Long Unease Poems
Long Unease Poems. Below are the most popular long Unease by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unease poems by poem length and keyword.
Do we choose silence
not only as a tool
for self-protection
when speaking
our latest chapter stories
feels unsafe?
But also stern silence
may become a weapon
to ward off apathetic enemies
of our straight
hopelessly white
monotheistic
monopolistic
patriarchal capitalist
enemies
Who would not seem to care
to love us
more than we ourselves
can love them
as part of us
right now
left multiculturally
and ecofeminist
silenced here.
As you go
and liberally grow silent,
I may quietly
then traumatically
hear,
as isolating time
sticks ominously by,
"I am not your constant un-masked friend,"
and, thereby,
an ominous self-fulfilling prophecy
emergently erupts
in punishing response,
"I cannot remain
your therapeutic good-times,
vaccinated against silent unease,
healthy
co-empathic musing friend,"
To trust when skies grow silently dark
and night descends
beyond despair
to safely share
stressed Trauma
Itself first felt ray
of restoring justice promise
despite this loss of salvific
passioned hope.
Prosperity losses steal
from future compassion
already while first silenced weapons
dream denying
relentless truths of suffering
lack of healthy opportunity
to speak our fears
out loud
with those who trust
our trembling tears.
In my foolish young adult years,
three good men came along,
but their eyes brimmed with tears.
God must of sent them,
offering me love's redemption.
Not realizing they were gifts to me,
like mystic trains sent away to
wend on another journey.
The summer moon's love bathes me
in her eternal silvered glow,
upon my bed dreaming of happiness
I let go.
I do long for youth again,
to say I'm sorry for wounding them.
Was I rejecting love or myself,
placing their hearts on a shelf.
Forgive me, please,
as I age with unease.
Three good men with souls of gold,
I hope with wives who cherish them
as they grow old. ~
I took up bicycling because I couldn't run
At best it provided scenery and fun.
A sense of achievement cresting the hill
The fun of swooping like an eagle on the kill.
First lesson learned: if you happen to be slow,
Old ladies on recumbents aren’t your ego’s foe.
If you carry a reputation bubble, someone will pierce the skin:
Better to be yourself; it’s not a race to win.
I cycled with a group, into an old town in the West
We left our bikes unlocked, the place seemed safe and blest.
Then the best bike disappeared, a thief had a new ride
We chipped in to buy a new one, as the owner cried.
I took a wrong turn one time, as the group continued on:
I went up a mountain road, by a golden sun.
Something seemed wrong and a feeling of unease grew:
Then the sign at the summit was a final clue.
I learned to stop and check the map; that time is wisely spent.
Why lose a silver dollar when you could lose a cent?
Turning back from sunk costs is sometimes the way to go.
I reached camp by sunset, sore from head to toe.
I told a cousin about cycling, it seemed insane to him
Just turning wheels, till the empty mind goes dim.
I told a cliche of freedom, but the point he couldn't see.
His Ford Mustang could get him faster from point A to point B.
I learned when I was tired, danger flashed code red:
Cutting corners is easy, and easy can mean dead.
A pleasant ride can turn suddenly to pain,
A bright auspicious morning to a night of freezing rain.
A fellow told me of a ride his high school friends once took
They reached the Montauk end, no need for a guidebook
Them took the ferry to New London, let the pedals rip.
Now they're in their sixties, but they still talk about that trip.
There's a shrinking world of places safe to go
Too many cars, too much crime, and ideology overflow.
But for now, it can be a pleasant way to spend some time
The open air, the open road, on your shoulders the sunshine.
We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls
Yet men have died in places that appal
Women too and children then unborn
Fell into cold dark earth in lands forlorn
As our weapons grow, our hearts are hard
The people live in Gaza behind bars
The water all polluted as taps drip
Is this war or is it vengeance fit?
In Britain, it’s the poor who lose the war
As it was when Jesus Mary bore
Yet here are clerics blessing marching bands
A military show for all the land
The genocide in Europe of the Jews
The self destructive actions of the proud
The fields of France filled sick with blood and bone
Who are we to cast judgemental stones?
The War’s not over when the fighting stops
The soldiers and the tortured suffer shock
The widows and the parents all bereaved.
The unborn children hover in unease
We let the prisoners out from camps of death
But who would take them in or take their path?
The injuries will travel down the years
As still we fight and still we live in fear
It’s Europe’s grasp and greed which was the cause
Of death in Gaza, Syria, in long wars
Yet we judge we are more civilised
As we self defend with careful lies
Calcium carbonate, crystalline complexion composed
Smooth surface, size, shape, color, and luster superimposed
Born from marine oysters, through bacterial resistance
Rancor becomes miraculously pristine radiance.
Loyalty, honesty, integrity, and purity
Soft yet solid, there's, in it, an inner serenity.
Does it not depict me—a person, friend, and confidant?
With thought, word, feeling, wisdom, and behavior concordant
I am a pearl with calmness within. There's no restless storm.
My unease is quenched. Tranquility has become the norm.
Pearly optimism has paved way for poetic vision.
Revision of mundane beings has become my mission.
I turned ten two days ago,
I blew out the candles with a heavy sigh.
You were born today,
Still.
Your lips inherited
The reddest hue of cardinal feathers,
Your rice paper skin
Pale and soft, fresh as silken snow.
I never knew what your eyes looked like
They never opened
Infinite iris colors
Never to be discovered
When I held you in my arms,
The guiding hand of God
drifted away
I gave the coldest of shoulders I suppose.
I looked outside the hospital window,
A frigid breeze made
The trees sway with unease
But all the leaves stayed in place.
A confetti of dust drifted
In the air conditioned hospital room
And time yet stood still
On my brother's only birthday.
Truth or dare? Truth ...
I came of age when I was twelve, (Janie, sixteen),
In one of the most amazing summers of my life, 1970 ...
Oh, I was much-and-far too young, and it confused me so.
Life was intensely more difficult after that, in many ways,
And I stumbled through puberty in painful fits -
Episodes of passionate unease and awkward humiliation.
Thus, a great deal of time passed before it all became evident ... real,
Before a tender and patient spirit led me to apperception,
And the exquisite joy of sharing myself in the deepest way ...
Before that fear and fluster was changed to warmth and covenant,
By a blossoming soul who decided I was worth her patience and care ...
A sweet, adept girl who saw my genuine intent as malleable desire.
The seventies were undeniably the most difficult years of my life,
But also the most intoxicating ... the most rewarding and wonderful!
For the chaos and turmoil and struggles of those teen years,
Were the fires that burned away the chaff of innocence and naivete' -
The hammer that pounded raw emotion into capability,
And brought forth the mettle ... from the wee lad.
For its value in course and occasion, that decade was, indeed ... my treasure.
* SECOND PLACE in the "Where Were You In the Seventies?" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Sponsor. *
Can I return to you? Oh, can I please?
Only you, Darling, make me feel alive.
My heart keeps yearning. I feel such unease
In this new place. All I do is survive!
Nothing compares to what I had with you.
Great loneliness encompasses my soul.
By my side, Dear, do you want to be too?
A year has passed, and I cannot feel whole.
Crazy! I was crazy to ever leave.
Keeping sane is hard. My mind’s careening.
Heaven is you with me. That I believe!
Of home and your caresses I’m dreaming.
My love, please say you also long for me.
Endless love I pledge! With you I’ll soon be.
Feb. 23, 2021
for John Hamilton's Coming Back Home Poetry Contest
My Love In The Folds Of Mountain
Dr Ranjit Dutta
In the realm
where mountains loom,
With folds of
Secrets and sorrows,
There lies a love
That brightly blooms,
Beyond the
Reach of dark tomorrows.
Beyond the peaks
That pierce the sky,
With rugged majesty renowned,
Two hearts entwined,
No question why,
For our love knows
No earthly bound.
Through
The valleys deep and treacherous,
With obstacles
It may be strewn,
Our love
Persists, forever thus,
Guided by a celestial tune.
With whispers
Carried by the breeze,
Our longing echoes
Through the pines,
The mountains know
Our hearts' unease,
Yet they can't suppress
Love's brightest shines.
Each passing season
Our love remains,
Unfading as the glaciers grand,
Through snowstorms fierce,
and harsh terrains,
Our souls united,
Hand in hand.
The mountain folds
May try to hide,
But cannot mute
The love we claim,
For our spirits, forever tied,
In a love that
Kindles a lasting flame.
So let the miles and peaks divide,
Our love prevails beyond the crest,
With fervor stronger than the tide.
In valleys deep or summits high,
Across the world
our love unfolds,
For even mountains can't deny,
The power of a love that transcends the cold.
Please take a read
Your greed is making our nation bleed
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
Your hunger and your love for World Power
Is causing men to murder and steal
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
You need to focus and read
About all things that's causing people pockets to empty and bleed
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
It's time you take heed
People are learning how to read
False promises are causing individuals to be unease
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
The British Nation was not only built by the rich and Kings
The Peasant and the lowly labored all day through
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
How disappointed you look as you stand at a distance
Awaiting and Searching for that day
That Hope and Faith will cuddle you too
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings a country no more
Your lies and greed,hunger for POWER has corrupted and destroyed
A nation that was once EMPOWERED by Great Wealth
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
I jealous you no more
Your greed and love for power has now made you very unsure
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
Your petals have withered and your stems bare thorns
Your leaders now wear Horns
Oh, England a kingdom that was once built for kings
No man can archive, strive or stand on his own
Maybe it's time you make JESUS your place of home.