Long Existentialism Poems
Long Existentialism Poems. Below are the most popular long Existentialism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Existentialism poems by poem length and keyword.
Besotted winged pollinators
roistering barrage drowned
amidst general insectivorous cacophony
indistinct auditory signals communicated
intermingled with bounteous wafting fragrance
midwifed edenic floral pullulation
sensate admixture viz colored spectrum
amidst unrehearsed extemporaneous
orchestral suite bedded lambs
amorous ewe man like bleating songs
nature all aflutter actively socially vociferating
profuse living color rainbow pastiche
teeming soundgarden smorgasbord
cornucopia ignites mordent Utopian aural swath
visual vistas stilling spellbinding
spilling riotous carpeted web
uniting doubting Thomas's existentialism
despite unanswered queries
asper diverse modalities each specie evolved
to survive despite countervailing destructive forces
generating plethora pandemonium ironically
promulgating harmonic exemplary convergence
Highland Manor concourse aflame with new life
parented by instinctive imprimatur anonymous patents
now genetic mapping usurped with untold outcome
analysis bred crispr discovery Earthlings fiddling
glorifies honied indemnity Judeo-Christian kudos
leaves of grass kudzo resistance mutation immunizes
biosphere once prolific differentiation shrinks
becoming monocultural setting virtual stage
catastrophe plus food shortage would become
global debacle predicated, sans virulent
viral and/or bacterial strain renting asunder
tripwire unspooling delicate webbed whirl
already widely compromised more so
since Rachel Carson wrote Silent Spring
*****sapiens population explosion
pits profligate predilections planet Earth in extremis
dire crisis cavalierly dismissed humans
in hot pursuit racking up superfluous wealth
dirty deeds done dirt cheap - tricking
mother nature, who will unwittingly
spring scrumptious feeding off scrimmage
forcing capitulation or total extinction
meanwhile fostering long tall floral inflorescence
a composite having sessile flowers
apiary abuzz, cuz queen bee
can no longer wax bereft of royal jelly.
TRANSLATIONAL
assertion
overly indebted
&
touched
with humour
&nuanced
in existentialism
expression
chance
enthusiasm
stoked
in
controverseet
& hilarious
parodies
of
the
upside-down
&
topsy-turvy
a cliched
wildness
disembodied
fragility
vulnerable
narrow& closed
so suddenly so
learned
naive
immaturity
in
perspective
romantic
&sublime
yet
a
profoundly
ambivalent
reality
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
Absurdity, chaos,
strife:
The poet chooses
virtuous reality.
Sisyphus, a
titanic wave of metamorphosis, waiting, salted nausea:
The thinker roughed by sand
a solitary tree in a barren desert
defies absurdity
by seeking meaning in the absurd.
Authenticity,
vision, conformity, religion:
The rebel a roaring
wildfire igniting change like:
authenticity,
vision, and non-conformity
forging their own path.
Project,
reflect, individuality:
The human river
tasting the minerals of experience
expresses identity
and discovers themselves.
Leap,
Übermensch,
ethics,
logotherapy:
The agent
acts with freedom and responsibility
finding purpose.
Meaning,
joy, void, hope:
The sweet-smelling optimist a sunflower
fills emptiness with hope
seeking light in the darkness.
Truth,
illusion, reality, fiction:
The rationalist
discerns the real and the imagined.
Contradiction,
logic, emotion:
The harmonist
strives for balancing
the rational and emotional.
Freedom,
authenticity, manipulation, conformity:
The individualist
resists pressure and influence.
Awareness,
paradox, courage, hope:
The existentialist
embraces the absurd and transcends.
Leak,
speak,
strike,
kneel:
The activist challenges-
The status quo and injustice.
Tirelessly fights for justice!
Death,
suicide, violence, genocide:
The mortal
faces limit and horror with courage.
Despair,
nightmare:
The lover
shares and cares with love.
Existence
precedes essence?
Or essence
precedes existence?
The question
haunts forever.
The Stoic
Observes, unmoved yet aware:
Virtue alone suffices
whether essence or existence;
In reason and nature
we find our constant companion.
It's not that luxurious solitude you can choose against a background of sea or desert, a mythological desolation like in Antonioni's film, with that subtle taste of beautiful hopelessness in the subliminal search for identity that ends with a shotgun.
That's not the case in Cainland.
It's the loneliness of exile into the reduced self, into the emptiness of cutting all ties, and your so-called identity is whatever progressive humanity wants to see, but it's always not you. .
You have to deal with another kind of existentialism, just breathe, and while you're alive, carry on if you can, or if you can't, no one will notice, including yourself.
No press screening, this movie was financed with dirty money stained with oily fingerprints.
The working title was Cursed for the Place of Birth, but in the final version it was changed to Exiled - a less dramatic, more conventional title.
The rare audience watched apathetically in silence, distracted from time to time by the flickering of their cell phones they couldn't resist reacting.
One drunk laughed at the end.
Greenish black silhouettes of trees
sans the complacency
mystique in their conversation,
a stream of uneven triangular arcs
in commune with the lilac-grey
puffs of floating vapor
coalescing in rebellion,
scent of wild delicate roses,
a lover's temptation,
cascades of prismatic water
falling like emotions hard
then, mingling plan-gently
in the river of thoughts,
a lavish pristine green meadow
inventive in its own league,
celestial beads of a night gown
defying the theory of
existentialism,
then why stand petrified
by the fire lit by yourself?
a self fluorish of ambiguities
and repine,
if discern the other side of
darkness
you lay ablaze in ethereal
incandescene,
the hieroglyphs of creator's rescue...
"Despair is generally defined as a loss of hope. In existentialism, it is more specifically a loss of hope in reaction to a breakdown in one or more of the defining qualities of one's self or identity." Søren Kierkegaard
St. Kilda is a World Heritage Site.
Birds persevere;
rock houses
empty
now.
Last
count topped
one million
resident birds.
Sheer numbers endanger other species.
Humans have not lived on St. Kilda for
nine long decades.
mind-boggling
man's choice -
move
Man
fought the
elements
two thousand years.
Wind, water, weather and wildlife won out.
April 27, 2023
Sponsor Constance La France
Contest Name Writing Challenge - Words with 'X' -
St. Kilda is a remote archipelago off the coast of Scotland.
The remaining 36 residents chose finally to leave
an environment which had become unsustainable. Imagine
their despair in leaving - displaced, adjusting to a new existence.
It's not footprints that we should be talking about -
They’re personal – my footprints, bold and giving,
Which shape me, make me me - who I am:
They're not Jesus’s, the king of living.
Your personal history partly determines your life,
Helps you, or makes you want to overcome,
Makes you want to become who you want to be,
Because I'm more than just my history’s sum.
The Jesus that we know is a universality:
Communal, all-knowing and immortal;
But that I evolved and am part of humankind,
Gives me purpose and a rather large portal.
Individual responsibility makes the criminal weep:
His actions are only his, there's no leeway;
It gives the success story her satisfied smile,
At past determination in her disbelieving day.
Existentialism posits we each exist without divinity,
As self-sufficient entities with meaning as your call;
Supernature strokes the ego, fondles the pride,
So just believe in atheism and be relational to all.
In Mary Stevenson’s Footprints poem,
Jesus carries you, with his footprints in yours;
But I think my role-models, physios and teachers,
Along with myself, carried me in theirs!
Ancient philosophies insist on Immortality,
Theologies hold of its unavoidability;
As many old religions, so thought Christianity:
That Immortality is God's gift to humanity.
Reincarnation - charmingly the Indology holds,
Life, death, and rebirth cycle of Samsara bold unfolds;
How happy I am to be born as a lotus or rose,
Yet, lo, at the thought of their tentativeness, I repose.
Existentialism has evoked my thoughts rather deeply,
The nullity and barrenness of the birth-death chiefly;
If so why, in this world, do I need to live this life hard?
When I know the cruel death char and make everything marred?
I get dreams, sometimes, I am dead and solemnly buried,
Angels carry me; to Abraham's lap I am hurried;
At other times I am like chicken or mutton roasted,
Within endless ovens of deepest hell till exhausted.
I see my coffin in the womb of the earth just breaking,
Some seed, within me hiding, getting fervently cracking;
Me growing into plants unknown, springing and blossoming,
Pollinating, growing, spreading out, and keep creating...
In the end, lo, I do not know anything about it.
Yet, again, if I might try in my own words to put it:
It's like asking the taste of honey to a newborn kid,
How can it be said before, at least once, not tasting it?
Yet, do not wait, dear people, to taste immortality!
It's lying here! In everything! Taste it sumptuously!
Love! Go on loving! Get loved! Hated! Go limitlessly!
Gain whatever you want to gain out of this life! Fully!
Edited on 9 September 2021
For ''I'' Contest New or Old Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by: Constance La France
The street exhales in measured, patient light,
Where footsteps keep a cadence soft and slow,
An I, a witness to the day, walk on—
While somewhere in my mind, a name begins to grow.
A stone appears where none was set before,
Its surface pale with weather, time, and loss;
No hands in sight, yet carved with patient care—
A name, a date, and silence etched across.
It feels so close, yet too far to reach,
As if the thought itself has learned to wait;
A whispered echo at the edge of speech,
Where life and stillness almost hesitate.
A though intrudes, unbidden, keen, and still,
It settles where the quiet held its form;
Not summoned by intent, yet marks the will,
A distant tremor in an unseen storm.
I measure life against what time unthreads,
Each breath a brief inscription on the air;
The body writes what memory still treads,
And fades into the grammar of the bare.
And still I walk, the cadence kept and known,
The sky unchanged, though meanings rearrange;
What lingers is not lost, but overgrown,
A quiet thought, persistent, yet estranged.
The first Magna Carta initiated and asserted,
The people-centred philosophy which was budding:
‘Cos if the law is not a moral prescription of human rights,
Then it's just an ego-trip for a any monarchy’s plights.
After life’s origin with the big-bang,
Came matter, plants and animals;
And then apes preceded neanderthals,
When *****neanderthalensis were a gang.
*****sapiens then hit the scene,
Began to practice agriculture in 10000 BC,
And after that a process of civilisation ignited,
The law and order in the land in which we all can be.
And of course with law and order,
Comes creativity, art and industry;
An innate ability to express ourselves,
For greater relativity.
But the original political system,
Just consisted of a king with a crown,
Who was worshipped and adored:
Until his problem was this renown.
The people were disgruntled,
So rebelled against King John,
Who signed the Magna Carta,
Which said that he too was the law under.
So the law then began to pertain to moral values,
And humanism and atheism were for the first time aired,
Because John’s sins were no longer judged by God,
After his life and death, but by people who cared.
Philosophy has burgeoned from that point on,
From Albert the Great’s theory of justice and natural law,
To Descarte’s Heliocentrism and dualistic rationalism,
Which developed into individualism and existentialism.
Ideology matters to the evolutionary process of law,
As the law is either against people, or for them;
And before 1215 it never was the people’s abstract security,
But was rather their daily unhappiness and misery.
Humanity is so much better off for the Magna Carta,
Ourselves, America, Australia and all the world,
‘Cos each individual has human rights, worth and dignity,
As it wrought a change of diplomacy and philosophy.