Long Uneasily Poems
Long Uneasily Poems. Below are the most popular long Uneasily by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Uneasily poems by poem length and keyword.
King Arthurian of legend
St George
St Patrick
Mary Magdalene
To the Da Vinci Code
My toilet
My drug use
I remember i could read
I was a trainspoter
A night prisoner
I wrote during the war of the roses
Of the kings last stand
On B roads
Dedicated to marching knights
For weapons and edges
Set up camp for the night
Uneasily at sleep
I lie
I tragic at dawn
Tragic
Deadly
A 100 of thousand men
Seek Excalibur
To formation a round table
Unto which barge
Into a Dickensian future
The King is dead
Loose ends
Bury me in the Abbey
Imagination
These are my early poems, or juvenilia...
alien
by michael r. burch
there are mornings in england
when, riddled with light,
the Blueberries gleam at us—
plump, sweet and fragrant.
but i am so small ...
what do i know
of the ways of the Daffodils?
“beware of the Nettles!”
we go laughing and singing,
but somehow, i, ...
i know i am lost. i do not belong
to this Earth or its Songs.
Easter, in Jerusalem
by Michael R. Burch
The streets are hushed from fervent song,
for strange lights fill the sky tonight.
A slow mist creeps
up and down the streets
and a star has vanished that once burned bright.
Oh Bethlehem, Bethlehem,
who tends your flocks tonight?
"Feed my sheep,"
"Feed my sheep,"
a Shepherd calls
through the markets and the cattle stalls,
but a fiery sentinel has passed from sight.
Golgotha shudders uneasily,
then wearily settles to sleep again,
and I wonder how they dream
who beat him till he screamed,
"Father, forgive them!"
Ah Nazareth, Nazareth,
now sunken deep into dark sleep,
do you heed His plea
as demons flee,
"Feed my sheep,"
"Feed my sheep . . ."
The temple trembles violently,
a veil lies ripped in two,
and a good man lies
on a mountainside
whose heart was shattered too.
Galilee, oh Galilee,
do your waters pulse and froth?
"Feed my sheep,"
"Feed my sheep,"
the waters creep
to form a starlit cross.
I wrote this poem around age 15-16.
and yet i am singing ...
the sun—so mild;
my cheeks are like roses;
my skin—so fair.
i spent a long time there
before i realized: They have no faces,
no bodies, no voices.
i was always alone.
and yet i keep singing:
the words will come
if only i hear.
I believe I wrote "alien" around age 19 as a college freshman or sophomore.
Keywords/Tags: early, juvenilia, juvenile, college, school, child, childhood, class, youth, write, writing, voice,
"The X Factor"
hunger does strange things
to souls running on empty
last stop, full to the brim
a journey unravelling
ravenous poetry sings
other broken hearts in
how much do words mean?
how much do they sting?
Inside wants out in everything
in everything,
we believe,
we stir uneasily to let in
life hides inside stories
lost hidden gems live somewhere
buried in all the dirt deep deep beneath
above magnetises
cloud busting
some souls reign miraculously
outside of the assizes
more telling than tears
lets the light
shatter feeble faux in
gleaming
victorious
mesmerising
something unknown
it's completely foreign
something sincere
in time to be made clear
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Saara Aalto - Chandelier (Audition)
https://youtu.be/LH7qh4XWEgw
https://ourcriminalancestors.org/assizes/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Scarlet_Letter
I saw her lovely face in the window daily While I was going to the college swiftly After seeing the beautiful moon lively
My hero cycle had become k a bike really.
Reached the college campus very quickly. But I was not able to forget the angel suddenly. I tried to read the English textbook simply The flower blossomed in the page only.
I waited for the college over impatiently. I took the cycle and rode it immediately. The bird perched in the same place patiently. It saw me and waved it's wings speedily
Had seen the star only one time a day seriously There was no chance to see the comet again easily The girl was in the dreams and everything lovely. I never forgot that particular day uneasily.
It was November fourteen,children's day humbly When I came near her house slowly My dream doll stood there silently
She was only a little lamb closely
And not a matured mare definitely The sweet box gave me a chocolate box wholly. My life long dreams were shattered highly. Like the last scene of Mckenna's gold film fully.
The varnish cracks and peels away,
and little eruptions from below the surface
suppurates before us the underlying truth:
An animal awaits...nine meals from anarchy.
Deadlier than any other living thing,
prepared to kill anyone,
even its own kind.
No other creature sets a lower bar.
Surely the wonder of Nature never foresaw this.
Linguistic casualties:
integrity; heroism; courage; sacrifice and love,
for such things sit uneasily with weaponry.
The words of a leader
reverberate in our minds:
"God is on our side:
the enemy is the lowest form of life,
its armaments and behaviour
horrendous in the extreme."
Yet he desires more from his own productions lines
and urges his people to a glorious
victory.
Dignity, goodness, sensitivity,
and empathy,
the basic decency of many human beings,
nine meals from anarchy,
and 'Mental Cases'.
Easy prey.
So does even the shame, the regret,
that searing, the scarred memories;
the tears, the guilt, and the fear,
fall upon the consciences of the good?
To suffer the rest of your life,
an innocent.
Euphemisms, and stirring myths, and lies,
encircle the globe,
like mental fall-out,
nine meals from anarchy.
The protective layers of pretence and language,
unfold and peeled back,
until,
naked,
everyone is enemy?
Twenty-twenty, why didn't you abide
by centuries-old rules required to exist?
Why was it prudent to run and then hide;
protocol, you felt, was there to resist
Painfully we hid and Earth hung her head,
as Covid invaded, flaunting with flair.
Breath came uneasily, many were dead;
no place to hide, fear was filling the air.
A terrible legacy your year leaves,
standing with famine, flu, polio's fears.
We shook ourselves from depression and grief,
buried our loved ones, dried most of our tears.
So, Twenty-One, what good news do you say?
Can we, at last, turn that chapter's sad page,
come out of hiding to sunshine and play?
Wait--Delta is shouting, "I want the stage!"
Move over, climate, our allies won't mind.
Refugees, craziness, anti-vax scam,
egotism, lies, hate everywhere we find
I'm beginning to see why Twenty ran.
Dark thunderclouds hover uneasily
over the red mesas and arroyos.
I can feel the tingling sensation of
charged air, an unnatural quiet
as the thick, humid air seems to
catch its breath, anticipating.
Suddenly the landscape is overwhelmed
by electric white veins of lightening
that flash and spread like roots
shooting down towards the desert floor.
Urgent rumblings reverberate
under my feet as I anticipate
the loud claps of thunder to follow.
Large, beaded raindrops, lukewarm
begin to drop steadily onto the dry
dusty terrain, marking the sandy soil
causing plants to rise up like
excited exclamation points.
I savor the moment, relishing
in the wonder of nature's drama
admiring the intense power I see
feeling reinvigorated and renewed
in body, mind, soul and spirit.
Written on 8/10/2016
What will it take to keep Humans alive,
I am traumatized watching CNN,
Stomach queezy,feeling uneasily numb,
It is now time to help Palestine out ,
Let’s make Earth a beautiful place to live .
Humans have to opt for probity ,no jive,
Americans are upset by the Machine,
They are losing the American dream ,
It is sad it can make a crazy dude scream,
What will it take to keep Humans alive.
Isreal third most hated State once again ,
How does that make you feel about your status?
The States are in the third place.,
How will America liberate us?
I am traumatized watching CNN.
Capitalism destroys Nerthus-you scum,
Following pols blindly makes me want to puke,
Congress how can you applaud mass murderer?
My statement about pols is a true rebuke,
Stomach queezy,feeling uneasily numb.
Palestine is a burning house. I shout,
Diplomacy is a water moccasin,
Is there an Isreal cease fire in sight,
Israel behaviour surely a sin,
It is now time to help Palestine out .
Hope is field of stars .This thought helps us thrive.
Trama gone. Humans chose Utopia ,
Radical mycology good for earth,
We now have a true cornucopia,
Let’s make Earth a beautiful place to live
Mona Lisa’s crooked smile
on a half-crushed Campbell’s Soup can
Joe Dimaggio reciting his pronouns uneasily
then lowering his batting hand
into a scalding hot cup
of ‘Mr. Coffee’
Where have you gone, Mrs. Robinson?
Where else? to the bathroom
~ Hemorrhoids again
Barney Fife whittling Andy’s image to
sawdust with a rusty pocket-knife
-- contracting tetanus in the process
Andy Warhol grinning madly as the
word ‘culture’ is finally eliminated
from America’s lexicon
~ All hail to pink, plastic flamingoes! ~
It looks so sweet,a pity it wasn't sung
Is there hope for what future may hold?
For faces I had thought we're gay
I saw were lined with care
Life unbelievably was clear
And vividly was clear
My lord,where shall I place my bribe?
Then society cheats itself
Billions lost publicly
Big brains lynched
Commoners suffer the wrath of the mighty
Failure justified
What kind of times are these?
The drought and the hunger
Shocking levels of unemployment
Flooded homes, flooded homes for 56 years?
Turbulence in quarantine centres
Others opting for death
The primeval beast devouring us
Turning dreams into nightmares
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the years
It matters not how straight the gate
In the fell clutch of circumstances
My head is bloody but unbowed
The night has been long
The morning I look through your anguish
Clap hands,let's leave the preening
And stop impostering our own history
They cursed our intrusion of peace and the sun's
Intrusion of his shade
Colonial judges
Cobras uneasily lying side by side
Left to roam and bite again
No narrow fancy
Full fifty six years of exile
It has never been so profound
Solitude have I to endure?
And that's the way it should be!