Long Hawking Poems
Long Hawking Poems. Below are the most popular long Hawking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hawking poems by poem length and keyword.
THE PIPER He came from nowhere piping. We danced and danced in his trail. Our eyes popped out as elation swayed us. Suddenly, His pipe creaked and cracked. All feet hung as
sky dimmed her lights...
Silhouettes of Gun -shooting Devils everywhere..
Plodding hands of death lurking in the dark, lurking in the open... like hawk, Hawking chicken... Human heads fallen off as of woodcutters in frenzy.
cutting down trees.
Cry, my beloved Country!, Nigeria! how fast you fade, fading into oblivion, like a soviet. Oh Soviet! I bemoan you; once a cathedral's bell, you chimmed for all nations, now a shadow lying beneath history.
And the Piper! Now a prisoner for his people because he said no to a carnibal system, because he said no to a divide and rule system...
Your music is forever replaying to our hearts.
By Akudolu Ignatius
Make haste to befriend the toro meanly reared away from spectator prying eyes
by dread alone the bull is nurtured and prodded to terrify
and when at last the ranchero’s silhouette appears in the arena it charges
Wake! India! Wake!
There are no greater mysteries than those your scientists can unravel
the only mysteries that persist are those drummed by priests into your brains
even a helpless Stephen Hawking can pierce the Aryan mystery by silent reflection
Wake! India! Wake!
Let those who seek power in the polls seek it for their own sakes
sooner or later sooner than later they too will pass away
their power gnawing at their bones will feed the etherising flames of their pyres
Wake! India! Wake!
Let those who seek to challenge their power challenge it for their own sakes
they too will rot in the chains they have willingly chained themselves in
for they too seek power for the sake of power and for theirs and their own comfort
Wake! India! Wake!
And let them all pass over you you who have borne in quiet pain
mauling under the pretext of mournful migrations and the Mughal might
Mohenjodaro and Harrappa notwithstanding Vijayanagar and Kaveripumpattinam
Wake! India! Wake!
Do not for a moment think your sons have deserted you
nor your daughters gone to spawn with other spouses under other suns
your needs are their needs your tears their blood coursing in their veins
Wake! India! Wake!
If you had woken up earlier to tend to your shores to tend to the marauders at the border
letting only the lone Kshatriya exert his martial art abused by fine courtly comfort
you would not now wonder how a Rajput court at Mewar drove Akbar to such lengths
Wake! India! Wake!
(Continued in Part One - 10)
I thought poetry is
-name of Mesopotamia which was the first civilization to emerge in human history
-ancient cave peoples surviving life struggle
I thought poetry is
-an immortal love story of Yousuf- Zulekha, Shirin-Farhad, Laila-Majnu or Romeo-Juliet
-a telephonic or open love conversation of smiling postmodern girls
-drying wet colorful clothes of beloved in the courtyard of the house
-haring of beloved with tuberose garland before a mirror
I thought poetry is
-lizards chirping from the deserted house; cockroach flying
-quarrelsome cats in the black dark or barking dogs
-the struggle of mosquito for human blood
-traveling of the arrogant indecent animals all over the night
I thought poetry is
-thrilling venturous ghostly stories of J. K. Rowling
-self-expression of known-unknown writers
-unspoken tale of a war-wounded soldier
-the regret of the thousands of dead soldiers
-the unwritten fantasy of an isolated poet
-the lonely guitar or ektara of dead singers
I thought poetry is
-without reel tie an independent flying of a kite in the sky
-in the blue sky sovereign flapping of birds
-movement of invisible winds everywhere
-hearing story of fairytale crossing of green forest
I thought poetry is
-handmade airing of newly married girl to a new groom in lunch time
-dyed hands of nubile girls by mehndi,
-captivating sounds of jingling anklet and kamarband of dancing damsels
I thought poetry is
-classic music of Pandit Ravi Shankar
-immortal tune of Ustad Bismillah Khan's shehnai
-compilation of humanitarian lyrics of the legend Bob Marley
-heart touching reciting of the Holy Quran of Qari Abdul Basit
I thought poetry is
-unforgettable philosophical discussion of Socrates with his disciples
-the philosophic lineage of learning such as Socrates-Plato-Aristotle
-immortal scientific creations of Newton, Galileo, Einstein, Nikola Tesla, Hawking
I thought poetry is
-unremitting prayer or worship of any prevailed religion devotee to get heaven
-inhuman history of bombing on the Hiroshima and Nagasaki or brutality of 1st or 2nd World War
These all are just my thinking,
my thinking is free
on my path
but poetry is poetry,
more than any thinking, many more;
on its path
Poetry is independent fully
-June 27, 2019 Chattogram
It's all imaginary
it's all real
it's all ephemeral
all eternal
every little gesture
every racing emotion
every breathless whisper
every dark and mystical room
overflowing with night air and moonlight
nothing is ever lost
truth is what is not forgotten
suffering, we learn
learning is remembering
the pain you give me
brings me back to myself
and I remember
who and what I was
before I had eyes or ears or even chloroplasts
the symbol on my hand is changing
on fire
like all of gleaming reality itself
the pearl of price which blinds the impoverished merchants
who wander naked and lost
hawking all their wares on every noisome corner
the fire is all consuming
all sanctifying
all purifying
all changing
all revealing
I am in the fire
and in the fire, all is holy
and every last thing is eternally in flames (even the merchants)
and sleep is the great activity
and death is a dear friend
who betrays with one kiss
but whose betrayal is love incarnate
I am one
with my many selves
and though I may be above you
you hear my voice
you fumble after the meaning until it finds you
I am
the light bursting out of a broken lantern
the diamond with an infinite number of perfect cuts
the voice crying milk and honey into the wilderness
the children's song that flies above the lamentation up on the desert plane
the melody that found its way into your equations
the dream that startles you wide awake
the life that pulsates in decay and corruption
the happily ever after horror story
I am
the unstoppable force
that meets the immovable object
and the result is nothing
nothing but the purest, clearest light
that has never entered the mind
take heart, my love
the raging storms of your own neurochemical electricity
will give birth to their own silence
all thought is designed to produce its own resounding negation
all speech is born to fade beautifully
all music is played until it is over
and it's closing time
and the bars empty
and the streets grow silent and still under the street lights
and the last enemy, who you fear with the Great Fear
unmasks herself, a friend and a lover
The Lover of lovers
and trembling
you fall forever into her holy and erotic embrace
Incomprehensible space/time continuum intrigues...
One insignificant, infinitesimal
incomprehensibleness cosmic speck,
who doth readily confess
swallowed within
infinite cosmic wormhole, nonetheless,
he feels mind boggled, fascinated,
transfixed... helpless to express
following concept suddenly
gripping his feeble mental compass.
I haint never gonna get
smart enough to understand
supposedly how universe
under contract to expand
subscribers embracing divine
intervention ascribe to invisible hand
cosmographical phenomena defies
garden variety *****sapien
understanding schema so grand
feeble analogy whereby
Neanderthal apt to understand
lingual mechanics predicated
I grammatically, markedly, pointedly...
exclaim with ampersand.
No particular reason nor rhyme
prompted contemplation
Einsteinian/ Stephen
Hawking concepts sublime
defy one average guy
way past his prime
ideal, optimal, universal... time
to fortify i.e. cognitive ability
brewing, immersing, steeping... gray matter
within astrophysicist clime,
now punishing ignorance mime
limited aptitude climb
stymied best taught during childhood
undoubtedly education pioneer - Haim
Ginott speculate would even
advocate buzzfeeding fetus
with intelligent boosting enzyme.
I chomp at the metaphorical bridled bit
and chafe not being genius like Trump pit
ing president (gag me with a spoon),
and lemme don pith helm mitt
this crash test dummy, whit
no shadow of doubt ready to quit
human race if said nitwit
nabs 20/20 election twit
tilling, spindling, mutilating,
fondling... constitutional sacred writ
issuing dynastic emperor gambit
hastening cremated ashes (mine)
launched into distant orbit
bajillion light years
careering, hopscotching, zipping
eventually reincarnated into runny Babbit
ironically enslaved for profit
blindly obedient dagnabbit,
indentured as intergalactic caddy
fired while under probation as apprentice
up Paul ling lee forced to exit
Sartre's stage door left sporting
embarrassing MAGA prison outfit
hustled away courtesy
as laughingstock exhibit.
Thus, I helm ship of state into black void
alone within cosmos, yes...overjoyed!
Infinity has no ending,
It is boundless and unbending.
No power can delay the course,
Of the irresistible force.
And "nothing" is its counterpart,
There is no beating in its heart.
Yet it deserves the same respect,
It's the immovable object.
Each one of these is absolute,
A concept science might dispute,
But if you view it logically,
Perhaps you might agree with me.
For "nothing" is clearly defined,
And it is perfectly designed,
It is the absence of all things,
No space, no God, no angel's wings.
And gravity would not exist,
Though Stephen Hawking might resist.
No scientific articles,
On subatomic particles.
And space and time could never be,
No empty void for gravity.
Each theory science has defined,
Was conceived by a human mind.
Imagination fueled their spark,
That life came bursting from the dark,
But even darkness can be framed,
Identified, and duly named.
But "nothing" is absent of this,
It's not some stygian abyss,
No defined "thing" will you detect,
In the immovable object.
Ideas have another source,
That's the irresistible force.
Within, ALL "things" can be defined,
Imagined by the human mind.
Infinity won't be contained,
Its nature cannot be constrained.
There is no "nothing" at its end,
No other force can make it bend.
And if perception dwells in you,
Could it not then as well be true,
That perception might also be,
An aspect of infinity?
Imagination can be framed,
And perception properly named.
Which means such concepts must exist,
So consciousness can't be dismissed.
Are such ideas so far fetched?
Has logic been overly stretched?
Must thought be an organic trait?
Or is it an infinite state?
Was the irresistible force
Conceived by an opposing source?
Could it have come, as some expect,
From the immovable object?
Such opposites could never meet,
This is an impossible feat.
If one exists, the other can't,
Despite the seeds some theories plant.
Reality is what's perceived,
Our minds accept what is believed.
But more exists beyond the veil,
Infinite seas on which to sail.
And I will sail these seas with you,
Where every port of call is new,
No power can delay the course
Of the irresistible force.
Father?
Have You looked at us lately?
We're so far away
And so full of hate, for each other.
Father?
Have You listened much lately?
The things that we say
Make my head hang in shame and disgrace.
Father?
Are You reading the papers?
The things that are written
Make me think that we're smitten with pride and conceit.
And Father
Will You be voting?
The people on both sides are hoping
Sure hoping You see things their way?
Father?
Have You seen Your house lately?
They're pretending You're there while pretending to care.
Acting like they've got it all worked out/shadow boxing the air.
Scoring each round and,
Strutting and hawking our wares.
Father
The children are dying.
Mothers are crying.
No one seems to care.
Father?
Do any lives really matter?
It seems like the mad hatter is debating the wind with the Hare.
Father?
Seems like we trust in the voting booth more than the closet of prayer.
Father?
Are You paying attention?
Guess I failed to mention
We're in the express lane so hurry?
Father?
Can You take my order I called in advance?
Like the genie in the bottle.
And please hurry when You get the chance.
.
Father?
After all this
Are we too far gone?
What have we missed?
And Father,
We're so good at judging
And telling You just where we think You need to be.
Father,
It's easy to see when it's someone else not me.
And
How do we find our way home?
And
Have we been gone too long?
And
Do You still care?
Are you still there?
Are we all alone?
Please take us home to the 51st psalm?
.
Create . . . in me, a clean heart
Renew a right spirit in me.
Don't throw me away
Teach me Your ways.
Let me love my enemies the way that You say.
.
Jesus?
When did I see You cold?
When did I see You hungry?
When did I visit You
In prison?
Did I pass You by on the side of the road?
Was I too busy watching the show?
Let me be
Meek poor in spirit and kind.
Let me be a peacemaker.
Let my message be
Jesus Christ, Him crucified.
Father?
Have You looked at us lately?
I'm sure hoping and hoping,
That You've still got plenty of Grace.
(to Mittens)
Schrödinger’s Cat is where it’s at,
nor live, nor dead, nor purring.
With half a chance she’ll live to prance
the worst may be occurring.
But if I’d look I’d lock her fate.
Dare I disturb her quantum state
when spooky action at-a-distance
could conclude poor cat’s existence?
Somehow unseen I need to see
behind that curious curtain,
where “God plays dice” with cats and mice,
and Heisenberg was uncertain.
Where large meets small, and cause effect,
where fact finds science fiction.
It boggles my small intellect …
Each way I think of to protect
her has some contradiction.
Where simple seeming Maxwell’s Demon,
if programmed to assist …
To no avail, he’s doomed to fail,
he clearly can’t exist.
Where mighty minds have failed before,
what chance have I to best Niels Bohr?
Poor Einstein nearly fried his noggin
when he tried at Copenhagen.
Then at the Solvay Congress, rambling,
suffered cerebellum scrambling.
Where the world’s four known forces and all its best minds,
couldn’t save kitty lest they Unified.
So he tried and he tried, and he tried and he tried,
still we weren’t Unified on the day Einstein died.
Then followed footsteps, Steven Hawking.
Though he didn’t do much walking,
wowed us with his brilliant squawking.
Black holes have “hair?!” Could information,
spared by quantum sublimation,
paired in Grand Unification,
spare this long-hair’s ruination?
Could yet unwritten cosmic laws
apply behind those blurry walls
to spare her furry feline paws?
I can’t remember if I cried
when I read that Steven Hawking died.
Such sadness touched me deep inside,
still, we were not Unified.
So confidence I can’t exude.
The only thing I can conclude:
Alas, I lack ability
to tinker probability.
But I will give you even odds that all our odds are even.
This odd result results because we’ve mixed our rhymes with reason.
So be it odd to play at God … by God there’s a solution!
I have free will and will by God will out her execution.
So, by stroke of this pen I do decree:
This story ended. Happily!
Rubbing elbows on the table Etiquette a ticketed fable in hands of Neanderthal Blowing wind a meander squall rocking the boat don’t knock unless you tried it, squawk All hawking and mighty and the cloth was all tidy The weapon of choice, a spoon Nothing like a vulture, you buffoon My elbow is on the table, you pig while you are at it straighten your wig
theorizes, surmises, realizes, outlandish notions
manifesting jibberish inside frangible egghead,
especially when attempting tip ply words struggling
to describe abstract whims fed
by fancy, groovy, heady indefinable
mind boggling ideas they weigh like a led
zeppelin inside gray matter squeezed
to the max like a sponge dark red
when saturated with near incomprehensible
thought processes that attempt to shed
light on cosmic principles, yet lack
mathematical familiarization wed
did with advanced studies in astrophysics (trace
sing pinball erratic mental reverberations
leaves me stupified about mysteries of space
time continuum, quantum mechanics,
and even how my existence came about
since the presence of human race
whereat random
evolutionary circumstances took place
on planet (un) fit Earth analogous
to skien woven of sateen lace
via some invisible hand weaving
world wide webbed warp and sub woof
fur wrought primordial miracles
ranked (within schema by human primates)
as zen amazingly grace
full promenade,
per multivarious species, now one Janus face
sing self destruction duet hoo
weapons of mass destruction can erase
entire range comprising terresrial biota
unable to escape original weeknd update
with Jane Curtain, and Chevy Chase,
and according to Stephen Hawking the base
sic global web spun via *****Sapiens
will lose role as topdog
ousted from twittering, spotifying reddit queue
over stayed plenti potentiary pinnacle,
oracle outlook netzero for mankind as ace
forced to relinguish role,
sans self anointed supreme beast
(what a beauty this bipedal hominid),
whose surging population didst increased
the process toward total vaporous xfinity zapped –
frankly tubby sub letted and leased
to another organism
not needing tubby policed.