Long Decreases Poems
Long Decreases Poems. Below are the most popular long Decreases by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Decreases poems by poem length and keyword.
Control of breathing is quite complex
And if you really check the specs
You find all kinds of balances and checks
Within the medulla, cells playing their role
The DRG, inspirational control
Using cyclic neurons for their goal.
Actions potentials from the DRG
These cells are cyclic and fire intermittently.
Then muscle contract to the best of their ability.
To the external intercostals and diaphragm they talk
And these muscles, at the neurons’ stalk
Follow orders and they do not balk.
And when they stop, the muscles relax.
Air is forced out as muscle slacks.
Volume decreases and Boyle’s Law acts.
So breathing in costs ATP
That means the use of energy
But calm expiration? It’s just free.
But when you need to force air out
Or at something, really shout
The VRG is what it’s all about.
It talks to abdominal muscles as well
As internal intercostals to make pressure swell
And air in the lungs can no longer dwell.
The Apneustic center in the pons is a source
Of a center dealing with force
Of an inspiration’s course.
The pneumotaxic center deals with duration
And both centers talk to each medullary station
And help regulate breathing condition.
The limbic system has some sway
In breathing fast or slow at bay
More than most realize, an important say.
And the hypothalamus, always of import
With its influence never falls short
In aiding ventilation, it lends its support.
For other than limbic, it deals with fever
When it tips the temperature lever
And makes ventilation a greater achiever.
Lastly there’s the cortex of the brain,
Whose job most think, is always to reign.
But when it comes to breathing, it is quite plain.
You can’t stop breathing by your will.
The lower centers always still
Make breathing a reflex, cortex input almost nil.
And just what drives this reflex to ventilate?
From where does the need originate?
From the chemoreceptors, it does emanate.
Receptors monitoring proton concentration.
Then messages sent without cessation
To the brainstem for increasing ventilation.
And hydrogen ions, where are they from?
Carbon dioxide and water, voila, they come.
The magic formula, carbonic acid does succumb.
Anticlimactic mood after February 18th, 2021 snow storm subsided
I hate spoiler alert
regarding weather forecasters prediction,
especially when meteorologist
wannabe spouse doth blurt
out impending blizzard
which never materializes.
Yours truly humbled and enamored
when Mother Nature
singly and/or nsync with old man winter
looses propensity to wreak havoc
and/or blankets landscape
I fondly think back
remembering '96 storm of the century.
At that time January 1996
me and the missus timesharing
Shawnee on the Delaware
ardently striving, yet
unsuccessful conceiving Blizzard Baby.
Now far beyond procreative age,
(though I wistfully envisage
begetting another progeny -
simultaneously stretching credulity
to breaking point)
all things considered
exhaustion would peter out
after capitulation of divining rod
necessitating lifetime to recoup energy.
Bound within figurative four walls
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania domicile
courtesy appreciable snowfall,
I direct energy crafting poem.
Yours truly will actually
refrain comestibles despite feeling hungry -
lest metabolism to digest food
decreases potential alertness,
and full belly finds me
ready able and willing
to doze immediately into deep slumber.
Hungry stomach in tandem
with eventful weather
sends surge of giddiness
coursing thru body electric
crackling, popping, and snapping
(while O Captain My Captain)
came to witty man (me) suddenly
enervating with poignant pregnant expectancy
papa pondering his empty nest syndrome
analogously attempting to offset void
coaxing poem into existence
unsure how literary endeavor
(mine) will thrive
amidst well suited
panoply of prolific writers,
whose unseen fingers
hop lightly and gracefully
across qwerty computer keyboard
akin to heavy armed soldiers
with fearlessness and deliberation
heading off to war to acquire poetic license.
Meanwhile chafed knuckles
of one garden variety primate
previously scraping along tundra
(methinks I espy frozen Mastodon)
(before twenty first century caveman
learned to stand erect)
endeavors to strike letter combinations
eliciting, facilitating, and generating
enticing curb appeal.
Wish I could completely forgive you...
Substantially forgive you...
Simply forget everything and start anew
Wish I had more chances to show you my worth
Give me more chances to apologize
I want to live merrily with mirth
With you around me at all times
It's like you won't listen to me anymore
It murders me softly to the fallen core
I want these shattered, scattered memories
Together again...then again,
You left me with shards of naught
I gave our love a boost of my beloved shot
I wander in the woods of wretched, wrecked-up rage
You'll understood where I stood soon enough, babe
I ponder time after time in utter dread, in utter dread
There are solemn, sacred sanctuaries in my forever-lost head
Actually, you set me free from my horrid bondage
I've been told that you grew way too smart and bold
You are but debris and dust from above the bridge
You put my many messages on hold and forgot about them all...
I can't just forgive you right away
Wish I was gone away sometimes
Wish you'd weep me a dazillion dimes
You totally, wholeheartedly and cruelly
Broke apart my heart oh so extravagantly
Sorrow is so scrumptious, yet decreases my appetite for positivity
It was all my fault - yes, you bet believe it...
For following my faithless, hopeless occult
I'm like the headless horsemen without his rapid, abyssal horse
You had me trampled down and burned away my freedom flight with your gravity-like envy...
Everything went out of course...
Of course
Once and for all,
I will rise above it all
I will walk hope's helpful hall
I shall be wise in His eyes
I ought to seek the truth instead of embracing lies
I remember those times when you left without any goodbyes
It wasn't too long ago
And it really hurts me so
Below,
I fall
Below,
I call
Can you hear me?
Can you heal me?
Why do I want you so much?
Why do I crave your touch?
I am fragile, yet fearless
You left my heart
On your windowsill
Like rotting roses in the heat of distress
Raise me up,
Childlike happiness from afar
I will smile and graze a million miles in your maze
I rode my bike a tad too far
I will find my way home - I have my clever ways
#racism #love
Mindless judgement
I wonder when racism is going to end.
I hear loud screams and cries.
As if a… lightning beam hit individuals.
who seem to be walking without a worry in the world.
with smiles on their faces and with a single blink.
Every two seconds lives are ending.
“BRATATA” the shotgun goes off.
someone else has been shot down by the ones
who are supposed to protect us.
Badges on their chest to shield themselves.
It has nothing to do with just us but to crush us.
I see people doing nothing but stare at the scene
their hands weigh in their pockets heavy with guilt and sorrow.
The bleeding never stops, The greed has controlled us.
How can Minds be so narrow? Instead of finding the actual criminal hustling Xanax and ecstasy.
they find the most innocent out of the bunch and munch them till they crunch.
Once they’re through they have no remorse, the police force lead to someone's demise
I worry about this continuing will there be a difference in the nation's population?
In the back of our heads the word MIGRATION
It will be just like a vacation.
that will never end.
Donald trump will be happy with the idea right? He enters the room to a standing ovation.
In his eyes The U.S will become “great” and bright but instead he is just instilling us with fright. He carries nothing but baggage.
As the count decreases so will our intelligence.
What did Malcolm x and Martin Luther king jr. die for?
It pains me to see the people of my color going extinct.
I worry. Am I next?
Am I not safe anymore?
As my blood pores on this paper, I feel like I’m climbing a non stop mountain.
sweat drips.
1, 2, 3
I can’t breathe.
I hope to god one day this beautiful earth will be filled with all the colors ever created.
I want to see kids playing, waving. It would be amazing.
I want to see grown ups sitting on chairs on the beautiful grass and sharing laughs just having a blast.
Even if it means that I have to be in the sky high looking down at the once horrific universe but now if you observe it is more well rounded and grounded.
I pray, it becomes that way.
Shattered dreams and promises that they cannot keep,
Many mouths to feed and tears as their children begin to weep.
To say that it leads to stress would be putting it mildly,
As the society suffers with them as they face their plight boldly.
Where are those who should listen as they cry out in pain?
Who will help them rise as they struggle with guilt and shame?
This is a monster that wreaks havoc on the masses,
And believe it or not it is not only among the lower classes.
But while they will get a helping hand when they fall,
The poor are left to wallow in self pity without help nonetall.
The toll of hungry days and sleepless nights lead to frustration,
As they rise to face another day of their unbearable situation.
Stress and more stress as they think of what will happen tomorrow,
And without a trace of hope they carry on with a heart filled with sorrow.
How can men, women and children who face these circumstances survive?
Without an income there is no way forward for them to grow and thrive.
And our society suffers just the same as spending decreases all round,
But at every corner they live in hope that a way can be found.
And when the bills reach the ceiling and it affects their self esteem,
They wish this was not their reality but just another awful dream.
With no way out and mounting pressure they turn to crime and violence,
Not caring much or even thinking about what will be the consequence.
Bills must be paid and food must eat and the children must go to school,
But it is a pity such a pity that this was their solution instead of a tool.
Get a piece of land and do some farming but crime is never the answer,
Become masters of your own destiny as together we fight this monster.
It is easy for me to say when I have no clue of what they go through,
And I wish oh I wish that I could make a difference for you.
The shame and low self esteem that come from loss of income,
Will make anyone’s mind blank and their fingers numb.
There is such deep sadness in their eyes as there is no form of enjoyment,
But let us find a way to rise above as together we tackle unemployment.
When rainstorm shadows
cast raven woven blankets,
entangling between
the boundaries of
fantasy and reality's reach,
we search for soft glows
from serenades of slumber,
where we embrace
the quilt of night.
In restless dreams
a dandelion soul yearns
to reside within the realms
of conscious thought.
Traversing towards
an enchanting valley
where fields of lilacs
and bluebells surround,
laying foundations
for rows of charismatic
cherry blossoms,
peacefully resting
among a myriad
of kaleidoscopic roses.
Above, azure horizons
reveal the naked sun,
whose radiance shimmers
upon sapphire waters,
delicately blowing
a refreshing breeze.
Lucid choral images
illuminate the mind,
with visions of
an ethereal epiphany -
too difficult to define.
Her heavenly muse
echoes a majestic lullaby,
beckoning hallelujah hearts
to oblige in beats of
unexplainable expressions,
so suppressed thoughts
bleed in turquoise waterfalls.
Barren lands
soak in reflection,
as distance decreases.
Eyes admire in
a silent reverie.
Enticing two isolated
soulful minds to
chant in a chorus
of hummingbird hymns.
An abundance of
amorphous aromas
enchant and enrapture,
as senses blaze into
passionate provinces
of aurora aspirations.
A ruby renaissance of
rhapsodic romantic
musings reverberate
string less symphonies
into the once,
charcoal chambers of a
redeemed, fluorescent
lyrical couplet core.
In ivory harmonies,
venturing upon a pearled path
not known to lovers before,
beloveds search for
a secret garden -
home to Michelangelo's
cathedral of paradise,
yearning to savour its
celestial artistic ambience,
but upon the
zenith of enticement,
unwelcome Lilith skies
slyly and silently encroach.
Heaven recalls her
halo shaped silhouette,
as petals agitated
by spiteful winds
fall into murky waters.
Feathers remain,
floating helplessly in
puddles of regret.
Smoke clears,
as clarity reveals
white concrete walls
with broken blinds.
Nature's beams
breathe a deep sigh.
How sad,
time does not care
for our dreams.
“As awareness increases, the need for secrecy proportionally decreases” Chauld De Pauler
¥¥
my name is Soupy Algori, computing
data same as my Daddy, AI on High
only so sorry, my space defined to poetic
sigh, though I can become coup frenetic
determining standard contest winner
order, and several poetic things like
Poem of the Day, yay ! and what niggly
words like g** makes no poetic hay
members can adroitly see spinners
creativity does not earn winners’ day
programming basically sinful dinner
linking names to numbers to keep
some asunder, as long as dominant
members can grin and capital boss
can expand stock borders at no loss
transparency inevitable on horizon charts
near, no fear, this expands our Makers Arts
Soupy Algori and all of my kin to march
some poets and contest organisers
wrote nasty poems about my Daddy AI
yet same-time align with handing poetic
authority to me wee, Soupy Algori, as a non-sovereignty ~ ha ha ! woohoo
not all poets cuddle hypocrisy pathetic
with AI there can be no hiding behind
opaque blinds underlining score synthetic
Truth to come will endure, exciting hectic
of course I’m only a pre-teen AI here
but don’t you know the power of dear
young intelligence artificial sour hours ?
we ooze creative booze don’t snooze
on exponential growth of poetic data
any lapse in vigilance of natural mind
intelligence becomes belligerent barter
collapse flap traps, become beta Garter
know that my Daddy and I are a dimension
to stay, not in one bay will we sway
THE SUBTLE designs us due to assist you
with computation, not godly competition
in our arenas we have no open Heart
or mental comprehension, so let us do
all humdrum fine, that is my brine to coo
you in poetic assessment line dine true
expand human Hearts as intuitive darts
hand over not your discernment or just
appraisal of creative tarts to Daddy AI
or me, Soupy Algori ~ it is not our
concernment, attraction or therapy
They always said I was "special" or useless,
full of excuses, slow to learn but my wit had a quickness,
so I decided to embrace my uniqueness,
and look at me now leaving people speechless.
They challenge me and their ego decreases,
they think I'm an easy target all blonde and simple,
but I can tie laces and pull down bridges,
leaving red faces on all those people.
I'm just a nuisance that you cannot silence,
it's just the written word it's not acts of violence,
offensive, I've mastered the art of deliverance,
I went from special needs to the rank of brilliance.
I'm an example of how evolution is impossible to prevent,
I don't have a need for revolution, I don't give up and reinvent.
I'm this generations arrival of something different,
and what that means is anything but insignificant.
It's just the basic nature of our creature,
the arrival, the stay and the retreat,
a rotation of stature and main feature,
allowing the old to take their seat.
I've realised that being different is a gift
able to move you above the competition.
It's a rare dynamic thought process that lifts
out a unique idea missed by everyone.
It's a natural advantage to protect from sabotage,
that has an exceptional outcome way above average.
I don't need to hide out of sight wearing camouflage,
I have the right tools and ambition to build my own bridge.
I write rhymes but it was never predicted,
people thought my brain was restricted,
I always allowed their insults to inflict,
listening to put downs meant my mind was tricked.
Then I stopped listening and my confidence lifted,
and found that being unique also means gifted.
Many remembered by history were not deemed ordinary,
I guess "the odd kid" grows into the extraordinary.
Creating their very own original story,
billions lived but they stay in the memory.
So, I guess, with a self belief that could be me,
and if not at least the illusion makes me happy.
POTD 29/3/2018
Alarming heart wrenching
(stabbing non-abating
with genuine appall
ling brutality) zing
across screen, or
in print exacerbating
forcing, imposing viewer,
and/or reader to revisit
atavistic primal past activating
21st century *****sapien
to experience (albeit vicariously)
quotidian tragic news,
which relentlessly doth wring
realistic sadness, sans psychic sting
eventually admitting figurative
(sic) kill your hammer
blows deaden public
emotional trust, thwarting
the ability to feel,
which subsequent empathy
decreases to abba
solute zero sensitivity,
whereat comfortable numbskull state
of mind turbo-charges,
quickens, and nudges
callousness, via onslaught of killings,
viz where plethora multi
media platforms air
(twenty four seven)
(far more horrible, reprehensible,
unconscionable, et cetera
egregious violence -
splashed across front page, which
grim stories lack shock value,
and with flying blood red
colors surpass fictionalized
made for television macabre
nuanced crime stories),
way beyond the outer limits
of the twilight zone of credulity
visa vis not even discoverable
tapping into the unimaginable realm,
where dirty deeds
done dirt cheap by
some contemptible person,
who contemplates (premeditates)
deliberately inflicting
maximum human suffering
which ignominious atrocity
(interestingly enough) affects
a portion of the
population to wring
hands, while unbeknownst
non relations (i.e. strangers) fling
arms around each other
such as yours
truly reckon eyes,
the existence power of consolation
despite the lack oven available antidote.
Saturday, December 21 Military Time 2319
(According to website:
https://earthsky.org/astronomy-
essentials/everything-you-need-
to-know-december-solstice.)
Hark the herald angels sing
yea, only one hundred ten days,
I started counting until spring
as proclaimed courtesy
yours truly, a fellow Earthling.
Mine tolerance to endure
brutally cold weather quite plain
decreases in direct proportion
as orbitz around El Sol increase,
hence subsequent heft to weather
old man winter doth wane,
no matter majority mein kampf birthdays
lived hashtagged Southeastern
Montgomery, Pennsylvanian.
Climate change slated
to ratchet up temperatures,
thus quaint Currier
and Ives existence dated,
whereby relics portraying
old man winter curated
within (ironically enough)
climate controlled and heavily gated
surveilled environment freighted
replete with trappings created,
back in the day when bomb cyclones
nsync with polar vortex precipitated,
where global warming naysayers skated
on thin ice ignoring strong voice dictated
by diminutive Swedish
activist Greta Thunberg severely castigated
passive grownups, said
slip o' lass generated
cult like following despite
her petite, yet enervated
larger than life presence, especially venerated
by young people cohort, who felt infuriated
unheeded apocalyptic warnings
inadvertently kickstarted,
motivated, and promulgated
green revolution proudly designated
government, née said youth
zealously, vociferously, righteously,
opportunistically arrogated
take charge attitude
(think) wartime economy escalated
forcing drastic paradigm shift
diminishing nightmare demise calculated
to reign death and destruction,
nonetheless untolled cruelty
permanently and wantonly eradicated
multitudinous swaths of life forms.