Long Categorical Poems
Long Categorical Poems. Below are the most popular long Categorical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Categorical poems by poem length and keyword.
The day, the soil lab took care of him, and I sighed
Categorical exclusion, You were there, but almost Nye!
My outspoken, my hidden, my own darker trace
My grace, rancid disgrace, my song and my own mess
Did I ever tell you? I loved you with all my heart, I loved you all!
I had no desire, there, my nihilistic call, they are not an easy Pickthall!
I startled, I stumbled , I ran, I walk and I snore, sneeze and yawn!
I craft and in my propeller shaft, I fly, with flying try, I try simply not to frown!
These are not all stemming from me, these are the imprinting gemstones of praying tea
You are a done deal only to compose , not to take heed before you even try to say, once again to me!
These are white lies, your sweater moment drops on your life, legend and universal truth
And all they say is to look after your giggling imagism before it handles him too, to soothe beneath the bluetooth!
April, 2025
(Twelve beautiful lines )
On the day after Jesus’ death, on Preparation Day,
Which was when the Jews removed yeast from bread,
That was to be eaten like clockwork on the Saturday,
When the Jews were ruminating on if the events lead,
To their extinction and diminution, their downfall,
In Israel’s land so advanced for its time and place,
By their argument with the government categorical,
Over whether to redirect taxation onto Jesus’ face.
So the chief priests and the pharisees’ political party,
Got together then and discussed with great thought,
What policy to suggest to Pilate and with what clarity,
To maintain the normal state, to keep what they’d got;
They said, When Jesus was living he claimed he’d arise,
From the dead, so his disciples will engineer this fate,
They will steal his body but report to the people his eyes,
Are alive, and that he is awake. Please tell us how to wait?
So Pilate ordered these upholders of the government realm,
To put their soldiers on guard duty and secure the tomb,
As best they could, and they obeyed and took the helm:
So they sealed the stone and posted a guard, so no womb.
But they didn’t count on a massive big terrifying earthquake,
Whilst the two Mary’s were gazing upon the tomb, cold,
Which they took advantage of by the movement horrific,
Of the stone being shaken, deserting its grounded hold.
The two Mary’s faces alit, they smiled broadly with hope,
And jumped up, using the force of the quake to stand,
And pushed with all their strength the stone and could cope,
Because the quake at one point favoured their hand.
The soldier guard was humiliated and didn’t was to admit,
To his failure to prohibit anyone from removing the stone,
Allowing the body to be made into nothing, cremated, lit,
So he said nothing happened to Pilate in a very serious tone.
The Humans Terrain
Undulating mountain ranges that cry out for slow release
Ambulating strangers that are covered in polluted grease
Dictating derangers that covet the Golden Fleece
Translating trainers that have broken their contractual lease
Commiserations for the silent ones who never speak a word
Invigorations of the violent guns who deal in the gratuitous and absurd
Continuations of the resilient suns that shine like they have been heard
Obligations for the wires bent for runs that have had the lines all blurred
Contamination of the water sources and slights upon the proud
Observations of the four main horses that come down upon the clouds
Celebrations of the multiple courses that defy the logic of the loud
Condemnation of the armed forces that illuminate a mushroom shroud
Ideological premises that combine to fill a season
Phenomenological nemesis that refine to environmental treason
Categorical messages that define philosophical reason
Allegorical sentences that design an artistic state of glee’s ion
Affluential indulgence circulating around the priveledged few
Monumental divergence insulating the poverty stricken from the news
Transcendental convergence incubating as the profundity is used
Non judgemental resurgence confiscating the subtle shades of colour among the hues
Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025
(alternately titled -
today's lesson iz
addressing categorical imperative)
Courtesy of unpleasant he
ping diatribes visited me
from eldest offspring ugh gree
guss vituperations, doth force me
to admit (and take key
lock, stock, and barrel
lamentations to heart), that she
(Eden Liat) didst
perceive (hence nee),
interpret as her reality
regarding my actions,
intents, words, et
cetera men knee
instances of objectionable
dealing with situations
of mine mien to thyself
(lamely, meekly, and nervously
pleading being oblivious),
nonetheless purportedly untoward
fatherly behavior, said kin recoils
in reaction to extremely re:
pulse sieve, no matter,
whether paternal behavior
of mine unintentional (see
ming lee) find
ding total unawareness
as poor excuse, which does not
hold candle box
three doors down, nor
bankable, dutiful guarantee
hence this papa, heed decree,
his displeasing, now accepting
onerous task of child rearing
inflicted hurtful affects asper,
mismanaging challenges
as legal guardian,
and thus grievously, honestly,
and readily attests averse
to hold a mirror be
fore my person as
proof positive aware
ness, and accept,
how I usurped carte blanche
(parental role, no
matter honest intentions,
sans welfare of daughters)
unknowingly shamefacedly interpreted
as unflattering about me
whom willy nilly
bandied authoritarian free
reign (and/or rein)
recounting mine foibles, viz
despite my best intentions,
impressions, and iterations
as even handed sues err un tee
I mint jewel
lip succoring (suzerainty)
spurring the conundrum,
que who, what,
and how does one pre
sent lee define
true intentions, and whether
neutral stance can be cree
jewel less lee codifies, si?
We are the people of a new era, with patchwork hearts and longings in craters,
The generation of bold dreams sketched on shards of fallen stars.
Let us not forget, let us breathe in: the source of dizzying love springs from our depths,
From the secret garden of the self, where I and me merge in an embrace.
I shall not build a home in handshakes that wither flowers nearby,
I dare to cross over waters when my soul calls, barefoot on the soil of my resolutions,
Where those like me blossom, rising like walnuts in the midst of the desert - unfathomable, ever-growing.
Abandoned will be those masters of bitter whims, whose tangos crushed petals instead of igniting passions,
Those who sketch maps of woe on your beating heart, with anchors of injustice.
I shall be my keeper, the well-digger who delves deep until waters tear free from the dry sand.
I will speak in the voice of opening, with the heavy eyelids of sifted honesty,
I will listen with the blood, with the resonant cavity of my chest, a sacred space of resonance.
Trust in the arrow of the heart, that compass steering our journey through the dispersion of genuine kisses.
Remember, love is the expanse of the ocean that joins us in growth, not the steering of ships towards collision,
It's an ally, which, like the sun in the fight with the dawn, gives you the warmth needed to blossom in cold limestone.
Let's lay side by side the open books of our souls, page next to page of grand becoming.
And above all, over thought and feeling, I shall not leave to oblivion my case valued in divine gold,
I owe a love that rises beyond words, conditions, and chains,
A belief in my own purpose, a categorical refusal to accept anything less than stellar.
Believe in your own divinity, in the waves that beat at your eternity's gate, within you –
The house of love that knows no foreign altar, only its own, vigorous and freely sculpted.
A cautionary tale of nocturnal abduction
Of trickery born of unearthly corruption
Heed these my words, I state categorical
Of evil so foul, in a world diabolical
No humour here that might ever be satirised
No wit in a man who be dumbstruck and paralysed
These, the last words that shall flow from my pen
Implore thee to leave ’fore the bat flys again
This God forsook kingdom of bloodied terrain
Deadens my legs as it scribes on my brain
A Halloween vista of gore ridden mud
With vampires feasting on alien blood
31 October 2020
For...
Contest: Halloween Challenge
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
He said,
Your faith community's secularizing problem
is too much dogmatically intolerant rigidity.
You reek of green political correctness.
She replied, indefinitely concluding,
You are undoubtedly right,
our sacred opportunity
too slowly grows win/win principles
of nature/spirit indigenous integrity
We speak of blue empowerment
through green cooperative enlightenment,
Yet shun the rightwing dominant
red patriarchs
we only find useful
in regenerative beds
For flowers
and vegetables,
ornamentals
and edibles,
polyculturally designed
to follow multicultural polypaths
to notice transubstantiating co-relationships
necessarily precede healthy
rebirth wealth
Not only rising and falling daily
weekly
monthly
seasonal life
But also noticing cycles
and spirals
daily circles of rising to enlightenment
from the same dream bed
where we, in previous dark of nightfall,
fell freely unfree into disempowering
ecosytemic ego's leftbrain dominant
verbalizing either/or thoughts
and categorical labels
prickly restricting
dark box constricting
deducting power
reducing light
from free win/win green cooperative,
win/lose red competitive,
integrity of full-circle thought
feelings
Looking forward
as dawn greets greying skies
this day
and night
yet another full and emptying circle
re-imagining our win/lose dogmatic indoctrinations
into win/win indigenously organic freedoms
of integrity's vast warm green
cooperatively blue
recycling potential
To smell and taste
of refreshing cooperative
healthy political empowerment
through economically co-invested
green indigenously new/old
transubstantiating communion circles
of health/wealth thriving
compassioning enlightenment.
A business man called Frederic travelled all the world searching the answer for the emptiness he felt very deep inside him. One day he heard about a wise man that live at the top of a mountain. He made the arrangements to meet the guru. Once, he arrived to the place, he started to climb to the mountain to reach the top and ask the questions that had in his mind for many years and still searching for the answers that will soothe his soul.
Frederic greeted the guru known as Sri Aadhrya. He was living in the mountain for more than twenty years. Visited by politicians, actors and professionals. Frederic asked the guru if they return for a second consultation. The answer was a categorical no. Frederic was very surprised with the answer received. The guru asked Frederic what he wants to know. Frederic thought for many minutes the question he was going ask. With great security in him he make the question to the guru.
Why I am not happy with myself? I am the CEO of a very important company, have a mansion as a house, a very expensive car, a wife that looks like a stunning model. However, I do not feel happy. Sadness is my secrete companion. The guru looked to Frederic at the eyes and said to him: an executive position, a wealthy status, a luxury car or a gorgeous partner not are synonyms of happiness. They are complements to your life. Annoyed with the answer, Frederic departed without saying goodbye.
Ten years later, Frederic came back to the mountain to see the guru. When reached the most highest part of the mountain, he met the guru for a second time. The guru asked to Frederic how was his life during the last decade. Frederic without hesitating told to the guru that he discovered after visited him that happiness begins with you, but he did not found the way to return and tell the truth discovered until that day. The guru smiled, since Frederic was the first one to return back and accept the truth.
The End
Nayda Ivette
12-25-2015
Protective Lyricism for the Ages Part Two
Martin Luther King creating a path to dessimate discrimination
An angel earning his wings from an epiphany of prophetic elation
Listening to Ella Fitzgerald sing while learning a litany of biblical quotations
Acknowledging what the accomplished man can bring to the depth of your insight and notations
Reflection on the history of mankind and the human race
Detection of the mystery of the refined acquisition of Heavenly Grace
Invention of the symphony that defined its own musical place
Prevention of the epiphany in the name of the legitimate corruption that we all must face
Culture and thought, revolution and resistance
Vultures distraught at the economic powers inability to accept difference
Subcultures contort beneath the robotic clandestine inference
As agriculture evades the poisonous attempts to regain universal prominence
Can you remain content to wipe the tears from a broken child’s eyes?
Will you refrain to vent when confronted with the fears of a vulnerable persons cries?
Will you remain content and resolute when presented with categorical lies?
Can you see through a charlottan selling snake oil and prevent him from orchestrating further demise?
Stand tall among the uncertainty and the acrimony and defeat
Create a call for continuity as the less evolved struggle to compete
Lauren Bacall and her comical purity as her timing is complete
Lucifers fall from heaven that remains spiritually almost now obsolete
As the heightened notions of virtue overcome the notions of hell
And the frightened invocations of servitude become commotions for the brave to tell
While the enlightened devotions of gratitude arise from the men who initially fell
The power rises above the certitude of any humanly epiphany or spell
Embrace the new creations of progressive thought in actions
Face the few negative connotations of suggestive criticism of your exactions
Replace the two imitations of corrective empiricism of your protractions
Disgrace the blue intonations of all defective invitations to celebrate protective lyricism that requires astute observations
The End
Copywright Elizabeth Moroz 2023
Christmas 2021
Making it Personal
Written: By Miracle Man
December 18, 2021
My life’s most preeminent gift,
wasn’t encompassed in a wrapped box with ribbons,
and bows, nor found neath a tree.
The greatest gift I’ve ever received,
was given to me over 2000 years ago,
in the form of a swaddling wrapped baby.
Jesus Christ was God’s gift,
and the expression of His categorical love for me.
This gift was free and there’s nothing I could/can do to earn it.
Money, good deeds, or social status
cannot procure my spot in heaven.
This gift was the expression of God’s love,
and I feel so blessed to be a witness of this love to others.
More than once Jesus has touched my life with hope, and promise,
I’m a recipient of His grace and mercy.
His love for me is a reflection of His unconditional love for all mankind,
Jesus laid down his life to purchase my freedom from sin.
My only requirement to receiving this gift of God, was acceptance,
and on August 27th 1968 I accepted this gift as my personal savior.
Since, Jesus Has Been The Reason For My Season
Happy Birthday Jesus!