Long Conclusion Poems
Long Conclusion Poems. Below are the most popular long Conclusion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conclusion poems by poem length and keyword.
when one stands up against injustice
when one spits in the face of those that oppress &
shows not one ounce of fear in their eyes
often, if fortunate, standing amidst others who have come to
the same conclusion,
at first, it is like a joke being told at a comedy club
where there isn’t even a drink minimum---
for the need for customers is so drastic,
the club doesn’t want to ruffle any feathers by
asking at least that as a price for sitting all night
under a roof & listening to comedy.
as the plague of convention
spreads like the contagion that it so blatantly is,
more come to the conclusion of the initially brave
(and to many, thought to be the initially “insane”)---
people begin to see that things are being done wrong to them
as well,
and suddenly, because others have already put their lives on the line
in order to lock arms & fight
what they no longer think can be ignored,
this kindling gives way to a larger fire
which soon spreads on its own,
counteracting the wall of poisonous status-quo, complacence &
all out submission to the will of those that
feel that they are unstoppable,
offering not a crumb to the individuals challenging them &
still, the seriousness of the matter is not fully understood
by those which have become desensitized to any possibility of
actual change in their lifetime.
as the fire continues to grow & spread, becoming fiercer with
every gust of wind, ever new addition to the flames,
those that felt unstoppable begin to question their own ability
to crush the fire,
if they deem it out of hand,
that is, if their kingdom is on the fringe of being
invaded---
and it will come,
the bludgeoning of the spreading fire will be one of never before seen
ferocity,
for examples have to be made,
in order for those in power to prove that they still have power &
blood will be spilt, in fact,
blood is being spilt as this writer types
(little puddles now, written off as “unruly dissidents,” only foreshadowing a river of blood leading to a vast ocean).
it is the spilling of blood which ignites the last few,
those that thought it would all blow over &
that their lives could stay pretty much the same,
if they just stuck it out---
when friends, relatives and neighbors begin to bleed,
be it through destruction of property, incarceration, injury or death,
the once comfortable are forced to open their eyes &
decide which side they're on.
(Gen. 1: 1, 14 / * Isa. 26: 4 / Isa. 43: 10 , Isa. 44: 6 , Isa. 45: 5-7, 17, Isa. 46: 9-11 /
* Acts 1: 7 / * Eccl. 3: 1-8, 11 / Mark 13: 30-33 / 1 Tim. 1: 17 / Jude 25 / Rev. 21 :6)
The King Of Eternity Gave Me Laser Answers
So That I Would Know of All Matters
That It's All Only A Matter of Time
Yes, All Things Are Set In Time's Prime
Yes, It's All Only A Matter of Time's Size
It All Comes In The Frame As Time Supplies
The Past, The Present & The Future All Relates
It All Devolves Upon The Time That It Takes To Make:
Once Upon A Time:
One Drop of Water Pierced A Stone-Face Into A Smile
One Step Then Another Paced A Walk, A Million Miles
One Speck of Dust Then Another Made Earth's Mosaic-Tiles
... of Pebbles Into Boulders Until The Many Mountains Piled
& A Child Grew From An Embryo, As One Cell Multiplied
All In A Matter of Time's Length & Scope & Steady Strides
Once Upon A Time:
One Thread Joined Another Until Its Sewn Into A Fashion Style
& Years Reached The Hour's Stroke That Heralded End of Trials
Each Separate Instant As It Happened - Produced History's Files
See - Its All Only A Matter of Time, All The While
There Is A Time For Every Matter & A Time For Every Thing
It's All Only A Matter of Time's Space, Track & Sync
So It's Only A Matter of Minutes In The Continuum of Time
'Til We'll Meet The Moment - All Is Divine
Whether Its A Hard Conclusion or An Easy Climb
Whether Infinity Is Curved or In A Strict, Straight Line
Whether We Fail To Find Our Own Finally Arrived Sign
Or The Start & A Stop & In The Middle That Binds
Its All Only In A Matter of Time ...
Whether That's To Catch Ocean Waves or A Winds Cadence
Or To Fly Thru Galaxies By The Speed of Light's Radiance
Time Is Ever Moving Forward & Spreading In The Distance
Time Has No Break & Man Can't Hold Time With Resistance
Time Is A Touchstone, That A Traveler Uses As A Chart
Minutes Are Modes of Transport, In Time's Non-Stop March
A Moment Is Only A Motion, of Emotional Import
Yet Whether Its Digital or Analog or Of A Sundial Sort
We Can Touch Time - From Our Own Back-Porch
Time of Itself Is An Interval ... & Time Is A Track
One Can't Rewind Actions & Time Won't Run Back
(Unless of Course GOD Himself Designates That Act)
But Time Is Organized & A Tamper-Proof-Fact
(Part 1 of 3)
Written & Copyrighted © : 9/9/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
The death penalty, a practice rooted in antiquity, continues to evoke controversy and ethical dilemmas in modern society. Despite its purported role in deterring crime and administering justice, the death penalty stands on shaky moral ground and should be abolished for several compelling reasons.
Firstly, the irreversible nature of the death penalty is inherently flawed. In a justice system prone to human error, the risk of executing an innocent person is ever-present. Numerous cases worldwide have revealed wrongful convictions, highlighting the fallibility of judicial proceedings. Once a life is taken, there is no recourse for rectifying such a grievous mistake, perpetuating an irreversible injustice that stains the fabric of society.
Moreover, the death penalty undermines the fundamental value of human life. By sanctioning state-sanctioned killings, societies diminish the sanctity of life and condone violence as a means of resolving conflicts. Such a stance contradicts the principles of compassion, rehabilitation, and forgiveness, which should underpin any civilized society's legal framework.
Furthermore, the death penalty fails to achieve its purported goal of deterrence. Empirical evidence suggests that the threat of capital punishment does not significantly deter individuals from committing heinous crimes. Instead, socioeconomic factors, mental health issues, and systemic inequalities often drive criminal behavior. Investing in preventative measures, such as education, poverty alleviation, and mental health services, would yield more effective and humane solutions to reducing crime rates.
Critics argue that the death penalty provides closure to victims' families and serves as a form of retribution. However, vengeance should not be conflated with justice. Studies have shown that the prolonged legal processes and endless appeals associated with death penalty cases exacerbate the victims' families' trauma, prolonging their suffering rather than offering closure.
In conclusion, the abolition of the death penalty aligns with the principles of justice, compassion, and human rights. By rejecting this antiquated and morally dubious practice, societies can move towards a more enlightened and humane approach to criminal justice—one that prioritizes rehabilitation, reconciliation, and the inherent worth of every individual.
I am whatever you say I am...
but, let's get back to reality...
Three short years ago, this room shined welcome mats across a screen of doldrums.
A place of unfamiliarity that screamed,
"You don't belong!"
Yet, a voice of reason spoke and said,
"Expand yir' roots. Venture beyond the comfort zone. Academia resides inside that room, but know you won't be alone."
Repeatedly,brainwaves declined what my wife and editor had told me.
I'd say,
"no way, I'm givin' up my soul for free, they read, they pay, like it's always been, the way it's going to always be!"
Unbeknownst to me one day, and with a slight of hand, my "Open Sores" were put on display and surprisingly more than a handful of great ladies and nice guys began to give feedback on what I had devised.
This interaction was something very new, helpful, and impressive. For a change, it was something real.
For years, those around me were quick to give praise with hidden reasons. Constructive criticism is amazing, and I welcomed being corrected or set straight.
Now there are those who choose to shut me down without explanation, and call me names.
DO NOT mistake me for sophomoric! These words bleeding from my guts have no style and need no approval. There is no thinking involved here, no plan. If you don't like it, fine...don't censor or bracket me in. So what if I am illiterate? If you don't like "street poetry" or the pathetic stuff I write, don't read it. If I offend you, tell me.
We should welcome those who are different than us.
Words of truth inspire movement, like fire.
I came to this room to expand my horizons, step outside the box, learn, help, grow.
There will be no apologies dealt for being different, or for being labelled as something uncomfortable to you.
This has been an ok room so far, but there is some clique trickanery going on.
If the dictionary must come into play, let me recommend looking up the term "Poetic License."
True, I may not be the writer you prefer, or aspire to be....but tread carefully my friend, for you have no idea of my profession. I've made a fine living, for a good long time, spewing words onto paper. I came from nothing, and may still be nothing to you...still, I do what I love, have no boss.
I am not an aspiring writer who dreams of a life, I live my dream. In conclusion, I must wish you luck in finding what you peddle poetry for. Until then, keep
I also feel blasé today February 19th, 2024
Linkedin to being lax,
and shirking house cleaning tasks,
which negligence cost us
(yours truly and the missus)
a golden opportunity
to relocate to Hillcrest Village
in Boyertown, Pennsylvania
another HUD subsidized property
under the aegis of Grosse and Quade,
one of the larger residential
property management firms
in the Delaware Valley.
Physical unwellness
(insync with racing heart) arose
because Kathleen Bergen
the new property manager
here at 2 Highland Manor
voiced absolute zero positive feedback,
upon taking lock, stock, and barrel
of appalling living conditions,
her blistering vocalization
(from wuthering heights)
translated as a foregone conclusion
against our hopes
pinned on moving into
two bedroom apartment
referenced above topmost lines.
Said plummeted disappointment
(courtesy blunt admission
out the mouth of
(humpty dumpty sat on a wall)
frumpty recent hire
identified in a previous poem
as new warden)
verbosely predicated upon
gross appearance of living space
immediately dashed cautious optimism
citing unkempt state
within no crater than
moonwalking unit b44,
whereby we wished to skadaddle
far away from obligation
to be mindful of rules and regulations
codified within a binding lease.
Unlikely home ownership
will ever come to pass,
nor the lesser prospect
to rent more spacious domicile
larger than a one bedroom apartment,
no bigger than a bread box
den me and the missus,
(a hen pecking spouse)
might befriend Bugs Bunny,
who might guarantee
adequate sized rabbit hole
constituting large enough wonderland
receiving stamp of approval
courtesy Alice in Chains
subsidized lodging money back
plus additional warren tee
granted by Mister Michael Fox,
who took me back to the future,
when the pace of life
plodded along at leisurely rhythm.
Only within outer limits
realm of twilight zone,
where dark shadows
inch along edge of night
(while two thumbs and index finger
belonging to separate good sports
grab hold the furcula
(or wishbone) structure
formed by the ventral fusion
of the right and left clavicles
and the median interclavicle
silently mouth invocation)
holds at bay, the inexplicable phenomena
moored, harbored, and docked
awaiting lucky recipient,
whose merrythought bestowed
upon he/she, they/them.
"Do you really think I am that heartless to just leave my parents in danger without any shame? Guilt? I felt all of that. Many times in my journey I almost turned back, but I could not win against my heart's desires. I could not avoid the fate the gods had laid out for me. I too am a victim." At this point, Princess Layla was bawling her eyes out. She knew she had the Lady of the Gods eating out of her hands, when the old woman bent down and hugged her tightly whilst also crying.
"It's okay, my child. Your parents are alive. The king did not sentence them to death, because the empress bore a son resulting in the pardon of everyone who had committed a crime.Thank the merciful gods." The news of her parents survival did nothing for Princess Layla as they too had sacrificed her to the king , but she was glad her escape had not caused any bloodshed.
In the moment of distraction, the old witch raised a dagger and mercilessly stabbed Princess Layla in the back. "Wh..y", the princess inquired as color drained from her rosy cheeks. The old witch stood and left but as her silhoutte faded to a black shadow, her final words rang loud in dying ears. "A princess who betrays her nation deserves nothing less than death."
"Outrageous! What kind of play has such a... a stupid end?" That's all Princess Jasmine could think of as she watched the princess take her final breath on stage. She finally understood why her mom insisted she see the play. It was a warning, a friendly warning. As the truthness of it all hit her, Princess Jasmine was ever so thankful to be sitted. Her insides felt queasy as fear gripped her. She could suddenly feel a cold blade on her warm skin. No. No. No! She had to get out of here. Tell Robert that they couldn't run away together. Tell him she loved him but had to marry the king. How could she betray her kingdom? Granted she hadn't done anything but she'd thought of it and mother knew. Oh, no! Mother knows. Is Robert okay? She wouldn't do anything to him, would she? Oh, no! No. NO. As her thoughts spiraled out of control, Princess Jasmine stumbled out of the suffocating theater like a drunkard. In her hurried, haphazard exit, she bumped into a dark figure. For a moment, a handsome smile invaded her line of vision. When she tried a sorry, she really regretted scoffing down all the those cakes they gave out during the cursed play.
the ghost of science, born of blasphemy ~
a fossilized fallacy,
seized from the metallic heart of Mars,
seeks light amidst night-terrors
like an alien sculpted
from artificial accolades,
an embryo stuck in the interstellar state
of becoming,
stitched within radioactive ribs
beneath moonless skies,
when wolves of the eclipsed howl,
filling the illusive air with hypnotic lies,
as if the world chose to recycle
ruins of ancient dust…
but will the naive see the pain
of a breathing corpse?
engrossed in narcissistic echoes,
in the shadows of a megalomaniac ~
his skin ~ the translucent truth,
his eyes ~ the wickedness of a wasp,
his skull ~ reeks of human greed,
his sighs ~ mourn like skeletal sirens,
coded in russet rust,
cloned from binary sand,
d o r m a n t
yet
d r e a m i n g
to break free from the
carbon-based existence…
for he is the aftermath
of programming the forbidden mind,
oblivious to the weakness of scientific errors ~
a deceptive drawing,
framing the elongated hypothalamus,
pulsating a hypothesis
left with no clear conclusion.
tonight I run to a realm of reality
that fades when
dawn bleeds gold,
for truth is now an extinct breed,
as artists outline faces of the faded,
illustrating the unknown and unseen,
as revelations ribbon
with silver haze…
the constellations ~ no longer spectators ~
they are the archived,
within frozen scriptures,
scrolling stars in a sphere
of distorted algorithm…
as memories of angels and heaven
spill from silicon prophets,
disguised as messengers who serve
the blind with ominous oracles ~
in synthetic cadence,
in a choir of puppets ~
the iron-glazed tongues shall recite,
mimicking the sound of harmonious hymns…
yet I remember
the authentic rhythm of prayers,
lost now in the drifting colors of darkness…
so what is life
when all that floats is like
an engineered empyrean
only equations of numbers
can decipher?
is this the beginning of an end ~
inevitable?
the lost generation,
assembled as the ministry of superiority,
where emptiness is praised
with forged grace
and ignorance is crowned with digital deceit.
let this be flawed poetry ~
to be read through the cracked lens
of a philosopher ~
or perhaps a logic long replaced
by pretend perfection…
Watching the Olympics news
coverage today
Sadly this is the conclusion
i came to afterwards
Our British male duo won gold
in the synchronized diving event
Brilliant yes of course an
unbelievable achievent
But given more than any other
sport the clue being in the name
It should be equal appreciation
and praise for each as without
the other winning is simply
an impossibility
So how come then i know who
Tom Daley is but don't even know
his diving partner's name
Maybe that's because he was
made to appear or seem
totally irrelevant by the media
news coverage
After the pair won they cut to
Tom Daleys family his mother
husband and their baby
Then we see Tom being
interviewed , Tom singular
on his own fielding questions
mostly regarding his personal
life and sexual preference
And thanking the LGBT
community for all there support
Exactly what that has to do
with diving i hold my hands
up i do not know admittedly
i am no expert on the subject
But personally for me what
i found was the real kick in
the teeth smack in the face
As i for 1 absolutely love and
breathe sport the gift the ability
the dedication the sacrifice
Was how it was constantly
infered it was only Tom's
dream since he was a young
child to win a gold medal
Again personally and only
to me what i seen goes against
the very ethos and ideology
of what the Olympics itself
stands for
I felt so sorry for him and his
family as Tom family husband
and child got more coverage
than he did
I tried to put myself
in his or his family shoes
and tried to wonder
How they must have felt having
their joy pride stolen and cheated
from them
Reduced merely to a bit part
or side show to the main event
And again i protest because
the clue is in the name
Synchronized Diving a duo
a pair a partnership a team
1 simply can not without
the aid of the other 1 win
So tell me where on earth
is the justice and sportsmanship
to be found here
And his name by the way
just incase you missed it
or care is
Matty Lee and he to also
wanted to be and win a
gold medal
And was just as dedicated
and trained just as hard in
order to achieve and make both
theirs dream a reality
Rather than as the press and
media barely refer to him as
Tom Daleys diving partner
or the other guy
Life most certainly seems like it’s so easy to some people
And you may be right on, to something
That is, if you are looking at life as a, one period at a time, thing
But when you get the chance to add every period together
Then his life or hers, is not so different than yours
It’s just a matter of how we wear our differences
Life is a lot like the clothes we put on
And/or whether, if how we wear it, puts a smile on our faces
And how that same smile can be re-assimilated to other races
It’s all about reaching the best illusions of the truth
And the truth is…We can wear anything we want to
You and I, certainly earned our right to choose
We’ve inherited it
That is your gift
And your gift is the same as mine
But it is the same in a different way
Like how an art is different to another art form
Where every art is beautiful
Where every beautiful thing has its story
Where every story has a home in mind
And where every home is also where the heart wants to live
But I’m not talking about the heart that pumps blood in our veins
But the heart with its entire soul, unified in spirit
Like when you close your eyes, knowing full well God is in it
Like the most feasible conclusion to a punch line
Sometimes it doesn’t make sense but you get it anyhow
Because for some reason the joke made you to laugh
And your laughter makes someone else, to laugh
And all the sudden, you are a genius
All because you recognize the point to a period
And life gets reborn; that moment on
But seriously the joke is in you
And I mean that in the most constructive way
Because if you were to break that down to the tiniest piece
Life becomes all too small to miss
Or else we’re left just to reminisce
I suppose, that is, what it is, where it comes to the truth
We can only control what we can control
And we can only become who is already inside of us
And so, I thought we must all reach a point of acceptance
"This is who I am"
"This is who we are"
Individually "This is my world"
Together, “It’s ours universe”
There’s always a time to be picky and to be reserved
But now is definitely not one of those times
Because this moment, is your time to choose
As to which life to wear and what makeup to make up on
Where the best way to celebrate being, the same, is to make a difference to others
By:Wilbert E. Dela Cruz
"Systems ecology recognizes that stable conditions
give advantage to highly specialized [yet cooperative] species,
but that changing conditions
favour species known as [cooperative] generalists
that can adapt to different food,
habitat,
or [and] other factors." David Holmgren, Permaculture, p. 63
Socially healthy humans
have become
and come from
cooperative generalists
as we remain communication generalists
as we articulate being and becoming
healthy-wealthy regenerative generalists,
acting co-redemptively cooperative,
which economists define as co-invested cooperative,
and Christians delineate as co-redeemer cooperative politics,
which is also co-messianic,
which is also Earth's EcoMessianic Vocation
to become fully humane,
among Earth's Beloved MultiCulturing Communities,
cooperatively owned
and Golden Rule governing
as One CoMessianic Body.
Perhaps it is the ecological conclusion of PermaCulture Design
to believe in Earth and all inhabitants thereof
as One Messianic Body
as also well captured in the Bodhisattva nurturing tradition,
and other religious stories and themes
in which humans are seen as most fully human
as we become actively cooperative co-redeemers;
a people,
and individual persons,
who are of people now gone
who are for people and all creation here and not yet here
on Earth,
to co-invest,
co-redeem our grace as WinWin cooperators,
and not so much competitive divestors of capital treasures
hoarded for individualistic futures
or even for one's own direct patriarchal//matriarchal line
of future co-regenerators.
Seen this way,
this One Body Messianic
includes all those exposed to wisdom teachings,
whether scriptural
or mentored by healthy Elders,
and, even better,
by both,
living within Earth's natural-spiritual multiculturing Beloved Communities.
Meanwhile,
whether using a secular LeftBrain lens
or a sacred Elder RightBrain frame of BothAnd
bilateral heuristics,
we have and are two types of ecopolitical beings,
and becomings,
both socially cooperative
and anti-socially competitive.
We host daily and nightly lives
lived and dreamed
somewhere in-between all Yin Cooperative
and all Yang MonoCulturing.
But, redemption
remains in appositional tension with competition's divestment,
regardless of which economy
you choose,
and has chosen you.