Long Contingencies Poems

Long Contingencies Poems. Below are the most popular long Contingencies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Contingencies poems by poem length and keyword.


There Is a Gravity To You

there is a gravity to you
whenever crossing the room
it is an existence that bends light
into an aura capturing my every breath 
a plasma that penetrates every atom within
with memories of long ago
when you first walked into my life
from across the room
as you drew near me
my heart counted every step forward
lost in erratic rhythms as they lifted
and returned to Earth 
in that face a beauty
causing a full moon to glance
and pause in envy
lips possessing a kittenish smile
driven like a bee to pollen
a promise of being crushed by roses
born from Athenia's brood
and in your eyes a dominion
from which i would be forever held
in John Donne's Ecstasy
these passing years
i still tug on the pigtails
to remind the playground
how much i adore you
just an average man
who stumbled into the arms
of the above average
and careened into eternity

now there will be those of you
quickly to point out
surely there are far too many flowers
packed lovingly in this bouquet
i said average, not stoopid
you take the bolt of cloth down
measure three to four-times
twice and cut is for mechanical thinkers
love has never been a well-oiled machine
a bit more for unexpected contingencies
roll the bolt of cloth more than a tad
in life, one never knows
the lady may have just discovered
she now adores puffed sleeves
i said average, not stoopid
and the lesson i learned from Mr. Darcy
when you open your mouth
let the brain stay idle in speech
and let your heart sing
to the soul, she has in her eyes
therein the permission you seek nests
only the heart can free those wings
and there are never too many flowers
in a bouquet, or a tad more of cloth
be prepared the scouts' teaching
fashion with women are like the seasons
guaranteed to change
did not John Donne ask his love
not to stare into the sun
lest she blinds it
above average, also, not stoopid


OKC   2/14/22

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love .” William Shakespeare, Hamlet

"But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity."
Sonnet 14   If Thou Must Love Me
Elizabeth Barrett Browning


A Life of Almosts

She's lived a lot of "almosts"

She almost drowned under the pulsing weight 
of the river's temperamental waters when she was 12

Later on, she felt time itself suspend as she spent 
her last few seconds wondering if death would
take her quickly, while her car spiraled down the I-50, 
barreling off the ice-ridden road at a deadly 80 mph 
into a ditch.
But it didn't

She could have died riding top speed into the back of 
a jeep, but walked away from it, granted it took her memory

Deep into the sweltering heat of the desert, 
she nearly escaped the strike of an infant rattlesnake,
and walked away, unharmed, after slipping off
the beautiful sandy red rockscape 

In spite of all these "almosts"
the most dangerous time of her life
was when the escape of sleep continuously escaped her,
and her body could no longer regulate its own temperature,
among several other things,
including hunger, so she didn't eat a single thing for months
while the tube down her pencil-thin throat continuously
fed her, forever, it seemed, since none of the doctors
could tell her what was wrong.
That was the worst of all - not knowing - 
and the most dangerous of all
because it left room for possibilities, probabilities
and contingencies that only proved to be mere fantasies

Over and over
  Over and over
    Over and overrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

And over

A cycle which holds space for only one capacity - insanity.
Indeed, the most dangerous "almost" of her life was when
hope not merely left her, but became her enemy,
and her dreams of not only finding relief, but of coming
to an understanding of the reality that was haunting her
slowly fermented into a continual round of "almosts" 
and, finally, in the madness, one round almost hit her
when she almost took her life.
That was almost the last "almost" of her life

These days she continues to daydream of finding answers,
and reaching a full recovery
as she learns how to wrestle with the desperately fickle
personality of uncertainty and "almosts"
Form: Narrative

Powers

(On May 1 1960, at the very depth of the
Cold War, CIA pilot Gary Powers was shot
down over the central USSR.  Here we are
imagining his conversation with a charge
d'affaires of the US Embassy.  Powers
is threatening to go public on CIA 
mismanagement and to tell all to the
Russians - the Igors and the Borises.
Powers died soon afterwards in a
helicopter crash.)

What's Thompson's game? He's sent a charge here?
He should have come himself. So, Mister Jinks,
I'm going to assume you're with the firm.
Tell you what happened? Why don't you tell me?
Okay, I didn't trash the Thunderbird -
but I was kinda busy, get my drift?
My face was pulling g's to beat the band
and if you knew the vehicle, you'd know
the seat ejects like bats fly outta hell -
explosive bolts. I'm falling vertically,
and spinning like a top, and if I get
alignments wrong by half an inch,
the console cuts my legs off when I spring.
So what? So this. I had things on my mind.
You want your secrets kept? So train us right.
Foresee contingencies.
                                           The silver buck?
I chucked it. Threw it, as the chute came down,
but kept the pin. The Igors have it now.
Well fella, you got questions and to spare,
and I don't like the way they're shaping up.
Oh sure, you got your job to do. Me too,
remember? I'm the guy who got his ass
shot out the sky at sixty thousand feet!
I didn't buy the farm. Is that a sin?
Tell Langley I'm an Amish - what the hell?
I told them it's curare.
                                        Get real, pal!
They may be Borises, but I won't have
some guy get stiffed because he pricked his thumb.
They'd find out anyhow. You bet I have!
I got more beefs than Texas. Pin 'em back.
Nobody thought it through, this turkey-shoot,
or what we'd do, dumb Joes like little ol' me
when Igor got us. Unprofessional!
Now bust your ass, and get me outta here.
When I get back, I'm gonna tell the world
how Langley hangs its fly-guys out to dry.
We got a First Amendment. Let 'em try!

Boundlessly Blessed

Blessed beyond words am I
having to somnambulate to lectures
for endless hours every day
and slumber throughout these fixtures
That never-ending piece of work
- due tomorrow - cannot wait
An alteration in which this quirk
becomes a lifestyle in which I slave till late

Aren't I blessed with splinters
of shattered pieces from the windowpane
through which, until repaired, the icy winters
reward me with fierce wind and rain
Just as - could I ever count the gains
of burst pipes or broken timing belts,
when nothing else for me remains
as to observe just how my money melts…

How blessed am I by those arguments
and resentful quotes from siblings,
those wounds of umbrageous comments
and ever-continuous quibblings
How grateful am I for that piercing voice
of a parent shouting out the wishes
which kill the silence, with a noise
that echoes “Wash the dishes!”

Blessed beyond boundaries am I
getting up before the sun starts peeping,
and wandering to church every Sunny day,	
while the world out there remains sleeping

Indeed, boundlessly blessed in disguise
I am educated, I can read, can write
In the mornings I am able to arise
and walk with both my feet to fly my kite…
Even though those scattered splinters lie
I have a home in which I’m safe
I am equipped with wings to fly
with all I need to surf the wave
	
Angels for sisters, superheroes the brothers -
priceless gifts directly from above
I am blessed to have these siblings
that know, understand, still unconditionally love
Not always do I see the privilege
of still having both parents that care
and with loving hearts, being the first image
that for this life, me prepare

Blessed beyond boundaries 
that destinies, contingencies down here
could never be left to happen without 
Him giving His blessing from high up there…
Form: Verse

Number of Man

Number of Man
(Webster’s Ninth)

Money trail reveals factor
To assemble humans follow layout
Swat down charges with linguistic racket
Sticks more effective than carrot dangle
Arguments sustained by pundits' jangle
Beached on shallow force Fed truths we paddle

Pedantic pets get paddle
First world states where offspring are a factor
Searching for meaning results in jangle
Pogroms programmed in digital layout
Preach peace while children from clotheslines dangle
Dichotomy the full courtpress racket

Tax credit skin trade racket
Birth control for those learning to paddle
Tout facts as contexts, like syntax, dangle
Infrastructure to control the factor
Roman Rhodes lead all through latent layout
Deaf ears strain to hear warning bell’s jangle

Legalized fictions jangle
Integration catalyzed by racket
A body of work produced for layout
Leaves us without proverbial paddle
Multiply the lie to find the factor
What tales are told from the yardarm dangle

Join the police state dangle
Riot inciting projection jangle
Plausibility denying factor
The legislative extortion racket
Brings independence beneath the paddle
All contingencies covered by layout

Camp Kapos marked for layout 
Every scapegoat has his day to dangle
No room for slaves who refuse to paddle
Loose lips fill shipping lanes by their jangle
Synthetic avatars fuel our racket
Never ask what long term effects factor

Layout a dialectic to jangle
Dangle clues via distracting racket
Paddle but fail to account for the Factor


© L.K. Hobbs 2018
© Luke Hobbs  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sestina


Every Other Thing

It's odd to realize that ones life is best described experientially, as a series of discoveries in an irreducible phenomenon cast in viscus matrices. 

    "These Days":  The superficial and arbitrary way with which we sever experience and consciousness, yet neither emotionally, nor intellectually, are we cognizant of the ephemeral boundaries.

    Time, as a biological value, carries over into our social constructions, but there, its value ends. That it is "a-prior" is hard to argue with. That it does not extend into the intellectual realm is also too plain to deny. How odd, its ready departure in the face of intellectual or emotional pursuits.

    "These Days"- fraught with time's non-contingencies; The seemingly unrelated images and concepts merging to suggest something more than their singular aspects would allow ~

a broken dream assuaged by the coffee machine's sharp scuttering; a waterless complaint, and her image; no longer the bright charged view, fading in forgetting's white-grace, but content to become instead, the liquid shadows of empty-spaces, where time floats down in dangerous obedience to an undiscoverable gravity, like the broken feathers of a silent, celestial war

Cradle of Life

The days started and life began
The streams took their place and mountains their stand
The trees grew and the grasses squatted,
The shrubs and the mangroves
All took their shape and made life beautiful.

Everything set 
All put in their place.
Nothing was out of order
But made to suit the being that will soon come

Then the decent takes effect
Preparations completed
The stage set
Nothing to work for
As all things have been laid from the cradle of life

He stood there to make all things right
Made the stage ready
Provided for contingencies
And all that will emanate as the days go.

He knows the way
He has been to the destination
And would gladly lead whoever cares to follow him
The needs on the way he will provide
At cold nights his warmth will be sufficient
And when the night comes he will follow you home

He is friendlier than a friend
Cares more than the eyelids to the eyeballs
Secures more than a thousand soldiers would
And loves more than the thoughts could imagine
He has made all things right 
And would gladly give
If you shall seek the source
Form: Pastoral

Premium Member The Work I Do

It is the job that I do why I need to escape, get away and write;
I help companies plan to respond should things go bump in the night.
I am in Crisis Management, preparing valid contingencies;
Writing plans and solutions for recovery strategies.

Should the data center burn down or a hurricane arrive,
I implement solutions making sure the company will survive.
Human safety is job one, critical processes come next;
Preparing solutions ahead of time and putting them down in text.

Responding to disaster; mitigating risks and threats;
Ensuring responders are prepared by facilitating tests.
Meeting with civil authorities, knowing all the laws;
Understanding critical infrastructure and the possible flaws.

Companies must continue to service their customers and clientele
Even if their world around them is crumbling all to hell;
So I help to prepare them to respond to the very worst,
Making sure, of course, that their employees are protected first.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Gulf Oil Spill Tragedy

Nature consists of balances ever so delicate
Eco systems and life hanging on the edge
Man oversteps boundaries in his desire to develop it
Leaving death and destruction in the wake of his dredge.

From deep underneath waters supporting sea life
Oil is pumped to rigs riding on top of the waves
When used, the pollution enough causes much strife
When ruptured, disaster results requiring a save.

We watch from afar as waters turn black
Terns and fish washing up on the shore
A mistake from which we cannot turn back
Oil of destruction continues to pour.

We can curse executives of the big companies
We can find fault with the slow political aim
We can cry, “Where exactly were the contingencies?”
But by allowing it firstly we all are to blame.

The greatest tragedy in life is to experience the pain
But have the lessons learned from it lost
So from this event let’s hope man can gain
The wisdom to be more careful, no matter the cost.
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

Heaven

Heaven is a magical place
A home for all ethereal beings.
A place where the big picture
is finally seen in all its glory.
Heavens beauty is so great that
it cannot be comprehended 
by our earthly minds
A place where all life's questions 
Are answered in detail.
Heaven is where 
you get to reunite with those 
who have passed on, 
and prepare for our next lifetime.
Decisions are made long
before we begin this journey of life.
Friendships are forged, families bonded,
Twin flames become betrothed.
Every detail has been planned
With contingencies 
for every possible outcome.
Oh how I long to hear 
The beauty of the angels voices
Singing in perfect harmony once more.
Our time on this earthly journey
Is just a blink of an eye,
Although at times it feels infinite.
I look forward to the day
When I am reunited 
With my loved ones,
To when I am once again 
surrounded by Heavens pure love.
5/27/2020

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