Long Vegetative Poems

Long Vegetative Poems. Below are the most popular long Vegetative by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vegetative poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member A Vegetative State of Mind

My mouth’s in a cage, locked up and alone, 
Sewn shut with no one to speak to.
My eyes have seen pain of mental torment, 
A broken mirror that sees straight through you.

My ears are blocked to the screams and the cries, 
A sand grain alone on the beach.
My skin’s now contorted to a dead cold bronze nothing, 
Not tanned in a figure of speech.

My nose has been shattered to smells of a rose,
To the smells of happy and free.
My bones have been snapped, two pencils from one, 
My body is now wasting debris.

My “me” has been broken, discarded and burnt, 
Once strong, now brittle and frail.
My life is now cursed in this vegetative state, 
On a bed my mind’s locked in a jail.
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member Catarrh and Catharsis

... stalactites hung like dystopian snot from a statue 

her brain was frozen and formed ice in her mind

a lacuna without inlet or outlet arrested in time

mind’s skates tied up in bundles of snowflakes

gloves off for defeat with all speed set in arrest

not even her black woollen hat showed any signs

of thawing heart-warming emotions for comfort


empty speech bubbles covered her scraped tongue

where a mouth-watering waterfall should pursue

a pick axe with nothing left to dissect or construct

dangled from a callous corpus callosum in pain

unable to connect right left wrong or left to correct

this was not what searching tranquillity had promised 

in contrast transcendence wept at chilly flood gates


a voice that had so much to part with in a landscape

of permanent layers of verglas onto vaporous rime 

she wished for some slime or yuck glopping goo

but permafrost refused a glimpse of impermanence

a fool thought it funny to stick a carrot in her nostril

helpless she could not leave the vegetative state of affairs

clung to a string of crystal beads at pearly gates of no return


this is a lie I am Pinocchio at the threshold of truth

a metaphor unable to break the spell of apocalypse

unfulfilled amphora and vessel that can’t even leak

incontinence at the pointless orifice of evacuation

without one drop of hope for cataracts to dissolve

a lonely icebreaker with nothing left to crack open

where a firm skull should harbour my residual flow


when a polar bear embraced her unbalanced spectre

shared his white furry coat under a mantle of darkness

shales of introjection floated away from the solar eclipse

which had sheltered her from a charcoaled manic cauldron

touching middle grounds in between scorching euphoria

and lifeless apathy just long enough to remember that she had

not taken her medication and the self-help manual was useless


sometimes catharsis has to wait for one small lucid moment

when a beak meets a beaker and cascades start from a dribble

The Face Of Rain ( DHR)

The experience came fast 
As streams flooded my soul 
I had thought of an encounter coming 
But slowly slowly it walked away from my worldview 

Time is such a tiny vehicle 
Driving life away from plan 
I least expected streams to vomit water like a sinking body 

The experience came prepared 
Forming river links in my soul 
Even in my dream 
Rivers keep running after me 
I could see ornaments coming along too 

I lost fishes to the running splash 
Fishes i had feed with the sand of life 
Life is so vegetative in the pond 
And fishes are interspersed among grasses 

The experience came wild 
Along with rain to share a particular relationship with time 

Today 
A beautiful sun is set above us 
Giving us a flourishing light 
As cassava stems 
Stand looking gracious 

I believe the last face of the sky 
Gives hope in abundance 
Today is faithful with us 
And it's close to the end of everything
© Ce Cani  Create an image from this poem.

Problematic Content

It's being used here for emphasis
denaturing and altering
the structure of germy surfaces.
Anti bacterium was created from
the need to both
clean and eliminate funk
and bacteria.
Vegetative Forms of bacteria can be
cleaned with alcohols. But have no affect on either
spores and viruses.
Disinfecting to eliminate antimicrobial 
were antibiotics are used to help
 eliminate the infestations.
Ozone generators and Anti odor beads are
used to get the Funk away and eliminate odor
Good old funk eleimanation can included
but should not be exclusive of the the latters:
Vinegar and baking soda, are a wise combination
the effect is almost instant and the smell
can be enhanced by using citrus oils and oils

Kinetic verbs are actions that relate to a specific topic or genre.
these verbs are in relation to a certain topic description of
rendering remedy using the terminology of the genre described.
_______________________________________________________
Kinetic nouns are nouns that  relate to a specific area of study: word usage
and description terminology.
to give a more inviting scent to any area..
____________________________________________________________
Solutionary treatments are when the noun and verbs are used to help create a solution to solve a    scentarian problem. for example
Cyon Sr. didn't have enough knowledge of science and didn't have enough money to have a solution created to deal with the orders and funks in his area of work.
He knew that crisp pungent odors from citrises like grapefruits, lemons and oranges could be extracted from the skins of the fruits and stored in extracted vegetable oil.
He save fruit zest for more many, many years and stored them in oils.
When he saved his money he wanted to create a product that would use these oils to eliminate odor and funk. He used these terms might the chemist would have an easier time creating a formula and soap to be used in Funk and oder removal!
A formula is an equation
where a function is predefined.
Isolation of Citrus Oils
optimization (the Extraction of oils from the zests)

Written by Professor Lydain Pinene
Form: Bio

Cognitive Crutches

The familiar face looked grotesque.
Indelible imprints of blood stains,
scarred the contour of his body.
His skull had crushed on the windshield..
A rampage had ripped his nerves naked...
Kinetic ardour of the car, exiled him to static rust
in a vegetative state... bereft of cognition.
But his mind still addled... in lucid ambition.

His skin could still  touch rain..
His eyes could still  see lightning..
His ears could still hear thunder..
His heart could still feel pain.

Glint of two black marbles looked at the window..
Is it dusk or dawn?.. 
Searching for cognitive crutches....
Interim thoughts grope his head.....
Is he alive or dead?




29th December,2018

PLACED FIRST IN Brian Strand Jan Wk 2 contest  

Originally submitted to the Brainy Brevity Poetry Contest of Maureen McGreavy
The theme of contest : "BRAIN INJURY"


Premium Member Lily's Picture

My darling daughter know I love you so,
And though I know I say it less than should,
(Though don’t I know it’s true of how you glow)
You brighten life more than your daddy could;
Think of the mountaintops near where you live,
That roll enchantment through a desert state,
Where sand should be instead’s vegetative -
Just like the light you shine when time is late;
Because although I know you know I lack,
And please believe I know you owe me zip,
When awful lies were said behind my back,
You stood for truth and helped me keep a grip;
 So to my Lily Belle that heaven sent –
  I hope you know how much your picture meant.
Form: Sonnet

Mama Just a Little Girl

Every now and then
The cold blooded floor cements her dream.

Every now and then
She wakes up to the livid voice of her baby sinking into cupid rain.

The mercury of things on her chest is open as the cloud
Every now and then
She thinks of the diary of a teenage mother with baby sitter.

All these rotten times
She found no triangle in love.

All these rotten times
She saw no handwriting of her soldier on military wall.
Only the rose on his grave had kissed her thousand times in hazy vision.

Sometimes it seems as if the cloud over her head is drinking beer.
How will she find love in these rotten times.

Every now and then
She smiles at vegetative hands in the house of commerce.

I see a little love dripping out of her baby's feeding bottle.
I see a church of diapers becoming rare.

She's just 15 and mama is just a little girl.
© Ce Cani  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Didactic

Premium Member Spring, Summer At Last

The grasses are green...
and sky is so blue...
true spring can be seen...
in oh! what a view!

The beautiful flowers...
of colors enthrall...
share springtime showers..
from heavens fall..

The trees bear foliage...
the songbirds appear...
singing such knowledge...
of springtime cheer!

The bees come alive...
as flowers hold their heed...
then back to the hive...
with harvested need...

Good weather for days...
of sunshine perchance...
Unless raininess plays..
in vegetative advance...

Such flourishing nature..
lends spring fully cast...
thus nurtures such stature...
for summer at last.
Form: Rhyme

Travels of My Mind

Travels of My Mind

My mind has travelled so far
It left my body behind
Doing what it desires
It wanders the universe
Collecting ideas from other lands
Alien to us mortals on Earth
Only it knows what it will see
What it has seen
It tells me in my dreams
Such wild vivid images
Colors and sounds that are new
Unknown by artists and musicians
Lands of fire and the darkest smoke
And others covered with ancient ice
Vegetative paradises
Alive with plants that touch the skies
Such strangely beautiful animals
Scents that drive my body to the edge
Trying to push it in a valley of ecstasy
This world where my body resides
The world of my home is so primitive
It cannot compare to what I have experienced
What my mind brings me as I sleep

Matrix Purgatory

What if

Matter whether or not

You think you choose to digest the

Red Pill
Or
Blue Pill

1 and only 1 
Constant common thread 
remains in tact

Somewhere hidden flowing
deep inside the main frame

An encrypted Code does exist

Beyond the many Firewalls
protecting it

Supplementing the Matrix

That could bring it to it's knee's

And so expose the endless litany
of lie's used to subjugate the masses
into willing servitude

And we're to awaken enlightened
to so much fresh new information 
racing through your brain

You we're barely able to recollect
something as trivial as the simple
necessity of how important it is
to breathe

And that all this information your
brain is now trying to process

May possibly even kill you or turn 
your brain to mush 

And leave you in a vegetative
incapacitated state

Like you we're initially before

Only difference is that this may
be a far bitter pill to swallow

Being it's a toxic deadly mix of
1 part Red and other half Blue

And the side effects leave you in
a permanent comatose state 
of mind

To suffer the consequences of
whilst in purgatory

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