Long Unthinkable Poems
Long Unthinkable Poems. Below are the most popular long Unthinkable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unthinkable poems by poem length and keyword.
I belong to you by right,
because I indefinitely possess
your captured heart;
and I can't settle for anything less!
Your innocence and true smile,
quickly tempted me to do
the unthinkable and the impossible;
like a lightining out of the blue...
you led me all the way through,
and made miracles happen for two!
I belong to you by right,
believe it with all your might;
I can make big things happen...
make a rainy day shine brighter
than that unreachable star
and bring you closer to Heaven!
Love can make every heart come alive,
and we shouldn't let it slide;
but love that incredible moment
with passion and sentiment!
I belong to you by right,
yes,let's become one tonight;
I belong to you by right...
let's believe in what feels right!
Women Bartender Parties
Their eyes watched
the bartender,
like a tennis ball,
volleying to each side,
bouncing, soft like
from side to side
of the bar, filling drinks
and old men's hearts
with wet dreams,
prompting the men
on gathering closer
to the campfire.
She was hot.
Their necks stretched,
minds made pseudo
claims, and mouths watered
of her effect.
She was young and new,
and too studious.
A librarian by day,
layers of academia,
flowing through her veins-
you could see that
she was smart, yet sassy.
There was no hiding, though,
the biker girl behind
those glasses, hair
in a bun, and brass demeanor.
She made sashay look
pedestrian.
She could compete with
a New York model
with her providence,
long arms and legs,
and a longer neck,
that likely sprung
a gasket in her admirers.
Would she lie?
When she gained wind
of whispering old men,
poking the shortness
of her denim shorts
she tickled their fancies.
"Is my vagina sticking out,"
as she checked her shorts,
innocence oozing from her
and sending old men's
watering hole to rise.
She was a frolicking horse
that put all the other
bar's bartenders to pasture.
She continued pouring
drinks, like how pouring rain-
rescues drought stricken
crops. She had that effect.
When she saddled next
to an old man, lucky one
at that, her gray eyes
boring into his browns,
as they split the night air
into little gifts,
exchanging presents
of knowledge of each other,
you could see his horses
neighing, too, nudging
to get out of the stables.
Did she say she was writing
a book?
He doesn't remember.
He remembers
seeing a moon flower.
She continued serving rain,
while the jukebox played
and the patrons swayed,
exchanging banter with each.
Moments later she did
the unthinkable-no
it wasn't a red scarlet.
Or connotative.
She drank, which is taboo,
matching shots of Royal,
three, with the old man,
while not missing a beat,
holding her liquor well,
and turning back his hands
............. of time.
connie pachecho
4/20/17
Unbelievable, unthinkable, unimaginable,
have lost everything, all gone, now homeless...
are you willing to risk it all, are you strong enough to lead,
running out of food whom will feed you, in shock, now hopeless
stranded, how then will you send for a rescue one day
have you a bag of tricks, skills to hold your own, stable
while you wait in hope, for word a rescue is underway
stressed, unsuspecting what will happen, unpredictable
good physical condition, is pure psychological
strong enough to rebuild, my world eschatology
yet still you have mustard skills to survive all,
you find a safe place, waiting, is leading you blind
finding your way there, where is safe now
finding your way back...
all is up in dah air, this just is'nt fair some how...
History will record, as a matter of fact
that you did at last reach out to your Church..
for a hand-up with your heart a smart place to search
write a little Poem book from your heart
to make MONEY this is where you start
In my sleep and in my dreams,
In my thoughts and in my reflections,
I have a daunting question,
What a person I want to be?
To measure the immeasurable,
To scale the unthinkable,
The worth of life,
Seems inconceivable.
Leaving the past, I seek anew,
A heart that’s kind, a mind that's true.
A soul that listens, learns with grace,
And walks through life at a steady pace.
I want to walk with quiet grace,
Through every challenge that I face,
To lift the weary, heal the pain,
And bring back light when hope seems slain.
In every step, I long to grow,
with strength to rise, yet gentle flow,
To live with purpose, bold and free,
This is the person I want to be.
“Father of All, Hoopoe of the Shining Light
Voice of Truth, singing above pits of night
Light singing in heaven’s tree above the height
Barbelo in the heights unthinkable
Nous incorruptible, Word untouchable
Forefather whose voice is unspeakable
Father whose feathers are impenetrable”
Norea the phoenix cried with tears in eyes
Heaven’s birds heard and flew her to the skies
To the eternal garden of endless size
Under the singing doves of holy glass
That her head may rest in Epinoia’s grass
Resting under the wings of Adamas
To attain her first mind through Christ’s wings of brass
So, in this place, she breathes forth offspring herself
She has been gifted the Logos itself
She sings with the soul of Adamas himself
In unity with the undying birds
Singing immediately with life-filled words
With the eagle of Christ, the guide of herds
Resting in the light which she knew before words
Dwelling through the mind of mankind’s forefather
That Invisible Simurgh, the founder
She gives praise to the hoopoe bird, her father
She rests in the Gardens of rest and light
There are days where she beholds the Garden’s might
Her soul will be ever filled to the height
For she has the four doves, whose glass wings shine bright
The stained glass doves intercede for her again
To Adamas, in his heavenly den
That Hoopoe who rests in all the race of men
Housing Norea’s joy in his feathers
Who sings about the one name without measures
“All-Father, Hoopoe of holy pleasures
Voice of Truth, singing beyond earthly treasures”
Killing occurs in front of kids on crowded streets
When every conflict ends in senseless violence
And fear takes stage as death becomes routine
Looking for a meaning where one does not exist
It spreads far and wide jolting every corner of life
Inside churches, schools, and spaces in between
Where unthinkable happens attacking humanity
Probing each time why guns are sold like candy
Hearing their cries, tears reign saddened eyes
Those who didn't die asking why they survived
As the nation drowns in grief one more time
Immobilized, witnessing end of innocent lives
Friends they saw that day left without goodbye
Conversations interrupted filling in the blanks
Words unsaid cower listening to heart demur
Repulsed by ugliness, clinging to solemn faith
Protests mount louder in the halls of Congress
Students deploy eloquence to confront inaction
Hearing again falsity nation has heard before
Fear gets replaced by a resolve to find answers
Millions have been counted as vocal protesters
Speaking intelligently to challenge lawmakers
Awakening goodness of freedom loving angels
Looking for our voice, to hear how much we care
Every movement relies on the goodwill of citizens
Its success originates in a rational conversation
Decipher again the words of second amendment
Nothing there envisions a bullet ridden nation
April 1, 2018
Social justice contest by John Hamilton
Societal discontent by Brendan Simons
What does a young naïve Christian think
When a hooded desperado storms a prayer room,
His scary presence quiets the praying tongues ,
And his outlawed round replaces hope with doom?
He doesn’t think, instead he silently prays :
Father, forgive their misinformed cruel idiocy,
Teach these men that suicide is not an escape
From the punishment for their bloody idiosyncrasy.
What does an aging single mother think
When the hope of a graduate daughter or son
Turns out to be that unthinkable news of death,
The bullet-riddled corpse, the end of the rising sun?
She does not think, instead she miserably cries:
Father, blight their brows with sulfurs hot,
Numb their souls with the gall of unending pain,
And their hope for bliss in death reduce to naught.
What does the orphaned little boy or girl think
When the bright elder sibling they adore
Calls to say that she’s been forced to call
And say goodbye before the triggers go?
The orphaned boy or girl does not think, instead they howl:
Father, tell the murderous killers to spare my sister
For there is no-one else to wash my clothes
And none to help with the assignments and dinner.
And what does the heavenly merciful Creator think
When the roars of guns and the sobs of death
Force him to turn and cast his all-seeing eyes below
To behold such thick-skinned extermination of breath?
He does not think, instead he wonders:
What breed of men is this I accidentally made,
To wound and mutilate my innocent lambs,
Rejoicing as their lives sorrowfully fade?
(The massacre of well over 150 Garissa University College students by the Al-Shabaab militants on 2nd April 2015)
Few witnesses to your young private tears at the age of ten
Why me Why me
No amount of hugs or consolation could provide a reason or answer
I know if I had been there
My heart too would have shattered in a million pieces
Your brother never forgot those Why me tears in the night
Going through unthinkable ordeal foreign to any of us
So young Why me indeed
Years toughened you up till you traded those tears for strength
And people would ask why you were always so lucky
I think it started off with those Why me tears
Then Lady Luck came along to compensate
Thank goodness you were surrounded with love and pampering
You pulled through and knew you could make the most of it
You bit into this crazy world as you would into a juicy red apple
Why me became why not me
And you didn’t let anything stop you
You had a million dreams
You had goals and they were all out there for the taking
And you went for it You went for it all
And I loved you all the more for it
Published in my 24-page photo/poetry book ~WHY ME: Edward Dennis Wicks~ 2023
AP: Honorable Mention 2021, Honorable Mention 2022
PS featured in 2021
Painful memories..
A stinging pain
An open wound that cannot heal..
Remains opened
A portrait covered in glass..
The pieces of glass shattered into thousands of pieces..
Pieces of glass signify hurtful memories of being hurt by another..
A person you loved so dearly..
You held so deep in your heart..
Had done the unthinkable..
The unspeakable..
A sinking feeling of hopelessness..
The heart slowly sinking..
Sinking and sinking..
As if a ship that once sailed so effortessly, had stopped sailing..
The ship continued to sink..
The open seas were forever closed..
A sea of agony and pain..
Persistent pain ..
Time after time..
A complete state of resentment and utter disgust..
Anger with a mixture of hurt and pain..
All combined together to create a toxic state of mind..
Poisened daily..
Repetative toxins frequently..
Frantically cannot endure the open wounds..
The sinking heart..
The pain and agony
The poisonous toxins..
Saving myself from all the misery and pain..
Discernment of realization
By just a choice..
The choice shall once again ignite the flame within myself that had burned..
Burned and faded instantly..
A making of an instantaneous choice..
Shall set me free..
The way to my freedom is..
Forgiveness..
I forgave the other..
However I truly saved myself from the bondages of my own entrapment..
Wounds cleansed and healed..
Liberation..
I am free..
"As a child I maintained a stoic attitude.
I exhibited patience, restraint, resignation, forbearance, and lack of complaint.
The ideal child you might say. As I grew, I realized the error of my ways."
¬The Poet¬
Dreaming improbable dreams.
Reality betwixt the unsealing
Softly fluttering butterfly wings
Apricot anacondas wreathing
Bleating lambs catapult seaward
Over volcanoes about to erupt
Prismed glass rainbows sliding
Monuments souring unhindered.
No longer enslaved slaves
Thinking the unthinkable
To be what I truly feel
Tears that can’t be cried
Walnut shells dismembered,
For pathways to the unknown
Physically powerful reasons.
Persimmons permeate perfume,
Soft velvet sparks so subtle
Teardrops fall in puddles,
Weary eyes forge forward,
Everlasting daisies wilt
Forlorn ekphratic regrets
Misted windows endorse,
The pain as its vile pungency
Scorns the soul of the angelic
drives goodness to the brink,
mighty swords flow protests
to the unyielding winds of time
To defiantly stand up to demons
for a valid worthwhile cause
as the lyrics of memoirs spill
and gazes turn to wonder,
amid lonely nights of fear
with only love unblemished
if not myself what can I be?
to reach an unreachable star
I surrender to their touch.
Untold ethics to be true.
The sweet rose petals pink
And cumquats bursting
And ever do I regret the sigh,
Of your entwined lullaby
With cold adorning feathers
The sorrowful peacock wails,
An unending finale of song
To ease my savage thoughts
Doing it my way evermore,
And regain courage to protest,
In tangerine oasis in the seas
Instilling birds and bees hum
And bliss of your caressing
On clouds of coral swaying
As lilac shoots skyward
In ever circling cascades
Of merriment galore in store
Where mirth and joy combine
Making sediment pure wine
All logic cast aside in the wash.
The righted wrongs unsaid.
Resting my tired head
Culminating in enough said.