Long Deposits Poems
Long Deposits Poems. Below are the most popular long Deposits by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deposits poems by poem length and keyword.
I table these possible actions.' The U K is a h20 wealthy
Country..' So use that
As a strength..'Seal up the old coal mines, and
Re-purpose them to store rainwater, as the age of hydrogen
is beginning its dawn..' And it will be an invaluble asset to
Make the moist of, ((LOL)) industrial plants could also be located
At these
Catchement points to carry out the works of creating the
Transformatin processes, which would aleviate joblessness'
The ample supply would also be able to address any
Short term drought events, and residual coal dust deposits
Could be mixed with earth to enrich any nearby agricultural land
I see this as a good use of available commoditys and it
May allieviate the need for nuclear power plants to an extent? All this would be much kinder to the ecology also.'
In my humble opinion.'
Catch and store my energy,
said Yang-Sun to Earth-Yin.
Digest and absorb nutritional communication,
said Earth
to Virgin Eve
to Fertile Adam.
Volcanize and subduct Earth's embryonic Commons
says Mother Earth
to ReGenerative Ecologists.
Challenge and then creolize resulting multicultures
say EcoPolitical Democratizers
to TrustBuilding Psychologizers.
Deduce separate competing
physical individuations
to induce integrating cooperative
metaphysical relationships
said LeftCerebral Crown
to Right ElderRoot
bipartisan NeuroSystem.
Consume stored wealth deposits
to produce capital-health learnings
through re-investment in further nurture earnings
say long-winded Cooperative Economists
to short-winded Private Wealth
seeks Public Health Professionals.
Patriarch-led revolutions
retrofit Matriarch-bled evolutions
said Yang answers
to co-revolving Yin questions.
Produce positive regenerators
not disinvested degenerators
say Syncretic Prophets
to and for and of and within BiCameral PolyPaths.
Reconnect Yang/Yin appositions
to co-arise Win/Win ego/eco-generate
dialectical Left/Right non-oppositionals
said Laotse
for cooperatively governing resilient climate health,
and not DNA v RNA struggling pathologies.
Catch and digest health
to store and re-invest wealth
said Yang-FatherSun
to EarthMother-Yin
and reverse dispassionate communication
again.
What you say to a cat what a cat thinks
I want to lick everything you look at everything there’s nothing over there for you that’s a bookshelf I know you think you could jump up that’s a picture where are you going turn around. Mz tail talks be nice to the Chihuahua? He eatz my foodz my litter deposits. You see me not bop him I swat him run. You barfed on my sheets, not on that! Knock it off! Don’t please don't knock it on to the floor... Knock off... Hey, earbuds not toys for the fur babies! To play with? Here a toy for fur child... no NO! Fuxkoff! Death to earbuds, shoo laces see, I eat these, I’z kills your string, see string kill string, kills fuzzy things! Stop licking your butt! Licking, kicking, l stop biting, booping I’z poop them out, ouch! In box go. I found something in the litter box, know not what that is? Dear God! After you play with my earbuds… NO! Kitty! Kitty? Gotta hack up hair balls! Lick balls, I keep clean. I leave presents, a thang, l kill for you! Don’t you like? No? Go a way! ICK! Gotta clean up, why? My pillow what do you want? Attention? Is that what you want? Is that what…why? You’re bugging the f-out of me! Treats? Fluffy nuts! Stop licking those things… What are you? …I’z not a dog. Scratching! Eat it? Fleas get off! Scratching… That, oh… don’t touch!? NO! Damn! You Too. Hey get off! There mez running at 2am chasing, Mousees! Noisees! Gotta kill! Hunt! l’mz the predator! Part of that wont stop. What are you up, too! Don’t hit that! Stop knocking things off the shelf! You know what time is it itz 5 am feed me huumenz!
1/22/16
Always negative
Is not a good way to live
Be positive
And think cognitive
Don't speak derogative
Because that is preposterous
Considering that there will always be contrast and opposites
Across areas full of rocks having traces of phosphorous
And nearby deposits with onyxes
As well as places that have ostriches, hippopatamus
And rhinoceros
Or wherever it may be in all honestness
Across the continents
One thing it seems we all have common is
That we are members of a group labeleled Hominin
If you make and break the promises
Accept and face the consequences
Always be yourself and have confidence
But not to the point of obnoxiousness
I got to work harder for opulence
Because I want to help friends, family and the populace
With or without pairs of moccasins
All along the grid
No longer want to have any of my pockets thin
Got to bulk it up, going at a speed faster than any known rockets did
There was some wrong I did
But I wanted to make it right, and did not want to fib
Make it to the very top and grin
Near hawks, and anything else that walks and lives
By: Dalton Ogletree
ORIGINS
I
It began in the dank basement of the Thallasic column
steeped in abyssal brine of a thousand supernovae
so much alchemic sludge churned up, expelled by the co-tidal vice into the epeiric sea
A million points of organic flotsam and jetsam; Indra’s vast net billowing, swollen and bloated by myriad regurgitating fountains, shattered vents, open ocean scars
from which inky bathyl streamers wave to and fro
a trillion interactions, a revolution every second
The colossus flexes, stirs.
II
The inland sea carved a path awash with silt and sand-grain memories of a thousand shores
the alluvium mire replete with vagabond deposits
buoyant and bobbing
ethereal strands of angel hair wafting through the abyss
nerves and sinews and veins
myriad natant snowflakes tripping atop organic ooze
vast web spanning to the lapping fetch on clay-layered littoral ledges.
III
The swirling brew, rain-pummeled and vent-swollen
dividing, sub-dividing, swept by bitter sea brine
its mind’s eye under a thick film squints open.
---Life was not wrought in the witch’s cauldron---
---The Cauldron itself came to life---
The Universe awoke from its eternal slumber, and Thalassa stirred
rocked and bathed in a vast organic web, star lit and floating in a Nebula of Dreams
IV
Information-gathering units
each body a corpus of datum
splitting, spinning, joining, fusing
probing, flattening, bloating, separating
spawning countless non-appendage heralds
crawling, flying, walking, swimming, floating
WE ARE THE MANY IN THE ONE
WE ARE THE ONE OF THE MANY
WE ARE THALASSA
Praise, a chronic disease
Ruins humanity
Increases sugar in blood
Spreads intoxicants in artery
Hangs a curtain before eyes
Hides truth.
Mind dips in self-enchanting
Always seeks false praising words
Credits
Clappings
Honours
Rewards
All treasures of materialistic world !
Mind guides the human
Mind commands the soul
Instigated by mind, human
Swims in the whirlpool of illusion
Hankers after pride and prejudice,
The album of achievement fattens day by day.
Praise fascinates mind
Increases the hunger of self-publicity
Ear always eager to hear
Rejoicing in the self, self-conceit grows
Touches the sky.
Mind misleads human
Wants sensual pleasure
Eyes roam over pages of newspapers
Magazines, the screens of News Channels
To see photos of praises
To hear words of self-illusion
Praise engages brain in his workshop
Deposits sheets of self-credit
Directly or indirectly, shamelessly speaks aloud
“I am the monarch of all I survey”
Thinks: he is almighty, Omniscient
Within him,
In the inner cell hibernates his soul
All alone
Sniffs the smell of perishing body
Not ready to tolerate false praises
In each unfavorable talk
Faces jealousy, conspiracy.
Soul whispers: I’m living dead
If you die, die unknown
Nobody would talk about it
Nobody would lament for you !
Lines more lunatic than the sun – 7
playing on the raw-coal
the under-clothes of the airhostesses
continue to sing a song
even-then the germination of the almonds
can never become the sugar-candy
made of palmyra
may be they don’t want so
until and unless any night-guard comes
and deposits the RBCs of the jack-fruit-leaves
within a wrinkle-free hand-glove
you do absorb all colours
from the soil of the earthworms
and thus unfold your open hair
along the air of this cloudy day
then none but the gughni-sellers
will get back their names and titles
there is from the sky of the timber of hog-plum
it has rained even last night
the streets are wet
the trees are wet
there is splashing mud in the low lands
those all full-of-incidents
if you wish
you can send them
to the introduction of a proposal against war
i’ve never heard that
to take the responsibility
of the starving south-east
the rain has put down its crown
Lines more lunatic than the sun – 8
all on a sudden
one day again
i face the isabgool
the own fountain of vraj-kishore
may be, wants to fly away in such a manner
to another afternoon
my tiffin-expenses cann’t discover that valley
till now
from where
it is said
all night-gowns begins
then i’m sitting
with my hands and legs spread
in the sun-light
filled with
the sound of chopping of cabbages
on the flowers of the sun-plant
that are in-between the wife and her mother-in-law
i exercise my intelligence very much
if the question of my security is raised
it is only a ‘for-God’s-sake’-like adjuration
the knot of a white handkerchief is so much heavy
i don’t know earlier
my knowledge of using prosody
getting amalgamated calmly
with the stamen used by the sleep
Form:
Untrampled Sand
Idyllic shorelines tucked away
Are island protected in a tropical bay
Below pastel skies polished by clouds,
Reveal a Shangri-La lathered in gold.
Untrampled sands, white and tanned,
Are cooled by waves and wind-fanned,
Where exotic vegetation creeps unmolested,
Claiming squatters’ rights of fertile deposits.
Mollusk seashells litter the beach
Within the cove’s curvature outreach,
Where hermit crabs upgrade shells
And birds sing throughout the hills.
(Un paraíso tropical de mi corazón
En sueños con la mujer que amo.
Gracias por la memoria
Ese viento llena mi lienzo
Mientras navego por los océanos.)
A tropical paradise of my heart
In dreams with the woman I love.
I thank you for the memory
That wind-fills my canvas
As I sail the oceans.
Do I really need to know
Why the Flycatcher
Sits atop the tallest weathered pole
On a spring morning
And releases this most fantastic trill,
Rides it higher and higher
To a manic rage,
Causing every living thing for yards around
To pause and take notice,
Be captured—
Lifted—suspended with lyric madness?
And do I really need to know
Why the rose
Tilts its blossom bright,
In a most flirting way
Toward the blushed face
On a rising sun?
And do I really need to know
Why bees and butterflies,
Make daily deposits and withdrawals
In open light, clear of armor,
No guard these faithful vehicles flit and fly,
Bankers free as sky?
And do I really need to know
Why you love me
And I love you,
When in those moments
Of separation
There is nothing…
Not even space to count—
For space can always
Be filled by something,
But true love
Either is
Or is not?
I have this awful feeling that the universe is changing its shape, and the earth is going to increase the human race, the Meteorites are sailing through the sky, and the earth is racing in a different time to honor a period that has already died.
It’s hard to set the world in motion when three-quarter of our planet is sinking beneath the deck and the sun is moving closer to the earth to suck up the moisture and heats up the land, a piece of paradise is falling from your hand.
I wonder what they will find up there when the universe has so much to share, the moon is full too soon and flowers are blooming under the crescent moon, the temperature is rising, and the earth is blazing, and the ocean level is rising.
A strange wind from the East is passing through the sky packed with nitrogen and it will make you die, it has come too close to the earth and mingling with the elements that is made up of dirt, it is stuck behind the mountains, and it will stay there until the earth changed its form.
Oh what wonders lies in those tiny sockets with imaginary strings floating in the air as they parachute and float inconspicuously in the atmosphere. They are holding the universe together and they make our lives better. I can see the valves opening and closing and the air pressure slowly releasing and the mugs dancing and bouncing in space.
The air above me is mixed with grime, the air around me is laden with slime, the deposits from the sea and the spaceship debris fell right in front of me but mercy was right onetime to rescue me. The mission to the moon will return to earth sometime before noon, position someone at the gate to measure the temperature before it burst in flame. The air around me is polluted.