Long Essays Poems
Long Essays Poems. Below are the most popular long Essays by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Essays poems by poem length and keyword.
Marvel films have a way of grabbing our interest.
Superman, Batman, and Robin can't interrupt.
Superheroes are a common childhood fantasy.
Some dwell on villains who are full of fallacy.
Everyone wishes they could fly or be a superhero.
The pride of possessing their own unique billow.
Our desires for a flight might shift each day.
And I've been obsessed with writing essays.
When I'm upset, I strive to be clever and back.
There are also fine days, that I wish to be on track.
Children who seem to be ill, suffering, and insane
I wish I could heal away their pain and grief again.
I often wish I could create money out of thin air.
But then I realize that I would surely turn evil there.
Instead, I'd yearn to bestow hope on the world!
Probably, alike garlic, finding a cure is absurd.
Then I realized that all of us held distinct skills.
We all are born with imagination, and this is real.
That incredible receptacle you name your body.
It's artwork, as love, passion, and care to embody.
March 22, 2023
Marvel Superheroes Supervillians and Superanimals Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Multidimensional Moments
Adoration for a beautifully constructed emotional expression
Adulation for the seductive signs of Armageddon
Admiration as the selective stories pain of the times begin to lessen
Elevation of the mood as I lift myself toward the concept of true heaven
Blessing all those who sit below the longitude of the hopeful
Testing the throws of heat in the snow as my mood borders on woeful
Resting all that I know as my age starts to show while he seems to be a know all
Jesting as I go as I rock two and fro while they perceive me to be antisocial
So much to say about who’s got the right of way that it’s now becoming reductive
As such they play with naysayers and pretend to be productive
A crutch to bear the weight of all that I know to be instructive
A softened touch of someone who falls in the category of self destructive
Empirical conversations that aren’t allowed to leave the gym
Satirical observations so acute that you cannot help but grin
The miracle of the resurrection and the most original of sin
Brings lyrical reflections like the purposelessness of a mobile phone without a sim
Multidimensional theories written by the brightest minds in physics
Non conventional hearings of a mind that writes essays about social civics
Interventional cries from the outside about not selling out with gimmicks
One dimensional moments in decline as I decide to cease the lyrics
By Elizabeth Moroz copyright
I’m spending the Christmas holiday with Lisa and her family in NYC.
My parents are finishing 2021 in Africa, with “Doctors Without Borders.” “Step” (my step father) is a heart surgeon and my mom is an anesthesiologist, so they’re a traveling, self contained, double-dutch, operating theater. Yep, now that they’ve shuffled-off the dead weight of their children - they can finally have some FUN.
Here, in NYC we’re back in restrictive spaces as we face-down Omicron this holiday - but I still feel free. Our course work’s been dumb, but now we’ve escaped the strangling, slavery of tedious days - forget hours of reading, fact-sheets, writing essays, and solving chemistry equations - we’ve got 25 days of Christmas vacation!
Lisa’s having a sleepover tonight, friends Will and Karen are coming up (Lisa lives on the 50th floor, they live on the 46th) and we have every distraction known to man.
Tonight was supposed to be the building (220) Christmas party - a formal wear Christmas ball - with a live orchestra - but now (thanks Omicron) it’s an elevator party - we’ll go up to the 70th floor, pick up goodie bags and dinners then return yo-yo like, to Lisa’s.
We can escape our interior habitat to a large balcony where it’s windy and 34 degrees. The sky is a clear black, like an inverted cup of coffee and the stars look French. The city lights dazzle like a billion stars surrounding the black hole of Central Park.
Lisa’s dad is explaining to Karen (10), in some detail, how his shiny, deluxe, outdoor barbeque - with it’s lid open like a radar dish, can detect reindeer and send updates to his phone in real-time - but Karen looks skeptical.
I hope you all have a wonderful, safe, Christmas and that the reindeer find you wherever you are.
i think they expected blood
when they first cut him
with their razor sharp piano wires
wrong
ink not blood cells flowed
poems and stories
plays, essays and jokes
his ideas
her thoughts spilled unto the streets
covered the concrete
the pavement too
each and every dash of white
that mark the roads
a verse became
first one and then another
lined up
in a chaotic
disciplined
structured
straight
double line
the yellow lines bucked
fought like wild stallions
but eventually she won
and he corralled them into simple thoughts
they came looking for death
they found us
we don’t bleed
i warned them
they are
morally
blind
deaf
dumb
they dare to raise a foil
the pen is
and always will be
mightier than the sword
the moral i fear
you can not
delete
satisfy
pay off
over feed
a taste for meat
humans came upon the earth violent
the species behave like vampire
left to their own devices
one day we would be down to one
and the winner is
we all know how that story ends
we will not let it happen
pens in hand
we will write
swirl
curl
punctuate
underline
we will strike the keyboard
like drums of peace
or
even speak through a microphone thing
we will win by any peaceful means
a ruthless peace
be afraid
be very afraid
we are armed
olive branches
words of love
poignant
full circle ideas
we are armed
with the word
one
en guard
Whenever my days seem long,
And all my tasks turn out wrong,
And I wish the things I had not said
And feels like turning over and play dead...
Ha, I sit down ruefully and I write.
When someone somewhere gets hurt,
When a lively flower bites the dust,
When somewhere someone's heart breaks
And sneaks into a corner and quietly aches...
Oh, I sit down woefully and I write.
When someone smiles and shares his joy,
And takes some time out of his life to enjoy,
When he takes the right road with the end in sight
And takes it with true faith and grateful delight...
Yea, I sit down joyfully and I write.
Whenever someone dares to dream,
And essays to swin upstream,
When someone undertakes an arduous pilgrimage
And reaches ashore after a stormy voyage...
Yep, I sit down hopefully and I write.
On the wings of the wind I write,
On the waves of the sea I write,
I write for all to see, feel and hear,
Write I about love, hate, faith and fear...
O yea, lo! Now thou know why I write.
~03/07/2013
~Contest: Your Personal Favorite
~Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
I scribbled quickly
As they wrote their final exam
Little notes of appreciation
A special individualized message
Thanking each student
For having been in my class
And for bringing me joy
Reminding each one
Of the potential that lies within
For each is a remarkable individual
A personalized message
Of encouragement
And a shared Bible verse
Psalm 37: 4
This was a special class
Made up of pastors
A journalist
An architect
Adults from different walks of life
Some married
Others single
Some shy
Others bold
All wanting to become
Better writers
What an amazing group
My French came in handy
With my students from Algeria
How I loved their French accent
As they tried to pronounce
The bothersome words in English
Leaving a never ending smile on my lips
After they spent an hour writing
I made them pause
To have home baked brownies
I’d made from scratch
Along with a soft drink
A time to relax…
Refreshed
They continued on their essays
And I decorated each note
With stickers
“Great Work”
“Way to Go”
“Excellent”
“You are a Star”
And for the women
Lots of hearts!
I love hearts
They decorate my office
Pillows
Key rings
Earrings
And now
My little notes
Which came straight from my heart
Each one got to exchange the finished essay
For a handwritten note from the teacher
I said with a sheepish grin
“These stickers are not because you are a child….
But…because I am!
I am a child at heart!"
That brought smiles
And a hug from
The journalist from Brazil
“I’m going to cry,” she said.
As she gave me a bear hug
My heart sang
They had learned to love writing
What greater joy could be mine?
The Brazilian journalist
Met me in church last Sabbath,
Gave me another warm hug and said,
“Teacher, thank you for the note
You inspired me to do my best.”
And what she couldn’t articulate well
Sparkled in her eyes
And danced in her hand motions
Silly little stickers
Simple little words
A whole lot of love
Love for my students
EVERYONE needs some encouragement
Everyone needs to know
That inside the heart resides
A wealth of beauty longing to be expressed
A piece of the soul that longs to live forever
In the written word
I thank God I’m a teacher
After all,
I’m in good company
For, the GREATEST Teacher of all time
Jesus Christ
Is my mentor!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
MEMORY OF NOTHING
Listen:
Drag branches comeback
Across the forest floor:
Knowledge of the rough¡
At water’s edge
I gather some things up:
“Happy Ending Story”.
We’ve the time to give the Babel Tower
A close reading.
Awful good, Tú
As Roy A. Rappaport’s
Ritual... as Communication and as State.
Our preferences might be
Toward more emphasis
On species places:
Smooth textures of dead wood
Knowledge of our hands on arms
The body-art of ********
Drinking cocoa
And tend to the faith
With a Vampire’s short stick
That smells of infinite urine
As Madonna.
History reveals itself to us
In this way:
Poetry, Tales, Essays are pamphlets
Of impossible interest
Multiplying voices-human, voices-animal
Voices-plant
Voice-life of Earth
As Dan O’Neill’s
Holiday for Cynics.
Look, little one
Courtney Love
We live this close to disaster
There is no turning back
From the tops of the trees
Which are so dense
Almost no sky is visible
Only the odor dilates the nostril
And quickens the heart
On a marijuana tortilla.
The buddhists have been tellig us
That the Self (Ego)
As we conceive of it
Is an illusion.
A good tip
Thinking about Gurney Norman’s
Jack and His Ego.
Is it?
It is that we are of a Time-Sexual
Wherein all species has been joined
To the Wo/Man
Of *****Sapiens
And Life is a single exercise of Cannibals
In constantly elevating towers
Of Bureaucracy.
Nothing in Somethingg
Something in our Nothingness.
Troubled time O Raheem,
Empty, each of my palm,
In truth, world nor its dream,
In falsehood there’s no Ram!
_______________________________________________
Raheem was a saint poet of medieval time in India. This translation comes from one of his couplets; following is its transliteration:
ab raheem mushkil padi, gadhe dou kam;
sanche to jag nahin, juthe milen na ram.
Raheem beautifully essays the reality in this world. If one were to follow the path of truth, there is this world for him nor its dream. In falsehood, obviously one has to sacrifice the blessings of God-- Ram as Raheem puts it.
________________________________________________
Translations |09.01.14 |
Marks can get you a degree or fame, But life doesn't play the same game. You memorize laws, quote the rules Still stumble when life bends the tools You can top every subject and win every race, Yet still lose direction in life’s lonely maze. You chase good grades because that’s what they praise, Yet no one teaches how to survive the hard days. You polished essays, following every rule But life has no syllabus and that’s it’s cruelest rule When the bills knock hard or the gas stove sparks, No one ask’s u about your calculus flair They'll ask you to mend what life tears apart, Not just recite what you've learnt by heart. They'll need you to fix a flat tire's plight, or cook a roti when the stove's not right. So, focus on skills that truly matter, Not just chapters that make your grades flatter. The answers that matter don't come from a page, They find you somewhere between fear and age Perhaps, Books may give you a career or name, But only wisdom teaches you how to play life's game. - MOKSHA JAIN
"Softly the Light Arrives"
Conduit opening
souls transfigure
sold on free will
emancipated
in
time
revolutionary
the higher self is found
the connection aligns
love
unconditional
harmonized
ascension,
softly the light
arrives
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
"Isn't It Lovely"/ Billie Eilish
https://youtu.be/xirk18P889U
transfigure
verb.
transform into something more beautiful or elevated.
ascension
"Spiritual Ascension is the expansion of consciousness. It could also go by other names such as Spiritual Awakening or Enlightenment. This process doesn’t happen all at once. Instead it is a constant layering to give you the chance to adjust to the energy requirements of the different frequencies. As you ascend you realize that everything that exists is somehow interconnected to the whole.
Through this Spiritual Ascension process, your energy and vibration is becoming lighter, your consciousness is expanding and your thoughts, and beliefs about life are taking on a new meaning. Your emotions, and those of others, become understood from a deeper level and you go through life with more ease and joy.
But this adjustment can be uncomfortable and cause “ascension symptoms” as a result of holding on to limitations and resistance. For the highly sensitive individual, the ascension process can be a bit more challenging as emotional trauma, that became stuck in their energy field, comes up for clearing. This clearing may slow you down as it works through the density created within you, but it is a very important process because it allows space for higher consciousness light to enter."
https://www.theopenspirit.com/ascension-symptoms.html
Ascension
meaning
https://www.yourdictionary.com/ascension
Blogger, Charles Einstein
https://charleseisenstein.org/short-reflection-essays/ascension/
Blogger, Slade Robinson
https://sladeroberson.com/blog/technology/is-humanity-ascending-or-what.html
Theosophy.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Initiation_(Theosophy)