Long Absurd Poems
Long Absurd Poems. Below are the most popular long Absurd by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Absurd poems by poem length and keyword.
The idea of a living constitution
has the same forensic indeterminacy
as a committed dream.
I am content to trust this dream to the end
to have it fill my cup of hope all day and night.
I am content to receive its order
to hasten to obey without a pause.
But, the old voice sounds
unrelentingly in the chamber: Do not
compromise. Punish.
Crucify him.
The infirm musing of a perpetual dreamer
rising up with eyes wild for relief.
I am content with the terror and anticipation that
keeps turns by watching me:
Justice, once imagined, cannot be undone.
I have been left to think along these lines
to look for the abandonment of arcane unfairness
months after months.
The months
burn up as a fading lantern
homage to the majesty of the absurd:
A muse easy to bear, Camusian laughter to
suffering’s exalted well —
what single rule might break the dry spell?
Sometimes the unforeseen, the unpredictable
springs in the heart of justice
bending its way upward
again and yet again
towards a distant point
all unaccountably, into the strengthening clasp
of fresh now-born idea,
nearer to binding faith
than wild dismembering injustice.
When the far-distant element
of suffering humanity
looms out more clear;
the faint, far, complex notes of hope
its head moves near
and new flicks of justice’s well
unfolds beyond the known.
Is there any new depth to this well?
Say, what is its true nature?
Quietly nature covers over
the dying bird and the dead rover.
If justice’s dead, it is as though
a robin died beneath the snow
tucked away neatly, whose bright eyes
once stared with impudent surprise
at every tit-bit flung to her.
Now every season we must bear
to live without its whistled air,
for law lives beneath the Spring,
like a sequestered paradise
exiled from the steady hammer of faith,
a trackless rice field
ever trudging through groves of
crouching, unconquered territories.
Oh enchanted universe
conqueror of earth’s stadium
in your wild, singing glory
the faults you committed live.
Come hear my sharpened cries
surely, you can hear my note of crisis.
Ceaselessly I raise my cry.
My cry ascends and floats away
scattered by whirling winds afar.
* “Endure what you suffer as being a father’s punishment.” (Heb. 12:5b-7)
Author's note: written on the anniversary of Harvard's abuse of my human rights
Do you sometimes wonder
how to introduce what is out there to your soul and mind?
how to understand that which exists, in that period of time?
and in that present moment is real, and do you feel guilty if you leave it all behind?
Have you heard that your ego will prevent you
from being who you were meant to be?
And you get absorbed in society’s creations
but you find yourself confused, and unable to see.
And you might search the news
looking for those reads that will reaffirm what’s on your mind.
And you “stumble upon” absurd conspiracy theories
which you “miraculously” find.
Can you somehow see a reflection of who you are?
Or is the mirror broken, left far behind?
Can you ask yourself, honestly, sincerely, what the solution is for human kind?
Or do you get lost within the scope of your very own personal mind?
And as you sit there
do you blame others while looking for a system that creates the hurt?
Deep down you know the answer
it’s selfishness, hatred, power, and greed, which continue to subvert.
What is real and what is fake?
I often wonder what is true.
Yes I listen and I analyze
I use up a portion of my time to see it from a particular point of view.
For now I want to spend my time
searching within my soul for something that I’m unable in this world to find
which baffles me some of the time
because occasionally it’s born and exists deep within my very own mind.
I’m just a being, living and trying to be that which I foresee
searching for the spiritual in that which is before me
at times attempting to find meaning in mortality
with a burning desire to understand and see.
It is contentment which I pursue
Even look inside the cracks
But at times like these contentment hides
and the road ahead confuses me, so I retrace, as I retract.
Maybe I got it all wrong
Maybe some of it is right
Maybe my vision is blurry and foggy
Maybe at times I have trouble seeing the light.
I can take what is happening out there
interpret using knowledge, a view, and perhaps a belief
but often the truth is just not there, and the news really stinks as it permeates
and the nature of the many, rarely offer one relief.
And I’m left with the choice to accept, dissolve, or set it all aside
using my soul and my very own mind.
And after attempting to understand
I ultimately, usually, leave it all behind.
Form:
be not a receptacle to that spirit of sin
live by the word of God and be open to Him
in this day where the lines of morality have become blurred
where people believe and do all and anything that's absurd
caught up in the grasp of drugs and chemical dependency
caught up in the muck and mire of sexual immorality
yet society tries to explain away any and all aberrant behavior
and a psychiatric evaluation has become acceptable and favored
we're now subjected to the blame of others and their bad actions
subjected to the world's desensitized and apathetic reaction
overcoming the temptation to commit sin
to yield not to that demonic presence again and again
if you don't understand and comprehend the word of God
how do you know if you have any sin in your heart?
you need to read the word of God and follow His commands
the instructions on how to live sinless, God's master plans
to wrestle with the evil that may at times reside within
to overcome that sensation to go out and commit sin
you need to be exposed to God's laws and learn right from wrong
you need to do a self reflection and then come away strong
for it's one thing to do what is sinful if you don't have a clue
but it's a different story when you knowingly sin for the blame is now on you
to be disobedient and stray from God's life living instructions
will lead you down that crooked path of spiritual destruction
so think before you act and then lay it before God
pray on that temptation to sin and possess a contrite heart
to challenge that temptation to commit sin
just dwell on the word of God and not the unholiness of men
yet we continue to try and justify some of the things we do and say
we need to be truthful in our hearts and willing to change our ways
no longer to be arrogant and sanctimonious in this life
to be more humble and repentant as a child of the Lord Christ
we pretend to act like it's not us but everyone else
we need to take a hard look in the mirrors at ourselves first
to come to understand that this battle is not ours alone
to realize we need the strength and the power of the heavenly throne
to be rescued from that temptation of sin that's always hanging around
to be lifted up by the word of God and placed on higher ground
to turn to our savior, the Lord Jesus the Christ
to thank Him and praise Him for the gift of eternal life
The future will bring unexpected things,
A woeful tragedy our heart to sting,
And though our plans be laid so well,
A power, from where we cannot tell,
Moves, or turns circumstance around,
Here giving joy there bringing a frown.
An insignificant spark, a slippery spot,
An induced germ, a misplaced dot,
Can turn someone; a group, a horde,
To bring about peace or bare the sword.
What say ye then, my wise friend you;
Is it blind fate and a little luck too:
Some random power to tip the scale,
And bring forth heaven or show us hell?
Concerning the puzzle of seeming happenstance,
Can you of the future perceive a glance?
Has it reason or design at all,
Can man influence how 'fate' must fall?
How helpless then we tend to be,
If we be pawns in a random sea,
Where utmost effort is brought to naught,
A battle comes that would not be fought,
And all this turns on the merest flick,
Of someone's seeming uneventful trick.
Who can approve such an absurd display,
Of struggling mankind's effort made,
And undone by a change of wind,
The toss and turn of chance to send?
I will not accept such an odd charade
Of appearance too early or too late,
Of a random force that turns my way,
Into some strange and awkward play.
I choose a design of great import,
A meaningful kind, of a rational sort:
With a purpose far above the crush
Of humanity's desire filled headlong rush.
An intent supreme,of a virtuous kind,
With purer motive and reasoned mind;
To set things right and bring an end,
Far more desirable than chance can pen.
To vindicate the cause of all,
The pain, the strife, the rise and fall,
Of man's travail from then til now;
Though to prove it to you, I know not how.
Please bear with me and consider this,
Lest some good purpose we should miss,
Could the answer be thus simply stated:
"By Him and for Him they were created"?
The purpose of creation and the Adamic fall,
Could glory for Christ be the reason after all?
More magnificent a claim cannot be made.
No more noble reason for existence laid,
Than for my existence to be,
To glorify the one who is most Holy.
The Spirit written text does make the call,
Of one Lord supremely over all,
With a secondary purpose in mind,
Of a merciful and a redeeming kind.
All wrapped up in this purpose too,
Could be salvation for me and you.
I ask you now, does this ring true,
Creation made and with good purpose too?
They said the war was over, but I feel as if it has just begun. The heart is not meant to be broken, as it was all those years, through the war and the tragic storms, yet she confided in nothing but true love, the darkness, and demons appeared to take that away.
Time after time, it has become an endless battle. Her heart, her faith, and the pain had slipped away. She no longer sheds tears because those tears have turned into anger. Made to feel like a liar, this endless battle never ends, the cold colorful life that sits dreamt within her heart has now become a vivid dream and her heart is cold as a rock of emptiness and betrayal.
Just forgotten like the rest, now this time, she is just so used to feeling alone. She turns her head for she was tormented and tattered, abused and forgotten by most. She said, the hearts been broken by absurd language, and stories that could make you fall weak. That love she had, has turned to ice, cold, bare, and bitter, on this seemingly endless cold summer night!
All that has been lost, can never be repaired, the past is her past, to her the future is what is real. Sitting here dreaming of a world of marrying her biggest dreamt soldier, if given a moment to try and understand, she will give you a chance, been known for even a second at that. She asks Just to remember her heart was once solid and is now soft and broken too.
She made a promise to herself to let all that hurts her heart, go away with the wind, and the moon to the morning dew, and the first peak of the morning sunlight. To move on and have a future, that nobody else may ever justify or think about trying to determine! Like a soldier on the front lines, standing tall and straight, she will give you her promising word, until your actions have made her soon realize that it was all a mistake.
Perhaps, she found her soldier, on a little boat on the ocean, for thus was the day her failures and the war became a dream, and all her worst nightmares were now over, maybe her dreams were becoming of a reality, and the war of what love feels like has mended her heart to know, she’d finally found her truest lover.
This poem is inspired by the arts of Jim Warren, one of Disney's famous artist, and his famous piece titled A day for a Daydream, this poem has been approved by the artist himself.
Written by: Jessica Wiederhold
DONJOURN WORLD
Help me for i want to know
Although to know for me is to be free
But not by all men, but by my freedom
I have been lying in this gutter world
Wondering why i cannot get up
Perhaps fight my way to the freedom land
Where i see all men work and walk in pleasure
Yet the more i see all men walk pleasurably on the land
I hate the morning that raise me down through the donjourn land
Early that morning i found out
That inside this donjourn is where most people in our world belongs
Funny enough is it in cry
As i found out that we have the same believe, share faith, one same blame
It is their fault; they are responsible for the big world in the gutter
I know that during the beginning there was no gutter
Infact, the world indeed was built without shallow pit
And ground of merciless abode as ours
Yet for men to be happy and share wickedness
They built this absurd kingdom
Every time i see one in the land kingdom and beg for their help
They have a recitation that made me believe
That their world is a world of same slogan, one belief
How did you manage to end up here
Find your way up, i have a lot on my hand
Yet the hand seems free, less occupy i swear
Although, it is a question and a little confusing answer
But sure painful, also a heart sincere message
A rather two edge sword
Our kingdom always dash the pains away
With the normal consolation word
I know they will all deny the charge
That we happen to exist here does not mean that we will end up here
One day i know by our complain and the God that put us here
By our side, we will at the end of the day join the land mob
But the space of time and what they are doing
And the endurance of the complain in them
Made me hate them by their will
In them i see much difference from me
Their will and my will, their see and my see
Have a lot of gap than our appearance
In theirs’, there is no way
In mine, there are ways
But i only want to find out the time
And if possible know how to break quick
To become the lord and king in the land kingdom
Early word by the land kingdom friend
Made me know that i hold my freedom
I was once like you but i never believe what you people says
And that is what led me to the land kingdom
I always think more than the land kingdom
One more mystery that no one knows
I think like the God that created all kingdom
...It was just after such a cry
that she turned her sad face to him,
said,”It’s not written that you’d come…
What power lets you come within?”
Enktantas just advanced slowly,
a battered sword high on his belt,
“A voice told me to come find you,
where it came from, I cannot tell.
“I don’t even know why I come here,
no silence could I ever find,
I hoped if I could track you down
the madness would drain from my mind.
“But tell me, goddess, why you cry?
Why would a goddess feel so sad?
I thought tears were for us mortals,
whatever could make you feel bad?”
The goddess blinked away her tears,
and looked down on the mortal man,
said, “I have cried since I was made,
I'm Destiny, and by it damned.
“You mortals were blessed with some choice,
if just the illusion of it,
but I am bound by this great scroll,
and my feelings can’t defeat this.
“What I read here is what must be,
I say names and men go to death,
even if I feel it is wrong
the words still leap out with each breath.
“So many babies innocent,
beloved folks who deserved more,
even fellow gods fated to die,
while sparing those rightly deplored.
“For all of time I’ve done this task,
so have my daughters by my side,”
she said,”But you were not written…
it is you who must make me die!”
Enktantas jolted in real shock,
and stumbled about for his words,
“I-I do not mean to hurt you,
To kill a goddess? That’s just absurd!”
But Ananke just shook her head,
said,”I don’t think that is the case.
To be here without it being told…
To be excused by the strands of fate?
“This has never happened before,
maybe this is the first real choice,
sent by a power beyond fate…
I think that’s the goal of this ‘voice.’
“And even if it’s something else,
at this point I no longer care,
deaths of millions are on my soul,
I’m in pain from that much despair.
“So take that sword stained red with blood,
and please strike me square on my breast,
if I am wrong nothing changes,
if right then I’ll finally have death.”
Enktantas frowned and bit his lip,
the mere thought to him seemed insane,
But a goddess had commanded him,
and so evident was her pain...
He pulled the sword out from his belt,
put the tip right over her heart,
“Forgive me,”he said in advanced,
then plunged forward with the sword, hard...
CONCLUDES IN PART III.
The rising of the seventh moon in an ornamental lampshade is equivalent to a nice round smiley dinner plate that had been recently washed,
Recently washed is neither a rotating wimpy wishing walker and neither is it a raspberry wafer wobbling,
It takes a lot of effort to squeeze a giant igloo through the eye of a needle,
And this is not pleasant for the spectating polar bears whose fish was being fried inside the dwelling holes,
But only a mini strawberry could flex the muscles effectively to cause a jam in a mile of traffic,
That is not good news for the jars who are already late and to be late is said to be as irrational as using a fork to make a morning brew,
A stew is far more intelligent than a gravy as many components equal more experience and more experience means that even a metric metre of labelled combinations could entice a bear from a sleeping hole,
But only when wearing a jacket made from paper,
It is nice and neat and true to form,
But format was often found to be a flame of frog leg on a carpet of mystical swirling frogspawn,
It is wise to offer up a little cup of cat milk to the buds then sit back as the colours loop in and swirl in a sky of answers,
But this can simply not be achieved nor archived when the moon is in the bin and the sailors are racing in the sun ship,
A trade is traditional and traditional trade can be nothing more then a hyper-fluted mini skirt of a skating rabbit on a promenade wearing 60 pairs of headphones,
Metronomes moaning making moronic motionless mixes,
And a nice little pair of glasses on the mantle-piece was swaying in the wind but not swearing for swearing was reserved for those who act out tanker talks,
Themes then?
Yes.
Where there were many now there are few.
But in fuse boxes the conversations are often quite absurd and who would put a floating camel in a tank then send it into a plane to cross the clouds,
Criss cross is a cleaning duty for a mission opinionated cloth wearing layers of clothing,
So what will one bring to the fair?
A mare
A single bud
A sanctified saint cushion with sparkles and satin.
And a heron in a pan of water with 60 fish to eat.
Consummation is the creational consumption cream of cropped chartered chunks. Said the 90 feet of cat by a door.
Z Leptailurus serval Z at 54 lemon sponge cakes laughing at 21 empty flan cases.
Form:
“Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
Psalm 23:4
Teach me, my Lord, how to live according
words of the Spirit and daily the Bible trust,
neither resentment, nor anger, or rancour hoarding,
for to be merciful and forgiving I must.
I’m in the realm of shadows, where hearts are harder
and where Satan is ruling, our common foe.
Help me to love you, Lord, with a greater ardour,
if in the darkest valley I have to go.
How to live in this world, where darkness abounds?
things are absurd, and sins are becoming laws,
where demonic force more and more surrounds,
quietly at my heart anxiety gnaws.
Something’s disturbing me, I can’t tell, it’s blurry,
but in the world of fraud, deceit, and intrigue,
possibly it’s for my children some deepest worry
or maybe I am struck by regrets or fatigue.
The callous world is deaf to God’s revelations
and to suppress the truth it frantically tries,
a shroud of falsehood envelops entire nations,
minds of people are trapped in the devil’s lies.
I am, it seems, in this world no longer needed,
and sleepless nights, perhaps, my hopes erode.
Yet, in my deepest core I cannot be defeated,
faith in You, Lord Jesus, cannot corrode.
Should I dare to grumble, if even You,
God in the flesh, walked on earth on the dusty roads,
tiredness and fatigue so well You knew,
overwhelmed with people's complaints loads.
Should I bemoan my losses, when even You,
being abandoned by friends at the biased trial,
with the exception of very few,
and you experienced then your disciple’s denial.
Should I groan from hurt, when the King of kings,
You by the Roman guards were hit on the face,
You, the Creator, from whom any life springs,
with Your forgiveness repentant sinners embrace.
Being betrayed, and spat at, and crucified,
with mocking crowds of mob laughing at You,
You for their sins on the cross had died,
staying to God alone faithful and true.
Risen from death to life, You are giving hope,
when in this darkened world any hope dies.
Setting my heart on You, I can now cope,
and from my grief and pain my soul can rise.
26.01.2022
This is an English version of my poem
"? ???? ?????" http://stihi.ru/2022/01/24/482
LIFE'S END
So they think you are old and shouldn't live alone,
maybe you're too frail to be left on your own
Can't manage your own money or live in your own home,
apprehensive you give up and take up the tossed bone
So many years spent taking care of them,
it's your turn they'll tell you and move you right in
Deep inside you hope to turn back the time,
your life's work was them sure it will be just fine
Your full of anticipation life is going to be easier now
Soon feeling like a relic lifted up and knocked down
You have so many stories memories of days passed,
feel like every story told could soon be your last
They have no time to listen they heard it all before,
tell you they'll talk later as they rush through the door
Feeling like a burden wondering what to do,
no one seems to care about the trials you've been through
To them, you're just repeating things already heard,
but if they'd stop to listen your words are not absurd
Everyone keeps talking about the day you will die,
and who gets what & how your property will divide
Not wanting to wait they reach out with dirty hands,
to take what's in reach they can't wait for the end
You start to feel decrepit and feel your life's a sin,
its a bad situation that no one wins in the end
You find yourself weaker something isn't right,
don't talk to old friends feeling like a fright
Every day grows longer you can't wait for the night,
no one even gets it it's such a dismal plight
You sleep and sleep and sleep to escape reality,
your youth is long faded along with vitality
Closing your mind eye reaching for your partner's hand,
but alone in your bed, this was not the master plan
The dream realm is all you see through the haze,
you lift your eyes up & meet your lost love's gaze
But please don't go too soon to that alternate reality,
there are those that still need to hear the words you speak
Stop dwelling on real or perceived infirmities
or without warning, it will drain your remaining vitality
When you think of death or of the dying that they speak,
hold your head up high and breathe life into the scene
Change your attitude don't die it's not a dream
the younger generation you still need to lead
Hold onto your life and sow a precious seed,
life is worth living don't lose it in a dream