Long Words fail Poems

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


Premium Member China Travelogue 2

Journey starts
Kunming portraits;
Highway song


Here old and new
Merge yet apart;
Vignettes juxtapose


China welcomes
Both ancient and modern;
Sign of the times


Tour group confronts
Unfamiliar grounds;
Rough edges grind


Quaint ways of old
Ancient tales displaced;
Modern day norms intervene


Spectacular vistas
Natural wonders;
Man seems insignificant


Flood tide drowns
Flushing away;
False assumptions destroyed


Gust of wind
Reveals new passages;
Knowing does not know


Mountain peaks
Valleys well-clustered;
Fertile grounds well-used


Everywhere we go
People of all tribes;
A Chinese pageant


Human nature speaks
Polite tones sway;
Touch of humble quiet


These Chinese people:
Kind, warm, hospitable --
A touch of home


Himalayan backdrop
Mountains for company;
Melodrama purged


Methinks that I
Could hideaway here;
Unknown, undisturbed


One sure currency:
The Chinese language;
Pervasive, ubiquitous 


Vast is the land
Far as our eye span;
Beyond imagery


Trades of all sorts
Risk is a sure thing;
Living is risky business


Ancient towns
Showpieces that speak;
In steady silence


Rivers and streams
Winding into quaint towns;
Ancient as old time


Pulse of the moment
Camera shutter snapshots;
Still life captured


Picture posture
By this arched bridge;
Keepsake souvenir


Sensory pursuits
Old Town bazaars;
Hasty trinkets acquired


Silver artisans
Hammer away;
Creations of white metal


Bric-bracs scattered
Awaiting curious eyes;
That impulse buy in tow


Round this village
Tourist show piece;
Modern commerce prevails


Bargains await
Hungry customers;
Weathered Oriental wares


In this roundabout square
Locals and tourists stride;
Seek new-found distractions


Spring time weather
Hot and dry and windy;
Like home without humidity


Our tour guide --
Cautions that silver jewellery
Best bought from reputable shops


Cheap price often
Compromises quality;
Authentic stuff cost much more


Lessons unlearnt
On-the-road trade routes;
Return odd regrets


A silver bangle
Heavy with 99 percent;
Quality speaks tons


Scattered eateries
Street vendors offer;
Glimpses that never die


So much to see,
Words fail description;
Feelings explore facts


Only ten days here
We see yet do not see;
Only vague interpretations


All too soon
Sojourn over;
Yunnan in mind mists


Leon Enriquez
31 May 2014
Singapore
Form: Haiku


Bound Hands Holding a Crushed Heart

I hear it though a friend
and my knees begin to bend.
"It's Sasha"

My eyes grow,
the world begins to slow.
my heart stops beating
logic is fleeting

Hands quiver,
a gut-wrenching thought
clings hold in my chest

Vision blurrs,
tears well up,
lungs get tight.

8 pills she took
for hope she forsook.
Not one word on her pain
I was cluless again.

Failure floods my lungs
I seem to have lost my tongue
feet slowly plodding foward,
the little left of my mind disordered.

Words fail me
why didn't I foresee.
Knowing she is alive,
makes some fear deprive.

Too much unknown
the worry has grown.
England is her land.
and stuck, here I stand.*

I wish to reach across the sea
and tell you how okay it will be.
To wrap my arms around you
and make the pain undo
you from its tight grasp

all day your on my mind
hoping for some refuge you'll find.
craving to alter the past
wondering the possible contrast.

I could've done more
to express that you are cared for.
to show your not alone.
If only i'd known.

Sasha.
you are beautiful
you are smart
you are silly 
you are playful
you are caring
you are adorable
you are honest
you are a sister to me
your laugh makes everyone smile
you are sensitive
yet you are strong
you are pure as an angel
yet wings tainted from pain**
you lift others up. 
no matter your down.

If my words cant reach,
then strain I beseech.
you aren't alone
we love you down to the bone.
And nothing can change that.

Sweet
Adorable
Sensitive
Honest
Affectionate

Even the stronest flower
must rest it's petals.
Just remember 
there is a time
for you to open again. 
Moonlight glistening off the dew
resting on your reborn arms.
nothing as beautiful as you can stay hidden forever.
so let us in,
let us warm you from the freeze,
let us help you streach you weary leaves.

Sasha,
We all care about you.
and we are all here for you.
you will never be alone in this,
all you must do is reach out,
and you will find arms waiting to catch you
from your fall. 


You are stong
You can do this.
I love you flower.
I love you Sasha.
 





{*So far away- Avenged Sevenfold}
{** Angels fall by Breaking Benjamin}

Premium Member Musing Lately

Musing Lately

Let’s just say
with my husband now having heart troubles and my 
being old (& bedridden while waiting for my new prosthetic-leg) makes for on-going thinking, remembering, observing, reflecting, tentatively concluding, believing
how the ineffable ultimately rules…and one’s

language (for all its commanding need to be used with a true Love )  finds                                                                                                                                        w
                                             o
                                                    r
                                                          d
                                                        s

to be less than their expressive task                 f           
                                                                      a
                                                                       i 
                                                                        l
   (despite even some                                       i
    divine inspiration)                                     
                                                                        n 
                                                                            g  
to cast some light brighter
than the humble votive’s flame flickering in the heart —
Or more than the one tear — felt but unseen' — in the corner of the eye, bringing along its cathartic story …ready to  fall down over the cheek…
Or to realize  (especially after 40 years togerther) that devotion lives well beyond a 3-word statement  in heights carried there by a tried, spiritual touching of our auras in the room: lives aligned for better or worse in the profound music that our closeness creates.  The poems are born in being or feeling before the written.



(c) sally young eslinger 7/13/24**    
In my youth, i was a devotee of James Joyce and Samuel Beckett. (Beckett even sent me a hand-written letter in response to one i sent him.). I pretty much memorized “Waiting for Godot.”  Joyce and Beckett both saw words dissolving — into the ineffable.  Some powerful poems lead us there, but that there, I’ve found is in the unspeakable.

Premium Member In the shadows of a fractured consciousness, where words fall like shattered glass

In the shadows of a fractured consciousness, where words fall like shattered glass,
The man, unable to articulate, to express with clarity, retreats into action.
His thoughts, like wild horses, gallop through the vast and tumultuous plains of his mind,
Yet his tongue, bound by the chains of a limited lexicon, stumbles, falters, and falls into silence.
In the theater of existence, where every gesture becomes a desperate cry,
The vocabulary of action is tethered to the body,
Each movement a scream, each breath a prayer,
Yet the silence of true understanding hovers, vast and unmoving.
When words fail to bridge the chasms of human connection,
Violence erupts like a wild, primal, and relentless storm,
A language of fists and fury, born of frustration,
The man's body becomes his voice, his weapon is his extended lexicon.
In the bleak landscape of limited expression,
Weapons become the dictionaries of the inarticulate,
Cold metal and sharp edges writing sentences of blood and pain,
For in the heat of conflict, the unspoken finds its violent release.
Men tread shadowy paths, their souls burdened by the weight of miscommunication,
The frustration of unspoken words etching scars upon the fabric of their beings,
Seeking solace in the harsh clarity of confrontation,
An incomprehensible lexicon that speaks in echoes of fear and aggression.
In the swirling depths of consciousness, the storm's fury continues,
A symphony of silent screams and unspoken desires,
Bound by the fragile chains of an inadequate vocabulary,
Eyes that ask what can't be answered, hands that seek what can't be grasped.
Yet in this maelstrom of silent agony, a glimmer of understanding remains,
A hope that beyond violence, beyond primal cries,
There lies a place where words can heal, where silence gives way to connection,
Where the fragmented pieces of the soul can unite in the harmonious dance of true expression.
For in the heart of the storm, in the eye of the silent tempest,
Lies the possibility of finding one's voice, of breaking the chains,
Transforming weapons back into words,
Reclaiming the language of humanity, the melody of understanding,
In the perfect blend of hearts, where silence no longer reigns.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member We Owe It To Our Doctors

We owe it to our doctors 
 


We owe it to our doctors… 
The ones who took it to be part of Sun Pharma’s greater mission;
 
To prevent disease rather cure
Cure and control if that happens at all; 
Defying comforts of air conditioned hospitals,
confronting heats and chills
of seasonal tones while sitting in villages;
A zeal to serve those in pain
having set besides the monitory gain;
 
A cavalcade of patients all round the day 
Intense work, putting impatience at bay;
Educate and listen to endless woes
Mental, social apart from somatic; 
What poverty jostled them into 
have no means to seek medical care;
 
We doctors being the sole healers...
 
We do what we do;
Not for money, not for name 
responsibility is an assorted game ;
Had everyone taken to hospitals 
and been part of corporates that work for profit; 
And Ignored distress of rural and slums
humanity would have scrounged to bums.
 
Words fail to say what we take back ;
The smallest salving touch 
that makes the tender souls smile; 
The tranquil looks of the patient 
that soothes us deep down the heart;
A good night’s sleep 
and utmost content above all, 
Limitless goodwill, enormous blessings ;
No mathematics can compute,
no callipers could measure ;
 
Beyond the prowess we go ...
 
Meeting people to explore what more we could do 
Take them to specialists, to the institutions; 
Make them aware about Govt schemes
Involve volunteers from within the community;
Bridging the gap, reaching the unreached
Citing the logic, what cannot be preached ;
 
Although a tiny drop in vast ocean 
but very tender and precious ;
However small the team we maybe,
We proffer colour to the sky 
Imbue the aroma of empathy far and wide;
We can move mountains with a solo touch 
and change course of feral winds; 
 
With our staunch determination;
and incessant efforts;
Combating disease and ailment
Countering the social taboos;
We do what we do
and will continue doing so.
 
We doctors are warriors braving the front 
Have our families accompanying in this battle;
 
We owe it to our nurses and drivers as well; 
We owe it to our doctors !
 

Written Sept 24, 2020 
© Dr Upma A. Sharma


Poetry Portraits Ii

I can’t afford for this one to fail

She was just a stranger

And somehow we ended up in the same 

Space and time

Now, mother nature is taking over once more

And I am admiring your attributes

The strands of your hair

The hazel circle around her eyes

Creates a hypnotic state of mind

Telling her all my secrets

And sharing all my treasures

Hoping this was not a deceptive choice

As your hips are parallel to the skyline

A path that started in 1900 has finally converged

Which was first the thought or the path?

Is she the one of my dreams or not?

As a lovely smile warms its direction to me from that beautiful face

The chance meeting was an ingenious plan

To heal the battered dreams caused by the one before her

Glimpses on the pain, just a blur now

A professional hunter 

She shot down all the competition

Without a quiver or arrow

You are

The difference between a soul and a soul mate

Alone and love

One to the other the moment we met

Scatter the roses around this bedroom

Let’s save the beauty of this moment

My words fail to capture,

Her tender beautiful feature,

I’d rather wait as a mute spectator

As beauty beg to be define by her

It is her signature

The owner of the promissory note for my heart

Is that the reason why my heart has been aching all this time

I excavated my town

And finally I had good luck in an unexpected and fortunate discovery in you

Swirling burgundy around the crystal

Dinner by candlelight

Taken aback by the glow

Nothing remains but the fiery flame around us

Eternal beauty and grace there she is vulnerable as a tear drop

Tears of joy because she gave me a shot

I used to wonder where love lives

Would I hear drum patterns if I got nearer

For sure Lady Loneliness is no longer here

It is been more than difficult trying to find you

A symphony created as our hands rip through layers to acquire nakedness

More than unique

We stood there so close together

Holding onto a dream realized

We knew the choice wasn’t whether we loved;

Rather, to what extremes

Are you the one that I can depend on when I’m at my weakest moment?
Form:

Word Hoard

They say if you don’t use a thing for a year
It’s time to get rid of it, just to be clear
Feel free to sell it or give it away
But to get clutter free, just don’t let it stay

So, I checked my garage for stuff I could lose--
and found hundreds of words I simply don’t use!

Lilliputian and Sprightly stood on a shelf
Elbow-to-elbow with some wry little elf
Bucolic and Bumpkin were squirreled away
Beneath a big bale of bright yellow hay 

Garish and Gaudy were in a glittery box
with Trinkets and Baubles set with fake rocks
Surreptitious and Unobtrusive tried to avoid being seen
But I caught 'em sneaking off with Clandestine

Beyond these loose words, which filled many a bin 
Lay whole turns of phrase like Much to My Chagrin
I held up to the light a Gossamer Veil
Then dumped it in a Perfidious Betrayal

An Ethereal Cloud, glued to the ceiling
I scraped off with an Ambivalent Feeling
I rolled back the rug to see what I'd missed,
There before me stretched a Yawning Abyss

Into a huge crate, these big words I did toss
Bobbing on top were Flotsam, Jetsam and Dross
Fatigued by these labors, I took a short break
But that little respite may have been my mistake

Soon I was deep in most Pensive Reflection
On how Assiduously I had built this collection
In crept Myriad Doubts about so brash a move
What if I meet some Cad I need to Reprove?

What if some Craven Cur should Incur my Wrath
But words fail me due to this Ill-Chosen Path?
Well, soon that old crate was quite empty once more
And cluttered again were bin, shelf, drawer and floor

But one thing has changed, this is Palpably Clear
My Leviathan Word Horde I now Deeply Revere
Intrepid and Dauntless, I sling without fear
Iota and Mote.. I dust off once a year!


____________________________

by Brian McClain - Feb 2, 2016
Form: Rhyme

Anxiety

Here it is again
That sudden uneasiness
The alarms are going off in my body
My heart begins to pound
The blood rushes to my head
I can't think clearly
My mind starts to crave safety from something...
In my mind I tell myself, "It's time to go
Time to get away from here"
And I'm not even sure if it's legit, the cause of my fear
But it's there and I can't shake it

I can barely talk

My mouth has become an inadequate tool
An indecisive thing
In the process of speaking I become 
a child digging through his alphabet soup with a tongue for a spoon
Rearranging the letters into words
And trying to pick the right one like a victim staring through the glass at the line up 
Is it one, two....five, six?
Which one of these will deserve a sentence?
Not knowing what I should say feels like a crime....
And when my words fail I fall into the habit of judging myself for it
I stutter
Skip words
My larynx becomes a boa constrictor wrapping itself around the them and turns my throat into a bottleneck that they can't slip through
Sometimes after having an awkward moment I replay the situation in my head and think I made myself look like a fool
I break out in a sweat
And my body burns with embarrassment 
When I'm in public and I feel out of place
I pan my eyes out over the faces in the crowd
Not wanting to simply keep my head down 
But at the same time not wanting to maintain eye contact
Not wanting to invite other people's attention or whatever else may be coming
I hint of laughter nearby catches my attention
I look around...
Is that for me?
So much insecurity....



This thing...it causes me to treat people like caution lights and a part of me can't help but feel that it's necessary and that I need to do that but other times I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn't so hesitant to interact
If I could just be easy going and let things flow but I'm too restrained
Too cautious
Too scared to trust myself and be bold or trust those around me because I'm not sure what will happen 
Sometimes I wish I could be free from this thing that hinders me
My dear, ever present anxiety

You're a Regular Mother Teresa

Sensitive skin 
Scraped by sensitive information
If I don't know who I am, then what will I tell everyone? 
A scuba diver without his mask is just a body in water 
A father without a child is just a stranger 
A lion's head on the wall is a symbol of wealth, 
Not strength
If I don't know who I am 
Then what will people say about me when I'm dead? 

How could this possibly have happened to me 
With the apple in the pig's mouth?
It’s not as red as my cheeks when I’m around you 
But it’s fresher than the lines in my head to try and impress you 
But you’re still my good luck charm 
And always will be 

And how could you be God with all those rips in your pants?
The doctor said, sometimes words fail
But I need to trust you 
When your holding the scalpel in your hands 

But how could you be God when you need a dog to protect your land?
The doctor said, sometimes words fail
The doctor said, sometimes words fail 
But I have to choose to trust you 
When you’re the one holding the scalpel in your hands 

If you wanna be a leader,
You have to lead once and a while 
Part of a lion’s prowess 
is standing tall on the highest rock
When no one else will 
If you wanna be a hero 
You have to save something once and a while 
And writing letters and putting them on doorsteps 
Is not the same

I wish you held me as close
As you hold the pill bottle to your side 
It's so sardonic how you act like it's nothing to depend on them 
If you wanna be a hero 
Then you have to save something once and a while 
And the way your pills have given you a new life 
Is not the same 

A preacher without a story is just a scammer 
A lawyer without a paycheck is just a liar
And myself without defining traits 
is just a shell of what I could've been 
If you wanna be a beautifier, 
You have to feel beautiful once and a while 

Since when did hating ourselves become satire?
Only when it boils over, is when we yell to cease fire 
And I’ve never cared to be popular
But everyone loves having fans 
And how could you be God 
as such a harsh judge of character 
without a gavel in your hands?

After the Credits Rolled

Three years deep into freedom
And yet perhaps as tied down now as I was then
Scars are scars because they do not vanish
Fade as they might, that skin is numb forever

As a being made of scar tissue
My arm and back are dulled to this new world
Perhaps my brain and heart as well
As cortisol is as potent as any blade

I once thought it would be over that night
That when the credits rolled, the story would be completed
But do we ever wonder how characters feel
Once their plots are complete and they must go home?

Life goes on after the credits roll
We pick up the pieces left behind and build something new
A shelter from the strong winds and driving forces
That led us on our hero's journey to begin with

So the scars you inflicted on me remain
Where old haunts and new vistas
Can be smeared and tarnished so easily
As a flash of gold appears and pulls a trigger

A simple sandwich in an ancestral cave
A seed-studded outlook witnessing long-passed wars
Your specter haunts the depths of my vision
As a permanent reminder of what once was

It's easiest to remember the good times
Where even in the depths of despair
Any golden rope could serve as a permanent waypoint
To huddle and form a shield against the cold

It's no longer the case
Happier memories are now stained with ice and gray
And even after three years
I have not advanced much further beyond where I was

I've barely noticed the years passing, to be honest
Whereas every day with you dragged so slowly
They all merely blend together now
Empty and clear

Thus words fail me more than ever
As gathering the same desperate drive to be happy
Becomes harder and harder to do
I have ascended to zero from a sea of negativity

Serotonin was returned to me
By a dashing warlord atop a frozen hill
Not altering my mind to fill it with false happiness
But rather unlocking parts of it I hadn't used it years

So I await the effects
Can I fade these scars so well that even I'm convinced?
Or will this terrible portrait you painted on my neurons
Be the subject of viewer adoration forever?
© Derek Chos  Create an image from this poem.

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