Long Conflate Poems
Long Conflate Poems. Below are the most popular long Conflate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conflate poems by poem length and keyword.
Not only don’t I have one
But nobody else I know
Has an A.I. buddy, or, at least,
Will say that it is so.
I read a lengthy article
About these so-called “friends,”
Which scared me since it doesn’t seem
That these are simply trends.
Creators justify their use
To fill so many needs –
Companionship, approval,
Affirmation, all the seeds
Which we used to plant and nurture
With a living, breathing soul,
When actual relationships
Appeared to be the goal.
The future looms in ways to which
I can’t at all relate,
When real and artificial beings
Manage to conflate.
I’m glad that I won’t be around
When what we can expect
Is that everyone will need
Such a companion to connect.
Written: March 2nd, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wingbeats on warm whisper wavelength
wasteland, waves of wasabi writhe
with wilting, whimpering, witless wring
whirls and willows whimsically wave.
Emerald pride waves over meadows,
Venetian Barcarole flails and whizz
viridian desires dance onto dales,
Eurydice weeps lost love in auric tears
Dawn draws dwindle, damp dimples.
Of flickering flowers and floating stars
Orpheus, the poet in paint-stained palms
portrays the paradoxes in love,
a roar of zeal and salty air in a blue sky
love stings, even endless moons
In ablaze that seldom strikes
Elysium ethereal elixir of souls.
With such spongy, slippery strokes
soothing serenade in early spring
Thunder rumbles, but cannot shatter
love of Orpheus and Eurydice
Destiny is etched in their stride
as wingless wisps prose sang and swam
Moon loops conflate with wispy vowels
pride is a cornerstone of identity
egos hold a shield of protection
love embraces all they cherish
paired potency, pelt a pound planet.
Akin to operas, rehearsed by singers
their spoof spirals higher in stride
a syzygy of stars in a mellifluous oasis
nurturing nemesis crystals
soar in silky, springy ischemic swings
fetching felicity, as flurry fades
Ignore impulses, let time slip away
still in grip of quintessential propinquity
over a pyre, rainbow Ink swirls
with ethereal wingless, sanguine sighs,
sumptuous zeal stirs the lifeless,
springtide serenades sibyllic sweeps.
As wisteria, spring sequoia, and love slay
weave an aura in vow threads
once serendipity embraces karma
Scarlet moons bleed in a plum sky
still, sustains its sonorous scintilla
at the zenith of wistfulness, uncover bliss
loving endures the rumblings of thunder
hope in its darkest night, never fades
smoothly drifting on brisk wing beats
love is a fruit of tangerine tenacity
love lullaby ignited by stark infatuation.
‘Forever’ drops through the cracks of time.
The everlasting is a way of saying never-lasting.
We had to change its meaning
for the sake of the children
for those who need nursery rhymes,
and the nursery rhymes are too deep
for the children to comprehend.
The ‘children’ are ancient, ageless,
they live on
in the collective unconsciousness.
So we make-up words that mean
the opposite of their true meaning.
'Love' for instance,
love does not mean love something
or anything. Love objectified
outside of you is a mirage.
If you add forever to the word ‘love’
you conflate an idea with a reality.
When you have something to give,
then you can give.
Without this self-loving
you have nothing to offer.
You can only truly love yourself.
Without this understanding
love becomes for-never.
Some say words are powerful
yes and no –
for unless you know the root of a word
you will not know the truth of a word.
Written: November 05, 2023
________________________________________
Amidst spotless linen rosebuds
I observe you blazing a fire
In the core of a volcano's lair
slithering
glissading
laughing
Queen of the Sun,
Queen of Earth
angels shielding you with their wings
to quench one's thirst
for my vital breath.
A warm deluge of your embrace,
sets my skin into full bloom-
a mellifluous anemone aroma,
and marigold of whimsey bloom
wandering to my cynosure edge
the scorching primeval route;
you leave lush roots for our offspring
to nurture demesne orchards.
On the sands of your sunken tracks,
where conflate ponds
xerox the gleam of fire;
and trees widen limbs,
to embosom
sapphire sky for spring
and descry a year's cornucopia,
of succulent, velvety fruit.
Written: November 23, 2023
__________________________________________
Countless years, continue to construe conflict.
My task is to tote testimony of how to commit.
Neither malice nor misery can steal my life.
I'll store them so I can nail down the strife
None could ever havoc my soul's ebullience
Unspoiled by any sort of conflict or resilience.
Behave snidely—skip all attempts to cure me.
Am I a raging strain—unpredictable calamity?
Has it huddled your heart to halt our harsh tie?
Let us liven up in lavish livery—lilt a lullaby.
Since our recent zeal, our devotion will never fail.
My faith is true, but my imbrication won't frail.
Lunar cycles are an ethereal occurrence.
Soul and zest conflate by elixir convergence.
The bounty that our love proved every time
Loaded with kindness, life is pure and sublime
Under the summer sun, doves coo and call.
Romance, fresh spring tides, a cool air fall
From on high, magnificently raised upward
Clouds are fresh—grant a high moral reward.
Glance at the sun as if it were a gust of wind.
There was a glow emanating from your bind.
Let us persevere through this anxious hurdle.
My anguish has now laid into an ember circle.
I grew on your zeal and will never grow tired of it.
It's still what I truly desire but in a cynosure way.
Despite the height, affection will never be split.
With a bond between us that will never decay
There is a diaphanous spot as love grows swiftly.
Once only dreamed on, amid spiritual guidance.
My love has not faded; rather, it has grown fitly.
You are caught in the midst of a mighty alliance.
Written: February 25, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A sun sets in the west; oh, boy, he has gone to rest,
Mama grips her breast in an apocalyptic pain quest.
Each diaphanous creature feeds on crimson land,
Grass on city streets—an effusive sight as we stand.
After the juice ran out, the town turned silent,
Silence, a somber speech—no swoon is violent.
Yet, something has splashed up on the beach,
A man who is still alive but too flabby to reach.
After millennia, a desultory one can fathom,
The chimera, an epiphany of root phantom.
Humanity perished—ephemeral rapt by the void,
Lambent nature likes a vacuum, such a devoid.
Earth purged, and no desuetude of amort era,
Ideal and dwarf beings graze on reddish terra.
Lawns on sidewalks are an emollient reminder,
A vibrant town, now conflate on a flow grinder.
Washed up ashore, just a transient figure,
In a post-man scene—an evanescent creature.
His arrival bestows a nostalgic gaze on the past,
A calyx relic from a world that couldn't last.
The town remains quiet—a haunting hush,
As nature reclaims what was once lush.
But a man on shore is a relic of our fate,
A transient being left to contemplate.
In a post-man script, beshrew a world once alive,
But now, it's just a memory, a fading strive.
The man on the beach, a symbol of our demise,
He gazes at the sky with weary eyes.
Apocalyptic distress engulfs us all,
As we witness the closing, the final fall.
But amidst the chaos, a sparkle of hope,
In the transient nature of humanity's scope.
Grass that grows on city streets is a resilient sign,
Cynosure nature prevails, even in mankind's decline.
Cities may be quiet, but echoes of our past remain,
Whispers of the wind and the rhythm of the rain.
Political Unrest
Written: by Tom Wright
2-20-2020
On a stage in Vegas for the latest debate,
Stood Democratic combatants, two less than eight.
On stage to get our vote and hopefully donate,
Them devouring each other tended to frustrate.
Because political hearts harbor so much hate,
Each time someone spoke the remainder would berate.
To each others ideas none seemed to relate,
My mouth became dry and I had need to hydrate.
I didn't see it all because the hour had grown late,
But capitalism and socialism won't conflate.
The lesser of two evils will be on our plate,
Before voting time arrives, pray and contemplate.
I’ll lay party aside and vote for the person who
matches up closest to God’s word.
Tom
MELIORISM
This world stings like the scorpion,
And I will not filter in her tears,
This I said because I’m a champion,
Only throwing jabs, it really wears!
Like the faeces of a chameleon,
She stinks in her odourless sheers,
Truly this world bites in oblivion.
And never to be seen in klaipeda _
The elysian sky has deceived me,
Leaving behind their propaganda;
This dark ominous mangles me...
The tenet of retronym in obscurity,
Why we can walk without security.
The quell for fairness may wither,
As we skulk in together!
The gargoyle mole of pains...
Hardship is loose and unfettered;
As we wallow in this sane oneiric,
That never sought for the kindred,
Of conflate moth of harangue...
The axiomatic mild of the youths,
The automatic bunkum in heroism,
The cosplay to this hilarious pains,
The syringe to my bitter whinge.
To saudade for the shadows of life,
A vain wait for meliorism!
When will it get back bitterly better?
Plus Or Minus
Is it a strength
or a weakness
not to know
when it’s over
Is it positive
or negative
the result
— zero sum
(Dreamsleep: July, 2026)
Divinity’s Harvest
The mills of God
grind slowly
The grist of
— Heaven’s delight
(Dreamsleep: July, 2026)
Springing Forth
Leaving the last
of our verses unfinished
With lines unwritten
for others to plead
A poem of hope
springs forth from the shadows
Where statements are doubted
— and wonder believed
(Dreamsleep: July, 2026)
Waiting For The Wind
Sails
unhoisted
Folded
they wait
For wind
to unfurl them
As horizons
— conflate
(Dreamsleep: July, 2026)
Rushing Past
Placing
a period on time
And a stop sign
on creation
We dally in place
— spitting into the wind
(Dreamsleep: July, 2026)
New Voices
Itinerant
air
Sacred in its
wandering
Searching for
new voices
Divorced
— from the wind
(Mariahan Memories: July, 2026)
Why & Where
We are here
who knows why
And we go
— who knows whither
(Dreamsleep: July, 2026)
Conflagrations of Contemplation
Elemental exaltations for refined explanations
Permeatations of conflagrations that seek to define progressive nations
Illuminations of consecrations that have me seeking contemplation
Acclimatisation toward configurations that have been building a new space station
Fusions of finite resources to be plundering
Contusions of insight and sources to be pondering
Infusions of delight without remorse to be wondering
Confusions of contrite concourse to be sundering
I can see the echoes of loss and grief inside your eyes
I’d set you free if it weren’t so painful to watch you cry
But then who would relieve me from the tears accumulating in my eyes
As I watch you smile above it all and attune in your disguise
Postulations on productive thought and ethical considerations
Aberrations of reductive sport that leaves you in commiserations
Attestations that they can be bought in these times of sellout consternations
Distillations that leave me over wrought with latent contemplations
Fundamental Answers cannot be found through statements designed to obfuscate
Experimental philosophical dancers design the concepts to debate
Compartmental insinuations that are defined to constantly conflate
Transcendental notions that are refined to expansively illuminate
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz