Long Context Poems
Long Context Poems. Below are the most popular long Context by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Context poems by poem length and keyword.
I sit
and watch
while
the others
struggle
with feelings
I can't
relate to
while having
gratitude
for my
inner zen
and
hoping
they can
find a
true
friend.
Note: Inspired by a prompt from Threads user reevesandroses. The prompt given was: "Write a poem or piece inspired by hardship." So I decided to write about what I see when observing communities I'm not part of, and how the in-group excludes someone with similarities to me on purpose. It's often the case that the person being excluded is neurodivergent. "Inner zen" in this context refers to the lack of anxiety felt on my end, due to me not allowing myself to blindly follow along with group think.
Night after night, images flicker on the tube
Horrific images of ‘the enemy’ dying
Dying ‘Agent-Orange’ deaths
~ Seems America can do no right…
Night after night, images darken the screen
Palestinian women and children
Starving, dying in droves obscene
~ Seems Israel can do no right…
Night after night, viewing the horror of war
Provide no context for what came before
No videos of Communist Vietnam’s brutality
No memory of Israelis burned and butchered, October 7 fatalities…
Watching a steady stream of ‘enemy’ deaths
Viewers become exhausted, out of breath
Gradually they identify with the foe
Cheering on Ho, (Ho, Ho Chi Minh)
Jeering at Bibi and (Genocide) Joe
‘Truth’ is only on the screen, or so it seems
~ History projects a wider beam
Every morning, I open my eyes, and I wonder at my surroundings.
Before any constructive thoughts, chaos comes raging as waves, crashing through my mind.
Crowds speak in unison, yet, against the grains in the sands of time.
Past memories that may be false, as they feel like they belong to someone else, and scenario’s that never will be;
confusion that paralyzes rationality and lost moments recollected out of context;
sudden realization of needed self preservation and implosive, internal destruction bursts like a supernova;
emotions on the tipping point of control, spiral into a death dive - as a predator hunt’s it’s meal, so too do they threaten to devour the entirety of my being.
Realization, that the wandering moments of yesterday, standing deep in a dense fog, are all but lost if not chased; propelling a desire of recollection.
The crowd of voices become amplified, as if to reverberate through an empty chamber.
A funny joke, a terrifying laugh from a seemingly simple weatherman, the bark of a cat and sounds of a drowning fish; an argument settled after a battle in a lost war.
Instructions whispered in urgency…I am almost there.
There are a plethora of directions, end points of accomplishment. Success at a task generates only, yet another task, complicit to procrastination in understanding the numbness.
Compelled to breathe, my own words break free of their restraints and I am convinced to search.
Awe….the blanket is red, the door is closed and the shades are open. There, a written reminder, a preset notification, so to speak…drawn by the hand of a stranger, it expels any worries that I shouldn’t be where I am.
An over-spilling riverbank of realization supersedes the chaos and I am able to sort the broken pieces.
Sometimes I can reassemble them, most times they are rebuilt by someone else, repurposed and perhaps handed down, as if generational.
Truth begins it’s treacherous journey into my heart and let’s my mind stray, as it organizes what must be done to move forward, the triggers of the moment, deciding the fate of my day.
By mystic river's waters,
Shielding mountains, illuminating sun,
With clear jade, embrace unintentional mistakes.
Within five kowtow, seeking heavenly
Kindness beneath.
Just like this, Fuqin kowtow five times to,
'Mountain outside the family' and 'Dragon king'
To embrace the 'iron flower', protect her
And let drop of water washes away the mistake.
~Byeol
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Fuqin: father
Mountain outside family: in-laws
Dragon King: daughter husband
Iron flower: daughter
Let drop of water washes away mistake: forgive unintentional mistakes
Explanation: this poem highlights the cultural and historical context of many Asian countries
Where in-laws family are revered as equivalent to or given as much respect like dieties.
Just as people bow 5 time to river, mountain and sun to seek protection and forgiveness for unintentional mistakes,the father bows 5 time to in-laws and husband. This gesture show the immense respect required of bride family towards groom family in historic times.
Is there anything so excruciatingly exhausting
As to feel the need to look at everything
Through judgmental eyes
No background or context
Barely half the info
Yet so quick to jump to conclusions
Always quick to pass judgment
As if holding all the cards and criteria
Seeking perfection everywhere
How arrogant and pretentious
Like trying to wear God’s hat
I once said the worst thing
I could imagine was to see
Someone imprisoned for a crime
They did not commit
Am I so stupid to not realize
I am guilty everyday of doing
Exactly that in a million little ways
Over and over again
Of doing the worst crime I have imagined
That I am judging and sentencing
Without hearing all facts…
And even if I did hear all the facts
Who died and made me almighty judge?
And anyway…
What’s with this overwhelming urge
Needing to quickly evaluate and judge
Possibly born of some caveman instinct
To protect oneself from imminent dangers
If so, it’s way beyond that and outdated
Not only ineffective but destructive
Become much the enemy within
Blackening my heart with every cynical thought
Separating me from everything that surrounds
Isolating me empty of compassion or empathy
Whatever happened to a little bit of humility
And admitting that none of it concerns me
It is what it is good bad or indifferent
God just called
He wants his hat back
AP: 3rd place 2020
kisses.
feel them
the tension and aliveness
they’re loaded with psychology and social context
its an intense observation
mouths connect our inner and outer worlds
they cross the exterior-interior divide
they’re simple forms of passion and expression
but they’re drastic and emphatic
I wrestle with wildness
I desire less breathing room, less layering
I riot with instinctive response
I long to obliterate feminine’ restraint
and share inner experience
.
.
A song for this:
Drive Me Crazy by The SoCal VoCals
Fly Into Your Arms (a cappella) by X-Cetra
Nothing Can Stop Us by Saint Etienne
I don’t know how to begin this poem
But I love the way I wrote about you,
It’s amazing and it’s true
Putting so much effort into this,
If I could fly an emoji’s kiss..
Your eyes and smile’s gleaming back at the mirror selfing,
Made my day and wish I could warm your heart
I’ll be glad even if it’s miles apart
Dang boy! How could I resists you?
Your four letter name lingers my boo
You taught me so many things
Like having a mojito in a drink
Favorably, needed that song
I know you know this girl doesn’t read context
Isn’t funny how these words are so poetic
Imagine having someone to listen
With a poke of give me your everything
Now smooth like I am always ready even if I am half dead..
My tanned skin and your favor bliss
Feels the same I vowed long enough for my viking
Tis you and I vibe together
Like you are my master I ain’t pleases another..
In Ulzana's Raid,
the Native- and European-American concepts of property ownership
and rights
are incompatible and irresolvable. McIntosh
had no illusions about that. He said hating Apaches for killing whites
is like hating the desert for having no water.
I suspect the movie's not a good source of anthropological data
and overlooks the commonalities among human communities
to focus on just a few bold characters
as all art must.
I consider McIntosh fortunate
to have died commensurate with the way he lived his life,
rolling a final cigarette, nothing between him and the desert,
and no gravediggers waiting, jesting, defecating. Also,
he is lucky to have had one last, dispassionate friend
to whom there is nothing left to say, the Chiracahua tracker
Kah-ti-nay.
Last night's performance of Beauty and the Beast
may have been the most victorious, ecstatic, cohesive
moment in our little school's history. Emily was Beauty, a filament of
energy
who doesn't like to be touched and has been known to punch
boys hard. She had memorized her lines until she was hardly
Emily but only Beauty in a blue dress unselfconsciously
hiking up her tights between the Beast's advances.
Is this done in every American town and the world
over so there's no need to feel lost or lonely
ever?
There is no context for a man
outside the platoon or raiding party, home or shop.
When violence comes to the neighborhood,
the hierarchy of communicants will hold or fold
it is then the peace work proves relevant. I noticed McIntosh,
grizzled as he was, accepted the given hierarchy, a raw lieutenant's
orders,
as he did the desert and Apaches, with a shrug and foreknowledge
of the outcome.
If there's anywhere with no Emily or Beauty
we should bring them such blessings at the point of a
gun. But there is no place without Emily, not
the least-known prison in deepest space as long
as we do not hate or hurt or shun
the Beast.
The media assaulted Donald Trump.
They made him seem unfit.
They passed him off as their despair
portraying him as twit.
They took him out of context
though not at all on purpose.
They'd closed their minds to wisdom
in any kind of surplus.
Then chose a side to bad mouth
with Hillary to support.
The News no more reporting
as they would all cohort.
The people getting angry.
The Americans wise for Trump.
The Press just getting more detached
for disappointing slump.
The polls to favor Hillary.
The Press would broadcast lies.
Condemning Trump as unapproved
to shame the people wise.
A vote for each American,
their election came to them.
The election starting quickly for
the Clinton favored femme.
The News going on endorsing her.
some fearing Trump was lost.
The women's egos so damn high
that Hillary's eyes had frost.
When finally came the turn-around
that Donald soon would gain.
The world came calling for The Trump
and Hillary cried in vain.
Full shock had neadered to the Press.
Their ignorance shown galore.
The people out of reach with them
all shocked to see their horror.
The message should you want to know.
To never trust the Press.
Refusing all their certainty
to keep the truth from less.
And now you know the politically correct.
The path the world's taking.
Important people closing minds
to steer the world to shaking.
______________________________
These crown of sonnets on consequences of global warning reflecting on the recent calamities on Tibet-Nepal Himalayan border is a three-part trilogy that mirrors a dynamic arc:
.The first sonnet is the Thesis (the problem),
.The second, the Antithesis (the reaction/chaos),
.And the third, Synthesis (the resolution).
Thus, in the context of our subject matter, the first sonnet describes the crisis: global paradox on warming and nature’s warning; the second, human exploitation; and the third completing the trilogy, on resolution and wisdom for future.
_________________________
Though man has lived behind a fenced frontier,
He thrives beneath a single common sky
And shares the breath of one vast atmosphere
Framed by a frail ecosystem's pooled pie.
But blind to rising peril, man will stay
Whenever floods unleash a massive dread
To tackle rising tide a frantic way,
Unmindful to what warning skies have said.
The irony: the one who suffers most
Is green Nepal, though cleanest of the lot---
A global paradox that’s quickly lost,
The moral warning seldom getting caught:
For, nature sneers at borders man decrees,
Be they the moving air or frozen seas.
____________________________
Happenings | 18.09.2026 | ecology/environment, irony, nature, paradox, crown of sonnets