Long Concentration Poems
Long Concentration Poems. Below are the most popular long Concentration by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Concentration poems by poem length and keyword.
Wife's job vanished
Bank account diminishing
Future uncertain
Wolves are nosing at the door again.
My children smile at me,
Dance for joy when I come home;
Suddenly, no more fear, no worries for awhile
Funny how it takes all my concentration,
Such an effort of will,
To acheive, now and again,
The state of mind they take for granted.
The background noise of the big world is so high
One can barely think.
So I strive to rise above it,
To lift up and out of my little self
Climbing higher and higher
'Til the horizon's edges
Fall Away
And everything is Present:
No Future No Past
No Necessities
Only the one Conscious Moment
Shining here unbounded.
I see once more that I shall suffer for awhile,
But can this really touch my joys, my freedom?
- Only by my own permission.
No Joy without Pain
No Light without Dark
No Life without Death
Where are the sufferings of yesterday, of the years before?
Memories now, fading into the distance.
Troubles roll in, break over our lives
Then go, then come again
Sliding forwards and back on the tides of tomorrows.
I feel my pain, and close behind it
The world's far greater pain screaming
From its thousand daily wounds
Yet every day we go on, regardless
Fight the strain and it strengthens,
Let it break, then it recedes.
Do something, or nothing
The Wheel turns just the same.
Easily said, yet hard to do;
Nothing's more difficult
Than doing nothing.
My love runs deep, my senses alive and vibrant with her,
Countless small delights lay near to hand.
I've two children more beautiful than the stars
To gaze on as they sleep; drunken with love of them
- What matters some struggle, next to this?
Yesterday is lost to time, and tomorrow yet to be;
All I can hold is this One Moment - I must not let it fall!
I look within the Moment
Horizons Fall Away.
Reach for It - It slides away
Listen for It - no sound will come
- But glance away, be still awhile and wait
- It steals up in the wind and blows right though you, Singing.
It is like deep water.
On the surface everything changes, flows
But down below abides a Great Stillness.
Horizons Fall Away.
She said that this man, my grandfather,
held her head under the black pool water,
while up above, a German man leaned
out of his window, against the moss and brick
to scream violently: "Don't hurt that woman!
She is the most beautiful woman in the world!"
The tone of the man's voice, authoritative, cold
broke my grandfather's concentration and he
let her bob up to the surface, coughing, sputtering
in an almost drowned manner, while still maintaining a beauty uncommon to humans, as she stole a quick glance
to the heavens of heavens to acknowledge the saving
power of a stranger.
This is her story today, as she sits on three moth-eaten,
velvet pillows to make her tall enough to reach the kitchen table.
She has shrunk in her old age and is no longer "the most beautiful woman
in the world".
She sips her black coffee out of Russian demitasse cups with diamond emblems
until she reaches the grinds which have slept in warmth on the bottom,
to fool her, she thinks.
She nibbles her white toast with butter and honey and shivers in the air conditioning as royalty should.
When she has filled the remaining ten percent of her stomach (the other ninety percent was removed from the worry
of ulcers when technology was in it's infant stage), she continues her story.
It lasts all afternoon and twists and winds around the basic sub-plot that, somehow, her beauty and dignity was
acknowledged in the worst circumstances, and, with her infinite wisdom, the world was made a better place.
Her voice soaks into the wooden cabinets, and will remind me forever of strong, fresh-brewed coffee, and I think,
right at that moment as I look at my hands (which I know will resemble hers one day), that I miss my grandfather.
The most gentle man in the world, whose thoughts never amounted to more than wanting to garden well, or shape
the perfect pizza in his pizza shop.
This man, who set chairs on tables to clear the floor before he danced in pure Zorba the Greek manner, with a glint in
his innocent eyes.
This man, who looked at this woman, this fabricating, self-absorbed, once beautiful woman, with an adoration never
deserved.
I clean up the dishes, while still listening, and kiss her good bye on her forehead.
Jittery from stories caffeinated and old, I chose to walk the long way home, lightening my mood and shedding her
words along the way.
Interpreting Poetry (mine)
Similar to scrutinizing
an abstract painting,
this author begetting
obscure words dumbfounding
readers, he eludes
(no shade tree fore rest)
clear cut discerning,
yet oft times his words
garner reviews raving
esoteric word choice,
how mind boggling
to this logophile despite
more than one reading
brow (sir) furrowed -
cognitive region scrunching,
no matter intent concentration
utter futility attempting
bedeviled comprehension, whether
literary master (me? ha...
not yet), among pantheon partying,
but nonetheless birthing
present day profoundly thought provoking,
undoubtedly tirelessly expending
mental energy eventually exhausting
effort in futility understanding,
asper mine stymied
linkedin attention getting
(then just as quickly losing)
registering resignation defeat alluding
to challenge physical prowess daunting
engagement well matched savvy sparring
partner, or possibly life
and death battling
against unwittingly aggressive brutal questing
archenemy, sans toward all living
species wretched nemesis ultimately deciding
mortality tacitly accepted proffering
transient longevity refusing
to compromise, haggle, negotiate,
et cetera casting
deadened demise of victor or villain
all thru civilization starring
as unopposable tour
de force quietly biding
end date, versus indiscriminately snatching
hero, heroine, coward,
et cetera requiring
impossible ransom while donning
mask of Melpomene
(Tragedy), or trumpeting
Thalia (Comedy), no exit stage door left
only joie de vivre
until last second ticking
unbeknownst unexpected, and uninviting
deathly hallows ringtone alarming
anonymous (oh Henry)
words worth struggling
to hash meaningfulness, viz
finite existence germinating
since birth, yet
terminal realization pressing
with greater frequency when aging,
and deafeningly ear splitting
amplitude bite the bullet clamoring
to tread welcome matt acquiescing
unavoidable phase of dying
devoid of any bargain, but requiring
unconditionally punishingly suffering
silent non binding
resolution, no exemption decrying
unfair contractual obligation, nor unionizing
worth a fig yore of
speech as cosmic arbiter
blithely doth shear - pruning,
without rhyme nor reason meeting
identical fate toward everyone
even posthumous destiny yours truly awaiting.
she carries the child on tired hips rested on chains ‘round her waist
wasted on freedom designed to serve a white man’s lustful desire
branded inferior as time repeats itself and the pain knows no end
a tattoo on her skin confirms her as chattel in self-righteous shackles
festering wounds of Apartheid resemble the foul stench of humanity
as her child suckles from an empty breast and cries out for more
they did not really abandon slavery merely gave it a different name
too sweet are the rewards of exploiting the world as we know it
division of labour and they enshrined her firmly as an illiterate pawn
her soul wrapped in skin and bones and her eyes like rusted steel
an empty gaze almost gave up on merits of justice from hollow eyes
camped in concentration of power domination she is raped daily
of her dignity while she ploughs on in fields of plenty and the dust
of history and yet she never gives up on struggle for emancipation
some got the vote in a rigged system with dice slicing the fortune
disembowled by wolves in capital’s fangs her innermost treasure
has become hope that succumbs to memories of her forebears
born into poverty and meant to stay there she rattles her manacles
in vain in defeat because leg irons and handcuffs are made from
diamonds and gold in the heartland of theft and misappropriation
when her child dies she carries another from the master’s loins
expendable and forgotten her tears are salty and polish the gyves
and just maybe might help to corrode bilboes and unholy bonds
because human emotions do not forget who triggered the hurt
outcast in a so called homelands or locations she requires a pass
to enter the kingdom of opulence in which she serves as a maid
but the young maiden has become old and dies cleaning their dirt
a stolen life is all that her daughters will remember with hatred
and when they rise they too will die by the greed of their captors
but one day the tables will turn and revolve in anger and retribution
20th August 2020
‘Apartheid’ in South Africa was the system of racial discrimination
Workers needed a ‘passbook’ to enter rich suburbs for work
‘Homelands’ were the allocated regions where black people would live
Their abodes where called ‘locations’ to sweeten the tongue of evil
I hear their idle chatter and wish that sound was optional.
A box checked in a menu, a simple click and forget.
The rapid dilation of my pupils brings me back.
Back to hypnotic aisles of temptation and necessity. A selection of the finest they say.
Right there see, on the cardboard, next to charts and columns of calories and strange
numbers I’d sooner forget.
But buy one get one free still gets me every time.
I stare intently at the dancing numbers until the man with the tie moves away.
Glossy pages shine brighter than the fruit racks they mirror,
Competing for importance in my wallet and my life
The magpie wins and the bananas will wait.
Half the magazines hawk five a day in rounded sans serif, bold against the background of a
chef’s haircut.
Maxims of bizarre cosmopolitan playboys and hustlers marked up at 3.99. Landscapes of
polished flesh glow beneath the loving airbrush of the paycheck. Competing for nuts at the
zoo.
A vanity fair for the hollow, shining in the fading light of a red top sunset.
Paraphrased blogs and condensed morsels of crude celebrity nudes for the I-Generation and
the remnants of New Labour and Thatcher’s Britain.
Anglers, caravans and 50 cent, half the demographic, half the price. Count me out.
I finger a few and find no real desire. The Internet offers this bilge up for free.
They’d all be nude and crapping on each other.
The great silicon toilet of humanity
Past freezers of long dead prisoners, pulped to perfection. Pigs in tubes and flat cow
concoctions.
Pancakes of vomit and fish dishes I won’t ever try. No time for it.
Frankenstein's monster behind glass slides.
Packets of sugar in various disguises. Cereal and chocolate, soft drinks and sauce dips.
Lattes and ladles, loofahs and loaves. The prattle returns through the shelving
I turn around the curries and there is the tie. Talking sport and hard drinking, women and
the weather. Looks me in the eye.
I turn before any interaction and feign interest in something, a scouring pad. Intricately
woven metal coils waste major concentration and he’s gone. Box checked, minimize and move on.
Everything shines in this weird three-quarter light, hypnotic. Confusing. Conscious of the
bottles ahead that I can’t ever touch. Seedy and appealing, puerile and appalling.
Something for everyone.
And nothing for me.
Hey what did I miss?
Do I owe you something,
that every time I make a move in life you react?
Do I owe you success?
That every time I drown, making bad decisions
You recognize,
Judging like an expert.
Does it hurt to mind your own business?
To make absoluteness in your own garden?
And Show us how magical your opinions can be,
Unfortunately, I am not even really bothered in what you do
Course I am too focused on what I do.
Few Opportunities I blew,
And I am not afraid to start off building by a canoe
In my life patience is virtue, and that is one of my principles.
I am not running a race, nor am I in competition,
I am passionate, even risk I don't mind taking
And with assurance I am gonna top up my life with a barbeque.
I dont really care what you think of me,
Please do the same,
I am trying to live my life.
Please stay back from following me around, you are not my shade.
Please stay back, I am not getting married, I dont need a brides-maid
And I am not your lake so please stop showing up like you are a mermaid.
I am saying this and it does not mean I am afraid of you
It’s just all irritating.
Let me downgrade,
Of course that would be so unfortunate.
And Let me loose concentration,
Of course that might seem out of fashion.
You are not sorry, so no need to pretend.
Cut the act,
Course I know it is what you wanted to celebrate in a decade.
Maybe it got delayed.
And maybe I overplayed, but that is still not your concern.
Hey, Im trying to live,
I am trying to live my life the best way I know how.
I fall, I brake, I rise, I succeed, I loose, I fail, make bad decisions, overstay in my struggles?
That should not matter.
Please give me a breath,
I am just trying to live
And In advance I forgive you
Just please! stop being pain in the ass, I want relief,
I don’t wanna be aggressive
You are so destructive, please Just exit.
Exit from my bussiness,
The show is full, I don’t need a guest speaker.
You are too lost in my space please go find yourself somewhere else,
And Stop being a gossiper, you will grow weaker.
Stay focused in your own lane, and use your brain,
And Stop peeping through my book, write your own.
Live your life,
I am also trying to live my own the best way I know how.
I am trying to live,
I am trying to live my life, in peace The best way I know how.
Embarkation upon meditation...
Believe me you upon manifestation
regarding Das godaddy bing linkedin
with avast cosmic consciousness
self induced light hypnotic trance
I become enthralled
unless wife disrupts intent concentration
calling out "Matt...Matt...Matt"
bajillion times Googleplex
(slight hyperbole for literary effect),
subsequently courtesy
disembodied voices
deliver poetic inspiration
without forcefully summoned,
rather gently coax (zeal lust lee)
amidst Smokey and Bandits spiritus mundi
plethora of discordant
indistinct jabbering murmurs
requiring exacting golong strategy
kickstarting coalescence regarding
faintest hint analogously harboring
shipping news a boat
reeling in catch of the day
thus, fingers snakishly
slither skitter, sidle
at greased lightning pace
across Macbook Pro laptop keyboard
feverishly unleashing
unexpected brainstorming tsunami
recalling steely apothegm
strike while the iron iz hot,
thus such epiphany occurred
moments ago - in case
ye heard "Eureka" shouted
loud, free and clear
without moment to lose
yours truly brooked
stream of consciousness
ignoring flash flood warnings
slapped down one after another
figurative pontoon bridge
all the while skirting
eddies, whirlpools, fierce whitecaps
fortunately hauling unexpected
magnificent linkedin kindled
sense and sensibility
yours truly rendered speechless
(most time non verbal when writing),
additionally hodgepodge mashup
offers no rhyme nor reason,
yet burst of pooled
imponderable gushing silent spring
(courtesy ghost of Rachel Carson)
currently did flickr
demanding immediate typing
though poetic license expired
please don't tell commission,
nor chief word den
these unpredictable eruptions
(most likely indistinguishable
turkey in the straw gobbledygook
to the untrained eye),
rather good n plenti
camouflaged indecipherable creativity
(nope, not even practiced experts
keen on esoteric etymological arts)
stymied to understand)
mine swiftly styled harry tailored
gibberish oh baying avant
(to assign long sentence
upon Matthew Scott),
which "FAKE" premature ejaculation
incorporating poppycock mishmash
screened for your viewing discomfort
unbelievably came to this homeless tramp,
while he plodded across no man's land
with hud door hubble mojo risin.
This Poem was submitted for the poetry contest "Jamie's interesting contest 1" sponsored by Jamie Pan, for theme #6. Reflections in a window.
Once while my mind was drifting through a cafe fenestration,
Whence my cappuccino cup carouseled round a mindless spun spoon,
A presence within a reflection's penumbral lines broke my lack of concentration:
A woman stood between the clash of shadows and pale light of the moon.
She stood there in the street resound on the glass,
Dressed in a pomegranate gown which melted to the ground.
Around her the air shuttered and shook within a glowing gas,
And she stared at me through the glass, although her head was not around.
Looking around to see if anyone else could see her too,
The busied bodies around me kept on being, undisturbed.
I rubbed my eyes and shifted to erase her from my view,
Yet she stayed put in the window with her body unperturbed.
"The horseman is a marewoman" I thought, fancying myself clever,
"And she is headed to a ball and forgot her head;
Perhaps we've been telling the story of Cinderella wrong forever"
The thoughts from inside my attention deficit head said.
I stopped, when suddenly, the phantom in the reflection crossed her arms,
And I imagined her absent head shaking in disgust.
Having unwittingly insulted a ghost, who haunted me in a foreign town of farms,
I apologized in my head to this woman whom I was beginning to distrust.
Guilt was replaced with anxious fear as I realized this woman was in my mind,
Hearing my thoughts and reacting to them appropriately.
Sweat trickled down my neck and dropped into the cup of espresso grinds,
And I averted my gaze from the woman and noticed the barista looking at me.
Having noticed me staring intently through his window,
He looked through to see where my sight dove in to swim,
I looked at him look and then looked where my eyes had showed,
When the woman lifted her arm and pointed right at him.
He dropped his demetasse, which cracked in half upon the floor,
Spilling a machiatto onto the granite beneath his feet.
He looked back at me whilst everyone looked as he swore,
As he quickly cleaned up his mess to make it, yet again, neat.
I immediately went up to him before I had time to think,
And asked: "So you saw her, too?"
To which he said with a wink,
"Saw who?"
2/15/17
First of all I wish to share my personal experience about my career.
Actually I am working as an educator. After my training, I found a job in one of the reputed colleges. I started working in this industry because one of my aunts worked in this industry. In her point of view, this is a very good field for youngsters to do interesting and satisfying work. Sharing what we know to others is one of the satisfying and godly things we can do to our society. This is why I chose to apply for this.
Now let’s come to the topic. As we all know, 20-30 years ago, Education was based only on teachers, libraries and books. People used to sit for hours in the library looking for the books related to their assignment works or research paper. But nowadays, everything and everyone is connected through Internet. Now we can complete the same work within a minute by surfing through the websites.
One of the great writers, ‘Ernest Agyemang Yeboah’ said - “What shapes the best in us dies when the best education dies! The best in us shall always be undermined when those that are responsible for shaping the best in us are always undermined!”
Whatever may be the skills, surely those skills will help the child later in it’s life to achieve something great.
Here we list some of the important skills which every child needs to incorporate.
Build concentration and self-discipline
Keeping yourself focused on one thing is really important, especially for students. Children grow according to some common schedules, habits, and routines only when their parents teach them. This will also help them learn control and focus on one particular thing.
Communication
It is important to develop interaction and communication between the children in everyday life and exchange ideas to develop their healthy, social and emotional skills. They should understand what to communicate and share with others. Sometimes they will need their parent’s help regarding how to share it most effectively.
Include reading habits
As we all know, reading is the best way to connect with yourself and with the world out there. As they improve their reading habit, they will be aware of words, particular situations, emotions or stories.
d respond to them, and help to solve their questions or confusions.
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Only if you knew that you live like a God in a place my heart has found you fit to rule
only if you knew that I would be the opposite of what God would cal one of his own if I Were to find out that not only I
Can make you smile and make you feel sugary and not have an explanation for it
Only if you knew
you would recent the idea of falling asleep on my chest
The very foundation of your peacekeeping concentration camp would play out like the rest
You would start believing in a curse
only if you knew what would happen in the Myst of a fairy-tale Adam and eve would see themselves immortalized in being chopped in half
if My existence learnt that the absence of another man in one of the most important days of your life brought you nothing but the question of where you stand
while I. The King Still reigns by your side
I would crack open the heavens and drag down an angel with its wing
Hold it down long enough till the sins of this earth stain it so that the rejection would last longer that than existence itself
Only if you knew
How that stayed with me without knowing
The honesty we find in solace
sets us on road trips we don't have lunch boxes for
sometimes,is it about listening or is about subjecting yourself to the moral of what is right
My dear
I know the power of chemistry,It has the tendency of showing off by blowing up before the magician can make a perfect landing
Especially when the story was left on a good note
subliminally,
He invaded my castle
killed my guards and two pit bulls got into my fortress
sat on my throne and felt home
only if you knew what it does to me
That you too can establish communication that is no where to be seen
It breaks my ego in what can be put together again
only if you knew
what I would give to have the ability to snatch his contact numbers off your mind
you can look me in the eye
Serenade me with what you have to say with your mouth but its your eyes that I am looking for
windows to your soul my love
I wish you knew
how beating your life because your heart is deformed can have an impact in your trust
The trust our names put together rhymes with
Subliminally
Are we really that strong?
are we aware of the vulnerabilities that are there to parish us off
Maybe just maybe
I am reading to much into a dream
could the feeling be mutual ?