Long Devolve Poems
Long Devolve Poems. Below are the most popular long Devolve by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Devolve poems by poem length and keyword.
It's quite obvious now:
"The they" are preparing for life deep underground.
Placing final ribbons around subterranean cities.
Stockpiling sustenance
Water being siphoned to top off cisterns and privies.
The Amazon, Tigris, and Euphrates.
Superior, Michigan, and Erie are all being drained.
The surface people will be left scrambling for crumbs
in the phlegm of nuclear holocaust.
They'll devolve into hunter-gatherer clans.
To become a twisted reality show for subterraneans.
"The They" who trafficked us and ate our babies
will make a game of it, placing bets at our expense...
on who will perish -who'll be left.
Then, when the earth is somewhat cleansed.
"The They" will emerge to barter with metal from our teeth
pin our cross/bones to their puffy pigeon chests
The rest will serve as sex slaves, servants, and jesters
in the post-apocalyptic bed, "the they" have knowingly made.
Of course,
Christmas is
about Christ...
Dah!~ it is in
the name --
As evil is in Devil
whom we blame;
while man could be the
author of his own push/pull
game? Reality his own
Virtual? --
just think about it...
without our need
no talk of heaven
and hell...
unless
there are other planets
under such cryptic
spell
creation replete with
condemnation
and emancipation --
----------------------
Something is off...
a loving God that
would devolve spirit
as miracle flesh being
to pain some eternally
for His Own flaw
if imperfect Freeing?
The image of demise refined,
Thus, my body was confined
So dismal, doleful and discomfited
Although the wicked wish went awry
But, I still weighed 'I may die'.
Suddenly, I saw my soul stalled;
After a short time, it questioned,
"Are you aghast of death?"
This question remained on my eye,
As my tears said 'I may die'.
For whether we live,
We live unto the Lord;
And whether we relive,
We relive unto the Lord
We live or die, we are the Lord.
With this,
Confidence reported like
There is nothing worse than death
Death is assured;
Thus, we must feel 'I may die'.
You run after riches,
On the floor of the fallen men;
Remember you shall die like men,
And fall like one of the princes
What'll be your gain if you die?
Your father,
Where is he?
Does your prophet live forever?
With your power, the world is slave
Don't you think 'if I die?'
As it was,
The body will devolve by the earth
Whatever you call yourself;
Always remember,
'I may die'.
by Akinloye Gbajero S. (c. June 5, 2023).
(ref. Romans, 14:8, Psalms, 82:7, Zechariah, 1:5, Ecclesiastes 12:7).
Cornwall Security employee has in daylight today exited work vehicle in thousand oaks to initiate false name using another's forcibly removing public utility access from the army corps of engineers in the United States of America. Per declaration
Removing free speech
Time now is 9:59a.m
Interested parties up to the AFL-CIO and all account holders in California have previously been named defendents
Order of city draw from account concludes upon registration entries of harbor house desk pantry fool reception.
As to whom is eating
Typically "fasting" days, rights and laws devolve internment districting rather astutely in history.
That one has as currency and is currently undergoing the burden of halting on side notes for another's labor in a daylights gaining momentum.
Conjectures reposing argument precludes
Standing reverent in a dull cast mist
glazing my cheeks while prayers were said
so silent stood at Rand's memorial
My mind dashed to the self-drawn sketch
he staged as "The Youthful Raconteur";
profile, pipe, wavy cinema legend hair -
his final role, being lowered by rope
into a eternal, earthen wall home
Flowers fell like words fall, droplets in air
completing his circle, our circle too
His "Janie" bowed, seated solitary
almost estranged by her own dreams dashed
her beauty gone long ago, buried too
As the "Wedding Cake Couple" sixty years past
right up to the very day of their marriage
which proved a confection in itself
Rand was the one who always got the girl
perky, popular, blonde, "Homecoming Queen"
They spent lifetimes contriving their image
striving for the unattainable ideal
then crashing, having to pick up the pieces,
not content, tortured by delusions
This is how my older brother's life ends
a cacophony of misadventures
He wanted to be called only Rand
not Randall and never Randy, just Rand
So then, I always called him Randy
it's what a younger brother must do
to bring one down to earth, he was up there
Chasing fate, dashing towards his destiny
daring too often, reality hits head on
His good looks, handsome physique were no match
for surging corporate expectations
while sinking, his wake tipped lots of boats
his marriage, his family in a free fall
my piddling attempts to help were futile
Truth was, I never knew his inner mind
I guess I loved him but I don't know -
was he simply the superior image
or the vulnerable suffering reality?
So he flailed through his eighty eight years
disconsolate, in debt and detached,
his affections only came in a knot
Where were Randy's spiritual benefactors?
Are we heirs of our actions, not wishes?
Can we dream but not make dreams our masters?
So what about my own selfish frailties?
I take no pride in this awful life's play
my failures were many and to think now
I lost a life so close, that I watched
for so long devolve and did so little -
will be with me forever, this my fate;
not dashing towards the ones I love most
klaus says humanity has lost its trust' so i guess to regain
It is his new must??
trump has won and now presides.' As many people are
Opening their eyes.?]
Many Americans phoned and texted when a new bill was
Debated' and we saw things got really affected.'
I don't know how ( that went down ?)
With all those evil? davos clowns?
soros gates claus and carny, atten-borough thun-burg they'd send you barmy!
In listening to such fifteen minutes? it is plenty.' Of time
To escape the ' forever citys' and before they're built.!
Like a hive.? Do we have a mind.? Hmm think..Think think.?
Also action will do fine.' What will be the next distractions.? Maybe
Its simply best to do as above.? Get involved to devolve.!
Give the agenda a shove.? Which is like a train on its track
Of lies.?? If you remove some sections off a cliff it
Fly's
We must de-industrialise i hear..By some pallid strange
Specimens; let this be clear' in order to devolve to sustain'
We must resort to mass slaughter? Oh the idiocy.' And such
Strain the cattle are creating co2.. its the stuff of creation
And part of it.' Is that not true.? Yet still we must strive to
Mine lithium ore..Quite a destructive passtime.' To obtain
From raw.? Yet the goal is sustainable farming and such
Like ploughing with horses? And lighting candles well its
Not really that tough.' It can be done.' I'm not saying it
Can't but we'll need all the livestock.' About which some
Rant.' To do the impossible mankind ever tries.' And fads
Are ubiquitous as are callumny and lies.'
They drift gently
down(downed)?
Into the heart they root,
confetti on desperate streets
glowing like gilded red roses.
Smell them as they chant your songs.
so very often (semi-pure-hearted) they keep things(you) aloft,
far above
the stingers
the biters of early frost.
All the while death's photographic memory
tapdancing and tossing needles.
You feel you can ride razors, go unscarred.
A pinwheel inside the bubble of soda pop dreams,
live forever's eternity...
The loins of the mind, a crisp confident ball of catnip and tinsel.
Every by-way of everyday doused in gentle flames.
Every gaze a swaying mosaic of prairie flowers...
but the sun is but a blemish to storm.
The downy gaze is but a concrete stare,
the eyes of hope glancing off yesterday.
When trails were filled with bike bells and pulse.
Petals of just being, brushed beneath tender chins.
We both liked butter and blurry stars... and we kissed...
clumsily, bad chip-toothed - pure.
Sediments of puppy love and living will devolve,
Wings tend to become claws
flight into crawl...
An uncomfortable lavender.
Paths will rut, become trough
cold canyon
flash flooding crashing.
Broken flowers cascading under the chin
butter turns
rancid
crows barking,
"I told you so-should have listened to father,
when he begged you to slow down.
The silk of naivety leads to brushfires in the mind.
Everything given to scorch...
the hills, the troughs
we (the survivors) hang from trees
groping the dark
to descend to the bones of things once loved
of things once cherished
of things now hated
of things avoided
things that lay dead...
a plague of darkness bred
in the silences
of
hopeless.
The lullaby raped into hoarseness,
like bike bells in winter.
A man should first know his own strength,
what it is he can and cannot do,
our physical power is no small thing,
use it wrong and you’ll be truly screwed,
they’ll take everything away from you.
But on the right job, or in self-defense
it’s a boon that can make all the difference.
A man should know that he has to work,
that without it there’s no dignity,
that hand-outs just put you on a leash,
make you someone else’s property,
for them to move around endlessly.
To truly be free, you’ll have to labor,
earn the respect of yourself and your neighbor.
Man should know of his nation’s past,
what it cost to get where we are now,
the good and the bad, and who sacrificed
to give us the life freedom allows,
not all folks with this chance are endowed.
It is our duty to see it live on,
to not do so would leave our children wronged.
A man should know to carry a knife,
and to own and use a firearm,
to know the when and why of such things,
in defense only should he cause harm,
or if hunting food down on the farm.
But trusting to fate will leave a man dead,
you must have the tools to hand evil its head.
A man should know how to spend his money,
how to plan ahead and make a budget,
and to put aside for the unforeseen,
it always hits when your least expect it,
and a killer lies within large debts.
It’s not just cash, it’s hours of your life,
things are easier when you spend it right.
A man should know that human nature
is something that’s never going to change,
and all who think they’ll ‘remake’ the world
as either childish, evil, or insane,
their ideas end in nothing but pain.
Treat people as the mixed batch they are,
at least then you’ll have the chance to go far.
A man should know that women are built
different not just in body, but in mind.
Each sex will have its natural strengths,
and we play to them all the time.
Given our aggression men will find
use in restraints from old chivalry,
no matter the protests of the feminazis.
A man should know how to be sincere,
to be honest in his life and his work,
to hold close to a firm code of honor
so as not to devolve into a jerk,
but to still remember how to hurt,
because if you can’t, if you have no backbone,
then you can forget a life that’s your own.
Waters rise, engulf the land and other ruses
we devise to block their flow, to stem the tides.
Anxious, we are left to ride the waves
on fragile barques bereft of sails.
Such flimsy arks (mere barrel staves
and baling wire) float up the sides
of great sea-risers like defiant snails
awash in slime. In time, seabrine looses
collective holds on congealed excuses
and in salt solution we dissolve.
To silver fishes we soon devolve
while worlds and stars, giants and dwarfs,
fade from mind like boats from wharfs.
And when to darker depths we dive,
will fishes miss us? Shall we survive
apart from sky, from air, from dry?
If at last we gasp and die
will crabs cavort? Can fishes cry?