Long Debated Poems
Long Debated Poems. Below are the most popular long Debated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Debated poems by poem length and keyword.
Gathering in one spot cover then and withdraw from the lands
Canto COUNTING
Continues…..
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………………………………………………………………………next chapter…..
Now day six brings us to the creation of land animals and finally humans yes but uh this is where I think things go
2:53
2 minutes, 53 seconds
beyond just a quinological account okay what's your take on the significance of humans being created in the image of God
3:02
3 minutes, 2 seconds
as stated in this is where we move from a simple creation story to a profound philosophical
3:09
3 minutes, 9 seconds
concept yeah the phrase in the image of God has been debated for centuries but what's clear is that it elevates
3:18
3 minutes, 18 seconds
yeah Humanity's position within creation right it implies a unique connection to the Divine suggesting that we possess
3:27
3 minutes, 27 seconds
right of God's Essence so it's not just about physical resemblance but about something deeper like our capacity for
3:34
3 minutes, 34 seconds
reason creativity or perhaps even love exactly yeah it suggests that we're not just another species right but uh are
3:43
3 minutes, 43 seconds
imbued with a spark of the Divine setting us apart from the rest of creation and this idea of being in the image of God right directly connects to
3:52
3 minutes, 52 seconds
the next big concept dominion and stewardship verse 28 of the Ethiopian Bible states that humans or to rule over
4:01
4 minutes, 1 second
creation mhm yeah this is where interpretations can get absolutely really interesting what didn't you say
4:08
4 minutes, 8 seconds
absolutely it's a statement that has been used to justify both exploitation and responsible care for the environment
NOT VOID CONTINUE SO...
9/3/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
The truth is always a lie
In the face of reality
It is a fragile matter of futility
In a word
Both grow side by side like mushrooms
Sound the same if given the right name
Heard only by one person soon to be announced
Soon enough
Her name is Mary
Known only to herself and others
The truth stands solid against illusionist
Conjured up in prestidigitation’s magic
Other stuff too, too difficult to allude to
Insinuate or mention in this passage
But lets get back to Mary
She has the answers…really…. with perfect clarity
Certainty is a certain part of truth
But a fraction of that, which is a lie, resides
The lie is a factual tale saved in its place
Kept in a lock box out of harms way
Along side the lie lays truth
They make a perfect couple
An unholy alliance of each other
Guess who has the key in case it matters
Mary started the first fire
Invented it along with all other things
(Except the internet...that was Al Gore....He thinks...)
She created the fire of enlightenment
Sticks her hand in it as proof
It does not burn according to her matches
They stand witness to her youth and beauty
And never strike before the covers closed
Friends confront her with the truth
Fire hurts
She laughs at their insanity
Calls them liars, immature
Sanity is on her side with truth and lies
Locked up in that compact box
Fermenting like mushrooms together
She brings them out for drinking exercises late
Exchanging telephone numbers, identities
Intellectual ideas are then debated
Interchangeable in their nature and meaning
They get drunk and stay together
Determined to win they fall asleep
Mary Wakes up with truth and lies in bed
Hung over, they both look the same to her
She questions, “Do I know your names?”
“Have you heard a word I've said?”
The sound of Leather on hardwood
Classics, jerseys and sneakers on floor.
These instruments accompany the
Chorus of fans and haters
In unison they roar.
Deftly we move, we manouver
You can call it a dance
With a wish
A common goal,
A spheroid of gold,
This bomb explodes with a swish!
This dance we've created
Mastered, debated
We're pumped
We're inflated with pride
You've seen how we roll
Got that gift of control
And as Ballaz we stroll
This stride.
We divide and we conquer
We detect the undetected
The master strategy
We expect the unexpected
Deviously we play
No one tells us how we do
I'll have ya bodies movin'
By the time that I'm through
You may think this poem is tight
May think this poem is lame
But one thing you haven't listened to
Is the song of the GAME.
(Heavy Trap Soul Beat Drops - 808s Deep, Melodic Synth Pads, Snare Rolls)
(Verse 1) Yo, uh, stepped in this , drippin' like Poseidon Neck froze, wrist froze, yeah, my diamonds speak volumes, no lyin' They see the glow up, thinkin' fortunes just fallin' But they ain't see the trenches where the hunger was callin' Now I'm Wall Street slick, with P-Valley in my stride Old money, new money, now money hard, yeah, that's the vibe.
(Verse 2) Used to scrape the plate, now I'm stackin' up the blue strips es used to curve, now they sendin' nude pics Remember ramen nights, now it's lobster tail dinners Watchin' cash grow, in 2024, market winners Eight hundred billion, that's the talk on these streets Old money, new money, now money hard, can't be beat.
(Verse 3) Got that savage flow, 21 in my demeanor Ice cold heart, makin' bread, yeah, I'm a earner They hate to see a chick rise, from nothin' to somethin' tried to check my crown, told her, "Keep on frontin'" This ain't no fairytale, this the real grit and grime Old money, new money, now money hard, all the time.
(Verse 4) Yeah, I move like a don, every step calculated Bentley truck swervin', while these haters just debated How I flipped the script, made somethin' out of zero Now they whisperin' my name, call me neighborhood hero But I ain't savin' none these clowns, they can stay behind Old money, new money, now money hard, peace of mind.
(Verse 5) Cardi B body, yeah, the sex appeal lethal Got these niggas hypnotized, wallets gettin' feeble Diamonds on my body, shinin', blindin' every eye Got 'em mesmerized, thinkin' they can buy my time But loyalty and respect, that's the currency I crave Old money, new money, now money hard, own the wave.
(Outro) Uh, yeah, this that boss anthem, for the grinders, for the hustlers From the bottom to the top, we turned into money monsters They call it luck, we call it grind, dedication, no sleep Now we countin' stacks, while they barley make ends meet Remember the name, , etched in gold, never fade Old money, new money, now money hard, we gettin' paid.
(Beat fades out with ad-libs: Yeah, uh huh, Cheeze, Bardi, 21 Savage flow, get that money, gone!)
O Council of marble halls and hollow oaths, the world is asking: whom do you save? Are you not but a lion, toothless and tamed, pretending to defend the pride, while the hyenas feast in your shadow?
We have seen your silence dressed in law: in Baghdad’s burning, in Tripoli’s ruins, in the shattered homes of Gaza. Your chambers echoed with speeches, but your gavel struck only air. The powerful spoke, and you bowed, their crimes baptized with your silence.
If peace was truly your crown, would children lie unburied beneath collapsed stone? Would nations bleed while you debated the price of their agony? Nay—your throne is not of justice, but of compromise with evil. You are not a council, but a marketplace where the rich purchase the right to destroy.
Tell me, O guardians of nothing, is sovereignty now for sale? Is humanity a currency, traded in the corridors of New York? Your veto is not a shield— it is a dagger, plunged into the hearts of the weak.
O nations of the Global South, how long will you kneel before ghosts? How long will you believe that justice will be delivered from the same hand that shackles you? Withdraw, break the chains of illusion. Build a covenant not of domination, but of dignity— a true assembly of mankind, born not from the ashes of empire, but from the fire of justice.
For the world does not need a toothless lion roaring for show. The world needs a sword of light, a covenant of equals, where no child’s blood is deemed cheap, and no nation’s grief is buried beneath vetoes.
The Security Council has spoken in silence, and its silence condemns it. Its stage is set, its mask unveiled— not a guardian, but a conspirator.
And so the question remains, echoing through broken streets and ruined skies: Whom do you save?
But hear this prophecy— your empire of glass shall shatter, your halls shall echo with dust, and a new covenant shall rise from your ruin. For the lion without teeth shall be devoured by the very prey it failed to defend.
History will not forgive you. And tomorrow, the world will move on without you.
"Poetry is thin, with dark eyes and a hollow face that echoes all the time without distinction. The distinction lies in her breasts that are full of beat under her vague dress that changes colours according to the statements.
She never fails, grows old or dies but simply moves to the next place when it is time to move, to slap, to love, to incorporate the unspoken before it fades away unrecognized."
(Miranda Cambanis)
"The Unspoken Army"
it came to me this life,
I did not ask for it,
I was pushed out, not wanting the revisit at all,
one iota
as if in a dream the blinds once drawn were slowly sliding wide open; framed,
through doors to a foreign world where no one spoke my language, the light a bitter potion -
nor sensed the feels of me, the unseeing, deaf to this bleeding open wound that spoke of children stolen;
and all the stage my world turned its sunny back on me;
eyes to the ground their feet shuffled like poetic shackled legions leading towards the unleading,
best to follow the masters they could clearly see and listen like soulless puppets, vacuous and easy,
manouvred senselessly into agreement, contracting the poisonous words trusting falsehoods reverently;
faith had diminished, drowned in faithless cups of erstwhile parish tea,
the conversation took turns ripping to shreds the core of what was left of me, muted,
“...another piece of this delicious dark fruit cake dear?” this suggested patronisingly,
I shook my head sincerely, without saying one word, I smiled thin and grimly
inside my mind was forming a different kind of unspoken army,
leagues beyond the server, somewhere under my drowned sea
the bends were kicking in, it was debated would I make it to the surface
before oxygen took over the blood and water of me;
such unwanted urgency.
Candide Diderot. ‘25
"(Dancing around a shooting star)
(And every cell remembers what has taken us this far)
Feed me sunlight, feed me air
(I see images of killer whales)
Feed me truth and feed me prayers
(Sleeping in a desert trail)
(Dreaming of a parallel world where nothing ever hurts)
(Dreaming of a parallel world where nothing ever hurts)".
Take solace in just the knowing
The Glory of God in you is now showing
And my how you have since grown
Now tendering the crop that you have sown
Search to know each reason and as to why
And give some good old hard prayer another try
So as you do this each and every day
You'll start to know the Words that Jesus would say
Though His Salvation is so extremely underestimated
So many geniuses for so many years have continually debated
But our Salvation comes only through God's Sacrifice
And our sin had a terrible, terrible price
But the time is now while you are here
To joyfully sing His praises loud and clear
So no matter what may come upon your day
You will just thank God for His Glorious Way
Ali Khamenei,
a Shia cleric
and the Supreme Leader
of Iran.
Today,
many in Iran
weep for your passing.
To many,
you were a symbol
of conviction
in difficult times.
To others,
your legacy
remains deeply debated.
You lived
through years
of conflict,
sanctions,
and uncertainty.
The storms of history
followed your footsteps.
The Middle East
bore witness
to war,
loss,
and generations
searching for peace.
Supporters remember
your steadfastness.
Critics remember
your decisions.
History
will continue
to examine
both.
Leadership
is never carried
without burden.
Power
is never remembered
without consequence.
Today,
a chapter closes.
Tomorrow,
history will decide
how your life
is understood.
May those
who mourn
find comfort.
And may the future
bring wisdom,
justice,
and lasting peace
to the people
of Iran
and the Middle East.
Rest in peace,
Ali Khamenei .
An ode to love
Yet my faith
shuns the observance
of. Valentines Day
Man knows not that
he is loved until married
MIGHT those in verse of
such things argue
Ones foes might wish to
lore a prespective lover
away
Only to be laughed at behind
Ones back
when your words are used as
script of coupling might then
You'll understand
when the situation is mostly debated
and the askments to marry give way to
the allowancments of sabotage
all whilst friends and family watches
and refuse to speak it to thee
Only a fool allows romance to tell the
story.
________________________________________________
Airfried pigeons in a with a oyster sauce
and teriyaki sauce
Paresean cream noodle
Steamed broccoli
Browie with Cherries and Carmel wrapped in maripan
I wish not to disturb your mind
I am undone and not finish. When such should
Have been said we are undone and are unfinished
might this began our togetherness.
Written by
A Bassoonist
From love Observations
In a strong marriage, a long marriage
much cannot be said, should not be said.
The spots on one's skin will be wisely ignored.
Differences of opinion are tolerated, not debated.
Your memories may disappoint your partner
as not those she has selected, refracted.
Over dinner for two at the Mill on the Floss
it could be dangerous to compare wills, losses.
Or it might result in belly laughs, Shakespearean
revelations, the night he got us lost in the woods
or she peed her pants at a party. The marriage was Faustian,
in a good way, like going to a job in the Garden of Eden.
Having survived 25 years, knowing 50's impossible,
what else do we know? Raised 2 boys, painted 3 houses.