Long Blissful ignorance Poems
Long Blissful ignorance Poems. Below are the most popular long Blissful ignorance by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blissful ignorance poems by poem length and keyword.
What is nowadays West, in a moment of relaxation
While you wait for the green on a crossroad:
Impressions dissolve in stuffiness, preceding rainfall,
Although there are no other signs of rain.
Poor Jim Morrison, the whole generation
Of melancholic, alco-dependant kids
Was growing old, listening in awe to his invocations.
He clearly stated the west is the best,
We quickly and joyfully surrendered,
Puffing rings, bowing languidly to the rhythms of the End.
Fortunatelly, my West stays the same, in general
Though compared to Morrison’s time
West may look a bit more Babylonian.
You get clusters of towers, mounting up
Which are the cathedrals of Marduk,
Who is the most disguised of all the Gods,
But even he is disclosed
For those who wish to know -
Needless to say, there are very few initiates.
Whereas the majority live in blissful ignorance,
Using those towers like homes,
They elevate up and down, go in and out
Doors revolve every second in perpetual motion.
Tower people are happy about their work and after hours
And whatever else they are happy about in the depths of shallow bustle,
Unbeknownst to themselves, Mardukians
Unknowingly serve their obscure God
Who uses his almighty power
Just for the fun of it, like the other Gods did,
Until their cult passed into oblivion.
THE POINT OF TIME
From the initial first breath to the very last
Is a life that has to be given room to grow
And time to think, if only to know oneself
The future beckons yet recognises the past
Realising those things that one might know
Nothing is to be ignored or left on a shelf
They say that time can be the great healer
But only if pain or damage has been done
Yet sometimes that’s the basis of learning
When experience becomes a true revealer
And the acquisition of knowledge is begun
Feeding the flames when fire starts burning
But then, in time, when days grow shorter
And one sees others only half way there
Children are in blissful ignorance, it seems
Perhaps descendants of a son or daughter
Life experience, it’s almost a duty to share
Among the facts, leave room for dreams
The water gushes through rocks
Sounding like whispers of fondness
Or shouts of frantic screeches
But you never get to actually witness
the need or the prospect of
Either advances, oh bless!
An eternal struggle
Of maintaining the balance
Between knowing and not
And learning the dance
Between awareness
And Ignorance,
That is how we live
And oh, how we prance!
The clueless suspense
With every wait and delay,
And the boiling rage
For an injustice we pay,
What with the pleasure
On the sight of a loved soul
And the pain that pierces
With a separation, even eternal,
Can create the space we occupy –
The not-so-very-sweet middle!
Exists in an unsaid word
The space of mystery,
Around the period of pause
The place of uncertainty,
Within the confines of restraints
The state of impossibility,
Circling the unknowns
The bay of possibility,
And yet, to all pictures so wonderous
Oh how with confidence, we pose for posterity!
Is it the earth
And its non-stop motion
Or the air
With its ever present notion
Or, is it the infinite universe
Boasting its obscurities
That has lured us to persist
Amidst the parallel realities --
In the blissful ignorance,
We ignore at every instance?!
Yet, Ironically,
Between two polarities
there is life -
despite crammed amidst emptiness,
Riddled and confounded
By its messy and fantastic entices!
And, oh how very hard we try
To attain, or are we little more wise?
Does that question,
Fortunately, or unfortunately,
Or ever so slightly
Lie in the gap so innately -
And maybe,
Just maybe,
We might never know –
Simply never,
Not with any shake or quiver!
Holidays are meant to be significant for enjoyment!
The problem is that the proposal for engagement is met with pure blissful ignorance!
Denying my words for a union of an engagement!
Was wrong as you lied to a person that wanted to build a bridge based on acceptance!
Stay within the confounds of your status as you will not live in bliss!
You focused on a symptom of similarities and not of outwardness!
Due to your lies and ignorance I am not inclined to change your status to misses from miss!
I am a man that when given the chance will go to straightforwardness!
You gave up on improvement!
You would rather be in denial!
It is sad that you would not look at me as a form of improvement
You look at your future in a form of a person that likes to see the truth of being a person that likes to beguile!
Enjoy your stupidity and go forth!
Our gardeners planted seeds in a box
And got a garden.
They watered that garden
And got an orchard.
They cultivated that orchard,
And got a forest.
A forest of beautiful men and women,
Of all walks of life.
Some tall, some short,
Some light, some dark,
Some fruitful and generous,
Others austere.
But through all the toil,
The gardeners,the cultivators
Continued to prune,
To refine even the smallest of trees.
Like a mother and child
Even when things got tough
Like overtime with no pay,
They got their reward.
They got their fruitage
From the very garden they watered,
The very orchard they cultivated.
We have been given a foundation
To build upon
And we took to it.
Sank our roots deep
And stretched our leaves high.
Foundations that will not crumble
When exposed to the elements.
Nor will they give out
In times of need.
We remember it like it was yesterday
We were fresh seeds in gilded soil
Ready to take on the world
With smiling masks on our faces.
But within an unseen struggle commenced.
A battle to separate the wheat from the weeds
The men from the mice.
The runners from the crawlers.
To prove that we have what it takes
To hold our own and emerge
From the darkness of virgin minds
And blissful ignorance.
So here we are - the wheat,
The men and women,
Ready to walk out that door
And become your tomorrow.
Separately, we cannot cause a ripple,
But together, we can move the world.
Form:
I Have A Life.
I Call it My Non Life
and everyone feels sorry for me.
"He lives alone, never picks up his phone,
never has anyone over to his home.
He must be so miserable and lonely.
You should get out there Bill.
Have yourself a thrill
there's so much out there to see and do, so many great people to meet
but you lock yourself away day after day in your self made cell/cave in defeat."
That's why I'm an alien in my own world you see.
Nobody on this planet can Identify with me.
I "enjoy" My Non Life otherwise I wouldn't be
living My Non Life obviously.
So all of you out there continue living your ignorant lives so blissfully
and I'll "enjoy" my life style living in constant misery.
All of you hang on to your blissful ignorance for as long as can be.
If you ever become too aware as I am you'll be cursed for Life like me.
The blissful ignorance of self-denial
as a means to self-awareness and inner meaning
denies the selfless bliss of
service and love for others.
To make less of self,
to cease selfish cravings and desires,
is more about striving to satisfy
the needs of others than to
blast away at what you think you need
to satisfy and satiate, your own inner selfish needs.
Self-denial is a dead-end fork
on the road to self-awareness.
For the blind cessation of self, if unrequited,
lets frustration break out
into unresolved blights and sores
that you alone cannot heal.
The path to less self-awareness
lies in unselfish selflessness
to others.
When we silence the noise, of our electric clock
wake-up, turn on lights, and our coffee pot
Should we feel shame, for what we have done
or in blissful ignorance, greet the morning sun
millions of people perform this ritual everyday
Without thought of consequence, just time saved
Some men, wives and children seek only to survive
others use time to plunder and destroy all alive
The path of life's maze fixed by our choices in life
nescient of truth, all choice will lead us to strife
Kept weak, hopeless, fearful, no query is raised
Is it apathy or a delusion, men take to their grave
dregs of the waste, have defiled air, sea and sand
befouled Gods heaven, killing both plant and man
A priority, we created, pillaged humanity on earth
Pantology repressed, only to seed arrogance not mirth
The people's voices muted, because of some men's greed
but, questions persist, and now we all must take heed
I am only a farmer, tasked with planting some seed
as a caretaker of land, my life is to cultivate and weed
An estimate, of 60 years needed to decontaminate the land
What men built, planting their nuclear seed in the sand
Take time to think, talk and inquire of all that is planned
Please put, a pen to paper, instead of heads in the sand
The future life of plants, animals and the humanity of men
Rests in The Peoples Voices and Words from their pen
wearing
blinders we don't see the big picture clearly
we remain lost in a blinding pogonip
never finding our way out
of its dense, misty blanket
akin to
looking at the world
with jaundiced eyes, especially when the world
is no
clearer than
besmirched lens
keeping us from entertaining
novel ideas, seeing
situations from another perspective
such close-mindedness
does beget cynicism in
the final analysis
a celebration of blissful ignorance
to see things
as they are
we must stay awake and keep our eyes open.
Suzette Prime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
Syllable count: 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, etc PLUS a philosophical statement
Date written: 01/28/2021
they say that there's a dance hall
right beneath this lake of sawdust
where underwater towns
have gone astray
and I can hear the harpies
the bagpipes
and I can smell
the burning petals
after we set the house ablaze
the blissful ignorance
of ghosts and revolvers
is pure nonsene
– as coup d'état of yours
still smiling distantly
but one day your goodness
will make you lipless, my dear
and then I will lull you by
the misty weather
verdant
fragrant
lucidly mystical
dazzling as a bell jar glance
existence matters – ad interim
and as the old gatekeeper
uses his trembling gestures
to swing the pendulum
tell me, my plain-hearted one:
ruby red or beryl blue?
does it really matter to you?
with all your childish devotion
please release
the drones
'cause thou art lost
and love is the law
love under will