Long Acquiescent Poems
Long Acquiescent Poems. Below are the most popular long Acquiescent by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Acquiescent poems by poem length and keyword.
awaiting interpersonal subsequent situation
aye tend to get ants
see when in the midst awaiting
said sub routine involving
outcome of circumstance
the parameter, perimeter, potentiometer,
et cetera extents
sifts out the destructive sycophants
versus real boot not nacho
munching macho gents
thus ipso facto fur cher
pro bono, and hence
gaining kudos for fas innocence
je nais sais quois joie de vivre personal aim
finds this lapsed passive pen sieve blame
less body electric alternating
between defendant versus claim
"FAKE" aunt Emma, who wrote to said
real or fictitious dame
purportedly gave solicited feedback exclaim
ming absolute zero tolerance
for acquiescent docile frame
within the real versus make believe
Milton Bradley board game
of LIFE as well my late mum (Chris Anne)
whose maternal sermons
included a ban
against blindly enlisting
into any sect chew will clan
purporting pretending posturing
as Dudley Do-right dan
sing with the stars amidst a Euclidean
Geometry auditorium,
where the glitzy dazzling audience
flush with many a fan
gnat tics toward a particular couple
said open eyed spectators
focused glazed eyes and grand
huzzahs on a man or woman,
who took charge hand
dilly directing his/her partner
acrobatic aeronautics inland
pro active with guiding he or she
toe till lee tubular counterpart re
speck ting decorum, yet pre
zen ting a choreographed production nee
an utterly out of this world with lee
ping skyward ward jumps key
pin equipoise holy jee
purrs, which scenario
analogous to taking bold
measures tubby
forthrightly assertive fold
ding arms crosswise
across chest, taking hold
din stance without conveying
a haughtiness mold.
Memories linger melancholy
as I approach the bridge
to the Gardens de Sol.
A picture forms in my weary mind;
Just a mere shadowed mirage,
like an old faded photograph
in a heart shaped locket
kept near my soul centre
for days, weeks and decades….
while
fall winds crooning blue zephyrs
frigid, incantations upon the
once verdant meadows
where the fawns grazed
and wild horses pranced
so breezy carefree
on fine spring days....
I whirled and twirled , a carefree dance
on patches of clover and dandelions
in the spring of my youth
Reveling joie de vivre of sun
Sol warming skin and soul pink
I remember our long, meandering walks
in a picture perfect rose garden
scented with redolent pines
and aromatic wild flowers
we conversed for hours,
my hand in yours
thrilling at your every word
infatuated by a fervent touch
You, idly picking petals off a rose;
the deep timbre of your delicious laugh
resounding joy to my acquiescent ears
as I cavorted playfully in the garden’s fountain
until lengthening shadows quilted the path
with reluctant to leave, sun beams
of a late summer afternoon
And afterwards, in twilight violet sky;
intimate moments by a blazing fire,
silent music of our hearts thrumming
a lovers sonata while
you kissed me;
gold specked brown orbs,
so pleasurable and beguiling,
warming my soul
full of tomorrows promise
and forgotten yesterdays
Now, as I picture this quixotic drama
rehearsed again and again
one solitary tear slowly trails down
and comes to rest on lines
that were not there yesterday…..
Dead cornflake leaves
crunch under my feet
as I walk the very same
bridged pathway to the garden
alone
my only audience
a solitary prickly cactus
in the autumn of my years.......
None keeps its inventory
But it creeps into a story
A story of a modern society
Which is plural in nature;
Partly of a rural nurture
Partly of an urban stature
Yet must remain together
Lest it falls a part
For unity is strength.
For peace.
To join these pieces to each other
That requires acuteness of thought,
That demands leaders of acuity,
Who are too acquiescent to it,
And well acquainted with it.
As it demands political acumen
That defines the acme of democracy.
Not autocracy,
Detests acidulous rulers,
Who develop quirks
To become acquisitive personalities.
Egocentric.
Raising their hands to quell the feelings
Ever in a querulous tone of voice
Ending up in quibbles
Both with the minorities,
And the majorities,
And sparing not the authorities.
To suck up to them.
To come up with funny quips
As quislings.
That all and sundry
Are left in a quandary;
Since to them
Neither a banana
Nor an orange
Or any other fruit
Can quench its thirst
Without a qualm about their stand.
And virtually nothing comes on a silver platter;
Always there is a price to pay later.
And not their dreams to shatter
Even though they dwell in the gutter.
But indeed a quid pro quo of a kind
That needs a lot of qusto to wind
And seems as distant as a pulsar
Whose drive you can’t quash
Whose desire you must succum
Whose desire is succint
To its acolytes.
Acquitted splendidly in its path
Without acrimony,
Without mean acrobatics.
Sociocentric.
Both full of sympathy,
And empathy,
And the acceptance,
And the appreciation
Of the uniqueness,
Of the diversity,
Of the peoples and cultures,
Nurtured by nature
For this is the real conquest of the quest.
I have cried those violent prayers
hurled them, venom filled, cursing
all the powers that be - but aren’t.
Seething in the roiling pit of rage
alone amid the nothingness of all,
yet still felt the presence of a
something, a texture, a tenuous
touch of windblown curtain brush
against my clenched and hateful
fists. I pounded mercilessly on the
sands of doubt’s mirage, laid siege
the bastions of the liars, fled in
fear of a power’s lack of power.
A strength now shown so weak,
a vision’s searing heat laid cold,
an emptiness so full it led to
barren desolation, blank and
blackened dreams. I wept.
Not for me but for he who was
sacrificed so that I could become
me, for the child denied his chance
to live free of me, my hate, my rage,
my past, my pain. And so my prayers
are violent and loud in an effort to
awaken a deaf and distant God.
My prayers do not beseech forgiveness,
nor toss bouquets of unwarranted praise
to acquiescent arrogance. I pray not
for others who are capable of praying
for themselves. I pray as violently as
the wind blows, as heatedly as the
desert sun, as proudly as the leaves
of Fall, as meekly as the buds of
Spring, as coldly as the glacial gales.
I pray with the passion of the seasons,
the faith of a bumblebee’s pollination,
the hope of the sightless mole digging,
the love of the shrieking Eagle’s devotion
to the air currents. I pray as a Lark
who sing in empty canyons hearing
only the reverberation of his song.
I pray – for praying is the song of life -
and life - its voice.
John G. Lawless
9/3/2014
for Regina Riddle - Prayer poetry contest
(alternately titled: aery diction galloped jocosely)
Abbreviation asper "FAKE"
abdication (wishful thinking),
an aberration Trump accepted
abjuration (or alternative) i.e.
ablation, thee apprenticed
president, would never forsake
abnegation (sooner his cold,
dead paws pried loose Putin
on the Ritz Carlton), this
abomination, his indiscriminate
abrogation appears (underwent)
acceleration autocratic accentuation
Americans aver acceptation,
acclamation, acclimation,
accommodation "FAKE"
accreditation, averse Hispanic
refugee acculturation, he blithely
asseverates, viz faux (trumped up)
accumulation unfairly fingering
accusation (baseless bigotry)
scapegoating fifty plus shades
brown illegal aliens despite
provable residency status
conveniently citing himself
perforce repetition validates
accustomation touts "FAKE"
non hardy laurels spilt, spelt,
and smelt acetification reign
ruination unleashing acetylation
promoting political acidulation
SCOTUS acrimonious activation
authoritarian smug egoistic
actualization nepotism, jingoism,
despotism actuation atavistic,
apathetic, allergic adaptation
acquiescent, arrant, abhorrent
adjudication Machiavellian aggressive
adjuration acrimonious atrocious
administration alarming, appalling,
arresting admiration abysmal,
artificial, asymmetrical adoration
awful adulation, ambivalent
apathetic adulteration avast
averse adumbration adulteration
affair advocation barren aeration
puffed hirsute aerosolization.
Christmas is calling~ Get your decorations out.
In these hard days, it will help you to not pout.
The lights don't belong in a box when people are filled with fear.
Get them on early, light them,and God you will be bring you cheer.
There's simply no reason to dwell on these insane times.
So decorate early, trust me, it will make your heart shine.
It's up to you, to make this the most joyous time of year.
Who cares what people think?
Most of the world is intoxicated on media covid-cocktail drinks.
And I do soulfully think that exaggerated fear plain stinks!
We are still social animals, who need one another.
For shame on all, who think we must hide at home under the covers.
Just saying~ living in lockdown since March?
Is more than any human should take, such a political farce!
It's more than disgusting to be blocked from spiritual solace,
BUT oK by government loons, to in gambling partake.
Or worse, allowed unlimited to harm others in a riot.
But to meet with the leader of the free world, no they won't allow it?
Drunk on fear, freedoms gone out the window.
Do you really think you will get them back, as you won't do a thing!
Or...Just hide in acquiescent shadows?
10-30-2020
2
I,I,I,I, don't know what got me here.
My soul is impacted with heartbreaking despair, and logic is dim and unclear.
Should I have?
Should I have stopped him from walking out the door?
Should I have expressed my feelings more to the core?
Was I?
Was I too intrusive or hollow during his moments of introspections?
Was I beastly in measuring his fervor revelations?
Now I.
Now, I sit and stew and contemplate if we ever were compatible.
Now, I think that maybe I grazed his tender brow on how a relationship should work, and I think; is my demeanor implacable?
Was I?
Was I on a collision course to destroy the nature of such an acquiescent and loving man?
Was I less attentive during our talks and more distrait and that, maybe that's how it all began?
Many days befuddlement has siege my mind rendering me illogical and blind.
Many days I find myself standing in front of the mirror, bare of any wanting to make anew.
Many times I tell myself that it was my phlegmatic spirit that causes our love affair to fall through.
Many days my brooding has no resolution, potion, or notion.
Maybe.
Maybe the situation is not as complex.
Maybe he will call or maybe he will text.
Maybe my state of mind is too devoured, and I care less what happens next.
August 6, 2021
oft times brutal not so short,
but nasty acknowledgement,
(this anonymous, conscientious, efficacious...
frivolous gent writhes at bloody history),
yet mindful premeditated how to be worthy,
and now feels forced to be acquiescent
(as well other citizens might) calling
(er...actually writing), an August
aegis body vowing to be adherent
to codas, doctrine, ethos...adjacent
with government sanctioned destruction,
and indefinite adjournment
of peaceful coexistence with native peoples,
who never accepted unfair (raw deal) adjustment
(most often forced with violence) preceded,
and/or followed by admonishment
of aggressive, corrosive, deceptive...
indiscriminate butchering and adolescent
women and children,
an irrevocable Janus-faced advancement
fate awaiting all aboriginal tribes
fueled by advertisement frequently with bounty
fast forward to present age of affluent
price tag to lobby and or represent
deliberate gerrymandered voting districts,
where trumped up agent orange
iz new black aggrandizement
finds Donny Brooks saturing the media
with proclamation defamation of this very day
stigmatizing valuable news as so subtly "FAKE"!
Shadow’s Passion
by Odin Roark
A child’s imagination holds light’s oft guised presence in wonder,
As adult recklessly consume its flame of spirit and heart.
Left behind are ashes of once conscious pursuits
Now reduced to icy coals of ignorance
Once the far off enemy of reason.
However…
Our innately wired candles
Desperately protect the threatened glow,
While ravenous hunger continues insatiate,
Stretching, invading, smothering
Life’s illuminative entitlement and privilege.
As the nescient pandemic rages
Nature’s glimmer fights back,
Casting ever faithful shadows at first,
Preparing for revealment,
Inviting children with dreams to enjoin as companion and buddy
While unsullied conscience finds continuance
And its rightful chance.
Fortunately…
Enough will discover light’s natural purpose
Its perseverance in gradually presenting epiphany’s overhead moment
When the undeniable becomes a singular reality,
When shadow’s invisible passion is embraced,
Even as adulthood’s arrival often threatens imagination
Into an acquiescent and shadowless landscape.
Prowling the darkest terrain of my mind,
He hunts for an aperture to govern me.
He wants only to cause turmoil and suffering,
My own personal Demon...
His talons sink in deeper,
Forewarning that he does not wait.
My hands begin to judder,
Uncertain who will reign.
His voice is stern yet charming,
His dominance veiled with words.
He seeks for my succumbing,
To whims of pain and hurt.
Breaths are now restricting...
The twinge begins to surge,
My Demon hears my pleading
And longs to make it worse.
My legs are now convulsing,
The tears, they streak my cheeks.
My demon coils with passion,
And falls down to his feet.
The swell of his emotion,
Begins to make him ache.
Longing for that moment,
To try and take my place.
While he’s lying joyous,
Acquiescent to his fate,
I propel my mental barrier,
And lock it into place.
His reply is but a whisper,
Now locked behind the gate.
He’s merely waiting patiently,
To try again some day…
Form: