Long Differentiate Poems
Long Differentiate Poems. Below are the most popular long Differentiate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Differentiate poems by poem length and keyword.
Explanations become complaints. I know you didn't mean to make me feel like this — but there was no other way you ever made me feel. That's why I was never able to differentiate between the summer and monsoon of your mood, because they all were tough.
The cliff was never safe. It doesn't guarantee your well-being — you never know when they'll push you off. For a while, they treat you like a journey partner, until they reach their destination. Then, sooner or later, they push you away too.
I lived in the moment I was in — the present, with nowhere else to be. The separation was full of unlearning the insecurity and learning myself anew — the lies you told me about myself, the burden you gave me, fell from that cliff too.
Only two kinds of people react when they see you cry: the ones who love you enough that they can't bear to see you like that, and the ones who can't stand being the reason for your state.
Is unconditional love a truth, or just a tale from utopia — something we were told as children so we'd know what to look for, even if we were never meant to find it? Maybe it's neither. Maybe it's a question you keep asking every time someone new almost answers it, and doesn't.
Maybe it's my fault, for being confused. I thought it was understanding between us, but you wanted me to accept the blame you placed on me, while never once calling it a blame game. Guess you were dying to create the image of a saint. Calling a cage a home doesn't make it safe to live in.
You make the rules that feel good to you. You bend them when you want. Making me the villain — but guess what, I accepted that title too, just to be with you.
Now I don't hold any expectations — that you'll appreciate the effort, that you'll text. You're not the one I keep my toes up for anymore, always checking my phone for your name.
I can keep writing like a people pleaser who ignores itself constantly — but things like this never end. It made me realize: I didn't love the cliff. I loved the falling.
Whereas last night the full moon made the night resemble a cold day
Today clouds give the night its old shrouded, crowding demeanor.
Ghosts stalk the forest gleaming (at me) from just beyond the circle of
light thrown by the fire.
You, old night, I wish to make my peace with.
Eventually I know even I (I think, I'm told) must enter naked, a cold
north wind in winter or a gentle September breeze instructing my sole
spirit . . . .
There exist powers overwhelming for the human body and mind.
The aborigine's untold night of meditation on the mountain, coming away
with his life-long totem and power.
The mountains tonight are alive with benevolence that could (for one
lacking humility and respect or the hunter's perspicacity) flame up
into insane malevolence.
You, old complete night, I wish to make my peace with
Being utterly a creature of the water and the light.
Night on the mountain, the human animal alone, without cohorts, speech
and music inane without other ears to listen
Yet blasting, blasting against the night
Even after fire dies, its skin still the halo beacon to nothing in nothing,
Mind pouring on the electricity, outward to friends back in the cities
Receiving in return only strange sounds.
The ear must differentiate and protect.
Just as fluids within keep the body balanced so must the ear when the
eyes are blinded by night
Balance the mind. Eyes, heroes of the day, enjoying orgiastically
autumnal delights
Are now slaves to every primeval passion of the mind.
But the ears: it is a sound they have heard before and can identify.
Night, old strange night (were we once acquainted?), I wish to be at
peace with you by becoming knowledgeable.
Fear like fire clings to its fuel.
I wish to dampen passionate fears by attuning the five senses to all that is
normal dark and day.
To know the habits and cycles of everything I live beside
And my inner spirit become a silent tide attuned to nature's lunacy.
Catgut
--------------
Gestures and facial expressions
they were advised to
differentiate between
both fact and fiction
to ensure that everyone was
on the same page
Clear points of ending and finishing
plus smooth, seamless transition
from one song to another
A segue is often without a break
in the music or performance
some conductors hire people specializing
in this field to ensure a
proper position
of professionalism taking on
the challenge gives the Liaison
more input on production
and gives the conductor
more time for creativity
unity and cohesion are key
it includes the responsibility of
beat tempo and dynamic markings of
each performance
a walking pace or moderate tempo
to Presto
it is important that all involved are wise to each definition
using examples to show the difference between the two
it is the responsibility of
the liaison to prepare the cast of musician
to there renditions of each
the conductor than can meet the challenge
of forging the perfection
of what has been determined
and composed
and adjusted and readjusted to
give the musical cast the most room
to be as perfect as possible
a demand for perfection
is often used in such professional settings
it is demanded from most active performers
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Songs that are written lyric first or Music first are
often given story to help promote the
interest to al involved
The Musicians and audience both are than fans
of the composers and Lyricists.
Written By:Pobl Yfory
Unshakeable groggy state
plagues mein kampf
impossible mission to awaken
this comatose zombie
drugged horror - by potent
self manufactured narcotic -
oppressive tantalizing
nightmares indistinguishable
when supposedly conscious,
eyes cannot differentiate
dusky "reality" from
twilit zoned lifelike slumbers
confused with medication
induced hallucinations ferrying
me to lands unknown
lack proper visa to allow
this migrant citizenship,
cannot escape tangled web
spun since birth
threads tensile strength
beyond realm of destruction
incredibly dynamic force
defies sophisticated
contraption to measure
even against most
powerful dynamometer,
no contest when utmost might,
sans primal scream
regarding non anesthetized excruciating
spinal tap daily visited
on this beastie boy,
no matter summoning every last ounce
of mine (billeted) willpower
foregone conclusion collusion
effectually ranked less
than lame duck effort
defeated, jackknifed, stymied...
every step of the weigh
I loathe forlorn doomed curse,
a worse fate than death,
no life worth living when bereft
of interpersonal, "normal",
relational... trappings,
yet death not available
for this walled in hostage
imprisoned within inescapable Alcatraz
every blinkered instant nsync
with pseudo fictional
realistic psychedelic dreams
mocking (this bird – dodo)
man cave existence, a mere
abysmal charade, facade, jade
did minimalistic functionality,
where suicide an irrevocable
unfair punishment to Shana Punim
precious daughter, whose caterwauling...
would wake grateful dead!
I read what you wrote in that notebook
the message you merrily scrawled
Someone such as me who has imbibed reality’s bitter brew
couldn’t help but be appalled by such a short sighted notion
though I’m sure you meant well
“It will all work out” you said
That wasn’t the case for me though I worked my ass off
to earn a scholarship and a degree to escape poverty
now over forty still working for minimum wage
instead of on the stage as I’d hoped to be
or the man down the street from me murdered recently
in his bed with a single shot to the head
by his new lover’s jealous ex boyfriend
dead simply due to who he chose to date
or my best friend who met her fate at age fifteen
a drunk driver unable to differentiate between red and green
The two beauty queens who both
plunged to their deaths from the balcony of buildings
The pregnant woman whose pelvis was crushed
when the hospital in which she was to give birth was bombed
begging those who rescued her from the rubble
to kill her when she realized the baby
within her womb wouldn’t be born alive
but I am sincerely happy for you that you’ve been blessed
with such bounty in your life that you
could believe those words to be true
Where do I go, when the whole Reality is itself fake
Where do I go when we can’t differentiate between love and hate?
Where do I go, when I am in thirst of care?
When people not have themselves to care
Locked in the same loop, getting just like everyday
Where do I go, when the entire world is just a dream?
Where do I go, where I can express the real me
Where do I spend all those green notes?
When I can’t buy enough time for my heart
Learned to study, but forgot the reason
Where to spend all this knowledge, when we lack the time to smile
Where do I go, so that I can feel alive?
Where the heart should go when it’s afraid to express
What the mind should do when jealous is controlling you
Where do I go, where I can smile without why?
Where do I go, where I can get my people back?
Addiction is debilitating and changes who you are
I have watched my friend's life empty of all meaning, losing everything she loved and it can be difficult to reconcile her choices
But are they choices?
For those untouched by addiction, it can appear selfish and within your control to stop, particularly as you lose everything satiable in your life
"What's wrong with her?", "she's so embarrassing!", "she needs to pull herself together"
And that is the indoctrination of addiction
It is harrowing to watch the alcohol consume the person you know and love
Alcohol the acceptable demon, lauded in a westernised society
And used to celebrate and commiserate in equal abandon
"Lets wet the baby's head" to celebrate a birth, "ooh lets have a drink" to celebrate birthdays, Xmas, weddings and christenings.
"Let's drown our sorrows" or "raise a glass" to commemorate or commiserate any kind of loss, death, or receiving bad news
If this is "normal" how can it be so wrong?
These societally acceptable expectations make tackling alcohol addiction so much more difficult to deal with
You don't just need to avoid pubs; you need to avoid restaurants, local shops, supermarkets, church and even holy communion!!
So why do we look down on those struggling with addiction?
We differentiate, theyre not like us
"They take things too far" or "They can't hold their liquor" as though this is a quality of some worthiness
Watching my friend I see it is more than that
The addiction is the symptom not the cause
The cause is feeling so at odds with her experiences and life that the only way she can deal with things is to block them out
Just to even start the day
We don't know what others have experienced
In the same situation could we honestly claim we would not lose ourselves in the same way?
Oh,my dear busy honey bee,
Your life is very interesting to know, Are you an insect of five eyes and six legs to see, And you fly about 25 kmh just like the wind blow.
Oh,my dear charming odorant collector,
You have 170 different odor receptors at all hours, .. That help them distinguish flowers and.collect nectar, And you make half pound of honey from one million flowers.
Oh ,my dear brave honey bee, You can live up to eight years, Queen bee lays thousand eggs per day at glee, If a queen bee dies the workers bee create it to live.
Oh,my dear bizarre honey bee , You have two stomachs for eating and storing, How can you process nectar into honey ease?,
And I don't know how you make pollen into bread as an exploring.
Oh,my dear hardworking honey bee,
You don't sleep and take short period of rest, And you symbolise hardwork,team work please, I wonder how do you build nest from wax blessed.
Oh ,my dear honey bee of fine fortune, If a bee flies into a house,it will be a good sign, You can recognize and differentiate human faces often, And you will recall faces for a month after a look of fine.
Lunable to wonder
In curiosity glimmers
A broken man
A broken soul
Never sought
Never thought
meant to be
Meant for me
ignorant human
convivial sung
Felted loyalty
Taught adaptation
Commonly
Meant to be
Meant for me
Wishful being
Existing
Dashboard clean
1956
Traveling speed
Undetermined
Bored annoyed
Meant to be
Meant for me
Overwhelming
Unwatchable
Death close
Born to die
Glorified pissant
Conformist
Bend past
Self awareness
Still there
Look awkwardly
For dull
Witless actors
Directed carelessly
Not forgetting
Funnily trapped
As rodents
Unbeatable maze
Freely bound
Vaulted sound
Chicot choice
Sound absurd
Differentiate
Diverted easily
Incompetent
Flawed
Institutional
Inexpert soldier
ing pestiferous
Go die young
Supposed industriousness
Meant of me
Meant to be
Match unrivalled
Dying repertoires
purpose bleak
Parce que je déteste
la vie et elle le sait
The mood of the wirery rodent unable to remove itself from the wall it climbed into made to listen or fall from scurvy or starvation, the point of view from a dead soldier who had no choice but to listen and judge because he was also a total dick
Life is high and low state
Depending on how you assimilate things
The eyes is the window of your soul
Your perception differs the meaning
On top your sight is too sharp
Even the slightest movement you can discuss
Below things you see is limited and grounded
But very realistic and meaningful life.
Life you live here is all written
There's a writer up above that do the jotting
Whether seen or even the secret can't hide
Our life is borrowed yet destined
To make your own history a sad or happy life
Depending what role you act in this life's movie
Doing good or bad acting in life matters
Will determine your real fate in the ending part.
It's the view from the top
That makes your ego on high
The impression sound impossible
Since you accustom living below
Your eyes look down in fascination
All beautiful things underneath
But because of danger you wish on land
To permanently register your humbleness.
Going back to your normal state life
You differentiate two things with awe
Of how life is fortunate to glimpse
The chance to see life be on top or below
On top you see things in small spectrum
Here below you see thing in grandeur dismay
In totality, you grow in grace with wisdom
For all you see will come to note on soul.