Long Demarcation Poems
Long Demarcation Poems. Below are the most popular long Demarcation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Demarcation poems by poem length and keyword.
Oddra was a little birdie who was locked in her gold guilt cage.
On the eve of her destruction she was too quick in throwing down her page.
Serendipity had led her to the most wonderful birdie carnival in town.
Little then, did any know, that soon would come WWE, Smack Down.
She spread her wings and danced and sang and flitted all about.
The she started out and shared a bit….OK…she shared a lot!
She was in her groove! Or At least that’s what she thought.
This is when the lines got crossed, causing the great confusion.
That escalated to pointing fingers blame and accusation of delusion.
Unfortunately, her listening was selective. So this is all she heard,
whispers, “What kind of bird is that, a loon, a coo-coo bird?”
“She looks a little parroty to me”. Writing on the wall read, “sitting duck”
Unwittingly she’d stepped on toes, as misconceptions flowed both ways.
She had no idea that some had known her from before, in better days.
She did not hear nor see them. Did not hear them rapping at her door.
The kept reaching out a hand to say hello. She appeared to just ignore.
Who’d be talking to her there? She’d never been there before.
She completely missed her half of her poor friend’s ironic one way conversation.
She shared again, totally unrelated, that fit in perfect context as brutal provocation.
After this, the demarcation line of friend and foe becomes a little blurry.
Each perceived the others actions as offensive resulting in actions of fury.
Hold a pen in front of you, from end to end, creates a line.
But hold looking down its barrel and it’s circular in design.
Both are true, and also both are lies. In the end they’re both the same.
Is an Oddra not an Oddra even with a different name?
Here’s my stamp, Divine Design; classic, tragedy and comedy. That was the only
mask.
Oddra, cursed the circled ones. The lines, drawn in the sand, doomed her as their
task.
The lines devised a brilliant plan: having placed some peas around a hole they’d
made in some ice,
“Apocapus”, as she’d been dubbed, “She has to pee sometime, When she comes up
to take a pea
we’ll kick her in the ice hole.”
There it is my friends. Oddra was Slammed dunked!!
This is just tale. I to this I will fully digress, I am a very Odd Duck!!!
There were those too, caught in the middle, undeserved bad luck!!
Form:
Last call for alcohol, embargo
on the cargo headed for Fargo?
Bootlegging articles of?
"ConfederationNow",
Boot logger, droned Over all? Foggered... Froggers, sprawled. Farms attacked by competing vows. ++
Blood drained Cows.
Imagine, Gaia hype- our brainwashing, a
sacrifice to a Paul Bunyan Nephilim type, "Savior" moonshining wormwood tea in exchange for Sheep. Believing them to be. Stoned blind in Texas, right wing.
Liquid Media medicinals, points for eveyone West of, Diagonal the Allegheny, best of show, suggestion,
allegiant, allegory. (Oh...allegedly.)
As The King of the North fights zombies that believe the Game of Thrones just fantasy. Conspiracy_ Storytellers of propagandolf, minds of Sauron to keep
eyes Wide-Shut. By Aristocracy.
To "pass" on the proof of those stoned blind in Texas, shekeled, bought, brought a Rose, of Sharon,
from Ticked Karen's, in their own Eden.
Those non-Citizens,
"Christians of the un-Enlightened" l"unacy of Old',
thoughts? NoahmadicHeathens!
Of the tide turning; going South.
The dark side of the moon,
a journey scape of wet dreams in swoon.
To partake the half empty side of drink.
Salt of thirsts.
Cup of wrath of the Directional Winds.
A piracy bloodbath of Nationhood in martyred demarcation zones.
Cusp of swilling blood of the swill,
Apocalyptic feel, fills,
notes of the unveiling of the Whore who Rides the Beast on the Seven Seas. Leviathan is leavened,
rising, ready to eat.
Now, there is censorship on speech on the internet,
then is, when, is then en-Tyrely.
The Gatekeepers at Fallens keep,
keeping freedom, voices "Crying in the Wilderness"',
Peeps out of reach.
Accept for Government (entities) with algorithms, keyloggers, identity id thieves, imagers of the Beast.
Spell binders binding
their articles-of-New-World-Sourcery-Cheaping-Rumpelstiltskin-Seamstitchery-Tailoring-Truth- blinding-digital-mining-slaves for the Wolves,
Kings of the East, Trading Company.
Trading souls for an hour with the Beast.
My Love
I love you much, my love, therefore I beg you
Give me that which till today, nobody have asked you
Don’t puzzle, I hope, you’ll help me in this regard
Best beloved and well wishers have supplied essentials
Of lovers always if we turn back too pages of history
Don’t worry; I'm not hurting you demanding your life
Your assets, requires you much rather than to me
I don’t care darling what other guys evaluate upon my asking
Because I don’t see more valuable things than that
Which can easily, you can offer me
Even it doesn't hold any cost just some dedications
Which till today no one has dared to offer?
I love you heartily so I want to take stand in this regard
Projecting out as if in the hill some inscriptions in ridges
To draw the attraction of demonstrators
Don’t afraid, I’m not wishing you to make you show piece
To others at you or my cost, you’re my every thing
Why should I believe you in that easy way?
Definitely my intuition invokes me from within
You will offer me that instinct for my pleasure
Cause, I've noticed in your bright appearance
Deliverance of love is in different mode
Your juvenile desiring to oblige somewhere in the custom
I believe, as we are reared in the same village
In the same brink of the river.
Many times we have rained with completely
Our cows and herds also could not differ them
Swollen brooklets have helped us to unite body
Catching in hand hugging you and adding your body with mine
While crossing you know we used to become one
You can guess your feeling would have crossed the height of Himalayas
To understand, what body wants to be done?
Your drowned eyes and dropping down drops of water
Used to provoke effort
Beyond that down through the throat, running paths for drenched water
Was explicitly witness, the curved part would be seizing more for that
As a trunk of elephant’s those beautiful thighs
Used to give witnessing purity ascribe for judgement of love
Slowly, crossing plain, stepping towards hills and
Demarcation of two grassy lanes, when used to welcome
To separate, I know my pinches would cleave you
With high breathe. My love, I love you, I confirmed my decision to you.
Blank page syndrome
feels like full page longing
to be done with some work project
that will not slowly grow worthy
of my time
and certainly no captivated reader.
I feel victimized,
tortured, actually,
by blank page syndrome
Where I want to feel some opening
and rewarding opportunity
and not dull risk
of further unnoticed failure
to richly
and wisely communicate
warm and wild communion.
My blank pages
demand content
spilled across blue horizontal lines
with a red left side vertical
boundary demarcation
Remarking where orderly thought correctly begins
to unfold top left
unfurling cause effectively
sequentially
toward right bottom
Yet Left dominance
overpowers Right feelings prominent
circling and recycling
whirling and spinning
spiraling out of win/win control
re-membering risks
of nontransparent failure
falling brawly short
of both peaceful Truth
and vulnerable Beauty.
Yet a bleakly black blank canvas
with no red
or blue bicameral communion rules
or tools
feels most frightening
intimidating of all
unbalanced
anthro-privileged
vaporous calls
My
"I can't draw,
or sketch,
or paint,
or write,
or sing,
or dance,
or speak out woke"
Can't preach
or teach inside voices
ignoring outside echoing choices
to evoke
childish dreams,
daydream schemes
to become Earth's greatest love
of blank paged warm regard
for how we flew
and walked
and swam
and grew to Here embodied
meets Now compassioned mind
Greatest
deepest
widest
trusted EarthBeauty
dipolar co-arising
all scared yet sacred Time's unfolding
Win/Win regenerative
peaks and valley sand
defining ecstatic
aesthetic lines
refining intimate circling spaces
etched throughout
neuro-systemic elegant
regenerational potential
for healthier lands
Not not synergetic journeys
deeply and widely
back and forth
out and inside
polyculturing communion
While staring at this straight lined
and otherwise white privileged
square-cut manufactured page
Holding my green health hope
and content contented circling pen
praying for worthy expiring
inspiration.
I said comrade to all my colleagues and friends and all of my herds
I thought and said and behaved all equally and fairly
We ate together the same food, we slept together in the same bed
And we read together the same books
And of course we talked, discussed and debated the same topic
With great interests and enthusiasm
All together
It was like my own family
Nothing in me, I hide anything
With all my comrades
It was like one family: living together, dying together
My family was their family and theirs were mine
When I had no chance to dance
There was no line of demarcation to divide
Until we fought together
Revolted together in all activities
We took similar and equal responsibility
When there was no opportunity
For justice, equality and humanity
But until we found our unexpected dream come true
I do not know why I changed
From day one of this dream fulfilled
From day one I was out of the nature
I changed, he changed and they changed
We all changed together
No more comrades
No more similarities
No same bed or breakfast
No same treatment or meeting
No more common issues
Among us, dear comrades of the past
We are separated like a divorced couple
My wife and children became my own comrades
No more other comrades
Who fought together, lived together and ate together
For so many years
But now I forgot the bygone days
But I have my own comrades
My own coterie of comrades
Became my closest of the close friends
Close comrades are better
Than far away comrades
Whatever others say about me
And my comrades, I do not care
As all comrades cannot be equal
Some are certainly more equal than far away
Comrades of different caste, colour, and culture
In this age and time of opportunity
I know the importance of my wife, my daughter and my son
And my close relatives and donors and slave like supporters
My purpose is fulfilled
My dream achieved
So no more comrades unless I need
Your help and support and your backing
If I start to fall down from my post and power
My dear comrades
My dear comrades!
You wanna know sumpin sumpin?!
In the garden of life's relentless seasons,
bloom and wither,
don't ask me, for WHATEVER REASON,
faceted petals fall like molted feather,
turn to moltened Carbonite
if you get the right bearer.
YOU GET ME, miss been self miss-treatin?!
Each moment is a fragile puzzled masterpiece, for reason,
to pick you up in it's pieces and
put you into the big picture.
(Just like your man should be doin!), mm"
"You see, in the Carnival of souls,
"the ocean of wandering orphans",
(each an ingredient, expedient to it's own-
notions- honed- expose ').
Liquid, potions alchemized in the chemistry
of personalitay,
conceived in sonar avatars place-holding for the
"genuine article" for sanctioned interactivity
(in demarcation zones), I must say.
Looks like yours has been crossed on the way!"
In our cult of masks that influence the
wearer to be convinced of true identity as proof in the mirror.
Things cannot be made to be unclearer.
You gotta be yourself baby, shine on, be it what it may!
You know that, a Phantom of the Opera has taken sanctuary in the midst of the scene,
plays on your emotions like aphrodisiac
given a Mati Hari, please!"
That's why she ain't been talking to me!
A trailblazer, that one,
igniting the bloom of your seasons,
igniting strength in the depths of vulnerability,
pregnancy out of the dark tunnel
of winter reclusivity.
Her fertility ritual sparking a coming of age,
and the pairing as a wage.
I may be a muse, but she, she is not only acting in motherhood, baby, she is the stage!
You don't want to miss that show,
I am telling you right now.
Not that anyone does.
She is open for business.
You know what I mean!?
But you see there is a cost.
Feelings are the price of the ticket,
it's dealings skulldug-in-triplicate.
In the abyss of despair, hope lingers,
like a monster, there.
Momma Moon, winks, anytime honey, anytime.
On the one hand, there is a remarkable beauty in watching one entity blend into the environment
of a different entity. On the other hand, there is less
to be appreciated about assimilation if it results in the
destruction, disappearance, or utter annihilation of that entity.
In the world of nature, on one hand, one considers that, of necessity, the sheer
essence of 'survival' is largely at play. On the other hand, in the sociological world of mankind, the blending or assimilation becomes not an 'instinct to survive tool', but rather a remarkable 'melting pot' for advancement in human development.
Whether wall street or boxing ring, we compete and fight to the finish; but we never eat each other; (Well, except for the Holyfield-Tyson fight). On the one hand, there is exhilarating satisfaction to be found when we observe camouflaging in the rain forest or in the kingdom of the wild. But on the other hand, except for the camouflaged soldiers at war, in communities of the civilized, we take exception to those choosing to wear masks or appear to be something they are not.
There is a distinctly different expectation and purpose that require the maintenance and maturity of character. On the one hand, in a civilized society, when such expectancy fails, the lines of demarcation are drawn and defended. On the other hand, in The Serengeti of Tanzania and Kenya,
no one is expected to protect the wildebeests and Zebras from the alligators and crocodiles. There, it is the natural state of things; lines are not drawn and neither required nor desired.
08062017TGPSContest, Late Summer Standard, Brian Strand
After the election,
at least two things will continue without interruption: death and taxation.
After the election,
two kinds of people, the rich and the poor, will remain without interruption.
After the election,
I will continue to pray, to go to church, and keep writing new poems and stories.
After the election,
I'm not going to cry, worry, or fret over bad news or old stories.
After the election,
whether by mail, the internet, or bank drafts, bills will be due without hesitation.
After the election,
Airlines, hotels, and car rentals, will still expect us to make a reservation.
After the election,
College tuition will not be free, but young people will continue their education.
After the election,
Both winners and losers will continue their complaints and frustrations.
After the election, there will be less affection, but it’s unlikely there will be any defection.
After the election,
States will remain united, and none will decide to declare secession.
Although, after the election,
it’s possible there might be some new revelations.
However, after the election,
‘Trust me’, no Politian is likely to face any incarceration.
After the election,
The politicians will continue going in different directions.
After the election,
some will lick their wounds while others will have a celebration.
After the election,
Neither party will be any closer to perfection.
After the election,
No American soil will show lines of demarcation.
After the election,
There’ll be no need for ex-candidates to have better protection.
And finally, after the election, while Politicians will appear to be problem-solving, citizens will continue their own problem-solving without hesitation. 11032018 PS Contest, After The Election, Kim Rodriques
Third Reign:
Her feeding heart and cold command
Enough to make you quit your band
Well, there’s only so much frostbite one can take
You’ve heard her bitter orders before
To leave your sandals outside her door
And go skating on the Ice Queen’s lonely lake
I’d save all my lovin’ for you
If only I knew what you would do:
Let me loose or condemn me at your frozen stake
I’d be a martyr if I could
And stand where the burning saints have stood
On the altar of wood by the Ice Queen’s lonely lake
It’s like a prison in this room
With the cigarettes and hot perfume
Something’s got to thaw out our mistakes
But I feel like a fish in a waterfall
One of these days, I’ll sprout legs and crawl
Away from the banks of the Ice Queen’s lonely lake
We’ve been up all night on this powdery binge
I can still smell the lust that the wind drags in
It’s the only habit I’ve got that’s worthy to break
We could check into rehab and seal the deal
And feel what the super-celebrities feel
Or turn the wheel straight into the Ice Queen’s lonely lake
Her reindeer are bridled; her peasants are gauche
They are starving in line: she offers brioche
But winning their naïve trust is a piece of cake
They’d float to Alaska to polish her nails
Come back bloodied and tied to her sails
Back from a crusade on the Ice Queen’s lonely lake
The bar of demarcation is set
Once etched in the earth, it’s hard to forget
So stand where the poor young Confederates once did shake
When our scorched-earth policies have failed
And your Mason-Dixon address gets no mail,
Just surrender yourself to the Ice Queen’s lonely lake
From Sierra Madre to Branson, Missouri
A blizzard is coming, she’s showing her fury
to you – this is no false alarm, no fake;
Like the perfect conquest of the abortion pill,
like the simple saga of Jack and J---,
It’s a cold moment till the Ice Queen’s lonely lake.
Take care of her
Keeping toes and ties off the ground
Beware of those with savage intent
To draw her down
Beware those of quisling heart
Who seek only to pillage then plunder her
All those faces leering, cajoling, jeering then cheering
Distant recollections surface
Unwinding their purpose
A catalogue of misadventure
THEIR venom put upon YOU
As they race towards their judgmental conclusions
Rabid and acrid
Hypocritical bigotisms abound
Calling a DIAMOND, when a spade is just a spade.
Cathartic embolisms hold ears to ground
THIS wins NO points
Brings NO praise
Wears NO crown
The caterwauling of corruption
Casting dispersions, then claiming coercion
An aberration distilled down to its basest most repugnant desires
Wanton ADORATION to feed that nepotistic idolatry
The equivocation, The skullduggery
The pettifoggery, the subterfuge,
The pontification, The verascification
Dealt to all in attendance.
With all its scheming, and shifting and sideways leaning
The chicanery of blackest soul
Whose demarcation is bound by and to, those most easily bled, those most easily misled.
The ebb and flow of the waves coming and going
As they plead and pine
Quickly now, retreating
A slender pole with simple cord, is slowly dressed in
Her Red White and Blue
A bit tattered
A bit torn
Threadbare and Worn
Holds a message of SACRIFICE , of DUTY, of HONOR
OF HER TRUTHS PROMISED.
HER emancipated can bare no more system wide degradations.
The indignities cast upon her by those who hold the keys to HER hallowed halls, TIGHT to their chests
Allowing NOT
The promise of a justice blind, impartial, dealt with even hand over all her land.
We pledge to HER our loyalty, not one man
We pledge to HER as ONE country United beneath her splendor
A PLEDGE of Love for her and to one another.