Long Calculative Poems
Long Calculative Poems. Below are the most popular long Calculative by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Calculative poems by poem length and keyword.
An ancient mariner in the seamless sea,
I’m sailing for ages in the intuited undefined course
in sparkling sunshine and tormenting tempest,
on the rolling timeless teal waves,
rising high to sanguine sky, falling low to onyx depression,
as my boat pitches, I toil to float in journey uncertain.
The moonless opaque nights descend
with the debris of shrouded stars on the charcoal sea,
the sky sinks in the ebony horizon, nothing I can see,
but to reach the land beyond the bleak misty veil
I need to sail determined for long and far,
lost and lone in the alien sea I scan my course for location.
I depend on the sailor’s age-old creed of confidence
to find by grand estimation where my life is presently placed,
trace a faint line of reckoning to the destination,
revealed by my prior position I’ve left behind.
The driving wind on the sagging sail is weak,
before the sunset to the promised land I must reach.
Navigating the prudent life in the dark night,
dragged by the discernment currents of destiny,
the dependable calculative compass of perception
defines the committed course I follow to be where I am.
During the span of the sensed slice of eternity I sail
from where I started with the acumen of dead reckoning.
Hush! Don’t utter a letter!!
Lo-they are coming ….
At this very moment they are coming,
Those you say enemies – they!
They are dragging away my father
Perhaps to there, to that hell
Maa, is that hell a dense forest
Or an unknown land?
May be it hell or heaven?
I want not to visit it !
Maa, kindly hide me
Hide me in your secure lap
Hide me behind the loose hanging end of your saree,
I’m extremely afraid, maa !
Behold ! Wind is panting
Air is heaving long sighs afflicted by death
To conceal magnanimity of light
The sky is dropping the screen of clouds !
Enduring earth is sucking fresh blood
Helpless angels bewildered,
In the jail of calculative humanity
Nude civilization imprisoned, senseless,
Confounded in frightened pain,
Maa,
Let us abscond to a remote land
A land where death never wears
The costumes of violence, apparel of executioner !
Where is that Utopia ?
Where is that paradise, Maa ?
Where is that protectors motherland ?
The poor are lazy, languid, and loafing – the rich rut,
Is this why many people of my nation have no hut?
Isn't the concept: every rich is industrious, a myth?
Isn't there a great gulf betwixt a blacksmith and a goldsmith...?
I know my rickshaw-puller neighbor, born in penury,
His ancestors were poor too for many a century;
Can I judge his hardships his sin or the sin of his dad?
Or the transgression of a system that has gone so bad...?
I have seen the rich climbing the ladder of life briskly,
The branches of trees of mammon, they catch hold so quickly;
Hard work and calculative effort, no doubt, are in them,
Don't cells of dishonesty occupy their root and stem...?
By tilling the earth and breaking rocks pennies the poor earn,
In torn rags they shiver in cold; in summer sun they burn;
Is begging a fashion that the poor bejewel them with?
Doesn't shame cut them to pieces, within, like grass in a scythe?
Poverty is a curse and not a blessing, the world knows,
Hunger, thirst, homelessness, and illnesses paucity sows;
Undernourished children, like cattle, are pushed to labor,
The poor are, often, abhorred and loathed by each rich neighbor...!
Isn't fighting poverty a duty of every person?
Doesn't, by the vile of inequality, crises worsen?
God has made the mammon for all - this fact each one should know,
The concept of living and letting live, each should follow...!!!
28 March 2023
Writing Challenge - 'P' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
Be bold like Socrates,
Be fearless like diogenes,
Be strategic like Chanakya,
But never, you.
Be straightforward like Aristotle,
Be calculative like Archimedes,
Be a statesman like Machiavelli,
But never, you.
Be learned like Eratosthenes,
Be stultifying like Sophocles,
Be imaginative like Herodotus,
But never, you.
Be dedicated like Plato,
Be caring like Hippocrates,
Be daring like Herostratus,
But never you.
Be brave like Leonidas,
Be tactical like Themistocles,
Be liberator like Thrasybulus,
But never, you.
Be loving like Paris,
Be defending like Hector,
Be attacking like Achilles,
But never, you.
Be ambitious like Caesar,
Be victorious like Alexander,
Be illustrious like Pompey,
But never you.
Be determined like Washington,
Be proud like Tarquin,
Be devoted like Magdalene,
But never you.
Be curious like Da Vinci,
Be creative like Tesla,
Be observing like Newton,
But never, you.
Be fiery like Hitler,
Be silent like Coolidge,
Be perseverant like Rowling,
But never, you.
Be barbarous like Ghengis Khan,
Be paranoid like Stalin,
Be terrible like Ivan,
But never, you.
Be disturbing like Osho,
Be calm like Krishnamurthy,
Be charismatic like Vivekananda,
But never, you.
Be spiritual like Shankaracharya,
Be materialistic like Charvaka,
Be enlightened like Buddha,
But never, you.
Translating ideas through energetic muscles
and calculative minds
is his doing
knowledgeable tricks and wise options
converted to the physical for the honour and glory
is his aim.
The one at the top of the chain
possesses his own repertoire.
A personality with tactical onus
is the one and only expectation.
Catastrophic it is;
when such a charisma is tempered with
An effective philosophy gives him fame
but ambiguity in strategy wins the point
a winning atmosphere brings out his etiquette
a loss- he treats so diabolical.
Every attack is a litmus test
mental kunfu blended naturally
with physical dynamism in display
closing down angles, tight markings
speed injection, courage cultivation,
identity-showing formations with opponent-neutralizing weapons,
massive onslaught, defensive solidity and quick counters
all for a harvest of victory
coming from the equations of his thoughts
watered by distinctive motivational skills.
A team player who's always outside the line
The football Manager is he!
Not every day is for me,
And I think it is quite true.
I found me devastated in a tiring day
And I wished for the time to pass through.
When I was little, I had a cut in my leg, with a water bottle
I was feeling guilty for breaking the water bottle, and I was trying to hide
Not knowing that my every footstep had blood, going everywhere with me
My parents did not scold me, not a single word to take against
But I was too afraid for the broken bottle, not for me.
I was feeling the same, after a long time...
Maybe I am worried too much for an uncertain present.
Trying to be calculative, not knowing where I truly belong.
Perhaps it is time to kiss goodbye, the love of my life.
For, sometimes, letting go has no other alternatives in life.
I kissed the face of my boy at night,
I was holding him close to me
And I felt, nowhere is there for me to hide now,
I wished these bleeding moments were not for me.
I am like an avalanche slithering in shivering angst,
free-falling into an abyss of an aching era,
where luminous lakes reflect pixelated regrets,
for time throws my canvas into splitting helplessness,
and mind plays tricks in aimless frequency,
framing toneless tenors within paralyzed psyche,
pushing and pulling ivory strings of my ebony heart.
Now I’m dwelling in the chaotic caves of a calculative carnivore,
unable to grasp the lunar light that envelopes forsaken fields,
while crooning caged memories, like a pensive nightingale,
pondering, would the moon ever untangle these starless thoughts?
Or was it written on the wailing walls of melancholic museums~
that I was meant to drown in dizzying darkness?
I’ll rest my pen in a glass casket of equations~
cloaking this crippled conscience from seeing beyond vague visions,
detached from kohl eyes, eager to steal my voice,
as I keep sinking in black and white polarity,
pausing curative prose in screeching silence.
A Game
Chequered
!
Verbose;
Pawned divinity
Words are pieces
Phrases are moves
Players' wordsmiths
Egos crowned kings
Drawn out are words
Empty stands sheath
Reveal your Chess
Strategy-Tactics
Grand master Mikhail Tal speak
On checker board strategies.
"The deep desires
Of a chess player
To lead opponent
Into deep
Forest
Dark
And
The
Path
As Way out
Narrow enough
For only one to fit.
Quintessential paradox
Of battle games with words
Insiders from their prison cages
Re-arrange pieces in endless loop
Noisy minds trapped in eerie silence
Tactics is knowing-
What's done when there’s something to do
Strategist is busy -
In making, in contemplating counter moves
The gamer: the cold calculative mover, brutal
in purpose, moves words, forward and backward
The gamer knows; the words shall be rearranged
Checkered boards of Chaotic; Noisy; Wordy; Game.
The sale
Buy one
Get Two
The-Chessmatic mover
The-Charismatic Baiter
Squarer of self and ego
the believer;the knower
Biting bytes; Now is No
In -A never ending loop
The Self
But One
Not Two
Settled-flow-words when soaked in love
Entrenched-in- compassion all powerful
Wherein in-mated in thoughts and deed
To,
Checkmate the words-as-bait- is tactics
Know,
The web of words is A dense wild forest;
It is A habitat of 'Mind's wild wanderings.
.
The gamer; moves words; fore backward
In another brutal checkered board game;
~
Tough in spending even in abundance of resources
Indifference shown to priority of any needed purchase
Giving is rendered a gruesome punishment to mankind
Hall of famer to the accuracy of the expression of feelings
Tight fisted, closed minded and currency conscious in all situations.
A swollen wallet ironically ignites the need for fewer expenses
River accumulating water to the point of flooding but never overflows
So in control of the inside irrespective of the nature of the outside
Even the cheapest budget suffers the axe of a calculative cut down