Long Differential Poems
Long Differential Poems. Below are the most popular long Differential by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Differential poems by poem length and keyword.
We constantly deal with poetry which puts us in a soporific state,
we sit here apathetic to the cause of studying this beautiful art-
but Poetry’s breath Ad Nauseum about love and laments is bad for a date,
oblivious to the images, while attempting to turn the key we begin to depart.
Yet the door haunts us, novels, plays, yet poetry is the apex,
of this ethereal mystery within the maelstrom that is our mind,
alas this frustration is focused upon the conundrum of poetry being complex,
is it just a condensed novel, this Herculean Task of understanding the undefined.
There are many who deem poetry obsolete but tis rather far from its nadir,
now begins the unequivocally splendid power of the imagination-
hidden by poetry from the vituperative invader,
who’ve made an egregious mistake in deeming poetry a partial differential equation.
Imagination, oh what a beauty long forgotten in the age of reason-
we’ve been given Hobson’s choice, force fed Occam’s razor, given epitome-
yet good ol’ imagination persist like an excretion,
from the eyes of the true daughter of time, Science’s proficiency.
People assume poetry is the modern day Gordian’s Knot-
well- let us assume this is Utopia, were Imagination runs wild-
as she watches her forest, a black cat surreptitiously passes a man in thought,
startled because it is Friday the thirteenth his Triskaidekaphobia- this is all rather mild-
Just the tip of the iceberg was touched upon, just the tip-
Poetry and humanity is an oleaginous affair we mix but do not blend,
Or should we, poems are nothing more than what we put in, as if to dip-
just our toes, before we plunge head first into poems so as to apprehend.
Poetry is the Sun, as you are the flowers shined upon,
given warmth of knowledge and power if you are to just reach.
Not to let Poetry in as if to catch on-
give it back in your own form of speech.
Through your own imagination feed poetry,
It hungers for your reality, though not reality-
procrastinate not- hopefully,
for your conceptions are your sanity.
Or rather is fancy your sanity- decide,
it will affect your observation of poetry forevermore.
It will excite-
whether you believe it to or not- you will love or abhor.
Poetry is not arduous -
just do not assume there is a secret door.
In fact poetry is quite virtuous-
Seek only what you can give poetry, I do implore.
*russian to english , legend to the foreign language terms used in construction of the poem
PRIRODA – NATURE
KRUGOVOROT VODY – WATER CYCLE
LETOISCHISLENIE – CHRONOLOGY, CALENDAR
PECHENIE - COOKIE, BISKIT
The Difficult Task
Let's retain the stress of past
For prolonged solution
So program of control will last
And force the attribution
Let's submit to stupid sects
In your ideal linear way
Surprising how you're naive
Remember Faraday
Your week is starting Monday
Their week is starting Sunday
My week is starting Tuesday
Routine of them refuse, A.
Majority of human the machine
And their routine routine routine
Was off for measurement On/Off
During COVID pandemics
Their trends, their moron, their crap
Is being addressed
By competent the instance
You cannot engineer proper stance
Paths to solutions lead our epistemics
And strategy of higher order
Of quantity of them
Says my PRIRODA
Let's solve this Differential
In terminology of kind
That isn't attribute of mass
And then next step you'll find
Can the Defense impose on State
Wrongly the solutions
In bottles is KRUGOVOROT VODY
No savior are fusions
Photosynthesis and the AI
List is leaf in Russian
Curious I am what they'd compute
Especially if they are rushing
Faster faster
Dear friend
Fast your belt
Your life will end
The church is tied to calendars
To your (the) LETOISCHISLENIE
Untie this bond
And if you want believing in the luck
Do break this the Chinese PECHENIE
In bottles are the water cycle
This cycle isn't any wheel
Plastic pollution are glitters and sparkles
When will you teach child of yours to be real
The sum of water quantity in bottles
The sum of water quantity in tanks
The beam of pressure high
Pass through the throttle
Not sure what for I would be giving thanks
One of the main INSPIRATION for this POEM was or is A POEM by SAMUIL YAKOVLEVICH MARSHAK - The War With Dniester, but also BORIS ZAHODER - THE FRUSTRATIONS OF THE DOGGY, russian jew and a prominent soviet poet, sure it was translated to english and in order to INQUIRE you shall make an effort
song SLIPKNOT - Psychosocial
I am seeking methods to neutralize radiation in water
I am the one guy that doesn't go to your school but everyone knows
I know every song and the way it goes
I try to stay away from bimbos and hoes
Me and my friends play games such as nose goes (inside joke)
I am skinny medium height
Everything I am about to tell you is right
I have potential in my life
And I will be the differential in this time of strife
I will make and break nations
Change individual denominations
I want to start all of this with you
Because right now you look down and blue
I want to cheer you up
This will make you tough
Your blues have had enough
I know right now life is rough
But I will help you be strong
Everything the world is telling you is wrong
Sex is a widely advertised and marketed hobby
This is wrong
Do not go along
Be strong
Be tough
Drinking on Friday nights never led to anything good
So why should
You drink
Of this let us think
You tend to forget those nights
And sometimes you would ever get into fights
And these nights have brought you what?
Nothing that is what
A good time with these buddies
Usually ends up bad
And deep down I know you are sad
So here is how to become glad
Follow me
And you shall see
That there is one who can see it all
Can pick you up when you fall
Stand you up tall
And never let anything knock you down
He is always around
So take away your frown
And look towards God
Humble in his glory
And he will cast away your every worry
He will awaken new life inside of you
Of this I swear true
So tell my new friend
Are you prepared?
Are you ready?
I will take you to church
I will help you out
No longer shall you scream and shout
No longer dazed and confused
Just look at you
You are feeling better already
So can't you see?
This life within us all
Was here all along
Now sing this song
Sign along
To Grace Amazing (Song commonly played at my church)
As you sing this I see you are changing
I can't help but smile
All the while
You had this potential too
Now you know it is true
(On my myspace also)
Copyright 2009
All rights reserved
-Matthan C. Atherton
etherial entities, Elsewhere and Elsewhen
less than omnipotent but exceeding their parts
abide in Netherverse, universal children
intertwining potentials conceive child of their arts
a difficult birth through a point of positions
with a breath of inflation our Cosmos survives
face lights up with symmetry breaking transitions
a familiar fine face in the microwave skies
expanding bubble within a where-when ocean
two-way quantum cuddles along the interface
to us, top and bottom, a confusing commotion
to Cosmos, it's all around, warm parents embrace
and Cosmos communicates with siblings and friends
beyond overlapping membranes down massive black holes
at centres of galaxies where light bends and bends
re-meeting and greeting wild oceanic shoals
an ocean of learning, an endless becoming
made in the image of imagined potential
and listen closely, Cosmos is faintly humming
music symphonic with daring differential
keeping a rhythm that fast-forwards down aeons
then surfs the present and through time loops back
fabulous instruments, incredible crayons
sketch the past and future in one amazing track
and our Cosmos is tuned to the beat of life
empathy etched across a holographic mind
sharing grief and joy, the world weary cries of strife
the sheer delight of being, delirious and kind
awareness arises and then consciousness awakes
first galaxy focused on planets around stars
life teems, dreams and dances as intelligences outbreaks
escaping gravity's grip but leaving some scars
for pain and exultation, they fly together
space-timed, time-spaced, while smiling over horizons
Cosmos listens, then learns, needs touch of a feather
to fine tune core settings and cosmic liaisons
the task is great, for the infant bubble may burst
and then duly deflate to a point singular
or forever speed out so flat-lined and cursed
where, when, then... would learning be in story so far?
Philosophers, down the ages,
Have strenuously tried
To figure out language:
Their numerous narratives polarize
Into two Grand narratives, a binary:
Language is referential / differential.
This binary has yielded numerous derivatives.
On the referential side, for instance,
There’s the view that language is an instrument,
As advanced notably by Aristotle, Bhamaha and Dandin.
On the differential side, we have
Saussure’s notion:
Language is a system of differences
(without any positive terms).
Derrida, for his part, widened it:
Language is infinitely differential,
As suggested by his coinage differance,
which implies: language is
slippery, radically unstable,
which, in turn, gave rise to
mind-boggling derivatives
in this postmodern world!
Some of them are: Derrida’s (own) freeplay
of the (autonomous) sign,
Bloom’s (willful) misreading,
And Lyotard’s (incommensurable) language games
(which we all play in this postmodern space willy-nilly)
All these differences have led
Often to acrimonious disputes,
Couched, of late, in a language
that abounds in ambiguity
and neatly underpinned by illogic!
The predicament of these philosophers (old or new) is:
What they and we all observe
is not language-in-itself,
but language as seen by us—
which is similar to what Heisenberg said about nature!
These disputes remind us
of the dispute among the six characters,
in the age-old parable,
which reportedly originated in the Indian Rigveda.
(but now found in several belief systems).
It’s the parable of the six men
(as narrated by John Godfrey Saxe)
Wherein the characters tried
To figure out an elephant,
which, unfortunately, none of them
Had the faculty to see:
So, one called it soft and mushy;
for another it was like a snake;
for the third, it was fan-like,
And so on.
Thus, they “disputed loud and long,
Though each was partly in the right
…and all were [rightly] in the wrong!"
***
A cheetah avoided the trap that night
And the wild cat escaped the shot.
Someone was there for them to learn
And each of them were taught.
The Bear had chosen to spare the cubs
For the ease of the Mother Bear.
But the man with the gun
Fell pray to own stun
And we didn't drop any tear.
"Was this the Kingdom the people asked for",
Had wondered the old young man.
Was this Forest Spirit?
I gave way to the might
To spare extinct life near it.
This is the trap the noble beast
Avoid it and stay secure.
"But are you to teach animal wild
How to handle the life of the least?"
Bear, Wolf pack and the Black Cat
had adopted small human kid.
When he grew he led his army to shed
The skin of the huge snake.
The snake was wise
And venom was nice
Taking life of the gunman.
Where body remain
There's no soul in vain
As there wasn't soul at all.
There people in lab
They study us
But the small insect flew
It took one small bite
And that was right
And such is the story of ew.
The neckless cheetah had worn
Was there to see how migrate.
They count each animal of the world
But valuing own rate.
There people came with the cross
And said "Don't eat your grandma".
Yet no body remain
But the wild soul remain
Dwelling being that much afar.
Food chains of the world become franchise.
"But in which sense regards the wild?"
You are eating brand, the starch and the scent,
civilization of the descent.
Vegetarian Lion lives in the Zoo
Within the claustrophobic cage.
The dumb and the cross
yet bears idea about the inexistence of the Nitrogen.
There is nothing however about wrong
Human fights for the human life.
I am standing near with sharp cosa
When the times comes for partial differential.
See if poeple would rot to become
cultivation means,
Maybe there could be so much
fertile soil
so there wouldn't be the need to always win.
Things bloom more beautiful when breaking down.
The nave now ploughs through foams of flowering trees,
a frozen caravel. Kissed by the breeze,
the river surface suddenly seems to frown
exquisitely. The apse’s jaunty crown
of weeds above one (sightless) eye would please
romantic poets. What was once a friese
lies strewn about, a shaley shanty-town.
We love whatever withers, atrophies.
To see a calked construction founder, drown
beneath its own detritus, by degrees
slough off its shape and, sinking to its knees,
expire, is satisfying. Velvet gown?
We’d much prefer to see a soiled chemise.
A lake? A cloud? A mountain? Megan Fox?
If we acknowledge Beauty in these things,
what are we saying? As when Smokey sings,
or girls emerge in slinky summer frocks,
something’s taking place outside the box
of regularity, and sprouting wings.
How might we classify these happenings?
A rupture in the norm? The whole Baroque’s
built on this very point. If Beauty rocks,
what is the special quality it brings,
and why is it so pleasing? Beauty flings
a spanner in the works of Orthodox,
and laughs at Workaday. It mocks
our essence, lurks in quirks, and smirks at clocks.
“The Wordsworth ouevre is cretinous. Discuss.”
The Long, Laborious Quest, The Sparrow’s Nest,
The Noble Oak of Guernica, Addressed –
We can’t escape the feeling he’s a wuss.
His subjects are unconscionable, plus
the rhymes he uses are a facilefest.
If only he were even half in jest!
His humour’s unintentional, and thus
more entertaining than he could have guessed.
Yet something in his scribblings seems to wrest
significance from dross, analogous
to Newton’s differential calculus,
invented by the by, at whim’s behest.
When Wordsworth falls apart, he’s at his best.
The Armenian and The Liverpudlian
It’s hard to see sometimes
How chalk and cheese can mix so perfectly
Makes you wonder how the differences of character
Can work together
He, all forthright respect and daily clarity
She, all winsome wishes and artistic poetry
And yet somehow they relate to each other
By default
They weave and intricate pattern
Of threads in reality
And threads in dreams
Football, Liverpool FC runs in his veins
A passion and obsession
His pride and his downfall if they win or lose
Staunch supporter he remains
Though quieter now than times gone past
Art and music, a dancer, she, of ballet precision
A passion and obsession
With such flare and grace and delicate turns of love
For the folklore rhythms of ancient songs
A picture of music’s expression in her form
Eight languages she speaks, Eight !
While he falters on Liverpool accent
But captures the essence of a foreign tongue
Chef he is of delicate cuisine
And she of wine’s pallet appreciates
Never have I know two such complex differential lovers
That intertwine and mingle so well
Or seen such ready acceptance of each other
In people prepared to accept any stranger
For who they are
How far apart did their lives begin
Liverpool England
Yerevan capital city of Armenia
What wild horses drew them together
What turns of fate
Could bring this poetess
And this football obsessed
Man and woman
Together
You have to ask
But through all their trials
They remain together
And in a few months they will be married
Do you know when you know
That something will last forever
They will I am sure
It’s a strange but cheese and chalk thing
That mixes together so fluidly
But of all the things that brought them
Together so perfectly
It is Love, respect and Honesty
Both of them
Have these admirable Qualities
To your future my friends
May you live in blending love
Always
Somewhat outstandingly
millennial absurdism
Is Seen’d slowly
Drownin’ towns;
& townes’ there’ness,
May’be
Forever’ly mere’d,
—-
hungry Frenetic wild dogs roam-
ING;
Thirst, unquenchable.
&
Thas’ workingly blue homosexual
Humanoid thingies’ living IN,
& Cherry blossoming IN,
kings X
(& already some of k’s\X rabble)
(So-so) townspeople
have despoiled)
FROM THEIR’
(childlike attributes,).
—-
Modern revolutionistik’ think’rs:
Black-skinned-bleached-white’.
White-skinned-blackened-mentality’.
—-
(Labours untouched’dd-ness &
Less talented’ly withe onward
Revolving sun’s,
Brittle’d fingertips
Neon-eye’d,
Multiple faced,
&
A billion tongues’
Withe reasons why.
“Blonde trumpet ringin’ thoudly;
Across EV!’erythin-G!!
A-rousing unflatter-y
Inst’
THE tribe of the bluest
-FAKE kind’d lips’.>
> Whost’ are the village of the green--purple half hair’d
Un-socked honey Dew, d liveateer’s.
&
(All are friendly amongst;
tillst’ A
Differential thought
is, a, borne.)
—-
Their sombre complexities befoul
Themst’ Olde’ tech-intolorable-temple’d N’ thy self’s
Of AN entwined concrete society
And it’s “Now” flaethering
correct-ism’s.
—-
Harshest-safety-ness
Needed the most now
More then ev’r
—-
(And then)
War will be us!~
Opened A’rms!-
& too!
Limbs shall fall’
What would’st be great decisions
for the different-colour’d-natives?
&
Wouldst thine
brothers of
OUR
enemies flesh cutoff bloodlines!?
TRAITOR’ing they’s own soil&sea
& mumma’s?
to drive a salty sword insto’ they’s
Own essence!!?
Would’st OUR free-worlds empire reign onst’ an eternal myre?
& WOULDST rationality (beautifully it is, so-so’)
Become re-equipped.’
Whenst’ our infinitely
Circling evolution’Y’s
Becometh thIs pointe
Again?
•Maybe NOt•
Pills and potions instrumental by Nicki Minaj
Mixed emotions
They feel like the ocean
The waves come and I run from them
(Repeat 1x)
I still run I still run I still run
I still run
(Repeat 1x)
These feelings that I keep having
Be having me feeling like I'm dragging
I be trying to put the past behind
Pat my self on the back I'm doing just fine
Life sometimes feel like a nursery rhyme
I can still hear it time after time
Then I remember this voice in my head
That said
There is more to you than what people see
And have you heard of jealousy
They get bent out of shape for me being me
But I am one of a kind
Will forever be on someone mind
Mixed emotions
They feel like the ocean
The waves come and I run from them
(Repeat 1x)
I still run I still run I still run
I still run
(Repeat 1x)
People in life
Can be so judgemental
Do the math
See the differential
Love to see you down
Hate to see you up
Comfortability
Will get you stuck
Got to dig your way out
Out the mud we Know what that's about
We cut from different cloths
We can always be a boss
But it come with determination
No matter what you facing
There will be some fakes
That will clap
And in reality treat you like crap
So what do we do
Take the lense see the view
Realize the real from the fake
Gourmet meals on my plate
Filet mignon and the steak
Come here lets share
Real ones will always be there
Mixed emotions
They feel like the ocean
The waves come and I run from them
(Repeat 1x)
I still run I still run I still run
I still run
(Repeat 1x)
Hook
Emotions running through me
No longer care
How people view me
And I start to run
Touch the moon and the sun
I still run I still run I still run
I still run
(Repeat 1x)
Written by : Concetta Hardnett
02/08/2022