Long Whir Poems
Long Whir Poems. Below are the most popular long Whir by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whir poems by poem length and keyword.
Not a room for the waiting
or the receiving of the waiting,
but a room for a liquid thinking
a turgidity
that trickles through plastic tubes.
Is this where doors remain jammed
forever between Hospital floors?
Unseen, a wall clock drops
heavy packages of time
into narrow chutes,
latex handprints are shaken
from sterilized surfaces.
The regularity
of beep and whir mechanically
sucks light in and out.
The yoke recalls it shell.
Desiccated fingers
squeeze a phantom pain-ball,
morphine as cold as ice
is delivered
to an unknown address.
A swish of a starched presence,
fingertips retrace
scorched fever-lines.
Eyes creep toward the voice.
Consciousness
scratches a self-portrait
upon a white neon sun,
a hesitant, primitive etching.
A nurse adjusts the electronic pulse
of a free-floating mind.
Space expands under her hands.
The anorexia is not conspicuous,
being half-submerged - just
breaking through.
She’s a powdered mirage,
her skin a hyaline sheer
drawn over a necklace
of clavicle bones.
She knows her chest
is returning to childhood,
she wants to shelter there,
to be her own child.
Her small breasts
are burgundy nipples,
buds made more prominent,
anchored as they are
to shipwrecked ribs.
Designer bling distracts.
Cameras whir, she poses,
hand paused on a hip denuded;
not resting there,
but stealthily carrying
a pinch of flesh toward a spotlight.
We collude with her,
applaud the way
she decorates a condition.
We know her emaciated beauty
is a mutual hoodwink.
We know that the closer to death
sexuality becomes,
the more rapacious our appetite;
the more we will wail,
as she slips
through our hungry eyes.
Knowing not the way, we yet pray
Seeking boons from God, every day
Goalposts shift, fickle our desire
Why not then make love our mainstay
Our ego once burnt in the pyre
Resolve’s steady to climb higher
Overcoming bondage to mind
Save God, there’s nothing we aspire
Sans desire, our past’s left behind
Head melds with heart in pathways kind
We’re poised thus, detached and vibrant
Memory too, we don’t rewind
Pure of heart with loving intent
Soul imbibes the divine current
Manifest as bliss explosion
Renewing moment by moment
By cessation of volition
Gain into heaven admission
All enabled, here now, within
When we grant love beats permission
We feel complete, heart free from sin
Blissful rapture tingles our skin
Boundaries blur, nodes within whir
Heart beckons, so we dwell therein
01-March-2022
DUCK AFTER DUMP PING THE DON
air ring ma thoughts - no matter aye ham
juiced one twenty first century mwm ape
serves as genuine s cape
to fly (during pitch black hours of night) and escape
burning effigies, where his jumbo jet, a sonic boom stick bewitching like Snape
temporarily tough feign ruffled feathers sans rape
pay shuss selfish lust, when world sliding down behavioral sink,
where he doth jape
and me as distant outlier from madding crowd i gape
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
At the sheer inanity
trumpeting strumpets donning an innate
prejudice and senselessness purr
blind faith toward self avowed demigod -- seize whore viz Cesar
his hair coiffed and puffed like it whir
wind blown kickstart ting mobs to stir
paying bodyguards to evict ruckus-causing murmur
oh...how the masses will let this country
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Go to hell in hand basket
and rack up stratospheric global debt
cause zing this one measly mortal male to fret
that totalitarian rule will force every man,
woman and child to march....het
two...three...four, while the billionaire
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
turns a third blind eye speeds away in his foo fighter jet
argh...heavens to Betsy, how did the fickle finger of fate let
this pompous ass
vacuumed majority votes across world wide net
to finagle vox populi, and groom hooligan nasty ruffian thugs
with smashed face s as his smart pet
bump ping uglies henchmen set
to create their own version of the tet
offensive, despite croup bawling ashen faced deportees
whose tears sentence innocent to po' ver tee branding indiscriminately vet
so culled unwanted ill eagle "aliens"
labored with nose to grindstone
fingers to the bone vainly, their american dream parched whence whet.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Long story short - pondering my rental circumstance will equal net
zero importance, and will be upended if this ret
chad, ewol, googly-eyed, gastronomic, narcissistic bullish don will set
the spark for world war three - via gone ah re: ha...ha...ha...to all vet
tureens within the american crucible melting pot - with backs whet
unless....Katrina and the Waves, superman or Sabrina can oust him yet!
I move slowly still closer
Melting in your attention to shock hopeful dawn
The shuddering clouds are smiling
Coaxing me to frenzy forward
The roots are growing on me, wrestling amongst each other
Clutching, wanting to become me
Calmly, knowingly...when seen, I hide
Revealing my weakness, my need to please
I am holding my own, guarded inside the nearest obscurity
I desire your dreams to tip me,
As I whir in your tempestuous dusk
Mirrors reflect monsters moving with intent
With appetites that no longer shame me
Facing you, full form
I am the longing phantom, flooding shadows,
Hiding my tears in my frustrations
I would release them if I knew for certain you would drink them
Tried to write something philosophical
But the strain on my brain was immense
Heard something whir then POP
Thought to myself, “that can't be good”
Felt fine otherwise
But suddenly was able to complete
Complex mathematical equations with ease
Never ever been accused of being a genius before
But all of a sudden I was able to figure out
The meaning of life among other amazing feats
Then a vision of my Mummy dear
Who passed away in nineteen-seventy
Reached out and patted me on the head
And said, “I'm so proud of you, my son”
“Was just talking to Albert Einstein yesterday
And he told me they were preparing
A special place of honour for you up here”
Belted myself on the side of the head
To make sure I wasn't dreaming
I wasn't dreaming!!!
Nearly swallowed my dentures
Started coughing and sputtering and reciting
“To be or not to be, that is the question”
Now I know I've heard that somewhere before
“Whether it is nobler...” Shakespeare perhaps
Well to make a long story short
When I return to the site
Be prepared to greet a whole different Jack
A much more sophisticated Jack
One that will absolutely blow you away
With his new found smarts
One that you'll feel honoured to call a friend
And if you believe all of this
I have some valuable swamp land in Florida
To offer you at a very good price!
The Great Hall of the People, Beijing.
Mozart tonight.
After the opera,
she appears above us,
stepping out of
a Chinese painting of heaven.
She is the Queen of the Night,
an Ibis arriving amid grackles.
After the performance
she descends into the foyer.
Camera’s whir, we press forward
to glimpse her.
A delicate Chinese girl.
We are stunned once more
by the power of the beautiful
to command our devotion.
This is her moment,
her Jupiter symphony
and perhaps her Requiem.
Where does she go from here?
Nothing can ever match this.
The powerful will be suspicious
of her art,
her vision of a world beyond,
blood stained
Tiananmen Square.
I Asked Myself A Rhetorical Question...
Asper daily expounding fostering
inchoate manifesting mod
er writ writing quality,
solitary scrimmage tackling
undertaking, yielding whir
ring, sputtering, kickstarting, and
buzz-feeding at competitive, communal
crowed did metaphorical trough,
where household named author's
top New York Times best seller
tier, overshadowing under
rated genre bending, breakout aspiring,
story board qualifying,
opportunistic newbie man
use script artful dodgers
mere dust collecting drafts,
anticipating to stir infectious interest
incumbent - at mercy,
tripwire activating quint
essential key, which anchors print
ting projected uncertain
popularity first edition,
awakening, guiding, nosing
asymptote analogy steering
reader toward nascent
scribe, where paper
back writer wannabe,
toils away incorporating subtle
(hook, line and sinker) techniques,
(albeit apropos literary
ploys, a true test tum ment,
viz sophisticated gambits
to massage late tint
prestidigitation abra ca dab rah,
sine non qua cogent
see kant, and tangent triggers
modest mien fortified, exemplified,
and downplayed akin
to unassuming Clark Kent
in his cape ably nonchalant
transformation into superman,
and/or more pointedly,
some original heft leant
to set apart striking
poignant implement
exhibited by aspiring
writer daily revising,
albeit gal or gent
his/her uniquely obscure
trademark, but
eventually keen agent
assays non-boastful writing style
im prim mature print,
sans unassuming swiftly tailored
harried style seduces seek
curing sincere overnight reverent,
well deserved kudos
comically marveling
at thee most im portent
salient strengths, per
hops hue moored opulent
quality instigates
affinity toward nascent,
bar riddle be, bill leading,
bud ding scrivener,
not necessary alluding
to a hypothetical outlier
thus, any similarity between the
above statement and
a living person perchance named
Matthew Scott Harris
purely coincidental.
I have an Ultra Quiet with a whir.
Frigidaire 24" Built-In White Dishwasher,
Energy saver, with hot and cold stir.
For a while it did purr.
Oh yes, they do make a dishwasher.
Naïve people believe what labels sell.
I use a lemon scent liquid gel
Those states; "No" pre-washing,
Leaves dishes sparkling.
All lies, it makes the dishes look like hell.
I have hard water in my home,
So, the liquid soap makes no foam.
Barnacles have formed,
Heating elements deformed.
It’s getting so old; I just don't know.
I think it can do the job, but woe.
Baskets are crumbling with rust, no more glow.
It’s ready to blow and overflow.
It’s an Ultra Quiet with a snore,
Frigidaire 24" Built-In White Dishwasher, for
Energy saving, but No, not any more,
I do need a new dishwasher to match my décor.
I'm tired of this dish washer, I’m done, I want it out the door.
3/5/2023
I'm an Ultra Quiet with a whir
Frigidaire 24” Built-In White Dishwasher
Energy saver
With hot and cold stir
Oh yes they do make a dishwasher
I’m getting so old they just don't know
They think I can do the job like a pro
Baskets are crumbling
Rust on everything
I'm ready to blow and overflow
Naive people believe what labels sell
They use a lemon scent liquid gel
States; “No" pre-washing
Leaves dishes sparkling
All lies, it makes the dishes look like hell
They have hard water in their home
So the liquid soap makes no foam
Barnacles have formed
Heating elements deformed
I'm tired of their complaints when they get home
I'm an Ultra Quiet with a snore
Frigidaire 24” Built-In White Dishwasher
Energy saver
No, not any more
Oh yes, they do need a new dishwasher
9/22/2015
Contest Name: A Tribute to a Major Appliance
Sponsor: Mary Oliver Rotman