Long Collective Poems
Long Collective Poems. Below are the most popular long Collective by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Collective poems by poem length and keyword.
Their cries for help all go unheard
Society ignores them as being just strange birds
Because powerful men want to play with toys
Weapons of death are obtained by messed-up boys
We’re saddened by the stories on the evening news
Yet, gun control we refuse to choose
Lobbyists’ pockets are lined with blood-stained cash
Another SWAT team scrambles in a mad response dash
So macho men can go out and kill yet another deer
And false security be allowed in the house
School boys can go on a rampage near
And arguments lead to a cold dead spouse
The only civilized nation with no gun control
Has the highest rate of murderous crime
Each unnecessary death blackens our collective soul
As we close our eyes yet another time
Sheep are herded into masses,
Then divided into classes,
Declassified as entities,
Trained as the countries amenities,
Aiming to please those in command,
Branded by the flag they carry,
The truth is pretty scary,
Downright dirty and hairy,
Where's my fairy Godmother,
Come smother the fire I see,
What is required from me,
I've aspired to be change,
Rearranging my perspective,
Acting within the collective,
I'm becoming quite effective,
Selective of my thoughts,
I fought the hardest ones,
It wasn't very fun,
I'm done being divided,
Guided by "The Help",
I collided with myself,
An elephant with emotions,
Tired of all the commotion,
The plan is already in motion,
Another wave in the ocean,
Hoping to open the hearts,
And start seeing who they are,
Far more then they've been told,
And the old ways fade away,
Into the individuals we're here to play.
In contemporary society, doctors & scientists for example, are considered to be experts in that they hold a body of dominant knowledge that is on the whole, inaccessible to the layman.
How I feel about the vaccine, its nobodies business
When I look around I find tons of brainers on the subject
Half of them scientific experts who know it all (yes) 100%
Half of them scientific experts who know it all (no) 100%
Just like politics and religion now we have a 3rd subject
that has become taboo
I rather focus on a cure for the world at large
stay positive, don't pound your opinion on either side
"They say never throw away a Layman" was originally used to distinguish between non-clerical people and the clergy.
It soon was used to distinguish non-professionals from professionals in a field (such as law or medicine). In a similar fashion the collective noun "laity" originally referred to non-clerical people, but came to also mean "persons not of a particular Profession.
In my opinion, most of us can be considered layman
so why are we so quick to act as Doctors or Shamans
How do I feel about the vaccine is an opinion too costly to say these days
you got it ? you didn't ? you ! gamma rays ! I'm in a daze
COVID-19 pandemic analogous how indigenous peoples got felled...
Woebegone, enraged spirits
holographic images taciturn
journeying somberly aghast
at their stolen sacred lands... mourn
dead souls impossible mission
sabotaged aery mission endeavor
happy hunting grounds upheaval
witnessed gaunt bloody sojourn,
perhaps collective aboriginal ghosts return
to haunt cruel innocent heir/heiresses
regarding interlopers, si?
Malicious intent birthed in subsequent
quick succession to adventitious,
(nevertheless grievous) events
visited upon heads of storied "Indians")
misnomer spurred European explorers
(more particularly exploiters),
when "discovering" the Americas
to dole out (deliberately)
contaminated accouterments,
plus various sundry trappings
to native inhabitants.
Gross misdeeds of our long deceased forebears
debauched, decorated, and dedicated
footloose hedonistic jackbooted violent men
loosed mayhem opening pandora's box
unwittingly and/or intentionally disseminating
seeds of annihilation germinating lethal pandemic
decimating innocent ofttimes knowingly
unleashing opportunistic virile organisms
without vital immunity linkedin
bodily defense mechanisms.
With advantage of hindsight
always 20/20 (especially
calendrical juncture planetary
space/time continuum 2020)
opprobrium plentifully quoted
as cosmic consciousness skews perspective,
whereby admission acknowledged
conquistadors looted, pillaged, and raped
(blithely, effectively, and indiscriminately killed)
every man, woman, and child
and/or sowed cultural abomination
acceleration, adulation, aeration...
Though thoroughly grounded
within secular humanism
courtesy kickstarting metaphysical realism
philosophical, teleological...
essentially Unitarianism paradigm
whereby ripple repercussions of actions
(think butterfly effect
starring Ashton Kutcher - ha)
trigger domino falling action,
yet additionally affects fate,
particularly he/she who
activated, cultivated, generated...
chain of events, particularly
brutal, deplorable, and unforgivable misdeeds.
It's okay to say out loud that you are God,
for there is no we.
You may however be vilified or stoned to death!
Now that you have realized this truth
it's okay to fall back into the illusion;
that thought matrix of our collective agreements.
However you are not more holy or more enlightened
than any higher ape or dog.
You just know that there is only you,
only One Consciousness.
Then you can rejoin the illusion of 'we'
make it your playground,
get happy or sad about all the stuff
everyone else gets happy or sad about.
When you are truly alone
you will know you are not alone
for you do not exist
in any ultimate sense.
So it’s okay to know that you are God,
God experiencing you
and that is quite a cool thing to know
isn't it?
First off—
you are not auditioning for anything.
No judges. No golden buzzer.
Just soap scum, mildew,
and me,
feigning deafness
as your voice argues with your own credibility.
You hit notes the way most of us
hit adulthood:
off-key, but confident,
hoping no one notices the wobble.
Bravado works—
at least until the bridge,
where falsetto reveals what you’ve been avoiding:
the student loans,
the job you don’t really love but still post to LinkedIn,
the enigmatic packages marked self-care
which, if we’re honest,
are little more than elaborate procrastination.
Here’s the irony:
in the shower you are free—
yet nothing screams captivity more loudly
than a breakup ballad
sung into a loofah.
Denial will not be washed away by water.
Perhaps this is all of us:
shampoo bottles as microphones,
carrying ourselves along on the theory
that noise is progress,
that rhythm is meaning.
Our decisions stream out in choruses—
the missed lyric,
lost potential;
the key change,
a career pivot;
the pause?
You—trying not to think about dying
before the conditioner sinks in.
I’d laugh,
but I hear my own life in your medley:
a remix of delusion and resilience,
equal parts tragic flaw and comic timing.
The joke lands because it’s collective.
None of us is really singing—
we’re all humming our apologies
into tiled acoustics,
hoping someone forgives the wreckage.
Your shower aria revealed more than intended.
Not about your voice—
but about the choir we’re all in:
off-pitch,
earnest,
convinced the steam hides us,
when really,
it only fogs the glass
long enough
for us to strike a final pose,
hit a note we can’t hold,
apologizing to no one;
unless—you count
the neighbor who just knocked on the wall.
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"Our Love Was Meant to Be,"
Lusingando Sultry
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Written By; Flutiers of the Night
aka. Avec Abandon and The How 2 Talk Dirty Band
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Must be the night
the moonlight glowing
a pretty smile
our passions showing
must be the night
we are together
a perfect time
us together
it's meant to be
it's meant to be
Our love was meant to be
Ah Suttle kiss
this magic moment
who'd could image this
you and I as one
it promises to be
a spectacular evening
we'll reminise
this Specail One
It's meant to be
it's meant to be
Our love was meant to be
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I don't want no one sided love
You gotta love me
it's all about you
That's you and me
when flowers bloom
you'll be gifted
Our honeymoon
symbolizes a sweet,
marital blissful thing
you were meant for me
I was meant for you
it's meant to be
you and I together
You're with me
I'm with You
Ah romantic fling
Darling can't you see
Our Love was meeant to be
Beneath boulders and slab, weathered and worn,
consciousness is a whisper, a clarity undistracted.
A refraction of light and sound, repeated and reborn.
Conscious yet unaware, the timeless undertow subtracted.
For this is the Ground of Being.
All conscious particulate above and below are invisible,
we are seafaring sailors of soul and free choice.
Our various solutions and resolutions are indivisible.
In Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, we rejoice.
For this is the Ground of Being.
All living and dying offer myriad paths of travail.
Beyond time and space, there is a fundamental permanence.
As creatures of longing, we hold each other in the gale.
Our love, our deepest well, illuminates our transcendence.
We are subatomic dust entangling faster than light.
Our collective dreams and memories sparkle and dazzle.
Bodhisattvas like Jesus Christ lift sufferers into sight.
But our nonlocal transpersonal synchronicity still baffles.
Episodic and spontaneous, our passions and thoughts,
this is our realm of flash and fury, our daily wakefulness.
Forces of energy and matter, the mystery hidden in quartz,
this is our realm of sand, soil, and sea, our lifelong earthiness.
Wavelength collapse turns possibility into actuality.
Deep consciousness transforms our physical world.
Spirituality grants us creative engagement with reality.
Our inner light reaches the same limits as the fabled.
For this is the God of Being.
Sailor I can't claim to be,
yet I heard the siren's call,
when I first beheld the tower of steel
rising o'er blue waves so tall.
Miles beyond where man can walk,
and miles deeper still,
the hand of our collective race
can still exert its will.
Past azure depths,
past murky gloom,
past miles of rock,
to history's tomb.
And - oh! - what surges in the soul!
What wonders to behold,
that drives the heart of enterprise
as we chase down the gold.
Strength of iron,
song of steel -
how can it be such things are real?
Power of titans brought to bear
with precision close as a mother's care.
And if it were gift from the stars,
it might not seem so strange.
But, lo, men as I have fashioned it -
How glorious our range!
Millennia of knowledge,
centuries of industry,
decades of skills applied for years,
to bring such a thing to be.
And oh the lives that fashioned it!
Designed it, built it strong,
and keep it living on the seas
to sing its siren song.
Written 12 May 2023 on helicopter ride from Gulf of Mexico to Houma, LA after tour of the Valaris DS-16 drillship
That chilly night in Bucharest
As I lay down in my bed to rest
Torrents of thoughts assailed me
Avalanche of questions tore my heart apart
As I reminisced over the events of previous days
I felt the world moving in collective dementia
As disasters and heinous crimes of every shade
Broke minutely to confound the troubled world
Scores of souls roasted in the belly of Ethiopian whale
Worshipers pulverized on the altar of extremism in New Zealand
Furious flash floods kill and displace in Indonesia Papua
Cyclone Idai hitting hard in Zimbabwe and Mozambique
Man is endangered in his natural domain
By his daily contrivances for gain
His garden must be cultivated with better care
To produce trees where every bird can perch freely.