Imprisonments poems on Hello Poetry

jeffrey robin Jul 2010

in the last night of solvency we gather
the last of the moccasins are gone

all the indians here are punjabi

they are the nicest, finest people

in the poor dark night of new poverty
all talk of justice is gone

the school houses are useless imprisonments
no taliban are
here

just some drugged up people gettin
beatin by the police

come

the corporate billionaires are talkin
listen if you'd be considered loyal
to the new world's god

Ghazal Mar 2014

Ache

I think what he felt was beyond love,
For, after braving multiple imprisonments in hell
That she shamelessly put him through,
All he said to her was "I wish you well"

Oliver Styles Nov 2017

Pont de Bir-Hakeim

In between two mirrors opposing one another lays a metaphysical space
Revealing the alternate dimensions of endless choices
Turning one way, half of me is defiant
Giving the other mirror attention, my other half is captivated by another
Different paths show possibles future
The consequences of my decisions stretch further then my eyes can see
I feel the blood surging within my veins from my climatic beating heart as the paranoia consumes me
The sensation is overwhelming but a sudden realization relieves me
These glass walls mean nothing to me as they are just imprisonments of possibilities
My desires don’t lie in the future but are right now. Nothing I want lies within the mirrors of complexity
I turn to my left and see everything I ever wanted. I see my future, my mind, my life, my everything
I became a hound who lost the scent of reality
My senses are at a euphoric high as I stop looking into the mirror
The rest of me follows my actions and one by one, they look away

#poetry #life #sad #thoughts #pain #lost #heart #hope

Eriko Apr 2017

kindling

shoulders hunched over
metal tables, where hips ache
and meet the bite of the edge,
where the eye lay so intent
on forward, chanced upon
another reality, another fantasy
other than the glum-white walls,
corners like imprisonments,
here, with elbows touching the cold metal
and pencil flying away,
the notes singing and meddling,
arching over where bridges lay unfathomed
to tales of fantastical beasts and claps of thunder,
of whimsical laughter catering above an ill-fitted tower,
of diving through scouring deserts, blistered heels
and parched lips as two and two hold onto one another
of tragic heroines and mystical vessels of evil,
here, as the kindling of imagination unfolds
cling onto it, I say

#imagination #creation

Matt Jun 2018

Servants’ Praise

As servants we commend ourselves in every way:

In great endurance;
In troubles, hardships, and distresses;
In beatings, imprisonments, and riots;
In hard work, sleepless nights, and hunger;

In enduring purity;
In understanding, patience, and kindness;
In Spirit, sincere love, and truthful speech;
In wisdom, maturity, and knowledge;

With weapons of righteousness in our right hand,
And in our left;

Through glory and dishonor,
Bad report and good report;

We are:
Genuine, yet regarded as impostors;
Known, yet regarded as unknown;
Dying, and yet we live on;
Beaten, and yet not killed;
Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing;
Poor, yet making many rich;
Having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

We serve and sacrifice;
Forcefully advancing the kingdom;
Where we have been given the gift of entry.

Inspired directly by 2 Corinthians 6:3-10

sansksksksk Aug 2020

raise the city

when the hands
on the clock move
to stop time
the earth becomes a wild thing,

when the humans slip
from their skin
imagine giants waking from
slumber:
(because they did, and they do)

when they shake the trees,
in the distance
here is the twist and scream
of faeries molting their
imprisonments:
they have come
for more blood
than we have left
in broken bones

when it takes hold,
raise the city
lurking beneath
cracked subway lines,
under the skin
and in the veins of the dreamers,
raise the city that sits
placid in the heads of thinkers,
that holds lies
woven between strangers
tying them together, taking us apart

when we raise the city
where
dark things slip through
small places
it will be
a kind world

this is about climate change
and our extinction
idk

— The End —