Long Impassive Poems
Long Impassive Poems. Below are the most popular long Impassive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Impassive poems by poem length and keyword.
You are like my mesmerizing lullaby
You soothe my body…warming me like blankets
You make me die all the time when you prepare to fly
You are making me daydream without ruthless regrets
Your powers are amazing! You can even teach me to fight
With Your thundering might,
You melt away my impassive heart…
Like a candle, scorching with fright
You are like the merry midnight sky
But our merriness broke loose when you waved bye-bye to our friendship
You make me cry in high spirits time and time again…when I receive your reply!
You are inspiring me to take wing like an eagle, but I lost my grip
My emotions are roaming freely…someday I’ll reach to heaven’s height
With your mind-blowing sight,
You shun out the anxiety brewing in my tender heart
Like a dandy candle…a wish that won’t depart
On Mother's Day.
That Sabbath Day, I put flame to eight candles and knelt down to pray.
I humble myself with fasting to intensify my communication with God who is our all and all.
During that spiritual and very significant time of the morning, I gave our powerful Heavenly Father a call.
So much of the misery of life is in me and I have the weight of my daughter's physical and mental health tormenting my mind.
On that golden day, I was filled with the confidence that God will put someone in our path at the right time.
God is the lamp in my darkness.
God is my consoler during my torment and the booster of calmness.
Previously we were in a meltdown dealing with many healthcare providers with high costs and impassive procedures.
They were unimpressive, obtuse, and unrefined sloths to work at their own leisure.
It was in God's measurement of existence and his most magnificent grace that he sent a radiant helianthus.
It was a transcendental rush.
She entered our home with a wide smile and a sanguine temperament.
She had a stalwart faith in getting things started right away with plans and proficient decisions that she wanted to implement.
Her objective was to provide my daughter with the best comprehensive and viable care plan.
She restored our faith and we became a fan.
She was full of wisdom, yet she was a proponent of sensibility.
She was polished by the grace of God with compassion and empathy.
Like the nature of a helianthus, she would never fold because God is her sun and shield.
In her mien, it is greatly revealed.
When her task is done and it is time for her to say goodbye.
We will miss her, but we will give her a brave smile and sigh.
I will thank our Heavenly Father as I looked to the sky.
If someone would ask, how was she as a provider, we are truly in need, so please tell us.
I will simply say, she is not a weed, but a blessed and beautiful helianthus.
Purposeful thought leaders, empowering intellect they reign,
In disposition phlegmatic, indifferent to pleasure or pain,
Rejecting emotions vain, impassive within taciturn domain,
Questing for mindful contentment, virtues of reason ordain.
Missives tolling of rectitude, emanate from heart and mind,
Guiding sanctity of awareness, wisdom virtuous aligned,
Maximizing positive thoughts, amplifying tendencies kind,
Of knowledge and understanding, spirits tranquil designed.
Freeing from distress, achieving balance in purity sublime,
Reverberating in noble song of life, echoing through time,
Strumming happiness, where refrain of reason is prime,
Where goodwill of speech, and actions benevolent rhyme.
Enlightened people find harmony in realms of self-control
Overcoming disturbances that in silhouettes of past troll,
Vying aspirations of tomorrow, enamored in sanctity of soul,
Consciously shedding negativity, passions imprudent extol.
Volatility of perturbed life calms, embracing thoughts divine,
As sapient ways of erudite mind, on arc of cognition shine,
Triumphing over negative vibes as dissonant distractions decline
When goals of reason and acts of virtue inextricably entwine.
I like you careless
Never bothering to think “what if”
Never bothering to give a damn about the people
Never upsetting yourself over the tiring thoughts of them
I like you blunt
And cold to those who try to aim fires at you
And the only visible emotion is indifference
Hard to touch
And seemingly so very unmoved
But most of all
After months of patience
Days of holding up with all the indifference
I like it when I burn through those icy impassive walls of yours
I like it when I make you feel a little fiery
And you can learn to love it when you burn
You can see it through my eyes
And whenever you are vulnerable
Depressed and homesick
I see how little things matter to you
And my heart softens a little more for you
And you become everything I need to fix
It's already hard enough to say anything accurately
without further obfuscating and camouflaging the soul.
The faces in the funeral pews are impassive, impatient
and the dead woman cares not what's said, isn't even present.
The poet gets innumerable do-overs, it's one of man's wonders,
revises his vision of his mother and plays her piano, posthumously.
Why not say it simply? Hers was a comity and a tragedy.
As are ours. And perform the history that surrounds us.
Are caskets boats? The ship of death rides Charon's waves
or perhaps on that solitary day you happily kayak to the huckleberries.
Is the deeper sadness incomplete achievement or never to have tried?
Any attempt to decide this question for others is to badly behave.
The pablum of Christianity, esp. the Catholics, re the after life
must be rejected. It's necessary. To be replaced by community,
perfection of the human project, nature's intelligent partner.
Dusty, sadly habitable houses along the funeral route, shapeless
people crossing themselves when ambulances or hearses pass.
I wanted to describe the sweetness of her life, how she was part
of the problem and part of the solution. How love and evolution
are passed like loaves from person to person down the generations.
Find the humor in the cholera. When my father died
he waved like a surfer riding a wave or a clown riding
an elephant out the circus tent. Mom follows the same law.
The many ways a spear can pierce a brave warrior's jawbone or armor.
We get so caught up in right and wrong, discussing it is this that will benefit us and that that will harm us, we get so caught up and tired and so very thoughtful on things that don’t even matter as much, we have to learn to deal with circumstances of our wrong or right behavior, cause fussing over it won’t end it or alter it.
And be brave enough to accept it and conceive the will to change what does not fit you perfectly, we are perfectionists in our own eyes, we distress over the smallest of imperfections and please on the even smaller of perfections
We are simple yet we yearn to complicate that simplicity and change it into something that makes us get along less, we love with our fullest and dream of the many happy days to come yet we know they will never, we are optimists to tragedy and pessimists to hope, we want and want and never stop wanting, we give our all and except our all to be given back to us, but it doesn’t, and we are left with missing pieces that were given by us so we lose ourselves and forget how hard we built them and how many and how much we’ve been through, we go through heaven and would think heaven is to always stay heaven but this world aint perfect in our eyes and something is always missing, someone is always discontent with this heaven we long for so we lose it and lose all those dreamy castles on the clouds for thoughts that demolished them .
And then comes the ache of those beautiful heavenly memories on those clouds with those hearts that were so light, and that light goes off and we are left with this darkness we try to escape, but we see no way out, we look and look for any illusion of that slight precious light and yet we fail although we glimpse it sometimes, live it for a few moments sometimes only to robbed the next morning where wed want it to shine so brightly and so it goes and so we live, blinded but alive, ceasing to look for any more light
And so it comes, engulfing us all, with impassive pitchy shadows, we are lost, we are lightless, we are indifferent to all that comes, we have reached hell.
Once I felt the patent feeling acutely too,
A spark within, a flame anew,
Wouldn't deter the impetus will that took me in,
A journey's start, with heart and kin.
Once I was in love in those times of yore,
When passion's fire burned bright and more,
But my portrayal of love has since changed,
A new perspective, rearranged.
So I never been in love, they say,
Though sagely settling I been in love's way,
But yet again in all honesty reconsidering I never been,
For love's a mystery, forever unseen.
Though I felt the warmth of a summer's abided fever,
A gentle touch, a tender whisper, a sweet surrender,
I also felt the best cold of impassive winters swelling wide,
A chill that ran deep, a heart that would not divide.
I seen much of white and many of black,
A kaleidoscope of love's intricate track,
I seen more sorts of love all invented, weaved into form,
A tapestry rich, a story to be sworn.
But I wander still, in love's uncertain way,
For though I've known love's fleeting thrill,
I've also known its bitter pill.
Yet still I search, through love's uncertain night,
For that elusive spark, that guiding light,
That leads me through, the labyrinthine heart,
To find the love that sets us apart.
And when I find it, I'll know it's true,
For love's a journey, not a destination anew,
It's the sum of moments, lived and shared,
The love we make, the love we've dared.
But till then, I'll roam, in love's uncertain land,
With heart aflame, and hand in hand,
For love's a mystery, forever to be told,
A story woven, of threads of gold.
Form:
The very attractions the eyes perceive...
are probably those impassive inclinations we pursue;
extravagant possessions
and unnecessary cravings:
disquiet our very short existence
and disintegrate our modest values!
I delight in my blessed modesty,
the Omnipotent Lord,through His truthful Word,
teaches me rewarding honesty;
my worst obsession was
and still is to preserve it
in a derisive world!
Life doesn't have an eternity here...
and why should I be dominated by fear?...
When I am too spiritually fulfilled
to revere superflous things,
because my necessities of life
shouldn't be greater than others'!
I delight in my blessed modesty,
and as Jesus did, I praise it highly...
to stir Satan's anger toward me:
how clever can He Be?...
Can a vague and sinful life be lived to its extremity?
Past psychological development
describes zigzagging mama's yoyo
casually, aye publicize, (asper
mein kampf) personal woe
unpleasant memories indelibly
etched, jagged, scar outlined like ticktacktoe
solitary games invariable resultant
draw between every “x” and each "o"
metaphorical of course for this poetic,
formerly non opportunistic
generic Joe Schmoe,
hoof hound cathartic airing emotionally
rocky terrain, whereby floe
tips of icebergs with poetry I tool
examining, excavating, extracting, et cetera hoe
ping to discover ring visa vis,
why this ordinary fella did not want to grow
up, when on the throes of puberty lugging
"FAKE" nostalgic memories in tow
markedly heavy impossible to shrug
Atlas off (as if yoked with an albatross) also
weighted with Taj Mahal size fountainhead
gushing with emotional phlegm like no
buddies business shockingly deadly toxic
sputum nearly killed me, the only bro
their too hoo (owl right) untwisted sisters
one older, the other younger dough
ting on this then suicidal, impassive, and
ambivalent depressively sullen self burrow
wing boy within my own wormhole unresponsive
to overtures of sincere love - self castrated
particularly social maturation grew
ming this present day subdued chap
still smarting from ravages of anorexia
nervosa, particularly wrought hardy brew
of schizoid personality disorder self
deprivation excruciating frame of mind
as I mercilessly flayed and never grew
to experience ordinary relationships,
hence though married with grown daughters,
nonetheless...pay penance forever rue
man hating price hermetically
sealed wharf from humans,... thus you
cannot reach me, - now adieu!
I have the biggest and the best, it flies the highest in the world
I have the rope anchored by concrete and round a spindle it’s curled.
I let go the brake it shoots high up in the sky
I want to take hold; but I don’t want to fly.
My kite is a dragon with wings that are so wide
It’s big enough to sit on and perhaps have a glide
I want it too fly so high in the air
People will see my dragon from almost anywhere.
It soars, it roars there’s a flame from its mouth
It dives and it swirls North, West and South.
The rope is pulling and stretching out the full length nearly
Maybe it’s too high, cos I can’t see it clearly.
I hit the brake hard, smoke now starts to rise from it
The dragon halts high ,its tail like a comet
It bolts, it bucks, it fights with the brake and the wind
I try to wind it in but I can’t move the damn thing.
It's alive I can feel it as it roars in the heavens
I fight and I then I see the Boeing Seven-Four-Seven
It swerves it turns, the vapour trail is quite massive
It rises and falls and I stand there impassive.
The reports on the news the very next day
A Boeing- Seven- Four- Seven had to change its way
The captain’s in hospital with a reported break down
The reporter says “He swerved for a dragon,” his face held a frown.
The co-pilot won’t say what happened that day
He is now on vacation; a very long one they say.
My dragon it escaped from my rope that was thick
There are reports of it flying, has anyone seen it?
I cannot dedicate this to one poet that has helped or inspired me on this poetic journey because there is more than one. Each in their own individual way has given me something to use, learn and grow from so it is dedicated to all that have commented on my ditties.