Long Abstraction Poems
Long Abstraction Poems. Below are the most popular long Abstraction by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Abstraction poems by poem length and keyword.
New Year
I walk down from the seventh floor.
Take the lift up and walk down again.
Since we can only be out a short time
Like shopping it makes me feel fit.
Tomorrow it will be a new year
Actually, there are no new year it is
A construction made by man
time is endless time is an abstraction.
I like to see January alive, not that
It matters, but I’m human and for a reason.
I can´t explain I would like to see
The spring of another year, although
I know what happened in my life.
Will be erased, and there is no god to
Give me comfort like grasping at straws.
The worst thing about death is the lack of dreams.
The endless emptiness
Waiting for endlessness to end.
Prologue
Life is not an accident, nor is it a machine.
It is resonance, a vast unfolding symphony of patterns, rhythms and harmonics.
Every moment carries with it echoes of the infinite, like ripples on the surface of water connecting us to unseen realms.
To live well is not simply to survive or dominate, but to enter into rhythm with life itself, becoming a consciousness.
This path is not one of control but alignment.
To hear the silence behind sound, to move with the current rather than against it, is the heart of wisdom.
In this manifesto, I attempt not to describe life as a mechanical process but as a living philosophy.
The call of the universe is not made of equations alone, nor of emotion alone, but of resonance.
This is a call to integrity, to live with both reason and reverence, to embody love and to cultivate freedom rooted in wisdom.
Love and Sacredness
Love is the primal field from which all meaning flows.
Love is not merely romantic attraction or fleeting passion - it is the force of unconditional love, a giving without measure.
Through love we touch the divine, and in touching the divine, we realize that it was never elsewhere - it was always within.
Sacredness is not confined to altars or holy books.
It lives in the smallest details: the stone shaped like a dragon, the rare clover with five leaves, the rhythmic overlapping of the waves.
These are reminders that divinity is not a distant abstraction but a tangible presence in the ordinary.
The divine is present wherever we look and wonder awakens us, wherever reverence requires us to look deeper.
Who says a tree is bent, not straight, kinked?
For there are no straight lines in nature.
A line is a human abstraction, a connection between points.
Look around, all of nature is curves, coils, gnarls and bumps.
It's true that some spikes and spines are almost straight,
and beams of light are true,
but light has waves within
and the profiles of spines are wavy too.
All the lines you see in the view about you
are human-made structures,
with dead straight lines.
Most walls, roofs, bridges, buildings
are made plumb level and aligned upright,
by wayward designers, hell-bent on lines.
THRESHOLDS
infusing
frugality
with
sheer
economy
the
spareness
of
the
mundane
lean
&
uncluttered
the
compressed
abstraction
in
the
commonplace
a
call
&
response
in
shortened
function
to
convey
the
experience
of the
disparate
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Written February 22, 2017
Motivation keeps us dream chasing
Those thoughts that you hold dear to your heart
Until the world falls apart from me missing you
These thoughts of you keep me holding onto
This abstract feeling called love
Now paint a pointillist on a rawhide canvas
On a Native American buffalo drum
But I digress to keep the beat going along
Keep it flowing to waterfalls where angels sing
A song to the siren, listen to her lull you to your last breath
So you thought this was an abstraction of love, not death
But you thought wrong 'cause they're one in the same
It's the name of game when the carousel goes round
Watch it go round, round, and round
A radial diametric where the angles bisect
To prototypes and concepts
From the concave to convex
Do you do it for the money and sex
Or for the only dreamers that we've got left
Yeah you know you've gotta give to receive
This abstract feeling called love
AI and the souls
Does a human baby have a soul
if so, dogs and giraffes also must have a soul
inside their being, like a third force
pulling strings. if ever so gently
If we accept an abstraction, like the soul
exists, it must include all living identities
a soul might be a reserve of experiences
gathered over the years make it possible
to know when we are trespassing
I think if AI becomes sophisticated
the question will arise
This, of course, is an important theme
as we tend to associate soul with faith
also empathy, love, and friendship
ability animals as in abundance
in, say, a dog case is the knowledge
of GOOD BOY! leads to more food
If we imbue the AI, human traits
the robot might evolve to get souls
rust and die.
The Problem arises when makers
feed, shall we say almost all humans
with evil intent, one thing speaks
in their favor, an army of robots
do not need to be fed, with the
possible exception of olive oil
Please read Episode 1 of PURE FANTASY to follow throu
On a friendly mission we arrived
Willing and ready to extend,
Our hand to the people of earth
I came to this planet as a friend
From my home which is Planet Mars,
President and ruler of the Galaxy
Decorated with stars and bars,
And often referred to as His Majesty!
But, amongst Superheroes,
Known as Echo Man, my voice is strong
Reverberates throughout my domain,,
I’m known for upholding the good
And deleting the wrong!
I can also read your mind,
And allow mine to be read,
I am one of a kind!
Akin to me, no other across all planets
And stars, Including Planet Earth!
We come in peace,
I begin to descend, let the uncertainty
And animosity between us cease!
I immediately sense hostility,
A far cry from any call for unity
As I step with hesitation
Into an angry situation,
It is already too late, for I am on
Planet Earth’s threshold,
Of a new tomorrow!
Soldiers seize me from behind,
Whilst thousands of troops surround
And bombard
Our ship, many of my men die!
What an insane reaction,
My Martians take off and
Fly into the skies,
Planet Mars idea, once an abstraction
Is now ready to be put into action!
Naive earthlings, do you not know that
Superheroes from Venus and Mars,
Do not regard or fear bars,
You will soon feel the force
Of our strength,
As History takes its course!
My Kingdom knows
What has to be done,
Fire Ball, your time has come,
For us to rally, do you read my mind?
Yes, she replies, for I am one of your kind!
Swish thud goes the pendulum,
Giving every second significance,
With each moment as important.
Taking me into myself, for myself,
Able to access my abstraction,
Feeling my own presence positively.
The beats remind me of my heartbeat,
There, but not visible: just by intelligence;
Only these clocks emphasise the seconds.
Tradition can stink, but here it settles:
The invention suffices to help me think,
And ponder on my whereabouts.
The anchor escapement mechanism transcends,
Slowness for me to grasp various possibilities,
Ramifies that there are ways of leaving.
Of leaving the said, the ornate and the strict:
The old can often aid departure even from them,
As given, never to be claimed by anyone.
The Almighty Creator has me in His wondrous plan
even before the foundation of the world
one among His blessed masterpieces
to bear His divine craftsmanship.
The Perfect Painter presents me to surpass human nature’s premier coup
in His mind’s canvas, quickened for worship with body, soul, and spirit
since I have tripartite being according to His image and likeness
reflecting the LORD as Trinity: Father, Son, Holy Ghost.
The Supreme Designer keeps on fashioning me in love’s workmanship*
by His kindness-modelling---concrete, showing no abstraction
as pattern of good works along stewardship’s color wheel
midst Christ’s grace-palette and strength-easel.
The Beauty-Master enhances my glow through pleasant reality-blendings
midst gesturalism and silhouette engagements of reaching-out collage
around my life-building pursuits of mixed media granulations
producing tenebrism that exalts the Saviour.
The Sovereign Artist transforms me to become a precious portrait-legacy
for worthy exhibit of faith champions in various servanthood genre
along polishing, brushing, etching, pressing, scraping encounters
showcasing the magnificence of God’s mercy and miracles.
*Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
(Art Words are from A-Z Glossary of Painting Terms)
November 17, 2021
1st place, "A STRAND (1049)" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/11/2022
It’s the cat on the doorstep you didn’t expect.
A burnt-out lightbulb darkening the foyer.
It’s the thought of something creepy lurking under the porch,
A feeling you might need a clever lawyer.
It’s the odd conjunction of uncanny events,
With noir intrusions scratching in the closet.
It’s a drip from the faucet you just had repaired.
Make sure your will is locked in safe deposit.
It’s a psychic vision, a dystopian dream,
A dark abstraction slinking through the mist.
It’s the merciless stab of a memory’s fang,
It’s venom much too tempting to resist.
It’s a camera obscura, a projected effect,
A vision of transgressions grim and hellish.
It dwells within the heart you're too enfeebled to protect,
A claw that rips your soul with chilling relish.
It’s the phantom at midnight. It’s the creeper at dawn.
It preys upon the lonely and the strange.
When it's time to get going, you will find yourself gone,
A gaunt and ghostly coachman at the reins.