Long Violence Poems
Long Violence Poems. Below are the most popular long Violence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Violence poems by poem length and keyword.
mutedly i uttered as the silence filled the air
i confidently stuttered as i left to go nowhere
reached where i started before i left the end
crumbled broken hearted and i never had a friend
laid awake dreaming of the things ive never seen
a melancholly feeling of a place ive almost been
seen the setting sun in the middle of the night
bravely turned and run every time i had to fight
listened to the silence as i spoke without a voice
turned away from violence if i didnt have a choice
eagerly i slumbered as i wasted precious breath
on moments duely numbered from birth until my death
i guess what im implying in my own distorted view
these words i am supplying although to me are true
are just constanations from a psychodelic brain
none have destinations or define me to be sane
just see it as a guide to defer against your own
so you wont have to hide and feel that your alone
inside we all are deeper wrapped in concious skin
a different shallow sleeper always lies within
The Journey from Crimson
Orange chakra on stage two of the journey perennial sacrum’s waves getting longer
a sensual colour accomplished spraying moistening waters tides and you
the rider surfing growth in lengthening wave swell searching for meaning
riddles comprised enter-prized rising let flow webbed intermingled for
pleasure desire escape from orange agentic mushroom fields of human depravation
longing in what is here for now yet to arrive amber whiling push-pull of senses
Tangerine like Kama Sutra’s challenge in naked nocturnal novel nirvana mirrored
layers of sensual vital living skins the secretions the challenge breathlessness
ascending from carnelian climax from joyful attained building blocks on the path and
unfaltering voyage to peace condensing violence to kindness
27th `July 2016
This summer found men mortal
I’ll miss the better nature you find at the beach,
but goodness isn’t always a physical thing.
In the scene wherein we played,
—earlier this summer—
the sky was an azured theatre of taming heat
all colours seemingly washed too bright
and true to the ramping prophecies of science,
vital waterways shrank, and forests burned
with the devil’s own violence
Equal scales weigh though
both on the world’s beauty
and the miracles of men
though one’s a lower brand of perfection.
I know things of relative value when I see them, hold
and feel them, like the indisputable metric of gold
While nature has sand and majestic suns,
men, as sovereign masters of base elements
invented air conditioning, and Fruity Pebbles.
Should summer be invited back next year?
.
.
A song for this
the boys are back in town by thin lizzy
Mutually traumatic relationships,
like co-arising declarations of war,
codependent not listening aggression,
co-nonempathic hatred,
rabidly competitive systems,
nationalistic sociopathology,
pervasively dissociative mental illness,
deliberate maladministration
for growing degenerative subclimates
of mutually assured destruction,
Take us nowhere
toward understanding
why Earth
is otherwise a life evolving
revolving
spiraling space/time planet,
Much less a therapeutic direction
to resolve why
universal positive energy
is sometimes win/win healing co-relational
recreating co-incidental regenerative events
growing resonance
and resilient holistic interdependent systems
rather than ZeroZone nothing,
Why mutually assured listening
develops win/win resiliently healthy relationships
predicting NonZero Zone regenerational evolution
of complex interdependent systems
and co-relational networks
of positive correlational energy webs
Revolving
regenerating
spiraling into resonant health care integrity
and potential for wealthy
robust communication,
mutual deep learning,
wide multicultural compassion.
Win/Lose competitions are what lie in-between
Win/Win health and Lose/Lose pathology,
between regenerative and degenerative
waiting for our further cooperative investments
in mutual bicameral intelligence,
ego/eco-bilateral
binomial relationships,
Dipolar co-arising Both/And feelings
and bipolar differentiating Either/Or cognitions,
mutually assured resonance
more than antagonistic dissonance,
war,
violence,
anthro-supremacist continuance
of self/other punishing violence
against EarthClimate wealthy health.
Light, oh my lord, where is the light?
In search of light in each all direction
I could find the black only.
Oh, where is the light!
In which cave or the corner
May I find it, the light
Light is!
Which is the season
Whether it is summer or the rain,
Where, where, where!
I could get the light of love and
Compassion here, in this
World.
In search of light I could find
The Naf river ,Oh my God!
It is flooded with the human blood.
I'm crying my lord with such
A scenario.
The buddhist, they forget the Buddhisim
The peace and Tranquility and
Killing the innocent people
Of the other religion.
What a pain my lord I could
Hardly bear it.
I focus me to Isreail and Palestain but
Could get nothing but sorrow and pain and the
Kim the king of N.Korea
He is playing with the venom of
World war.
I could see the terrorist activities
And the flow of blood each
Everywhere.
How could the people live
In peace with their mind.
Oh my lord, Please, please, please
Look at them to give
Them the divine flash of light of thee
To come in peace and
Tranquility
(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)
The Candyman Can’t
Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not. We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.
One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole. Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner. Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.
The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm? Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars? How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm? The problem goes away!
This ruse is known as “equity”. It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason. What to do? Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers. Such affairs
drag on for years. The lawyers? They get theirs!)
Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now. It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices. Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street? He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”
But Bridgman lost. One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough. Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey. The latter
has lots of lowly types. It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.
Hopkins just fumed, and dove for his iron,
Bud’s gun barked, and he fired right then,
The Pinkerton’s charged at the gunshot,
And stared down on the lifeless corpse of Hopkins.
“Sorry I could not get him for you alive,”
Was all Bud said when they looked on the scene.
“You’ve got your man, you’ll get your reward,
but there is some place else that I have to be.”
The very next morn bud arrived at the ranch,
and found Henry working out in the corral,
he said,”I thought about the things that you said,
there’ll be no more trouble from Hopkins now.”
Henry drew near, stared down the young man,
Said,”Well at least now you might have a chance.
But it doesn’t explain what you’re doing here,
why you dared to come back here again?”
Bud just frowned, said,”With things how they are,
I need to find myself a living, of course.
You gotta big spread and I thought maybe
you could use a man who can break a horse.”
Henry went silent for a very long time,
then rubbed at his chin, deep in thought,
“And were I to hire a man like yourself,
how can I ever be sure what I’ve got?”
Bud swallowed hard, and said to Henry:
“If you doubt that my words are sincere,
Then I’ll work my first year for just room and board,
To prove to you that I want to be here.”
Henry just smirked as he heard the words.
“How ’bout I start you out at half-pay.
You give me six months without a slip up,
then I’ll know the truth in what you say.”
Bud shook on it, could not help but smile,
but then Henry said one more thing:
“Also, you’re not to make eyes at my girl,
until I decide that she’s an age for courting!”
Who is that woman in the mirror?
The big blank eyes.
The mouth that never smiles.
The hands, always shaking.
I don't know her.
What can I do?
I am afraid of everything and everybody.
I only want to be home.
But I don't want to be alone.
I don't feel safe.
Why am I always crying?
Anxiety attacks that take my breath away.
Flashbacks of violence, so lifelike.
My body still hurts from his fists.
I don't know why I can't heal.
When will I be me again?
He stole who I was.
He broke me into a million pieces.
Then he gave the pieces back.
I don't know where the last piece is.
Where will I end up?
If I don't have that last piece,
Am I still a survivor?
I'm a blank image.
Alone. Unsafe.
Crying, anxiety, flashbacks and hurting.
Unhealed.
Please tell me,
Is that really "surviving"?
Children walked down the street
And, in curiosity, picked up a rock
An adult, suddenly appeared
And gave the noggin a firm knock
...when violence ruled
Little tykes trying to grow and learn
Would stumble into angry fields
An adult, suddenly appeared
And destroyed what hope builds
...when violence ruled
Young teens would begin an adventure
Trying to find a way out of the cave
An adult, suddenly appeared
And delivered a beating to the grave
...when violence ruled
Brand new adults built homes on values
Practiced to secure detainment
An adult, suddenly appeared
Showing the mirror of perfect containment
...when violence ruled
Finally, a new generation was birthed
Determined to clear the curse of the line
An adult, suddenly appeared
Yielding to the power of LOVE over the mind
...when violence bowed
Written by Trudy Schrader
I hold you.
And bite you.
You drip down my chin..
I really just didn't know
Where to begin
My teeth as they sink
Through the layers of joy
Encouraged by lentil
Enraptured by soy
There are moments and layers
In life we should cherish;
None ever so blissful
As encountering relish
Or the pickly thing
Or the goo that's so cheesy
Yet it's not, we're OK
My conscience still frees me
For a burger is life.
With it's multiple facets
And the creatures we love..
Well, they're more than just assets
So dive in and be free
To celebrate goodness
Free from harm or distress
Something wholesome and bloodless
Your body will thank you
The planet will send
A sigh of relief
To some four legged friend
We can all live together
Without fear or distressing
For a burger is life.
It's the truth. And no messing.
Jinjagoliath
30th July 2023