Long Unsympathetic Poems
Long Unsympathetic Poems. Below are the most popular long Unsympathetic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unsympathetic poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh, if I could quickly bare witness to God's perfect hand in life renew.
Oh, if I now could bare witness to his wondrous seasonal debut.
Oh if spring would come and release my body from the frigid fingers of winter.
The touch of it is not tender.
Let not my stiff joints bark and weep no more.
I called to God and said, Holy Father I am miserable to the core.
I am spent with the deathly view of winter.
Oh, if I could bare witness again the wide white blooms of magnolia, the bursting bulbs of the cherry blossom, and all their splendor.
With God's loving healing grace and the sight of them, I will gladly surrender.
I am in despair of this shivering brumal blast.
My heart grows anxious for the unsympathetic brittleness of winter to pass.
Oh, let my wanting eyes settle on the flowing James River.
Let the array of hungry geese do thither.
Oh, if I could dance on fields of tulips and daffodils.
Oh, if my fever mind could make the spring season to appear at will.
I would walk barefooted on the cool green grass that is freed from the rich Virginia soil.
I would let the cool spring breeze wrap around my body like it was plastic foil.
I would sit on my porch and wait for the return of the cardinal to come back and retrieve his wooden bungalow on the thick crooked limb of the old oak tree.
I would be comforted by the sight of him and his songs of love to a great degree.
I would bathe my aged body in the sunshine.
I would sing of God's glorious divine.
The circadian rhythms of my brain set aflame memories of a past affair.
They were hot and steamy memories of hot and steamy moments that I would not openly declare.
If only spring were here it would satiate my soul.
It would obliterate this disabling toll.
January 27, 2023
inspired by the musical composition of Summer of 42, composed by Michel Legrand and Andr'e Hossein.
Endlessly searching for what’s unknown,
Hoping someday, I will see my home,
Will I ever get the memo?
How will I know?
Or did it already happen,
A few moments ago?
Magical moments are shattered,
By an unsympathetic world, I can’t see,
Where the only thing that is important is the show,
But, it’s in a hiding place I can’t go,
Could I find solace?
A few days ago.
Missed hopes and dreams is what my life is all about,
Leaving me introspective in a wordless world,
As my karmic destiny seems to ebb and flow,
I wonder if I missed the boat,
A few years ago.
A cacophonous symphony of anxiety,
Leaving an imprint on my memory,
Was it simply a fantasy?
A lifetime ago.
Through layers of snow,
White blankets, the world
Peaceful and quiet, still as grief – abiding
I stay hidden, secreted in the darkness,
Buried beneath the dust, the mud, the earth
Where life awaits the springlike touch
From sunshine’s blessing, rich and glorious
Awakening the music of a heart’s mystery
Soothing, like stardust – so gentle,
Light covers my grave, so somber
Earnest and peaceful, I lay quietly, waiting
For the miracle of a moment when sunlight
Breathes its wisdom through my veins,
Inviting me to rise through the soil, the richest
Clay, trembling with compassion, caressing
Away the frost, cold, so unsympathetic – bitter
Like resentment who fills the heart with
Doubts, distant thunders, storms in skies so blue
They feel like beautiful guiding me through
The reckless rest where I’ve been dormant, forgotten
By the twinkling stars, the sunrise and sunset
Never aware that I was even there – alive,
Hidden by the winter freeze, with ease
But, now – as spring silences the silver flakes,
There, hesitating within the earth, my tender leaves
Begin to peek, peering up toward the sunshine
Graceful and lulling, like the glimmering glories
Discovered in the new buds, stirring, emerging – soundless
On a quest for the light, the rain sprinkling through
The night, erasing winter’s touch with a growing
Promise – the assurance of a thriving blossom, a bloom
Who develops just as the heart begins to beat
With eagerness for the beginnings of spring,
Growing – springing from the darkness, resurrected
Great joy comes from the knowing, the hope
That revives the spirit, the feelings
In those who see that I have made it, once again,
Through the silent nights and the snow blanketing
On a land, sleeping through the winter’s smile,
Waiting quietly for the proper time to rise
From the earth, - new birth of a bud, a gentle
Wish peeking out from the past, prompting the spirit
To listen to the whisper of God’s tender gift to us,
Those who know that, despite our deepest wishes –
In time, in season – there is birthed a splendor
In spring, that splendor – that pretty comes from me
The bulb who waits, patient, beneath the ground
Where there is the promise that, in time, there will come
A beautiful flower who will brighten hearts like the sound…
Laughing in the breeze – a flower, free to breath!
Summoning power, courage
To wage against torrents
Those unsympathetic to my cause
My faith
At times shaky and rhetorical
Bleeds through the cracks of despair
The porous granite of frustration
Breathing, injecting life
Where only desolation savors
Permanence and ownership
Stronger men
Have been whittled to rare pulp
Weaker men
Have given up at the earliest signs
Of misty dawns
I must be either
Blindly unrealistic
Pried from sanity's bosom
Or severely convinced
Of my abilities, zeal and destiny
That reason only knows one course
Through the poisonous thorns
Fecal malfeasance
Explosive diversity
And culpable agony
Arriving at
Surviving for
My own brand of glory.
(5/13/09)
Quite often I got unsympathetic looks
and angry remarks for saying the wrong words,
but meaning no harm I started a bloody battle...
be careful when talking with someone who seems too rational!
I can apologize and restore that friendship with incessant tears,
but will it be accepted or harshly rejected as when they looked away?
Some are appeased or forgiving when we crawl on bruised knees...
if that's what it takes to be excused or forgiven: what kind of friends are they?
Retreading words already spoken could not be helpful if the offender pleads;
it's kind of late to go back in time and change that unfortunate incident,
how up-lifting it would be for friends to say, " You didn't really mean that! "
Folks who rush to judgement should reflect on this and not be impervious to pleas.
Have you said the wrong words to a relative, neighbor co-worker or friend?
Are you worried that those words have ruined what you held dear?
Great relationships can be easily broken and never mended...
and before you say the wrong words: speak diligently and make yourself clear.
You bury your only dog beneath a home of desecrated poppies.
Pup frozen from years of neglect, full of ignorance and stained of regret.
You claw at the dirt like one of the far-gone soldiers, and the earth knows better but to serve you.
You lay his body down Heavy, limp and soundless.
His wide eyes the color of heartbreak and broken promises, his coarse fur kissed by the signs of war.
You wear the same marks, you have the same saintless past,
But your fate is not the same.
War was your mother; she taught you learn once, not twice. She taught you dogs die and you were reborn by your own hand, born with thorns for skin and poison in your breath.
Dog and Human,
Killed and killer,
One was inhuman the other was a self-created monster.
There is a fear on the dog's face that you can only dream of. Pure light consumed by the darkness. a child of war, taken by a river of blood and the fear that led to his death.
And you wish you had the humanity to grieve.
At dawn, when I wake my world is a winter wonderland
blustery, gusty winds are blowing pure white snow into drifts
cold, chilling and icy is the air in this lifeless world beyond my window
down, deeper under my fuzzy blanket I sink
even my kitty does not take a peak, but
finally, we did get out of bed . . .
getting a cup of coffee I gaze at my frozen view
hopping on the window sill kitty tries to catch a snowflake clinging
inside is so nice and cozy warm . . .
just thinking of going out makes me shudder
kissing me, kitty jumps down and runs away
labyrinth paths in the park are buried deep
magnificent, regal and sublime the trees have donned their white gowns
nature knows how to create a landscape beautiful . . .
over there, yonder is my car beneath that lump of white
painfully, I realize that I am going to have to go out there into the cold
questioning my sanity I put on my winter gear
ready- I look like I am going on an Arctic expedition
snow, pure white, heavy and blowing waits beyond my doorway
trembling, I leave the safety of the house . . .
unsympathetic, kitty watches from her warm window sill with a meow
violent, a cruel wind almost blows me over, but, oh so
whimsical the snowflakes dance fanciful all about . . .
Xquisite is my view-
yes, winter can be cruel and nasty but so magical too, yet I hate these
zephyr wild snow storms . . .
________________________
February 9, 2020
Poetry/Abecedarian/A Blustery Cold Day
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1224-398-09
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Abecedarian
sponsor, Caren Krutsinger, NA, Judged 03/03/20
Submitted to the Standard contest, Best N-A Poems 2020
sponsor, John Hamilton, Judged 01/16/2021
Second Place
Writing deeply and avidly
is another way of coping,
if seeing that not-so-pleasant reality;
and feeling the presence of truth,
encourages one to reveal oneself
and being true to all words:
perfectly thought out, not hesitant to burst out...
Many write for profit,
modifying their sentiment,
to make it fit into the demanding times,
so that cunning stories can pay off
without considering whom they hurt;
I am very polite when I express myself,
discerning what is worthwhile telling or not...
Will I strike it rich and be lauded
for my work, which strays from the required trend?
Fortune may make me happy...never complete;
my role is not to act out sheer vanity, but to implement
the importance of greatness
that awaits me after my death...
And with pen and intellect, my ideas
flow on paper delighting my readers
who are continuously amazed by its insight!
I can be hostile, bitter,sad, infuriated, unsympathetic, happy or kind,
but these emotions have stirred those who proceeded me;
to get their message across: for the sake of Humanity....
copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
gods-book.com
What makes a person cold?
What makes a person heartless?
What makes a person hate?
What makes a person ruthless?
What makes a person unsympathetic?
What makes a person inhumane?
What makes a person uncompassionate?
What makes a person insane?
What makes a person vicious?
What makes a person unkind?
What makes a person savage?
What makes a person blind?
What makes a person merciless?
What makes a person cruel?
What makes a person brutal?
What makes a person a ghoul?
What makes a person warm?
What makes a person center?
What makes a person love?
What makes a person tender?
What makes a person sympathetic?
What makes a person humane?
What makes a person compassionate?
What makes a person sustain?
What makes a person gentle?
What makes a person kind?
What makes a person peaceful?
What makes a person aligned?
What makes a person merciful?
What makes a person good?
What makes a person charitable?
What makes a person withstood?
The answer to these questions is hard to define, but starts with our parents way back in time.
Our minds start growing from the day we’re conceived,
shaped by everything we feel, hear and see.
Having loving attention from our mom and dad, should keep us centered and from turning out bad.
Confidence and security come from this for you and me,
keeps us grounded and determines who we turn out to be.
The attention we receive when we are young,
will greatly impact who we’ll become.
For parents who shower with love, attention and praise,
have children that are content and never cease to amaze.
While children that never receive the attention they desire,
grow up unsecure (unprotected) and look to others for the attention they require
But, while this may be true for most of us you see,
some are unembraced by any attention they receive.
Children need love, attention and praise,
to grow up secure and confident in their ways.
Young like April, winds
Settling in the limbs of oaks,
Just past the crisp whisper
Cerulean drifting, tides
Graceful seas reminding me to
Listen as secrets poured
Past the graceful, splashing on sands
Lingering in the stillness, quietly
Praising in sprays of reassurance,
Silhouettes dancing…
Preventing me from smiling
The unsympathetic waves – cold
Like winter, plaguing my
Thoughts, splattering my ankles
With desperate mysteries,
Arising from the foamy feelings,
Rushing across the beach – surging
Like history, in the silence
Freeing my heart to breathe in
Darkness that succumbed to the
Colorless flow of melancholic
Currents, bleeding detached doubts
Emotionless memories – color me
Blind by the hues of indignant
Dreams, blurred over April’s
Toes as she tiptoes across the beach
During a spring thaw,
When everything – everywhere
Is icelike, frosty – flurries
Kissing away the joy of arriving
At the beach before the hassled
Vacationers begin to descend
On the Atlantic, where I found the
Chill to bring me a sense of peace
Like the warming of the sands
Never had in the past, on shores
Like a prayer, ascending
To be heard by the blesser
The miracle worker, the One
Who created wind and sea,
And everything that remembers
All the spring breaks – living
Inside of me, memorized
By my senses, the pictures
Never taken, but not forsaken
By my recollection of shared
History, the quiet – stardust moments
When light faded into a promise,
And the seas taught me to believe
Even the coldest water….
can feed my dreams!
SIMPLY POETRY 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John lawless
April 6, 2023