Long Disorder Poems
Long Disorder Poems. Below are the most popular long Disorder by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disorder poems by poem length and keyword.
In quantum mechanics particles remain entangled
And connected over huge distances.
So that actions performed on one particle
Still affect the others in the web or wave.
Einstein called entanglement "Spooky at a distance"
Because he couldn't explain the fate of Schrödinger's cat.
In a strange twist of fate, scientists
Discovered a new phenomenon called 'rhyme'
Which was related to 'strangeness' of quarks.
Rhyme was the missing link between entropy and entanglement.
Rhyme was what kept particles entangled by strong reason.
But the law of entropy ensures that ordered entangled particles that rhyme
Must dissociate fast to maximum disorder, releasing huge amounts of energy.
The breakthrough came when NASA employed poets to entwine reason and rhyme
To create Rhyme Drive, a quantum ion drive engine beyond belief,
Which was capable of getting a spacecraft to Mars in 42 minutes flat.
Speed of light shattered by rhyme and reason, science and poetry enwrapped in strangeness.
So it was dawn at Cape Canaveral for launch of Rhyme 1 to Mars,
With gaggle of poets and scientists on board the first flight,
Ready to prime and prompt Rhyme Drive to cite and perform.
No need for sandwiches, as this touch and go return flight, would be back before lunch.
Hawking and Branson embraced, and cheered the lift off Rhyme 1
Waving a banner "Rhyme Warps Time, See You Soon"
What have you done oh God of my heart
with love of a man you have filled every part
there was peace here once now it is gone
I stand alone though to him I belong
Why is it always the ones that I love
never return that gift from above
Love was supposed to bring us joy
but the one I love I seem to annoy
will I find peace in the dust of death
it seems more desirable than a heart bereft
for in death is the comfort of peace
wherefore the pangs of life seeks release
no toils , no trouble , six feet below
away from the fates I have come to know
beneath pale moon and her starry sky
to you alone whose tears hear me cry
my heart and its parts were given to you
to what I have learned I have tried to be true
the pyre of desire and I walk in its flame
a prison I cannot seem to its name
conflict and strife abiding here now
in a place that had peace alongside my vow
a crimson tide has washed my soul
the seeds of desire have taken their toll
I think I need freedom if I am to live
but my heart to another it seems you would give
what good can it do him if he cannot see
the depth of the loving dwelling in me
why I ask why have you done this thing
where is the joy you hoped to him bring
this one is very long if you wish to complete the
reading please use this link as it is 777 characters
over whats allowed.......www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=448188090980
in fact I have more than several I cannot post as
they are too long for apparently those with attention
deficit disorder...
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
You make an effort to fit in and follow disorder,
be who they want and never broader,
all of you always together go forward,
you learn to listen and let thoughts go missing,
just see what they see and be who they be,
you'll have people with people in blind unity,
no one's haunted unwanted in singularity,
effort forever yet clever because we betters me,
you tool you tool you tool in a tool box but free,
you don't think you're desperate, a success you see,
people are your need and all on a lead,
you finally fit in, they approve, you are not weak,
you now have people, an army of freaks,
they back up your thoughts when yours don't seek,
attention on you on them all are unique,
who's leading who? ALL I SEE ARE SHEEP,
no wolf, just wool, I don't give a sheets,
think for yourself, and approve nobody,
I don't need people , I just need to be me,
everything they do, I do for me,
if all want, what all want,
they don't give or receive,
you want from people what I get from me
After nearly a year
Hamas released four October 7th hostages.
Unfortunately, they're all deceased.
Tossed away, like ballast, from a sinking beast.
Will they be mentioned at the DNC?
Will they be remembered by anybody?
Does anyone still remember October 7th
September 11th
the ghettos of Warsaw
or the ovens of Hitler and Eichmann.
We have forgotten!
Trojan camels have entered through the globalist gate.
Purely in the name of a new world disorder of calamity.
The elitist ribbon and perfume it as tolerance and diversity.
{Diversity only works when hate is taken out of the equation.
Tolerance is feasible but only in the wake of a common vision.}
However, large numbers of participants are cross-eyed or blinded.
There is an unhealthy growing tolerance for terror.
Little empathy for the innocent and the common man.
The people have turned into sheep too frightened to speak.
Herded by their masters into endless shadows.
From which they'll not reemerge from their sleep.
We have forgotten, but we'll soon be reminded...
by a maelstrom of mayhem and violence.
A rhyme.
Helps control the chaos.
Time. Lime. Thyme.
My ideas normally stray.
So I tame them.
They go further, anyway.
Strolling through the downtown of my thoughts.
Disjointed like dinosaur bones that have just been discovered.
Dinosaur, roar, soar.
When I rhyme?
The ask why.
The rhythm is something I can control.
It’s a hobby, but also keeps me calm.
It keeps me calm, but also crazy.
They suggest a thought disorder?
Maybe just a quarter.
Before noon?
Making cookies soon.
My ideas are an adventure.
And like an adventure, are scary sometimes.
They had suggested a thought disorder.
I will take that into consideration.
Innovation…imagination.
I will take that into consideration…
If my mind allows me to remember.
Forceful displays are never her intention,
But she will constantly plea for your attention.
Doctors should order silence long before
Our lives are entangled in webs of disorder.
Souls long to rest in the arms of a silent embrace.
There is not the slightest sound nor faintest squeak
When silence speaks. Indeed, silence does speak volumes,
Most purely divine and most highly solemn. In silence,
Exterior sounds have worn thin. In silence, sounds are
Released from within. There are magnanimous gifts of
Silent frequencies, flowing freely through the canopy
Under the sun. And the universal language of silence
Is hidden from no one. Moreover, the sound of silence
Is the sweetest music to our ears, often issuing
Healings and restoration with calming tears; many
Of which have been backlogged for years.
Life revolts against
the fundamental law of Nature
for all things to inevitably degrade
to maximum disorder, entropy
with minimum free energy.
Life builds structure and order
against the trend
and needs to capture
and burn energy continually
to maintain its form and existence
against the ravages
of entropy and decay.
To survive living things must
conserve themselves,
transmit their seed
to new generations
and develop more successful
forms in a continuum.
Once the chain of transmission
is broken, the life form
degrades to dust,
and ceases to exist,
a dangling, fleeting species gone forever.
Life is an enigma, a peculiar chemistry,
a rebel against the laws of nature
fighting for the survival of its disparity
to avoid its inevitable degradation,
for now.
Born broken into a world that isn't whole. Taking the remedies that are supposed to "glue your sanity", to your God forsaken soul. Went through groups to find comfort within, but the tools that were taught eventually were used towards your own destruction. Gaining new insights about yourself. Slowly coming to the delusion everything is OK, so just put the crazy on the shelf. That cycle has clearly not been treating you so well. You seem to be manifesting the childhood trauma you placed on that shelf. All of the setting aside is seeping and creating your own personal hell, one for only you to reside and dwell. I hope this time you can find a good seat, so you can take the time and make friends with your childhood misery. Encourage healing for your mind. Stop sticking things in places that one day you eventually find. Deal with the pain that's brewing inside. Your little girl will thank you and future you will smile from ear to ear.
Scribe Under Fire
The wall had been there for an eternity
closing gaps of time and sacred places
field stones memories and gentle caress
Hans could not write any longer any
shorter it was too loud and far too quiet
the truth did not escape the lonely
fortress of sheltered dreams’ betrayal
He had lost a touch of his mind and a hand
already in previous senseless exchanges
luckily he was born tough and left handed
before right became wrong and left was a crime
When the trenches had become thicker
with blood bodies sticky bayonets guts
gore debatable glory and forlorn medals
Hans wrote from the depth of soul and despair
Hell bombs grenades shrapnel and agony
enacted a torrid cacophony of fire and noise
his nostrils became scorched while his ears
refused to hear and to listen any much longer
Scribbling poetry on the back of cigarette packets
his molten fountain pen fused with his mind
and he fought for his life his sanity and one
terminal act of kindness morale and advice
Hans could not release even one more shot from the
gun dangling from overburdened shoulders but
the sergeant shouted ‘attack you wretched coward
for King and for country for honour and sweet victory’
It had been a modern war and someone must have
known about shell shock or post traumatic disorder
but when they executed him with clean merciless shots
from a nameless firing squad because it was not for refusal
But for spreading fake news about the beauty of war for
sabotaging innocent minds of future generations for
soldiering with a mighty pen and not with a glittering
sword so he was shot at the wall for writing and not fighting
September 2018
COPING HEALING SURVIVING MENTAL ILLNESS IN AMERICA IT DIDN'T START OFF THIS WAY GOD KNOWS I DIDN'T ASK FOR I WAS SUFFERING IN SILENCE MASKING DEPRESSIVE DISORDER MASKING PTSD TRIGGERS ANXIETY DISORDER PANIC DISORDER PANIC ATTACKS I WAS SO ASHAMED OF MY DIAGNOSIS SO I SUFFERED BEHING MAROON DRAPES WRITING POETRY KEEPING A JOURNAL BROKEN I WAS BLESSED TO HAVE A NETWORK OF SUPPORT BUT NOTHING COULD QUIET THE HEARTBEATS I CAN STILL HEAR MY FETUS HEARTBEAT WHILE WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM JUNK SICK COPS WHO NEEDED ME DEAD ON YES CLAERLY I WAS DEAD THEN FROM 1984 THROUGH 1995 WIRES INSTALLED ON MY UNBORN CHILD I BELLY WOULD TREMBLE I CAN STILL FEEL HER HANDS INSTALLING THE WIRES THEY WERE COLD DISTANCE I LOOKED IN HER EYES AND I ASKED HER WERE THEY COULD TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MY HEART BEAT ANDBTHE FETUS IN THERAPY I SUFFERED FULL BLOWN PANIC ATTACK I COULDN'T BREATHE WHY DOES THIS MATTER WE SURVIVED AN YET I'M STUCK HERE FOREVER WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS I CLOSE MY EYES HEARTBEATSNI SING IN CHURCH HEARTBEATS TAKE A HOT BATH HEARTBEATS FINALLY SEDATION RESTING I AWAKEN TO HEARTBEATS SO LOUD LIKE SIRENS BLARING GUILT BEING CATHOLIC I CARRY THIS GUILT I ALLOWED THE FBI TO VIOLATE MY FETUS DOES THAT MAKE SENSE I CAN NEVER EVER BE WHOLE AGAIN FILLED WITH SO MUCH MEDICATION DECADES OF MEDICATION FOR MY LIFE WOUKD SURELY END WITHOUT IT AN YET I FEEL LIKE ENDING MY LIFE STOPPING THE HEARTBEATS I ADORE MY PSCHIATRIST MY THERAPIST THEY TELL ME I'M BRAVE HOW I'M NOT BRAVE I'M BROKEN I THINK OF THE FETUS INSIDE MY WOMB EVERY TIME THE DEVICE WAS TURNED ON THE FETUS WOULD ROLL UP INTO A BALL I FELT CONTRATIONS LIKE THE FETUS WAS TRYING TO EXPELL ITSELF I HAD TO KEEP GOING FINISH THE JOB FOUR OF MY OTHER KIDS SEATED WITH THE FBI SUPERVISOR SINGING MY GIRL I TRULY BELIEVED I WAS MAKING A DIFFERENCE I NEVER DREAMED I'D BE INTIMIDATED I NEVER DREAMED JAMAICAN DEALERS WOUKD ARRIVE TO END MY LIFE PARKED IN FRONT OF MY TOWNHOME BY GOD'S GRACE GUNMEN EMERGED SAVING MY LIFE I SHOOK LIKE A LEAF MY HEART POUNDING PANIC DISORDER