Long Correlate Poems

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


Premium Member Winds of Change

The solar storms are flaring up;
Charged particles assault the earth.
Plasma distorts magnetic fields;
Effects are felt from Nome to Perth.

A syndrome targets human hearts,
Apparently, the brain as well.
Incredulous, the truth departs
Like dolphins, with a fond farewell.

The correlate, a new vaccine,
Not likely to be causing death.
The flares, more likely, it’s been deemed,
To stop the heart and steal the breath.

And too, the temps are on the rise,
Not flares, good guess, but fossil fuels.
The sun, indignant, they surmise,
Fires bow shots at this ship of fools.

If all will simply buy EVs,
Or better yet, a brand new bike,
The land will heal of this disease,
But mask and boost your little tike.

Do they not know a gaslight burns,
Releasing CO2 on high? 
Although it’s likely they’ll not learn,
The winds of change are drawing nigh.

----------

A somewhat tongue-in-cheek poem based on a silly Twitter post from NewScience (or a parody, who knows anymore) suggesting that the
increased Sudden Adult Death Syndrome is attributed to solar flare
activlty... Remember, everything on the interwebs is true :-)
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain


214: Love Benef-eats Us Out

For the second time, to foresee everything that love commits
It is hard to see, where wrong and boundary correlate.
So burden would not be love; somber is just hard to translate
Unfortunately, it's hard to designate, that it may never be delicate

The first time, thought love transcends mortality and duration
Giving up is the hardest-- to fulfill the adjudication
I am foretold that love is a sacrificial lamb existence, more on
Moron that i could be the way I am treating the situation

Now it is the fourth time; I never heard of the third.
I skipped it, made of traumas like a herd
Shepherd-- me convincing every pieces, even it is blurred
Though, it is hard to find, my glasses broke, everything scattered

Now, I realized, the pattern is so specific
It looks like mentally challenging;horrific.
That, what I just remembered-- munific
What RIvermaya just performed is honorific

Though even I see that, love eats me out
Every love I fought just made my feet seethe with gout
It is for Rivermaya with no doubt
That narrative of genuine love, still works out
© John Carlo  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

This Color Is Mine

Let us dream for better days,
When different colors and different shades
Correlate into a beauty only diversity can show.
Our curls caressing the same wind,
The wind that calls for change.
Change—
Has it happened enough to cushion our pain?
We carry in our bosoms,
In our wombs
Til it grows so big it smothers rooms
Encapsulating our souls,
Til they turn a deep — deep blue.
But we shall rise as the sun shall rise.
And the tides of tears flown down our cheeks,
Fill rivers no man can deny.
We are light with room for every color.
But this color is mine.
A silent shelter passed down like treasure.
We don't cry — we whine.
Our hips grooving and moving the waves of change.
Yearning and churning—
For true change.
Stand with us as one.
In formation.
Hand in hand.
As we sing for equality to finally come.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Tributes

TRIBUTES
overt
 the
 implication
& correlate
with
the
  traditional

 receptive
to
a
 witnessed
 desire

 themes
 at least
in part
 a reaction
to be
 explored

 the intent
 has
 an intrigue premise
 persuasively
 constructed
&
organised
yet hazy
concept
of  inspiration

sans rigour
questioning
or doubt
created
 through
 a complex
&  informed
relationship
of
 obedience
in
 manifested
attitudes

a refusal
to adhere
to
unfashionable
& ascribed
anathema
topically
 perceived

more
 receptive
to
 witnessed
 desire

 themes
 at least
in part
 a reaction
to be
 explored

 the intent
 has
 an intrigue premise
 persuasively
 constructed
&
organised
yet hazy
concept
of  inspiration

sans rigour
questioning
or doubt
created
 through
 a complex
&  informed
relationship
of
 obedience
in
 manifested
attitudes

a refusal
to adhere
to
unfashionable
& ascribed
anathema
topically
 perceived


NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Form: Other

Premium Member Faces

FACES
compelling
 features
ageing
into
 formal components
 of
 continuous interest
an
unplanned
unpremeditated
sequence
 inventive
& revered
to
 capture the soul

 images
a
 testimony
to  mirror
the reflection
 setting
apart
 sidelong
 reactions
to
 correlate
the shifts
between
 frustrations
& irritations
 alongside
the
 learned
verbal
& emotional


NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Form: Other


December's Yalto of Praise

Celebrate
                            the focus is
                               Christmas.
                                   Emmanuel,
                                       God come down to Earth.
                                                         Messiah
                                                         God’s Son
                                                               Correlate
                                                         Savior                                        
                                                         Jesus' birth.
                                         Blessed gift
                                     from our Creator
                                God’s sacrifice for man’s
                             sin.
                        Contemplate Christ’s worth.

December 13, 2022

Hostess    Constance La France
Contest Name	Writing Challenge - Yalto Form
3, 4, 2, 4, 5, 3, 2, 3 ,2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 1, 5 
this yalto was edited slightly after contest was judged b/c I wanted a bit of rhyme with alliteration.
Form: Verse

And Ignoble Prize Trumpeting Hubris Awarded To

And ignoble prize trumpeting hubris awarded to...

Bourgeoisie donning ersatz
overstuffed ego freezer bewigged pate
"FAKE" grotesque humanitarian
bribed corrupt judges will vindicate
jimmied cracked corn
land of "milk and honey"

red hot button he spoils to activate
countdown to Armageddon
leaving nation prostrate,
all the more reason to axe electoral college,
now holds electorate
hostage to bully tactics grate

for dead souls – zombie thriller, viz
Putin on the ritz,
whereby Pavlov's dog will salivate
on cue and pony show will titillate,
and worse case scenario, a far more terrible fate
than death by a thousand cuts

equals his refusal not to abdicate
presidency, should voters
get smart to administrate
White House with progressive commander
in chief he/she will adjudicate
decency, honesty, integrity... and acclimate

government toward amity, comity, equality...
oh,... and most importantly advocate
salutary measures affecting biosphere,
where industrialization didst devastate
contaminate by bajillion beings birthrate,
every square inch of Earth

*****sapiens succeeded to abominate...,
prima facie global warming doth correlate,
hence primary requisite mandate
to reorient modus operandi no time to wait,
where carbon footprint negligible
still preserving technological paradigm

fixing low cussed electricity to generate
courtesy renewable resources
else man/womankind will become footnote
atrophied trappings agglomerate
twenty first century civilization
damned, inundated, ossified bridgegate

checkmated, choked, chucked... wag gone wheels
das spare - tread fully tires fuming primate
jammed fruits of loins going bananas
infuriating, exhausting accelerating
no exit (sorry Sartre) to circumnavigate
hardy lee any recourse to extricate

oneself from madding crowd
self resignation minimally doth alleviate,
whereby impatient broods frustrate
inaccessible jackknifed mobility,
thence spark ignites spontaneous eruption
impossible mission to plug
crowdsource mob frenzy translate

pent up fury once loosed doth degenerate
into atavistic pandemonium cutthroat rage
snarling human logjam foaming at mouth
poised to strike ready to decapitate
any remaining shred of salvation barren feeble
slow vac hoovering, milking, and sucking
every last vestige of bondage peoples extirpate.

Premium Member Aunt Eartha's Winter Interview

What are your most winterish
critical trauma events
in these most recent
three millennia?

Why 
just my traumas?
Why not their corresponsive
therapies
for restoring EarthJustice?

Please go on
and on
questioning my questions
seemingly without end,
like an arctic wind-blown 
starless night
in eternally restless January.

As you say,
and, but for this grand analogy,
you would pay dearly
for your unsprung youth,

Back in pre-colonial daze
of sacred tribal glad,
mostly naked clad
reunions

Fall harvests produced fertile gratitude,
more of a positive
win/win attitude.

In those last warm and golden times
of nature nighttime naivete
some Governor,
a Wise Elder, perhaps

No matter how Patriarchal,
would deep dream
to set defenses against
each sacred Other

Yet pantheistically inclusive Mother Earth
could not feel ripe
or right, apart

Summer fullness
and winter dormant absence
fail to positively correlate
Earth's spirited spring minds
and physical womb-falling bodies
with metaphysical,
sacred bipartisan,
deeply thoughtful
yet hibernating 
frustrated feelings
failing to confluently 
and competently understand

Communicating
and excommunicating
across seasons
and present seas
of sacred vulnerable immigration
integration
creolization,
followed by thoughtfully transparent 
slow-grown emigrant sacred status
rooted in wisdom
and freedom to grow copassions,
not mere freedom from
some other kindless
kingdom

Immigrating/Emigrating EarthTribes
exhaling summer's sway
away
migrating winter's WombDream play
back in to sacred circling
and recycling stay.

Thanks for that,
Aunt Eartha.
Sounds like less of a summery answer
and more of a deep wintering question.

Yes, my dear,
and what does winter taste
and look
and feel like?

Restoring Earth's
not-quite-so-everlasting
seemingly endless 
cold white privilege,

Thawing into
more spring/fall balance,
green/blue global 
hibernating 
matriarchal,
yet apparently dormant,
sacred honed ecologists.

Sorry, Aunt Eartha,
drifting off,
wandering in winter wonder

EcoTherapy, once around again,
regenerating global 
GoldenPlaying Peace

Within this silent wintered star's
bright prolific night.

Contemplate

Contemplate
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire

And did mine mind
wander to places be
on leaving grey mouths
behind back home
now alone ..
still I sit at a lake
in the park 
named consolation
and contemplate ..
watching calm silver water
sliver into small waves.
I am in quiet ponder time
and wonder home.
The lake is noiseless 
inert and filled with placid art
There is bird and tree diverse
in a landscape ornate.
A goose sails the lake
and pass me by 
in a peaceful industry of
water under cloud
it is realistic theatre.
I stare and gaze
where the geese will sail to
and sleep tonite..
In a chance of reeds perhaps

At the lake I start to contemplate
are my little sisters
safe and warm home
do they have a plate to eat ?
a big brother dear
is always wanted near..
I hear their teasing giggles
when those doll faces
saw biscuits they knew
it was christmas
now I teardrop.

honk .. honk ..
the gander
makes a wed call
he is a contender
to mate new life

peace I feel
my strength is real
I see the juice of nature
I appreciate the go life
which God has dispensed
for me..

But far away i am
from state and homeland
in a land foreign and forlorn
I ponder on my imigrate
our jolly brigade 
I correlate home
with mountain moving faith
on courage and hard prayer
I was selected
to leave my local on mission
to send money home
for nourish in my bornland

I crave the games we played
but here sedate I am
I reflect
on my fatherland
though now I live in mercy land
with ocean distance 
and now
I contemplate
going home
here at lake
Consolation.

Premium Member Old Woman

I am the old woman who lives in a shoe
I have so many children telling me what to do
Some are twenty, thirty, forty and fifty too
but to hear them all screaming you'd think they were two
Tattling and fighting, yelling, squawking, all through the night
arguing the same thing over and over until it's daylight
Demanding, exclaiming that they are always right
always blaming the other no matter their plight
Spinning in circles, no resolution to be found
the chaos unfolding just keeps me homebound
Enlarging their problems, keeping others spellbound
They can't seem to focus, it goes round and round
Lying and stealing, and cheating, they all accuse 
The one whose accusing always has an excuse
Pointing the finger at others, a tactic they use
Sick of the tantrums, you become a recluse
They can't see the problem, it's all one big game
to see how much more they can milk from the old dame
They all want control of the shoe, it's so lame
Tying the shoelace is driving me insane
Teaching these children, each eyelet has a price
You can't skip one over, it isn't deemed nice
Each hole you lace through is another bill to be paid
to lace through each one means more money must be made
Thoughts can't be gathered, the frenzy causing delays
Old Mother, those children are too old to relate
That they are responsible for divining their own fate
Promises are broken, they can't really correlate
Old woman's not their mother and wants a clean slate
The banshees are furious, they don't want to pay
No understanding without old woman paving the way
the shoe will soon crumble and to dust, it will fade
So come on spoiled brats, scream your lives away
Yell louder this is a cycle that's hard to escape
The shoe is the prison their own minds did create 
Stop blaming and pay the house a fair rate
Listen before the old woman gets up and runs away
Kick rocks, she tells them now to pay their own way
They scream louder when she turns the other way
Took her for granted, but she was first not second rate
The years fall to the side as she leaves you to your fate
the vision of youth returning will soon resonate
Old Woman kicks her shoes off without delay
Now a young woman, she turns her back and walks away
Form: Rhyme

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