Long Unevenly Poems
Long Unevenly Poems. Below are the most popular long Unevenly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unevenly poems by poem length and keyword.
Writer Block
______________________________
I scratch the surface,
my nails drag against the edge of the pen
my thoughts shift in perpetual motions
I feel the distractions around me uneasy
my fingertips start to burn and ache
my mind buzzes in confusion
I close my eyes and feel the invisible blood run from my fingertips
I start to lose grasp, of the pen that floats unevenly in my hand
the sounds of doors opening and closing rupture my attention
BUT THEN...
a BURST.REALITY
"CLICK," says the pen
and the invisible blood runs back into my cold fleshy hands
eyes open wider than ever before
glue-like fingers now cling to the ballpoint
and words fall on the page like teardrops
I can feel the winds shift and creative juices flowing
I hate days like these
Writer's block sucks!
Date:7/15/15
Jessica Thompson
Form:
you crawled from the bottom
of tomorrow withered beneath
my feet the smell of forgotten
earth arose bountiful cruelty
emerged my mind craved awful
goodness standing before me
a hidden figure moving behind
the darkness legs unevenly bent
backwards standing there with
broken blood stained wings a tear
as hard as tar remained on your
cheek who are you why are you
here filled with dreary contempt
faintness shyness bestowed such
a tyrant entity taunting me with
childlike eyes beckoning my mothers
instinct to nurture this creature of
darkness my mind said don't do not
covenant nor comfort the muses of
norse ravenlike energy look away and
yet the dry warm breeze gathered
from your heavy breathing seated
in a mystic garden sprouting inside
my bedroom Odin standing over me
i whisper you must please go now
you're not supposed to be here
knowing full well tomorrow is near
I stand naked by the mirror
Looking at myself
I look like ummm
Something off a dusty shelf
My ribs stick out
You could play them like a harp
And my eyes bulge out my head
Like a half squeezed Chihuahua pup
My legs they call them lucky
They like two fighting swords
I have the knack of amusing people
With them I even won awards
Now my wife is a total contrast
She’s short, fat and round
It takes me three hours to spread the fake tan
But she still comes out unevenly browned
Just the other day I thought
She threw the duvet over me
But when I opened one eye
I saw it was a crusty bikini
I love to watch her dressing
It makes me shake at the knees
I feel like grabbing a handful of ripples
And give them a gentle squeeze
Driving the car is a challenge
Her ripples stop me changing the gear
And when we walk down the street
We look like a shield with a skinny spear
But to her I’m her half finished pepperoni
To me she’s my fluffy bread bun
We always do things together
I’m telling you, we have so much fun
And now I would like to announce
The arrival of baby number seven
We may seem like the oddest couple
But it’s a match made in heaven.
5/3/17
The world getting hungrier
Times getting uglier
And bloodier
Compared to animals, have people always been nuttier?
Needs growing
And greed showing
Far from easy going
Regardless of what you read and are knowing
Better keep going
Above and underneath the counter
The pursuit of power
Each and every second, minute and hour
Resources being sought out and devoured
Has it always been this way
Who is to say?
At a high frequency
Since the beginning so much secrecy
And not nearly enough decency
As the scales often tipped unevenly
Continually tilting
Near or far, above within and below any building
Who cares if it was thrilling
Too much senseless killing
It's beyond bone chilling
By: Dalton Ogletree
In the course of social evolution,
selective and complex, the skewed customs
placed men in the lead, women behind,
for they are deemed the weaker gender,
born unequal in the nonpartisan world
under the blue sky of freedom for everyone,
to obey and to follow, subjugated.
As the dark clouds of imposed illiteracy
and obdurate poverty drift slowly away,
the sun of aspiration shines equally
with the dormant dreams for everybody,
and as the archaic social norms
crumble in the egalitarian cauldron,
women see the gleam of emancipation
at the enlightened end of the ancient tunnel.
It’s time for the tenets of human right
to redesign the frayed social fabric.
Let not the gender variance divide unevenly
the opportunities and obligations.
The captive womenhood would then
be free to reach where men are,
breaking the contrived glass ceiling.
Crunchy golden brown potatoes
Cut unevenly into strips sticks
One maybe half, one and two inches long
Best eaten after freshly fried
So thus us, creations of God
Unequal to wit, might and talents
Yet, daily equip in battle of growing
Not on failing but succeeding
The fries eaten plain or flavored
So is man simple and favored
The fries a fine finger food
So is man by nature is born good
Either served on plate or pouch
Us humans ready to serve and touch
Sometimes bitten bit or whole
Us humans molded clever or fool
by: olive_eloi
10:07am
01/19/2014
------------------»»»»
Over a labyrinth of dust
carved by cockroaches scampering away
at the faintest sign of company,
waning light is unevenly cast
by an old crackled glass window.
Limp and age-stained curtains
tint green the yellowish rays
where they haven’t been eaten through
by moths which flutter unwittingly
along an old crackled glass window.
The sullen mood satisfies the bees
which hum, as they go to-and-fro,
some sulking tune void of melody
which reverberates nicely
off an old crackled glass window.
There is no living recollection
not even among spiders
peering wistfully about
who have long-adorned in cobweb
that old crackled glass window.
Yet recorded in detail
black and white on the wall
hanging skewed from a nail
is an old family portrait
taken under a clear glass window.
07/18/15
Read aloud -a Hilda Morley tribute to an organic poet
gestures of merit
light in letters
with fluttering words
simplicity
of impulse
twixt art &art
white silence
shape emotions
with
power of the image
in
the inner
state of mind
oozing unevenly
seething
constellations of perception
random
splinters of sound
roadways of
thought
out
of everywhere
sequenced elipsis
visual blanks
on
a spatial pitch
in
spiritual breaths
minimal linear
flows&
stopped
by streams&visions
bruise-blue
cloud shapes
rouse anger
&exhileration
in
the absence of constraint
belonging nowhere
looking
touching
longing
wishing
choices scattered
blunted
by helplessness
uprooted
crumpled in small tokens
shaken
crushed
fallen shapes
abandoned
upwards
sideways
in silent
unshapen
shadows-
the unspoken
essence of knowledge
&
sounds remembered
Just a crack in the ground,
a pavement laid unevenly,
But let her tell it the world has failed her.
She is the sun so bright and
warm never expecting anything in return,
gives to all without prejudice,
never once worrying
about her own energy–she trips.
.
.
.
Just for a second
she wonders,
Why couldn't the world show
her the same kindness?
This morning, like any other
in this town, sun never fully rises.
Clouds spread out in the sky unevenly
like butter on untoasted bread.
In haze, town wakes up slowly,
rub its eyes, then blink hard three times
—in its irises light sporadic lights.
A sign of life, fresh day—
for its tiny people, at least.
Town has no use for tomorrow.
Even awake it’s quiet, the wind
carries hushed whispers around.
Would you like some milk with that?
Not for secrecy.
Town has no use for secrecy,
but silence keeps the town balanced.
On every red roof there’s a
red chimney, but no smoke
—gray offends blue as sorrow offends love.
No cars—people walk earthen roads
to other people, slow.
Town has no use for efficiency.
They stroll through carpets of primroses,
tall grass tickles their calves.
They lie down, and between greens
you can barely see, their bare skin.
No beauty is pursued here.
Town has no use for beauty.
Gently, the night visits again,
and people crawl into warm dreams
—a world beyond theirs, maybe.
Lights off in the town’s eyes
for the night, but no one minds.
Mists sneak through windows in disguise,
reach into minds through breaths.
Inhale, erase.
Exhale, reset.
The sun never fully sets, or rises—
Town has no use for tomorrow,
hence in town, it never will be tomorrow.