Long Tweaked Poems

Long Tweaked Poems. Below are the most popular long Tweaked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tweaked poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Tweaked

I dove boldly in to my psychosis
this gave me a kind of leverage
a tiny fragment of sanity
shiny bevel of edginess to my personality
so vulnerable, derelict, unloved
my resolution, a thought will blossom
explode in to this dark world
kill all the demons that ride on people’s backs
I see them clinging to people 
I see them feeding on people 
I see them, in the sinkhole
that ugly beautiful place, I visit sometimes
delusion or illusion
too scary, we need more love and kindness in the world
I’m swimming back to the top now

Entry to Eight word challenge poetry competition
Written 08.06.2019
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann


Premium Member The Pathless Path

“Like the silence that screams, cursing solitude
Whispers of faith sing patiently with our prayers”
Oh hermit! Stand firm, in stoic fortitude

As the throb of bliss within rises higher
Childlike essence of presence, flows in delight
Joyous in the play, knowing God as doer

Solitude now welcome; light in heart is bright
Prayerful surrender is our meditation 
Ensconced in bliss we so remain, day and night

Timeless time with grace, softens our attention
Thought rested awareness, becomes manifest
In void of silence, we enter cessation

As outer world fades; equal are trough and crest
The false soon falls away, so we cease to sway
There is no ego resident, to resist 

Hermit! Save burning yearning, there is no way
Let the lamp of loving heart, be our mainstay

11-January-2021

(11-syllable Terza Rima)

Written for ‘Heart Universes’ poetry contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Using the opening two lines* (*slightly tweaked for syllable count) from her poem ‘Heart Universes’

Premium Member Martha Graham, a Maverick

HANDMAIDEN OF MOON DANCING



fly me to stars in the thrill of one swan night
over a crescent arc to feel a flame of sighs,
teasing dreams so silent yet ever wild
and like a neon light, speak through your feet ,
your ribs twirling in drips of summer’s rage : throw
away the restraint  of confined  movements  
dictated by a body unmoved; of a flower 
keeping her flutters from crawling freely on grass

give me a sway through leaps unto ocean’s swell
without need for thought or reason, rather,
lift the flesh made from love or hate, to burst
with primitive heat; fingers  liquid in motion unbidden
by a sacred place that doesn’t exist on earth,  when
all  but the fragrance of a naked skin expresses
the very force that writhes in the faint of depth,
licking the cells inside out.. weightless, bold, soft

dance  the crazy dance with me just because
such passion needs to flow along rhythms
burning within… till a weave of spin breaks 
into  a trance blending a wanton glide with
pirouetting flights raw in some meadow  clearing,
pious pose under  the tangerine of touch…

handmaiden of moonlight dancing on flames
pluck those eyes ,rise above mortal remains.



©


*i tweaked this free verse with a sonnet’s volta 
in the last two lines (10 syl rhyme count instead
 of the usual 8 syl pattern)

----------

*Martha Graham is the pioneer of modern dance. As a ballet dancer 
and choreographer, she introduced inner movement emphasizing
emotion, spontaneity, and  an exploration of psycho-social themes
( feminism, political protest, and labor unrest)through free -flow
of innovative steps, thwarting cultural control over conventional, 
metered dance. Her last performance on-stage was in 1970,
at the age of 76; she was working on the choreography for the Olympics
when she died in 1991 at the age of 97. 

Graham was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1976
by President Gerald Ford and cited by Time Magazine as
"Dancer of the Century" in 1988, aside from her other accolades.

*Source: Wikipedia.com and www.voanews.com

*Please watch 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUoMc5Am_c0&feature=related



‘    ‘’’’’          ‘’’’

For Cyndi Mac Millan’s Maverick by nette onclaud

Premium Member The Perfect Circle

Nothing was tweaked when life's circle was formed
You would see speck of dark gem, microscopic, perfect!
This dark became chameleon
All voices hushed, as marriage vows were spoken
Never mind the veil, the mask, the caste
We were of sun, moon, and stardust, until
Blinding lights stalked night for more of day
Animals, too, fell prey; the God of clay blasphemed
But each morn, bold shades on earth were birth and blessed
The third child; I heard tooting of horns from two plus two

Nothing was flawed, except circle of light in mines so bright
It dared to vie, yet trembled right before the Source, electrifying it
Few forms played the Source; some stood in awe, as gentle spec
Do I care some lights reveal too much themselves?
Some will spy and vie; and deny fading to black, from whence they came
I am hidden in the dark, never knowing everything
but layers we wear, like dermis shield...  
Our fragile lives return to ash
Limbs, dreams, roots; all gets trashed
But the perfect circle holds eternal fuel, for boundless spirits.

*

Up Late

-Inspired by my temporary English instructor, Mr. Phinizy 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Evening had diminished to night; how very quickly did She fly
It is funny how quickly time passes, as if our brains tweak the clocks of life
The night was of moderate warmth, and my house suffered terribly still
And with the stifling heat inside, many hot questions filtered through my mind
I asked myself, Where did the summer go? Why must our suns die?
Why is it sweltering in September? Why has sudden anger blown her aside?
I really need some sleep, thought I, looking at my face through the murky glass
Tracing dark circles under my eyes, I was reminded of sagging Death longing to ensnare me
Yes, Death followed me that night, dwelling upon me, boiling away the autumn breeze
As I looked into my sleep-deprived eyes, I knew Death waited for my ultimate slumber, 
When all commemoration of time, that flew so rapidly before, suddenly just…stops.
With many a sigh, I turned on the faucet, soaking my hands in the cool, flowing water
I needed some relief from the heat…I needed a refreshing new idea, I needed cleansing
Anything to clear my mind of the negativity daring to break me every day of my life
For such depressing thoughts spewed forth like a wild river, the rapids racking my brain
But these waters were not living; they were dead and hot like blue blazes of hell 
I turned off the faucet, for there was no Balm on this earth to sooth this soul
There was no clock on this earth tweaked enough to return me to earth
The warm breezes, the sickly pale cast of many thoughts had driven Her away
And though the everlasting sleep of Death sounded soothing, the Balm does not assuage me…
It only burns forever, in obstinate constancy; angered to the core,
That night stuck in this fractured rhyme of time, I was up late…too late
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Merlin the Magic Cat

Merlin indeed was a magical cat
With long flowing robes and a pointy blue hat.
He came into town on a Harley one day
With a gleam in his eye and the look of a stray.
His head, shiny bald, but his face full of hair;
A few weeks’ provisions seemed to be lodged there.
He rolled that big hog right into the park
And lit a small fire to hold back the dark.
Then he opened a saddlebag, got his guitar,
Leaned back on that bike, and hummed a few bars.
The old girl had slipped; she wasn’t immune,
So he tweaked a few pegs, and he got her in tune.
With a voice that was old when the world was still young,
He sang to the stars in a strange, wondrous tongue. 
It seemed like the mountains responded in kind,
A rumbling, purring sound, vaguely feline. 
You’d have sworn the ground opened, because just like that,
Old Merlin was surrounded by a chorus of cats.
They joined to the purring and matched pitch somehow,
A deep-throated rumble, not a cry or “meow”. 
Now you’ll think I’m repeating a tale told by wives,
But all of these cats had lost all of their lives.
As he called out their names in a voice clear and strong,
They floated off skyward in the strength of that song.
It seemed time stood still out there under the dome,
But he played, and he played, and he sent each cat home.
When the last one had disappeared out in the stars,
His voice drifted off, he put up his guitar,
Got back on his bike and left just like that;
Merlin indeed was a magical cat.

----------

for the Merlin the Magic Cat Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
written on 09/25/22
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Thought Is Born

A thought is born inside delays
  To feel its way around, no sound
And does not germinate for days
  Its time best spent under the ground

At first it's probed, and then it's tweaked
  Its worthiness must be assured
Its qualities need be unique
  If impact's to fore'er endure

One morn it greets the light of day
  Its message radiating bright
Lips' elocution smooths the way
  To bathe it in pristinest light

So delicate the path to pave
  Too many thoughts die in their grave

          

            March 29, 2021
       ~ Iambic Tetrameter ~
 ALL YOURS (Mar. 31) Poetry Contest
         Sponsor: Brian Strand
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member pretend it's a poem

as chopsticks for soup 
like a monkey eating scotch bonnets
you have to want it 
 
good luck is a myth
thin as a Theban cookie 
as your skin if you don't get it
 
checked-off triggers in academia
fired as a porcelain finger up
kilned in an undertone of glazing
 
grace is a saying and a Name
tweaked as an ego or a jacket
potato is a hashing at 3 a.m. 
 
iHopper lingering is a tension
getting to the hearth of it
another homer hit past time's fence
 
foe knocking at your big teeth in front
like a door to your cheeks 
puffed with a nut-angle oblique 
 
playing a game of mother elephant
a recess abbreviated by a bad pronunciation
intonation of inspiration at the bell
 
wrung and swung along a well-tread trail
as dirty as a thurible

Penned.In.Mission

A Rhyme come now at this Great Time,
Known to all from long ago as a dream,
Premonitions were named as screams
and the Vision was failed to reveal.The Reel...
has turned and Reality burns a new Light.
It's called laugh a little and grow some sight.

The balancing of an Elemental.Penned a
Mission so simple.... Euclid.eUs.ly ridiculous
as a Matter of factual and it was so theoretical
to be taken toooo scientifically serious, but it was.
Grab it see, said Real.activity it's just as in.sane
as the insanity of this poetry, but....

"Euclid's axioms seemed so intuitively obvious..."
they said while my head exploded into sum
gravitationally upside down formation of my
eyes which made me realize that it's all just a
pycho.delicately. bright trip anyway...

So I turned the page and read the comics.instead.
Now, had they said it was Lucid.Reticuli.ously ridiculous...
Perhaps even lick smackin' deliciously.kissable.ish...
I might'a believed it. But language is just relative anyway.

Duck Dodgers now there's a true explorer of the Mind
with his flat feet ninja warrior lisping beak of a tweaked
out brain. Yes, that Cat was in the sane for sure and
when he and his side.kick would make sushi? Well,
that's when the Universe just had to step up and take
sum notice. Penned.in.a.Mission a duck billed notion
of Motion in a vacuum... seriously, who's driving
us back from this expedition?



lol!! I hope you enjoy the ride, I think we're lost....


===========

And this is dedicated to my friend who made
me curious to look up Euclidean Geometry. ;)

I accepted your challenge Jedi.Master.WordCrafter...
and now here I yam. lol. with my spinage.
I thank you for the inspiration. Grand Qi.baca
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member Nature Fulcrum Sight

Light and shade are vital to life's beauty, charm, and richness. By Poet.


sun 
sunshine 
dawn to dusk 
nature supplies 
vivacious hues clash 
cumulonimbus cloud
sprouts expanse toward the sun
every day, it swells keen and vast 
as crocus sprouts muzzle widespread breeze 
in stark peacefulness through the strides of verve
Melted gold gleams in the thoughts of moonbeams.
As light wanes, faint stars tackle to glow.
they shimmer like zillions of studs
while embedded to sunbeams
Scudding blue-purple swarms.
soar through azure sky.
gazed birch leaf buds
and clean grass
spring's rays
warmth. 
scour
the bliss
tweaked and deep
blue fades to mauve 
humped at hearts of stem 
stream heavenly keenness
as waterway of sheer praise
sequent the path of least toughness
same as a flower's smell loads the air
linked to bode love, uttering lease to flow 

Written: February 15, 2022

1st place contest winner 

E Forms- Etheree - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Etheree

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