Long Generating Poems
Long Generating Poems. Below are the most popular long Generating by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Generating poems by poem length and keyword.
self proclaimed er calculating polymath
no win tent to kindle,
or spark hay8 full ire rate wrath
juiced whiling away
the early evening hour hath
horror hived this february
twenty second, nah scared to take a bath.
The Process (is a Process All Its Own)
eye up ply applies
to brain storming with zest to whit
barn storming across das plains of google
to pitchfork embers tuff flickr tinder lee
with smart poetic dip pose zit
tool loom hen ate interior darkness
where lurks the monstrous akin to Perdido
otherwise known as perdition,
especially Native American
linkedin as The Buffalo Hunter
pseudonym adopted by Ballard and Sandrine,
The Green Woman, whose Side predicted to win
Pork Pie Hat predicated on FengShui yang and yin
force fields property aligned creates A Special Place
predominantly filled with A Dark Matter
only known (bee you wick), i.e.,The Skylark
and of course Poe's Children, totaling 5 Stories
helpful to down with a chaser
viz - The Little Blue Book Of Rose Stories
Ideally red (red) in The Night Room,
where an unsuspected parvenu
absconded with Lost Boy, Lost Girl
housing Magic Terror, but interestingly
one must ask - Isn't It Romantic?
Via the perspective Looking Back
feigning to be combination of Mr. X, and/or
and Mrs. God innocent looking people
yet, the progenitors of The Hellfire Club
burnt offerings indistinguishable from Blue Rose
fragrance or melancholy Ghosts
resembling trumpeting Floating Dragon
invoking grabbing by The Throat sensation
Where spirits flit to and fro
throughout neighborhood Houses Without Doors
and games without frontiers
this...a millennial Mystery
unlike the generic Ghost Story,
the main anti protagonist and/or
pro antagonist, nonetheless named Koko
who calls The Juniper Tree home
especially eerie Under Venus
provoking Wild Animals
to run berserk at lightspeed
en masse Black Sabbath
bestirs cries and whispers
proto, pseudo psychedelic
quint essence ova thermocouple
holo graphic images hypnotizing vista as Shadowland
explicit formula generating happy interacial Marriages
nah...ha - ah, the joe cuz on ewe
especially, If You Could See Me Now!
the good
The doors to my mind and heart
circle as revolving doors.
A peek inside and you see
happy memories and joyous events,
the loves, and lifelong friendships
A cul-de-sac, though a dead end,
has a circular finish, a merry-go-round
that accumulates happiness as it spins
into a cloud of beauty and nature,
compassion, gods, and faith.
The breathless moments in life,
birth, newness, novelty, exuberance
in being, living, experiencing
laughter, butterflies, and springtime
within my soul, my gratitude.
the bad
The doors to my mind and heart
circle as revolving doors.
A peek inside and you see
the pocks of the years that came
to leave their soured, sadistic truths.
So, like a cul-de-sac you may enter
but the exit is the same as you came.
A Ferris wheel, past the highs and lows
of lost hopes, of murky dreams that end
with more questions than I will answer…
A dead end with death as the prize
for endless dreary days and noxious nights
of sorrow, sadness, misery, and grief
with no hope, no desire, no ambition
faith gone and forgone, abortive.
the ugly
The doors to my mind and heart
circle as revolving doors.
A peek inside and you see
the sear of anger and revenge
spiraling apocalyptically.
The cul-de-sac where giant wind turbines
turn and churn and gnaw at my insides
generating incompressible turbulence
that amasses until it ruptures, spewing
rage and outrage that I will honor…
In and out, inescapable, dead
like my heart, my soul black as coal,
seeking retribution for perceived
wrongs against me, ill-timed and
sanguinary persecution.
Character
What defines us becomes very clear at times,
when the generous spirit works in echoes of frames.
Beside the task of generating month end meets,
are the relations and trust with its deeds.
When prejudice and temptations are wrought,
establishing a particular colour in random thought.
As long the endeavors are not influenced true inward light,
the path before only seem to fall into direction of bright.
Can you with natural intuition very clear discern,
that true knowledge is an act of aware moments to learn.
Be a part of eternal resolve and hold it there,
and make this presence a pleasure to care.
Then those who go in company of vain,
are doomed by insecurities and negotiation on a late train.
Tying to solve the necessity to self-righteous gain,
not seeing the sentiment causing disappointing pain.
The agony to control the moment by influence rights,
trying to subdue the outcome by all might’s.
The act of manipulation as such becomes the endeavor,
in the name of compassionate rendered favor.
Then if the occasions will rise,
there will be no need to any scarifies.
The ‘if’ and all far fetched stories of suffering and distress,
are the cherry on top for the image in tenderness.
Those who take the law of reason as depends,
will have to question, the attraction to strange friends.
The temptation to influence the serene still,
is to challenging the forces of darkness coming to will.
Some of us have the right foundation taken to test,
providing the true peace that exist, for mental rest.
Then every moment with all its caring virtues therein,
is the solution by characters senses combine.
Unmet expectations damage the dormant psyche,
futile promises smother the rays of fading hope,
unkind words tear the lattice of the mangled mind.
My life turns into an urn filled with your ill feeling.
Your senses become the fast spreading wild fire,
uncontrolled, it boils the blood of intrinsic pride,
and as it flares up, it burns my gentle demeanor.
Its ferocity blazes the bonhomie of bonding chords.
The scorching words stoke the fire, the smoke billows up,
clouding the misbalanced crumpled conscience.
The shrapnel of words rise like Sphinx from the toxic ashes,
emotionally perishes the patient face of my restraint.
Your flashing eyes reveal you seethe sensually inside,
generating an inferno of malice in your heart .
The twisted tongue spills out your sentiments so sadistic,
smeared with the vicious venom of your malicious mind.
The scruple of sane sagacity turns into shredding cinder,
erupting out of your fuming volcanic fervent fury,
flows in the spreading smoke of stifling spite,
consuming the remains of reason you lose frenzied.
The scorched petals of my floral essence are dislodged
by the fierce dust storm of passionate perturbation.
The lacerated flower vainly tries to regain the lost elegance,
sees the dreams turn into debris, suffering the silent pain.
The night closes the windows, and
The sky has become a crystal house,
Shining crystal windows,
The Moon
Has sketched through them -
Through the entire alabaster sanctuary.
A single star was sending down
A crystal cable,
And passed its plough across the earth,
Unearthing embraced bodies,
Couples chained
Around the round earth.
Their speech clung everywhere,
Through droplets of words, lost upon the earth -
The same language that stars do not touch.
And the crystal globe spun -
And the coiled bodies with it.
But the sky did not spin,
Nor the majestic stars with it –
They remain anchored,
Each with its sword of light
Plunged into the earth,
Each bound to the immense plough
That furrows our lives.
So stands time, the eternal farmer,
Stretching his seed of crystal through the darkness,
Halving our dreams and years,
With a hand that seems never to rest.
We spectate, spectral, in this dust of life,
Where love and fate share an embrace,
Crying silently while the unyielding cosmos
Continues to sing its cosmic ballad, moist with unseen tears.
Oh, divine plough that overturns kingdoms and hearts alike,
That breaks the midnight soil, turning love into a relic,
Unleashing silent groans beneath the starry canvass -
You build us and unravel us in the rhythm of a spinning sphere.
Our pairings, our bondings, walk upon the giant orbit,
Generating echoes that beat in the crystal silence of space,
And slicing the infinite shadows with every furrow.
Will the star continue to watch us,
When we, at last, dissolve into the earthly evening's darkness?
Its an institutionalized war against a black man yet a fellow black man is glorifying his brother man who cheat and lie to his wife and family, this is bull how are we building the nation with lustful horny old boys.We need disciplined committed men who are not easy destructed to fight with this institutionalized system intended to destroy a black melanated man.
Its an institutionalized war against a black man yet an illiterate fellow black man will call you a scammer for choosing to HodL bitcoin instead of material possesion now they have 25 years on bonds, ballon payment and debt while one is sitting on 25 bitcoin.
Its an institutionalized war against a black man yet an illiterate fellow black man assume 27 cars is a symbol of wealth i told them i rather have 27 bitcoin or 27 hectars of land.
Its an institutionalized war against a black man yet a black man is celebrated for accumulating vanity slaves material possessions when you ask about assets vs liabilities balances sheet or cashflow thats when you realised these people are uninformed, illiterates who worship vanity instead of accummulating cash generating assets then you ask yourself whats the purpose of school if it produce so many vanity slaves.
Its an institutionalized war against a black man yet a fellow black man will never encourage you to start a business let alone support your initiatives but rather call you names for unplugging from a 9-5 employment matrix cause the only thing he ever wish for was to escape the village and experience city life.
These are some of the things that contribute to overall moral decay.The problem with us is that we dont keep it real with each other.We all allow our fellow brother man to indulge in unproductive economical and personal life activities that only keep them in a rat race or destroy thier mental peace.The ripple effect of this ignorance is the current state of the nation.
While out and about
an unexpected over bare ring bout
to defecate arose,
where sphincter asserted clout
and would excrete
despite without doubt...
if closing distance
(to reach rental abode)
beaten out by loosening sphincter muscle
transmitting excretory code
set sights on prowl for outlawed, secluded,
and wooded make shift commode
and essentially for naught negating
toddler toilet training, sans
getting potty trained undone
via my tushy ready to explode
and blast immense solid waste byproduct
(oh...close to the size of Rhode Island)
thus a marathon race against time
found immediate readiness to pull off roadside
to access make shift water closet
generating image firmly in pooping mode
grabbing hold of a tree trunk
(a mini rocky horror picture show, -
this analogy included for no particular reason
other than as a non-sequitur)
and also to convey, how I tried
to allay distractions
while painful contractions flowed
(perhaps approximating woman
on verge of giving birth)
but...no matter, aye could envision,
an ever increasing heavy m*****f****** load
hence approaching Highland Manor Apartments
this chap abandoned
prior simultaneous evacuation plan
starkly aware probability for secluded spot sunk
(nonetheless, thy darting darting
anguish, futile lizard like lookout,
a geico Gekko whose cheeks did blush
even for a measly Georgian bush
quickened nsync with rectal spasms
visual scouting industrialized
where backhoes didst crush
once a time sacred happy hunting grounds
of native Americans, now royally flush
with newly built vinyl city re: urban sprawl a gush,
where cookie cutter houses long since bringing hush
puppies muzzled, yet never the less and mush
a doo doo about nothing) except sprint
ting to the verizon with a void push
immortalizing indigenous tribes ghosts rush
peopling infrastructure affixing
urbanization with lamb basted,
and sigh lance warrior whoosh!
Summer speaks to me by waking me up early
Playing tunes of beautiful song bird melodies
Blowing cool breezes in early mornings
Creating chimes of rustling tree leaves
She speaks to me through marvels of elaborate spider webs
Through various trees’ dazzling green shades
Through fascinating designs on butterfly wings
Through flutters of humming birds and dances of dragonflies
She speaks to me by offering plums, peaches and numerous berries
And various melons, figs and delicious cherries
Growing scrumptious tomatoes in the garden for my luxury
Exhibiting vivacious blooms on rose bushes and crape myrtle trees
She speaks to me shining bright through brilliance of sunlight
Warming the afternoons and dehydrating grasses on hillsides
Crafting radiant sunsets and captivating afterglows of twilight skies
Generating buzzing mosquitoes in stillness of evenings’ dim lights
She speaks to me through an astonishing sight of a skunk mama and her adorable babies
Showing a watchful face of a raccoon sitting in an oak tree
Displaying an occasional slithering of a rattler or a snake native
Birthing numerous insects and active lizard progenies
Through magnificence of marvelous starry nights
Through frog croaks and cricket lullabies
Through precious waters of the lake
Summer speaks to me and I listen with gratitude in my heart……
Growing up on God's impoverishing family farm,
he learned to hide his work
in tissues of unearthly privacy.
Regenerating in Earth's richly resonant nutrition,
she recovered her playful avocations
in ecosystemic response
to global over-grasping issues
of under-conscious
her/his-storied
positive domesticity
Over-privatized
so powers under-privileged;
personalized
so shy of compelling
retelling publicity
Earth camouflaged
democratically healthy ecopolitics,
co-empowering
co-operating
co-generating
co-laterally co-investing
co-systemic
ego/eco-analogical
co-passion.
Growing out on Earth's extending family farm,
he learned to share his playful work
with issues of unEarthly
inhumane
left-hemispheric primacy.
A careful constructed system
that’s designed to lead to failure
few escapes, leaving the rest
to be taken advantage of
those who escape
reaches a certain level
then prey on the weak
by selling hopes and dreams,
hope and dreams
that rarely come true.
The game is being sold as
the truth remains concealed
while those continue to profit
off the ignorance and the pain
emotions get exploited,
generating energy curren-cy
that keeps the system employed
as it thrives on the sufferer.
Extortion and manipulation
hijacks the mind, turning
you into willing participants
of your own torment,
creating a tyrannical force
that’s impossible to beat.
Free-will in disguise is a
predetermined force
coering you to endure in
a careful constructed system,
a system that’s designed
to maximize human suffering.