Long Disrupts Poems
Long Disrupts Poems. Below are the most popular long Disrupts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disrupts poems by poem length and keyword.
Embarkation upon meditation...
Believe me you upon manifestation
regarding Das godaddy bing linkedin
with avast cosmic consciousness
self induced light hypnotic trance
I become enthralled
unless wife disrupts intent concentration
calling out "Matt...Matt...Matt"
bajillion times Googleplex
(slight hyperbole for literary effect),
subsequently courtesy
disembodied voices
deliver poetic inspiration
without forcefully summoned,
rather gently coax (zeal lust lee)
amidst Smokey and Bandits spiritus mundi
plethora of discordant
indistinct jabbering murmurs
requiring exacting golong strategy
kickstarting coalescence regarding
faintest hint analogously harboring
shipping news a boat
reeling in catch of the day
thus, fingers snakishly
slither skitter, sidle
at greased lightning pace
across Macbook Pro laptop keyboard
feverishly unleashing
unexpected brainstorming tsunami
recalling steely apothegm
strike while the iron iz hot,
thus such epiphany occurred
moments ago - in case
ye heard "Eureka" shouted
loud, free and clear
without moment to lose
yours truly brooked
stream of consciousness
ignoring flash flood warnings
slapped down one after another
figurative pontoon bridge
all the while skirting
eddies, whirlpools, fierce whitecaps
fortunately hauling unexpected
magnificent linkedin kindled
sense and sensibility
yours truly rendered speechless
(most time non verbal when writing),
additionally hodgepodge mashup
offers no rhyme nor reason,
yet burst of pooled
imponderable gushing silent spring
(courtesy ghost of Rachel Carson)
currently did flickr
demanding immediate typing
though poetic license expired
please don't tell commission,
nor chief word den
these unpredictable eruptions
(most likely indistinguishable
turkey in the straw gobbledygook
to the untrained eye),
rather good n plenti
camouflaged indecipherable creativity
(nope, not even practiced experts
keen on esoteric etymological arts)
stymied to understand)
mine swiftly styled harry tailored
gibberish oh baying avant
(to assign long sentence
upon Matthew Scott),
which "FAKE" premature ejaculation
incorporating poppycock mishmash
screened for your viewing discomfort
unbelievably came to this homeless tramp,
while he plodded across no man's land
with hud door hubble mojo risin.
See them walking down the street in fine tailor made suits, Jackets and ties to match and expensive shoes to match their suites; their haircuts is sharp and their perfume can still be smelt after dark .They are holding executive bags in their hands and a motion is spinning around in their head to kill your ideas before they materialize.
See the bureaucrats in the bar drinking wine and crunching figures, they just had a hefty lunch and plan to oppose the bill before the votes begin, they don’t agree to anything and they drain your energy before the day begins, there is no solution to solve their problems and the road that they are traveling on is a very difficult one.
See the bureaucrats in the room getting ready for a meeting that will begin at noon, they have the agenda laid out in front of them and a master plan that will land them in heaven.
The bureaucrats are waiting at the gate so strike a deal with them before it is too late. Their visions are limited and they are not creative. Once they formulate a plan they will stick to it until it lands them in a precipice ; they are quarreling among themselves how to spread the resources among the community, they are selfish, stingy and mean and they eat the gravy off before the negotiator walk through the gate and give the pure rice and flour to eat without vegetable or meat.
I stood outside the revolving door watching them coming and going, they move around with a sense of urgency but nothing was really happening, a fake smile appears on their face and I watch them passing papers from place-to-place muttering something out loud .
Suddenly a man stood up from the back and start to shout, he was angry about a proposal that was overlooked by the one at the top, they kept carrying him around in circles and the sudden outburst shocked everyone in room.
It came like a missile straight through the window and disrupts the proceedings,, they argue among themselves and the distractions continue all the way up to twelve, the meeting was over before it began, they could not control their raucous emotions ; two men rolling in the dirt over a simple words, the Bureaucrats are sleeping in my bed and you have got to remove them before the gangster bruised their heads.
The Bureaucrats are moving around the town in shorts sleeves and long gown.
The shape of the world is not a man standing on a globe, or a man dressed in white robe, it is the shape of the heart that leaves you scrambling in the dark. It resonates through the machines and disrupts your personal dreams.
It climbs up the Chimney looking for something to prove, while scattering black sooth on top of roof. It leaves you stranded at the gate waiting on something that will never come and so destiny will have to get up and run.
The world stands aloof in front of me making silent music in the trees the wild duck is swimming in the pond with the little ducklings follow along. I watched the morning suns rises above the wall scatterings its heat all over the streets melting the asphalts underneath's my feet.
The road in front leads to nowhere , don't listen to them because they have nothing to share, mythology and legendary baked in the sun, you have to complete the task before the day is done.
I can feel your presences in my space, I am trying to tell you something about the human race, the clock will not tick until you get me out of the ditch, hard hands will not do, tender and loving hands will move you along.
If the garden could speak, Adam would come out crawling on his knee begging for mercy and the serpent would have licked the apple juice above his knees and then he would have understood the meaning of glory.
It was not a hard fought battle, it was just the conscience of man devouring the pestilence hiding in the desert sand.
I could feel the thumping in his heart and the agony that he felt from the start. He didn't want a ceasefire so he had to fight against his innate desire.
He was given an ultimatum and if he did not accept it his days would be done. He knew what the fight was all about, it has nothing to do with the people's shout. It is tied to years of history, the rejection, persecution and hate and fulfilling the promise that is tied up in the gates , oh how his heart breaks.
He wants to fulfill the biblical prediction holding David and goliath in two different hands. The philistine were bruised and left walking around without shoes, and on the final day he drove the philistine away and swallowed his breath and retreat to the war cabinet with a map, a pick axe and a hammer.
From Gabbatha, before the judgment seat,
a winding, tortured road: Golgatha's end.
His flesh in shreds, he staggers on His feet,
rough timbers grate excoriated skin.
The lines from Jesse's root are drawn by thorns,
the precious blood, in rivulets, runs dark.
To slaughter sent, the lamb of seven horns,
unblemished ere disfigured by their marks.
Exchanging doubt for will on Olivet,
and then to be betrayed by Judas' kiss;
just thirty pieces bought that blood and sweat.
Sweet Jesus, has it truly come to this?
'Fore Pontius Pilate, seat of Roman power,
civility, barbaric and uncouth,
the lord of a dominion cruel and dour
is juxtaposed 'gainst witness to the Truth.
The keepers of the Torah did not know,
or knowing, chose to look the other way.
Prophetic much disrupts the status quo;
Messiah sacrificed so they might stay.
A carpenter, he learned to dress the wood,
a trade ’twas handed down with father's love.
Ironic then to fashion heaven's door,
with arms outstretched, give access to above.
The lots and insults cast further disgraced
this giver of new wine and broken bread;
above his crown of thorns, a sign was placed
with words that bore the truth of what he said.
The first line read, "Jesus of Nazareth."
The second signified Judean king,
a title earning chief of priest's rebuff.
His own received him not, "He's no such thing."
And so on center stage, the bitter cup,
with cohorts stealing parts to left and right.
The serpent bronze is high and lifted up,
and ushers in humanity's dark night.
Amidst it all, a faith ’twas Roman-cast;
observing, the centurion was awed
in witnessing how Christ gave up his last,
"This Jesus truly was the Son of God!"
The earth was rent, the inner veil was torn
as though creation's pain sought some relief.
The crowd, returning home, beat breasts and mourned;
the women, at a distance, watched in grief.
An upright man who did not give consent,
a certain Joseph took his body down,
wrapped Him in strips before the day was spent,
and thus was Jesus buried in the ground.
(from the passion narratives of the gospels)
Fifth Place Winner
for the A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
sponsored by Brian Strand
written 04/11/2022
Quivering lowest limb
namely mine little feet
medication side effects
analogous running dead heat
most often while fast asleep
the missus claims thrashing feet
easily mistaken for epilepsy
disrupts her pleasant dreams
claiming legitimate grounds
for kickstarting divorce
bachelorhood amenable
versus her furious
expletive laced outbursts
crying out loud
further under_scoring, necessitating,
mandating, accentuating...
feasible solution for Pete sakes,
thus favoring me night owl schedule
mine circadian rhythm
easily reoriented,
reestablished, realigned
when she goes beddie bye boo
I feel unbounded energy reserves
bubbles forth courtesy microcosmic
La Brea tar pits interestingly enough
preserving fossilized traces,
when shut eye cycle
regarding yours truly
synchronized more optimally
with counterpart, which
vagary linkedin with
one or more
pharmacological prescriptions,
yet this mister loathe
to forego synthesized agent
that calm emotional provocateurs
particularly diminishing
frequency and intensity
formerly debilitating panic attack,
which vestige chronic anxiety
prevalent thank you sweaty hands
profuse dripping perspiration
during torpid heat waves,
where combination
central air conditioning/
(albeit malfunctioning)
doubles as warmth
generating source
one bedroom
apartment unit B44,
which aforementioned detail
lacks relevance in toe toe
with healing power of
selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors
cuz clinical depression
linkedin with diagnosis
constituting genetic package
biologically bequeathed
to this anonymous hominid
amazingly graced with
psychological ills affecting
academic and employment functionality,
hence lifetime struggle
to live hand to mouth
hardscrapple existence
plaguing dependents and spouse
dealing with mailer daemons
compromising her mental health
translated as without income,
therefore financial shortcomings
lured by castles in the air
pipedreams, a lottery winner,
I dream of genie - in a bottle...
which farfetched stroke of luck
less likely than
getting struck by lightning
with sunshine illuminating
man cave within
which scrivener scribbles away.
Liberty, Equality and Fraternity, three precious ideals, blinded by the darkness of xenophobia.
The Republic, democracy and human rights are the pillars of a just society, but in the depths of Marianne, their fragility reminds us that nothing can be taken for granted.
Perhaps it will be necessary to decapitate a few heads again on the Place de la Concorde, so that the age-old splendor of revolutionary France can be reborn from its ashes.
Foreigners are constantly discriminated against and treated like cattle, their dignity trampled underfoot.
Illegal immigrants, without a residence permit, live in promiscuity, seeking refuge in a nation that rejects them.
The homeless proletarians, scattered in the streets of the homeland of human rights, are proof that equality is slow to become a reality for all.
Stigmatize Africans by systematically associating them with delinquency and drug trafficking,
It is to ignore the segregationist policies, applied in disadvantaged suburbs,
It is choosing to look elsewhere, faced with the cruelty of France's criminal shenanigans in Africa.
Racists, racialists and nationalist supremacists propagate toxic ideologies that divide rather than unite, creating deep fissures in a France with a legacy of slavery and colonialism.
Negrophobic xenophobes are chained to hatred and intolerance, they despise the salutary values ??of inclusion and the riches of diversity.
Enlightened pan-Africanist sub-Saharan Africans carry a vision of solidarity and continental unity, which advocates the search for the realization of Africa's potential.
Terrorism, capitalism and globalism form an explosive cocktail that disrupts the balance of the contemporary world.
Patriotic fascists, racialist stereotypes and colonial reflexes are infringements which hinder the evolution towards a community attached to egalitarian principles.
Under the lights of the slave trade, amnesia is a medicine for all those who want to forget the past and the horrors of the dark pages of the lugubrious history of sweet France.
The Code Noir gave rise to the transatlantic slave trade, and the Code of the Indigenous was the foundation on which colonization rested.
Silicon city
That pulsates,
Both day and night,
The Tech Capital
And the sky, veiled
With urban haze
And dense, sprawling cityscape.
Grey city of its
Gridlocked roads
Surrounded by
Towering skyscrapers
Inspiring
The coder
And the entrepreneur.
Glass city
Of its
Modern offices
And its apartments
Compact and sleek,
New and bold,
A striking, sure testament
Of the presence
Of the FUTURE.
Neon and chrome city
To reinvent
The bustling rhythm
Of its progress
And yet retains
Echoes of the past.
City of early mornings
When the techie
Leaves his flat
And in the busy metro
Taps his laptop
The commuter,
Eyes on screens,
In air-conditioned cars,
Mimics and rushes
To connect
With the world
That fuels their DREAMS
As a true Bengalurean.
City of endless startups
That illuminates the path
Of the innovator
And the visionary
Who disrupts
Tradition,
Complacency,
And long
Established norms.
Green-grey city
A mixture and contrast
That modernises,
Reshapes the landscape
Of time accelerating
That unleashes
And propels,
Surges swiftly
Unstoppable
And holds in
The tech parks,
By the malls
And facing the
Global IT hub
These dreamers
With cutting-edge ideas
Sitting at the edge
Of this vast
Transforming metropolis,
Creating
The digital future
That captivates and challenges.
City of diversity
Of heaped-up talents
With global backgrounds
Who meet online,
Collaborate,
Innovate,
Connect, Expand.
Disrupt,
Complement,
Enrich,
Express themselves,
Coming just
From every corner
Of India and the world
To the heart
Of Bengaluru
And the epicentre
Of South India's
Tech revolution.
And nostalgic old-timers?
The ambitious Newcomers?
All together
They coexist
And merge
Their traditions and
Their aspirations
In progress
And innovation
But New Bengaluru
Carves out for itself, indeed,
The future's share.
A dynamic and complex present
Whose energy
Excites and overwhelms
Leaving digital footprints
In cyberspace
And experiences
Virtual,
And actual,
Fast-paced
And relentless.
If there is a hand that I could shake, I would shake a thousand hands before I walk through the gate, if there is a heart that I could break, I would break ten thousand hearts until I find the correct path.
The journey is not for me alone, it is the gravity that keeps pulling me around and the sentiments that I feel, keeps pinching me on my heels forcing me to confronts my own dreams; it is not the dream that I dream of, it is the dream that the universe force on me and I have to make it my destiny.
I enter the universe searching for a space to stretch but there was so much clutter around, I had to clear up the dead woods from the town and drain the negative energy that is saturated in thin air and cleanse the entire atmosphere.
It is the clutter that surrounds me, that is feasting on my energy and the dogs prowling around the streets at night gathers at the gate and fighting with each other; they have no special home and they keep roaming around the town bawling out at nights and conjuring a dog fight and the young baboon hiding in the tree looking on them like a fierce referee.
If I could create magic in the sea, I would make all the fish come running after me, I would give each one a name and a place to live and build a village on top of the hill with running water connected to the stream and lots of space to add an extra bridge to accommodate the traffic that climb up the hill.
I would entertain the white sharks and the seagulls after dark and put a barrier around the grounds to contain the energy that is moving around and when the task is complete, I will walk to the top of the hill and examine the four corners of the earth and make a wish before I cross over.
I stepped out into the unknown to see what I have found but a multitude of lights surround me and the floodgates creeps up slowly behind me and providence screams loudly in the streets and disrupts my heart beat and daylight burst the door open and I finally crossed over on the other side.
The cat disrupts her thinkable moment, by
attention thou need, she took the torso
and kept it hold from the breast by
used all ways, and kept the stand for
apart the opening window in somnolent
in love instant glaceing the helplessness
terrain in nightfall moonily lasts sky,
after, stands for in deeds’ surge panache
up fictions points then’ sinew really not
her moved away from the window
thus, put-down above rugs in blue
as faithful roommate, busing in breach
And ratified self, at troughs enjoins kitchen
baking feed. Now blank having, his mind
And freedom from images in love stages —
Anew think channels while the nowadays.
Part one narrating snapping crackling, and popping trembling underfoot...,
which ushered poetic reverberations across the universe
A snippet of careering and careening
nocturnal cerebral manifestations
attributed to strong medicament
creating soundless clangorous din
ofttimes diabolical dreams
severely disrupt mine ability
to function throughout rest of day.
An adverse reaction
to one or more prescription medications
intended to combat anxiety, dysthymia, ocd,
and other psychological ills
(prescribed by Elizabeth Clark
Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner)
regularly, severely, and terribly
disrupts sleep of yours truly.
As a for instance recently,
I dreamt figments of mein kampf
fractured into a bajillion little pieces
when the final battle between God and Satan
known as Armageddon occured (situated
within Megiddo Valley),
which I (a diehard skeptic) would not miss
Earth shattering event for the world!
A diabolical entity (quaking with excitement)
accidently (perhaps purposely) let slip
the Apocalypse will strike seven days
after today. Yours truly along with bajillions
of other people held captive upon oblate spheroid
will perish within seven days. Meanwhile,
I plod along boulevard of broken dreams
ho-hum fashion minding my p's and q's, oh
of course giving remaining twenty four letters
of English alphabet their diligent due respect.
So much euphoria suddenly bubbled forth,
where debilitating anxiety would usually churn.
Though giddy with excitement,
(no more plaintive laments about being dirt poor),
yet wincing back concomitant sentiment also arose.
No matter both pseudo and real
contradictory reactions prevailed,
I did not experience anticipatory anxiety
that usually gets triggered regarding
some worrisome circumstance.
The aforementioned debacle
(impossible mission beset seismologists).