Long Conceit Poems
Long Conceit Poems. Below are the most popular long Conceit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conceit poems by poem length and keyword.
Perfection's reserved for God
we mortals must deal with less.
For beauty's more than you see
and lives in souls others bless.
Flattery fuels conceit
with its perfusion of lies.
For passion's prerequisites
aren't meant to recruit the wise.
Feelings of loneliness are
held hostage within the heart.
For reality is harsh
crushing dreams before they start.
But life is imbued with hope,
for every soul is a gem.
Who can see its true beauty
with only eyes to guide them?
When you believe in yourself,
pangs of crippling self-doubt cease.
And feeling confident, your
odds of finding love increase.
(Quatrain)
1/28/2015
You and I contain all the rest of our names,
Love once crosses mid-earth and tames.
Regardless of irrevocable fact and deed,
It ended in finding that love is the seed.
We comforted each other's wounds,
A thing opened destroys after it excludes.
As lips quiver and tongue swells goodbye,
Shaking in terror, after intense loving one day.
Our minds warn us to yield on past feats,
As the cold wind blows, so acts our conceit.
Before wrecking our love's car on sandstone,
No mystic wind can bear off our millstone.
Then we both grinned and expel,
Allowing all these efforts to fail.
You are beloved still
and thoughts are tender
which mine mind speaks softly
unto my heart
so secretly are they
conveyed within mine self
to be hidden from you
that you might not treat them
as inconsequential
or lightly esteemed
for so many give praises
on clothing external
for so conspicuous a talent
I sought the face behind
the visable
that core of tapestry
of character so clouded
by the gloss what the world
deems ascent
where a mans praise
is what he paints
and not what he values
to color this orders conceit
as the heigth of expressions
and self aggrandizement
over ones peers
as healthy competition
and pulled are we
twixt the masters
a heart which dispises injustice
and the accolades of the systems
praise
I can not love the world order
though I care dearly
for its children
I despise its values
do we judge that its princes
have more worth
than its paupers
that the rich
have more virtue than
one not holding wealth
in admiration
what standard has the world raised
does any exceed
the absolute laws of love
what have been its reflections
the mirror of its values
what fruit has it produced
answer me this
from whence is its source
that its display might be
seen in its depth today
that mankind hold
no accountability
to the cosmos or himself
but the mad pursuit of
self importance , ego
yet I would lend you my
esteem for so great a many
qualities
that I love in man
that I seek in them
those things that are true
treasures yet
and shall always be
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C Michael Miller
This event happened last year, last fall, right before school began.
Summer talk has stopped sigh - free and easy days, parties and beach trips are over. Now attention turns to the fall and the start of school and the “2019 Social Season.”
Fall begins tonight with a social (a very formal dress party) and the night ahead looms long - these are the events that, for some reason, my siblings live for - *shaking head* - I hate them.
The British would've held this party in a garden - when they ruled the world - but we're modern man - we get the St Regis.
My two best friends aren't here tonight so I'm stuck with my "peers" - the extravagant children of rich houses - those seekers of happy times drunk with an absence of accountability - as they enjoy their metrical friendships and wander lost among forests of bad choices.
Have you ever seen people high on their own surface reflections? It's not a good look.
I see a new purse worth an economy car - honors at the feet of conceit - presented like erotica - let's all just drown in special privilege - "That'll cure racism" - I crack - to cow-like indifference.
Don't worry, my generation will save the planet - we got this.
Violet Grape Purple Envelope
Violet grape, fleshy and sweet,
Packed with juice, sweetened by fall`s heat,
On every tongue, a luncheon treat,
Without any doubt or conceit;
Purple envelope, thin and square,
A supple secret seated there,
Address scribbled by well-known pen
Awaits a tale over to hand.
The grape's juice trips, a lilac stain,
A memory carved, not in vain;
The envelope opens, quite slow,
Revealing words, where feelings glow.
The taste of grape, a fading grace,
Mirrored in the envelope's space,
With purple echoes, deep and true,
A violet dream, close to blue.
Inside envelope, a letter,
Of love plea, feelings free glitter;
It speaks of time spent together,
Of pledges made to each other.
The purple fades, the grape is gone,
But memories long linger on;
The envelope , a silent friend,
Keeps company till the dead end.
Violet, purple, words entwined,
Tapestry woven for the mind;
Delicious grape, with time is stained
But sweet words of letter remain.
Father?
Have You looked at us lately?
We're so far away
And so full of hate, for each other.
Father?
Have You listened much lately?
The things that we say
Make my head hang in shame and disgrace.
Father?
Are You reading the papers?
The things that are written
Make me think that we're smitten with pride and conceit.
And Father
Will You be voting?
The people on both sides are hoping
Sure hoping You see things their way?
Father?
Have You seen Your house lately?
They're pretending You're there while pretending to care.
Acting like they've got it all worked out/shadow boxing the air.
Scoring each round and,
Strutting and hawking our wares.
Father
The children are dying.
Mothers are crying.
No one seems to care.
Father?
Do any lives really matter?
It seems like the mad hatter is debating the wind with the Hare.
Father?
Seems like we trust in the voting booth more than the closet of prayer.
Father?
Are You paying attention?
Guess I failed to mention
We're in the express lane so hurry?
Father?
Can You take my order I called in advance?
Like the genie in the bottle.
And please hurry when You get the chance.
.
Father?
After all this
Are we too far gone?
What have we missed?
And Father,
We're so good at judging
And telling You just where we think You need to be.
Father,
It's easy to see when it's someone else not me.
And
How do we find our way home?
And
Have we been gone too long?
And
Do You still care?
Are you still there?
Are we all alone?
Please take us home to the 51st psalm?
.
Create . . . in me, a clean heart
Renew a right spirit in me.
Don't throw me away
Teach me Your ways.
Let me love my enemies the way that You say.
.
Jesus?
When did I see You cold?
When did I see You hungry?
When did I visit You
In prison?
Did I pass You by on the side of the road?
Was I too busy watching the show?
Let me be
Meek poor in spirit and kind.
Let me be a peacemaker.
Let my message be
Jesus Christ, Him crucified.
Father?
Have You looked at us lately?
I'm sure hoping and hoping,
That You've still got plenty of Grace.
TV sensation
Prime time news;
Wake up call
~~~~~~~~~
Elegant poise on TV
Charming sweet voice;
Brilliant anchor delivery
~~~~~~~~~
Homegrown talent
Sparkle and shine;
New media sensation
~~~~~~~~~
Stock market trends
Upswing and downswing;
Challenging times
~~~~~~~~~
Politics of freedom
Confrontational constituents;
Angry defiance
~~~~~~~~~
Observe the times
Conflicts permutates;
Right and left and wrong
~~~~~~~~~
Losing streak
Gambling losses;
Cut loss and run
~~~~~~~~~
Affairs of the heart
Uneasy showdown;
Bruised egos clash
~~~~~~~~~
Pun of old wit
Can still sting;
Mad hornets stir
~~~~~~~~~
Kill joy this talk
Something for nothing;
Deceit attends conceit
~~~~~~~~~
Gain or loss
Not much has changed;
Greedy is greedy
~~~~~~~~~
Here we go again
Flirt from old pain;
Embrace new pain
~~~~~~~~~
Sweet baby asleep
Mother's fond embrace;
Peace in the valley
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
20 October 2014
Singapore
Tanks
"Da Tanks, da Tanks."
The President is not Chairman Mao.
Come on now!
Gads, what an ungrateful nation!
Perhaps haughty Don Lemon or
that court jester, Jim Acosta,
Two snobby nobodies behind
a mike, turning brains to mush
every night,
Could please each American
just right?
Go online tomorrow, you will
find how many presidents used
tanks and fly-overs.
The list is long, we are not
Tianimin Square!
But CNN and MSNBC, masters
of disinformation,
Make you think so!
Truth to them is totally cracked
and libelous information.
Such elitism, and political bigotry!
With utmost conceit will not cover
the DC events.
But! Will have proponents of
abortion on most happily.
Killing babies is OK, don't you see?
JFK, oh, so revered, had tanks
too!
And Fly Overs are happening,
even at football and baseball games.
And many civic events, yes!
So stop the hysteria over this
bizarre craziness.
Our country, our values are
being shredded.
Like the cheapest Wal-Mart
lettuce.
Wake the heck up!
Obama had more than enough sense
to have TWO Betsy Ross flags
behind him at BOTH of his
inaugurations.
Nobody said a word. Huh?
MSNBC, you all,just compared
the Betsy Ross flag to a
Swastika?
Oh, Lord, the total number of brains
there?
The size of a small brassica!
*Brassica~ a mustard plant
July 4, 2019
Ya..Let Freedom Ring
MEASURES OF DEGREE
confidence pervades
intending to regale
in pomp displayed
in pageantry
a mere pretence
with conceit
its folly
is
dismayed
such innocence
to see
conveyed
& prevails
midst the tide
sufficient
heretofore
validates the sense
of
zealous appetite
doomed to share
a shadow remains
the quest is
is stilled
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Monsters of conceit that human beings create,
With fantastic forms and shapes and strength decorate;
Licensing to love, loath, lust, lie, lure and loiter,
Wretched then; dare to kill the very creator...
Scientific ambition, sure, is creative,
What, if, the creator is made a fugitive?
Playing God, indeed, is a sin forgivable,
What, if, one thinks himself as God adorable?
Was Frankenstein's fantastic frantic tea party,
Amusements of bourgeoisies- sporty, haughty?
Or like politics played around the world today,
Mudslinging, slandering, tricky, dirty, and stray?
The monster was not a single entity whole,
He was pieces of flesh and bones put in a roll;
Race, caste, color, creed interests, and biases,
Had made him the best bundle of paradoxes...
He, like a battery robot, functioned so well,
When his cell got exhausted like his will he fell;
When re-charged with hearty feelings he soon arose,
When his master could not contain, his tantrum throws…
Frankenstein's party is a pandemonium,
Full of fear, havoc, chaos, madness, and mayhem;
The monster was created by master-power,
Master was overpowered and towered over!
We create monsters in our image and likeness,
We fill them with fancies and desires and coyness;
Frankenstein's tea party has great lessons to teach,
Monsters must be mastered - the goal of life to reach.
07 August 2021
Frankenstein tea party 2021 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick