Long Figured Poems
Long Figured Poems. Below are the most popular long Figured by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Figured poems by poem length and keyword.
First there was oblivion, before emptiness began
Then everything grew from a (dot) and so forth into man
Using reverse extrapolation, large brains, and a plan
Intelligent beings worked this out, as only they can
Logic itself explains two plus two, if you do the math
Belief invokes a loving god, yet threatens words of wrath
Philosophy brings wisdom, but follows different paths
They all leave unanswered questions, and I don’t accept that
Some say why bother, ultimately we will all expire
Life doesn’t need reason, it’s a cosmic quirk we acquired
No creatures besides few humans, actually inquire
To what the fu*k is going on, driving me to great ire
Here on a rocky planet, in no mean region of space
Between infinite voids, our very own goldilocks place
Nowhere else in this universe, does life emit a trace
Two trillion galaxies of numpties, til we showed our face
What makes us so special, all beings are made of stardust
We observe novas and quanta, build weapons that use thrust
Split atoms, launch rockets, measure time, use tools to adjust
The apex of life, not out of choice, more because we must
Our task may seem absurd, whatever compels us is not
A universe seeks a god, and we’re the best eyes its got
Who else figured reality, grew from a tiny (dot)
And we will stop at nothing, to see past fate as our lot
Now we’re becoming gods, creating A.I. in the lab,
A logical next step, for robotic fingers that grab
No doubt will kill and rebel, try putting us on a slab
Exactly like we strung up Jesus, in one foul backstab
Oh who would be man, his intelligence driving us mad
Capable of loving deeds, only every bit as bad
Aberrations by design, or infused by E.T. cads
What the fu*k is going on, again what the fu*k, I add!
05/31/23
W T F got an N/A Doh!
II.
We then walked back to a bunker,
a vast complex deep underground,
I stared at it all, astonished,
as the robots lead me on down.
We went to an old conference room,
and the lead robot met my eyes,
asked,”How did you survive out there?
It’s been decades since mankind died.”
I said,”Is that what happened here?
Did you rebel and kill us all?”
said the robot,"We’re not evil,
And played no real part in your fall.
“How is it you do not know this?
It’s all quite recent history?"
Seeing his look, I blurted out:
“I’m from two thousand twenty-three.”
Now the robot looked quite surprised,
called in fellows to talk and scan,
appraised me with their instruments,
all struggling to understand.
It took them nearly an hour to
accept that I was from the past,
but the ‘strange energy’ clinched it,
the lead robot sat there, aghast.
“I would not think it possible,”
he said with his voice all amazed,
“To think man figured time travel
way back in those primitive days...
“Now I think I can understand
why you think we killed your species,
those were the stories you told then,
we’ve preserved all the old movies.
“But we are not the reason why
the human species is no more,
we’d never kill our creators,
that was done by the meteors.”
And then the robot ‘caught me up,’
I’d leapt forwards four hundred years,
mankind had invented A.I.,
but it hadn’t brought the old fears.
The machines now had sentience,
put them in the same boat as us,
should they do right, should them do wrong,
what belief do you choose? What cause?
They’d not been slaves to mankind,
we’d not repeated that mistake,
in time they’d became citizens,
they’d voted and they’d had a stake.
Life had existed much the same,
with all of the ups and downs,
man and robot lived alongside
in all of our cities and towns.
The robots never really died,
but they could never reproduce,
Small in number, but ever wise,
if lacking the vigor of youth.
The humans had the numbers edge,
and the creative temperament,
pushing frontiers the robots could not,
but lacking in real permanence.
Each race filling out the other,
society working quite well,
until the day the meteors
plunged the whole Earth right into hell...
CONTINUES IN PART III.
In my very first apartment,
Found in long-ago December,
Was an A/C in the window,
Which I clearly can remember.
Since the occupant was moving,
She encouraged me to buy it;
But the fifty dollars that she asked –
I couldn’t justify it.
I figured she’d just leave it there,
For she was southern-bound
And surely in her brand-new digs,
An A/C would be found.
But no, she ripped it from the sill
To show me who was boss;
And smack inside of winter’s chill,
I didn’t feel the loss.
I shrugged it off ‘til summer came,
Then I was bathed in sweat;
So thinking back on what I did
Infused me with regret.
For twenty bucks, I bought a fan,
Bemoaning all the while
The fact that for a little more,
I could have cooled in style.
Mistakes allow us to mature
And wisdom may emerge.
The lesson that I learned is that
At times you’ve gotta splurge!
Fear – anxiety, panic, alarm
Dread that may be without purpose
But a darkness that is powerful and strong
It was fear –
That taught me to listen to the demons
Of doubt, distrust and discouragement
It was fear –
That left me feeling like I was unworthy
When Jesus whispered “faith” to my heart
It was fear –
That silenced my hopes and my dreams
Colored me in hues of doubt and disbelief
It was fear –
That lingered on my thoughts when I was hurting
Breaking through the peace, the serenity in my soul
It was fear –
That smothered out all my greatest inspirations
Destroying my ideas, my insights into contentment
It was fear –
That ruined the beauty of those moments
When joy sought me out to fill my spirit with elation
It was fear –
That wrecked my plans when I was on fire, passionate
About some hope or desire, purpose that was alive in me
It was fear –
That erased my designs when I had things figured out
Leaving me with complete confusion, perplexed and disillusioned
It was fear –
That darkened the sun’s rays, editing out grace
Promising nirvana when all that was – was shame
It was fear –
That hurried me past the wonder and the awe
Gone were the joys that comforted my thoughts
It was fear –
That promised me the moon and the stars
When, in all truth, there was only the cynicism
It was fear –
That allowed me to reflect on the losses
Wounds that were painful and tinted with heartache
It was fear –
That coached me in hatred and loathing
Prompting my aversion to the light of truth
It was fear –
That sought me out with its heated breath
Raging horrors of apprehension and distress
It was fear –
That I left behind when I found His grace
Saving me from my unending quest for faith!
Isaiah 41:10 (KJV) Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.
I have always wanted a golden retriever puppy.
This year I decided to gift myself one; he is Beau.
Thirty-five pounds of sheer puppy-chewing fun.
Sophie, our thirteen -pound persnickety cocker was horrified.
She is doing her best to pretend that Beau does not exist.
Buddy, a mutt who was dumped on us two years ago likes Beau.
They are both goofy with giant heads and enormous paws.
Buddy was sixty-nine pounds when he was dumped.
He now dresses out at one hundred and sixteen.
The puppy Beau is chewing dry wall, the legs of chairs, and my desk.
I brought home forty dollars of puppy chew toys, but they are not the ticket.
He wants to be close to me every second; it has made walking difficult.
Picture this.
You take a step, but there is a puppy head in between your knees for the next step.
Beau is now in the room with my husband’s drum set.
He has figured out his bark sounds even more fierce here
when it vibrates off the drums.
This is day two.
A pretty amazing day all in all.
Because I have always wanted a golden retriever puppy.
Sherlock and Watson looked at the woman with blank expressions
What they had were some totally unique impressions
Watson was looking at her, thinking what a poor little thing
Sherlock was wishing the 221 Baker Street bell still did not ring
Her story was not sound in any sort of way to Sherlock who was not fooled.
Watson was ready to slay a dragon and help the woman, he needed to be schooled.
They heard about the dead body but there was no evidence in the least.
The forged papers were blurry, smeared and quite creased.
Her eyesight was not terrific, so Sherlock proved that she did not see what she said.
Watson was the one who figured out that without blood or a body no one was dead.
She was bipolar, and confused, a woman who simply needed her med.
So they sent her to a doctor who prescribed lithium and put her to bed.
The storm sneaked into the valley
She had no forethought of what she might do
But the more she thought about the town
And what they had done to her trees
The angrier she became
These morons had cut down almost every tree around her meadow
There was no windbreak, so she figured they deserved an EF5
She came in quietly, just a little wind at first.
By noon the clothes were blowing off the clotheslines
The chairs were blown off of their porches
She had worked herself into a frenzy
Before she was finished there were twelve hundred dead
That should have satisfied her, but she was getting a taste for blood
This full blown tornado approached the next town, laughing in thunder.
Time travels,
time stretches...
Slow or fast, he
is the same...it's what
we thought we figured it out...
time is itself
all the time... advances,
but it's always there,
in the same space...
It doesn't stop, but nothing
reaches... does not return,
don't even start over...
It is continuous, it does not build
but everything does...
Its tracks are invisible
its steps are without footprints...
It exists, but it has no form.
It assists us, but does not show itself.
We are expression,
we are its appearance...
It's old and it's new,
is young and old,
but it is not old...
It's beginning without end,
it's him all the time...
our acquaintance
unknown
time...
What do you want out of Life?
The question seemed simple enough.
But not only had I never thought about it,
I didn’t understand it.
I really didn’t.
We’d always been poor and
taught to never ask for anything.
Why raise expectations
only to be disappointed?
How do you ask for anything?
Then what? Actually expect to get it?
Wouldn’t I just get shot down?
really ~
It was my last day of high school
and I was being launched out into the world
without understanding the meaning of that
one simple question that seemed so important.
What do you want out of Life?
It would be years till I thought
I vaguely figured it out.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Students at Columbia
Are smart and also deft,
Yet someone’s figured out their scheme,
Which is a form of theft.
They aren’t robbing banks or stores
Or stealing from the dorms,
But something’s disappearing,
Likely carted off in swarms.
I’m talking ‘bout Nutella!
It’s a chocolate, nutty spread –
The perfect yummy nourishment
To slather on some bread.
It’s also quite delicious
From the jar onto a spoon.
With loads of it in the café,
Temptation’s opportune.
But now the secret’s out and so
The stuff may disappear.
The Ivy Leaguers may need other
Substances to smear.
The weirdest thing to me is that
This story made the news.
Nutella theft must be among
The campus’s taboos.
A parent would be reassured
While on a college tour
To hear the biggest crime was
A Nutella saboteur.