Long Unclench Poems
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Dinner was over an hour ago
Counters wiped clean, dishes are washed and dried
I hold my glass up to the light like a color slide,
and see the world, warped, and blurred through the half glass of rosy wine
It makes everything seem clearer, somehow, and sobers my mind
From our long silhouettes, we sit on the lawn, and gaze to the mountains,
talking quietly, and sipping the pink charodonnay
Dark of the shade seems to drink up the light of day
Summer carols being sung by two mourning doves,
are accompanied by a choir of crickets in the dewy grass
calling for reverence in honor of a dying sun
Soft voices are lifted in still air
The pink light seems to paralyze time.
We have found kindness here,
and somehow the grueling trials of the year
seem smaller than they did yesterday
Now the day turns toward the darkness
and we have rid our taste of the dry and bitter dust
of everything that has been said and done
The north wind shakes the trees
and the last leaf that clung so fast and tight
releases its grip, and disappears into the dusk
We shall never need to see where it lands
for we are forbidden strangers to the dark
Let us remain friends with the light
Let us unclench our old resistance
And after we have finished the last drop of wine
we will turn, and go inside
and thank our stars
for the pungent taste
that yet lingers
on our tongues
in case
we might
need
proof
that some years will harvest a bitter taste....
and
some
years
will
harvest
a
crop
blessed
by
the
sun
_____________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Referential"
reference: Chris Aechtner's Poem: unclench fists
Let’s be honest, I’m not that honest.
Be honest,
Just this once.
Forget all the dilutions of grandeur,
The noise.
Eat it so hard in the teeth that your mouth has a voice.
Unclench your tongue just long enough to choke on your words…
Then swallow your words,
They were never your word.
Just like it was never a case of, “she isn’t the other half of me”. Rational thoughts of that nature that tried to tie emotion to logic were as implausible as the idea that I had any idea in the first place.
It’s a philosophy contingent on empirically knowing that even the most limited of vocabularies can stutter words, reliant on misspelled synonyms that do more justice to a mind clumsy-drunk on love than any perfectionists wet dream of punctuation ever would.
It’s supposed to be messy.
Nights of trying to read the label on prescriptions through empty bottles gave self-induced illiteracy a formal introduction to Benzodiazepines.
See, attempts at dreams of you leave me isolated with feelings of resentment and distain in times of consciousness for nothing more than a lack of sleep.
Insomnia,
A new form of self-deprivation,
A therapy of sorts.
Wearing my “oh so apparent” membership card of bloodshot eyes and shaky hands with pride I’ve developed pipe dreams of time spent with the pillow in a utopia of…you.
I called you Benzo.
The irony is, the only provocation of panic that can get my mind racing fast enough to keep stride with the heart palpitations induced by you saying some other guy’s name is when you say mine.
The type of sickness I only experience when my mind decides to throw out the jury.
Anti-climactic, like her not being home when you knock on the door ready to recite a speech you wrote to explain how words aren’t enough anymore.
Standing there pledging allegiance to silence because the color of words has and always will be too dull to complete our portrait of perfection.
You keep your smiles guarded, with reason. All the more reason that I know I earned every last one, and the last one I got made me realize sometimes you got to burn it to the ground at a moment’s notice.
A flat line to a punch line, silence drowned out the noise…
"Wedding of a Wench"
a joyous celebration promised arrived on lacy invitation
bring only your smile as a gift to offer congratulations
but my cousin, Marlene, was known as a troublemaker all her life
now so hard to imagine she'd make any man a good wife.
more out of curiosity my honey and I opted to go
after many years of disfunction change makes people grow
nothing could have prepared me for the show 'twas 'bout to see
there is a lid for every pot and fun is always free.
the rough flight to Las Vegas was bumpy and too long
spent all my time with eyes closed tight chanting the wedding song
as the plane landed I tried to unclench my fist
wondering which magic potion she used to snare a sharp dentist.
the trip to the chapel 'neath bright lights of Sin City
my high heels hurt my toes as I thought of words witty
recognized Uncles and Aunts who had now grown old
though the temps reached 100 my body froze cold.
we exchanged hugs and kisses then escorted to our bench
waiting for sweet music and entrance of wicked wench
she wore a red suit with her flaming red hair
with white shoes, blouse and hat looked like Santa Claus affair.
the groom, short and bald, wore a green laurel wreath
to cover his head with red tie underneath
his bermuda shorts were all plaid and too big
where oh where was the champagne, I needed a swig.
instead of gold rings they had tattooed pop art
with matching leg logos "till death do us part"
I was laughing so loud I thought I would die
waved a speedy hello and a hasty goodbye.
now what does one say to a couple's freak show?
no words came to mind that seemed quite apropos
I just gave them my business card once they were sober
as a wedding gift come see me for a duo cousin makeover.
*For Joann Grisetti's My Cousin's Wedding Contest.
I gather you haven't heard?
What happened to the young girl with hopes and dreams?
She died along with puberty
But in her room above the highest floor
She will sit and wait... in silence
To hear the breaking of her heart
I gather you haven't heard?
The sniffling of tears racing down her mountains
Trespassing into shady land held by anger
She will ball her fist only to unclench remorse
Her knuckles will be white for a few
Deepening back into red
I gather you haven't heard?
How they called her names
The same name she would never utter to them
Each letter of each word eviscerated her
Disemboweled her hope to nothing
And once again streaming on her mountains
I gather you haven't heard?
What it's like to be me?
How many times have I counted goodbye, she said
But that will be all she will say
Her tongue is too dry with salt
I gather you haven't heard?
The trumpets that called her home
They sounded best played by Gabriel
God took his hand and scooped her up
She held out hers and gave him her life
Whispered sorry, and trembled to peace
I gather you haven't heard?
The way God folded her body into a flower
Within it endless petals
She will be called the Giving Rose
With thorns adorn with diamonds
And Emerald's for leaves
I gather you haven't heard?
How no matter the brashness of the season
There the Giving Flower waits for one to pluck her
Before they can touch they are terrified of her thorns
The Giving Flower will once again be lonely and beautiful another life
I gather you haven't heard?
The wailing of the wind drying The Giving Roses dew
God said... "Watch your life for it will be ticking delirium
The seconds are your biggest enemy and so turn the minutes"
The Giving Rose bowed her head and led another tragedy as life
Human
Sometimes, there are days
That seem bleak,
oppressive, cloudy and grey,
When you don’t know why you are here
And can’t even seem to find a reason,
To stay.
The dazzling bouquet of flowers
You once held in your arms
Have turned to ashes and dust.
And all that’s left,
Is just
To reset the alarm
And do the best you can -
Or do what you must.
And if you can’t open your heart,
Unclench your fists
And open your hands,
Though your trust
Was lost long ago
And you feel too tired,
To even to make a plan.
Sometimes all that’s left
Is to do what you must,
And do what you can,
Sweep the floor, gather the dust,
Wash your hands,
Carefully make your bed
Wash the dishes and then
Clean the kids room
Again
Buy eggs, beans and toast
Again
Because they’re coming
At ten.
You feverishly search
For a cigarette
But remember you promised
To give up
Again.
So finally you decide
And take your umbrella
And go outside,
But your strayed eyes
Are blurred with tears
And famished heart,
So smothered with fears,
You don’t see
The lush green of the park
And the pink blossoming tree.
Or the man the you used love
Waiting,
So silent and patiently.
And even though
You don’t have another Lover,
You are still not free.
And although you miss
The warmth and safety of his arms
And gentle way he kissed,
Even he,
Couldn’t repair your trust,
And so you go back
To your protective walls
And do what you can
And do what you must.
© Sangeet Portals 2022 – Updated 2023
If my head wasn't filled with thoughts of revenge
I'd be able to unclench my fist and open my hand, to take God's in mine
Leading me out of the darkness
Stepping foot in his everlasting garden
Planting seeds of forgiveness for my enemies
So that by rainfall, I will be nourished and bud with new perspective
Washing away will be my pain and suffering
I'll be praying for my enemies
By morning sunlight
The ideas of vengeance, my sins
Will evaporate
I will ascend and be uplifted
Holding onto angers hand
Is like befriending the Devil
To not be in contact with God or your soul
Only to be entranced in the thought of sinning
Our lives are not guaranteed
We could all die at any second
I will leave this earth in peace
To join my fellow brethren
Not plotting revenge, only praying that those who have harmed me
Will reconcile with us in heaven
Forgiveness for our enemies
Is a courageous and powerful act for a person to do
So don't waste life's precious seconds cursing others
When you could be using that time to pray for you
Pray your heart can let go of those wrong doings
Pray your debtors will someday see the light
Pray eventually they can plant seeds of their own
And take God's hand to be led out of the darkness
When my life is taken, by then it won't be for granted
I will be strong, my ego I will have overcome
Even if it's with my dying breath, I will have the love to rise above
I'll be down on my knees
To God I will be
Praying for my enemies
I drown in my sorrows
At all times
They seem to
Consume me
I wish there was a way
To defeat them
To turn them off
But they continue to
Flow out of me
Rushing like a
Waterfall
Never ending
I hate when I get like
This but I don’t
Seem to do a
damn thing about it
I continue to
drown
It’s going to wear
Me down
& age me I fear
Erode away
From the
Suffering and pain
Grief has become
My name
I no longer look
The same
The tears have melted
Away what was
Left of my face
My green eyes
Now red
Swollen from
The past
That wont
Unclench my
Brain
New grooves
Were made
But not in
A good way
How long will they
Stay?
My face discolored
From the pain
that has
stained my face
Will my frown
Forever stay this way?
How did it get this way?
When did life change
And become so grey?
Storm clouds from day to
Day
When was the last time
It was clear
And the sun on my face?
Hope ran through my viens
I looked forward to see the
Next day
Pricked by needles on the
day to day
florescent lights instead of
natural sunlight
my home became a cage
that no one would answer
to screams of pain
blood freezing in my veins
so they can’t
get what they need
from my veins
oh! When will the
pain end! When can I ride
my bike until the
sun kisses the earth
everyday
just play play play
but instead I lay lay lay
screaming in pain
while I watch
everyone my age
go outside to play
when the sun comes up
and until it slowly fades
away
"It is neither wealth nor splendor; but tranquility and occupation which give you happiness". By Thomas Jefferson
A place where the zeal of my heart dwells
The appeal of a simple life, as lucid tale tells,
within a framework of some tranquility.
Slower flow and less agony ooze credibility.
A sulfurous fury emanated from the darkness.
Nostrils flared with a fiery, acrid harshness
Roaring voices mutilate the uttermost peace
It is impossible to tango with a noxious piece.
My chest heaves, and my lips unclench in a sigh.
Release suffocating lighting with the word "supply."
I'm blessed in my peace, and that lets me smile
embroidered with power and dominance style.
To admit a stroll when I could spare some time
In a casual way down an uphill road, sublime,
I absorb it all in whilst I walk through the forest
Each idyllic scene unfolds for an hour of rest.
Where I'd stay is beside an almond tree,
Its gentle breeze murmurs as it hugs me
where I'd quietly sit by the windowpane
holding a mug while glancing at the rain.
A place to catch the firefly's graceful elegance
Relax amid a velvety starry sky for your dance,
A little peace and quiet amid life's frenetic pace
So my soul is punter attuned, full of helpful solace.
Written: April 13, 2023
1st place contest winner
Writing Challenge - 'T' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Bury your guns deep in the sands of time
Break your daggers in half and leave them behind
Unclench you fist and loose your stare of hate
Live in love today before tomorrow comes to late
Masquerade the truth to hide your inner lie
Masquerade your soul and surely you will die
Masquerade freedom and war will increase
Masquerade your cause and live in peace
Masquerade your fear or fall upon your lance
Masquerade the fight and give the world a chance
Disarm your bombs before they suddenly kill
Rip up your message of malice that you daily quill
Douse the fires that you start and burn
Cross the lines of war sign the treaty to overturn
Masquerade the truth to hide your inner lie
Masquerade your soul and surely you will die
Masquerade freedom and war will increase
Masquerade your cause and live in peace
Masquerade your fear or fall upon your lance
Masquerade the fight and give the world a chance
Sheath your sword before your heart turns cold
Break down your divided walls and simply grow old
Sink your ships and swim to your homes shore
Return to a clear young mind like we all had before
Masquerade the truth to hide your inner lie
Masquerade your soul and surely you will die
Masquerade freedom and war will increase
Masquerade your cause and live in peace
Masquerade your fear or fall upon your lance
Masquerade the fight and give the world a chance
Unrestrained passion is like a wild conflagration; it devours everything, even itself, in the end.
At the end of it all, you will sit down and shudder, surrounded by the ashes of your greed, the shadows of your avarice, with your hands outstretched, begging for peace, longing for comfort. Forlorn, you will join the ashes; embittered, you will sink into despair, for the treasure that you sought after, day and night, was in your grasp all this time. Yet, now that you unclench your fists, and flail your arms in a paroxysm of frustration, it flies away, a white dove of purity. Why did you reject me, her fluttering voice sings, why did you tear off my wings and refuse my proffered comfort? Alas! her voice, painfully dulcet, which causes the very sky to clench its heart and twinge in soulful suffering, cries. Alas! Eternally fester, seethe, laid low! Be taught the lesson of unbounded regret and learn the humility of solitude. Be haunted by an apparition of misfortune, a ghoul of torment. Forget the meaning of satiation, the feeling of happiness, the sound of joy! May the companionship of Hell and Hades be your only solace. Let this be so, til you lie broken and weary, at midnight, in the Valley of Death. And then, and only then, shall my lips grace your grime-filled face, and you will know the truth.