Long Grata Poems
Long Grata Poems. Below are the most popular long Grata by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grata poems by poem length and keyword.
7 Versos Livres
Crença
O meu e o Seu coração
pode assumir qualquer forma:
1. Um prado para gazelas,
2. Um claustro para monges,
3. Um bálsamo para doentes
4. solo sagrado para crentes.
O credo do coração
é amor;
presente onde quer
que seu caminho se desvie.
Isso é a crença do coração
a fé do coração.
************
Morrer para renascer
Sempre pergunte:
"Estou pronta para
mudar a minha vida,
estou pronta
para me mudar?”“.
Em qualquer idade
seja o que for que passamos,
é sempre possível renascer.
************
Dificuldades, Problemas e Erros Linguísticos
A maioria
das Dificuldades
e dos problemas do mundo
deriva de erros linguísticos
e simples mal-entendidos.
Evite os erros:
nunca tome palavras pelo valor de face.
Quando você entra na zona do amor,
a linguagem como a conhecemos
se torna obsoleta.
Aquilo que não pode ser colocado
em palavras
só pode ser compreendido
através do silêncio.
************
Ecos da montanha e o mundo
Este mundo é como uma montanha.
Seu eco depende de você.
Se você gritar coisas boas, o mundo vai devolver.
Se você gritar coisas ruins, o mundo vai devolver.
Fale sempre o bem.
Seja grata.
Mude seu coração para mudar o mundo.
************
Passado e Futuro
O passado é uma interpretação.
O futuro está na ilusão.
O mundo não se move no tempo
procedendo do passado
para o futuro.
O tempo passa através
e dentro de nós,
em espirais infinitas.
A eternidade é intemporalidade.
Se quer experimentar
a iluminação eterna,
coloque o passado
e o futuro
fora de sua mente
e permaneça no momento presente.
Assim,
Vai criar um grande futuro
Hoje.
************
Onde procurar
Onde procurar o céu
e o inferno no futuro.
Acredite:
ambos estão agora presentes.
sempre que conseguimos amar sem expectativas,
amar sem cálculos,
sem negociações,
estamos de fato no céu.
Sempre que brigamos,
Ou odiamos, estamos no inferno.
************
Pacienciar
O que significa
pacienciar?
Significa
olhar para o espinho
e ver a rosa,
olhar a noite
e ver o amanhecer.
Impaciência significa
ter visão curta
e não ver a fruta
na semente.
Pessoas bem resolvidas
Pacienciam e
sabem que o tempo
é necessário
para que a lua crescente
se torne plena
a semente crie frutas.
Oodles Of Google Doodles...
visually delicious as germane strudels
the following cooked years ago
courtesy me noggin awash with noodles.
Yours truly crafted remaining poem
around 27th July 2018
idea arose within me cerebral dome.
...As poetic theme came to mind
in a Serge without a waiver
thus, I took a virtual Page
from Google LLC to slaver
with little effort
in an acceptable
rhyming rant and raver
about said American
multinational technology company
that rode dot com bubble,
where other startups did quaver
specializing in Internet-
related services and products
rolled out amidst
much fanfare palaver
though odd, how such an obvious
idea hit me like figurative brick
over thine noggin
upon instantaneously espying
Lyudmila Vladimirovna Rudenko
Soviet chess player, and second
women's world chess champion,
from 1950 until 1953
when bitta bing bitta
chitty chitty bang bang
that eureka momenta did click
mental wheels and cogs
as if...an oil derrick
hit a mother lode, thence subsequently
inducing automatic flick
as latest feted persona grata
gets done up in bold face and/or Italic,
nonetheless a commendable
spontaneous fantastic burst
of inspirational magic
commensurate with mine
modest prolific quixotic
of course, I WON'T applaud
idea de jure as terrific
and puzzle over, how such "a ha"
brilliant idea did not occur to this -
Ok la home ma sooner
ushering world wide
webbed trumped "FAKE"brouhaha
sooner to the mind
of this humble caca
Louie, who admittedly
feels tidy bowl flush with
goo goo Lady gaga
(tony the TIGER FEELING great,
a mild euphoria if gifted
as lottery winner)
over the top smugness -
unaware of jeering ha ha ha
within dark internet arena,
where the much maligned,
loathed, and feared Jaw
bar wall key (jabberwocky)
dwells ready to pounce
outsize egos hated
like an incorrigible outlaw
hmm...perhaps cognizant
ex post facto, I set
a deadly faux paw
forever remembered as
ornery oaf forced to eat raw
bits (hexadecimal at that!)
sucked in via last turkey in straw
that broke the camel's back.
Management here at
Highland Manor Apartments sent out word
that tomorrow, January twenty third,
two thousand and twenty one,
we (all residents) will receive the first (of two)
inoculations to stave off getting COVID-19,
hence mine poetic title might seem absurd.
Aforementioned stance toward death
obviously antithetical
regarding desire to stay alive
and most oppressive
when mine mental, physical
and/or spiritual yours truly
takes a (swan) dive
analogous where bajillion bees
swarm from their hive.
Linkedin with well known poem by and by
penned by Emily Dickinson, I didst decry
expressed her relief to die
"Because I could not stop for Death,"
she aptly crafted verses to comply
reverently, merrily, and gloriously accepting
cessation of existence well nigh
as does one garden variety generic goofy guy.
All natural catastrophes aside,
plus excluding thermonuclear war,
where civilization would get fried
nullifying idea viz,
let conscience be your guide,
nor no place to run and hide
left to grapple with dystopian quandary
shuttering fright housed inside
in one poof annihilating prejudice
(white privilege included) and pride
reducing to ashes trumpeting
self importance, where snide
persona grata becomes irrelevant
as does living social
or vacationing in Telluride.
Interestingly enough,
I do not entertain notions
inflicting self harm nor suicide,
but expect longevity (to ride
one after another orbitz around the sun)
maximum total (represented courtesy
value units and tens place)
at minimum exceeds double digits
in plain English aged
to perfection groom and bride
attains at least ninety nine years.
Despite skittering within hair's breadth or blink
looming over the edge no time to think,
cuz no matter being knight in shining armor
I can scrunch and squint thru visored chink,
and espy and the title
of a storied book by Tom Wolfe I think
Old Rotten Gotham sliding into behavioral sink,
amidst so much flotsam and jetsam
while singing Skidamarink
surrender unavoidable fate
cuz destiny dis rapper doth not shrink
and recognizes that whatever does not kill
will only make me stronger
(money back guarantee)
I attain a spry five score birthdays
and while away hours
playing solitary game of tiddlywink.
Cantos Uno Obsessive Eclipse Octavia
Israel is like a mote on mankind’s face
Born on May 14 1948 ,
A host of problems a bloody disgrace
I see two eclipses to change it’s fate,
A lunar eclipse Sept 7 next year
A rotten tepid corpse is Isreal’ end,
Dec 28 2 years away I fear
Which lunar eclipse could fulfill the trend.
There are some partial lunar eclipses too
They are 4 and 5 years apart in time ,
Will these doom angels assure Isreal is through?
Israel gone -time for Palestine to shine
And The last eclipse is to far away,
I might be dead that time who is to say
The first partial eclipse I will be here ,
What doom will I find on the blogosphere
Cancer is on Israel’s tenth house end
Saturn in Cancer a weak place for sure ,
Moon in tenth conjunct Saturn -a friend
The Moon godliness. for Saturn is the cure,
Let us look at the Nakshatra for the Moon
A godly message for Israel -a boon ?
The Moon’s Nakshatra is in the 8th cell
Pushya acts godly as far I can tell.
Cantos Duo: Considerazioni Astrologiche
And Israel’s 7th house cusp is Aries. too
And plenty of foreign disputes to date
And Mars in Leo in the 11th -true
Ready for war that it anticipates
For Israel it is not an good investment
This behaviour just brings resentment
Israel can be to aggressive to some
To self assured in disputes they think they won
But the 7th house is Israel’s allies
When Mars transits the Tenth time for a coup
With the above config allies strategize
Mars nakshatra,Magha great success too
Sun is in Taurus -gets resources from friends
Ruled by Venus in the 9th bucks never end
Wars it undertakes they feel surely blest
Wars it undertakes ,it feels it passed the test
The Sun’s Nakshatra is called Krittaka
The Sun acts like a persona non grata
Envoi:
Isreal civic views are like swine
Eclipses purport drastic change
Warn Israel free Palestine
If you don’t change you are deranged
Take no crap from Zionists too
And they twist facts to thier taste
If we do mankind is screwed
Set them straight else all is a waste
Not all Jews are Zionists too
These Jews think these folk are morons ,
Please I ask don’t conflate the two
No, then you will get a sermon.
a tsunami catapulted cruising skiff
skyward landing with quiet thud
across undulating infinite granular waves
formerly solid state rocks and minerals
optimism vibrant upon initial unforeseen
crash asper for test dummies
foundered as undertow fostered diminishing hope
initial faith for survival quickly ebbed
nsync with retreating tidal wave
pessimism dreamt fantastical holograms
farther from beached berth
immediately transformed into quicksand,
while off in the distance
a glimmering chimera
(the first of many) appeared
amidst the desert sands one mirage
after another falsely broken promise
buoyed drained salvation
quick decision decreed each man for himself
thus disseminating banded bruited "brothers"
condemnation, damnation, excoriation, fulmination
hurled at cosmic creator thwarting intercession
dehydration, exhaustion, ingratiation, jubilation
foretold merciless portentous demise
witheringly desiccating lovely bones of mine
no doubt raw elements of nature wrought
fate worse than death sans, cabin "mates"
lost among expanse of whittled quartz
across chronometer measuring millions of years
now subjecting one measly mortal i.e. me
to cruel unforgiving, unrelenting,
unwelcoming petty coated junction
blistering hot wind obliterated
fellow travelers convoy deeply
within diabolical dunes
eternally erased doom
awaited for 21st century explorers
to discover scattered wreckage
both beast of burden, outrigged contrivance
and starry trekkers, who vanished without a trace
a handful of scrappy rapscallion existences
blotted (like ink, oil, or other liquid sponged),
where subsequent seasons
of wicked bewitched slow torture
akin to being raked over hot coals
exception made for this interminable sufferer
at the whim of sadistic
persona non grata evil spirit
n'er obliterating diehard survivor instinct
a foreigner to yours truly
but atavistic primitive fight or flight
witnessed relieved whence absently blinking
this life married to indiscriminate
clamped, harried, styled devilishness
evaporated in thin air
upon tentatively opening myopic brown eyes
horror, twas boot a dream.
Oy vey iz mir, one day in the life of a common house broken schmeckle...,
who did pötschke
and squander many an opportunity
to become a mensch
instead he became persona non grata
condemned to a history of misery,
not unlike Doctor Hyde and Mister Jekyll,
where friends, Romans countrymen did heckle.
After all said and done,
I best have stayed
safe and sound in the womb,
or hopefully at the least honored after death
with a squadron of B-52s
flying overhead with vroom
while being enshrined in a tomb,
cuz the living years of yours truly (me),
one after another trial and tribulation did loom
which figurative weave
courtesy weft and warp wove gloom
ordained I experienced hell on earth,
thus an inescapable doom
left no option except to skadaddle
into the outer limits of the twilight zone
at the edge of night
courtesy magic broom.
Plenty of times,
I ate in a crowded house,
where the crawdads sing
sinking their teeth into cranberries, meatloaf
and red hot chili peppers
served with a side order of pop slop
don't be put off by the name,
which mishmash actually yum zook,
nevertheless cuisine fiends spurred a tussle
where flock of seagulls
who got into a spat took
sparring mates to the cleaners
with angry yardbirds twittering about xyz,
and tweeting when loosely translated
into English language essentially meant
much ado about floccinaucinihilipilification,*
(Sounds like
flaa·suh·now·suh·nai·uh·luh·pi·luh·fuh·kay·shn)
according to legendary interpretation
by expert ornithologist with keen insight
rivaling that of the eagles
known for their skill playing chess
ofttimes, use an upside-down rook
to designate a queen
under United States chess federation
rules and in casual play take a look
for yourself, rather than believe amateur
what might be considered poppycock hook
line and sinker qualifying as gobbledygook,
which utter nonsense I did cook
up, yet please feel welcome my gibberish to brook
*the estimation of something as worthless.
Pre-puberty years
Playful innocence
Warm ready embrace
Quarrels, aberrations
Rapidly erased
An uncluttered mind
Open, forgiving heart
Reborn each morn anew
Growing up, ego manifests
Taught to be street smart
Testosterone levels high
Feral instincts prevail
In the game of one-upmanship
Need to win our obsession
Heart shrouded in darkness
Conscience whispers in dreams
Upon expending our energy
Recognising earth life transience
We look at dark thought spirals
A Frankenstein we created
Remorseless devouring our soul
We are astonished and dismayed
Looking at these sunken vibrations
We have chosen to stagnate in
To erase negativity from its roots
We stop the flow of turbid thoughts
By shifting our attention inwards
Into the hidden recesses of our heart
In time stretched stillness and silence
Negating the oscillations that surface
Until we become a rippleless lake
Choosing to remain for eternity thus
In timeless time, the false falls away
Fulcrum of our consciousness, space
Our mind-body now an empty shell
Cleansed of erst ego borne dark stains
Reveals from deep within our heart
Our true self shining, bubbling with bliss
Magnetised by the healing light divine
Suffusing all nodes with ecstatic rapture
Boundaries blur between others and us
We feel underlying interconnectedness
Recognising in time that love alone real
All other vibrations but thought constructs
Entrapping our attention in myriad illusions
Plunging our consciousness in delusion
Thus we meld head with heart and love
Twice born here now in the flesh, erect
Earth dream life yet plays on in as ordained
We enact our role in resonation with love
Our vaporised self is immune from harm
Simply because there is no identity within
That that is, is a bliss mist, a living light
Empowered by the sublime breath of God
Thus we inhale vital life force with gratitude
With exhalation in simplistic childlike surrender
16-October-2021
Where is the Justice?
(The Eden Agenda II)
Where is the justice? ..the question
But small is the matter at hand
For fairness was lost at creation
It’s useless to take a stand.
Existence of man is a sham
Even the beasts know no peace
For man is the cause of their qualm
To them, the greatest disease.
Where is this peace that we seek?
It’s hopeless to look up above
Just look at our history: it’s bleak
Man will shoot [and then eat] the Dove.
Looking for love is preposterous
Man ‘loves’ to kill and do ill
Love turns to hate; so dangerous
Comes greed, jealousy and ill-will.
Where is this ‘love’ when we cry?
A ‘loved’ dear one - now deceased
Can they still love up on high?
Or is ‘love’ just pain, increased?
Go to a neighbour for a hug
Make this your next ‘Port of call’
If they ask why, just shrug
And say ‘shoo!!!.. damn protocol’.
Where is the nous we employed
When judging a man for his crime?
The first-timer ‘guilty’ destroyed
We make those that repent do time.
Asking for help from a stranger
Is no worse than asking a brother
Too much emphasis on danger
Means we’ll never trust each other.
Where is the truth in this life?
That concept still gets us tongue-tied
How can we avoid all the strife
When every man born has once lied.
Is death a friend in disguise?
Albeit strangely mysterious
Who can tell of mortal demise
We grieve; perhaps should be joyous.
Where is the trust of the ‘self’?
When living is all raw emotion.
One moment of madness itself,
Is part of passion in motion!
To be the hermit …or hero?
Both content with their life-role
The end-game of both? …still zero
As, useless, they lie in a hole.
‘Where is the justice?’….I ask
I asked not to be born …yet I’ll die!!!
‘Persona non grata’ on my cask
Just pray for this world.... and sigh!
(The Fg 81.5.8)
Alter-ego Alias ergo Alibis vice versa Non-status quo Persona-non-Grata Ad hoc de facto In situ in loco Per se errata et cetera Habeas corpus scrip ex gratia Compos mentis Amor Omnia
Transmogrification into hideous golem like beast...
Seeks to lavish adoration,
especially after freshly deceased
cuz, upon yar flesh I will voraciously
devour thee asthma Christmas feast
mee haint not a cannibal,
cuz this humane anthropophagist
expresses love daintily, hungrily,
and with lips smacking and creased
devours thee charbroiled,
chargrilled, raw or greased.
The above worst case scenario if you
ignore serious warning
and interrupt my sleep
particularly during
rapid eye movement phase,
cuz vital to dream unconsciously deep
if left alone (meaning no awakening me
into foggy, groggy, and soggy state)
lest I manifest into a creep
more horrific (think)
by Dickens Uriah Heep.
Ordinarily mine Hyde bound diabolical
persona non grata
kept under wraps
dramatic malevolent manifestation
only appears only,
when requisite precious dream snaps
courtesy when some wise acre
foolish enough upon me noggin
doth drums, joyfully raps
itty in Blue knuckles (think drum),
cuz as An American in Paris
on permanent holiday courtesy lapse
of rhyme reason
(thank prefrontal lobotomy
to alleviate oppressive
anxiety linkedin with)
absence of necessary cerebral apps
induces predilection to relapse
into atavistic Geico caveman perhaps,
with courtesy bonafide frayed jockstraps
suddenly pops, crackles and snaps
in my body whereby sanity doth caps
eyes, that mashing monster aside,
ye ken count me mandate
fiend in Southeastern Pennsylvania
look no further then bleached lovely bones
formerly missus (sob...sob...sob...)
who thankfully no longer zaps.
Thus allowing, enabling,
and providing yours truly,
not ordinarily unruly
a bachelor Matthew Scott,
(but never known as Dani Boy) duly
available as coolie
cooking up house special wooly
mammoth and side order of tabouli.