Long Ethical Poems
Long Ethical Poems. Below are the most popular long Ethical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ethical poems by poem length and keyword.
Humanoids …
Machine people, we have them at our disposal.
I envy these soul less creatures for they as Angels
do not feel any kind of pain.
Our robot, Ed Burkye is a French guy,
the machine person, although
I do not feel comfortable
with strange person in my home,
rolling in my direction ready to serve.
Now, I will have to endure them in the spaceship.
Ethical as always, hopefully unable to kill.
With them, we will build democracy,
where people are no longer subject
to the will of governments.
Every life counts, all galaxies struggle for life
to witness its beauty, smartness and force.
Nature must is existence.
Conscious machines, great abstracted –
in unconscious state they travel.
These machine people can travel
through millions of years to distant galaxies,
cloning themselves on the way,
some for pleasure, some for business.
They are naturalists, artists or sick with politics.
“No criteria for bacteria,”
and even in multitudes they must strive
to be better, to be greater without lust,
but with power and perfection beyond trust.
They are interrupted
by the communiqué from Celestial Command.
The voice is heard as from the loud speaker.
Gentlemen do not forget,
our purpose is to colonize
with the broader one to expand
the torch of life to other Galaxies.
Conquest of the universe for all humanity,
which of course we represent.
Here three of them: Boson, Raptus and Polonius
are about to board the rocket for liftoff to Mars.
Boson to Raptus and Polonius as they walk to the rocket:
Soon, inexplicable Mars, empty as barren Earthly Moon
and the space above us, cold and lonely,
obscure place will be our home for long.
They entered the rocket.
After the door had closed,-
they took their positions.
Boson started the rocket engine,
allowing liquid hydrogen to enter it.
Fuel was ignited and clouds of smoke
forcefully burst outside.
Inside of the rocket was shaking with huge vibrations,
cosmonauts were sitting as on a volcano.
The rocket with tremendous force had been lifted
and flew into space accelerating,
entering orbital spaceflight,
until it reached escape velocity
at about eleven kilometers per second.
There is no distinction between top and bottom
and weightlessness presented challenges
to their organisms:
cardio-vascular, inner ears’ pains,
weakness of psyche and severe illusions…
The death penalty, a practice rooted in antiquity, continues to evoke controversy and ethical dilemmas in modern society. Despite its purported role in deterring crime and administering justice, the death penalty stands on shaky moral ground and should be abolished for several compelling reasons.
Firstly, the irreversible nature of the death penalty is inherently flawed. In a justice system prone to human error, the risk of executing an innocent person is ever-present. Numerous cases worldwide have revealed wrongful convictions, highlighting the fallibility of judicial proceedings. Once a life is taken, there is no recourse for rectifying such a grievous mistake, perpetuating an irreversible injustice that stains the fabric of society.
Moreover, the death penalty undermines the fundamental value of human life. By sanctioning state-sanctioned killings, societies diminish the sanctity of life and condone violence as a means of resolving conflicts. Such a stance contradicts the principles of compassion, rehabilitation, and forgiveness, which should underpin any civilized society's legal framework.
Furthermore, the death penalty fails to achieve its purported goal of deterrence. Empirical evidence suggests that the threat of capital punishment does not significantly deter individuals from committing heinous crimes. Instead, socioeconomic factors, mental health issues, and systemic inequalities often drive criminal behavior. Investing in preventative measures, such as education, poverty alleviation, and mental health services, would yield more effective and humane solutions to reducing crime rates.
Critics argue that the death penalty provides closure to victims' families and serves as a form of retribution. However, vengeance should not be conflated with justice. Studies have shown that the prolonged legal processes and endless appeals associated with death penalty cases exacerbate the victims' families' trauma, prolonging their suffering rather than offering closure.
In conclusion, the abolition of the death penalty aligns with the principles of justice, compassion, and human rights. By rejecting this antiquated and morally dubious practice, societies can move towards a more enlightened and humane approach to criminal justice—one that prioritizes rehabilitation, reconciliation, and the inherent worth of every individual.
Gardens,
like dreams
and other multiculturing complexities,
process
and sometimes progress into becoming ripe,
then unbecoming dormancy,
advent of and for regardening
redreaming seeds
preparing to further process
Perennial primal roots deepening into
new spring's progressive attachment
network of polycultural dream garden nutrition,
aesthetic nurture,
ethical nature,
animating spirit of Earth's co-arising power life.
Eden's original rising
and subsequent falling Garden
surrounds our GreenTribal Tree
of Ego/Eco-centering Life and WinterDeath.
The Creator's forbidden foreshadow Tree
of Good and Evil
is a secondary,
yet divinely co-inspired, Tree
on our LeftBrain monocultural way
toward reducing Life to Good
and seducing Death through Evil--
Dreaming up and down
Win to Lose evolutionary models
and capitalism's mono-atheistic further investments
in secularizing-commodifying Life
while spiritualizing accommodating Death;
praising win-win peace
while raising lose-lose Falls
re-enacting retributive divine greed,
detached disdaining injustice,
childish, perhaps adolescent at best, pettiness.
Evil, like Death,
is no more original
than the Great Fall and Eternal Winter,
whether we see and hear,
taste and touch
as divine Gardeners
or merely regenesis EarthTribal dreamers
of generic Spring uprisings
and Summer sensory climaxes
for Eden's Tree of cooperatively original EcoLife,
and secondarily hibernating shadows of Ego-Death
Waiting
like an original Falling spring
for our ecofeminist deep green learning RightBrain
Rising Up
like a new spring garden,
like a dreaming root-systemic Tree
of GoodLife win-win cooperative processes
and EvilDeath lose-lose competitive climate pathology
of and for further revolutionary
divinely inspired creations,
re-creations,
evolutions and devolutions
in Eden Gardens,
regenerative and degenerative dreams
co-arising good and evil fruit
absorbed by ecofeminists
and devoured by patriarchs
Together
equally interdependent
in good life
through evil death
EarthTribal loyalty,
interdependent global patriotism,
universal solidarity,
compassion,
love,
energy,
Original humane/divine co-arising attachment
and secondary wealth detachment
and tertiary green health reinvestment
in full garden cooperative enchantments.
Outside was Cold,
But I was Bold,
I wanted to get out,
So I started kick and shout.
Once I did,
I was terrified,
Conveniently,
I started to cry.
One day,
On some weird way,
I wanted to talk
So I learned to walk.
And point fingers.
When I was seven,
I was in heaven,
I just didn't know,
that time is passing fast, not slow.
I just didn't know,
that playing,
is my job.
that world is manipulated by some slob.
Years were passing,
One at the time,
At the moments life was like a candy,
but mostly like a lime.
Studying,
Lying,
Betraying,
Enjoying,
Crying.
Then I met her,
she was sweet,
prettiest girl I had pleasure to meet.
Blonde and Dark,
On my soul, she left a mark.
Soon she became my ex,
but even after that,
life was full of sex.
And again, and again, and again.
And again.
I'm twenty seven now,
Traveling to see...
you won't believe what,
a holy cow.
I was visiting a lots of places,
I saw interesting faces,
All kind of races,
People ask me, what do I do?
I say whatever I need, whenever I want!
They ask me how?
I just take a bow, and I leave,
I'm maybe not the most ethical person on a planet,
But just like a dancer,
I have my unique moves,
Of course, I'm a freelancer.
I remember one situation,
It was like a creation,
of imagination.
But it was real.
I was supposed to deliver a package.
Fortunately I ended up in a wreckage.
When my bus collided in a train,
package got destroyed,
A stain,
left on my skin,
Right before Raid was deployed,
On a recipient of my package,
A guess wreckage,
was a Win.
Few years after,
On the check in with the doctor,
regarding that stain,
a key factor,
a coincidence plain.
a new doctor came,
It was a women,
most beautiful I've seen in my life.
She gave me a son,
She became my wife.
Story should end here,
when things are fine,
but there was a line,
that I crossed,
my life I tossed,
away,
I needed some adrenalin thrill,
So I did not payed my bill,
It came haunting me in my house,
a monster, not a mouse.
My wife left,
I was and I am,
a victim and accessary in theft.
a Crank.
as Enemy of a Bank
I sank.
I lived on a street for a while,
on street there was no difference,
a minute or a mile.
I had all the time I wanted,
but I was still haunted.
Even when everybody forget who I am,
Strangers came and started to slam,
things on me,
until I cracked out,
blacked out,
was gone.
...
...
...
Written: June 09, 2024 For Ink Empress Contest
“a mute tongue is a slave to silence” - Silent One
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let his eyes, his hug, and his grasp
convey what his mouth fears to say
His mother keeps an eye on her kid
In his first winter, he caught a lot of sun —
and watched the dust and air
Getting to the crib by horseback
Silence —
Through the susurrus sound stream
coruscating crimson spills subdue
whilst words whipped wassail
deep within a stymie pirouette
speaking in scarce slave silence
twisting mental sinews —
wrestle within a tight wooden link
In the recesses of a soft tongue
There is silence and no vitality
spewed utterances induce shame
letting souls bleed silently
Then, fear and doubt percolate.
Silence —
Endless streams of ingots land down
umpteen, rejuvenating, and dewy
signs of trust, optimism, and passion
Innuendo arty souls, albeit poetic syntax
hamstringing people with an arrow —
words convey verisimilitude vacuum
life thrives inside the one with insight
his devotion expands spreading apace
peaceful and fulfilling, ethical goals
erase worries, tears, and years.
Silence —
Lost in a celestial room, in a dream
flicker of fleeting rage
frightening fetching to fall in fetters
unexpected cacophony of sounds.
a wail escaped —
at the beckoning of serenity,
words gushed out forcefully
as if through a sluice
a stunning orchestral serve
was launched —
wonderful whirlpool
of seraphic wispy whims.
Silence —
He broke beyond obmutescence bounds
effortlessly eradicating despondency
and invigorating the once-quiet abyss
silence akin to a servant's shroud
have the courage to voice our opinions
exude confidence and vim
disrupt the enchantment
soak up the language —
let your tongue reflect and respond.
an inner whirlwind.
Silence —
Quiddity of nature resides within
the wreath of gloomy academia
such my final words, pulchritude
words with plumose wings
branch stretching —
whittle vine from the brittle barks
alpine brightness, as speckled embers
as pogonip laden its lair
moments before the kiss perches
snow covered it under Winter —
and forgetfulness blurs my dreams.
Silence —
There is an old and wise saying,
Take only what you need
and use everything you take.
We often consider the first part,
or at least make occasional stabs at simplicity,
but the last part is less frequently said
or thought about
as essential to healthy vulnerability.
If we don't use everything we take
and have been given by others,
then we can be sure
we have been given, and perhaps taken,
more than we need.
Taking only what we need
sounds obvious and transparently ethical,
perhaps even aesthetic
in purity of harmonic intent,
yet more mysterious
and richer
and deeper
when we remember
that life itself,
and human life even evolving more so,
is lived in margins,
double-boundaried spaces,
places,
times,
seasons of growth and decay.
Earth's marginal soul
is living soil and water,
surface wind and fire storms
and swells and ebbs.
RNA and DNA regenerate
on and within this thin biosystemic sphere
between atmosphere
and dead bedrock.
Life, as contrasted to not-life,
is a marginally placed process
of learning to take only what Earth offers
and gratefully using everything as cooperative gift.
Life derives from prehistoric photosynthesis
on Earth's evolving and devolving synthesis
and revolving skin.
And our senses, all five,
each take what we need of this synthesis
to LeftBrain adapt
and RightBrain adopt
what our thin margin offers us
of and for a healthy simplicity
yet wealthy diversity
of synthesizing double-boundaried life through death.
Humane life is evolutionary
within Earth's marginal organic boundaries
as we choose to use everything
our RNA and DNA Elders
have gracefully and phylogenically offered us
to swim and walk and fly
within Earth's bountiful health boundaries.
Humanity defines what Earth has given
as marginally sufficient diversity
and is uniquely poised on a constant multicultural edge
to fully delineate,
acclimate,
creolize,
know polypathic gratitude
for this polyphonic boundary grace,
to deeply digest
and warmly decompose
every sensory gift of Earth
we take in
through this vulnerable ride
between natural birth
and spiritual revolution,
Taking only what marginal wealth
we need
and using every double-boundaried healthy day and night
we gratefully receive.
The Caricature
You like to label it as a nefarious empire
brought to power by an unpropitious circumstance
paint a picture of evil and malfeasance
blood soaked canvas is the final image
mass murderers, the greatest genocide
no good they have done, just vile and hate
inspired by the dynamism of the leader
black and white, no shades of gray
just a rancorous order
the caricature, of evil
the caricature, of misery
black or white, no shades of gray
don't ask, just swallow what they say
the caricature, cartoon villain
black and white, no shades of gray
from what I have seen, not as heinous as they say
from elimination of unemployment
to the strength through joy program
workers rights protected by a benevolent union
clean streets and nonexistent crime
pride in Fatherland at an all time high
health and prosperity never before seen
a million strong salute at the Nuremberg rallies
black and white, no shades of gray
tyrannical order
the caricature, of evil
the caricature, of the maleficent
black and white, no shades of gray
don't ask, just swallow what they say
the caricature, what Hollywood portrays
black and white, no shades of gray
You talk of atrocities and monstrous acts
but for once lets exam the facts
ever question if the victor lacked on an ethical standpoint?
ever committed presumptuous acts that are odious?
Examining rudiment facts, they had death camps
where the Soviets murdered 28 million in Gulags
innocents witnessed terror raids night after night
where The Royal Air Force murdered 300,000 in Dresden
so I ask who is really the hero and who is the Villain?
Black and white, no shades of gray
the caricature, portrait of infamy
the caricature, video game mad men,
black and white, no shades of gray
don't ask, swallow what they say
the caricature, almighty evil
black and white, no shades of gray
they say don't question the official history
yet I want to know why they ensconce the truth
why do they fear us finding out what really happened?
It seems we have a dichotomy between fact and fiction
suppression of truth
history written by the victors
villainize the losers
gain their sympathy
money for your industry
spread the big lie
One year and more if people should die still,
Bombs keep raining, missiles shower red rage,
All seem routine to hearts hardening nigh,
World feels sad as an after-thought on stage.
But so had people died of Covid scare,
They’d died alone, though buried in same grave,
Becoming just a number so lonely,
When threshold of pain goes up man gets brave.
All suffer, even continents apart,
Not merchants and brokers of war machine—
Business that hardly has a feeling heart,
What with Shylock’s sharp mind ever so keen.
World markets learn to adjust with the time,
Deficit, surplus seek levels anew,
And people’s life gets attuned to new rhyme,
They only suffer—the suffering few.
Alas, today’s wars can go on and on,
Putin putting up an ever grave face,
His rival, far from a chameleon,
His country getting the maximum mace.
Nations now spend bigger bangs on defence,
Merchants of war sole beneficiary,
Defence a pseudonym for an offence,
A way to boost dormant demand from ranks.
Who the gain and who gets pain, hard to say,
Humanity has lost a few rungs more,
West’s happy to harm, shy enough to bleed,
To US of A one more proxy war.
Like enmity do wars on their own breed,
The motion kept alive oh to save face,
Unwillingly as with its handbrakes on,
As if to prove who ahead is in race.
What if heads roll in this senseless charade?
False prestige must go on a starless stage,
What if the stands are all but deserted,
It matters not, shallow gets when the rage.
The price paid has now turned statistical,
Selling bible to atheists in mirth,
Leaving in limbo issues ethical,
In last throe seems UN, Oh since its birth!
_____________________________________
Happenings | 07.02.2023 | war
Poet’s note: Call it an outright aggression or a lingering war. Forget who’s right and who’s wrong, leave all pros and cons. The conflict goes on even after one excruciating long year. No one is the winner, all world a net loser. It just goes on as if it is a routine, international trade. All else have learned to adjust, not Ukraine which is bleeding heavily, but still no less keen to wound, if not win. Is all this war-mongering of any worth? This narrative in quatrains wonders.
The pain that I feel is caused by the ignorance I see on television and facebook, youtube and twitter, and most importantly the minds and mouths of the multitudes of people that lack the acquirable knowledge that would educate them before speaking.
Our world has misplaced the efficacy of human touch, the importance of human communalism; we have overlooked the significance of human life, and no longer contain the fortitude to express the basic collective dignities all people warrant.
The paths that we take toward progression diverge from the ethical constitutions that were meant to chaperon the actions of man; paths that lead to supremacy rather than a place of equality, where one person’s revolution justifies the undermining of another’s natural liberties, and a place where the flamboyant cries of a few disillusioned are satisfied over the cravings of the crowds that are too preoccupied to bellow.
The sexual nature of our children has surpassed the carnal ways of our parents, and society begs for the young victims to expand their complexities of sensuality. The female body is not a gift, but a means of entertainment; the man is not a sturdy foundation for the family, but instead a source of erotic pleasures. Today it is exceptional to find a person that is faithful, and tomorrow we are all sufferers of divorce.
My God the path we have taken leads to destruction, and we advance ever so closer to the end. The people of our world our depressed and lonely and I fear for the world my children will grow up in. I question whether giving them life was the best thing I could have done for my children.
Amidst the chaos of Earth, I see a photo of an officer assisting a sightless man cross the street, I hear reports of a blessed man returning his earnings to those who need it more, I see a video of a Christian alongside an Atheist as they rebuild the house of a Muslim fire victim, and I see hope.
Hope, that we can one day be rid of the current ways we have chosen to live by; hope that our grandchildren will be blind of color, gender, sensualities, and judge no one. This hope is the hope that will bring us to our knees, and upon those knees shall we find man’s peace.
Form:
You know Mr. & Mrs. reader of ethical and non-essential concerns of dismay. Sometimes
along life's journey, there's a crossroad we all will face. "A crossraad along the way", whether
you choose the wrong way or the wrong road. You're only halfway in your posesstion if you
decide that the road is the only way. "Recesstion over Oppression", being the second part in
my series, this poem is my own opinionated thoughts as I've travel amongst a discontented
journey of crossroads, non-essential along the way. "Recession over Oppression", to every
man, women, boy and girl are we all headed for that ultiment question, "The Faith of a crum-
beling World". Quite sure you've surrounded yourself from the snare's of the world, so you
may not have come across many if any crossroads, like how deep is your faith and is what
you are believing GOD to be! is it in direct allignment of the Higher Power you can not see?
You and me, Well-Well you see I cann't term to grip the ethic's of racial acrimonious of the bl-
ind-eye's that claim to see. You may see differently remember (this is only poetry) so don't
come too the crossroad and still be blindsighted by the oppress of demorcracy.
There's going to War's and rumers of war's, there's going to be people who cann't see the
lord in no skin color but white. Some even say he's black and then there are those that say
he's not the lion of transquility. Recession has brough about high unemployment rate, men
have fallen in love with themselve's moreso now then-then ever before, the bible speaks of
this and a crumbeling world of hater's has no answer, for the men's the womens or the
young boy's nor answer's to our young girl's. I truly believe this beautifull creator establish
it that way so when crossroads and faithful decision's overtake you. He so love the world that
he allow his only begotten Son to come into the World just to die for the Sin's of the world to
defeat the enemy (Death) too reestablish true believer's of trust, not skin-color Faith but ev-
erlasting abundantly Power like that of a million Pearl's. For every Women, Man, Boy or girl.
when facing crossroads; (Remember) "The Faith of a Crumbeling World".