Long Dependency Poems
Long Dependency Poems. Below are the most popular long Dependency by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dependency poems by poem length and keyword.
Ever since I was a kid in college
something troubling has been on my mind,
put evolution near morality
and many contradictions you will find.
Our instincts versus our sentience,
blood programming pit against free choice,
and now matter how I looked at it all,
there were hard truths that I could not avoid.
That so many things we think are moral
give us no evolutionary edge,
that the only place some virtues work
is in the world that’s inside our head.
The nice guy always does seem to finish last,
functional bullies get all of the girls;
men are not loved unconditionally,
only for what we bring to the world.
We like to think we can talk it all out,
but sometimes people do need a smack;
we study hard to make things better,
then just get farther and farther off-track.
We give to help those people in need,
then it just ends in dependency,
so many thinks that we think must be right
just seem to deepen the tragedy.
The things that we think, the things that we feel,
seem to drag us all until we’re insane,
what we want to build, and what the world allows,
are not exactly one and the same.
When I realized this, and other such things,
I spent many years just trying to think
of why evolution would produce a beast
whose brain would contradict its own instincts?
Why can we think of things that can never be?
what good are goals we can never achieve?
It seems like we’ve been set up for failure,
there had to be some reason, I believed.
For those reasons I chose biology,
got a professorship and did research,
probed deeply into the depths of the mind,
won countless accolades for my work.
Ran across endless theories of why
we contradict ourselves at such cost,
but every bit solved brought ten new questions,
all that toil, and I was still at a loss.
But the need to know remained every strong,
and though it nearly cost me my career,
I started probing the faiths of the world
to see what older wisdom might appear.
Though they have their flaws that one must wade through,
and their practitioner so very human,
they also retain time-tested ideas,
that have proved their use again and again.
I focused on the archaeologists,
combing over lost texts and old sites,
and at first it seemed I was stymied again,
until I got a phone call late one night…
CONTINUES IS PART II.
He was casting lots determining the will of God
And holy times in mid Eastern Bible times
Allocating lands, determining duties, assigning guilt
Select the individuals for responsibilities
Cleromancy
Cleromancy
He was casting lots, casting lots
Cleromancy
Is it modern day man's comfort in psychology
A materialistic dependency leading him to clemency
Or is it a form and fashion of idolatry
Cast out lots let's say so humble spirits where in heart buy into something dig up evil
this we must not negative modern day cleromancy casting lots?
5/19/08
Written words by Carmen Lee Brown Lee & James Edward Lee Sr © 2008-2022
Some say love makes the world go round
I say it is oil that makes the world go round
The thing that is in everything
from plastics to fuel is how it does rule
so given this thought here is your opportunity
to have your say in a different way
Where’s your stand on the Keystone pipeline
moving dirty Alberta oil from Canada to Texas
Or fracking that shakes the earth
and plays with the water table
how about drilling in national parks
and protected wetlands or in oceans and seas
the carbon footprint that fossil fuels leave
and our slavery to BIG oil and high gas prices
but what of the flip side
the oil cartels called OPEC alongside Mr. Putin
does the blackmailing by the few
through oil dependency offset the risks
that is the question to be answered
Andreas Simic©
Poetry is a drug, mixed in the alchemy of the night,
An elixir of never-ending dreams, the bitter drink of wandering souls,
Poured into the empty goblets of thirsty minds,
And it flows, softly, through the veins carrying the sap of unspoken desires,
A sweet poison that opens gates to hidden worlds.
With every swallowed word, I lose myself in the endless labyrinth,
Where words are torches burning in the hand of time,
Illuminating dark paths where my steps hesitate,
And discovering in the depths, forgotten treasures of love and yearning,
The remnants of battles between dream and reality, between sky and cloud.
In smokey dreams, I let myself be carried by the turbulent rhymes,
That float on murky waters, ink butterflies in their evening flight,
They carry me toward horizons where stars write poems on the celestial vault,
And the moon, the great poetess, pours her silver over seas of unclear thoughts,
Embracing lost souls in eternal poetry, where everything begins and ends.
But, oh, how bitter is the withdrawal when the ink dries up,
And the letters melt into the night, leaving behind only the shadows of silence,
In those moments, my soul breaks, searching for a way back
To that endless ocean of words, where poetry is the drug that keeps me alive,
And in each verse, I find salvation, a lighthouse in the night, guiding me to dawn's light.
Thus, I let myself be caught again in her enchantment, this sacred dependency,
Poetry - my panacea and my curse, the magic that weaves me into a web of dreams,
Where every word is a falling star, and every verse, a new world,
A refuge from reality, where I can fly, fall, be reborn,
In an infinite journey, where poetry is the drug that fuels my soul.
When 'Faith' is naive,
It hurts and is void of wholeness
It pretends to, but doesn't heal
When 'Faith' is naive,
It refuses to search and question
It offers what it cannot deliver
When 'Faith' is naive,
It promises power and prosperity
It does not prize common sense
When 'Faith' is naive,
It does not promote examination
It poses a position of strength
When 'Faith' is naive,
It borrows from multiple religions
It produces dependency and weakness
When 'Faith' is naive,
It blinds the brain
and binds the soul
When 'Faith' is naive,
Beware the origin of its conception
Resist the power of its deception
When 'Faith' is naive,
It is empty of valuable substance
It is filled with desire and disappointment
You ever had a neighbor, a friend, a family member or somebody that always wanna know if “you got?”
You got $5.00 til Friday, you got milk, you got some soap powder, you got a egg, you got cooking oil, you got some plies I can use, you got a lawn mower, you got 2 slices of bread I can borrow… Borrow?
I can borrow yo car? I can use yo phone? You can watch my lil boy til I come back? I can borrow yo curling iron?I can wash my clothes by yo house? I can use yo wifi password…
No, no, no and NO, so stop asking.
But just imagine, all those “You Gots” be from the same person.
Now mind you, it's okay to borrow from time to time. I'm not saying nothing is wrong with that, because I have had to borrow too at one time or another, it just wasn't every day, all day.
But why should they go out and get it for themselves if they know they can always get it from you?
It's okay to be giving, nice and helpful to people, but at what point does it turns to dependency and expectation, where the person depends on you and EXPECTS you to have and give every time they ask? And ask yourself, are you enabling this behavior?
Rainbow Nation
Blanca is white like beautiful snow in the Drakensberg Mountains
she snorted star powder past the perforated septum into her brain
Black as coal from the underworld mines in Mpumalanga Melanie
had her stomach pumped and purged while sleeping off darkness
Amber is coloured mixed race in the Rainbow of Nations her work
still paid in dop cheap vine that slaves her away in alcoholic trance
Arnav of Indian descent was hooked on dagga grown by the ocean
converted to heroin sold her frail body and skin for brown liquid sugar
Jacobus Bandele Lungelo and Bhavin shared needles and comfort
on the streets of Johannesburg flirted with disaster drug related crime
and their dealers cracked at the dawn longed for dust in the dusk
Drugs do not respect colour gender ability social class and religion
all druggies are equal with craving dependency not restricted to some
Now united in rehab like the state of the nation they all stood at the
table of mountains with one foot in the grave at the cliff face of habit
One day at the moment they now battle their demons resist the temptation
for only the time being from one morning away from the devious mourning
one drug line not taken one fall off the wagon shunned and avoided for now
They have all chased the dragon for far too long and imbibed with the devil
for so many wretched days and nights of delusion torment addiction and pain
Again once more each day anew their only chance to abstain one day at the time
A broken bird repeatedly tries
to leap into the wind to fly away
only to have its freedom denied.
Desperate, it forcefully flaps its wings,
propelling itself to sever the string
that tethers it down to earth...
but is continually shedding its feathers
And no one is around to see it struggle,
no one to cut the string binding its legs.
If only this songbird could speak,
it'd tell any soul in sight its true plight
This helpless bird, a lonely woman...
trapped with man she doesn't love,
and vice versa. She longs to fly
the coop and finally taste the open air
but is tethered to controlling husband
with money to burn; she cursed
by financial dependency.
Date written and submitted: 08/22/2019
I seek deep truth at half past-twelve,
But find it hiding in the skokiaan again. (1)
IDA sighs again,'' know thy ale''. (3)
Phuza Face orders a second pail (2)
By dawn I've solved life's mystery grim
Its mostly froth with little brim.
So drink Majwalis,and think no more. (4)
The mind's a map,the heart
Explanation of a Pub Crawler's Philosophical terms and names
Skokiaan-an illicit home-brewed alcoholic drink made from yeast,sugar and water.Usually its consumption leads to loss of wallet,teeth,wife and kids.Devotees are especially not fond of water and general cleanliness.A nice smell
IDA- means I Drink All.This is said by someone who never buys you drink/alcohol.
Phuza Face- is a colloquial term for the physical effects of heavy or long term drinking resulting in which leads to swelling,puffiness,redness of the face,dark circles under the eyes.
Majwalis-He who is devotee of alcohol and alcoholism who drink himself to death and beyond.Usually a cheque collector. Has a phobia of not reporting for duty on Monday and Friday.
We live in a world
Where all things are moving
Where nothing halts
Where nothing turns back
Where all that it is is noise
We live in a world
Broken souls grace the streets
Hopeless lives is all that it is
Drive for money consumes minds
Shuttered dreams we walk on
We live in a world
Where cruelty is honoured
Where mercy is a suicide plea
Where love is a trashed word
Where pain is someone's cup of tea
We live in a world
Death is a wake up call
A call that requires a heart that listens
Listening is out of the context
Words wind washed
We live in a world
Religion is all that is
Routine is walking to church every Sunday
No growth,no grace,no glory
Jumping when the instruments are played
Clapping when asked to
Out of habit it is
We live in a world
Dependency has taken root
Financial literacy is foreign
Life is a hustle they all say
Daughters taught to not try hard
''It's a taboo for you to be highly educated
You must clean the dishes
You have to cook
You can't wear that
Dresses at floor length
Your hair done once a year
All in the name of ''wife material''
Sons taught '' I pay the bills i make the rules ''
It's a screwed nation
Devoid of pity
Ripped of mercy
Backwardness clouds their thoughts
Reprimands point all to revolutionists
Till when?
_kathomz??