Long Dependent Poems
Long Dependent Poems. Below are the most popular long Dependent by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dependent poems by poem length and keyword.
Except My Hugs
Written by D. W. Breidenthal
You think everything's passionate and sincere
Except my letters, texts and hugs
You think cats are warm and friendly
You think dogs are dependent and full of positivity and vitality
Except my heart, kisses and hugs
Oh, how it bugs me to death
I can smell a stench of lies in your breath
You're lying to yourself - last one to lie is a rotten egg... I guess you are the creator of lies
(it's in your insidious nature...don't feed me lies now)
You appreciate your friends and family and you love their rare embrace
Except my hugs (and that really bugs me to death)
You think everywhere's a place of rest...
Except my shoulders...except my fatigued hugs (tired of not hugging you another day)
You think you are the best out of the rest...but I'll try my best (to think not dismay...not to sink in disarray)
To not be infuriated by you...
Though you accepted people's gifts
Except my hugs...you refused them...long ago...(and that really bugs me to death)
You're heart's as hard as boulders...where's your prudent glow?
Who knows...
Where your twisted wind blows
Only you know...you're as dark
As a midnight crow...
Cawing before the dawn...
And yet, I must drive on...
Must move on with life...(now that's a big must)
Though I'm living with unbearable, vexing strife
(my family tells me to wipe off the dust
Off my boots and bust
Some moves...just cause I don't want my dancing skills to rust)
Oh, how your pride drives me up the walls
Graze in your own maze... (It means"mind your business" - get my drift) You never answered my calls
(I won't offer you a lift and ill just watch you drift...
Away on a ship...with a small rift.
Hah!)
I'll watch you fall
And laugh at your calamity
Hah!
Because you thought
Everything made you feel like you belonged
Except my hugs
Except my hugs
Except my hugs (and that really bugs me to death)
('Sorry' won't cover it - now that really does bug me to death)
You made me draw my last breath...
And I felt like I kissed death...
Literally
Just accept my hugs
But you loved everone and everything,
But my bear hugs. . .
Except my hugs...
Accept my hugs...
I beg of you
Why do you make me
blush blue?
I guess I'm left with 2 mugs
"Let me have a refill of bear please?"
Asked James Dunk.
Maybe a shouldah prayed on my knees, thought he...thought he...now he regrets getting drunk.
Early/mid afternoon May 22nd, 2020...
Raindrops percolate Perkiomen Valley watershed
pleasant reprieve versus quite warm temperatures
yesterday found yours truly averse attempting re:
ding outside, the secluded alcove visible looking
thru single bedroom window here, once upon time
former Schwenksville Elementary School, now re:
purposed Highland Manor apartment alphanumeric
unit B44, 2day precipitation lightly palpitating terra
firma quenching thirsty flora and fauna donning viz
age fifty plus shades of lush green meteorological
regular phenomena offsets prospect where drought
would deprive biota requisite liquid nourishment
speculation June, July, and August promise triple
digits essentially forcing creature comfort ala air
conditioning as climate control to weather extreme
hot temperatures linkedin with global warming, a
grim prospect lately tempered courtesy coronavirus
COVID-19 inexplicably temporarily giving respite
the Earth atmosphere purportedly less toxic since
countless manifold modes of industrial production
lockdown subjected since employees in quarantine
to thwart contagion infecting adjacent areas, thus
impacting transportation hub, no substantial traffic
most rerouted thru information superhighway data
bits and bytes sent to and fro, hither and yon, until
"green light" signalled for businesses to reorient
themselves to alternate paradigm, hoop fully more
eco friendly less dependent upon fossil fuels, where
greenhouse gases deplete ozone layer compromising
delicate balance offset severely trending toward by
Yoda - star wars pitched battles witnessing galactic
empires armed 2 teeth with supersonic weapons mass
destruction spelling demise of human civilization
think brinkmanship whereby within eyeblink en-
tire realm encompassing eastern, western, northern
southern, brethren and cistern multifarious legacies
snuffed out without a trace extinguishing gamut of
living things great and small, perchance world wide
web overtaken with radiation resistant critters, an
unrecognizable changing of the guard when no pry
mates abled (Cain not) wrest control against giant
size carnivorous entities deliciously feast carrion
until nothing but lovely bleached (bomb shelled)
bones scattered across the pock marked terrestrial
landscape - mush room 4 opportunistic organisms.
Above ,
sitting atop a crested hill
solitary , but nary lonely
Agemo is what he answer's too
but question is alway's on his mind
His twin , Ahpla , calls him a dreamer
Agemo has grown to expect this
considering Ahpla's domineering demeanor
alway's suggestive to take without quarter
not understanding his brother's nature
how Agemo recieves more satisfaction giving
being there for the rest of the pack
helping to create a pleasant atmosphere
Ahpla's role as a tough , no-nonsense
protector , can show no weakness
he love's his brother Agemo
but at time's detest his obvious softness
But the pair with it's conflicting opposites
has found a way to oversee
those dependent on their intelligence
stern at times , yet comforting
Right now though ,
Agemo continues to watch
the rise of the moon's daily journey
wondering what tomorrow will bring.....
Ahpla and his twin brother Agemo
are the proud protector's
of a land called " Laskrizon "
a lush mountainous valley
nestled northwest by southwest
in the western hemisphere
Hidden to most , known only to few
legend tell's it , that Laskrizon
is a famed combination , called so
considering it's the last lacrimal horizon
the final portal , the last vestibule
where Nature hope's , and other's wait
uncertainty weigh's heavy here
The pack are guardian's of a secret
holders , protector's of a treasured jewel
only knowing , a time will come
the unknowing stirs an unease
but the honor bestowed keeps steady
Alway's a watchful eye to the sky
never was told what to look for
they believe they'll know ,
when the time arrives
anxiously awaiting
fortitude a definite calling here
The jewel is a stone
more so , a rough corpus
a veiny mass ,
crystalized in time from space
some have called it a seed from heaven
in the land of the two-legged
it's been called many names
grail stone , philosophers stone
even the water stone of the wise
All the pack knows
is to protect at all cost's
lest it falls into dire grips
The stone's purpose is unknown
easily overlooked at first glance
closer inspection reveals it's uniqueness
only under the light of the sun
distinct golden specks and threads
glorious in it's smallness , yet
simulating a galaxy of stars
with the spiral wynd of veins
a frozen beauty...........
( to be continued....)
“The World’s Playground”
"Ring around the roses. Ring around the roses".
Jack the ripper, he slept with a whore, and became deadly ill
Awhile his wife Jill became suicidal dependent on the Prozac pill
Mother Goose lost all four of her children it was easy to ignore.
She was too busy being a **** star it was hardcore.
One had his brains fried. One died from electric shock.
One survived to an infant to be killed on the block
Last became involved in gambling, a financial debt he can’t pay
The mob sent the goose a bleeding red box saying happy birthday.
Welcome to our playground. The world is such a joy.
Every girl and every boy is a playgirl or playboy.
We have candy, video games, lollipop, and teens
We have Drugs, sex, alcohol, slaves, and atm machines
By raising the right hand shouting upon the witness stand
This is zappy land, this is zippy land, this is the zingy land.
Sparrow and Fly killed Cock Robin with a ball and chain
In a black pond the fish devoured the bird’s brains
Old Grandma once had delicious pie the night when Crow Man came.
She then had two children who took her life’s blame.
Hansel became a business man who took people’s homes.
Baba Yaga pimped Gretel on the streets of Rome.
Hansel lost his control. He cooked his old hag.
Gretel was cut opened killed by a douchbag.
“Girls and boys, come out to play,
The [stars] doth shine as bright as day;”
Leave your families, don’t be discreet,
“And come with your [fellows] into the street.”
Little children holding hands, "ring around the rosy".
Children dancing gleefully "with pockets full of posies".
Happily they burn the days away. "Ashes, ashes".
Going through life, "we all fall down".
Welcome to our playground. The world is such a joy.
Every girl and every boy is a playgirl or playboy.
We have candy, video games, lollipop, and teens
We have Drugs, sex, alcohol, slaves and atm machines
This is happy land, this is happy land, this is happy land.
Welcome to our playground. The world is such a joy.
Every girl and every boy is a Playgirl or playboy.
We have candy, video games, lollipop, and teens
We have Drugs, sex, alcohol, slaves, and atm machines
This is happy land, this is happy land, this is happy land.
This is the place to be.
"Ashes. Ashes. We all fall down".
Form:
O' it's written in books and songs,
That we've been mistreated and wronged;
Well, over and over . . . .
Buffy St. Marie
As storm clouds rumbled in the sky
and thunder clapped giant hands another child was buried
just another cluster suicide death
she was ten years old . . .
First Nation peoples of Canada live in all parts noted on charts
some in places isolated
where fruit, vegetables and milk is expensive
limited, and of poor quality
housing is inadequate and in need of repair
full of mold, and bug infested where babies die
some have no water or contaminated water
some have no heat or meat
sad when you think Canada was THEIR land
(o' we are restless and discontent, dissatisfied and want better)
but in the early history of this fine country
they where hunted, killed, starved and unwanted
and herded into reservations
into submission, becoming dependent and in time gone their
resplendent culture . . . but still proud and strong
shame on the government of Canada willing to accept refugees
putting them in nice hotel rooms and finding them housing
when we have people living in horrible poverty conditions
shame, shame on you Mr. Prime Minister
in my solitude and musing
I imagine a warrior on a high cliff looking at a vast land
he sits proud under a dark cloud
such is the shame as Canada is a wealthy and healthy
country and the needs of the First Nation go on and on . . .
these are truly invisible people
today the government is working to right the wrongs
some say too little . . .
I can see a canoe's drifting beneath a limitless sparkling blue sky
and fish are jumping and leaping
then, my vision fades into an internal night
and another child is buried because of no hope
the PEOPLE are discontent and restless . . .
__________________
March 30, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/The Invisible People
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1008-937-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
What a city I murmur to myself looking at its map.
We approached the city known as Dis,
with its vast army and its burdened citizens.
At last we reached the moats
dug deep around the dismal city.
What destroys the poetry of a city?
Automobiles destroy it,
and they destroy more than the poetry.
Dante and Virgil chased by 7 or 8 dangerous devils
Grumpy, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Dopey . . .
Our heroes reduced from metaphysical philosophers
interested in god and what man has done to man
to improvising primitive tools for survival.
Hope abandoned, we rate our chances of expiring
in the nuclear fire – excellent –
during the decline of western civilization.
On the other hand, I hope
our current problems are only temporary
and it’s just a matter of time before
the public ignores the 24-hour news cycle.
Bad news sells but the good life’s all around us.
One feels love and devotion
even for the 60 million who voted for our opponent.
Vaclav Havel said with a wisdom well beyond brilliance:
“Either we have hope within us or we don’t.
It is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not dependent
on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation.
It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart
that transcends the world as it’s immediately experienced.
It is not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense
no matter how it turns out.”
It resembles grief. But it's not quite grief. I'll give you grief.
Certain days planned to be eventful I look forward to for weeks.
Let the peaceful transfer of power proceed. The sorrow and the pity.
Never may the anarchic man find rest at my hearth.
When the laws are kept, how proudly the city stands!
When the laws are broken, what of the city then?
We are moving through some allegory between a City of Hope,
where history has been abolished, and a City of History,
where hope can be slipped in only as contraband.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching
outer space for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.
Two ancient female poets are a revelation,
the clarity of their complaints: lost lover, lost city.
Our enemy eventually becomes our brother,
his misery lifted by coming to her city.
A human anti-neuronal autoantibody against GABAB receptor induces experimental autoimmune agrypnia
Article (PDF Available) in Experimental Neurology 204(2):808-18 · May 2007 with 63 Reads
DOI: 10.1016/j.expneurol.2007.01.012 · Source: PubMed
1st Giovanni Frisullo
37.12 · Catholic University of the Sacred Heart
2nd Giacomo Della Marca
43.12 · Catholic University of the Sacred Heart
+ 5
3rd Massimiliano Mirabella
41.45 · Catholic University of the Sacred Heart
Last Anna Paola Batocchi
Show more authors
Abstract
In the serum and cerebrospinal fluid of a patient with recurrent acute episodes of respiratory crises, autonomic symptoms and total insomnia (agrypnia), we identified a novel anti-neural complement fixing antibody directed against GABA(B) receptor (GABA(B)R). Patient purified IgG recognized a band of approximately 110 kDa on protein extracts of mouse cerebellum, cortex and brainstem and immunolabelled cultured Chinese hamster ovary (CHO) cells, transfected with human GABA(B)R1 and rat GABA(B)R2 receptors. Western blot analysis of transfected CHO homogenates showed the same band using both patient purified IgG and anti-GABA(B)R1 antibody. In order to verify the pathogenic role of these purified antibodies, we injected patient IgG intrathecally into cisterna magna of C57BL/6 mice pre-implanted with EEG electrodes and we observed severe ataxia followed by breathing depression and total suppression of slow wave sleep, as evidenced by EEG recording, in a dose-dependent manner. Immunohistochemistry on brain sections of mice injected with patient IgG showed the simultaneous presence of bound human IgG and C5b-9 deposits on Purkinje cells and cerebellar granular layer. After incubation with anti-GABA(B)R antibody, a marked reduction of receptor immunostaining was found with relative sparing of neuronal architecture. In conclusion we recognized an anti-neuronal autoantibody directed against GABA(B)R that is associated with autoimmune agrypnia and we showed that our patient purified IgG was able to induce in mice experimental autoimmune agrypnia characterized by a complex neurological syndrome affecting several CNS functions.
Discover the world's research
11+ million members
100+ million publications
100k+ research projects
Join for free
Form:
Sunday afternoon my grandmother decided to take me down with her to the memory lane.
She seemed excited like a child traveling first time on an aeroplane.
"Those were the days,
when everything was fresh and pure,
these artificial appetizers I can no longer endure."
My grandmother is seventy three,
talking about her childhood filled her with glee.
Then she told me they were five siblings,
the elders decided to not send the girls to school because what they will do by learning the table of two.
"This was the norm my dear,"
she tried to explain,
I disapproved and showed my disdain.
I know how much she loved studying .
If only she had got a chance.
Her happy memories made me go into a state of trance.
She spoke about her aunt who lost her husband when she was sixteen,
she was forced to wear white and if there was an auspicious event in the house she was never to be seen.
She spoke about all of this without any emotions,
while her talks ignited inside me an explosion.
How could I think those days were good,
when women were dependent on men for basic needs like food.
God forbid if your husband died,
you were a liability who always complied.
My grandmother told me about this one woman,
whose husband left her and her three kids to fend for themselves.
It was god's decision my grandmother told,
my thoughts I could no longer hold.
Grandma,
"It was never god's decision for those kids to have such a miserable life or that woman to strive hard to survive.
It was the decision of the society as a whole,
to cripple every women and break their soul.
No education,no hobbies only bearing kids was their duty,
if your husband is nice good luck or the biggest curse of your life will be your own beauty."
"God never told that widows were supposed to stay inside,
or to shave their head and to never walk outside at night."
She smiled at me and told me I was right,
she was glad that today girls are given opportunities and that my future looks bright.
Her talks made me rethink,
were the good old days really so good?
The time when women were denied basic rights,
women who waited and waited but were never rescued by the proverbial knight.
Date:19/10/21
Contest: Difference in Opinion poetry contest
Sponsor : Shreya LN
1. Surface,
respect,
and record current health beliefs,
valid and invalid,
useless and useful.
2. Ask "Do these mental models help us make the health we want
right now?"
Are they optimally effective,
integral,
mutually resonant?
3. Stimulate alternative,
diverse,
polypathic views about health experience past,
present,
future projected.
4. Develop a wealthy vision of what communion you want now
by integrating mental health models
supporting optimal future wealth
of cooperativity--
mental and physical,
spiritual and natural,
emotional and rational,
inductive and deductive,
theological and ecological.
5. Conduct, and learn from,
health dependent/wealth independent experiments,
competitive Win/Lose
Cause/Effect research,
and health-primary/wealth-secondary value maps
cooperative Win/Win cause-effect models
surfacing health/wealth intent,
respecting secular/sacred practices--
cooperative
transparent
vulnerable
intimate empowering communication strings
ego/eco-enlightening.
Extra health/wealth credits:
Invest year-end time revisiting validity
and utility
of personal
and familial identity models.
During Christmas Dinner,
Who are you?
Who are we together and apart,
both healthy and not quite so much?
What are the most significant secular and sacred events
of your life, so far?
Which of these ecstatically happened to you
more than you carefully planned to facilitate their unfolding?
And which unveiled themselves
enchantingly vice versa,
planned by self with others
for your mutually wealthy nutritional experience?
And which seem to transcend any competing,
distinguishable ecstatic Source,
sacred or otherwise?
What future plans do you expect to implement
on behalf of your self
and other's healthy wealth
of significant cooperative developing futures?
For compassion,
wealth of nutritional wisdom
mutually given and received.
What communion of healthy friendship do you most anticipate
with all EarthTribes,
all ZeroZone Souls past,
and not yet born,
and not yet full health reborn,
not at all unlike your enchanting healthcare optimizing self?
Journeying into love as non-competing
non-violent peace
fulfilling healthy secular/sacred
left/right bicameral holonic integrity.
Nature made convenient sluice,
when pool water did wend
down the gentle slope
describing gargantuan wetsuit vend
er steadily chugging, chiseling,
and channeling straight away
blindly coursing upend
ding (mankind imposed)
property boundaries demarcations tend
with futile diligence,
asper the whimsical barenaked lady's
propensities, viz mother nature
made short shrift send
ding hours of surveyor labor down
into the behavioral sink also rend
ding inhabitants within the flood plain
to vacate premises and return,
when storm didst abate
comically shaking angry fist
at darkening non sheltering sky -
faux imitating to berate
meteorological processes
many complex systems create
the downpour seemingly
appearing (to me) rainier date
then years gone by scattershot memories,
(which figurative, somewhat unreliable
yardstick of boyhood) did equate
climate affecting
Southeastern Montgomery, Pennsylvania,
registering *****sapiens ultimate fate
burgeoning population, which impact great enough
for this lix spittle country bumpkin to ejaculate
(not prematurely) Hawaii hate
to reckon my environmental impact doth irritate
fragile ecosystems, and
holistic lifestyle aye would trade
(hint...mebbe ya know
of eco-centric intentional communities)
even (yes absolutely)
necessitating sweat of brow spade
work agreeable to this sometime joker
renting from management Grosse and Quade,
who primarily bolster increasing monies to get paid,
perhaps partnership incorporates hiring maid
service for their own households,
no doubt beds get properly made
yet, this regular John Doe (dependent on
social security disability because
debilitating panic attacks undermined
ability to function found (yours truly) laid
up (prior to acquiescing strong suggestions
to accept prescription medication), where grade
to cope much less steep, plus un huff frayed,
now rowing tha old skiff to destination
for to long not fostered and delayed
(christened matthew scott harris) to feign charade
nod duh so merrily lee down the time stream.