Long Ventilation Poems
Long Ventilation Poems. Below are the most popular long Ventilation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ventilation poems by poem length and keyword.
This one is for you dad, I guess I had to write this poem, had to tell you how I feel because I've kept it in so long.
I love you, yes I do but this is what's been bothering me, never thought I could forgive you when you said that stuff to me.
You hurt me bad that day for real so it seems I can't forget, and every time I think about dad it really makes me sick.
Couldn't believe you put them before me, I was always there for you, and every time you needed something I was always coming through.
Snuck you food and snuck you sheets and although I'd get in trouble, it didn't mean a thing because no one would come above you.
When the family would talk about you I took your side without a doubt, I'm like " you only get one dad so y'all just better watch y'all mouth.
I would give you my last dollar without a care on how you'd use it, and when I told you that though dad you had me really looking stupid.
You called me female dog you called me whore, and that mess killed me deep inside, you had me really snapping on you, I can't believe you made me cry.
I tried to hate you for it dad but my heart won't let that happen, instead of hating you I'm missing you and that just got me mad and...
I want you to tell me you love me, and that you won't do that mess again, because I really need to hear it, I think then I'll let you in.
Let you back into my heart because I swear the love was fading, didn't know how I should feel about you and that's just freaking crazy.
You were talking to me like I was a chick out in the streets, like you hated me or something, like we had some type of beef.
It's crazy that I miss you though I thought that wouldn't happen, I thought I could forget you but you would always keep me laughing.
With them crazy freaking dances and the crazy things you'd say.
I would tell them I didn't miss you but thought about you everyday.
But dad with all this being said I'm just trying to let you know, about the the way you made me feel and how it's hard to let it go.
I just want my old dad back the one who used to hug and kiss me, the one that always cared and showed he really loved me.
I said I want my old dad back, the one I'd sit and conversate with, the one who kept me going, the one I'd joke around and play with.
So here's this poem dad, hope you took heed I hope you listened.
Didn't wanna make you mad but welcome to my ventilation.
Control of breathing is quite complex
And if you really check the specs
You find all kinds of balances and checks
Within the medulla, cells playing their role
The DRG, inspirational control
Using cyclic neurons for their goal.
Actions potentials from the DRG
These cells are cyclic and fire intermittently.
Then muscle contract to the best of their ability.
To the external intercostals and diaphragm they talk
And these muscles, at the neurons’ stalk
Follow orders and they do not balk.
And when they stop, the muscles relax.
Air is forced out as muscle slacks.
Volume decreases and Boyle’s Law acts.
So breathing in costs ATP
That means the use of energy
But calm expiration? It’s just free.
But when you need to force air out
Or at something, really shout
The VRG is what it’s all about.
It talks to abdominal muscles as well
As internal intercostals to make pressure swell
And air in the lungs can no longer dwell.
The Apneustic center in the pons is a source
Of a center dealing with force
Of an inspiration’s course.
The pneumotaxic center deals with duration
And both centers talk to each medullary station
And help regulate breathing condition.
The limbic system has some sway
In breathing fast or slow at bay
More than most realize, an important say.
And the hypothalamus, always of import
With its influence never falls short
In aiding ventilation, it lends its support.
For other than limbic, it deals with fever
When it tips the temperature lever
And makes ventilation a greater achiever.
Lastly there’s the cortex of the brain,
Whose job most think, is always to reign.
But when it comes to breathing, it is quite plain.
You can’t stop breathing by your will.
The lower centers always still
Make breathing a reflex, cortex input almost nil.
And just what drives this reflex to ventilate?
From where does the need originate?
From the chemoreceptors, it does emanate.
Receptors monitoring proton concentration.
Then messages sent without cessation
To the brainstem for increasing ventilation.
And hydrogen ions, where are they from?
Carbon dioxide and water, voila, they come.
The magic formula, carbonic acid does succumb.
The young lad enjoys no affection,
Zero attention, nothing but total neglection
His mind often travels back in time to the moment he asked her out after a heartfelt confession,
Considering the state of things, he often wishes it'd just been met with rejection
The young lad once thought love to be perfection,
Now however, he sees love as his greatest affliction
Alone in a room with her, nothing but air sucking tension;
Often leaves the young lad in desperate need of some ventilation
Always killing the young lad, she claims it is anything but her intention
But, it's been nothing but a multitude of lies and endless deception
He has never loved with such passion,
Now the young lad's heart is out of commission
That's a broken lad with a shattered heart
The love was never mutual from the start
He once believed it was, but it turned out to be nothing more than an illusion
When the scales finally fell from his eyes, what he now saw was a world shattering realisation
It threw him into a pool of confusion,
He was unable to make a single decision,
Everything was beyond his comprehension
Floods of tears, screams, all forms of expression,
For emotionally lethal amounts of pain, anger, hurt and frustration
He saw the signs, knew the interpretation
But the young lad was too stubborn, and chose to cling on to his delusion
'You aren't all that, be grateful'; that there is a violation
Toxic queen calls all the shots, no negotiation
Whatever she says stands, no question
She puts him in more than one tough position
Makes an accusation
Jumps to a conclusion
This isn't love, this is oppression
But it seems like he doesn't have an option
The young lad always proceeds with caution
The girl with whom he'd visualized a family
The girl that he showed off to the other lads as his wifey
Same girl has the young lad loosing his grip on his sanity
Same girl has the young lad feeling like nothing but a shell of himself; completely empty
Same girl has the young lad making love an enemy
Same girl has the young lad feeling so lonely
Always has the young lad thinking he isn't enough, unworthy
Overwhelmed by his love,
My lover set out to weave a tent for me
A house, with me in which it would delight him to dwell
A grand mansion over which He spared no expense
Consumed with loving concern for my security,
My maker set about it two formidable lines of defense
To the first He said 'wage war against any and every invader'
And the second He trained in precision and memory
To every command issued, they attacked and grew in number
Knowing His Lady well,
My creek in the rock set forth to install the plumbing
To some vessels He said 'supply', and 'drain' He said to others
And if there be a leakage
He commands the waters 'congeal!'
And they clot in obedience
Despising darkness
The Father of celestial lights set up incomparable wiring
To the Brain He said 'you're the master' and a cord He made its Deputy
And as they coursed down miles and miles of nerves,
To some neurotransmitters He said 'charge' and 'relax' He said to others
And they carried His commands in obeisance
Anticipating my needs
My All-sufficient one set up a beautiful storehouse
To the inlet He said ' curve and dazzle me with her smile'
And He stretched out convoluted tunnels to reap of all I ate
He placed command on the Liver to preserve and replenish
And it said, 'gladly, even if I must grow again'
What house is without ventilation?!
The Breath of life decided; not his bride's!
So He breathed in me and my lungs inflated
And with each time I exhaled
He commanded that I be purified
So afraid of His holy presence, the waste escapes
Paying attention to fine detail
The matchless artist set forth to decorate me
To pheromones He said 'give her fragrance'
And to my gonads He commanded 'keep her soft and supple'
And in delight, they linked with others to keep my house gorgeous
Jealously possessive, this touch is especially His
My Lover set up His secret Chambers
To my Heart He gave a song
And as it sings relentlessly
I hear the echo of his name...
I am, I am, I am.
-laulindah
#the hundredth
I
The form we take
In the shape of a life
From trumpet birth blasts
To the final shadow sighs
The faithful leap
From a Dayton hill
To silver supersonic flight
A mountain of yellowing
Paper words and work
Of worn shoes
Discarded styles
An inland lake of soapy water
A dark, cool mystery mine of sleep
A warehouse of frozen glimpses
Catalogued and filed
A hurricane of curses
Sneer-spital and hot tears
The back country
Mood changed
From bright desert
To dank moor
All and all wiped kitchen clean
A few dark drops and fingerprints
Remain of this victimless
Crime scene
II
Every valid morning
The escape committee
Meets in the yard
To talk about
Terms & conditions
Cooking up plans
Set to fail
Next week
We will turn
Into smoke
& float
Through the ventilation
Or maybe become
Water, no wait..
Tears
Yes tears
Used to seal
Weekly envelopes
Sent back home
III
No fuss
No movement
No heat
No perspiration
No credit
No charge
No shame
No refund
No record
No scar
No signal
No breeze
No traffic
No morning
No bed
No room
No sheets
No clothes
No water
No ceiling
No air
No doubt
No blinking
No past
No night
No sound
No return
IV
Something seen once
At the roadside
Shining like a lost jewel
Amid the rusted out
Beer cans
Greasy fast food wrappers
Could´ve been a
Lost crown
Or a busted hubcap
That was so long ago
But not forgotten
Like a comet
Coming back around
You should´ve stopped
But what would have
Happened
One less mystery
The world was
Expanding then
Outwards & out
Few of us notice
The point when it starts
To shrink back
The tide turning
At some atomic level
But it does
And here you are
On this life raft
So, so much ocean
And so little left
Of you
V
And suddenly
Some movement
Thinner than paper
The void
At first
Abstract & Foreign
Takes on some form
A voice you always knew
A blood voice
Begins it´s
Forever song
Divinity all empowers me for some dignity
Through this course of life so to have an entity
Power flow through my veins ,black faced
Melanin at its best, perceived as a beast ,
hair puffs and cushioned
But possesses white finger nails,
Call that race .
Feels safe but not , something I call
Chaotic tranquillity ...
Calls from here and there
All from my clan
For purpose in unity to the grand plan
All summed up to make up the planet....
Round and round the earth feels.
Yet , it's a
Chaotic tranquillity
Man live then die
Life and death seems like the price
For Earthly experience .
So we cry into the world
But we being cried for
When we leave
An entity painted
A life lived, good or bad but lived .
Chaotic tranquillity
The serenity all set for all race
But isn't it awkward when races, race with each other
Battle of an unknown cause but a major curse, through this course
Of living, so to keep the pulse
But forces
Bent on keeping the world a
Chaotic Tranquillity.......
We all got Vices
I mean you, you and yeah you! And me.
It's a Vice city
Humans Co-habitate
And it's humanly.
.. wrongs, right
We either turn left or right on this Journey
But we choose to go straight
With a luxurious sweet heart ride,
Called Hope.
It's just a goal. Faith winning.
Faith in the Divine.
Still division in religion
Chaotic tranquillity legion
Blue skies Sunny villa
My family my first nation
Loves spread across
And yeah we got ventilation
World my neighbour cos I love her
As myself.
A rule by the Maker
Now we got laws
Cos we break rules
For the world needs to recognise
We need love driving us forth
Paddling with care
And accelerating into one'ness !
Bit by bit
For its still
Chaotic tranquillity.......
14/07/2017
I'm trapped in this box, with nowhere to go
There's no ventilation here, for the air to flow
Walls so tight 360 degrees around me
Silence and darkness so thick
I can't see a thing in front of me
Gasping for air, it’s hard to breathe
Searching for a way out, I've got to leave
With my hands placed against these walls
Trying hard to find a door
I can feel the walls closing in on me more and more
So as the panic attack starts, I take short breaths
Trying to come up with ideas
But there aren't none left
Attacks are coming quicker, as my mind deceive me
Reminded of words from Jigga
So I got to ' Breathe Easy'
I got to defeat these devils my family needs me
So as I fight to survive all the things that are making me mad
Trapped in these walls is really making me sad
I badly need to exhale, that’s no doubt
Unless you've experienced claustrophobia to this degree
You could never imagine what I'm talking about
I'm trying hard to get out
There's so much more of me that I would like to give
Air is what I need to live
You see........
My sign is Cancer, so like other Crabs
When I step up, I get pulled back down
But yet, I breathe easy, No need to stop me now
So I push a little harder
Trying to knock these walls down
The more I push these enemies
The more they try to hang around
O' I get it now,
It's not about my enemies and how they could hurt someone else
And the more I try to stop them from hurting someone else
I hurt myself
So I use prayer as a weapon in this spiritual fight
The harder I pray, the more I see the light
These walls are starting to open wider, with ever word that I say
I can see the sun shine bright, just like a summer day
As I made my get away, the demons started to flee
Free at last, No longer trapped with my Inner Me.
You can keep swinging in your smile
as your eyes see through the cylinder only
where the flowers radiate the scent
where the leaves wait for the rustle
of the fondling wind
where stars wait for the music
of the magical light peaks
where the blue sky waits
for the golden kite
in the cloud towers
Where the staircase raises the ears
for the sound of the footsteps
Where the mahogany branch
craves for the feet of the pair of the larks
The cylinder refuses to take
the wide angle lens
adding to the view
the greedy rats
the spilling vats
the leopard like hungry cats
the pus and pain of the flats
that our apartment is proud of
housing the autocrats
None in your tunnel
You don't battle
Against the stale apples
the de facto brothels
in the apartment in isolation
with no ventilation
You are of course better off
than those who have
the same tunnel before the eyes
Only the field of view with no dew
For them in the queue
The rapists and rape victims
The murdered and the murderer
The cheats and frauds
The figures flawed
Nothing good and well
The earth a hell
You are better off
With your cut-off
eliminating the minuses
Including only the pluses
where the thorns
aid and abet the blossoming of the rose
We like to keep disjointed
And highlight the negative knives only
Turning blind to the beehives
And the humming bee
bridging you and me
You do have the ear
corresponding with the tunnel vision
to hear and respond
and build the blueberry bond
between the flute and the music
The circles concentric
of the lyrics of life
and the drumsticks
______________________________________________
April 28, 2018
Tunnel Vision - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
I don't know why, I always find myself dying
deep inside the hole of life but trying
to be alive, at the same time
with the same rhyme I just keep writing
in this book of lies that I'm disguising
triple the score, I'll be sippin' the scorned
rippin' the torn, livin' in vivid, sick'n twisted for more
stickin' a piston incision to form
in sickness to born from weakened wit with a bored grin
to bein' this kid who's sore with the morbid
I say this Like I don't know it's mazin'
putting me ashore with the fourty for clickin'
with a clique or four ****'s
given, if I'm givin' this and stored in a more simple storage
horsin' around with the thoughts of a clown
I've been a frown, but I've turned up right corny
like a veggie but if I let the bull ram to my whole body's jet stream,
letting it take a toll, so bad like breakin' a bowl
and watchin' it shatter to the floor, slowly empty
even though when we glue the pieces close, we can sew it like needle knows, we can close what we can see
and if I don't let the fan breathe
I will never plan, we can stand here and act like what we just can't be, a ghost
but everyday walkin' like a cause and effecting everything you think
it never lowers for whenever you're ever lower than low
for sure, for show, it's a walkin' smile that we possess and yes
we let the most stress be guests just to forget
whenever the rest is said, but that's no end to a vent
of vent's to vent' let it be told, the old saying say's even to this day
we make up a saying just to say it
hopin' they can relate to its greatness
sayin' it for ages, they just might rearrange it's little phrases
Life, love and communication, this is something for every nation. It started with temptation and verification, but ended in complication. So listen to this declaration.
We gave each other inspiration, but also forced confrontation with our own situation. You have my admiration, but also my exclamation of condemnation. I've been on probation, negation, suspended animation, holding back this accusation of flirtation. My automation, caused the stagnation in our relation. One last conversation, ventilation, would be my liberation of this infestation of indignation.
But I'm not gonna ask for comfortation, an explanation, a reason for separation. A confirmation of expiration, information or explication. I have my own meditation, salvation, a new foundation of my own creation. My frustration, agitation, my never-ending contemplation, is under restoration. No more manipulation, exaggeration or expectation; I'm done with argumentation, suffocation and speculation, this implication of obligation. This is my adaptation, transformation and reparation, my graduation from irritation. No more hibernation. Only acceptation.
This proclamation needs clarification: it's not a profanation or defamation; you still have all of my adoration and appreciation. I'm just finally taking vacation, with a newfound determination. We don't need justification or vindication, a modification or translation. We only need commemoration, to remember our sensation of elation. It was not a simulation, just pure stimulation, accumulation of exhilaration.