations
Noticeably needing noninterventions
Obnoxiously outing odd operations
Pensively perusing past permutations
Questioning queerly quixotic quotations
Relentlessly razing rare restorations
Sneeringly slinging snarky salutations
Thoughtfully triggering true transformations
Unduly uttering Ute ululations
Vibrantly voicing verve versifications
Willingly working warm winterizations
Xenophobes x-ing xenotransplantations
Youthfully yearning yak yarnifications,
Zany, zesty zebra zombifications
----------
Hendecasyllabic (11 syllable lines), alliterative Abecedarian employing pseudo-rhyming
Yarnification ought to be the process of making yarn or tall tales :-)
We sit our cell waiting,
waiting for the night to fire,
we sat on the shattering ground of reality,
listening to the dogs chasing each other,
we hear the boys triggering guns,
and people screaming and shouting as they run.
Bullets whistle over our heads,
hitting the secret walls around our beds,
clapping endlessly in the dark
setting the troubled night on fire.
We sat up the entire night,
and listened to them fight,
we heard them giving orders
to track us down,
and wound us with their guns.
We sat in silence,
dead frigid silence,
eyes frozen on each other
piecing together our secret plans
as they draw closer to the lamp stand.
Left only with our faith,
they burst the door with their guns
tear the roof apart
with us sitting in the dark.
We sat quietly trusting,
choking coughs, and clamping sneezes,
we held firmly to our faith,
and shortly they were not heard or seen.
©2013 Christine Phillips
(okay, yukon axe me whatsapp pinning,
though beep pre spired, cuz mess sigh key
threads experience didst rub burr raw
as if spun as a micro spindle.)
Woolworth (Penneys on
the Dollar Store) Sears electronic,
dynamic and atomic weight
cumulative decades of suppressed
crackle, snap,
and pop, triggering
psychotic sans tete a tete
legal tender visa vis
bit coin block
chain payback daily
quotidian fits and starts
trigger torrential spate
impinging ability to relish potential
existential joie de vivre
finding me (I rate)
analogous to suffocating
unbearable pressure, yours truly
doth eek quate
to Metallica Mega-death
accessing, hammering, and pinpointing
(excel lent lee powerfully)
every square inch
of mine pate
strewing, sparking fiery
fingerhut sized explosions,
and slamming incessant
psychological torture akin to
a pernicious hidebound mate
and as of this date
November 20th two thousand eight
scored entrenched occupation
of my fifty plus
shades of gray matter
becoming more agonizing of late,
where suicidal ideation,
where repressed self hate
sprung from cumulative
(albeit cloudy with
a chance of at least one
meatball i.e. me) psyche subject
to verbal whipping (yours truly),
the gloating mean
bullies didst denigrate,
without doubt half life of
Matthew Scott Harris
aint at all great,
yet to some degree, this saturated
scorpion poisoned, mauled
and jackknifed fate
in some measure
duet hoo war ton internalized
emotions griffins
hound, feast, and delight
(more so ravenously
throve) on Hawaii,
and seamy to Maui
didst successfully, (particularly
throughout earlier decades)
emasculate, under estimate,
now (in retrospect) execrate
at invisible monster
on par with beastie boy
Doctor Frankenstein didst create
only upon death doom
he part wretchedness
will hoop fully abate.
Positive mental map messages
contain no more sacred information
than appositional negatives not
not yet space/time body/mind
mediating organic territories.
Linear language 2D maps referee
spacetime's not not 4D-embodied referents
4D ecosystems
of organic co-binary living relationships
loving and leaving sunny days
and dark moist times
and pleasing peaceful co-passionate territories
Win/Win thriving
and Win/Lose surviving
dialectically changing re-collective DNA-fractal maps
as synergetic minds
re-experience dreams
re-ligioning
re-connecting
re-weaving
re-generating
re-creatively crowning neurosystemic 2D map ego-minds
and rootsystemic 4D territorial eco-bodies
Curiously exploring
for a more engaging
healthier
richer sacred song
and organic dance liturgy
Flash mob sacred hopes
resonantly thriving not
not fending off worst mass killing surviving
organically dis-organizing fears
dissonant
dissipating angers
triggering past hate crime win/lose rituals
unfolding Earth's dark and stormy
patriarchally misogynistic
too crown-capitalistic
not not dissonantly degenerative
dissociative memories.
Dark divine messages
neurosystemically passed down
through all Noah Arking maps
flowing through rivers
of fertile blood
and fevered crowning brains
Neural root systems
re-connecting ecosystemic pleasure's passion
for therapeutic win/win sacred mystery
de-connecting ego-organic displeasure's dispassioning
win/lose territorial trauma history
reweaving every divinely mapped polynomial thing
as also not
not any humanely co-relational polypathic territory,
every sacred co-binary referee
2D linear mind,
every organic co-relational referent
4D roundly dialectical body
Our territorial relationship history to love
not EitherWin/Or Lose survival
not mapping Both/And thrival mystery's
win/win re-ligious re-dis-cover.
You're as agile as a supple leopard,
imbued with a wild imagination.
And melting my heart with warm caresses:
your smile guides love to its destination.
You see the beauty hidden from most eyes;
and buff it till it shines for all to see.
And fantasy fuels reality:
as love grants a taste of its ecstasy.
We snuggle up to a cozy feeling
shared in the ambiance of our embrace.
And afloat in a sea of emotions:
my wishes and your wishes interlace.
I feel my heart beating in sync with yours,
triggering feelings of exaltation.
And two hearts suddenly morph into one:
immersed in love's intimate sensation.
Outward brain stem hummock
analogously, (asper bound
minuscule magnum opus)
figuratively paginated with drowned
atavistic animal instincts
roar back to life upon found
perceived or real threat adrenaline
splashes cerebral hemispheres
triggering body electric
to become alert as a bloodhound
countless millenniums ago
the flight or fight reaction apropos
when savage beasts
threatened tribe with bro
whizzing primitive creatures
some forced tweet crow
wing, thence railing, swooping,
trouncing dough
main housing small cluster of emo
ting primates (gabbling in primal
grunts and groans witnessing ruminants
scurrying to and fro
survival of the fittest danger field
thus by dint of inherent smarts didst grow
outwitting wily coyote, or other lion eyes, hoe
ping automatic saving grace tactics recalled,
when looming predator doth woof
and warp emergency arises,
when debacle fore stalled
for time against getting mauled
whereby each subsequent ruse
out foxing fierce-some, hungry non a mew
zing potential breakfast, lunch,
or dinner as the sorry loo
sir aye sic newton, sans
this non nonsense game of "Life",
which thru countless millenniums strategies grew
layered upon left and right cerebral hemispheres few
till hetty became diminished
as proper contra bands of bipedal hominids drew
upon accumulated storied history
learned from Bubba Zayda's
many times over motley (foolish) crew
squirreling modus operandi
wove (traversing eons)
corpus collosum hair
(more so nerve fiber weave
a microscopic whirled wide web linkedin
left and right fist size gray matter
coated with transparent integument
custom made swiftly tailored sleeve
ah...proving grounds,
when forebears of *****Sapiens
touch and go tagged on permanent leave
on par with imagining dragons easy to believe.
And there it comes crashing down all the way to midfield bearing an anchor and a crown and an inscription buried in the ground that reads epitaph of a derailed dream. Thousands pack the soccer stadium waiting anxiously for the match to begin; at the brawling sound whistle of the boys began sing. They spread out on the field, running after their own shadows, but the shadows were too swift so they end up landing on the beggar’s man head. Several missed opportunity scrambled by and the roar and shouts began to mount in the sky.
The birds are flying over head carrying a heavy burden upon their head and the mystical sound from the woodpecker pecking wood from a distance chimes in. And then the thunder rolled bringing back memory to my soul. I could visualize the days when I used to go by the sea shore and walk on white sand that saturate deep in the land; and the birds would come scampering around looking for fish that have washed up on the shore. The sound of the motorboats cutting through water in an urgency to avert a disaster. Just as I was about to relax on the shore the lightning flashed illuminating the sky and burning the energy out of the tree and melting their courage as they stand by.
A rush of energy passed through my body and something in the stadium blasted through the air, the pipe broke with a force parachuting spectators from the stand, knocking them out of their seats and spreading them on the ground of the soccer field. The cry for help resonated all around but the military could not be found destiny hangs high on a thread carrying them off to mesmerize with the dead.
The crowd rushed towards the entrance triggering a mass stampede some people got crushed in their head, and hundreds of them end up dead. The water kept flowing and my spirit kept moaning and water engulf the soccer field and form a sea in seconds. Big boats rolling in and more than a hundred helicopters circle the sky looking for a place to land to aid in the rescue.
The cravings festers, it so feels like yesterday, its a day without seeing the peace assuring facial, mounting to two in my wholesome, wonder where you are when I miss you this much, like a smoker the cravings ravishes my patience, with everything around me triggering my every crave, can't keep up, my patience collapses
so much in my mind at work, imagining, wish to insert my hand and touch what my mind put to memory, sad i can't, feel crippled by the impossibility. The fresh breath of your aroma, like morning breeze, rattling of leaves dzamn your royal highness why though?,
hear the waves of your voice making currents in my distanced imagination, the yearning shuts my attention booths one after the other, please rush to my presence before everything turns pitch black and numb, its you my current situation remedy, and nobody else, for I'm nobody else's but yours
something in me its out of form, though i fail to tell what it could be, please come fix my amorphousness in sanity, with part of me in sinking, sinking to your absence, what nature can be against us now of all the time, where could you be? my heart ask
its all void in my steadiness, wanna touch you, wanna feel your fingers melting down my spinal, wanna hold your breath in my lungs as you lay on my chest feeding life to my whole body through your eyes, but you are nowhere near,
realising your absence, takes away my here and now, feel crippling forces of being incomplete taking over my pulse, I'm leaning on stuttering beats, please save me from you, for this overwhelms my whole,
I'm caught in this dungeon of longing, longing for my heart belonging, Your royal highness command my mind to harmony, I just wanna be by your range, its all arid and without here, without you, I'm without, without you
#Poetic_Ink
Recently, I requested my former husband,
regarding compassion and compassionate health care only...
As, my HIPPA compliance never got far enough.
To save me before hip and prostration, as a Wahabi or Shafi'i
I needed permission to leave the classroom.
had to happen in a lobby or a darkroom spot.
Blind, rear, spot and spotting.
all these words are intricate, triggering and
possibly extenuatingly sensual
Where someone, even I
will feel that the deceased mother-in-law
is talking even in rumination.
to a health care professional of health care compassionate
Third party enough.
2-10-2024