Long Disposed Poems
Long Disposed Poems. Below are the most popular long Disposed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disposed poems by poem length and keyword.
He worked alone in cold, intensely black
peat water. Had to feel his way. Laid down
one hundred thousand concrete blocks, around
a million bricks, and carried on his back
uncounted thousands of the concrete bags
which shored the Minster up. Six endless years
he toiled in tedium. If bored to tears,
he never said so. And if he hit snags,
he overcame them on his own. Such men –
not loud, not proud, not looking for reward –
are just the type we really should applaud.
Perhaps there were more William Walkers then:
clear-eyed, unfussy, knowing what to do,
and quietly disposed to see it through.
Bodhisattvas turn airflow into flames,
water into Earth
as Jesus turned baptismal waters
into blood red rivers
of warm nutritious wine.
Bodhisattvas,
like Messiah prophets and saints,
long for
belong to
the baptismal political economy
of cooperative ecotherapeutic waters,
as yin flows air MidWay notnot pathological
through Yang's Great Transitional flames
ecstatically leaping,
empowerment "hungry"
for air's co-arising health-optimizing
embrace
as ReGeneration
balance evolving waves
of neuro-conscious language
logos thoughts
deeper mythos feelings
inviting ecological ethos.
When our political voices become too didactic
we listen wiser for more lyrically cooperative outputs
with denser harmonics,
singing and dancing in
bilateral resonant appositionals
polycultures
polypaths
optimally nurturing ego/eco-health perpetuation,
regenerative yang/yin dipolarity
of deep wealth EarthTribe.
While these singers and dancers
disconcert their way
maintaining (0)-investment PlaceHolder mentations,
SpaceTime Unitarian-Integral Occupation,
unbiassed polypathic attention
to neuro/eco-systemic ethics
and shared bipartisan norms
and co-invested political cooperative values
Natural communion economies of cooperation with Other
v competition for sufficient compassionate time
to heal threats to politically dense wealth outcomes
These are all held in Common Symbolic Messages
as invitations to positive individual freedom development
of positive values
with nutritionally regenerative purpose
emerging future Bodhisattva Co-ReGenerators
Composed of past,
and disposed toward future, healthy love
of neuro/eco-passionate balancing
fractal mind enlightenment
and dialectical body empowerment
Where red flame
of dawn's Earth matriarchal warning
meets red fears
of long dark-swept patriarchal past.
Once, inquisitors would torture a witch
and strip her naked down to the last stitch.
And fear in the people reached fever pitch
encouraged by the clergy and the rich.
It's like scratching that unreachable itch
crushing skulls of succubus that bewitch.
And procuring an informant or snitch
the church used faith as a means to enrich.
Burnt alive or hug, so's to watch them twitch
practiced for centuries with naught a glitch.
Finally, attitudes began to switch
and today, witches fill an occult niche.
With a witch, an itch, a glitch, and a twitch,
the war on women runs without a hitch.
Subjugated women are labeled B*tch
raped murdered and disposed of in a ditch.
(Monorhyme)
10/24/2019
Itch, witch, glitch or twitch Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
THE FLYING NUN
Disposed to high speed,
the rushing air through her covering —
to the police, known as “The Flying Nun”
My great, great Aunt was a lot of fun.
First saw me, as I stood tall as her knee.
Years passed, sped by at long last —
a station wagon, loaded up with Mother Superior
and her companion, and all manner of things —
beautiful dolls, coasters, toaster cover and nicknacks.
I grew tall as a weed, scattered dandelion seeds.
Took three with me to visit my charitable Aunt.
The convent nuns treated the kids to ice cream,
flying as we were leaving, a couple giddy penguins
gave gobs of candy to my kids, and huge pencils
with red lettering “I Love Philadelphia”
By airmail, letters would flutter to me back home,
with loving bookmarks, and inspirational verse,
always asking for more stamps,
so the mail could lift off and land.
My dear Aunt became a nun at fourteen,
once said, if it hadn’t been for the convent,
she’d have been a movie star.
She took up the habit
as expected, by her family core.
A while passed,
missed —
Dear One — Rest In Peace!
2/4/2018
*Passed away several years ago.
These shaded scars may alarm,
Yet in my eyes, they are surely painted.
Scorned love that which won’t harm
In my sigh of relief I cry to this, tainted.
Fire lustfully denies the everso carnaging fate.
Torn apart by the advantage of its flaws,
I am morley sewed up in these lion claws.
I am surely bowed up in famen i did cause.
Take my flower
And take my name.
Don’t leave a crumb.
Don’t leave me numb.
Apologies won’t phase
In this love-land daze.
Bruises I Hem, in which shade,
Paint over the pale flesh I jade.
Flying in a strong state of contentment,
I turn back to find my eyes are closed.
I am nothing but a seeping resentment
In a life of dreary follies, now disposed.
The Selfish Egos of War Poetry Contest
Craig Cornish
It's a normal day in LA's Westside.
Shots fired. Another homicide.
Police, EMTs, and coroners predisposed
to the front lines of the disposed.
A shower of bullets, another blood bath,
yellow-taped, chalked outlines mar the public's path.
It's a war out there, the games are in overtime,
and sudden death is just a passing crime.
Drug Lords crawling out from the gutter
in search of their bread and butter,
driving a low-riding Mercedes,
carrying 14-year-olds dressed up as ladies,
peddling their crack,
and shooting turf invaders in their back.
Homies' power trip lights the dark side of the city,
without any regard for life or showing any pity.
The crib's manifestation, filled with a rat's infestation,
where egos fly to the nests of damnation.
FAM AND AMERICA DON'T CARE
Those clothes you wear
Your grey white hair
And yes you dare to ignore me
Compromise and exploit me
You don’t care
You don’t care
Am I too old to love?
Am I too young to use my pension?
Did I mention?
You have to see all you have to survive
Almost be homeless, destitute just too be alive
What now
FAM AND AMERICA DON'T CARE
Almost have to tell a lie
Just to be treated human
That home you once own
Mortgaged and sold
The soup you’re having is refurbish bone;
Now your FAM and government want to place you in a nursing home
What’s going on?
FAM AND AMERICA DON'T CARE
Those rings on your hands
Some of them grand
Grandpa gave you them
Cousin Johnny pawned them off
He even sold your antique wooden cross
And yes, we ignore you
Oh, yes we have disposed you
What have you got left to live for?
Can’t even afford my breathe
That and my heartbeat all I’ve got left
FAM AND AMERICA DON'T CARE
We don’t care
We got yours
And now it’s ours
Not it’s fair
You are too old to love
And we have no room for you
You’ll just git in the way
Grey white hair old lady
Did I mention?
All that money from you and grandpa’s pension
Some of it we spent and
Now that you’re destitute, displaced, resting in this nursing home
We no longer visit you
Guess one day the orderly
Gonna open up your door and see you in your bed
But by then you’ll be DEAD
And gone on to glory!!!!!!!
Those clothes you wear
FAM AND AMERICA DON'T CARE
yET YOU Will be IN your salvation robe your glory clothes you’ll wear to your new home in heaven?
12/12/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
Memories, dear memories, I hold them close,
Treasures from the past fondly disposed,
In photographs, innocent faces smile,
I cherish each name, remembered for a while.
Teachers, mentors, strict yet kind,
Imparting knowledge, shaping young minds,
With endless patience, they guided our way,
Through confusion, they helped us find our say.
Young love's crush, a soaring feeling,
Her presence lit my days, joy revealing,
Her sight ignited my soul's cheer,
But alas, my love, she didn't appear.
Teases and whispers reached her ear,
Revealing my secret, my heart's sincere,
A snub, a heartache, my love returned,
Falling grades, my emotions churned.
Graduation day, a bittersweet farewell,
My school molded me, a story to tell,
A thousand thanks, though not enough to say,
To those who helped me grow, each day
Another day
Like so many others
Like so many to come
Most times struggling, forcing
Noteworthiness
Into the nameless moments
And rote transitions
Churning from task to task
The voices, faces of the
Everyday morph
Into human white noise
Elegant yet within the flow
Placid along the banks
That line the hours
Our world
And those that help us
Occupy it
Reminders of our better
Sometimes desired
Selves
Float, scatter and connect us
All at once
We proceed feeling
We all will continue
That our stage of evolution
Our birthright
And shared generation
Keeps us on par
On task with sustainability
And then
It doesn't
When one of us strays
From the pack
Not by choice
Not by virtue
When one of our own
Provides a mirror we cannot
Will not
Hang ourselves
And it forces our seemingly
Rosy lens to crack and fail us
Tearing*, tearing**
The avid days into recollections
Far more real than
Previously disposed
Far more meaningful than
We care to admit
A nudge towards lessening
The ethereal we seek
Gravity in its purest form
You were the lucky one
Exempt from its grasp.
*as in rip
**as in cry
(1/31/09)
This country
These people
have pushed me to this edge
The ledge was never that stable
My people are beat in the head with labels
I guess that's why my condition is unstable
Our troops who fight this war
are battling two foes
Amerikkka and our brothers & sisters
who are high off this matrix taking no dose
They're conditioned to accept
this condition, brainwashed by this system
at Amerikkka's front gate it reads
house negros wanted, free admission
It's sickening
Yeah we say we tired
but all I see is marching and protesting
Why abide by the laws & statues
when they use that as a weapon against us
We been diagnosed with a sick-nus
What is it gonna take for us rise up & strap up
I can still hear amerikkka laughing at us
Our pain our struggle its a joke to them
they hold up signs March in solidarity
claim they feel our pain
but not enough to bang wit us militarily
they sided wit the beast
the only reason they're here
is because this is a state of the police
I actually hate that chant
no justice, no peace
I'm done talking, I've said enough
anyone who believes violence isn't the answer
obviously hasn't been patient enough
The system doesn't hold them accountable
So we will do what should've
been done a long time ago
Coup d'état
Stand with us or become
the ones who get disposed