Long Unbend Poems

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


Dog Star

Dog Star

The clarity with which youthful vision perceives the world
Is increasingly fogged by the successive days of life.
Simple magnanimity is replaced by complex reservation.
Knowledge is replaced by uncertainty.
Hope is replaced by the leaden awareness of the cold laws of chance, and of time’s passage,
By the degeneration of familiar forms,
By the merciless reaping of the best in human spirit:

Gazing upon the heavens and the deep stillness of those constant lights,
Searching course of purpose lack; unsettled certainty, brain benumbing.

Castor and Pollux, lucid pilot stars, begin to calm the fever of my blood,
Settling upon me a vision of a mystic green and silver thread that links existence round.

And yet, sadness when sylphs withdraw, and Ariel weeping for Belinda flies,
And Umbriel, a dusky melancholy sprite, as ever sullies the fair face of night...

Down to central earth, the realm of rocky truth.
Repairing to search the gloomy, yet whitely glowing, cave
Where, sharp-witted and dull-eyed, a god,
Ankle deep in sterile and lifeless mud,
Moved in a rhythm perfect to reason.

Yet delicately astray to hope; 
Separate from all the golden harmonies
Ordained by the measure of bowel and heart;
Machined cortex, sailing through gaunchious deeps, unimaginable heights,
Built step upon step; Cheops’ pyramid a fly speck by comparison.

Still unknown, unnoticed, the green and silver thread......

Unbend the substantial back, honest god!
Upward cant the neck!
Toil not; drink green and silver wine as the Dog star rules!
(The cricket sounds sweetly from the leaves and the jonquil blows softly.)
Cant the neck!  Observe….

Phantasm swimming in space,
Covered all over with visible power and beauty.
Green and silver interlaced, the whole its parts beminifies.
Endemion, Diana, and Pan ooze from mesh of mass and law as limpid condensements on cold granite:

Man’s lonely vigil, a warmth that lifts magic… creates,
Imbedding blue-green strands.

Reason fails; life begins!


Premium Member My Friend

You shelter me through tempest storms – indeed, you are my friend.

You never try to change my ways, instead you interblend;
I’m free with you and you with me, and neither will offend.

In spite of fashion's etiquette, your care does not depend
on ways I dress (or part my hair) - I’m not a passing trend,
and in my need you comfort me till twists and turns unbend.

We needn’t don thin masks of clay or otherwise pretend,
and when I sometimes act the fool you never condescend
but try instead to steep my views in eyes that comprehend.

At times I dwell within the depths, you smile and I ascend
to levels of tranquillity which others can’t transcend.

You never ask, demand or take, you give and understand,
and when I’m lost, a frantic child, you lead me by the hand
through castle gates in mirrored walls throughout a fairyland 
where fears and worries linger less than tracks in drifting sand.

With you my words are ever free, they trickle out unplanned,
and fearful feelings I possess you seize as contraband.

Your laughter flows upon my woes like waves on troubled strand
which leave behind within their wake a calm and peaceful land.

Not everyone is pleased, I’m told, that you and I are friends.
The world outside... they envy us... that you and I are friends.
We dare defy the green-eyed storm... for you and I are friends.
Form: Rhyme

Dear One

I gulp a flame of desire
At the sight of your ecclesiastical attire
Being proxy for a pacifier
That elicits a comfort for my quagmire

Your smile, your smile 
A sun in a darkened profile
A moon that illuminates the eventide. 
Oh lily of the while
You let your movement twist my writing style
And your utterances, parch my bile

Your cheek,
Comely and with a perfect sleek
It brings forth my devotion like to a holy week
My arteries gape and tweak... 
When your eyes greet my eyes in streak
And I feel your eyes can unbend an oblique

When you call my name,  l inhale peace
Right from the direction of your sheen anatomical masterpiece. 
It flows into my centrepiece
And makes me say "how I need this! " 

This aura of hightened affection
Induces my heart's rhythm section
My pulse beats to the sequence of your rock n' roll session
Your complexion, 
Makes me want to have no objection
To any of your imperfection
But to uphold your perfection

Your entirety is graced
Euphoric and grippingly fun-aced
Your pulchritude is emphatically embraced
And your probity, well showcased
Appeals to my aftertaste

Once have you spoken, twice have I heard
Like you stole the password
Securing my ghost word
From where I will fangle your byword
Please don't make it your watchword
Rather let us build on the foreword
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Casting of the Rope

The casting of the rope imbues me with the power to sail away,
It seems like such a final thing though I know I’ll return some day.
My love I leave behind, for he wouldn’t sail the deep blue sea.
His love of home and books, was greater than the love held for me.

I wish I could have stayed, but the sea my heart does truly call.
Waves, wind, and motion, will always hold me in their thrall.
The horizon beckons my name, with every waiting port of call.
While his nose is in his books, I will truly experience it all.

I will view the sites as only, living it can bring,
I will hear the sounds and smell the smells; life brings into being.
I will know the language of the dolphins and the power of the sea,
I will feel the mighty wind and the salt spray, as they come to me.

In each port I will savor the flavor of their foods, as I would savor him.
So why, oh why, will my true love not consent to be with me, in truth?
I laid my heart at his feet and bared all my soul as it is... But in the end,
He cast the ropes and my yearning heart free, he would not unbend.

So there he lingers in his home, while my heart and home are upon the sea. 
Why, oh why, would my true love… not consent to come with me?

Written 7-10-2011 Not Rewritten.

It's Tired of Spam I Am

It’s Tired of Spam I Am

By Elton Camp

And I’m not talking about the unhealthy treat
The one in a can that the taste is hard to beat

If I have to read another, I don’t know what to do
I am Mrs. Leech and God told me to contact you.

Another insists that I need his drug for sure 
For every known disease it is able to cure

Make money working at home I’ll tell you how
Just send the money I ask and do it right now

Buy your degree from our bogus diploma mill
Displaying it on your wall will give you a thrill

It is an American business partner that I need
So get back in touch with me in greatest speed

Buy your drugs from my great Canadian store
There is no reason why you should pay more 

Some cheap life insurance I will gladly sell
Even if you’re old and not feeling too well

Your profile my racy imagination did unbend
And my stats and sexy photos I want to send

Hello, friend, I sure hope that you are there
Because I want to buy your useless time share

In case you phallus isn’t quite large enough 
I want to sell you some of my amazing stuff

Surely there must be something that can be done
To put these lying online scamsters on the run
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member The Mysterious Path

When you pack a life, you pack a soul.
A tapestry of memories, tales untold.
Each cherished moment, tenderly whole,
To be packed away, a bittersweet bold.
 
When facing mental and literal grime.
To pack for an unknown trip on time. 
A dance with nostalgia, a delicate art,
To gather the fragments, piece by part.

There is a profound stillness in the room.
As blaze pictures and messages to consume. 
Stale, antique odors of books and art.
Floats across the air as the mind starts 

Each item holds a story, a chapter in time,
To be stated, akin to a tiny wrap, is sublime. 
Tokens of happiness and signs of pain,
The tangible remnants of a life's refrain.

The clock ticks softly, as memories unbend.
Through the hands that touch, stories trend.
Each object holds a piece of one's soul,
A window into a life, a world once whole.

The packing continues, a dance of reflection,
As the past and present merge in introspection.
Each item is carefully wrapped, with love and care,
Preserving the essence of a life's wear and tear.

 After the last item, a closure grips the room.
A silent trip ended, and a fresh era beckons to bloom.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Dreams of Innocence

Lost in stealth's memories evading time's awareness and penetrations from the speed of silence
Where hollow grounds open diverge
To the beginning of the subconscious rebirth
Where moments of monuments cherished will ever collide, rebind
Thoughts crescend, emotions diminuend
Performance of originality in motion while watching the speed of diffractions
Density of processes overwhelm the eruption of commotion
Places unbend, intervals vibrate, communicating the dynamic unison
Where space denies motion’s constant supplies
And the night interrupts them spliced with the joy of the morning
Instead bringing the feelings of spring's blossom, mountain dews and pure honey

While the nights now made to commemorate the fairy tales, stories, energies of territories
of yesteryears
That are never meant to return but told
Are now proceeding on the highlighted prisms obtained, reunited by the painting of the
stars and colors
Marking the continuous rebirth of innocence’s presence, remark…
Form:

Courage

Only certain people possess the strength to be great
Each and everyday you have to unbend what they tried
to break. You have to be very aware of what
is at stake so you fake your way through because 
you can't let a hint of the pain escape. 

It takes a day by day fight and sometimes 
the inner turmoil starts to boil to the surface.
When the doubts come about all you want to 
do is lay low and off the radar like a hidden 
criminal but everyone notices. They point you 
out and quickly collect the amount just so they
can step over you and make sure you never
amount to anything. 

It's when your beaten down that
it hurts the worse god isn't watching now
so that's when the devil lays his curse.
All the good fortune disperses and your so low
that your plastered to the ground like cement
It's after all the pain and the falling down that
you find yourself. It's after your been scarred
that the courage unfolds and lets itself be known.
Now you are whole.

I'M a Survivor

One step further
Two steps back
I’m going to hold my head up
And not show any lack
Yeah, I’m a survivor
And I finish what I start
And I am a very strong person
With a very big heart
I trust too easy
Always get hurt in the end
But I still manage
To let my heart unbend
I never had a childhood
Was put through hell every day
But if it wasn’t for my past
I wouldn’t be who I am today
My mom was an alcoholic
My dad was in jail
I guess having a bad childhood
Is one of the reasons I won’t let myself fail
But after all the obstacles I have been through
And everything I have had to face
I still manage to achieve
And put a smile on my face
I graduate this year
I get to walk across the stage
I can start my new adventure
And create a brand new page
I am proud of myself
For how far I have come
When all these people
Said it couldn’t be done
I am a survivor
And I finish what I start
So I have to figure out the next step
And follow my own heart

The Thief That Stole My Smile

He stared me frozen;
stiff as a board.
A long hard stare; 
a gawk, as frigid as hoarfrost.
A cold stare, as cruel as words.

Eyes know my father’s smile, 
as broad as imagination.
That stare, that I alone know, is an omen; 
a hunch to unbend my crooked ways.
What eyes and some ears don’t know,
buttocks know so well.

His blind and silent motto
is unknown beyond this roof. 
A neighbor heard the wailing 
and decide to intervene, 
‘cause eyes can’t rest
with all that vicious screaming.

This slogan echoes brutality, 
and confiscate my smile. 
And the restless neighbor hollered, 
“lickings won’t work!” 
And I believed him, 
until his son stole the farmer’s goat
then drown himself at sea.

Hard ears cause a painful tail – 
the motto always wins.
Soft skin burns for defiance’s sins.
Father’s conscience never speak to him,
‘cause he did it by the book.
“Don’t hold back the rod and spoil the child” 
is the thief that stole my smile.
Form:

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