Long Unstable Poems
Long Unstable Poems. Below are the most popular long Unstable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unstable poems by poem length and keyword.
I am not moving away.
I disobey the reflex to flee.
I stay where it still burns,
where emotions have not been laid off
in the name of artificial calm.
What you call a halt
is only a temporary freeze,
a chosen anesthesia
to stop feeling contradiction.
But the soul is not a switch—
it wears down when turned off too early.
Your wall is not protection,
it’s a neatly groomed capitulation.
It doesn’t shield your chained heart,
it teaches it to love its chains
by renaming them balance.
Everyone has their limits, you say.
Yes.
But some limits are renunciations
masquerading as wisdom.
Giving nothing anymore
is sometimes the surest way
to avoid the risk of being transformed.
Your new life begins
where nothing can reach you anymore.
Mine begins
where something insists.
Disappointment is not regret,
it’s a call that hasn’t yet found its voice.
Firmness without tenderness
is a skeleton without flesh.
I choose active fragility,
the kind that accepts being wounded
rather than being irreproachable.
You say: once upon a time.
I say: it is still possible.
Caring is not a madman’s cloak,
it’s a conscious risk,
a refusal to become unscathed.
You closed your door.
I open none.
I remain on the threshold,
that unstable place
where one can still choose
not to move away.
A stalled monsoon trough over central Nepal
caused continuous torrential heavy rainfall
Slopes pushed up moisture from the Bay of Bengal
The catastrophe was looming large to befall.
Sudden breach of a moraine dam
Triggered Glacial Lake outburst floods
A surge of water and debris devastates
downstream, catching communities off guard.
Landslides continued to collapse slopes,
forming temporary dams that later burst
Steep valleys amplified runoff swift and fast
Flood of fury of all time unleashed the worst.
A compound climate disaster of twin sciences
Meteorology and geology to decipher in depth
monsoon extremes, unstable glaciers, terrain hazards
Perished hundreds of lives and left many homeless.
Sparse sensors, lack of predictive models a curse
Warrant real time glacial monitoring at source
With closely spaced weather station networks
And cross border early warning systems
…….Narayan Gadagkar
My perfect imitation of a pilot in motion
cautiously pushing forward, paying attention
to all details is a trick of the virtual imagination...
using agile hands, as if they actually were two fluttering wings,
focusing with vigilant eyes looking straight at scurrying clouds:
as he swiftly travels to his set destination.
Peaceful is our Earth below,
four oceans, four continents
and thousands of small islands...
while acres of forests burn, and rivers follow
their irruptive course as humans do...
but suddenly all vanishes into the amazing blue!
What I discover beneath, no eyes would see,
what I hear around and above nobody can hear;
only angels surveilling can anticipate dangers
and warn us through meteorologists what's coming;
many ships have sunk into the unpredictable sea:
the tragedy of the Titanic followed others of lesser scale,
who is really safe on unstable ground or even in the turbulent air?
garbage dumped into our oceans: tomorrow will kill many a whale!
This voyage carefully planned won't be my last ever,
the shorter ones are considered to be less dangerous:
attentiveness is a must, not excluding a tragic crash so loud
due to weather, or to a mechanical failure; could I surrender
when chaos is real and the humming airplane changes sound?
Should I allow the aircraft to plunge into the surging waves?
My perfect imitation of a pilot
allows me to feel good: flying is practice, not art!
Then, is the furthest sky the limit of all adventures,
of all aspirations an explorer turns into realistic dreams?
Are there rewards for his part?
I thought to write about my High School Social Studies
book report. An uncomplicated short story about the
lives of two characters who like to take life the short and
easy way. I decided to write it as a narrative, showcasing
the simple characters as carefree drifters. Near the end,
the lives that they made easy, sadly turned complicated.
It's about George Milton and Lennie Small. The roaming
workers shared their dreams of being eventual farm
owners during the Depression Period. George was the
smaller and a bit learned of the two. Lennie was taller
and that made him oafish because of his limited wit.
Auburn, California, started their course across the state’s
harsh landscape from one ranch job to another. They
closed in on a job just outside the town of Soledad.
Stopping for a swim off the Salinas River, Lennie
gathered up delicate flowers. He is overwhelmed with
anything soft, fragile, and pretty. In his zealous nature,
he hugged it lovingly but much too tightly as they quickly
withered and died. George noted that oddity before, but
he thought it as being trifle to be of no concern. As they
prepared themselves before they arrived at the ranch, to
a slight degree, the witty George would be a money-saver
type, and Lennie's character with his notable oddity, is
simple-minded. Yet on their first day, Lennie strangled
Candy accidentally. She was the owner's son's pretty
wife. The rhetoric grew unstable for Lennie wherein
laid the guilt. George was forced to face some sort of
retribution with farmhands yakety-yak of a lynch mob
that would lead to a hanging. Left with that sad chapter,
George grabbed ahold of Lennie. At a secluded part
where no noise would be heard. George quickly closed
that chapter when he took out a pistol he found at the
farm and he shot Lennie as George fathomed money
to be his closing grace.
Well over a hundred years ago
The illustrious Vincent Willem Van Gogh
A genius somewhat like Michelangelo
With thousands of artworks in his cluttered studio
From the sublime to the grotesque for show
Might have been better off working as a gigolo
Because he died a pauper on skid row
In those days artists had no impresario
To make sure they lived high in a chateau
Dining on champagne and escargot
So it was quite a different scenario
That brilliant artists lived totally incognito
Often exchanging a painting for a meal on a patio
Or selling their wares door to door on tiptoe
Carrying under their arm their impressive portfolio
So it was for Vincent Willem Van Gogh
Misunderstood and suffering from vertigo
Mentally unstable and drinking heavily in Bordeaux
Depressed, impulsive and insane – a tragic combo
Cut off a piece of his ear, his sanity was touch and go
A troubled soul, life for him was a wild rodeo
Obsessive passion, far from living the status quo
His life and work intertwined shimmying like a yo-yo
Feeling the stranger, he shot himself overcome with sorrow
Post mortem everyone wanted to hear the myth of Van Gogh
With his vivid colors of burgundy, ochre and indigo
In his honor every year the orchestra features the oboe
And while the Italians chant magnifico
Everyone else cheers Bravo! Bravo!
How times have changed for poor Van Gogh
From a mere hundred years ago ~
Read on air by invitation ~ March 21, 2020 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 1st place 2026, 2nd place 2021, 3rd place 2025, 3rd place 2022, 3rd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on August 15, 2021 for YOUR BEST MONORHYME contest sponsored by WILLIAM KEKAULA - RANKED 1ST
The sky seems to be on fire these heavy days,
With questions driving peace from my shoulders.
My gaze flies towards you, fluttering from dreams,
With a strange smile you’ve never worn in our serene skies.
I descend back into memories, a realm woven from blissful flickers,
Shattering into echoes, into constructions of smoke and the tide of forgetting.
Was it a mask, the world's farce teetering on the abyss?
The poison imbibed, was it sweet and yet bitter in the same unstable moment?
May the stars be just in their nocturnal guidance,
And may the peace you sought now be your consort.
I forgot just how deeply shaded life is, stumbling, that some yearn for the evening darkness,
When death refused to carry your last goodbye, the final comfort.
In every corner of my poem, you become sacred space,
The pages with the books you gifted still hold a fragrance of your passing.
You are a part of me until my last breath trembles,
And you will be immortal in every line of my poetry, a speaking effigy.
For me, you shall remain, making chords eternally vibrate,
Like a melody without end, as you vowed under the silver moon.
And in the half-light that surrounds me, I hear you humming the promise of eternity,
Among the shadows weaving their dance, you are the light, melancholic and holy, wearing night's cloak.
Losing it... things don't mean .
Can't just make it fit.
Take a knife and make a slit... no... won't do it.
Time to get lit.
Trust it. Don't know yet.
it. Not literally, ...
don't know yet...
gotta stand my ground, unstable,
it's gone, can't be found,
my mind isn't able, not alone...
A storms coming, clouds inbound,
find the cable, tie down, no sound...
take a number, sit down,
it's too late, too soon?
The alarms went off but clouds were already circling... this storm turned into a hurricane
don't want to feel anything ...
get rid of it all just to numb the pain,
Can't fix my heart or my brain..
too late, already ingrained.
Make me feel insane
scream it silently
it's all in vain...
time to let go
and let the others take control before i fumble...
sitting backseat watching the waters rise and buildings crumble...
the game plan was botched who dropped the ball?
I'm giving in before I fall.
I'm becoming locked inside my head but maybe it's for the best...
let the others take a turn while I try to get some rest.
Can they tell it's not me?
I guess we will see... set them free...
so mote it be.
welcome myself
Self created madness
The reality of my life
Stuck on repeat
Challenges of a twisted mind
Overthinking the chaos surrounding me
How do I resolve the problem
So I can feel better day after day
Driven by loud shame
Living in guilt mixed beliefs
Stuck repeatedly
This challenging seat
Increasing mind begging
Please help me
Disturbed anger
Narcissistic self doubt
Furious rage
Unbalanced brain
Masked feelings
With a untrusting face
Gazing into my soul
Eyes wide open
Yearning the grave
Drowning in an ocean
With out absorbing my life
Reliving these days
Self defeat
Using self will
Resistance of God
Reaching out & turning away
My mind is made up
My bed is made
Unstable thoughts
Disconnected
Faith lost at sea
My will not of God
Existing only for me
Endlessly filled selfishly
Welcome to my shame
God help me
Written by
Jacob Lange 9/18/2025
You scoff at me from afar
As I zoom past you like a car
You are my shooting star
I’m bearing this ugly scar…
I have been laughing all night,
Cracking up jokes that don’t mean a thing
I have been being silly with might,
Packing up my giggles for later and everything
My belly is feeling like jelly,
Watching the naughty Telly
I’m sorrowful, yet sheltered comfortably
I’m awfully sorry I let you down frankly…
I’m extremely gleeful
Yet, emotionally unstable
I feel oh so beautiful
Yet, I get why I feel…unable…
To…breathe…
just leave.
must grieve.
At ease, at ease, at ease, so please
Don’t be a tease and shoot the breeze
To be honest, I want to die happy with you tonight benevolently
I want to tranquilize myself with your tranquility weapons
To be frank, you’ll thank me later when we make love enjoyably
Oh, you son of a gun, haven’t you had the fun time of your life, but I’m having fun tons
I’m chaotically screaming silently
As you sing joyously…just wonderful!
I’m practically dying here like a wilted tree
As you sing gleefully…how delightful…
You crack me up though
So who gives a hell what you say to me nowadays
You back me up, you know,
Although it rings a bell that you sing precious praise
To the Lord of
Accord and love
I’m in the clouds…
I’m proud I’m not in the shrouds
Cultures of vultures surround me now
Somehow, I’ll take a vivacious vow
That I will enliven you when you die in my arms
I will not do you harm and gracefully give you cheery charms
That mean a lot to me…
Just let me be happy,
Laughing foolishly forevermore
It’s better than this sorrow that apparently you adore
Funny…
I forgot to laugh
Punny —
On your behalf,
It’s ironic
That you love me so
It’s so pathetic
You now see me glow?
I’m a mere shadow,
Once a reflection of the sun
Reap what you sow
So I can show everyone that you’re a shady, sketchy son of a devilish, frivolous fun…
Why do I feel depressed of late?
Is it something disagreeable I ate?
Is it the feeling of the underdog?
Or the feeling of a broken cog?
Or is it just the climacteric
Which makes my mind and body sick?
The feeling is undefinable
Makes my actions quite unstable.
Have a tendency to snap and shout
And throw, unwontedly, my weight about.
My views have become quite cynical,
Life’s become quite clinical.
“Things will happen as ordained,
Fatalism has got to be ingrained!”
But however rational I try to be
Just can’t accept “Divine Decree.”
And if things don’t move as I want
Am bound to continue to rave and rant.
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