Long Welt Poems
Long Welt Poems. Below are the most popular long Welt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Welt poems by poem length and keyword.
A woman at the gas station
is unremarkable besides
her name tag reading Clarity
and her teeth, saying never mind.
She asks if I need a receipt.
I say no, like I'm not collecting
evidence in the glovebox of a car
that only drives in reverse.
The smell of ethanol summons
June bugs: last summer, I siphoned
moons from my mother's backup generator,
poured it over my cereal to see if dreams
dissolve as fast as sugar. Her energy—
like Marlboro Lights in a freezer
next to a jar of cursed pig's feet,
was not good.
I made do, and avoided the dues
of an HOA family with trimmed contracts
and shaggy lawns. I'd suck on ice cubes
until my jaw locked into something
more useful than language.
The shape of now is the welt
from a seatbelt I forgot to wear
in a car I no longer own.
It's the raisin I found stitched
into the lining of my bra—
a pocket universe, sweet and rotting.
It's saying, I'm fine
in Morse code
with a spoon that isn't there,
and a sink. It's yesterday's grapes
fermenting in my purse,
waiting for communion I keep
missing.
Even now, I kiss the air between
this breath and the next,
like it wasn't blood magic all along,
like I might whisper the password
to get us out of purgatory.
Still, I leave the gas station
without a receipt, but I did get
a lottery ticket guaranteed to win—
if only I forget why I bought it.
Grab that whimsey, don't wipe the blow.
The feeling, of fear, starts to grow
Creepy tendrils that dart around
In your head, they can't be bound
Unleash the power of your poetry,
That is what empowers the poet free.
Let it flow from heart to page,
And let your imagination rage.
Sunlight illuminates the abyss of my heart.
But gloom lurks, for betrayal shreds apart.
The simplicity that I used to consider dear.
Leaving me stranded and packed with fear.
An emptiness consumes my soul,
Yet an urge to write, to brand me whole,
To pour out my pain, my sorrow,
To find a glimmer of cheer for tomorrow.
My pen becomes my only friend,
As I strain to comprehend
The reasons behind the deceit,
The lies that brought me to defeat.
But in my words, I find a way,
To heal, to mend, carpe diem the day,
To rise above the welt and pain,
To find the light, to love again.
The valley of my heart may be scarred,
But with my pen, I can rebuild, discard
The darkness that once held me down,
And rise up, stronger, without a frown.
Stop resisting and start writing.
The pen is bleaker than the sword.
Each draw, each stroke, each sighting.
Unshackle the force of your words.
“as we passed her she did wilt
which caused in us sense of guilt
since our stance perhaps did cause
to put her heart’s joy on pause
though we’re gentle, not hostile
we diminished her soul’s smile
since our aura as she viewed
scent of love did not exude” —Unseeking Seeker
the passersby wailed in laughter
with a blink of an eye she sought the here after
prompting hatred she'd rid and had been
gone the sun's soul beaming within
left are the pieces contusion once dealt
exemplification deep purple, blue/black welt
anticipating that it is all in the imagination
innuendo scorns, undertones as intimidation
the nuances of facial expression and body language
an undercurrent hides beneath an open bridge
the windy storm blows farther its opaque steam
whilst whispering mantras gently stream
uttering phonemes begin and she softly chants
deep breaths balm lofty thoughts further enhance
‘I choose and listen how my inner voice druthers,
and not the random opinions of others’
forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds—perfume
on the heel that has crushed it, where sweet aromas loom
Sasha began to close
She felt her legs buckle
She was now on the ground
in a fetal position
Her breathing came faster
She could feel a heartbeat in her throat
Bare and exposed
She tried to retain
A tiny sliver of her former self
Fingers clawed at her.
They were all trying to take another piece.
Family and friends, for she was their rescuer.
When they needed anything, she was their go-to woman.
Sasha closed tighter, her skin began to bruise and welt.
They all wanted a piece of her; demanded it.
She had already given all she could, more than she should have.
There was nothing left.
No joy, no happiness, only sadness.
Her hair dipped over her sorrow, concealing her pain.
She wanted to be alone, demanded it.
All aboard and fasten well our seat belt
Focus on new flight, trip for new success
Travel light, sit tall, forget fears we’ve felt.
Our past storms and snow in life will all melt
Over dream-clouds we might fly in express
All aboard and fasten well our seat belt.
Leave heavy luggage or past loads we’ve dwelt
This year, we might live like prince or princess
Travel light, sit tall, forget fears we’ve felt.
Bring faith and prayers for temptations’ pelt
Wear God’s love—In our journeys, He will bless
All aboard and fasten well our seat belt.
For strength and quick healing when we get welt
Trust God and His compassion’s stewardess
Travel light, sit tall, forget fears we’ve felt.
Renew ways life's turbulences were dealt
Everybody, get ready…avoid stress
All aboard and fasten well our seat belt,
Travel light, sit tall, forget fears we’ve felt.
housed within mine impenetrable hermetically
sealed invisible bubble
draped with blackened Hades
hued habiliment therein dwelt
sinister saboteur mastermind marauder of the Hubble
who demanded sacrifice to traverse
river styx with unadulterated gelt
which known phantasmagorical
donning double dutchmen's britches
whose piercing fiery ocular presence unseen but felt
thine true self amidst the aftermath
from Armageddon rubble
astride charred global ruins
entire civilization did melt
entire planet prognosticated
by Maya sages with 11th hour stubble
birthed this Darth Vader nemesis
with evil upon earth he did pelt
annihilating mankind, the derelict species
that fueled trouble
hence evil twin appointed apocalyptic
malevolence spelt
with mass crematorium desecration
left horrific blistering welt!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
countdown to *****sapiens extinction
predicted millenniums in past
to occur December 21 two thousand
and twelve after common era
whereby catastrophic spark detonating
inferno incinerating blast
eradicating extant flora and fauna
bereft sans hegira
with no means to interrupt the dusk key die
since dawn of civilization cast.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
impossible to escape ominous predetermined
fate of human rat race
nor turn back hands of time with origin
of species on clock face
thus ticking closer to hour of doomsday
without faith to brace
allowing, enabling and providing Gaia
to redeem terrestrial space
vestiges of teeming billions soon
erased criminal minds without a trace
forcefully relinquishing simians
planetary stranglehold amazing grace
proffering tabula rasa for another
dominant species to claim the place.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
sirens promulgate emergency toward
impending inescapable cataclysm
yet no place to run or hide lest one boards
a rocket light-years away
which makes suspense thrillers
birthed by John Grisham
enviable plot to keep total Earths’
destruction at bay.
Form:
Wie reist man seinen Träumen nach?
Anziehender Leichtsinn, sing´ mir ins Herz.
Ich will mich dir dann gern´ darbieten,
ganz ursprünglich und rauschhaft.
Der unzureichenden Lebendigkeit
begegne ich mit Mythopoesie,
vermischt mit Feminismus.
So bin ich alles, was ich haben kann:
eine Ganzes und keine halbe Welt.
Das vorherrschende Geschmacksklima:
ich kotze es aus, ganz, ganz leicht;
nichts gelangt auf meine Schuh´.
Dem Gesetz des Risikos verpflicht´ ich mich.
Ausreichende Lebendigkeit: Komm! Komm!
Gemeinsam bezwingen wir das Dauerhafte, das Unreine.
Ursprüngliches Auftreten mit belebten Augen,
und die Ethik der Großzügigkeit im Gepäck:
für immer das Lebendige preisen,
so reist man dem Wahren nach,
so geht man durch die Welt.
Dieser Weg, nur er allein,
führt uns zu unserem einzigen, wahrem Glück.
Man nennt ihn auch Ehrlichkeit.
Form:
Listening to folk records in my room all day,
as a kid, to another world I'd withdraw
to the streets of Laredo, as cold as the clay.
Later, in music I heard, in pictures I saw,
the Irish roots that our happy and sad songs betray,
like the bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.
So I raise a toast, to the wonder they bring -
the melodies of Ireland that make us all sing.
Like Johnny, I'd come marching proudly home again.
Then, once I heard Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye play,
it seemed then, that in bloodshed no one can win,
and from that gentle, green country, so far away,
I acquired a notion, that all war is a sin,
a message in the wind, still blowing today.
So, here's to peace, and the end of war's sting,
and the sad songs of Ireland, that make us sing.
It's a joy to laugh and it's fun to dance and drink.
I say, "welt the floor your trotters shake".
One for all and all for one, our glasses clink -
another noggin of whiskey for heaven's sake.
So raise your voices and give us a wink,
belting funny ditties like Finnegin's Wake,
and here's to fun, and that sort of thing,
and glad songs of Ireland that make us sing.
A voice sings softly in the still afternoon,
and, under the trees, my mind starts to dream,
"who is it singing this beautiful love tune?",
I wonder as through the leaves sunlight streams.
It's Liam Clancy singing Eileen Aroon,
sending me somewhere like heaven it seems.
So, here's to love, and songbirds on the wing,
and the tender songs of Ireland we sing.
~Chasing Bigfoot~
Across the Bayou Waters
Into vast trails of wilderness
I follow a sound, a sullen scent
---footprints
He was out there,
hairy large and in charge
Drugs under the beastly moonlight
Heavy torrents swept me in
Deep, down and dark
Under a hidden den
Between the moon and stars
I gaze into a world unknown
A comparison of salt water and bonnets
Lord of the forest deep
Entrapped in a romantic secret sonnet
Over the corner in every shadow
Red Auburn hair, above a 12 foot pair
Daring to face the lone gallows
In one peek
I observe it was not made by men
The fear became excitement
It offered a moment to think
I don't know if it wants to injure me
It sniffs me repeatedly,
Smearing my skin with his nose
This type of behavior, this smell
Began to arouse my rose
Rough nails grip around my neck
Forest flavored lips
Unravelling a taste unhuman
The touch erupts and fills me with fear
Still, I long to linger near
Sunrise starts with a grin
Revolving around the mood
Upon his long coat of shrooms
Without fear I stroke his thick fur
Rough and sweet I repeat
Living or dying, I stay
To love the fear-driven inside
Day after day
Deep and gray, life fades
Then becomes elusive
11 years the sun hides
Dark eyes, hold me all night
This wild man, by the bedside
Cries from the woods before sunset
I follow----
Somewhere behind hidden walls
The woods stand tall
Flowers welt from this burning love
My heart owned by the sasquatch
Though rapid dreams and streams,
I scream
Of Big Foot and I
By: PD
Home is the word we love to hear:
The dreams are never over,
They are always a break through: after the tears:
An x is lodge in our heads was it the,
rock, a tree, or the hidden board,
Time welt serve: time to cash in
Time uproot the rocks
that tree and those loose boards
would this be a happy ending?
You had choose the life of crime
The crime didn’t nail itself:
Every day a black man
Under the age of twenty
Pulls the trigger, they turned off the light
He longs to return to his mother womb:
I see the love of their mothers
While she holds their hands at age three
at age twenty three I see the replacement :
the chrome bracelets: the resentment
Neflex the new society wants us to believe that orange is the new black:
**“Our ancestors have invented, we can at least innovate.”
? Amit Kalantri**
*“Oh Child
Look within
Find your ForeMothers
Find them
Find them”
? Malebo Sephodi**