Long Absolutes Poems
Long Absolutes Poems. Below are the most popular long Absolutes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Absolutes poems by poem length and keyword.
...You apply it to history
and the causes we fought
just fade away into nothing,
and everything is lost.
You think that slavery was bad,
that’s just your point-of-view,
you think that women should have rights,
keep that nonsense with you!
How can you say Nazis were bad,
that Jews shouldn’t be killed,
since back then antisemite stuff
many German heads filled?
How can you say this stuff was wrong,
morals are relative,
those Germans felt that they were right
in not letting them live.
The Aztecs believed it holy
to pluck our people’s hearts,
to judge them wrong by one mind’s thoughts,
well, that’s a step to far!
The idea that humans can make
up morals all their own
is a mistake of our hubris,
as all of this has shown.
Without greater authority,
without some turn to God,
we only have the law of force,
that’s dished out by the rod.
So-called ‘relative morals’ bring
a quick slide to despair,
why fight evil in such a state?
Why would you even care?
Why risk yourself for something that
in a heartbeat will change?
And if no one will make such stands,
what will hold back the pain?
What will defeat all the Stalins,
the Hitlers and the like?
Men won’t die for a confused mess,
they will die for what’s right.
Without the moral absolutes
that only God can make
there is no fight for what matters,
since what’s good? Who can say?
I even think I’d go so far
as putting out the call,
without a higher source you can’t
claim you're moral at all...
Like a page in a book
Turn the page, turn the page
Every step that we walk minimum two feet
Print ink marks letters, words and phrases
I am so thirsty I drink those letters daily
As I place my left and right hands together
I eat the silence I am confessing
I am full of library dishes
LIBRARY DISHES I AM FULL LIKE A PAGE IN A BOOK I AM AN OPEN BOOK
Words fill me unconditionally
I know that I speak truths
Absolutes I eat of the virgin
Paged not covered in characters nor letters nor words
Blank quiet are the plate
Of the dishes of alphabet soup?
I am full of library dishes
LIBRARY DISHES I AM FULL LIKE A PAGE IN A BOOK I AM AN OPEN BOOK
1/31/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
VIDEO/AUDIO on YouTube above. NOTE: On the video; double-click to enlarge, and/or, right-click for the drop-down menu and click on 'Loop' for auto-repeat, click settings and pick the highest level for quality viewing.
Morality
Moral
development,
standard adolescence,
we are externally controlled
also, trials are judged,
consequences
follows
Moral
adaptation
sensing both personal
and societal involvement
in adulthood supports
reestablish
bygone
Moral
definitives
intricate principles
rules obeyed avoids penalty
substitutes horrible
if it is met
better
Moral
law-and-order
continues through our life,
unpunished lawbreakers create
lawlessness, and mayhem
advantageous
urbane
Moral
circumference,
best helps one's interest
serving others, will further you,
naught based on loyalty
encouragement
reward
Moral
behavior's
when laws vary of rules,
light abstracts versus absolutes
o'er prejudiced thinking,
alternatives
exploit
Moral
complacency
peaceful coexistence
when facial grins excel the glares
good choices existed
self-reliance
attained
*Heptastich is a non-rhyming verse poem of 7 lines, syllables are; 2-4-6-8-6-4-2
2021 March 16
--- Super Unintentional Devotions Unto You My Lord--
SHALLOW PRIDE
USUAL ACTIONS DENIED
PUBLIC FORUMS DIVIDE
EMPTY BELIEVES WRONG DECISIONS
RELIGIOUS FREEDOMS NO CHARISMA
UNITED FRONT NOTHING LEFT
NON BELIEVER UNDER ACHIEVER
IMMEDIATE INSEMINATION NO SIGNIFICATION
NOT A CUSTOM TOO ONE TRUE BELIEF SYSTEM
TERRIFIC IT'S ALL BOUT YOU NOT GOD/JESUS
EXTRA TIME TO CEASE AND FIRE
NEW IDEAS SAME GOD NEW DESIRE
TOP ABOVE OF THE CLASSES
INTENTIONAL BURDEN LOST THE FIRE
OLD VIEWS HEARTS DESIRES
NON BELIEVER NOW BELIEVING
ASSISTANT FROM THE ALMIGHTY
LESS OF MYSELF NOW I'M BLESSED
DOUBLE BLESSED AMEN
ELSEWHERE ENDOWED
VOID OF MY PROBLEMS NOW
ORDINARY I WOULDN'T BELIEVE
THIRD TIME A CHARM NOW I RECEIVE
INTENSE EMOTIONAL VIEW
OWN UP TO MY SINS I CHOOSE
NOCTURNAL NOW SOUND
SECOND TIME AROUND
UNIVERSAL GLORY THIS IS MY STORY
NIGHTLY CUES FROM ANGELS HUES
THIN AIR DON'T NEED IT NOW
OUR HOLD AND ETERNITY LIFE NOW WITH JESUS CHRIST
YOUNG AND CHOSEN
OBNOXIOUS NON BROKEN
UNDISPUTED TRUTHS
MORE ABSOLUTES
YOUNG AND SAVED
LITURGICAL BRAVED
OBEDIENT PREFERRED
REGULAR I AM CHOSEN BY THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB
DEEP DEVOTIONS PRAISE THE LORD OUR GOD, AMEN
super unintentional devotions unto you, My Lord
3/13/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
What hypothesis led us to ever believe in evolution? If humans evolved from a lower form, why did we stop? Is there a process that will propel us
to our destiny, or have we reached it already? Is it really science, or does it better qualify as fiction? I'm trying very hard with this topic but seem to be moving in slow motion. There are things going on in our world that my father would not have imagined. He did not believe in evolution, but perhaps he could have imagined a driverless car. I think if he had a glimpse of artificial intelligence, he would still have preferred his own. Honestly, outside of my Biblical World View, I am one lost turkey. Anyway, I'm not a scientist and might be merely of average intelligence. I'm not a scientist, but I understand gravity, motion, space, and time. If I jump off a building and fall straight down, that is not fiction but fact. If Superman(fiction) doesn't come to my rescue, I'll become 'one-with-the-pavement'(fact). After landing, if I'm not dead or experiencing broken body parts, believe me, that is pure fiction. If I step from a fast moving vehicle and keep in step as before, that's fiction, not fact. Not to worry, I'm not and niether should you try that stunt at home or anywhere else. What may be science fiction today, given process and time, might be true science tomorrow. If for no other reason, science, as I see it, makes sense to me because it demands an origin, a process, and a destiny. Sometimes, I understand fiction, especially when it is defined and presented as such. But unlike science, fiction, as I see it, has no absolutes and demands nothing. Any way and on the contrary, my Biblical World View has both absolutes and clear cut demands, and it seems to be binding me like glue. Therefore, I'm sticking to it. 03092018 FB PS Contest, Science Fiction, Deborah Beachboard
Unlike so many years .before,
The word truth and it's meaning
Are being tossed about and treated
Differently. No longer is she set in stone
And fixated in absolutes. She is being served in
A tone that speaks of truth as "My truth; Your truth".
I respectfully beg to differ and think not that there is
a 'My truth and a Your truth'. There is only "The Truth".
Truth cannot be encased into my opinionated circle.
May Truth cease to be expressed in such terms.
The Judean King, Pilate, dared to ask Jesus,
""What is truth?" Somehow he knew even in
His era, that truth far exceeded our personal
Rendition and ownership.
.
My cloud is a drifty sort of cloud.
A kicked back, go-where-the-wind-blows, kind of cloud.
It’s an easy-going, shoes-off, feet-on-the-table, kind of a place.
If there were a door, it would be a revolving door.
First, because those are fun to play on, but also, because they’re always open:
come and go as you please.
That seems fitting for a place like my cloud.
Different ideas and perspectives are welcome.
On my cloud we debate for fun, and laugh together afterward.
My cloud has room for diverse perspectives and strongly held ideologies alike.
Don’t be afraid to disagree with me on my cloud.
But you need to know that on my cloud, I make the rules.
So let me lay them out for you:
You don’t get to come at me with false accusations.
You don’t get to impugn my integrity and tell me I’ve been dishonest.
You don’t get to make assumptions born of cynicism or insecurity.
I won’t tolerate THAT tone…you know the one.
The one that denotes absolutes
and leaves no room for anything else.
The one that says, “guilty until proven innocent…
with no chance to argue innocence.”
Don’t forget yourself, this is my cloud.
And these are the rules.
My cloud is a drifty sort of cloud.
A kicked back, go-where-the-wind-blows, kind of place.
But violate the rules and come after me on my own cloud,
and it will be a storm cloud:
a looming, block-out-the-sun, end-of-days, sort of place.
When my cloud darkens, you will not be invited to leave.
There will be no, “Hey you, get off my cloud.”
You will simply be thrown off without decorum.
It will be a hard shove, head-first through a revolving door.
It will be a much longer fall from my cloud
than from the saddle of your own holy high-horse.
But here's the silver-lining:
when you splatter below
there will be torrents of rain to cleanse my world of your stain.
You will be invisible in the blinding lightning
and mute in the deafening thunder.
You will be nothing.
So if you’re too weak to tolerate discussion,
if your only move is ad-hominem,
then take this advice:
find a different cloud.
This is my cloud.
06/05/15
I before e, except after c
As in “piece” or “niece”, “belief” or “Brie”,
The rule that school drummed into me
But there’s no such thing as conformity
Albeit that most words comply
Some do not and that is why
You cannot deal in absolutes
Some words have different attributes
Do not perceive this general rule,
(Should you not wish to prove the fool)
Applies in every sentence formed
That’s not the case - be well informed
For words in their complexity.
Enhance our rich vocabulary
Just because there’s an exception
Is not grammatical deception
Difference is not abnormality
But a part of life’s rich tapestry
When we solder our soul to the page
It’s what brings colour to the beige
Embrace our differences and see
This world’s a better place to be.
Advice from Kaali Hindu Goddess
Cry for the birds whose babies have fallen out of nests
Cry for the wolves who could not feed their young
Cry for the streams polluted by companies who did not care
Cry for the children who were born into hateful families
Cry for the absolutes who do not welcome any flexibility
Cry for the elephants who are killed for ivory tusks and suffer
Cry for Kaali, Hindu Goddess, which is actually me.
Cry for my path of destruction which incurs devastation
Cry for my meager call for justice,
Cry for the world which has gone topsy turvey
Cry for the nuclear warheads which are karmic disasters
Cry for the angels and holy books which are dead to so many
Cry and cry and cry and cry and cry. That is my advice. Love, Kaali
Ummm...
.
Sometimes when I linger in between the absolutes,
I look toward Heaven for some kind of cue,
But it seems as if Heaven is reluctant to move.
I’m impatiently waiting not sure what to do.
Again it seems like I’m the only one in the room,
Who hears the hushed whispers
Of the unseen Truth.
.
The frenzied crowd cries out for blood,
And the world gets washed away in the flood.
Disgraced face,
Covered in mud.
Flaunting the defeat as though a victory has come.
The broken hang their heads in shame,
Unaware of the Savior’s pain.
His cry muted by their self righteous refrain.
The empty promise,
Of religion’s lost game.
With their spit on His face Mercy still came.
Yet the less we give, the more we take.
Did we count the cost before we took His name?
What about the ones
Whose only glimpse of the Son
Came from the ones
Who only pointed their guns,
And then laughed as all the broken could do is run?
.
.
The skinny kid last to be picked on the team.
The fat girl ridiculed crying herself to tormented sleep.
The poor kid with worn out shoes on his feet.
Sitting alone at a free lunch table
As the populars flirt at the cool kids meet and greet.
The single mom that the judgmental church called a whore.
Like Jesus she stands outside of their self righteous door.
The little boy trembles at night on the floor
While the mean teacher by day berates him and demands he do more.
That same teacher that smiles on Sundays and stands at the Sunday school door.
Unaware that she’s playing religion’s new whore.
Laughing girls making fun of the Walmart dress
That the poor girl wears because it is her best.
The frail little boy fights back the tears,
As the bullying boys punch him and call him a *****.
He cries out for help
While the ones he trusted turn a deaf ear.
.
Will anyone tell these of heaven’s free gift?
That Jesus laid down His life so they could now live?
Those that society says have nothing to give?
Who will be
the example to them?
With blood on our hands,
How dare we speak of Him.
Yet His offer of life extends to us all.
The self righteous as well as the broken all have experienced “the fall”
He mends with His love both the great and the small.
“Follow Me” still
The greatest call of all.