Long Conducive Poems
Long Conducive Poems. Below are the most popular long Conducive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conducive poems by poem length and keyword.
My silent serene soul softly craves your candles of crystalline calm.
Your gallant greens of golden glow gently beam with bumbles, bashing blissful thoughts in a thundering whisper.
Our chemistry and connection is madly enchanted in ethereal crimson certainty of nectar's new dawn.
I want to own the oceans and you like I hold my butterflies and beliefs.
Rumple my radiant lips on silhouette sheets of your secret shoulder yard, leaving amaranth art of kisses on your lavender chest.
Letting your spikes of spices chase me into a search of serenity.
You are my wind in the wild storm.
The whisperer, wanderer in my mystical melodies.
You are the tempting thoughts in my tempestuous tides, thrilling the turbulent twilight of my heavenly heart.
The mesmerizing midnight memories in the infinite brain of my independent heart.
I'm nightfall without your luminous laughter.
I'm dateless without your conducive calendar of pink promises.
I'm the death of a wasteful war and torn tears from the endless screams.
Be the pondering puzzles of my relentless reasoning.
The savoury solitude in my sour soul.
The hibiscus honey and roasted peanuts in my poetic pantry.
My rustling reckless reflection in muttered excuses.
And I'll be your rainbow, your Rosa Juliet.
Your chocolate cosmos. Your scout for love in the jungle of jasmine spring.
I have fondly found fleeting fragrances of happiness from the ryhming rheum in your eyes. It is daring densely, hallucinating hazardously, making me stare still till I blindly bleed in haphazard hues.
Till eternity my love, your secret silence is the riff in every song. It is the splash of every sound. The hair on my stirred skin. The pulchritudinous phases of pain in astrological agony.
Stand, stand my sublime king so thou shalt see the height of my love for thee.
Listen, listen my charming prince so you shall hear my painting in every voice.
So you can feel the breathless bath of the present and the tickle in the tapestry of our voiceless vows, viciously channeled through the thighs of our bond and the sync of your seductive grasp.
So I can smell the wind of your hands slowly stroking my sensitive skin and the attention of my hairs saluting your stemless grasps.
My soul critically craves you my workshop and I your tools.
The way she wore Chuck Taylors
and wide leg JNCO jeans
with a backpack and a skateboard
your average 90's teen.
Music meant life those days
with a wide range of variety
in my CD collection
from Etta James to Rage Against the Machine
but Sublime will always be my favorite obsession
To get by i started getting high
creating a lack of motivation
I stopped trying to try.
Class of '99
a whole year ahead of my peers
young and lost without direction
began the "adulting" part of my years
Mistakes by the many
not yet learning from the pain
Waisted time spent hurting
instead of the wisdom there to gain
By the time I understood
Its not what we say but what we do
and it all happens for a reason
so we can grow thru what we go thru
Maturity isnt ones right
And timing isnt set in stone
for noone can learn a lesson for you
its a journey meant to venture alone
The struggle gets so real at times
its appealing to not give a
but giving no s at all
leaves you growing stale and stuck
Let your words and your actions
be conducive to the future u want to live
Keeping in mind that those who recieve the most
are the ones who chose first to give
Repeataive patterns with reason
as stated previously
is more than just an issue its also now opportunity
When.
Not if.
Life gets harder and seems unreal
Simply adjust how you look at things
and youll also change how you feel
Always accept whatever happens
dont hold onto the past
Learn and let go
or itll pass by way too fast
Live with no regrets.
Live with no shame.
Cause it dont matter how you feel
Its how you play the game
My final piece of knowledge to share
is dont be so hard on yourself
With all the beauty found in the struggle
You discover the most valuable kind of wealth
Agree or disagree
I learned all this the hardest of ways
But the years i belived i knew everything
were thankfully just a phase
When i accepted i knew nothing
and ultimatly had more to learn
I stared listening to understand
instead of listenning to respond in turn
And age is just a number
that time uses to tell us a lie
Cause no matter how old i get
Ill be rockin my Chuck Taylors till i die.
I can't write nuttin' worth a damn on a full stomach!
Hunger pangs fuel mine poetic juices,
yours truly moost best be famished
resembling lovely bag of bones
beyond irreparable damage
wrought courtesy anorexia nervosa
nevertheless literary masterpieces
one written quick succession after another
profusely gushes forth
unstoppable tsunami surges rhythmically
metaphorically allowing,
enabling, and providing
voluminous water logged noggin
able, ready and willing
to burst infinite outpouring
at Möbius strip cerebral seams.
Hyperbole employed
regarding above attestation
regarding conducive bodily
state to whip out
acceptable, passable and
reasonable rhyming creation
to experience and
witness poetic emancipation,
whereby until the end
of time modest glorification
endowed upon me who
imbues vast majority inspiration
of contemporaries, plus unborn peoples...
imagine renowned said
author wannabe just for kicks
(sinks false teeth
into verboten rotten apple -
oohing and aahing yum zuck)
subsequently vicious rumor affecting
millions future generations
debauched learned primates
inescapably slide into behavioral mosh pit
analogous to eventual
senescent cellular detritus
sloughed off vis a vis keratinization
anyway figuratively swinging around
deftly cycling back thru
imaginary infinite jesting loop
unlikely neither chance fame nor fortune
promises me financial materialization,
nope, not even until hell freezes over,
nor when grim reaper feasts upon
*****sapiens obliteration
witnessing every flora and fauna
molecular repurposing quantification
simulates signifying universal recycling
umpteenth big bang occurrence
erasing all cosmic consciousness
nary trace left behind
encompassing collective satisfaction
since genesis wrought life forms
wherein primitive organisms
begot reproduction fast forward bajillion years
madding crowd punctuated
planet Earth avast urbanization
essentially branding oblate spheroid
viz totally tubular vinyl city westernization.
In a place where the fog pillows
a dreamscape of the hidden en trance wallows its hallows.
To swallow re view of, the mind
and the billows, a wind of a kind.
Of surfkiss bubble ups touch'es salvos.
Seemingly baubles in promotion
of needful windows-unseen
premissions-ejaculaisse, right on the nose.
A shared magic in dialect connects
meaning with a memory calls collect, direct,
has soul purpose among other things, ironicly,
counter-intunively-in circumvitrospect er.
Has remembrance, shared affinity,
emotional director y,
family-i-organ-ic-bionicgl-ee.
This is the place awareness calls home
in it's liquid notions of tomes written spiritus sanctis-
chemically-inSalted
acids of substantive accruary.
If you have a wish, now would be a good time,
for those consol-i-data-consideration-heart-queries.
The neuron Elementals tend to pixielate their
own designs if not given constant super vision-
that sells them on your ideals and turn them
into action or reaction.
.
They are an elusive bunch, randomly-
arbitrary seeming,
but that is non obligatory without meaning.
If you just read your contract, that is,
if you could remember any?
We have total deniability and no liability,
only clauses and causes and theoretical plausibility.
"Got spirituality?"
Close your eyes, they are waiting on you.
One particularly naughty neuropixie too,
Pestgeminii, is easily bored,
and may cast deja vu if scorned.
She may just choose to
have her more conducive ideas
skip the line in lieu, of attachment stow away
postaged return waved in out of the blue.
She is a romantic at heart.
The one that keeps asking,
"remember when, we", bright eyed,
and she always gets her what she came for,
on lover's lane,
in the front seat overlooking life's hills and valleys.
She always gets a rise out of the youth in you
at memory lane, remembering the senses
freshed cell o phaned,
like a teenager with spirit at rally of homecoming,
A game.
Upon revelation’s flight
Under Orion’s focus
I witness a fiery glow towards familiar horizons.
‘Tis no sunrise
It is a striking reality.
My saddened retinas witness monochromatic pitchforks,
Desolated screams,
Embellished declarations from misguided leaders
And self-made stallions riding into condescending sunsets
Without any earned punctuation to be taken seriously
A House of Eroded Representatives
A village of One
A village of souls
Pushing
Back
…
There was a home upon these well-worn landing strips.
This was my home.
But, these forged rooftops now taste
Withering, hurricane gusts of red velvet cake’s mold
Rusted nails forcibly detached from honored foundations
Unto egotistical coffins
The reality
Shining through meter-less corruptions
Comes full circle
Small doses of poisonous vendettas
Fed from tarnished, silver spoons
Echoes of Cuban Fidel
Lace elasticity of “open arms”
With onyx, unfiltered coffee drops
Coating infant’s petulant lip
Witnessing cotton-less sheep walking with listless fervor
Towards silenced, condemned “Noahs”
I signal pilot within my melancholic wisdoms
To redirect our flight
To a new horizon
To an unsheltered domain
Where even waterfalls still allow
Conducive verbiage to rise
Amongst the unabashedly meek
To a destination
Where stature is defined by all
Not by one
Where character
Is developed under accountabilities’ pen
Where high horses & curtained theatrics
Are the only victims of banned tomorrows
Where honor
Is still defined
Without deleted, impulsive banter
Where friendship,
Love,
Wisdom,
Memories,
Shine
…
Because
Things
Things are no longer the same
Things are no longer the same
Things are no longer the same.
©Drake J. Eszes
“And my ties are severed clean. The less I have, the more I gain. Off the beaten path, I reign.” –Wherever I may Roam by Metallica (my lifelong song)
Of course on this night we are supposed to be asleep so Santa
could come, but we hadn't been home from Midnight Mass very long, and the
invigorating cold was not conducive to sleep. Even the hot chocolate did not do
much to help sedate the excitement.
We were hoping for sleds that year. The snow was perfect for
sledding especially like we did it. We tied out sleds on behind the car or pick up
and were pulled through the hills. We got our sleds. My dad and my uncle made
them for us.
No television and only in the late years were we allowed to use the
radio. Batteries were to expensive for frivolous use. We spent many hours
playing cards or games.
I took time out and went to high school and college and got my
teaching certificate.
My aunt taught there only one year after the Federal Government
turned the schools over to the local government.
The last time I was back there the out buildings had been moved and
Indian families were living in them. The school was dirty and unkept.
Now the school is gone. The ancestors who once walked these
dusty plains are gone. The Indians who were there when I was a child are gone.
They are Ghosts. Ghosts whose faces can be seen in the clouds.
Ghosts who still chop wood on those sub zero nights. And the drums we heard
in the middle of the nights are still beating. They beat as strongly as the heart
beats in a healthy body. The laughter of the children still echoes under the
bridge.
The life blood of a culture, of a nation grows thin. The Battle of
Wounded Knee was the last battle to be fought between the white man and the
Indian on the northern plains. It's cries still echo across the land.
My foot prints in the creek did not last any longer than those they left
in the dust. But in my memories, this mile and a half by three quarter mile haven
still lives. And will live forever as a piece of unrecorded history.
Skipping thoughts across gelatin rings.
Into the reservoir of Lethologica
freezing-mirror- reflecting.
Nothings back to me.
What once was so lucid, liquid transfusive, a free flowing mainline of Offering, conducive to something.
A hopeful seminary seminar.
Priestly Dreams: Turned Cold:
WaxingColdOfPrisonOfShielding
Unseen:PulseStar Bard
Hands:Snatching Shards of Fleeced Gold, of my mind as a drunkard reeling.
I looked to the Sky:
Milking the udder of strange new Principality:As Abductee
Parseic layers onsites-between.
Exposed:Exposing
Themselves:In HiveMind
DemonsTake-AI-Host, Coast to Coast, raping with frequency
The Dark Spectrum:
E Spells:Algorecium
Ghost in the Machine:
Seizing Domain:Leasing Pay for Plug and Play
While Silicon Valley burns
Fires rolling, dancing, caroming pyres of turning man, mid-orgy
Free-Association, only for the initiated, the initialized agenda
Mitigated, pseudo-pre-arbitrated
Alarm set to 1 minute to midnight, alarming, arming Mercenary
LiberalMalefactorial
Mine Crypto ID farming:not arbitrary, quite the Contrary
Derision, division, blurred vision.
Monopolistic-air-intrusion.
From the Dragon of Old
Tele-InPrompt-To-talking point decisions, prepared by The Institute that gives The Institutions asylum and Island screams
In Thunder-Domes beneath Catacombs.
Windows, gateways and corridored rooms become alleyways and byways and by the way...boom
Of trafficking everything dark, everything that can be found in a deal of a backroom or redroom
Mad Max-Headroom meets Terminator meets in the middle,
Of Pentagram
A Witches Platoon on the deserted battlefield of treasonists and the FBook-A-wall
Controllers of the atmosphere, Dune, expand the disband, gasp, sprawl
These dry bones will be awakened soon.
Why wouldn' t you expect it?
Shifting sands, sifting uncover truth.
In fact the Vultures of Man's Desert will Direct It.
DUNE
the god particle concedes to a universal mass
as predictably, it announces its presence
taking the holy sacrament from under its glass
beliefs from before so consigned obsolescence
we now think we know - no...really, we do
how the universe came to exist, massively being
galaxies of stars, unseen dark matters, us too
giving God a reason to give our lives meaning
photons and gluons of stuff are Peter's principals
bosons innumerable occupy the same quantum stated
the best minds wraparound said concept so quizzical
but not before a big bang began branches bifurcated
bosons like fermions those particles elementary
that come into existence and are gone in a blink
transcendental though we may think they seem to be
harder to transcend than at last we might think
what are we to learn of ourselves from this tidbit
of long sought actual theoretical enlightenment
can we care more for each other just a tiny bit?
and concede happily to life's common wonderment
let us learn with concern what CERN can discern
about all the quirks and quarks of this universe
give mankind a good reason to give out a good turn
and make our corner a bit better than the subverse
add Lederman, the goddamn particle's indefinite article
"so central to the state of physics today, yet so elusive" *
is like the first time you borrowed your Dad's vehicle
for a ride with your squeeze to amour more conducive
you wanted get down to the real heart of the matter
and experience the unknown pleasures of knowing
your delving into places and matters that matter
the whole experience just drives you to keep going
© Goode Guy 2012-07-05
* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Higgs_boson#.22God_particle.22
http://www.npr.org/2012/07/04/156248281/new-subatomic-particle-may-be-physics-missing-link
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Higgs_boson
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Higgs
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CERN
Tooth Brush
Tender bristles plenty in number
Against the shiny enamel
Like ears of millet plantation
Tossing heads
Against perfumed brush of swooning breeze
Allure tongues not lesser
Than vehement kisses
O! Tooth Brush!
Charmed equally
Miners and milliners
You are simply a principle
A scientific proposition
Easy to understand and easy to follow
You’ve traversed all the barriers
Whether caste, creed, faith or genders
Shaped the humanity
By taking out of suicidal tendency
Green twigs with candid smile on their
Countenance often whisper
Words of gratitude
And thankfulness chirruped around
O! Tooth Brush!
Unpredictable behavior of men
Berserk nature
And distressing time have left us
Rattled to the core.
New era of uncertainty
Has befallen on humanity
We no longer behave social
Neither have we believed in equality
When our branded outfit fails to work
We resort to verbal dominance.
We reposed to coughing like
Cart-harnessed horses.
For myriad reasons
Ranging from evolution to culture
Life taken to extremes
Are but common sights.
Wellness is being traded in the colonies
Where regular vegetable venders even don’t
Find it conducive to sit in.
Some of us are confined in comma
For more than a decade now.
We have requested our lawmakers
To formulate a statute
On rights to death
To plausibly justify the supremacy
Of faith upon humanity.
Our problems are grave
And time grim.
Poets must be excused.
It is modern world rendering
The poetry this difficult,
O! Tooth brush!
Time is also not ripe to doubt our pedagogy.
When it is felt necessary
We would need your proposition
Of universal acceptance
And anti suicidal instinct
Further reduced
To simple mathematical form,
So that it can be included in curriculum
For coming generations
To prepare psychologically
For radical surprises
O! Tooth Brush!
I am very disappointed in what women have subjected them too, what we as a gender consider tolerable, it’s in every encounter, in the very way that we move.
It disgust me, leaves a foul taste in my mouth, because what they have done is neglected the truth, forgotten what doesn’t change is the so called golden rules,
we are caught up and off by lies and deceit, by thinking it takes a man for a woman to be complete, and I have said it before and I will say again, you don’t have to lower your standard or be a beneficial friend,
Friends with benefits, it’s not conducive to the plan, he’ll fall short from his responsibility if you don’t require him to stand,
Why do you need him to determine your worth, you were placed a solid spirit beautiful at birth,
Why does the way he sees you make it okay, for you think or speak or move a certain way,
you see we are powerful in our purpose and simply by design, created to help men find the strength to climb, to grow, to build, to set spirits free, we give them the joy that comes with their need,
Their need for us, the air that they breathe, our definitive goal is to help them achieve, be the miracle that add detail to all they believe,
we pick them up when they tumble, not to critique their progress, accepting they’ll stumble, and out into reality we send them again, so they realize some days we lose and others days we win,
we move apart but together as one, like the melody and words or the rising of the sun, it’s the melding of spirits that make separate okay, that allow two complete aura to blend in a perfect way,
but women that forget and lose that unique twist disappear in the loudness , where the essence of a wife fails to exist, not there in the dark where they tolerate pain, where they lose what they believe to become a statistic in the game,