Long Communicative Poems
Long Communicative Poems. Below are the most popular long Communicative by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Communicative poems by poem length and keyword.
out there in our world
there are brilliant individuals
whose minds are incredible,
awesome & inspiring,
bearing thoughts, ideas &
theories, which many of us
wouldn’t be able to fathom
if the thinker her/himself
sat down at our breakfast table
& spoon fed it to us
like we were good little Gerber
babies.
there are funny wo/men out
there also,
who with one quick quip or
deliberate body gesture, facial
contortion or humorous act
which may up to this point have
no definition at all,
are able to tickle our funny bone,
sending us into a fit of
laughter, which may very well
create pain in our gut or
cause us to fall right out of our
chairs.
unfortunately it is the case that
seldom do these two vital human
qualities exist within the same being &
when you come across someone
who possesses both,
your jaw might drop at the same time
you begin to quake with an almost
violent
guffaw---
this writer does feel that
Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson fits the bill.
Dr. Neil can captivate an audience---
armed with a comforting smile,
razor sharp wit & pure down to
earth sagacity,
in just over an hour (maybe less)
he can take those who held
absolutely no interest in Science
whatsoever,
and with an uncanny ability to weave
the most wondrous & complicated
descriptions of what goes on in the
cosmos,
with jokes & anecdotes
in a communicative way that does not
have an agenda,
outside that of education,
he is able to turn on whole crowds
to a love of Science!
and once you see him,
you won’t be able to get enough---
you’ll watch all the youtube lectures he
did,
and you’ll read all his books &
the whole time,
you’ll be learning things
which had they been brought you
by someone else,
you might have just been bored listening,
or ignored outright.
though many good intentioned smart
wo/men
will do their best to convey
all their research &
they’ll do so with all the compassion that
they can muster,
how unquestionably important it is to
have someone like Neil
bearing as much communicative talent
as he does sheer intelligence,
so that he might continue to
illuminate the world,
showing his own love for what he does &
what has always interested him,
so that he may pass it on,
igniting further amazement in us all,
so that so many break the chains of
religious dogmas which have
kept their eyes & their minds
shut & closed for so long!
Opposing blades split artery walls,
like slender ubbraided reddish hairs.
Scrutinizing concealed glands
before a motion picture camera.
Meat to overcome oppisition,
distressing persistance of control.
Sideshow characters resembling their reputation,
pungent expressions of their slang.
Progress feeds the timepiece
with slovenly dejection.
Skillfull vigor regulates the channels
of slurring outbursts of temper.
Sensually inclined to temptation,
congregations enticed by violent pleasure.
The superiority of the throne's officers,
publicly proclaimed
for their ability as weapons.
Biblical roots for their offensive formation,
providing brutal direction.
Solicitting the groups disapproval
of the fringes defiance.
Multi-farious fruits of ambiguity
conconcted among the stars and planets;
all beneath the skin of
of your eyelids.
Awakening to a lamentable
confused darkness.
A painful birth
from a muddy hole
of welfare status.
Collectively force-fed
forbidden sexual substance,
crumbs of death cups
from the altars
of Gog and Magog.
Priests with robes like jelly-fish
emitting light
into the depth of emptiness
and night.
Issuing debts
of natural desires;
obediance to the
non-perishing salesman.
His unsegmented body
holds ownership
over culture.
Plastic organs and tissues,
poisonous fluids flowing red
for the populations impanation.
An ostentatious diamond
of intelligence,
an historic insight
from a throne
of the slain sickly.
Vast and unyielding,
baseless materialists
transmitting a visionary war;
A sythetic savior,
we are saved by your glands.
Bonelike heads of animals
emptied into the coals.
The tossing crowds
in the passages of worthless cities.
Twelve tribes of a spoiling population
with knees bent,
intoxicated upon the carrion
of a righteous lion.
A barbarous self-interest
regulating their prey
through glass screens,
destroying all value
with permanent doubts,
and a deeply notched discomfort in their hearts;
a thouroughly communicative
injurious ink of acid
seperating the indispensable
from the indivisable ingratitudes
of wichedness and injustice.
A polished mouthpiece;
for the ornamental rhetoricians
of Tophet.
Last Trains at the End of an Echo
by Sy Roth
The Conestoga wagons littered the wasteland with their spiny bones
in search of the comfort of others
clattering, grinding wheels singing an unmelodic song
laments the guile of the others
who screamed a gale of voluminous disregard for them and their emotions
sucked the breath from their mouths
unfriended them.
So sudden their demise,
an unwinding of beliefs and closely-held credos
that peep like golden hinds from behind a lea of blustery grass
and suddenly there is a no more.
On either side of the mending wall
a phubbing, vacuous ending subsists
as a contemporary shout-out
an electronic melding,
a landscape of nothingness,
of swollen egos and prideful, self-congratulatory accolades
notwithstanding, they gather in the sheaves of like-minded souls
to their bosom
avowed them friends
and just as carelessly discarded them without warning
no cautionary tales
lose themselves in their overblown egos
set them adrift in a steady stream of electrons.
Wave after wave of waves
awaken them to their loneliness
a never-ending unfriending
for the somnambulists to find sleep--
And it goes on,
an unbending gusher of brackish water slicing through canyons
building up to a continual gathering of its waters
building to crescendo of effusive outpourings of love and adoration
where they ultimately meet at some shadowy terminus
where the last trains wait
at the end of an echo.
They slavishly adhere to
amassing their own kingdom
like the king in his counting-house
filling his coffers with beating hearts
and an unlimited slew of adoration from uncolored naïfs
hidden behind a curtain of bits and byte
until ennui overcomes them.
And they unfriend like flushed toilet tissue
wearing unchanged undergarments in a quotidian dream
of newly-donned silken mantels
that stop briefly at the end of the cycle
back to the watering holes of their non-communicative, non-essence
and bid them a hollow adieu
until the last one standing
a last friend blows lazily in the breach
and the wagons' wheels can be heard in the distance
rolling toward the community of men
who touch and sing and play at life.
It`s always inspiring to be strong in appearance,
Brave to catch up the essentiality of the sun.
How marvelous the wind blows to beat the sensations as one.
Yes, the pride is deep for BLACK skin to have fun.
The complexion is natural to be undermined,
Are you black?
Don`t be left in deceptive truck.
The image of black soothes what is meant of beauty.
Beauty that empowers the black skin to mindfully brag.
Beauty which carries protective substances against crack,
In fact, the beauty which possess a unique mark.
It`s all about black skin.
What are the definitions of black skin?
The skin which is naturally rich in melanin,
Black skin shields the body from folate depletion,
Making rightful protection against ultraviolet with adorable colouration.
Even in the heat of savannas, black skin provides cooling mechanism which develop more efficient perspiration.
If you think “BLEACHING” is a solution,
Bleaching is rather a termination.
And not a route to set one upon the mountain to receive lovable attraction.
It aims at pulling down the magical compositions of black skin into deterioration.
Leaving behind unbearable diseases and problems which turns out to place one in frustration.
The age of black is unpredictable,
It’s the skin which causes many to be humble,
it creates the feelings of being cherishable and affable.
Every story about black skin is expensive.
At the center of public, it is seductive…
Black skin fits in all attire perfectly with magnificent sensitives.
Before the rain, it looks charming and appreciative.
Exquisite of black skin, expresses its ebonics to be communicative.
Who can buy its glory?
I mean the glory which had brought motivations from multiples of personalities within the world entertainment in every gallery.
The motivations from Martin Luther, Mohamed Ali, Oprah Winfrey, Michelle Obama, Pele, Michael Jordan, Serena Williams, Usain Bolt and many others who are in memory.
Who maintained their precious black skin and exerted influence out of its value.
Perhaps, if you think your black skin is failing you,
Black skin is the most valuable gemstone found in morning dew.
#BLACK AND BEAUTIFUL
#SALEM MEDIA INITIATIVE
when younger & full of life,
idealistic with fist in the air,
hell bent on changing the world
with a communicative heart
whose capacity to give &
care for those around her/him
seemed without need to ever
replenish,
the thought that an institution
whose front seemed to be legit,
whose will to instill knowledge in
the population of those willing
seemed pure & true,
never seemed to register.
so onto college went the aspiring
world-changer,
doing all they could to study hard
to be involved in the community
to picket when needed, to protest
when driven, and on and on went
the wonderful world of
hope,
until
graduation.
now the taming came when the
bills started to clock in,
for the job promised by the admin
staff in the human resources dept.
at the college,
just wasn’t there, when the student
got out,
so the scramble to climb back up the
tree trunk,
in order to get back in that academic
nest,
began---
but this time, the stress of life on the outside
forced the individual to be scrapping for a
way to pay the rent while also
applying to a grad school &
the new dual distribution of energy
just didn’t pan out like it used to,
because the student had been
off the wagon,
so to speak.
in attaining a job to pay the bills,
without health insurance or
permanent status promised,
the lies began to show their face &
the idealistic student now became the
angry individual
whose whole attempt to become a
“better citizen”
had been shown to be an ordeal
not really worth having unless one
wants to be a slave to the loan companies &
therefore, a slave to the established status quo
of indifferent self-struggle,
which became par for the course
when the taming began.
now, without time to get out in the streets,
as there had been,
political motivation to change the world
morphs into a combination of
dissatisfaction with the slow outcomes &
a sense of failure in many different spheres---
now out of the academic loop &
locked into the work force,
the tamed, frustrated,
slave to the system
bows down their head to offer up their mind to the
chopping block &
uncle sam raises up the axe,
until down it comes thrashing
with all the glory of a good, solid,
decapitation.
1. You have the illness you have always been fearful of. The cause is your fear. You will never sleep, and tea and yoga are only placebos. Welcome to hell.
2. You cannot evade exactly anything you ever experience.
3. I. Zombies are only an abstract concept.
II. So is your entire life.
4. You impulsively set your clothing on fire with the post-justification that it is an archaic craving and without fire, we'd all be dead.
5. We don't live on different planets in a communicative solar system because some of us don't handle diversity very well, and a human-sized crater is large enough.
6. The universe does end, and outside of the edges, there is only pure whiteness that goes on forever. I know, I've been there.
7. I. There are villages inside the carpet.
II. There are worlds inside the molecules that make up the villages in the carpet.
III. There are kingdoms inside of electrons and protons. They want each other's land.
8. You have a hard time choosing between the four of spades and the seven of hearts. But no matter what you choose, they're both just cards.
9. Any moment that is filled with emotion will feel like it will be the like that for the rest of your life. It will not be.
10. You deride them but you have no idea you're in the same thrall.
11. I. You remember engraved metal spoons hanging on a kitchen wall. Yes, you do.
II. You remember the song that played during the car ride on the highway when you passed the
aircraft warning light in the distance.
III. You remember the green atmosphere when you were a kid in a swimsuit licking ice cream
outside of your neighbor's house.
IV. You remember there being a small blue swimming pool.
V. You remember looking through the lace curtains of your living room window and seeing snow
and holiday lights on the suburban houses across the street.
VI. None of this ever happened.
12. The main reason you can't fall asleep is because you were told to.
13. You have dark circles under your eyes that only some can see.
America
Well you should have seen turkey Sal
She fills herself with packs of Pall Mall
And not to forget about Coonskin-Cap Jack
Always a-travelling with a riffle on his back
The greatest thing a man can see
Is the vast environment of Tennessee
But I can't state that myself-
I love all of the country
America,
great plains and tall pines
Deep blue lakes and mountain peaks
High water and deep coal mines
Country houses and dense streets
I see a horse grazing on the prairie
And begin to think about the heritage
What Westward-bound means
And what is, in fact, genuine
But it is time for greetings,
the time to thank
For what the harvest brought,
what we got from the land
America,
fifty-states of well-being
Some territories far removed
Beauty emerges for all the seeing
Places warm, places cool
The founding fathers, I respect so much
For they stood up for liberty and independence
Washington, Franklin, Paul Revere
As I am reading Thomas Payne's 'Common Sense'
So if I'll set foot on American soil one day
I'll be proud of the way I have come
Because in essence, Americans are the same as me
Only, they know the true meaning of freedom
America,
Lush visions of crippled desire
Brought to me by endless visons
Only connected by the telephone wire
The communicative prison
What the future will bring is uncertain
But this nation will stand the test of time
Greatness doesn’t have to be restored;
Greatness is merely a state of mind
So come now, and share a thought
Choose your leaders wisely and be assured
That whoever will become President
Will do what he/she should
The advertising man looks down on his desk
And finds ads from the archives
It says: ‘1958, Lester and Grove Inc.’
He gets a glass of Bourbon
Does he represent America?
The heavy workload, the tired workhorses
The freedom of working is no freedom at all
But it is far better than them communist dogs
America,
Deserts and far stretched woods
A fire in my heart, a warm embrace
The sunset gives a certain mood
To a man on a wild-goose chase.
Fast as an atomic banshee, he roils sacred halls
of White House clutches levers with brass balls
American powers remain unrestrained when he calls
Armada to exorcise imagine aery dragons,
he inarticulately falls
non-communicative, faux eruditely generative,
and heartily galls
toward this introspective kickstarter male,
and most likely others he appalls.
-------------------------------------------------
My inner guru hankers to share voice
amidst increasing din
and clamors in reaction to insidious machinations fin
hushed via Machiavellian offal prince,
who unleashes clout with Cheshire grin
unconcerned about population, chaste,
from their wells Fargo wing.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Most every citizen banker, and kin
stared down vis a vis fierce-some intimations
catapult escalating, spin
laughing at rigged voting outlook
gratefully inflicts populace with monstrous win
doomsday soldiers -
art of the deal book not writ by said urchin.
-------------------------------------------------
Though regularly affiliated with top notch
kudos to virtual soapbox platform
re: all poetry to express Bing averse
toward ill feted Barron settlement
of United States government tossed like scotch
on thar hocks, thus an uneasy angst
also invisibly grabs me by the crotch
cuz das Trump power monger,
I fear rubric of democracy, he will botch!
-------------------------------------------------
This poem alternately titled -
harbinger of political debacle wolf find antipode
where toxic brew at crack of 12 a.m.
January 20th 2017 doth bode
doctored pregnant swollen tidal anarchistic military toad
deeds sheepishly shape into battalions
in tandem - fraternal order of police erode
Civilian protesters unite with ordinary citizen bankers
crowdsource sing metallic ca clash to goad
Form:
Do you want to meet in this poem
The unique man who has no boredom
He cooperates with all
In the summer winter and fall
His friendly gestures are indeed wholesome
Close by the seashore he wanders though
Rising from the sea where the breezes blow
He hates the gray boredom
He loves the pink freedom
Looking at the sea his eyes in the brilliance glow
Wearing a blue shirt of poetry
Lends his hand to everybody
Large medium or small
In the slum or hall
In his heart resides a scarlet harmony
Whenever you call him come swim with me
With laughter he will readily agree
With a love and affection
Will lead you into the ocean
Wherever he goes he builds a community
Whether you are a friend or an alien
With the communicative eyes are spun
The intimate friendship
As tender as the palm leaf
Ready to blossom in a crimson cooperation
He is the warm friend Robinson
An enemy he considers no one
In the ocean moonlit
He is the playful spirit
Giving everybody a sound protection
Most of his time he passes in the sea
The trusted friend to you and me
The strength of the breakers
The creator of colours
With him and his family I am in a pink spree
I came to know him a month before only
Yesterday when a man called him loudly
Dolphin, Dolphin, Hey
A tremor in my bouquet
Hello, he responded proudly
A dolphin looks from the seashore
The lyrics bloom in the rapport
Two dolphins handsome
The blossoming guitars strum
They hug each other and float a blue corridor
February 12, 2018
Dolphins - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Love, aimer,amar,salang,called by many names was a myth to me before you…
Many such as my exits might deny it…
But if love is waking up to sweet sound of a ding on my phone…
A ding of bonjour or good morning, then they might be right…
If love was doing the craziest of things just to be with you then they might be right…
If love is the selfishness in my head to stop time whenever we are together, then they might be right…
If love is the amazing sense of discomfort whenever we fight then they might be right…
But love is the sense of humility displayed behind all your craziness…
Love is the amazing sacrifice of time and patience you have for me…
Love is the motion full display of affection…
Love is the empathy you show at times(sometimes dumb but ehn i get)
Love is actually the linkable access to crazy in you
As this ink darkens my white floor, I realised that i might have fallen for you over again…
Call me crazy but each day ends with wondering how I got to know you…
Sometimes i wonder if it might have been the charm…
Or the energetic urge to win every conversation(very annoying all of the time)…
Or the magnetic effect in your first approach…
Or could it be your manly personality(nah)…
Or the amazing communicative skills…
Maybe it’s the natural charm and handsomeness…
Or the unique personality I have met(yes the good,bad and the ugly)…
Could it be the elitious display of intelligence?
Or were you just likable?
All questions to none I can answer…
But if love was the above and more…
Then love is you, Samuel Emmanuel?
And I love you from the moon and back…