Long Chemical Poems
Long Chemical Poems. Below are the most popular long Chemical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chemical poems by poem length and keyword.
The Orderly Flame
In a burning chaotic fire there are beauty
There are acts and orderliness and a duty
There is a distinct ability in disabilities
There are arrangements in a burning fire
Find the orderliness in your addiction desire
And any other activities
To be an addict, in the language of the world
Is in a strict sense, a challenge of survival
It denies the seductive allure of substance use
It is a misplaced greed, marrying the chemical
Carving art from the degradation of the self
It is an outpaced desire that caught fire
The brown, enormous odour of the barn,
The simple sense of holding a cigarette,
The pipe, the usual routine, the behavior.
A trusted act, like a rooster deep in feast
With a throaty crow all swallowed by the chaos
Swinging from the rafters of the weary mind
Singing like a bird, but her voice was a cage
A tragic beauty pinned to the spotlight,
A wild elephant tied to the Iroko tree
Paying the cost of existence without belonging.
The junkie demon revealed, reels in an act
Though unwilling but consuming identity,
Demanding, deep in debt, leaving a life marred
By the decay of an extraordinary talent undone
I am both the thief, the store and the stolen
I know what I want, and I want what I know.
Given the opportunity, I choose the other I too know,
Locked in the portrait of the opoid or alcoholic.
Wrestling the complexities of recovery,
Searching for self-acceptance in the wreckage,
Still searching for the desire in the fire.
A hidden ambivalence makes a cry
This is the duality of the addiction demon
The bond that holds you in protracted captivity
Presents itself as your salvation
The only thing that makes you feel home.
Though you know it’s a lie, you still feel temporarily home
Help me cut the circle before starvation.
It is a struggle, a challenge and the change
Needs all support and wise exchange
Shyloch, Shyloch Ye of crippled writers block Howl !
Hipster!
Survivor of sanatoriums drug riddled needled dreams and cancer lobotomy fantasies!
Drowned out by the apathy of X-Factor modernity!
Shyloch whose machinery sprite faster through chemical brewing!
And welfare states following entitlement scripts that harm!
Shyloch whose crucifix and domed book wielding army!
Storm the gates of purgatory and blood banks filled with candy bats and posh race day hats!
Shyloch whose windows fell the courtyard sanctuary of apposing towers!
With flight bound death bellowing fumes airplane fusion bomb blinded tasting castor oil!
Oh, Shyloch of the taught band of algorithmic army fibers of lanyards forward recoil!
Which bend both time and continuum lines into matrix riddled computer chips!
That manifest themselves in pie and pillow smoke horror convex leprechaun glasses!
The shards of which Shyloloch stills, not Shyloch lenses, chart express Shyloch determination!
Shyloch. Shyloch in four dimensions cursed in parallel universes battles!
Sent forth into the hornets nest of hell's bells and brothers under fire of tyranny shot at!
Where mothers servitude pierces a twig grenade destined for destruction!
Where radio scowls of panic manic contact, I reality check my pulse bleeding Shyloch!
Bellow of Shyloch in taxis destined for parachutes fashioned out of mantle piece clock memories!
Counting down the seconds of kicking calamity's arsenal of empire and envy!
Propped up by the students of anarchy blooded as puppets in vegetarian camouflage!
Shyloch of peanut butter and jello meal times washed down with rat burgers!
Shyloch, Shyloch who posts cards inscribed with death marches chuckle!
Encased in sphinx library tombs resurrecting gold edifices suburbia Atlantis!
Oh Shyloch 2012 A.G, Molock of worldly news wares and carnival fares!
Tribute to A.Ginsberg Howl
Hello I see your face, it seems familiar.
I know you’re friendly in my sense-spared sensory.
A science undiscovered in the veil of speculation
all animals have the same marvels, a beehive of anti-separation.
A mechanism of creation, the working parts of intricate design.
Just whispering knocks of air echoing perfectly in streams of geometric beams
They bounce empty like the tap-drip and basin destitute from salvation
like overgrown vegetation concealing its foundations
A passing memory murmurs a smirk; for one moment you’re fighting its curse
overdosed on chemical commerce.
Your fingers are touching the hands of your births
Then lapsed, gripped, tension and Insanity of the absurd.
Some moments are worse.
You’re living a lost quasi-life; erasing the fear of death.
Hopeful for life and communication
Grasping at "life stations"
You are a soggy sand-castle merging with the tide,
in the blanket for the lost.
A fading picture almost complete and in a few more moments,
without reach and without touch.
Another day will dawn and your still buzzing away,
in the confusion of babies and the memories that stay.
The last three weeks have been a seemingly endless series of welcome parties, get-togethers, receptions, meet-and-greets and cocktail parties - every kind of cheesy or ostentatious soirée my Grandmère can throw together, she’s dragged me to. It’s hard to match her energy.
“You have to meet people,” she insists, “and they have to meet YOU.”
“And why?” I asked, eloquently, but there’s no use resisting - she’s tireless.
The Prime Minister of France - met him. The mayor of Paris, met him, the CEOs of Paribas, L’Oréal, TotalEnergies, AXA, met them, the ministers of the economy, interior and foreign affairs - met ‘em. The US ambassador to France, met him.
In the play “My Fair Lady,” Eliza, meeting people frantically at the races, repeats “How do you do,” over and over and over to great comedic effect. That’s how I feel at these parties, “Enchanté, enchanté, enchanté, enchanté, enchanté.” I say, turning in circles. I’ve met Emmanuel Macron before, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing him again soon. I haven’t met his wife though - I’d love to ask her about that slap.. hhmm.
Is it shocking that I’ve now met anyone who’s anyone at Université Paris Cité? No, because that’s how crazy-lady operates. “You meet everyone, eye-to-eye,” she lectures, “you have to get out of your bubble, and experience the world as interesting,”
That’s her favorite saying these days. “I don’t HAVE a bubble,” I replied, defensively, but she’s left the room - she’s never still. She seems to know we’re on the clock, that once med-school starts, (in September) I’m going to be all about that.
It’s Monday morning. I’ve been at the Shangri-La hotel pool, where we have full privileges, and I’m coated, like a potato, head to foot, with SPF 50 sunscreen - when who shows up?
Peter (my bf). “You’re early!” I say, not at all displeased, but I’m SO conscious of my tacky skin and chemical smell that I face-palm him as he comes in for a snog.
EEuuww. I can’t make-out with a guy when I’m all greased up.
“5 minutes,” I assured him, heading for the shower.
“I’ll join you,” he offered.
“Well, ok,” I chuckle.
.
.
Songs for this:
Better Days by NEIKED, Mae Muller & Polo G
This Girl by Kungs & Cookin' On 3 Burners
Cake By The Ocean by DNCE [E]
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Especially with motivational bias
Intrinsic or decoherent formation
The access levels breach by human mass
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Is due the common bias that supports
Desire for all process automation
The physical the fitness is the sport
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Whether desires of others shall we satisfy
The mass affect on psyches with exemptions
The mechanism is probably WIFI
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Implies that humans are the chemical the mass
Because all these in Internet and politics “reactions”
TerminolOgy of the human this bias
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Are differenciated between you and wild
And while is none the business yours is wild the nature
I am also one of you if I am filed
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Between my file in organs and the me
Existed maybe be rather for the penetration
The very outdated is your C
So let's address ID of yours
They say when children are the young
They seek their own ID
Perhaps their souls and their minds
Won't really fall for category of the fashionable stan??
In search for their Ids
In time of war prepare for peace
In time of peace prepare for war
What are you really for?
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Are fading as your prioritization are disproved
In seeking many ways for the monetization
Your whole existence is a giant unwanted spoof
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Between radar of military and the airplane
You reckon, buddy mine of the negation
That this particular the generalization
Would render system of your build as sane?
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Of weird human groups who's eager to assist
Resistance is a trait of this negation
My human right is kinda to resist
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Draws value out of you as you degrade
The round is degree of the 360
How is this calvin would convert to centigrade?
The mechanism of seeking the connection
The mechanism of seeking the connection
The mechanism of seeking the connection
The mechanism of seeking the connection
*organs are term in russian lingo for intelligence services, such as NSA in US, maybe because short for organization
the air is the dust
the air is the mass
the dust is the pane
the pane is the mass
the pane is the air of dust
the pane is the air of mass
mass is a pane of mass
the air is the chemical
the air is the pane
a chemical is a pane of chemical
a chemical is a pane of air
a chemical is a chemical of mass
a dust of air is a dust of mass
a dust of air is a dust of chemical
air,pane,mass
dust,pane,mass
intelligent is a air of intelligent
intelligent is a mass of intelligent
a pane intelligent is a pane mass of intelligent
a pane intelligent is a pane air
dust is dust of a air intelligent
I am the bon fire that brightens up the dark...
I can hear the poison whispers from ur heart..
equally as deadly as a poison dart
toxic chemical injected from the start
But I am the bon fire
I get stronger I get higher
and as the blood travels it wont take long
and everytime that ive been wronged
it didnt kill me it made me strong
i'm immune to the games you play
and i know all your wicked ways
And even with the shake you throw on me
I burn faster and higher like gasoline
and as i burn and severe ties
the more i open my own eyes
as i set that bridge on fire
i get stronger i get higher!!!
You, the watercolor of my dreams and codex of mystery,
You draw the cosmic shiver towards me, disturbing my peace;
You offer a dance of stellar swarms hidden in earthly forms,
You possess sublime gifts, courage, weaving genealogies of noble thoughts.
And as your hair gently falls, illuminating the city,
Like night flickering innocently and gracefully over day,
Soft, a river of shadows carrying the restless arcane;
Your steps penetrate in rhythms, born from sparkling stars in your shoes.
Within you lies an unfathomable cosmos, a labyrinth of secrets and ancient trees,
Where rural intertwines with urban, in the contours of a hidden new realm,
There, wars and the vulgar ebb away, amorphous and gregarious,
With delight and a soothing wave, everything transforms into blue canvases.
Ah, if you were a saga of the chemical dream,
And I, merely a palette under the sky painted with autumn leaves,
We would not be in this world, with theaters and liquid divinities, nothing more than
Two enigmas, building mazes that penetrate the depths of reality.
When I feel you, a sacred tremor lifts me, my soul treads into the abyss of senses,
Your voice, a call from beyond valleys, disturbs my rest with strange beckoning.
Why must you exist, in your seraphic form, in this world?
And now, why do you melt into the incomprehensible twilight like a precious phantom?
Creature adorned with sun-like drawings, unpredictable, impetuously enchanting,
Your smile, a silver snowflake finding its path on a delicate face,
You are the open path to pure madness, the other world within us,
You are slumbering cities, rivers of light in the encompassing nights, granting us oblivion.
Marathon Mile I RUN
As I stand here in the praise of the atmosphere;
My God transposes me ” I stand” engages my spirit?
Loafed and loaded I descend through a physical port;
Caught up and captured I’m a new birth;
Seed implanted transported fertilize egg;
Imparting chemical changes I am;
Human?
Port of call, “I walk” now involved;
In the christening of my new life;
Bonded and bordering physical life;
Encased in this flesh?
Such a sin full mess;
I run birth from spirit bone clay dirt and stone?
Chosen?
Filthy as a rag dirty and shameful!
Was birth in sin-nature?
Still I run shall this be my departure;
Life here “I run” on this earth;
Problematic ungrateful statue;
Shall be my departure, spirit inside sinful flesh;
Separated “I run” by DEATH,
Pending if I been born again;
Pending me asking for forgiveness;
While in my shame;
Did I call on His Name?
Jesus
Forgive me, Help me, Lord may I come back to heaven again?
12/21/18
2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
We lay bare next to the skin of the earth
watching mercury dancing around the restless sun
playing hide and seek in the burning heat
and penetrating mankind deception in the deep
Venus is orbiting the earth with its piercing light
casting shadows on the desperate arrows
and choking up the heavens
I don't know where they have laid him
but I can feel his current rumbling through the earth
ripping the stagnant river apart
and looking at the moon in the dark
I am sitting here waiting on the unknown
Heart throbbing billows rolling and
the deep blue sky is covering my head
The green trees are still standing tall
waiting for the anticipated fall
Saturn in riding on wings in big circles
it is the rock on which we stand
And it stabilizes the turbulent land
looking for the one who is able
to withstand its fiery hands
Jupiter has been murmuring for years
it has a storm that is bigger than our fears
twisting cold windy clouds over our busy head
erupting the emotions and stretching our legs
Neptune is invisible to the naked eyes but its
water and methane is fasten on solid ice
Uranus is filled with chemical composition
The confusion on earth is position on suspicion
Is this imagination or mere confusion
Mars has been snooping on us from the sky
Twice this week it emerges in plain sight
with its bright orange eye budging from the sky
I have mistaken it for the amber moon
But nature has declared a war to soon
Bees buzzing from the sky dropping honey in the kettle
Mankind queuing up in long lines waiting for a city that is divine
The mystery of life is yet to be found
It is buried somewhere beneath the blistering ground
Something is out there in the unknown
Waiting for the perfect time to make itself known
Earth with its formidable crust has finally open it guts
exposing its intricacy and laughing at us loudly
something more powerful than man lives in deep ocean
swirling and twirling like monster ready to devour
Oh how much I dread this conceited revelation
It is shaking the core of the hemisphere
causing death and destruction over the years
Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune
are bidding earth goodbye as they regroup in the sky
Life mystery is profound and it is found in the unknown.