Long Chronology Poems
Long Chronology Poems. Below are the most popular long Chronology by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chronology poems by poem length and keyword.
Far as the (ease)
severely myopic eyes can see,
nothing but polluted atmosphere
where skull and crossbones
memento mori betokens beware,
especially with increasing chronology
mortality becomes crystal clear
existential crisis yours truly didst despair
not so much death itself, but failure
(inadequacy) at livingsocial
mine life to the hilt
plain as day everywhere
casual attitude apropos
(pertinent personal paradigm
regarding aspiring poet)
equals laissez faire,
hence the following
his apt nom de guerre
emotionally castrated docile heir.
Minimal milestones attained he
blithely professes, grants, attests,
et cetera as general rule
barely squeaked by
(think graduating high school)
weatherbeaten and rust covered cerebral tool
smartly linkedin cogs and wheels
buzzfeeding delicate threads didst unspool
above mentioned metaphor near
perfectly, quintessentially, and realistically virtual
extempore description hoopfully edifies
thee dear reader figuratively yours truly
got swallowed into vortex whirlpool.
Maelstrom pitched me to and fro
hither and yon into damndest chaos
drowned me under dead end zone
fiercest storm ever
raging across Lake Woebegone
stronger than bajillion healthy
male primates oozing testosterone
empowered with indomitable strength
downing ordinarily toxic
(even infinitesimal quantity) quinone
think beefy hulking Hercules types
built powerlifters second to none
pulsating pecks, quaking quads,
and ripped reputations
far and wide known
with versatility now
smattering of lines
constituting this poem I hone.
Invisible omnipresent nemesis,
(perhaps the Schwenksville Strangler)
appears intent on asphyxiating,
and simultaneously forcing yours truly
to experience unbearable
oppression, humiliation, and agitation,
whereby joie de vivre extinguished
provoking sadness linkedin
with remembrance of things past
agonizing, kickstarting torturing
absolute zero ability to relish the present
essentially forced to recollect
nasty, short and brutish mailer daemons
characterizing diabolical ghosts
representing nauseating, and haunting
hurtful dirty deeds done dirt cheap
courtesy my selfishness
verboten fruit tasted within recent past
now the bitter aftertaste
analogous to Scrooge
suddenly horrified about his stingy self.
Voice. Sweet voice, energizing, motivating
Voice. Deep voice, talking in head
Voice. Surreal. following along chronology
Voice. I never nourished you.
Still, you are there.
Senses. You are a reality of a self-conscious mind.
Senses. You are of divinity in sorrow. In living crime.
Senses. You are a tribute to life. Every day and so on.
Senses. you are a beauty in verses of poetry and rhyme.
Gratitude. You are a reminder of truly clicking talk
Gratitude. You are a blessing and boon of life.
Stay. Stay there with me, with your blissful smile.
In words of voice, senses, and gratitude.
Numbers come from a singularity at sea
Grow into oceans numerically speaking
Fluent in the foreign language of Chronology
Born from an original source sequentially conceived
Sometimes repeating calculus because they can
Starting out as the number one and counting
Figures break down into fractions
That hatch from shells on the banks of logic
Mathematical equations have solid names
John and Mary are not among them
Algebra is also not related at this time
However, Algebraic expressions seem human
When written as a quotient of polynomials
Rational and irrational as they may appear
Numerical oceans floating on logic surround us
It is hard to grasp such fluid objects in motion
Chronological or otherwise they still come
One after another exponentially counting down
Dividing by ten to get to the sum of the day
Emotions run biology,
Your own form of Technology,
To tune into physiology,
Give it an apology.
Understand ecology,
You're affected by astrology,
A chronology of existence,
Closing the distance.
You create each instant,
Facing resistance,
Emotions take a chance,
To dance with creation.
Feeling information,
Creating a situation,
For you too play in.
To evolve and advance,
enjoying the experience.
A silent persistence,
Creating your existence,
Needing your assistance.
Emotions affect neurology,
And every other part of the body,
If you don't understand the technology,
You should give yourself an apology.
Over saturation with
welter weighted Yuletide
drenching world, web, wide
equal and/or greater
effort demands energy tide
to global warming,
lest apocalypse doth ride
high and mighty mandating,
inculcating, buoying... pride
toward planet Earth, the
apathetic, demonic, horrific,
plastic... malleable passive
can no longer run and hide.
Results elucidating, forthcoming,
groundbreaking courtesy of 23andme
nsync with network of
newly discovered cache of relatives
which painstakingly diligent
(joint) effort helped
map our family tree,
though her ardent effort
completed many months past I re:
visit substantially detailed
information about our genealogy,
this time (December)
of every year prompts me
now with particularly increased clarity
to conjure, imagine dragons,
order summon... glimpsing
mine Jewish ancestry,
yet nary handy
dandy blues clues,
not even one iota subsequently
qualifies yours truly to identify
with persecuted peoples be
leave me you,
a sudden fiery conversion
to immerse myself with Judaism fee
bull, nonetheless chronology
to broaden knowledge
base shockingly woke
greater awareness (i.e. truncated limbs)
regarding Holocaust soak
king unrepentant perpetrators
with blood on their
hands doth provoke
sadness more aware about
Eastern European distant
cousins bore yoke
of anti-Semitism
spiritually, figuratively
incises, didst stoke
albeit time delayed
vicarious pain, no matter broke
ken spirits long since
turned to dust, whereby
former ignorance (mine) linkedin
with smattering generations
of yore besmoke
horrors indelibly stitched within genes
comprising every bone
and sinew (mine).
Said heightened awareness
noticeably pronounced sudden
agonizing psychosomatic sensation
that did further third eye blind,
hence painful to open these brown eyes
already afflicted with severe myopia lined
with so called "floaters" necessitating
custom made bifocals, where Ophthalmic
laboratory technicians (manufacturing
opticians, optical goods workers, or kind
optical mechanics) deftly grind
cut, edge, and finish lenses according
to instructions provided by dispensing
opticians, optometrists, or ophthalmologists.
chronology
arrow
stream
meandering
within
sizeableness
transient
idiomata&
tick squire
how many
panjandrum?
mushroomed
profusions
blemished?
& maybe
adjudication
dichotomizes
duration
dealing with
divergent
macrocosm
meditatively
mysteriousness
make whoopee
moments
melt away
Written: August 10, 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
I recall
from Catholic seminal
seminary daze,
Frocked monastic gaze
vowed nerve-systemic chastity,
self-sacrificing poverty,
political obedience
to a Great StraightMale Master
of God's paradise reclusive House
filled with sacred humane
Men's Room Only vocations.
Yet I experienced these three
Green Commons commitments
in reverse Taoistic
NonZeroistic chronology
of sacramental EarthCentric interest:
Without fully embodying
sensory-neural obedience,
trust
good faith
good humor
LeftBrain healthy secular Truth
as also
RightBrain safe sacred Beauty,
Then poverty of spirit
is a bitter
exploitive pill to
MonoCapitalistically swallow
before too many competitive weeks
and months pass anxiously by
Without neuro-sensory chastity
invoking my healthy regenerative compassion
only when informed
by universal climax wealth experience
of sacred
nature-spirited poverty
of co-invested
co-infesting
cooperatively creolizing Light
and Power;
Theologically ecological poverty
of StraightWhiteMale divinely-endowed
anthrosupremacism
could best be re-invited
into WinWin cooperative co-investment
when transparently vulnerable
through healthy matriarchal prime Attachment,
Further reinforced
by post-pubescent
sensory-neural sacred climax
worship
and praise,
silent awe
and verbalized
and verbalizing
and reverberating wonder,
Obedience to Taoistically balanced
ego-patrilinear LeftBrain verbalized
through nonviolently, multiculturally felt
wants,
healthy co-invested thrusts,
trusts,
truths
As also EcoWomanist
RightBrain sacred felt silence,
integral reception
Green cooperative unitarian communion
Deep listening for empowering
sacred information
inhalation
Also enlightening
dusty secularized disobedience,
pathological need for win/lose subservience,
posturing as win/win obedient
Earth Healers,
Regenerative repairers
of active nonzeroistic healthy ego-hope
from EcoMotherly masters
vowing past
and present
and future
green/blue EarthWealth
revolving compassion.
I set before you admonishing
That of the Garden
I rose up in glory astonishing
That in the Garden
And As I grew I saw within you, strong things
Heavenly, I adorned the touch of the solace
That of embracing of the foliage
I was caught up in the greenery chronology
Planted blossom grow seed flowers bold
But you spoke a message
About the blessings Grand Creator
That of the Garden
And if I do want to plant in you
That of your Garden
Seeds of life, dew
Rain dawns drops of heaven's hues
I stood on the garden
My eyes seen the order love obsession and jealousy
Planted blossom grow seed flowers bold
Sunflowers planted amongst the dandelions sown grow
I planted seeds in the garden
You whom were the Orchard
One within a garden
That of the Garden
And if I do want to plant in you
That of your Garden
Seeds of life, dew
Rain dawns drops of heaven's hues
Planted blossom grow seed flowers bold
I stood on the garden
Abba Father flourished and molded you in His creations hands
Out of earthern plans, making His a little
Givings a lot
As I stand before the orchard calling on the grand creator
Why has my garden stop moving
As I called before the grand creator
In reference my garden has now been placed in drought
That of the garden has wilted wildered away
Planted blossom grow seed flowers bold
Like the sun brighten rays reflection
Gardens truest self has once was planted now it's energies light
Has gone up into space
That of the Garden
Planted blossom grow seed flowers bold
Father once sown planted soul on loan
Now truest essence solid Garden now the sun's rays energy risen
Truest form giving back until the Lord heavenly orchard Father
Givings of lots
That of the garden
I thank my God for you
That of the garden
5/4/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
This article is about the underground lyricist and outlaw musician. For other uses, see Zoltan Goliath, Brent Scorn, Lydia Fox, C. Günter Marrow, Elzbieta Bienga (disambiguation).
Otis (Trench Mouth) Trench was born with pneumonia in a black-rain steel town in Third World, Pennsylvania. He was not expected to survive and received Last Rites. His unction was so extreme, however, Death could not grab hold and he slipped away. He grew up wild, learned his letters from a ragman’s son and took off for the high country and the deep blue sea. Upon his return, he landed a job tending bar in a low life shot-and-beer joint called the Old Salem Tavern, but referred to by locals as The Country Whore Inn. He began composing lyrics as a way of minding the tide and easing the drift. It continues to be an on-going process. In a recent interview with the fashion editor of A Dim, Dark Mirror, Mr. Trench was quoted as saying:
At this specific stage of my existence, and in consideration of the circumstances in which I find myself, it surprises me to discover that rumors of my downfall have been insinuated within the chronology of my tenure, since, upon completion of an extensive and thorough inventory of my physical and spiritual estate, as best can be determined by the faculties I still retain within my possession and deemed by myself to be valid and reliable given an honest assessment of the facts of the matter; I testify for the official record, and in a fashion suitable to be notarized, authorized and cauterized, that regarding the state of my particulars, I am of the firm, unwavering opinion, despite whatever dissenting voices may be heard chiming discordantly in some distant pasture of manure-sodden earth seeking to either disturb my slumber or provoke my wrath, and regardless of whatever graying whiskers I may in fact possess, I aver assuredly that in contradiction to all appearances and any other details not withstanding – my ass ain’t draggin’ yet. In consideration of my prognosis, would you hike up your skirt a little higher, honey?
When our TV goes to sleep we have this app that immediately awakens…it links to all our photographs…every photograph we’ve ever taken.
The photographs appear for a few seconds…chosen randomly from a vast array…enough to stir a memory before that memory fades away.
There is no chronology to their appearance…no rhyme nor reason…if you please…
They take us back and forth throughout our lives with alacrity and ease.
Birthday cakes, family vacations…a mountain landscape…a beautiful sky
Graduations…sunsets…family…holidays…all pass in the blink of an eye.
Camping, people who have passed, grandchildren playing football on the lawn…moments…just like life…there for a moment…then they’re gone.
As this slide show plays out in front of our eyes…usually we smile…sometimes we’re perplexed…as our memory tries to catch up from one picture to the next.
Most of the time we just ooh and aah…as different memories burst before our eyes…It’s kind of like watching fireworks…exploding across the sky.
We’ve found ourselves watching these memories and losing track of time
realizing how lucky we’ve been as together through life we climb…
Which is why you’ll often find us sitting in our living room
searching for memories we’d love to keep…
as they burst upon the screen…
when our TV goes to sleep.