Long Generative Poems
Long Generative Poems. Below are the most popular long Generative by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Generative poems by poem length and keyword.
Book cause I spend an inordinate amount of time reading...
out loud.
As a hypothetical argument
yours truly doth not aim
to be unfortunate recipient
of misguided, misjudged, and mislaid blame,
nevertheless I make dubious claim
and baldly recede (ha – hair ye, here ye)
from heady assertion
to make bold statement
such that literacy supersedes numeracy,
between said measurable
ambiguous, exiguous, and irriguous
confusing, perplexing, puzzling pillars
of cognitive, demonstrative, emotive,
facilitative, generative... intelligence,
hence not consonant
far from the madding crowd,
until the return of the native
and perchance ludicrous
to some above average dame,
who might be prone to exclaim
contrariwise, and squarely frame
mathematics more powerfully
(id est - greater than)
basically versus stringing words together
yielding cogent, decent,
effulgent, fluent... result
(that may not add up to a hill of beans)
crafting supreme unequaled poem
predicated upon cockamamie scribe,
(one whose unexcusable
laughable puerile mien
modestly trumpeting his outstanding talent,
hence he expects and deserves
posthumous lettered fame),
née, he already
appropriated, leveraged, wielded
volumes of his speculated worthless material
synchronized to be broadcast
immediately upon his demise
(after the grim reaper
steals dem lovely bones
to avoid self embarrassment)
avast treasure trove awaiting
distribution across webbed wide world
(including all manner
of social media platforms)
after discover re:
visa vis artificial intelligence
courtesy agency of smart machine
to custom make similar
facsimile thereof brilliant literature
where good things come to life
to emulate and evoke
mental landscape and thought processes
of one humble human
Matthew Scott Harris
while supremely, soundlessly, seamlessly,
echoing beloved refrains
from computer generated verses
that would be indistinguishable
from Joni Mitchell's
original song titled the circle game.
Today I heard,
despite considerable dissonance,
a distinction between external change
and internal transformation.
This feels like a difference with some merit,
but reminds me of further nuances
and possibilities for healthy
and pathological transitions,
great and small.
Transformation
seems like a good thing.
A negative internal change
evokes words like
deterioration,
fragmentation,
While "change"
works for me
as positive or negative,
more neutral without context,
direction determined by environmental co-arisings,
or yet to become determined,
evaluated,
And what about the cause-effect
and/or co-arising relationship,
or lack of relationship,
between exterior changing climates
and interior transforming/fragmenting cultures
or climates,
character
and character assassinations?
I remember Gregory Bateson's fascination
with "acclimation"
which he concluded is, in some ways,
co-acclimation--
more often creolizing
than colonizing.
Which brings me back
to noticing that "climate change"
feels like climate fragmentation
and my growing pre-traumatic stress
does not feel at all like a healthy transformation;
more like debilitation
Further evoking discernment
about how our cultural subclimates of disability,
fracture,
disruption of ego/eco-centric balance,
contribute to toxicity
of exterior climate change.
Perhaps "transition" is a better interior consort
for the exterior neutered face of "change";
and here we all are,
together and yet too far apart
in this unprecedented time
of Re/De-Generative Change
and billions of individual small
yet Great Transitions.
Warm wind circulates
night's conspiracy of primal option:
Stand up with me!
or Give way!,
let us have this day,
it cannot be your's alone.
We bare too many sickly souls
for soulful mediocrity.
Stand up with me.
Help.
Or, please get out of our healthy way
for this day is ours
to plant and harvest
produce and consume
dance and sing EarTherapy
Consumer mind with productive body
empowering healthy integrity
and authentic in/out-facing normativity
as from polycultural wealthy old
Tao's neuro/geo-systemic
wu-wei re/de-generative
Me/We pole/hole
dominant/recessive
mind/body win/wintegrity
Crown/root yang/yinergy
Peak resilience/valley-resonant co-relational
passion/pleasure
EarthMuseCalling CoOperative.
Fast as an atomic banshee, he roils sacred halls
of White House clutches levers with brass balls
American powers remain unrestrained when he calls
Armada to exorcise imagine aery dragons,
he inarticulately falls
non-communicative, faux eruditely generative,
and heartily galls
toward this introspective kickstarter male,
and most likely others he appalls.
-------------------------------------------------
My inner guru hankers to share voice
amidst increasing din
and clamors in reaction to insidious machinations fin
hushed via Machiavellian offal prince,
who unleashes clout with Cheshire grin
unconcerned about population, chaste,
from their wells Fargo wing.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Most every citizen banker, and kin
stared down vis a vis fierce-some intimations
catapult escalating, spin
laughing at rigged voting outlook
gratefully inflicts populace with monstrous win
doomsday soldiers -
art of the deal book not writ by said urchin.
-------------------------------------------------
Though regularly affiliated with top notch
kudos to virtual soapbox platform
re: all poetry to express Bing averse
toward ill feted Barron settlement
of United States government tossed like scotch
on thar hocks, thus an uneasy angst
also invisibly grabs me by the crotch
cuz das Trump power monger,
I fear rubric of democracy, he will botch!
-------------------------------------------------
This poem alternately titled -
harbinger of political debacle wolf find antipode
where toxic brew at crack of 12 a.m.
January 20th 2017 doth bode
doctored pregnant swollen tidal anarchistic military toad
deeds sheepishly shape into battalions
in tandem - fraternal order of police erode
Civilian protesters unite with ordinary citizen bankers
crowdsource sing metallic ca clash to goad
Form:
Porches,
attached decks,
patios,
intimate places for alfresco,
These make a difference
between a fortressed house
and a transparent home,
between an ego castle
and an eco-habitat.
We also spread rhododendron bushes
and hostas,
flowers and ferns
around our stone
and concrete bound foundations.
We want stable defenses
but prefer to camouflage houses
in organic color,
life giving and taking shapes.
These boundary vistas
speak of heart felt reminders
our habitat is rooted
in Earth's wilderness
In vulnerability
hidden from transparency
except with those who share our sacred space
inside
and upon,
within our co-passioned present time,
Presence bonding,
double-binding,
re-membering past wildness
anticipating future re-generative
re-storative
re-habituating
re-acclimating
re-bounding win/lose less
for more win/win paradise
Just barely 2020 visible
and silently audible
and fresco fragranced
and tasted,
felt
and so nearly touched
longing into belonging
on our cooperatively-owned front porch.
Language breathes. Dictionaries opened their doors to thousands: petrichor finally named, gigil crossing oceans from Tagalog hearts, morto carrying Irish embarrassment across continents. Each word a technofossil in reverse and not debris but seed. Where analog crumbles into digital decay, new phonemes sprout from chat windows and kitchen tables, from Glasgow to Manila, Waterford to Johannesburg.
After warm rain falls
petrichor naming something
we always had known
The mouse jiggler hums on desks where we WFH, pretending presence while bed rotting through Sundays, doom-scrolling until brain fog sets in. A chatbot asks if I'm still there. Ghost kitchens feed nobody's neighbourhood. We've made words for our hollow industriousness, our productive stillness, our illuminated solitude, each term a hard pass at something we cannot quite refuse.
Screen glow at midnight
even the AI wonders
if we're still awake
But listen: teenagers shout skibidi at nothing and everything, absolutely delulu with joy, their rizz and aura untranslatable to us, perfect in their imperfection. A girl shows her butter skin lewk and someone says she ate and left no crumbs, bet. In Dublin, they're morto over spice bags; in Kuala Lumpur, tapau your nasi lemak with kaya on the side. The mouth remembers before the dictionary does. Alamak, how we've been speaking new languages all along.
Grandmother's recipe
lumpia rolls carrying words
the page can't hold yet
Perhaps this is the burnt toast theory of linguistics: what seems lost makes room for what must come. The broligarchy names itself. Gen Alpha coins snackable for their fractured attention, honest about their inheritance. Climavores choose with conscience; we practice eco-minimalism like prayer. Generative AI makes prose while we make slang, both of us biohacking meaning from the ruins of the old world, both of us marvelling that anything grows at all.
Sharp-sharp, we greet
this shoogly train of language
hold on, enjoy ride
Generative Persistence
Give it a name; “generative presence”, “persistence”
Emergent with life, feeling and a pulse
Send it on its way while clinging to the egg
Enable it from a distance to become of use
Keep yourself in a suggestive cocoon
State of fixation, enameled in stasis
Embedded in concrete reality if only to form
Wrapped in patterns, in sequences, in character, in disarray
Care to be objective, immersive, informative, and inspired
Decline to describe, suggest, discuss, gaps between life
Grasp the past meandering. Record the record of history
Understand; you are a guest in your own home
In your own existence; fantasies not included
Invoke the yoke of yellow, involve useful dialogue
Desirable, normal, absurd diagnosis of that which is
Adapt to youth as it passes
Glanced at by events unfolding, reflected in a mirror
Placed appropriately in your path
From the context, content of that which is perceived
In the persistence of memory let it live
I once heard,
Hope is what can positively happen
after listening to all the realistic facts
and then continuing in good faith anyway.
I also heard,
Cynicism about others,
like narcissism about oneself,
is sadly generative,
expansively powerful,
contagious
Just as hope about others
and compassion with oneself
are happily generative,
exponentially win/win contagious.
Both negative and positive attitudes are generative,
but hope is cooperatively regenerative
while external cynicism,
like internal narcissism,
like ecopolitical fascism,
is degenerative,
competitively contagious,
inviting a long, slow, painful
lose/lose death.
Cynicism flirts with Lose/Lose outcomes
projections
often escalated by competing
"If you think that's horrible enough,
listen to this terrifying
or merely titillating tale..."
Despite our broken
wounded
depressing cynically competing natures
and narcissistic nurtures
of Business As Usual stories of competing
capital-hoarding ego-centrism,
Active 2020 hope looks for WinLeft/WinRight options,
plans,
eco-operatively reassociating
mutual ego-healing
across all multicultural
and polypathic
non-sectarian
good-faith systems,
cooperatively-owned nutritional networks.
Cynicism projects Earth's LoseLose demise.
Scepticism questions, doubts, humanity's WinLose economy
could ever become a long-term healthy trajectory.
Optimism actively hopes a short-term investment
in egocentric deflation, dis-investment, detachment
will lead to long-term Lose to Win
healthier egocentric evolution
some other climate darkening day.
WinWin optimization
cooperatively goodfaiths (gospels), mentor
models short-term through long-term compassionate ecstasy
restoring peace and holistic justice
Green sanctuary 2020 left/right
yang/yin
universal/unitarian (not fragmentarian) revolutions,
regeneration/degeneration options
every bicameral day
every binomial ego/eco-where
with every one
regathering bilateral interior-beliefs
compassioning exterior-behavior.
Regenerate hope is what happens
after listening to all the RealTalk
co-operating healthy passions
any way
any time
any where
everyday.
funk organism
duck bread quacking
alan rickman beatboxing
dial up modem (beep cshhh whirr)
funk arbitrator
duck pond curator
swamp navigating for a
beefy alligator (chomp)
deploy the boredom override
noise of eight-o-eight motorized
hans grueber mimicks three hundred baud line
heavy accent four-o-fouring up the skies
download duck bread, baked all night
organism fiending for a yeasty delight (funk)
alligator chompsky
interested in anarchy
says grammar is arbitrary
can't find a blank slate
no tabula rasa
a.i. duck synergy
neural synchronicity
quacking down the phone line
music serendipity
chompsky downloads the grammar
duck uploads the drama
universal syntax found
in the quacking sound
transformational generative
funk imperative
deep structure surface level
bitrate deranged like the devil
rickman voice compressed to eight bit
sound deposit sounds like profit
flapping the vibe quacking beauty
a.i. duck just doing its duty
modem screech becomes a symphony
organic digital epiphany
funk organism final form
duck bread warm
modem connects to the swarm
chompsky says grammar’s universal
duck says the funk still needs dispersal
alligator chomps the wires
funk organism never tires
(never tires, never tires)
As pre-pubescent predilections erected
a shadow in my mirror
A more safely theological "Problem of Evil"
evolved into the elephant in my bedroom
of my own irresistible Evil nature:
My longing for mutually beloving
intimate relationships
that could only be masculine compelling
and true
and good
if spiritually "evil."
Yet when I spoke with Elder trees,
listened to mourning dove sighs,
watched seasons surf
synergetic equipoise,
I felt passionate omnipresence
still-struggling toward a polyculturing grace
of radically omnipotent grace,
bi-generative sacred place.
Natural systems seemed bisexually organizing
and inclusively regenerative,
or human nature cannot thrive
a bicameral balancing mind
within EarthTribe's evolving body.
Evil revolves more justly
when perceived backward.
My good and true resolution
to Live
as multiculturally compassionate
as possible.