Long Imposes Poems
Long Imposes Poems. Below are the most popular long Imposes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Imposes poems by poem length and keyword.
The clad ivy charms, warms the walls,
The frontage that welcomes the fold and their outsiders,
Specifying age and strength of delicate beauty,
Which accounts for that non-existent love:
History sides with them, is by their shoes,
Shows no retrogressive signs or playbacks,
For the aestheticism in which they pray and hear,
To live purely and submit to god’s will.
Massive old stones consummate the building,
Mark the sentinels of theology and doctrine,
The concept of god masoned out unchangeable,
Resistant to space and time:
Indestructible by humankind,
Unbreakable and long-lasting,
Toughened by independent and culinary monks,
Near to their hearts quandaries, contemplations;
Their pontifications ring true, bold and sold,
As the solid building structure imposes itself on nature’s garden.
Freelance lawns embrace the abbey,
Set the monks with their own position,
To roam, regenerate, prune and prime,
Sing within the vastness betrothed.
Still they go on in routine and consecration,
Chants, strings and accords of beauty,
Unwilling to journey out with themselves,
Steadfast by blinkers on life’s dynamics and rhyme.
Does god exist here as effectual,
Or is it not just the building and its surroundings?
Setting the seal on their mind thoughts,
Enabling that peace of mind,
Exemplary of that security:
That supreme veto of homelessness and weathering,
Absolute with promise of brotherly abode,
Proficient in giving freedom to make living and home,
As the construction would never make your life for you,
Against your free will, your right and personal pride,
Always proffering your dexterous gestures and movements.
What wells up inside
Down the dark hole coins are tossed for luck
Barriers, born on fear are near at hand
Islanders surface from the past for gambling
Dice people from Taiwan markets dig deep
Mystic water lay five hundred feet below
From here that would make it closer to New York
Under pools dark path
Below, most deep and damp
Moisture lays behind well walls
There are no floors about the water barrier
So players must throw twice
No where near here or where they need to be
13 is the only number rolled 13 times
Which makes them times themselves
Solids form an interior circle of wet cement
From magic forces causing concrete blocks
Without the help of people gathering to stop
Who could stop a concrete block
To the evil power that remains in love with pain
Imposing on the child to fall down the open well
Water understands nothing, has no name, feels cold
Drinks in the love of God, remains inside the quiet
Flourishes with raw power deep in the nether world
When not being poisoned
Evil imposes on the child to draw near the shiny coin
That name is mystic water one and the same still on
Witty Cupid makes flowery bow
also, sharp aromatic arrow,
always ready to throw
on lovers who don’t make haste.
Being introvert, they hesitate,
Feeling shy, they can’t taste
romance of love at best.
Cupid brings the solution.
He imposes emotion,
blowing breeze of passion.
Zealous in his mission.
None, but cute Cupid.
He acts prompt and rapid,
keeps weather clear, nor humid,
very clever not at all stupid,
sending Love-Glance as invoice.
Couple to dance and rejoice.
Giggling in cheerful voice,
flow of kisses, only choice.
Witty Cupid makes flowery bow.
12/12/17
A Political Opinion
By:Tom
1-11-2019
It doesn't have to be true, things Politicians proclaim,
As long as they stay in power, It's a political game.
They can promise, use innuendo and outright lie,
Painting competition evil and themselves a good guy.
a new political norm is causing a thumb of noses,
Eliminating the filibuster or curtail what it imposes.
They think voters are as stupid as a pen full of shoats,
They effortlessly lie and filibuster to stave off votes.
Ephesians 4:25,
the apostle Paul commanded us, “Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbour.
“One’s Journey on Earth is sacred. Not to be handed to any drug, including low frequency love. Ego, a temporary illusion needs an illusion, need itself is an illusionary arising, like any drug.” Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~
soul needs no drug, remaining pure in stability
unbounded in unconditional love
FEAR rises its hydra head flavouring
itself with euphoria, craving followed by
withdrawal then relapse ~
Love hijacked in purity becomes
diluted, polluted, contaminated
an enchanting play of neurotransmitters
depressing, stimulating, synergising or
antagonising ~ all food for cognising
low level love aligns with drugs
addictive chemicals arise in brain as thugs
escaping pain, suffering not for soul gain
low level love experienced as moving
sensations nothing but preconceptions
ego sabotages Love in octaves low
drinks it brave like liquor craves
taste so intoxicating becomes addiction
elating, escaping from objective reality
one sees only density pulsating
love is drug when personality cannot
act independently from object of love
becoming tame dove - hesitant, petulant or penitent
when love is defined by rules or regulations
it sails like a hidden battleship, unseen whips
no free will equals damnation
low level love like any other drug curtails
freedom of decision making
often of movement becoming nail to jail
presents as safety net, y’all bet
imposes itself on Being of another
a drugged attunement, insipid inducement
love is drug when service is obligated
when connection not mutually beneficent
incompleteness rise in absence of other
resonating artificial, superficial
love is drug when other becomes reference point for action, evolution or satisfaction
dependency darkens energy of object and subject underlined by need to feel safe
this equals no faith
as L O V E ascends its octaves into
independent
S O V E R E I N T Y
it stands in courage serenity trust
no need for low level love
concoctive as a humbug drug
_________
Placed 10th : Premier Contest
Sponsor : Rob Carmack
Unswerving in your sincere actions,
stating the main purpose of intentions;
no venom is excreted from enlarged veins
without the fear of horrific moments!
Be grateful for the ample kindness shown,
never a trace of bitter sentiment or a frown;
eyes tear when crossing over the deep abyss
with the hesitation to discover its darkness!
Woeful are the darkest secrets kept to oneself,
when they're confessed they can be a relief;
pluck roses from their stems without bleeding:
thorns were Christ's crown proclaiming Him king!
Persistence is such a fortitude stronger than gold,
give someone a stone instead of sweet bread:
he will speedily fling it back and seek revenge;
treat everybody fairly and nobody will ever cringe!
Be infallible in your ultimate quest for beneficial change,
remain loyal to your peers, avoid conflict and treason;
if unfair judgment is implemented, let God be the judge:
sequels end when the pile of lies crumbles in soggy rain!
Faith binds spirit and heart to pursue holiness,
be a deviant and bear the direst consequences;
religion imposes punishment, society never does:
does freedom mean to do whatever one pleases?
. for public domain
We throw our hearts away
in the full fury of anger,
of greed,
of grief,
in the full surrender
to the resplendant glory of the highest God,
in Ajuna's thousand suns,
in deepest sleep
in drunkeness,
with strong drugs,
all from which a heart may return.
We throw our hearts away
by not caring anymore
which is the worst,
for when the heart returns,
it finds no receptical
and departs leaving behind only a whisper of dust.
For the heart never dies.
Immortal it forever seeks
a will to live
a will that lives
through the worst that life imposes.
It clings to whoever or whatever
will endure its failings.
Silenus may have been right.
He lived, if for nothing else,
to throw at life his spite
of being thrown into it.
for life was not a blessing,
only a curse. which is something,
I suppose, to get us through the worst of it
where praises and hymns fail.
So curse life to the end,
if for nothing else,
as a witness who testifies
that the heart deserves better.
Albeit cold shower with sudden zoo
ming onset of
brisk fallen temperatures
may not be amenable to you
dear reader, but after Matthew
sets to washing
creating substantial lather,
visited with healthy slew
of frothed shampooed hair do
(cuz - jest like
Spongebobsquarepants,
I like abundant suds),
which initial shock
of cold water jolts mine
body inducing "Whew"
to escape soaped over mouth
(here, lemme lean in
so yukon get a whiff)
this self proscribed
quasi (very diluted off the
Peco boo grid) deprivation
of hot H2O tolerance,
qua minimal self
elected survivalist
modus operandi value
bull electric kool aid acid test
undertaken in the
event devastating adversity
(mainly an electricity
power outage) doth render
livingsocial uncomfortably
cold to the bone and sinew,
where mind over matter decides
riches superfluous,
especially if parvenu,
when scads of back up
generators conk out
total unbelievable wreckage,
sans the overnight
natural germane Blitzkrieg
imposes savage apocalyptic
devastating hellacious milieu
(on account of a mega disaster
such as hurricane Michael), who
doth not indiscriminate
toward gentile or Jew
obliterating entire infra
structure super glue
equalizing economic disparity hew
wing fair playing field reducing
whether disposable wealth harkens
from "old" money, and/or nouveau
riche, this sudden
catastrophic event brew
till lee decrees indeterminate
penury, and trappings
of theoretical leisure class
bon voyage every stitch of cloth,
and other material goods
forcibly bade i.e. adieu.
Silence loud enough
To burst my ear drums
With a soprano voice
That clears my senses
Of all its rubbish
~
All I can truly think of
Is the people who once
Sat around my living room
Talking, chattering, on and on
About nothing important
~
Laughter seems so long ago
That it awakens my memories
To the hilarity of it all
The humor that imposes on my
Heart’s attention to happiness
~
Wherever I go, whichever room
In the house where I live
There are hues of deep moments
Spent sharing my life with them
My family, long gone now
~
I stare at the pages of a book
And welcome the midnight hour
When I leave the living room
To enter the bedroom, lie down
And wonder where the time has gone
~
Night sounds whisper to me
Owls ho-ho-ho across the yard
A cat’s screech in the barn
Howls from the hills at a moon
Not so alone – after all, it has the stars
Appointment to have organ removed by robot-assisted surgeon.
Air-conditioned, no mosquitoes in the OR. When you arrive
You'll remove all your clothes. Naked before the ladies, nurses
Who have seen it all before. Mainly remember you're not unique.
Think about the government while they're mixing up the medicine.
There's always governance even if there's little or no government.
Back to counting backwards. Inside out, if I die, will I know it?
At 70, Jack's running the gauntlet with some skill!
Benny Golson wonders aloud what might have been
Had Clifford Brown not been killed in that auto accident.
Jack's girlfriend once said he was the reincarnation of Clifford
But he doesn't believe in ghosts, karma or an afterlife.
Benny's old girlfriend Betty inspired the tune Along Came Betty
And that's the most afterlife Benny or Betty's gonna get.
The Trojan bench being not as deep as the Greek
Once Sarpedon and Hector go down even the lucky shot
To Achilles' feet is not enough to save the town.
Aeneas is no match for wily Odysseus
Although unbeknownst to all he has the last laugh when Rome
Conquers Athens, the Myrmidons, what's left of Ilion
And the whole known world from India to Britain.
It's not bad to acknowledge death's primacy
Although after a while you stop remembering
To fear. That's when everything becomes clear
Purpose v. purposelessness matters less,
Anomie v. rule of law, that's a preference
Love v. loneliness, worth about 25 cents
Or a million bucks in the light of the holocaust.
Nothing but light, love and the majesty of death in the room.
Machines stand ready like marines, their beauty is in the motion
That overcomes inertia. The food supply is deeply compromised
So eat whatever you want. Mourning the dead is part of the business
Of healing and staying alive. When you get to the afterlife, walk with eyes
open,
Ocotillo and cactus may be in flower. The robot does the work, imposes
Its own small order, like a girl on a bicycle with disorder in her hair.