Long Deflation Poems

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


Premium Member Regenerating 2020 Hope

I once heard,
Hope is what can positively happen
after listening to all the realistic facts
and then continuing in good faith anyway.

I also heard,
Cynicism about others,
like narcissism about oneself,
is sadly generative,
expansively powerful,
contagious

Just as hope about others
and compassion with oneself
are happily generative,
exponentially win/win contagious.

Both negative and positive attitudes are generative,
but hope is cooperatively regenerative
while external cynicism,
like internal narcissism,
like ecopolitical fascism,
is degenerative,
competitively contagious,
inviting a long, slow, painful
lose/lose death.

Cynicism flirts with Lose/Lose outcomes
projections
often escalated by competing
"If you think that's horrible enough,
listen to this terrifying
or merely titillating tale..."

Despite our broken
wounded
depressing cynically competing natures
and narcissistic nurtures
of Business As Usual stories of competing
capital-hoarding ego-centrism,
Active 2020 hope looks for WinLeft/WinRight options,
plans,
eco-operatively reassociating 
mutual ego-healing
across all multicultural
and polypathic 
non-sectarian 
good-faith systems,
cooperatively-owned nutritional networks.

Cynicism projects Earth's LoseLose demise.
Scepticism questions, doubts, humanity's WinLose economy
could ever become a long-term healthy trajectory.
Optimism actively hopes a short-term investment
in egocentric deflation, dis-investment, detachment
will lead to long-term Lose to Win
healthier egocentric evolution
some other climate darkening day.

WinWin optimization
cooperatively goodfaiths (gospels), mentor
models short-term through long-term compassionate ecstasy
restoring peace and holistic justice

Green sanctuary 2020 left/right
yang/yin
universal/unitarian (not fragmentarian) revolutions,
regeneration/degeneration options
every bicameral day
every binomial ego/eco-where
with every one
regathering bilateral interior-beliefs 
compassioning exterior-behavior.

Regenerate hope is what happens
after listening to all the RealTalk
co-operating healthy passions 
any way
any time
any where
everyday.


Mad Scientist of Poetry

It's hard to breathe-poor respiration
Stomach hurt due to a combination 
Of starvation and constipation
I feel like bad inflation
I need deflation
Get me a doctor to perform the operation
To make it in this world its mad desperation
I refuse to make adaptation to nonsense and instigation
I'm so sweaty more wet than condensation
Precipitation
Evaporation
Body so glossy it's like anatomy lamination
So I dry off like fabrication
I wish I was make-believe like animation
My own choice my own obligation
First start with an observation
Then evaluation
A problem in the atmoshere? Bad radiation
In 360 circulation
Earth's manipulation
Creates a bad situation
For the population
To feel a bad sensation
Like planet domination
Due to poor human reputation
The ultimate retaliation 
Is Revelation
...As the #1 selection
Regardless of complexion
Object of every girl's affection
Lookin for the best connection
As a correction 
From going in the wrong to right direction
It's like an infection
I want success so bad I get an ********...
In addition
To my subscription
To a perscription
To my addiction
Of the worst possible condition
Avoid the infliction 
And affliction
Of pain of a titanic description
So I jail my anger with no jurisdiction
But I still face conviction
For kickin the automobile of anarchy into ignition
Can it lead me to a contradiction
Or a mental restriction
While I sleep I have recognition
I'm not the disease but the cure or is that a premonition
Or Gods intuition...
This is literal
Critical
And pitiful...
Beware we are almost at the completion 
Of Earth's depletion
It's no secretion...
Could it be distinction 
Or extinction...
From gov't corruption 
To volcanic eruption
We are the production
Too late for interruption...
Any confession
Any suggestion
If you want to end the world here's the succession...
In conclusion
This is purely retribution
For distribution
Of pollution
No illusion
No confusion
No dillusion
Just an intrusion
Erase the constitution...
There's no prevention
Of the redemption...
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Trauma History

Could chronic stress,
like sleep deprivation,
noise and light and air pollution
also derive
by avoiding barely still alive
high-risk trauma messes?

Sometimes sadly beginning
prior to economic and political puberty

Including multi-generational suppression
misogynistic sex tensions
and monotheistic depression
and homophobic repression,
hateful Othering paranoid impressions,
chronic monocultural climate despair,
uncivil disinvested oppressions

Endarkened
by a popular FirstWorld
anthro-privileged
secularizing, dividing, dissociating
evolutionary theory
of mutual assured predation
damnation
degenerating ecosystemic deflation,
ecocidal extinction
of once sacred synergetic EarthLove
elation

Or at least
co-empowering messianic missions 
for restoring EarthJustice
mental ego-health is physical eco-wealth 
co-relations.

So, go on
all RightWing
WrongHeaded;
service yourself!

But
I doubt you will find 
your God's RightHand solipsism
resiliently satisfying
much less sacredly edifying.

Uncovering ecofeminists
and recovering peace mediators
are done being your ***** punishing bag!
Your indigenous justice
community resonance hag!

Did I hear that out loud?

Oh, any polypathic way,
Does chronic lifetime-anxiety disorder,
win/lose competitive stress,
contribute to multi-generational high-risk trauma histories?

Sometimes beginning long before adult maturing transition
from Either/Or fundamentalist childlike conditions
not Both/And exploring inside/outside
neuro-sensory double-boundaries
in-between healthy, mature win/win resonance
and lose/lose despairing dissonance,
positively and negatively
therapeutically and traumatically
correlated

In older adults
sometimes producing increased market risks
and opportunities of dementia,
with unfortunate paranoid demise

Rather than fortunate co-invested
peaceful
pleasured 
mindbody post-traumatic surprise
of warm unconditional outcomes
in win/win Paradise.

Incarceration

Your incarceration 
Causes me humiliation 
I try my best not to bring it up 
But my mind stays in this location 
I miss you so much but our relationship has never had a firm foundation 
Yes our relationship is just a complication
So what am I to do 
You once were good to me 
But everything has changed 
A mother to me you were but now you are estranged
Maybe prison will change you 
Maybe something’s to be arranged 
Because of you my mind is now deranged 
So now while we both sit staring at wall 
I tend to sit and wait for a 877 call 
Trying to remember our last interaction but I just can’t quite seem to recall 
Went through your things that people treated like a take all 
An intense anger that did install 
Before and after this incarceration 
Our relationship is at a deprivation 
Cause to you let’s be honest.. I was never an obligation 
As a mother you sent in your resignation 
Leaving me to learn how to be patient 
I wrote you letters hoping to make your day
But in prison I’m not sure a day can be made 
A small piece of writing 
a letter written like band aid 
Praying to god that behind bars you don’t slowly fade 
They said at least a decade 
I heard and it felt like I was pushed in the deep end holding bricks I was weighed 
Down to the bottom I can’t catch my breath 
Yes I am so afraid 
Now Having to communicate with people from the past 
Needing help to talk to you so on my grudges I place a cast 
Seeing old faces and saying let’s get to the point no need to contrast 
Our feelings set aside and let’s keep all this off broadcast 
Our relationship is unsurpassed
I need this process to move a little fast 
So your incarceration 
Has caused my heart some deflation
At a point of starvation 
For something more than just a blood relation
 So now I’ve made it my proclamation 
That I will never be something even considered your replication
© Raylin Gee  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Book the Wizard Wrote Part Seven

Sinkin lips
the revolutionary how to overthrow a government will come in handy 
and the love letters to protect you of prayers for the matter 
what change would do us good?
whose living in a paper bag? 
will be something worth saving 
its twelve past midnight
in the end you will find me home
 Nothing to prove with empty eyes
one day I will write this book 
and lead many enlightened beings through
Hush hush hush
Sell the house to go to the school of the streets page by page 
flipped out cats?
reveal their surrounding sin riddle and tell them what pages to throw away and 
what pages to keep 
what are the truth prophecies and what are the fake 
but among every possibility and in this game this test of strategy and 
foreshadowing of 
It was the way he walked
When he walked in
He was like king lear

opportunity to be a zero hero or a hero to pass down and be passed down and 
the sucker  patrol of nightmares and mindscapes and predicted forthcoming 
legacies of self-control 
OH NO LOOK OUT!!!!
and deflation of egos 
the hurt of it 
thousands of you
the beauty the fight
and you think it’s all about you
to sink the drink and leave you taking it



I can taste it 
this godly mannered book will catch on 
I will write it 
I will write it for you 
you will desecrate it
With your seamen shoes
And your plastic swords
Kitchen floor angels  
and in a time capsule 
where every page is in brail
A new ouija board 
buried beneath the earth to  be dug up it will be published again in centuries to 
pass when you think you have it defeated


Anti-Ode To Rain

The big 'R', do you actually know what you're doing
To our week nation,
Absolute panic stations, feckin banter deflation, endless duration
Eternal damnation the foundation, our country's creation.
No shortage of hydration in any location, 
Sure isn't Patsy livid, the crops are bad, explicit gyrations.
Sure no wonder there's emigration by the dozen every week,
Has given or society an ugly mutation, 
Gets lubrication each day thanks to you.
There's a sad wet dog in the station 
Contemplating rotation.
You rain on our frustration, wash our sins for we have 
Offended out of hatred and vexation,
All we're looking for is some compensation.
Rosary beads in homes nationwide and Bridie is saying the rosary
For a chance of salvation, god love her she's my relation.
The forecast gives us the temptation to believe,
Subtle touch of authority has us buying flip-flops, frustration.
We have brain cells you know, we give into temptation,
Because in this situation we can find our own destination.
Just sayin aviation is our saving grace from drowning captivation, 
And there's as much chance getting compensation 
from you as we are from a cheap flight cancellation.
Rain we've had enough, because we're ready to make a revelation
And through your bitter tears you'll hear our declaration.
We're out for palpitation then leave you to your desperation, 
Because as a population, it's our dedication, inspiration and vegetation
That are emanating through your drops of dislocation.
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Straight White Privileged Silence

Listen to sterile silence
nursing homebound fans
wavering white noiselessness
of silent futile passing

Absence of passion
hope
care
happiness
or creased
and reasoned 
nearing deceased sadness.

Hear this void of madness,
lack of hunger
or parched thirst
for conversation
splendid nutrition
scandalous emission
empowering immigration
enlightened emigration
or angry fear emanation
of forced solitude migration

Into mortal loss
of sensory reception
political deception
economic perception
theistic inception
septic conception.

Smell nothing.

Taste everything
becomes dust
delustered rust
lust for transcendent
disembodied consummation
omnipresent transportation
omniscient evaporation
full latitude
for fragrance-free
plastic platitudes
feckless attitudes
disdainful blows
against further fertile emanations.

Sing where nothing
settles into rounding octave rings
to never
ever want to dance
in robust spirals
forming springs

Against depressions
felt repressions
thought impressions
known suppressions
unheard deflation
worn through integration
transcultural conflation

Of pantheistic elegant circling Zeroes
absorbed by a monstrous
monopolistic silent
slick supreme One

Listening to sterile silence
nursing homebound fans,
white emptiness
of silent
restless passing.

Glare at isolation.

Rake loneliness in.

Sleep with solitude
if you dare
to care
and share
yet without an inch
or squeezed moment
to spare.

Premium Member There's a dead horse in my bathtub

I resist the urge to write of what I allegedly know for I am unsure of where I gathered the information and therefor unsure of whether I know it or not.  As you can see this poses a strange conundrum as I may be beating a dead horse leaving me with the confusing dilemma of explaining why I beat the horse to death in the first place.  Granted it is a metaphorical horse and as such was given life through my personification of its being and undoing.  Thus, I keep it in the bath tub for use as a subtly stupid response to inquiries such as “how’s it going”and “what’s new”, to which I reply: “There’s a dead horse in my bathtub”.

I once knew that 2 plus 2 equaled 4.  Not so sure anymore as I never accounted for inflation, deflation, tariffs, or the rising heat index as the planet shrinks and the stock marked rates crypto currency and jelly beans have been outlawed.  Remember, penny candy, jelly beans, paper with sticky sugary dots, Mary Jane’s.  Probably not.  But I digress as presently you can’t get a thought for a penny as in “a penny for your thoughts”.  It now requires filling out a 12 page terms and conditions document and a 25 dollar filing fee.  This may account for the reason so many are presently thoughtless or worse yet that when one person has a thought so many grab onto it and repeat it parrot-like until they start to argue over who’s thought it is or was.  This usually engenders a plethora of lawsuits over the violation of someone’s “intellectual” rights.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Unholy Ruminations

The opposite of life
is death

The polar opposite of eternal health
is terminal disease,
with unease perhaps lying/truthing
in-between timelessness
and untimely demise

So too,
my opposite of steady compassion
may be your unsettling dispassion

Elation v deflation
of all these oppositional answers above
as clear
as unclear appositional questings
below.

What is my opposite of suicide?
Self promotion?
Ego inflation?
Having all my consuming needs
fully answered?

Or 
maybe some uneasy questing
timeless mind
and spacious body
in-between healthy Now

And death-defying
death-denying
death-defining
death-despairing
death-despoiling
AnthroLove Here

Remains part of EarthLife There
whenever tomorrow comes
Now?

As Me curiously questioning
feels like our lonelier half
of We not yet 
finally answering?

What could appositionally rebalance
death's final answering Earth-climate
and life's open questioning Anthro-culture?

What is the opposite of lively ruminations
and deadly ideations?

What lies contentious truths contenting,
In-between EarthBody's discommunication 
desecrating death
and AnthroMind's sacred communion life?

The Racing Certainty

collects his benefits from hole in the wall

Luck is on his side, that's his school of thought

His mate has given him a hot tip, good man Paul

the stable lad, he's in the know well he ought 

Because he said put your shirt on this one

A racing certainty, can't lose,  a walk over,

He enters the bookies, nothing can go wrong,

Writes his betting slip, looking over his shoulder,

Planning to double his money, odds not too long,

Five minutes to the start, he counts his returns

In his head, stalls are being loaded, starter ready

Flag drops stalls open, there off, his stomach churns,

hustling and bumping for position, he feels unsteady,

He's watching the race but his mind begins to wonder

Starts thinking what treats to buy for his three kids

A lovely bouquet of flowers for his devoted woman

Get a take away, perhaps a Chinese sticky spare ribs

Things will be great when this racing certainty  comes in

Then shouts from other punters, roaring get in my son

Then came the realisation, devastation, deflation, 

No such thing as a racing certainty, all his money gone.
© Roy Pett  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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