Long Formalities Poems
Long Formalities Poems. Below are the most popular long Formalities by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Formalities poems by poem length and keyword.
Convoluted Reflections of Possibility
Artistotle reflecting on the nature of man
Convoluted reflections of possibility that can
Manifest into existence at the clapping of a hand
And contest the resistance of what it means to take a stand
For what you believe in because it’s worth more than words
As the form that reprieve brings can assume the absurd
As the worn out grieving cries out to be heard
The storm that sees things forms a lesson to be learned
Execution of task based focus for productivity
Revolution for the last placed locusts of ingenuity
Elocution of the past raced moments of equanimity
A solution for problems faced by components of volatility
A considered position on all the formalities
While omitted precision consumes the tonalities
And committed decisions presume the congeniality
As embittered revisions exhume the commonality
Respected renditions of insight that provide profound conclusions
Rejected derisions of dark light that contrive around confusion
Inspected omissions of stark fright that arrive at sharp protrusions
Reflected precisions of delight that that strive to negate the art of delusions
The might of one man propelled by absolute conviction
The sight of a hand compelled in resolute distinction
The bright command environmentally repelled into a mass extinction
The light reprimand contemporarily expelled by a mute political collision
The lines of regret upon a forlorn face crying
The times we forget to warn the race that is lying
The crimes beget of the forms of grace that are akin to testifying
The sublime correct the norms in their place while the innocent are dying
The moon?
A king that needn’t tout his might,
just lounges up there, cool as a cucumber,
as stars tumble like glitter from some cosmic party,
just enough shimmer to keep us wondering:
who’s really in charge - us or them?
The sun elbows its way in,
boisterous and brilliantly loud,
flinging gold across the sky like confetti,
yelling, “Let’s go! Daylight’s wasting!”
It doesn’t ask for permission to set your soul on fire,
and if you’re not burning by now, that’s on you.
The ocean doesn’t bother with formalities.
It rolls in, pushes its weight around,
tosses your worries out to sea with a lazy,
“Nah, you’re done with those.”
There’s no negotiation, just the quiet peace
of letting go when you didn’t even know you needed to.
And the forest?
Old as the first breath,
it doesn’t rush, doesn’t care for clocks.
It whispers, “Stay still long enough, and maybe
you’ll remember how to grow.”
Roots so deep they don’t care if you notice—
because they know life is in the waiting,
and you’re a part of it whether you realise or not.
I think I better leave right now
Before I say something stupid
Like only a boy in love would
And if this is our parting shot
Let it not be lost in sentimentality
I am sure you agree
We can drop the formalities
We know each other far to well
To pretend
We do not know each other's foibles
And pressure point's
Otherwise we could overcome
This impasse we fall before
All the while knowing
Sooner or later we will ramp up the rhetoric of abuse
Until 1 of us gives in
And neither of us can remember
Why on earth we shared a bed together
Maybe I loved you to much
To try and patch things up
Here we are in the village of Morristown, New Jersey.
It is September the sixth in the year of our Lord, 1833.
French immigrant Antoine LeBlanc went on a killing spree.
He took the lives of two rather prominent citizenry.
Antoine murdered Mr. and Mrs. Sayre, and their servant Phoebe.
The citizens of the town considered the deed so dastardly.
It only took twenty minutes for the decision of the jury.
With overwhelming evidence, the defendant was found guilty.
LeBlanc was afforded all the formalities of a fair hearing.
Judge Gabriel Ford handed down the sentence of death by hanging.
A crowd of about ten thousand are gathered in the public square.
Witnesses have come to see the execution from everywhere.
A rope around LeBlanc’s neck will propel him into the air.
Until he is dead, Antoine will be hanging in despair.
“That’s not enough”, cried some of the witnesses in their fears.
They wanted LeBlanc’s skin tanned and made into souvenirs.
Wallets, purses, lampshades, and book jackets were fashioned from his hide.
That is a gruesome fate that certainly cannot be denied.
Here is something else that I have to say:
Some of those relics of the infamous criminal still survive today.
I thank both wikipedia.org online encyclopedia and the website of Weird N.J. for information I obtained to write this poem.
I think it was Aristotle who said reality= mass +stuff
One of my favorite lines from one of brightest of anytime
See I believe there are all these little formalities in realities
That makes life all the more fulfilling even for thos who have it rough
I never think things through instead I think through it
I don't take every branch climbing the tree but reevaluate my choices from the top
I'm not to much concerned with the questions most pose about life if its real conversation tho I don't want it to stop
But I just have one question
where are we what nothing became a void
capable of instantaneous creation and constant expansion
This can happen in 2 places the brain nature made or the computer store bought
Here is some access to the synapsis of this particular
Human and this is his opinion only but theory is really where the facts is
If heat rises why is it cold on mountain top
If all other things considered how is there terminal velocity
How can we track this
How can they say green house effect is all natural
And people didn't cause global warming
We caused that big ******** over Alaska
Which allowed gasses in that then were trapped in by ozone
These are questions I will always ask you.
Why is there motion in stillness
Why are their dry spots in the rain
Why are the evil allowed an easy life
And the saints get nothing but pain
Did you know they found molecules that seen to live in small numbers
But gather in many like families
They are present in all objects animate and inanimate
To this end everything has a soul your soul feels best ifyou don't grind the clutch its ceramic
How is it q rain cloud 1 square Mile weighs 10 million lbs
that there are babies qnd animals should just float away
But they don't because the formalities and the facts
I really don't know if I can explain it better or what to say
What if you made it all the way through life never of had to burden
Those close to you based both on choices you did and did not make
This is the reality your in its not always the best so many joujourneys to take
So what to do next just a few minutes live for God sake
I try to crack a joke to tame a tense situation,
As a way of blowing up the slow building steam.
With a joke, I see all resentments flitting away,
And watch, how a happy mood begins to stream.
Stiff formalities often leave me choking
In a very serious company, I feel at a loss
I'm so much at ease in a hilarious company,
Even a harsh situation turns cheery in humour’s gloss
By being funny, you can earn much camaraderie
It makes you coveted, reducing all possible rift
Humour saves you from the drabness of everyday life
The ability to laugh at oneself is indeed a rare gift.
‘Laughter, the best medicine’ is a time old saying
With so much power to heal, let us laugh to chill
See, how it lightens anger’s heavy load
Making us healthier, reducing our hospital bill.
All prefer a clownish Falstaff to a rigid crowned king
Who with humour's punch blunts the sharp blades of reality
He escorts us cheerfully to a world of laughter
And leads us to the merry realms of geniality.
Chortle and chuckle to remove all your aches
Grin and giggle until your belly breaks
Laugh out loud with mouth wide till it makes you cry,
Roll on the floor and laugh with spirits raised high.
weddian
By Mon Amoru Cheri
---------------------------
one said he wanted or needed a new story to tell.
So when he found out that a man had proposed
marrage to a beautifu and attractive woman: he
gathered up his gold nuggets and cashed them in.
"Aint no body marrying up round year ceptin me",
he told one of his freinds. I is more attractive
with this money and all.
"She is in the way of understanding now and she
knows this money is the best
money for her!" You aint even meet her yet and you is ah talkin
marrgage."His mind state is in need of
repairin cause I is tsking the bride to be as
someone for me, my wife!' T
They took the bag of gold where they thought the couple would be askin folk round town if they knew of ah gal fixin to marry" Well word spread among the folk, and they started laughing
when they heard the doings of these fellas. A group of elder came up with a plan. They got two folk to act like they were getting married
and say they were the folk
the fellas where a talkin bout.
We sunday after servicxes folk went into town. Thats where these fellas would be tryna find the couple who was ah-fixin to get hitched.
Well the actress and the actor saw them out there
and went out their to do there thing. The woman told the guy carrying the bag
she was half of the couple he was looking for.
Well he said Miss pretty person
I is a fixing to marry you since you is faincce' I got the money right here
let's say we is ah marrying. He poured the money out and it had seven gold nuggets in the bag.
The woman smiled and told the guy if you are forreal I'm be your wife, thats alottaa money, it's more than what these people were offering me to
do this gig! Historically, a "wed" was a pledge or a deposit given as a guarantee of an agreement. We gonna marrage up with out the modern formalities. Just the way the anceints wanted!"
I used to wanna be a cowboy who rides off into the sunset
With her lovin’ eyes on me a sight so hard to forget
Sometimes I’d be an astronaut goin’ where no one’s gone before
Or a doctor saving lives no need to say anymore
I’d rescue damsels from burning three story balconies
Who’d kiss me all over without any formalities
I’d be a lawman or a brave fighter of all kinds of fires
And girls would love me up forever inspired
Movie or rock star yeah this boy could be it all
I can surely see the writin’ up there on that wall
It’s all as it was meant to be
I can be a hero so easily
Just take myself to a place and time
Where everything would be just fine
Where everything would be just fine
As time goes by it’s harder to conjure up all the thunder
Or lose myself in thought and all that sheer wonder
Never wantin’ to think or be wishin’ any of it away
Then, BANG, I see that writin’ it down just may be the way
Movie or rock star yeah this boy could be it all
I can surely see the writin’ up there on that wall
It’s all as it was meant to be
I can be a hero so easily
Just take myself to a place and time
Where everything would be just fine
Movie or rock star yeah this boy could be it all
I can surely see the writin’ up there on that wall
It’s all as it was meant to be
I can be a hero so easily
Just take myself to a place and time
Where everything would be just fine
Where everything would be just fine
Just fine…..
Vane glorious and absolutistic,
though I defiantly,
cavalierly, and blithely attest
Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy
mine acidic breast
houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic,
barbaric, and bubonic
cannibalistic demons within thy
safely guarded Pandora chest
atomic cesium clock
timed to trigger avast
burst of anxiety, frenzy, and
(What me worry
Alfred E. Neuman) blast
ting mental quietude at most
inappropriate, inconvenient,
inopportune, out classed
adrenaline rush, nausea,
palpitating heart, vertigo
besieging, corrupting,
endeavoring fractured arrant
cleft daemonic gripping
hellishly psychic chant
rendering unto sieze hoar,
a choking vise grip extant
yule hiss sieze indomitable
banshee fully controlling grant
diabolic, dogmatic, and dynamic,
anguished corporeal ache
easily, egregiously, and emblematically,
exemplified historically
graphic fatalistic, and ecstatic coup,
(koo), when I caused furious frantic flight,
and/or fight betake
king angst causing just desserts
for Marie Antoinette,
who got her humble pie cake,
thence dispensing with formalities,
where a joshing drake
(named Gill O. Teen)
also known (solely known
to mine selfish source error ways)
alias i.e. as; the Lewis (loose)
lunatic, heady harvester,
and decapitation Deacon trumpeting,
trouncing, and triumphing tranquility
for fifty three Tuesdays,
thence sea king punishing psychotic
pre pound payment
basking in glory (re: gory us)
amidship crashing quays
music to mine ears hearing plaintive neighs
high pitched straining
vocal chord hamstrung keys
regaling oceanographic
lambent hagiographic essays
and keeping at bathos bays.
"Having grown up in an idyllic village, I consider myself as blessed. I was rid of all rigid formalities of urban living. Enjoyed the artless innocence of countryfolks, breathed fresh air, occasionally pranced through wilderness, talking to wildflowers and butterflies" - By Poet
There’s nothing like the lovely rustic charm,
Sent out by far flung lush green country farm.
Where trees in glee sweep heaven with their crown,
And songbirds, the surrounding valley drown.
There the air, fresh and sweet like forest glade,
And Heaven blesses rich, the country wide.
Where the rural folk in their toil and pride,
With their artless and modest life reside.
To such idyllic bliss, I long to go,
Where life like a silent river shall flow.