Long Unrealised Poems
Long Unrealised Poems. Below are the most popular long Unrealised by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unrealised poems by poem length and keyword.
I have been alone for the longest time I can remember
I thought I knew everything there was
Until I realise the price to be alone forever
The price where only questions you have answers cause
Most everyone is alone for the wrong reasons
Alike people being together for the thoughtless insinuation
Everyone will walk a one day path to be broken
And no one can ever mend that perfected separation?
We need to be destroyed to find a whole
We need to die from to live again
We need to be nothing to begin whole
We need to have everything… deprive… remain
And without words… that someone will tell you who you are
Opposing or agreeing… reminding or distancing
Simply…we are just anyone to everybody oh so far
Yet unrealised for the everyones we need for our selfless nothings
Do you ever remember being alone?
At a point truest when we have someone
Without someone, do you remember being your own?
Have you the answer? less we forever run
Having chosen to feel contrast
Is it not strange that we feel aghast
Immersed in this dual realm of limitation
Imagining as real, our life on earth play station
Deluded, in vain we attempt to enhance the status
Of our decaying feeble organic form apparatus
With senses externalised, everything is sized
No wonder then, God remains unrealised
The truth is simple, we need to look within
Silencing thought flow din is the way to begin
Head and heart gentled and with love in alignment
We embark in earnest upon our God search assignment
Nothing is needed dear soul, save our burning yearning
Bliss magnetism soon has nodes within us churning
Polarities meld in heart resulting in bliss ignition
We thus obtain directly our true erudition
30-March-2023
It is not a complicated story.
It is not a secret story.
It is just a long story about love and duty,
pain and suffering,
Resentment and unforgivenesss.
It is a story about abuse and commitment.
And this one does not end happy.
It ends in sadness.
There are pockets of happiness.
Fleeting moments of hope.
There is the promise of freedom
And many missed opportunities.
Years of self preservation in hope of returning to a promised land,
Where an unrealised life of simple perfection awaits.
There is mercy in its ending.
A sick twist of kindness as death brings release.
A hint of finished work; an end to a Godly sacrifice no longer required or mercy after paid dues. Silence and mystery rob its readers’ of clarity.
Its truth resembles cloud,
dissipating and untouchable by mankind.
There is evil at work.
A disrupted balance where good never sees a scene.
There are demons at play.
A disrupted balance where angels never feature in an Act.
Captors are worshipped and victims are judged and unforgiven.
The sin of pride and self-righteousness prevails, as history goes on to repeat itself.
The story teaches that distance does not mend broken hearts.
Pleading does not encourage understanding.
Hope without action is futile.
Sorries are currency, and its users are miserly.
Sorry is never spent.
Sorry was never earned.
Sorry should never have a price.
So, Sorry remained unpaid. Sorry was bargained for, no deal was ever made.
"The Chain Letters Road Trip"
Freedom Fall 8
removed
her Ray Bans
The Light
was blinding
on the other side
dark tunnels
lead to highways
unrealised
goin’ gangsta
driven
to distraction
hell bent along the
Road to the Lotus Eaters
at Loon Junction
chain letters
flying in the breeze
let loose
out the driver’s side
window,
to the past
like bugs
sticking
to other’s windshields
behind the wheel
terror forming
smiles
one hand steering
the other
retrieves
her android,
voice
activating
Mojo
dials
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” / Pomplamoose
https://youtu.be/z3IGoniElrE
"The Dilettante Diaries: Goin' Gangsta on the Road to The Lotus Eaters at Loon Junction"
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_dilettante_diaries_goin_gangsta_on_the_road_to_the_lotus_eaters_at_loon_junction_1059240
I'm a very impatient guy
I'm squeezing this little ball
It really makes me mad
My middle name is period, last name T
I'm a full-time bodyguard
Secretarial work is out
I look from this to the potential
Inventory of unrealised dreams
Intelligent mining
Intelligent transportation
The energy internet
Flexible electronics
Intelligent vehicle technology
Classical music with Johnny Greenwood
Canadian studies
Ric Flair's biography
We watch the international football
My Chinese brother-in-law
Gets excited when England's opposition
Have a chance to score
What's that about
I'm
Squeezing
This little ball
I have been touched
Impressed, by you
Have emotions spoken over my logic?
Harsh in tone and impulsive in decision
Never have I known this much confusion
Of matters of the heart,
Let my mind speak before my heart,
Otherwise my eyes will cry before my heart sings
You held my heart above me
Until I rose to meet it
But you are not touched by me
You cannot love me.
Yet you understand how to love me
This love cannot love me
Where is my old ball and chain?
Yours, used up and rusty by she before me
Rusted in memory of times been and gone
My ball oiled in present and future
And nothing but a chain that threatens the unrealised and the futile
The hints of a halting journey lurked,
The withering tree was dying within...
Every passing breeze had its spirits siphoned
Stood massive with its monarchal gait,
For decades it served the passers-by
But who could escape the clutches of fate??
When hope to survive slowly dimmed
It thought of that single bud yet to bloom
Wilting at the roots, its grip had failed
That last single unopened bud soft and blue
So curious to bloom and witness the world...
A long life's journey yet to tread, in store
A melancholy stirred this gigantic tree
Intuition had made its call, it was sure to die
Dripping dew failed to mask its tears n' let all to see
Our life 's like this withered tree, birth n' death inevitable
The buds are symbols of unrealised dreams,
wanting to nurture and act upon to make them possible
Just like this tree's struggle to save the bud till it rolls as corpse
We need to nurture our dreams like this tree n' pearl - oyster
Bud into flower n' pearls as they mature ,serve several purpose
Similarly our dreams be filled with causes useful n' better!
...oooOOO Tears of Gold OOOooo...
Prickling hot glistening tears from the eyes above
Fall in little rivulets round the nose out of pain, thoughts or love
Hot tears roll down the cheeks cooling as they fall
Salty on the lips they pass they don’t stall.
Tears of pain, tears for the dead, tears for the dying
Tears for the newborns the weddings and tears for the sighing.
Tears that roll onto the bared chest with arms open wide
Giving comfort and strength as they try to stem the tide
Tears for the fears unrealised but real
Tears for those lost or that’s how they feel
Tears that flow for those we have not met
They need our tears but they will not know it and yet
They may feel our tears shed for them all
Tears shed out of pity or love they can fall
Tears for the free who think they are not worth it
Tears for the captives that do not deserve it
My tears are falling without knowing why
But the tears that are golden never run dry
They run for the love of all human kind
Wishing and hoping the deserving will find
Some one to bare their chest for them all
And comfort them as their own tears do fall.