Long Tweak Poems
Long Tweak Poems. Below are the most popular long Tweak by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tweak poems by poem length and keyword.
What is the void as in no-thingness
Wherein Shiva resides
As the pulse within in our emptiness
In resonance we abide
Awareness & sentience of no-mind
Limited self vaporises
What upon empty space has a bind
As we behold surprises
It is form that being limited may feel
Magnetism within rising
Cognisant of ecstasy in full appeal
The life current vivifying
Meditating thus in continuity
Unifying with Shiva a certainty
We may if we wish, tweak this meditation
Assigning initially to the void a colouration
The masters propose the colour blue
Dwelling upon it our stillness we renew
Slowly allowing the colour to fade
Whereupon we enter Shivas formless glade
21-October-2020
You know that I won
Some say I clear lost
Their whines so exhaust
Wrong man they just crossed.
How wrong they all are
Fools to a man
When I've only began
To work out my plan.
Just wait and see
The Don at his best
When put to the test
I’ll make them all stressed.
First up I'll sue
Reverse the dumb vote
My win then promote
Un-float their small boat.
That all said and done
If not quite enough
I may tweak the math
Then get rough and tough.
Call up our fine troops
Coerce the weak judges
Then when in my clutches
It's me or coarse crutches.
I think that will do it
But should I be wrong
There's a place I belong
The land of the strong.
A country of Lochs
Of moors and steep hills
Abundant in stills
Real folk with few frills.
That land I can buy
In fact much I own
And Celt to the bone
I’ll claim Scotland's throne.
A great fallback plan
Melania as queen
All day she can preen
Unspoken just seen.
Once king I can rule
Play golf and write laws
As a man without flaws
Days filled with applause.
My plans fully set
I'll ponder and see
For whatever will be
Yet I’m ready to flee.
My svelte bushy tailed cat, Hamilton, whose praises I laud,
leapt onto my lap and purred in a jittery fashion because,
a whiff of marked shift in daily routine,
she did pick up from my nonverbal long body waves,
each earnest habit once set in stone an absent without trace,
my darling pet so alert would detect the slightest tweak,
and spell out how the goal post now astir smelt fishy,
Hamilton, a character so utterly oozes otherworld charm,
as is the wont of divine feline species beyond limit,
and with impishness a constant in the past this pet of mine,
would latch on to each prized item as if driven to whisk them away,
that guilt free shrewd smirk infernal innocent methinks,
why me no I wouldn’t bug, irk, upset one so precious as you,
or tear at your tender heart haphazardly in an inane quest,
for nose-rubbing notice, deep bond playful jest,
as I peer in awe at that dainty trot whilst on the prowl,
a misty eyed me recalled her fond cat laugh bag of tricks,
yet to hear a taxi outside beep is a less than warm reminder,
that I must depart though unwilling from Hamilton’s grasp,
bursting into a sob as she stared from the stair top
The new year speaks in humble tones,
Joy comes to tweak but not alone.
Happy lives here as joy transcends,
Go with good cheer as work attends.
Do what you will to stay the course,
Feel how you feel yet know your cause.
There comes a time when all thoughts rhyme,
No voice can mime true peace that chimes.
Seek to be still that truth may come,
Learn to purge will that love may drum.
Choice starts the flow of happy days,
Poise finds what grows bright rainbow rays.
See warm flavours in journey fare,
Love finds harbour through trials and cares.
Learn to be true with humble quest,
It's up to you to live full zest.
When death comes round to take you home,
Sight sacred grounds where love can roam.
Leon Enriquez
05 January 2016
Singapore
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tweak
I sit in scarlet-slashed silence
refusing to permit the
piercing dark
to stain the sky with ugliness ~
so forgive the
receptors of resilient rectangles;
I witness smoke of confusion
drifting through
a distorted perspective
while ink bleeds
3 a.m. across the caffeinated canvas
where crimson
crowns blurred
borders of boundaries,
leaving no room for twisted tales
to tamper and tweak the truth
of a mind devoted to
peace and poetry ~
while the host of hostility
bereft of humility
plots to curate cortisol
forked within
the silverware of spite
let not the hurt ~
O inverted intruder
teach the bruised blade
to talk in textures
that could trigger
a tormented tornado
beneath ice-cold nails
as karma follows
the feline eyes
of cruel consequences
to your doorstep
I chose to be the current
flowing above unapologetic roses
no longer seeking
validation nor sagas
spoken soundlessly to the stars
I mark the withering
of wickedness
and woeful words
to embrace the
light of Heaven’s house ~
the ultimate ultraviolet
dripping from the
hands of hope
read me as I reweave
a valley of awakened dreams
where desires
spell themselves
in deep blues of devotion
nevermore vainly vulnerable ~
amidst the geography
of gilded grace
crossing the length of my limbs
until I arrive
at a guiltless lane of immutable love…
It’s half past three.
I am fully awake ~
but I am neither
an insomniac nor a sleeper,
merely a word-dreamer
in love with Poetry ...
Lost in a maze of numbers, tight,
I scratched my head—my hair took flight.
Paused a while, let time slip free,
Returned with fresh eyes—oh, the key!
A whisper of change, a shift in the tide,
A tweak in thought, the answer inside.
The Earth once breathed in steady tune,
Now, fevered winds howl at the moon.
A fraction climbs—a world remade,
Snow on dunes, storms invade.
A moment too slight, a world redefined,
A tipping scale of nature’s mind.
The markets dance on trembling ground,
A rumor falls—fortunes drown.
One misstep, a reckless word,
And empires crumble, fate deterred.
A fragile thread, a sudden spin,
A tipping point, where losses begin.
Life itself, a delicate fight,
Right or wrong, dim or bright.
A fleeting spark, a guiding hand,
May tip the scales where choices stand.
For a long time after marriage
I thought I was very responsible -
Growing in my career, while also
taking care of the house, husband and kid.
Little did I understand,
the blissful life I had been leading.
I had to wait 15 years
to get to the next level.
Our parents reached an age
when they couldn’t live alone anymore.
As good dutiful children,
we brought them home to be taken care of.
Then came my promotion,
from carefree life to caregiver.
The plant I was managing
suddenly turned into a forest.
“Carrot and stick” can work on children-
but only “patience and care” works on parents.
One doesn’t become a gardener overnight -
it takes time, mistakes and lessons for that.
They are no longer guests at my house -
instead, I needed to tweak my schedule.
Breakfast at 8, lunch – never late;
Taste for the tongue, with smile on lips.
With my husband by my side,
we learnt to tend the forest together.
By tackling issues hand in hand,
we made room for creepers, trees and shrubs.
A strong house needs sturdy pillars,
and people willing to hold each other up.
That was the balance I had to strike -
until then, I was a guest in my own house.
However, old age is also a phase -
everyone will eventually get there;
Just like how they raised us once,
it is now our turn to return the favour.
The house has to hold us all –
the old, the young, and those in between.
Somewhere between giving and receiving,
I have to find myself again.
The strongest support for responsibilities
is adjustment – from all sides;
Just like a root pushing against rock,
I will find a way to keep growing strong.
Ebony shades glisten in the sun
Black curls downy and soft attract everyone
Tiny tots stroke my hair
touch my nose. tweak my ear.
I watch my friend across the way
I want to play with her if I may
But something tells me if I do
All I'll hear is shoo shoo shoo!
My best friend Patti tries her best
to keep me close when others draw near
Some are fine ,some unkind
Though their hearts I win by and by.
I love to run faster than my legs can go
but to squirrels I'm still too slow
as for birds that come to feed
They set off my allergy by scattering seeds .
My heart is full of love for all
Never one to betray a friend
loyal to the very end
My name is Nero but I am not a hero
I am Patti's best friend, faithful to the end.......Woof !
Each week I sit in therapy
I aim to be a better me
So I tune out the therapist
And self psychoanalyze.
I think hmm, I might be mean
Am I self-absorbed?
A narcissist perhaps?
Or an a**hole in relapse?
Is it just anxiety?
I think I might have OCD
But I might just like to organize.
If I’m a good person do I win a prize?
I don’t believe in hell
Which is really just as well
Cause I don’t think I’m good enough
And purgatory would be rough.
Let me pick a part my brain
Am I genius or am I insane
I think this trauma’s from my mom
Mental gymnastics is much more fun!
If I can pinch and I can tweak
Fix all my problems by next week
Everything would all be great!
So let’s go in with scalpel
And a little bit of glue
And everything wrong with my brain
We’ll kindly undo.