Long Hypothetical Poems

Long Hypothetical Poems. Below are the most popular long Hypothetical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hypothetical poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Refining Experiential Math

The economist's definition of enculturing math:
Counting and discounting cash,
multiplying and dividing tangible goods, 
nutritional seed capital diverse re-investment guilds
to solve problems of hoarding wealth values 
and dissonant greedy monopolistic disvalues.

The bicameral geo-mathematician's integral dilemma:
To get from 0 to 1, (nomial stasis)
one must also get from 0 to 2, (binomial diastasis)
and efficiently back again,
to simultaneously resolve,
to 1 median, septic and dipolar,
with 0 before and 2 implied after,
whether positive,
or double-negative,
or, co-arising nondually,
both LeftYang (+1) and Right reverse (exformative) recessive Yin (-,-)0

In consecutively imaged discontinuous linear sequence
and in naturally continuous equi-valent space/time 
body/mind 4-prime fractal dimensions
of Special Case InFormational Dialectical Systemic Group Dynamics,
(+) v (-)=((+)+(-(-))

Resonant BiCameral Resolutions:
Exchange Vertical-Universal deductive/inductive interdependence,
co-relation,
co-gravity,
co-arising
co-passion
with co-equivalent
Horizontal-BiLateral Left-Right
both +1 decontextualized, discontinuous independence, 
and not (-0)-sum interdependence,
cooperative Yang/Yin ego/ecopolitical co-redeeming resonance.

Reiteratively enthymeming 
cooperatively healthy binomial synergizing 
-(0)-sum WinWin Communication Intent
to extend 4Prime Basic EcoTherapeutic HealthWealth Fractals,
like our oh-so-regenerative DNA,
strings of bilateral polypathic hypostatic theory
dipolar co-arising
Gaian Integral Hypothetical
co-gravitating dualdark ZeroSum 
regenerating prime 4-Base
nurturing/strong reiterating root systems
of regenerating Positive/NotNotNegative
double-binding
self/other perpetuating
ego/ecosystems
echoing convex stems
of bilateral concave dipolar strings

In between
Crown/Root chakra
polyvagal neurosystemic
compassionate/pleasure
mind/body intercommunications,
polymathic/polypathic/polyamorous

Sacred/organic/tao
hypostatic communion.


Aye Writhed With Agony

Aye Writhed With Agony...

Unbeknownst to any
     innocent onlooker, aye
underwent extreme internal
     torture with silent cry
ying whimpers, whence,
     (either left or

     right) post-
     pubescent myopic eye
didst readily espy,
     an aesthetically pleasing female,
     and most likely stunning
     to any other generic guy

and suddenly rendered mute, NO...,
     NOT even daring
     enough to say "hi,"
which close proximity of sizzling
     hot babe wrought me fancying
     myself being whisked away

     (in a one horse
     open sleigh, despite
     the remote possibility livingsocial
in Montgomery County,
Pennsylvania suburban) igloo
     to be frozen

     with fear, petrified lo'
     while terror seized thee Oh No
bliss oblige emotional status quo
of much younger Matthew
Scott Harris head to toe
     induced a deplorable woe

imaging other (prospective
     obscured individuals) probably
considered yours truly
     tubby unstrung mama's yoyo,
and at this present time feline
     less in timid

     dated noticing a sultry,
     leggy, and foxy anatomical
     and physiological arrest
ting, though such hypothetical chest
a coy gal, nonchalantly, innocently


     with non verbal expressed
     charm and demurely
     posing as if intending
     to serve as guest
of honor, nonetheless,
     this brief illusory invest

ment, sans quasi
     voyeuristic poetic, shrug jest
sheen, and imagistic distraction,
     thy sole rhythmical
     motif, since n'er nest
sold with any

     purdy young thang begrudging
     natural animalistic proclivity,
     which absence young adult quest
ting, oh yea
     definitely in apropos now,
yet...that self deprived

     self discovery stage of life,
     that "smarts" me psyche,
     when clumsy teen
     age dating experience,
     a electric kool
     aid acid (litmus) test
until twilight age
     senescence doth wrest.

Phil Ostein Conferred With

Phil Ostein Conferred With...

Oracle of delphi
for meager tithe
as per usual end
of year shibboleth,
and thus this hoop 
fully ville explain,
the substance and pith
viz, where new

years eve hullabaloo,
without relevance comprising search
(boot not captcha) of myth
huckle Harris beast
purported relation of kin and kith,
rumored to inhabit
vicinity of Vermouth Avenue and fifth.

Hence, the follow
wing conjecture made
without axe sing myself why,
nonetheless alluding to some
anonymous kvetcher in the vye

maybe even reef fur
ring to yours
truly, or hypothetical stranger upbye
the outer limits of twilight zone,
unseen, whose extrasensory

divinity cain espy
telescopic ability insightful
able to see tie
knee imperceptible electronic bi
nary nano piercing

bits racing like a fly
ling infinitesimal Karamazov
brother, thru invisible
ethereal mist keen as a tigereye
that seemingly never blinks

despite vision hampered by
hordeolum, more commonly
known as stye
inducing inflammation i.e.
red tender bump

at the edge of well nigh
browbeaten eyelid, hence redeye,
perhaps dissimilar, yet
equally painful as pinkeye,

which conjunctivitis 
preferable well nigh,
then slogging thru gobbledygook
thankfully, this harmless wordsmith
bids thee goodbye.

Premium Member Know Regrets

From ES to ES

Here’s the thing
I don’t really know
What life would be if I declared the truth
I heard you say you were unlovable
Yet I declined to speak
A Delorean moment
An everlasting “if only…”
A coward’s regret
All of that and more
The life I could have had
A haunting presence as I pace my cell
It seems supreme but who can tell?

Here’s the thing
I haven’t got a clue
What makes you tick and gets you feeling good
I idolize your ever little nuance
Pretend I mean as much to you
A hypothetical perfect match
A theoretically blessed union
An ineffably joyous pairing
As only I could conjure up
The wife I could have had
A loving presence as I stumble through the day
Appears so dear but who can say?

Here’s the thing
I’m in the dark
As to the thing that could have made me yours
And now I’m sure you’ve heard the news
I hope at least it took you by surprise
An unspeakable crime
A horrifying action
A man you thought you know
Who used to make you laugh
The life we could have had
A sobering presence but I hope you’re living well
I bet you are but who can tell?
© Evan Sachs  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Alternate Reality

Alternate Reality (MJH 17 April ’18)

Maybe in an alternate universe,
Where good is bad and better’s worse,
I could be you, you could be me,
Together apart, sadly happy.
You’d pursue me, I’d flee from you.
Yes you’d pursue me and I’d flee from you,
‘cause I know that I’d be caught by you.

Perhaps in a wondrous macrocosm,
We’d share everything in common.
You’d finish things I’d start to say,
But we’d laugh about it anyway.
Time would not be our enemy.
No, time would never be our enemy-
I’d be part of you; you’d be part of me.

By chance there is another dimension
Beyond earthly comprehension
Where past, present and future blend;
Time has no beginning nor end.
I’d say “I love you” with laughter.
Yes I would say “I love you” with laughter—
Said so before, will say so after.

In some hypothetical reality,
Beyond conceptuality,
Where nothing is circumstantial--
Matter’s almost insubstantial.
Separate bodies, united minds-
Yes, separate bodies and united minds-
Our souls forever intertwined
Form: Verse


The Architecture of Restraint

He exaggerates excessively.

Not loudly—
not in spirals anyone can are able to see—
but in quiet, meticulous constructions
behind the sternum.

He studies tone like scripture.
Pauses like prophecies.
The slight delay before a reply
becomes a thesis
He did not ask to write.

He is fluent
in hypothetical disasters.

What if that sounded wrong?
What if that joke was excessive?
What if honesty
is heavier than intimacy can hold?

He drafts confessions
in the privacy of his mind
and delets them
before they are even spoken.

Because He knows—
too much gravity
can collapse a star.

And He is terrified 
of becoming
too much.

Too intense.
Too reflective.
Too emotionally articulate.
Too aware.

He fears that depth,
when poured without caution,
floods instead of nourishes.

So He measures himself.

He trims paragraphs into sentences.
Sentences into fragments.
Fragments into silence.

He withholds questions
that burn at the edge of his tongue—
not because He lacks trust,
but because He fears
interrogation that may feel like accusation.

He thought of to say,
“I overthink too much because I care, and I am afraid that I know to myself that I am replaceable.”

But care.
in excess,
can feel like surveillance.

He felt too much.
He wantd help.
He seek for assurance and updates
to stop this mind from overflowing.

But reassurance,
when requested too often,
can resemble insecurity.

And insecurity—
He believes—
is the first crack
in any architecture of affection.

So he chooses restraint.
Barely breathing,
seeking for assurance,
that he could never ask for,
because—
its too much.

He swallows the urge
to clarify every nuance.
He resists the instinct
to solve problems
that have not yet materialized.

He tells himself:
Not everything requires excavation.
Not every silence is a threat.
Not every pause is departure.
© Jed Vidal  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Rumor Has It

1.
Rumor has it on heavens above
Among the angels’ divine sphere
That God after very much though  
Decided in man’s life to interfere     

2.
For He has observed Man’s mistakes 
Which lately too many came to be
To endanger the whole of creation 
Act with which God can never agree

3.
So the Lord has most recently chosen  
The book of life before long to reprint 
Revising certain of its very old chapters 
While others out will leave, He has hint  

4.
The concern of humans is now to know      
Which chapters the book will not contain, 
Which are going to be, somehow, revised 
And which intact will forever remain 

5.
What was heard through the vine though,   
It was Man’s huge and unbearable vanity 
That made our almighty Lord and creator 
To finally exclude the chapter of humanity  

6.
The reason our God in His infinitive wisdom
Reached such unexpected for Mankind conclusion 
Is the fact that Man during his reign on earth
Has hurt our planet with his insensitive intrusion

7.
It might still be time for Man overall to be saved    
If he started correcting his many mistakes soon
Beginning by respecting life and the whole planet  
And stop behaving as a dim-witted buffoon.  


© Demetrios Trifiatis
   17 APRIL 2014


* According to UN’s most recent report (March 2014) “We  are in an era where 
climate change isn’t some kind of future hypothetical,” said Chris Field, one of 
the  two main authors of the report, and Rajendra Pachari chair of the IPCC 
(Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) added: “Nobody on this planet 
is going to be untouched by climate change.” For that UN suggested measures 
to be taken immediately for to save the planet.
 Moreover, the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences ( PNAS), 
announced that  " Researchers have found out that pollutants are strengthening storms ...plus endanger the health of people."
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Gun Control, It Doesn'T Work

The following is a hypothetical situation;
Absolute government gun control now sweeps the nation.
We are at our harshest with regards to gun control legislation.
No firearm can be possessed or owned by any private citizen
without the harshest of penalties being imposed upon them,..
..but then inevitably another massacre happens,
taking innocent young lives, many of them children.
Such occurrences continue to happen again and again.
Our harshest of gun control laws accomplished absolutely nothing,
aside from denying every single responsible private citizen
their right to keep and bare arms either for collection or protection.
As long as guns are used in law enforcement and the military
there will always be an underground gun trafficking industry
and the senseless massacres of innocents will continue to be,
possibly even more frequently.
Many say that guns have no place in a civilized society,
and on that subject I too tend to agree,
but until we attain that Utopian civilized society,
whereupon all weapons and all guns are all history,
guns and gun tragedies are here to stay and will continue to be.
Form: Rhyme

Surrender Into Obliviousness Level Deux

on path to autonomy, she matured of late,
exhibiting autism during childhood
compliments of intervention, mastered
vanquished every trace to acclimate
self reliance no matter said spate
of developmental delay,
cramped, crimped, and

crumpled cognitive literate
chores abilities, yet
supportive services did alleviate
ordinary setback, now indiscretions,
liaisons, and transgressions, I implicate,
some half dozen years 

gone by, this husband
flaunted philandering, but woefully great
lee mistaken, yours truly did underestimate,
how sacrilegious cupidity, depravity, infidelity...
induced the missus never to exonerate
mine suddenly kismet forced belate

reflex, thus I futilely berate
then indecorous behavior
more so impacted eldest daughter,
first born offspring subsequently
angrily bore secret travails adulterate
ting spoiling her high school years,

viz compounded by egregious desire
for das dada to satiate
squelched sexual hunger
marriage without intercourse did frustrate
synonymous, when I hapt tubby celibate
bachelor, hence “FAKE”
Casanova did forever alienate

whose affect my
(hypothetical) untimely death
might be borne with
greater aplomb to accommodate
absence of this papa,
a generally conscientious fellow,
mental health askew since birth predicate
always hated grueling fiendish existence!

Balzac and Robespierre

Balzac is beading,
Robespierre is reading,
Introversion I am needing,
Reflections I am heeding,
In old bat cave central,
Like an ancient Sybil, hypothetical,
Wisdom is supposed to come with age,
As Balzac turns his own page,
Why am I more religious than the Pope?
Can any faith give Earthlings hope?
Better than folk smoking dope!
If you have problems embarrassing,
Bring them here for my listening,
Sage advice I am providing,
Reflections  I am heeding,
Yes, boys, beer understands,
How did dinosaurs make it in Pleistocene lands?
Answer: They didn't, for beer, no hands,
Yes, reflections I am heeding,
Humans are minute cosmic specks, spinning,
on a pebble in Outer Space, clinging,
If gravity didn't suck, we'd all be floating,
Reflections I am heeding,
As Robespierre shall keep reading,
Then Balzac shall be beading.......

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