Long Wounded Poems
Long Wounded Poems. Below are the most popular long Wounded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wounded poems by poem length and keyword.
One day, all these awesome wishes of this world
Will blossom in a red rose with fragrance
I will not look for me there,
Neither will I try to find you, anymore.
The need for fragrance is long gone from our lives,
All those letters only scar into the deep.
An all-enduring life only seeks into more sublimation, more humility
You are no longer there.
That story ended many, many years ago.
With an utter surprise, the wounded body of this world still questions
A life in agonizing pain of death, would it sustain the injury?
There is hunger of life while embracing the news of death
There is still traces of heartbeat of a baby in the womb
The world moves on through pain , loss and torments
For one blissful dawn
For those floating clouds in a clear blue sky
For a fragrant blooming flower.
25th December 2020
The rocks tripped me; I trod forward, upward to my lesson.
The wind chooses not to make its presence felt, yet.
The sun bursts gloriously into the flat, baby-blue, sky.
The red brown earth held its moisture greedily.
The effort shows in pulse and perspiration,
a flush blooms on cheeks unused to color.
The house appears abruptly, from a froth of greenery.
The wind keeps its distance, as if sensing
its presence is not desired.
The golden sun valiantly attempts to breach the houses gloom.
The guardians of house, home, and ether, leap forth.
Stone griffins, stern, etched by acid rain, stand.
The earthly hounds dart wraithlike through clusters
of cluttering tomes,and out the door to greet me.I enter.
The plaster shouts syllables, displaying in a military bent.
The house hungers for light, a broom. Her feather-duster fright.
The corner china cabinet displays a human skull.
Into this room she walks, a spirit of air, scared by storm.
God’s sacred light leaps.... only in the instructors eyes;
from her disfigured form, blue orbs, full of mischief and the joy of flight, revel....
teacher, a wounded Aphrodite, smiles.
The crow arrived before the sunrise,
black wings dissolving inside the fog,
as if the morning itself
had forgotten how to exist.
The world was silent except for grief.
Even the trees stood still,
holding dead leaves
like old letters never answered.
I walked through the cold field alone,
carrying entire winters inside my chest.
There are sadnesses so deep
they no longer cry —
they simply become part of the weather.
The crow watched me carefully.
Not with fear.
Not with mercy.
But with the recognition
of another wounded creature surviving the dark.
And for one brief moment,
inside that endless gray mist,
I felt less abandoned
by the universe.
— Juliana Hoffmann Liska
Her smiles of valor encase her agony--
her fiery scars pound against her sanity
struggling in twisted ropes of silent screams.
A wounded Athena, she is a woman in chains
staring at her shattered reflections.
Her shades of red, they haven't seen--
tender shrieks buried under forced arms,
blurred visions of screaming tyranny.
A trampled magnolia, she is a woman in chains
rotting in her Carmen of morose ember.
Oh woman! You embrace scars with dignity,
ethereal flow of progeny in your hands,
your banished desires in shriveled ages
survive in spiral cobwebs of festered veins.
Her miserable existence in labyrinths--
she simmers courage in dried paranoia,
a streak of red blood, no longer she'd fear.
A goddess flickering amber lamps of hope
her essence flows through mankind.
Oh woman! Feel the celestial powers
preserved in your gracious bosom,
your afflicted pain nurtures patience
strong enough to bend heavenly tides.
A wounded Athena, a trampled magnolia
A rotting Carmen, a goddess she is..
The woman in chains pours forgiveness
filling oceans from azure exuberance,
her selfless heart of mellowed love
permeates Satan's abode with virtue.
The woman in chains wears sacrifice,
her gossamer veil embraces men's follies,
she carries the elixir of compassion,
ripples of hopes for scarred souls.
Oh woman! They oppress you in madness,
to your sanctity they bow in agitation,
the woman they know, the goddess they don't,
until you dust your timeless wings to fly again.
Pigtails loosen yet messed,
twisted by pliant fingertips
of evening’s devilry…
tracing her budding breasts,
embers gleam from a lamplight, dim…
his jerked breathing quickens to rake
this young, tender flesh---
from pink , blood red, to pale yellow... despicable!
Invading her territory,
the blister of muffled silence
grates adolescent wails,yet…
crazed feasting of desire remains.
She quivers under a toppled quilt
brushed in wounded cotton...despicable!
And while darkness slides on metal frame,
he riles, riles with abandon,
grinning under a sinister moon
arsenic as the sweat of male hunger
to ravage a girlish body... trembling, trembling
while her cupped mouth stutters,
‘Please step-dad, no!’
‘Hush…dear baby, I am your angel,
guarding you from evil wolves..despicable!
Quietly, he pins the knob of conquest
until the frail child's porcelain doll
splatters on the floor, and then…
.............
Re-Posted /1/2017
Contest: Let's Talk About It
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Let's not be afraid to make a stand
Against hate and bigotry on this land
Let's stop the hypocrites cold
Now. Let's repudiate their old
Ideas and their archaic and spurious values
Let's unmask them and expose their views
Sectarianism may be a fancy or ostentatious word
To talk about racism. But it is the same sharp sword
Which can decapitate and destroy good people
Bigotry is bad. May you be white, black or purple
Let's be against white prejudice
Let's be against black prejudice
Let's be against ignorance and intolerance
Let's vote for love, intelligence and common sense
Say NO, loud and clear to bigotry
Vote NO, against racism and hate
Vote for love, equality, and liberty
Expose and vote against the candidate
Who despises the Muslims, the Mexicans
The Syrians and the wounded Veterans
They are all our brothers and sisters
Who are suffering under strange situation
Let's vote against the bigots and the haters
Let's say NO to racism, and take action
At the voting booth. Let's vote for UNITY
And togetherness. Together: we are strong
Divided: we are weak, stupid and wrong
Let's find no excuses, let's defeat the followers
Of Hitler, Mussolini, the Third Reich, the haters
Who are sneaky, deceitful, duplicitous, and shady
We are ONE against the bullies of this country
Let's vote for LOVE, freedom, liberty, and fraternity
Let's vote against sectarianism, hate, and bigotry
Today, tomorrow, and forever
Love is eternal; love is better.
Copyright © November,2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Dezi Freeman we are told killed two police
Wounded another, disturbing much peace'
Took a woman hostage and three kids
Message from the media, who from the police
Get their bits.' Meanwhile they hold Mali and
Consider her charging.yet she was not a hostage and where
It was said.' Not really clarity enlarging, how were
The kids treated after a fearfull experience' just thinking it through
Dezi was taking Andrews ex- state premier to
The law court.' He's an lgbt advocate? Of some
Sort..Rumours of child abuse historical they say'
Is Andrews extra squeeky clean.? He's been
Around anyway..Didn't he have a collision a young
Boy on a bike, reported 45 minutes later, drove off
Then back.? So some claim.' And that they do not
Like' will Mali be able to keep the children? Ir have
There been subtle threats? Comply or they'll be taken? I wonder what will come out next.?
I am the words
That are locked so deep inside
I am the voice
You can hear with your eyes
It’s hard to breathe,
But my secret’s safe with me
I am the face
That you will never see…
I go about my day
It looks like normal life
My sorrow is discreet
A wounded bird in flight
A wounded bird in flight
Mine is a song
Of secret poverty
Deprived of light
That still so many see
It’s hard to grieve
While this secret’s trapped in me
Mine is a heart
That’s not allowed to bleed…
I go about my day
It looks like normal life
My sorrow is discreet
A wounded bird in flight
A wounded bird in flight
For millennia, our race has lived a vast success.
Hatred, envy, spite, and strife are on the rise.
Despair, aggressiveness, self-centeredness.
Depravity, intrigue, lewdness, vanity, despise.
Hubris, a lack of self-awareness, and trickery.
Aristotle's five components have been corrupted.
Air, water, earth, and fire are no longer ancillary.
Humbly wished to stay alive rather than dead.
When I think back on all I've been through, it all seems insane.
There doesn't seem to be any way for me to heal.
Even if I tried, I'd never been able to reach or even get obscene.
On a detail level hit, I was wounded in the deepest part of my soul.
It seems clear to me now that my fate was set by my disputes.
Before it was too early in the process, I tried tentatively.
They've formed outflow and false analogies without any roots
When I had all the talent and drive, I regret not doing it smoothly.
They think they will be able to detain me after a full investigation
They make me feel scared with all they perform
I demonstrated to them that they could inflict pain and dejection
They're alleging in the flood that they lied about the game.
As a leader, I cannot assert that logic will guide my word.
They exhibit how to rule for the benefit of their family.
They did, however, get the human falsity award.
They're simply playing badly and misleading the community.
However, it's excessively various to decide.
You dared to contact that one strand.
You aren't aware when you alter your face.
It turns into such a terror-like experience.
It's going to last a period, you accept.
For the first time, you've been right.
It's the unique last time indefinitely.
You were harmed, and you stumbled struck poorly.
It felt agreeable yet surprising.
You said that you felt humiliated over increasing.
Pause for a minute to consider; it appears it's an act of futility.
When it got back to sobbing in the downpour, the storm faded away.
This time, everything had changed after much sorrow.
You never know when one door will shut, and another will open.
All the regime crashed, and I'm now being hailed as a hero.
Life is a journey, not a destination; without patience, no gain
Written: June 29, 2021
A broken person Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Faraz Ajmal
The believing man said:
"I wanted to bypass many things then...
My story was solemn and virtuous.
After storytelling came a momentary pause,
To understand your body, without losing all
And a realization came with a sheer pain
Let us talk together, I’m just getting started!"
The believing lady said:
“Don’t you have this concept of love?
One body wounded, sends signals of pain for all ?
Unites one soul, strong and bold
And in poems and prayers, together we hold!
Let us talk together, I’m just getting started!”
"Our global charm is minimizing day by day .
Are they not in our refrigerated perishable items?
Is it not your TV watching time ?
Or newspaper reading time?"
With a consoling voice with agreeable options ,
He replied, “Let us talk later, I’m just getting started!”.
Both of their inspiration was in poems, big and small
She dreamt of a generation gap mitigation model tirelessly
Through the power of positive tones of poems and poets.
Yet, often times both used to find poets , wandering out there
Jobless, faithless, devoid of energy, passion and emotion
Like a lemon served already in life, for quite a while, understood
And a funny paradox is that, I’m just getting started!
'I'm just getting started' Contest
Sponsor
John Hamilton
9-21-2019