Long Disposing Poems
Long Disposing Poems. Below are the most popular long Disposing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disposing poems by poem length and keyword.
Curse of mutation
On just one gene
Needing salvation
Get it clean
First comes the emotion
Then come the shakes
They get these notions
Everyone thinks they're flakes
Some are highly intelligent
But the wiring is disordered
(I am stilling working on this one. Anyone have any suggestions? Sara This disease is in
clusters in families affects approximately 1in 10,000 people similiar to a cross in Parkinson
and Alzheimers with dementia similiar to schizorphrenia. There is no medicine, no treatment,
and one just has to wait until the symptoms start. There is genetic testing now which can tell
if one has the gene and if the repeats are high enough that the person will come down with
the disease themselves. People who have this disease are more prone to using illegal drugs,
too much alcohol, get trouble with the law because of these, and are prone to having multiple
sexual partners because they are seeking something to treat themselves for the depression
that comes with the illness. There is hope in stem cell research to come up with a treatment
for this illnes and other similiar illnesses. This illness is an mutation on the CAG in ones
genetic coding with too many CAG and it effects the glutamine protein which is in every cell
in ones body. The illness wrecks havoc on ones brain causing brain cells to die too soon and
the body can't keep up with disposing of the cells or make new ones fast enough to replace
the dead ones. When a person finds out it is in their family, then they live with the fear will it
be my fate.)
Form:
"Stripped of a physical body,
[individualistic] mind stands naked,
revealed startlingly
for what it has always been;
the architect of our [shared] reality."
Sogyal Rinpoche
Stripped of a spiritual mind,
bodies lie nakedly dis-potentiated,
undominated,
indomitable,
undomesticatable,
de-commodified,
startlingly unveiled
for why we have always evolved here
in regenerative Earth's life-giving environment,
Historically revolved
and culturally regenerated
through DNA bicameral dynamic reiterating spirals,
bilateral nature/spirit animation,
humane/divine co-inspirations
Unfolding
refolding
prefolding
dipolar co-arising folds
strings
frames
paradigmatic fields
Composing
recomposing
discomposing
disposing
uncomposing
precomposing
this fractal-binomial structure
for systemic ecological restructuring
of each moment's regenerative/degenerative
empowering/disempowering
enlightening/dissociating potential
Ego/Eco-systemic rebecoming,
becoming
unbecoming
precoming,
coming
Autonomously stripped
atomic synergy,
embodied longing
within multiculturing waves
of co-arising integrity,
naked mind belonging
Atomic Canary
Angels seed
The death bell tolls to the masses
Putin ill be your dog
Netanyaho ill be your dog
I love this land
This is where I want yo die
Sing a song
Soul from the Earth
All of us tresspass
Some other country wants your ass
Not direct assimilate
You out on a street leaving your home
Lay down your arms
Leave torture to horror shows and horror shoes
A Cruel subjugation to remain
No name Generals
Agressive canaries
I saw angels renegation
Turn your water on
War be a boring
So make some tea
Innocence of a god prayer word
The innocence of a crime
Defeat me arches back back back
Disposing substance OG
Evil tourists
Fake rich
All in the way
We take your one life away
So much truth in homeless
Cherished mansion
A surreal prosperity
A tattered shack
In front of my fireplace
I read a book
Its not Captain Hook
It's time to see what is
One life and what we give and what we take
Who decides
Our fate
A parade requires a horde of supporting cast to put on a show:
Platoons of committees plus cops to control the traffic flow.
But an indispensable element of any successful parade,
Is the ever-viligant crew of the poop and scoop brigade!
A parade ain't complete without John Deere and Farmall tractors,
And a legion of politicians and other such obnoxious detractors.
There's the usual haughty equestrians riding prancing steeds,
Followed by the scoop brigade disposing of equine misdeeds!
Members of the marching bands must be careful where they tread,
Being very alert for unforeseen obstacles that may lie ahead.
But with a crack poop and scoop brigade that is really on the ball,
They can march with resolute stride stepping in nothing at all!
A parade must have silly clowns and a queen of something or other,
Colorful floats, fire engines and classic cars trailing one another.
Some even feature giraffes and elephants plodding down the street,
Posing a special challenge to the brigade but they won't concede defeat!
You've got to tip your fedora to those stalwart scoop brigades.
Without their attention to detail and participation in parades,
And dealing with emergencies without the slightest cue,
Many awkward and stinky situations could very well ensue!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Nero fiddled while Rome burning
A poet dead at home while singing
There lived a poet,a fisherman
In pain of cancer the hangman
No cure, beyond medication
A radio recorder,his last requisition
His spouse acquired it in no time to wait
Disposing a wardrobe,the only home mate
Lying his head on her laptop
Recording voice hurried up
Born a poem in pain of labour disturbing peace
"My heart is beating today in a rapid pace
Don't know it's calling bell for my demise
You took care of me all the time,my wife,in wise
River is flooded,sudden like a broken pipe
When the crop is still in ripe
The lives of you three on the point of knife
The lives of you three on the point of knife
My dreams crashed to pieces like a broken wind screen
Waving death near the bed is red not green
My last breath to cease before dusk
Darling,announce my demise to the village, in no luck
God bless you! in battle and the two little in kick
God bless you! In battle and the two little in kick
Nothing is left to consume at home
Without bothering others dome
Darling,carry our children in the path all went bright
Wipe out your grief in this belief at least to slight
No belongings saved for the death to grab along
No kith and kin with kind belong
No harm,hurry,
Remarry!
If the road is remote for you to drive and carry
If the road is remote for you to drive and carry
What to do at this late?
No gates found to get out of fate
Time has come nigh for my journey from this earth
You be my spouse also in my next of birth
Children..............,............!
Neighbors in vigilance of the pin drop silence proceeded
To witness the poet and his wife lying dead before the poem concluded
They found the radio still tuning in full scale
A poem in Sinhala in it told an untold tale
The whole village cried like rain with gale
The purpose of Nobel prize is in total fail!
Grass stalks rise upward.
to a head of fading gold
Their wings were fully spread.
a cerulean cape,
The morning smoke blows.
The willow tree was still drenched.
with lengthy icicles akin
Cat's whiskers
Daffodil drums sing an ode.
a parade in the clearing dew
on strewn gossamer
akin a wedding veil
Dawn weeps crimson tears.
and I'm just a whim
to embrace the richness of the dawn
as fresh as a chew
from a crisp apple
Rivers trickle under the branches.
Crocus blossoms in the melting snow
soiling their newly opened purple heads
dribble, dribble, dribble
Cherry blossoms burst open in my heart.
as young ducks.
velvet of a sunny yellow hue.
glide across the smooth lagoon.
Disposing of hatching eggs
of translucent porcelain.
an obvious awakening that appeared
would never happen.
Written: February 26, 2023
Your Option Again Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Festered lament maddens me
Why must the despair of my heart’s desire
Truly enlighten me?
I rested among the sick and lame
And found myself no different from the rest
For a troubled mind holds endless poverty
Penniless regret marks as a sickness no doctor can prescribe
For the bottles of balm are empty
And medicinal hope grows angry
I derived my madness from creativity
Revealing the remains of my humanity
‘Cool off, child’, I heard a soft voice whisper
But can’t you see I live off the flame?
It asks for no nickel or dime!
But it seeks to destroy all the same
The small voice returns at times
And often my heart listens
But we all listen
And only believe in the inevitability of pain
I speak of the majority
Not of you
For you are blessed and beyond disgrace
You have a life—a beautiful face
And most of all, you are rich
With attributes I can only dream of
You are rich with life and purpose
Holding inscrutabilities I can only wish to understand
You lift me without touch or care
Disposing me from your treasures
Because though you meant no harm,
You are rich with blessing
And must remove all possible threats
So my festered lament
Remains an enlightenment
I can say I am rich in poverty
But you are forever rich
In Mystery
What hurts the most is knowing
I may be wrong about you
For you are so obscure in this mind
And as empty as I am I wish to be filled
In your richness
But we all are filled to the brim in the end
And sometimes I cannot distinguish the good from the bad
There is nothing I wish to discard
So I hoard in constant deficiency and despair
And I hoard the idea that you are beyond compare
That you are rich
And always will be richer
Than me—or he
To cleanse your life, empty out it's past and move on, to leave no explanations, no pity, no shame. To usher the insensitive to the living and the not, to delete faces from your photographs and smile once more. I'm owed no explanation, as I was never bought and was never returned, but my past litters with others excrement. I'm sure you'll do it again and you've done it before, used and disposed, cared and then lost interest; I'm more sure that there'll be occasions where I'll be or have been the same. At the disposing end though, it's instinct to look for recovery, the need to fight is always pointless nowadays. But what can you do?
There's a million different ways to move on or to diminish, and to do either one you have to experience both. It's your prerogative to do as you please as it is mine, and that's all.
What we all thought had long since passed
Well that period of time didn't really last
Standing there on the borders of the Ukraine
At any moment the missiles could begin to rain
He is Syria's Assad's terror regime's only support
And for Iran they simply await their next arms import
What ever He says that He will do, He will do the opposite
So as to the taking of the Ukraine it should be quick and swift
And now with our Military budget being so cut back
Seeing the old set territories and where we now lack
And even as they move closer seemingly sitting on His hands
Is a world leader(not regional) drawing another line in the sands
He promised the disarming Ukraine the protection of the United States
Disposing of all Nukes in 2112 the rest of the Ukraine now sits and waits
Not for the United States for they are positively sure we won't be there
What the Ukraine is waiting for is the inevitable attack by the Soviet Bear
They often ask me how I like it,
this move I made in 2022.
And I tell them that my
likability is rather mixed.
"How's the rain, heat,
and humidity?", they ask.
And I tell them, "It's plentiful".
They ask if I miss my many friends
and the shopping centers just up
the street as opposed to having to
drive 17 miles to acquire clothes to
wear and food to eat. And I answer them
'Yes' to all of the above.
They ask if I am adjusting to disposing of
myriads of wasps that never tire of building nests;
Or if I've seen a black bear;
Or if I'm tired of snakes. And I tell them a black bear greeted me at the bedroom window and quickly went away. And I tell them I've had
one sting from wasps and no snake bites.
They ask if I walk through parks or
along sidewalks like I used to. And
I tell them that's one of the things
that I miss the most.
They ask me about city sounds like horns,
sirens, and airplanes. And I tell them I'm
growing fond of bird songs and whispering winds
blowing through the trees. And I tell them that in the
rural, I'm not as free to take my leisure walking along
the countryside as I once did along the three cul-de-sacs
in my neighborhood. And...
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