Long Decomposed Poems
Long Decomposed Poems. Below are the most popular long Decomposed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Decomposed poems by poem length and keyword.
Immanent Yet Transcendent 9-29-23
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Immanent Yet Transcendent
Above the plodding, sightless mediocre
A latent embryo breathes,
Awakens the murmurs of the inbred orphic harbinger
Through tangled threads of colorless mesh
Serendipity stirs, sets in motion,
Spirals
Above the weary path of habitual self interest
Clogged with lumbering thistles of numb routine,
Where midnights wrestle with starving angels,
A deafening humdrum drumming cadence
Clumbers in oblivion with trudging boots
Over rusty cauldrons of mediocrity
And dreary depths of decomposed sludge
Fed with blind self-interest.
Yet, the dust of the mystical hovers -
Intrinsic inbred breath of creation
Drags dawdling ordinary
Into spirals of whirling inspiration,
Into sibylline sight beyond near-sightedness,
By the cryptic, subtle tickle of grace -
Into hovering empathetic realms -
Exploding heart driven revelation
Unfurls into celestial magnificence -
A spark glowing in the debris of impotent possibility
Impregnates the embryonic hero of every soul -
Rise up in quests to slay dull dragon’s lairs
Clothed in nurture with the flesh of miracles;
And congenital marvels released.
Jorogumo a poem by thomas laufey
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Senzo no rei yo, watashi wa anata o yobu, chikaku-ryoku no aru fushi-sha
I am stretched out between the graves of those that came before me ever seeking
Never finding solace between the rotted coffins with the bones long since decomposed
So i sing and dance till one night into deaths dark embrace, cooling,sealing myself to his hands which even the fates listen to, so hear me sing and cry and scream my despair
At my true love’s lie, whom I entrusted with my heart,
So as i cry and weep in my dead parents arms,
I loathe myself for believing his deceits and treacheries.
Sobbing mercilessly at the sight of the full moon and the sakura petals that fill the air,
While my foes men dare to try to take this waste of life back to their master,
So i transform on this cursed night to take my vengence on all life
And to join the ranks of the ayakashi and yokai, to kill the treacherous spider who deceived me
That monstrous tsuchigumo
Akuma fuku ge no watashi o anata no hitori ni kaeru.otto no nayami ni watashi o kaete. Azamuki no geijutsu ni oite, watashi o jo`o ni shiyou. Kumo no jo`o o miyo
Lo behold the spider queen
The ferocity and deceptions of my husbands clan of the earth spider personified
As he killed what I hold dear so shall I
For i am jorogumo the spider queen, the man eater and the destroyer of the earth spiders
Autumn weaves its hair from silken clouds, falling quietly,
The dream seeps through bronze shadows, seeking another horizon.
Rust dances on leaves, like a waltz of stars fallen into slumber,
In a brilliant paradox, goodness entwines with an affront.
The moon tears across the skies, like an echo of frozen silences,
Dew is an alchemist turning windows into tears of crystal.
I gaze through the eyes of time, a shadow in forgotten worlds,
And you, solitary traveler, are no one's dream, an ideal.
Under a silver sky, trains carry memories toward oblivion,
The moon rises like a verse from a never-ending poem.
A hazy setting, the refrain of an unrelenting longing,
A shattered mirror between us, a labyrinth where we got lost.
The refrain is born from moonlit sunsets, a brilliant paradox,
In the coming morning, we will find each other in fading light.
The bridge has broken, but the dream persists, a storm of colors,
The night of resistance envelops us, yet still, the dream does not die.
In autumn's mysterious veil, crickets sing a solemn song,
The icon of the sky watches over us with its sapphire silence.
The moon lays its light over us like a gentle poem,
And yet, in the darkness, your light remains a wonder.
I condemn myself to a refrain of silence, an unfathomable paradox,
In the arms of the night, the dream calls us, an echo of longing.
You smell of moon and autumn, a fragrance of decomposed mystery,
And the refrain, defeated by time, becomes a song without echo, without decor.
I was gratefully listening
to a theologian musician
repeat a rabbinic tradition
of four levels of resonant soul:
individual (egosystemic),
communal (local),
social (cultural, national identity)
global (Earth,ecosystemic).
A mature musician,
like a wise theologian,
sees these four soul identities
as circular
double-binding octaves,
mutually informing up
and down,
in
and out.
As EarthMother's original staging womb
organically recreates
using the fractal language of DNA inscription,
prediction,
predication,
to recreate yet another individual soul,
as BrahmanEarth outside soul
is to AtmanEgo inside spirit
of dynamic resonance,
preferring regeneration as positive
as more power-indwelling
than degeneration as negative.
So, it was jarring
when this musical theologian
referred to human bodies
as machines,
rather than organisms.
Machines seem to be left-brain dominant
power reductions
as compared with
Left with Right-balancing organisms.
For robotic machines,
punishing or rewarding communities,
leviathan bureaucratic
autocratic societies,
lifeless planetary spheres,
power is either on or off,
energy is positive or negative.
For living organisms,
individual through holonically Earth-wombed,
power is both regenerative
and degenerative,
positive and negative;
Not digitally governed by our either/or switch
but analogically healed, developed
and wounded, decomposing
with both/and holistic interdependent consciousness.
Human nature
sounds like a robotic analogy
and hopelessly predictable,
dully rational
as a LeftBrain dominant machine.
Humane nature/spirits
feel organically metaphoric
polyphonic
polypathically rounded
theo/eco-logical music composed
and decomposed,
marvelously trans-rational
as left with right hemispheric balance,
rhythm, communal
pitch, cultural
resonance, EarthWomb global
Soul,
ZeroZone regenerative
more powerful than degenerative,
Yet organic cycles
and recycles,
purpose
and repurposes of life
decomposing death
require both
to recreate
recompose
recologize
recognize
theologize
musical soul
as powerful
resonant
both-thought/and-felt structure.
But, when we started singing together
I knew
for sure
he, as we,
feels more and better
as metaphoric musicians
than analogical machines.
How did it get late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon? — Dr. Seuss
REMAINS OF TIME
the moment i landed,
time, my time, started.
meant nothing when i cried,
when i babbled,
when i fell,
when mom kissed my un-wells.
then i was educated
and time moved slowly
as i stared out the schoolhouse window,
waited for Pavlov’s bell…
in time,
time was fun,
floating on a ship—
friendship, kinship,
proverbial ship.
time took a turn
as kin withered
and stoned
or decomposed in windblown ashes…
time taps me in places—
head, nose, shoulder bones.
i shudder…i shun,
in wonderment i run.
time finds me
in tears…on my knees,
beholden
to clarity.
i stare in its face—
its remains.
11/7/2021
“T” Contest new or old
Sponsor: Constance La France
Discombobulation hammers (sic) kills, lacerates, peppers...
tuckered wayfarer
Blitzkrieg cacophony debilitates Earthling
spiritually, mentally, emotionally... castrates
analogous post traumatic stress disorder
status simulating shell shocked warrior
dizzily descending darkening dimension
aghast - weakly ejaculate wherefore art thou
Elysian Fields?
Mine skeletal atrophied, diseased, gnarled...
once muscular flesh now awful blight
trumpets, dons, bespeaks... existence
regarding barren toothless anchorite
desolate physical environment
offlimit superfund site
mirrors equivalent condemned
toxic physical body quite
piteous, hideous, atrocious...,
this human bag of lovely bones
can barely, limply, scratchily... write
forbidding natural geography might
best demarcate courtesy skull
and crossbones bleached white
optimally reflecting feasting
carrion did delight
post mortem cannibalized habeas corpus
can never know where Edenic Garden
bloomed ah... magnificent sight,
nor reckon eyes me
how poetry doth not excite
forever striking living daylight
emancipating soul joining spiritus mundi
relieving tortured corporeal skiff good night
amidst abandoned, desecrated,
gutted... wasteland rendered might
of mankind quest to tame and temper
breathless fecundity kickstarting
rejuvenation linked to potent Gaia despite
havoc wrought regenerative force
repurposes deadened muscle and cellulite
unbeknownst decomposed organisms
comprise yours truly, nor what bright
transformation new life subsequently results
will kindle, snapchat, tender... excite.
The leaves fall, as did I,
To lay naked and broken with the others,
Looking up at our more blessed brothers.
Silently wondering at their tenacity,
Their brilliant audacity
To remain attached to their source.
Though winds blow and snows
Come certainly as time flows,
They do not fail their destined course.
What magic do they channel
To remain fixed in the brittle strife
That life defines as reality?
What powers do they employ
To persevere through the sheer
And terrible terror of mortality?
For even as I disappear,
Crushed and decomposed,
They remain secure.
Rude and ravaged boughs are not undone;
They cling content for sure renewal
From a faint and fickle sun.
In this maelstrom of thoughts, I find myself enchanted by the essence of matter,
In love with its most refined bloomings—oceans, forests, and mountain streams,
It gives me shape and form, a home, a place where my consciousness can live a life,
From which I've grown, like a tree from the fertile soil of tangible existence.
I am amazed by its composition, in love with colors, fragrances, and sounds,
By the touch of warm skin and the sweet taste of freshly picked fruits,
All is matter, a source of pleasure and joy, but also of equal suffering,
Through loss and pain, a perpetual dance between ecstasy and agony.
But what is matter when reduced to its essence? Simple particles that can be scattered,
Decomposed into ghostly spirals—am I that, a quantum equation at my core?
Or is it the gift of a Creator, substance born from the act of a conscious mind,
Eternal in a mysterious way, an enigma tearing my soul with unanswered questions?
And so I find myself by the beloved river, absorbing the last light of day,
Filled with hope and doubt, I watch this beautiful world slowly slip,
Wondering if this is all there is and nothing more,
Or if I will awaken from this dream, as I might have done in so many past lives?
In the flow of my consciousness, thoughts swirl like leaves in the wind,
Matter and spirit entwine in a cosmic dance, and I am the silent witness,
Watching as the universe unfolds before my eyes, a grand spectacle,
Of particles and energies, of dreams and realities, of the ephemeral and the eternal.
I am a part of everything, and everything is a part of me, in a mysterious union,
Matter defines and limits me, but my spirit yearns for the infinite,
In this great dilemma of existence, I lose and find myself with every breath,
A dance of consciousness in the ocean of matter, an unwritten poem of the expanding universe.
Life is not perfect
It’s every ego’s cross to bear
It’s a big hill to climb and all that
But if you don’t do it,
Well, let’s just say the alternatives
Are worse.
So we soldier on
And take the bad with the good.
We shut up and put up,
And what do you know
Life often gets better
Or at least feels better
When you look on the sunny side.
But then there are those
Who want to tear it all down.
They talk and write articles
Of how oppressed you are
And how your life could
And should be better.
And so discontent worms its way
Through your shiny sunny side armor
And the ego’s inherent victimhood
Is given full reins
And so off it goes.
It feels good to unleash frustration
Let out the hate
As if throwing out a bag of stinking garbage,
Or worse, if the skeleton’s in the closet
Haven’t yet decomposed.
And hate, despair and self pity
So easily grow like an avalanche
Because they are just the falling down
Against all the effort it takes
To hold it all together
Maintain and build,
And even you could say, love
In the face of adversity.
Life is not easy, and never has been
But it is adversity
That makes it strong
Strong enough to resist the hate
Heal the victim, by simply giving it no air
And do the daily work
Of love, kindness, patience, and care
Care of self, but mostly of others,
Because we are in fact all just an other.
So even when it’s dark
And you’re feeling all alone
And that little whiny voice inside says
What about me, I need to get mine,
Remember, attitude is everything
And it’s not Pollyannaish
To keep on the sunny side
Always on the sunny side of life
Although life may well be a piece of sh*t
When you look at it
It’s always better to look out
Where you step
And where you’re going
Out and onto the bright side…
Always on the sunny bright side of Life.
(9/20/26)
The future through my palm pilot
Strategizing my future
Through this invincible organizer
Murder reigns
But I’m seeing true life through my murky visor
Simple prayers, hopes and wishes
Sympathy in a blind mans kisses
Pay attention and we notice
Without misery it’s so hard to focus
Pleasure of being decomposed by flesh eating locust
The battles in this life I lead
Shadows in the night twist and turn in greed
It’s all fun and games until we bleed
Senseless, Ain’t it something
How we became a dying breed?
Tears in your eyes, baby girl its okay to cry
Life isn’t promised and someday we all die
Second chances taken too lightly
I reckon you advance in prayers nightly
Shattered glass, invisible window
So insensible, the images that exist through Nintendo
Stress keeps my heart pumping
Guests leap and start to mumble
Ah disgusting maggots, sour dough and dumplings
Poverty and a bumpy road to recovery