Long Imposition Poems

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


Premium Member Wind Song

“Wind Song”




When the rain came it raised a torrent
music, little by little, raised the levy
light pebbles rolled over one by one
took with them 
all their 
flotsam and jetsam
leaves ferrying Black Ravens carried on

Brook babbling
listened to the birds scrabbling
singing -
“I am the one!" 
"I am the one!”
Fed them bread and thanksgiving
Fat and feathered their over fed pride sung

Red Robin turned with the Wind,
flew red currents away from the Aviary in full swing

Spreading wings, riding on their Wind Song 
She sings She sings

(Lovejoy-Burton, August 2018)


"Home is where your story begins."- Unknown






1. Levy

impose (a tax, fee, or fine).
"a tax of two per cent was levied on all cargoes"
synonyms:	impose, charge, exact, demand, raise, collect, gather; More

archaic
enlist (someone) for military service.
"he sought to levy one man from each vill for service"
noun

an act of levying a tax, fee, or fine.
"police forces receive 49 per cent of their funding via a levy on the rates"
synonyms:	tax, tariff, toll, excise, duty, fee, imposition, impost, exaction, assessment, tithe, payment; More

historical
an act of enlisting troops.
"Edward I and Edward II had made substantial use of the feudal levy for raising an army"


2. Levee

an embankment built to prevent the overflow of a river.
a ridge of sediment deposited naturally alongside a river by overflowing water.

a landing place; a quay.


Premium Member To My Seductress Duchess

These, cacophony that beggars descriptions

Disorder from indecent breed incubating, 

Confusion of morals, the imposition of strange culture, 

Filthily dressed to undress my mind, 

Our teacher teaching theories of writs and wits

These promiscuous pastors parading piety with nudity

Lewd licentious and libidinous species luring laurels with drama, 

These traditional priests tutoring the innocent as the skilled orthodox guru

Folly forming and fuming fire on the podium of cerebral

These gangs of immoral breeds hovering over men with enthusiasm

The sick physician administering drugs on the ignorant, 

These, 

A coup against Coleridge, 

Wired Wordsworth, 

Barron as Blakes

Shapeless Shakespeare, 

With excessive deluxe paint like a red zone hawker, 

These fashions clogging the pump of poetic flow

With the garbs of a seductress

Allays my feet to the "gutter-most" pit of whores

These, who feigned folly as fashion forcing Mr Flesh, to a quickie,

Teach me the lyric and lines and morals too

Inspire my curious heart in poetry and NOT the contours of shapeless show

Evoke in me a desire and arouse my intellect and NOT to lust

Induce me with scintillating lyrics and NOT to the nightmare and dreams of a succubus 

Tempt my heart to scholastic loyalty and NOT to the apple of Eden

Conjure the parley of mutated minds with words

Come again to the conference in art and rags of skilled minds

I adjure you, be Natural
Form: Quintilla

Desperate Message Never Sent To Kim Jong Un

Oh please for the sake (and sock e) 
of brethren deemed friendly, i be
see-ch ye with genuine humility 
to desist launching nuclear missiles. 
This American bloke put his lock, 
stock and barrel of gunmetal faith 
in mister Dennis Rodman to serve 
as a figurative lightning rod against 
any aggressive actions that would 
set in motion the end of civilization. 
Not only would the majority of homo 
sapiens (yes, some clusters of earth-
linked yahoos might still remain a 
live) suffer a nasty, short and brutish 
death, but also other flora and fauna 
could be equally annihilated. Under
stand able, those grievances against 
sanctions against the populace of north 
Koreans (who most likely experience 
unfair hardship) fuels resentment against 
the hegemony of western powers. Many 
of these societies authoritatively bran
dish their devout pledge for concurrence 
with democratic principles. Any endemic 
protestations declaiming objection to 
the American way affect an immediate 
alarm. Imposition of so called "puppet" 
regimes get forcibly installed those 
countries leaders who run counter to 
capitalistic productivity. This one anon
a muss citizen of those fifty states also 
takes umbrage how might of american 
to predominate and demand that other 
nations follow suit solely based on what 
agrees with those like minded in power 
sans the brotherhood/sisterhood of vast 
swaths of the global population. No 
great expectations (by dickens) to affect 
passionate sentiments per those pea
poles somewhat hermetically sealed 
off and separated (viz - by the demilitarized 
zone) from the billions of other human 
beings. Thy sole missive from one older 
mwm dreads locked linkedin catastrophic 
chain reaction of events once atomic war
fare triggered by the disgruntlement over 
some differences in outlook could possibly 
resolved via "active listening" and access 
to exchange a word of reconciliation. As 
one flawed chap prone to his own bouts 
of anger, he attests that more positive plea
sing results can prevails with the treat of 
world war three diffused in a manner that 
plays less havoc once unleashing of weapons 
of mass destruction occurs!
Form:

Premium Member American Revolution Reaffirmed

Our Revolution sought limitations
On imposition of regulations,
But supplications met deprecation
And castigations not reformation.

Such condescension sparked protestation
And contemplation of separation;
This supposition stirred apprehension -
A premonition of confrontation.

But, declamations and remonstrations
Spurred agitation toward Declaration,
While provocations and deprivations
Steeled resolution for liberation.

War's prosecution, through execution,
Forged dedication for recognition;
Its culmination brought dissolution
And vindication for aspirations.

While extrication brought satisfaction
States' acclamations lacked definition.
This Federation showed imperfections;
Low validation forced redirection.

Deft composition penned Constitution;
Strong propositions scored affirmation.
Hence, generations find inspiration
And preservation their obligation.

       -------------------------

Tell all the people yet to come
Democracy is what we chose;
Their mission's goal: protect it from
All foreign and domestic foes.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member In the deep silence of my thoughts, where ideas float like leaves on a silver lake

In the deep silence of my thoughts, where ideas float like leaves on a silver lake,
I feel my political opinions dancing on the edge of a dream of anarchy,
Not the anarchy of men with bombs and faces hidden in shadows, but that pure freedom,
Where control melts like snow under the spring sun, a place without chains and commands.
I wonder, in this stream of consciousness that flows like an endless river,
Why man dares to be master over other men, an unnatural mission,
For there is no job more unsuitable than to lead, to dictate,
And not one in a million has the grace for it, and even fewer those who ardently seek power.
I see how the desire for control rises like a storm over the fragile plains of the soul,
And how those who crave golden thrones are often the least suited to occupy them,
For true power is not measured in commands, but in the silent understanding of freedom,
In that anarchy of the heart where each finds their path without treading on the steps of others.
In this imagined world, where control vanishes like smoke in the clear morning,
People find their place not through imposition, but through the natural communion of spirits,
A symphony of souls singing together without a conductor, in cosmic harmony,
Where no one is master over another, but each is master of themselves, in a dance of freedom.
And perhaps one day, when the chains of control crumble under the weight of their own futility,
We will see how the world transforms into a realm of limitless possibilities,
Where each step is guided not by force, but by the inner desire to explore the infinite,
And then, in that blessed anarchy, we will discover our true nature.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Dr Fauci

(“Contagion III”, 2020, original pen and ink and oil)

Dr Fauci

In the infallible world of cause and effect
Every action has its reaction
And to every sane person
Beyond the age of about ten
This is simply a given.

What is less clear is when, how and where
These reactions will manifest.
So as time passes and nothing seems to happen
Those responsible, and those effected
Begin to wonder if they ever will.

Enter stage Left, Dr Fauci, 
The best thing since sliced bread and mastermind 
Of not only gain of function research
But also the official reaction and imposition
To the result of this research gone wrong.

Will Fauci ever face the consequence 
Of the hundreds of millions killed by his virus,
And even greater numbers killed by the vax?
Not likely in this life, but surely Hell awaits, 
Ever patient, ever present, at the very bottom.

(8/23/25)
Form: Narrative

Same Fight Everywhere

Same fight everywhere
Everyone want to be 
Free from something
Our freedom differs
Yet could be connected
To one root
That root that promised
Us the sources
We hope it the provider
Of all we deserve
It sad how deeply 
It just but an illusion
Of just an ordinary 
Control 

Same fight everywhere
Everyone freedom differs
Yet it source speaks same 
Root 
The root that brings freedom
The root we thinks 
Could be our redemption
The root we was thought of 
And that is sad 
Cos we never find it out 
Our self
So I wonder how another
Mans imposition could 
Makes you a total free person

Same fight everywhere
Some fight for freedom Is
Brutal
Some look okay but it pains
Equals brutality
Some looks calm
But more destructive in heart
Our fight everywhere are 
Same 
As long as you need be free
Freedom is freedom
Is either you have it 
Or you live to get one cos it
Same fight everywhere
Form: Epic

DIALOGUE WITH ONESELF

Neither academic, nor preacher, nor politician, nor judge,
But a writer, with a fetish for the act of creation —
Not to broadcast my thoughts, or to synthesize critiques for others,
But for the vanity of publication, the fleeting pride of being known.

As I set the first word down, the tumult in my mind,
Mirrors that of a crusader, a terrorist, or the rioter with his cleaver—
Yet, I do not wish to add to the endless glut of images,
That leave readers satisfied only with how bad they feel,
Lost in the shadow of things they cannot change.

I leaf through the marrow of atrocities—
I watch as a wave, that had built so majestically, 
Breaks upon shallow water—
Reduced to a ripple, powerless and lost by the time it reaches the shore.
And suddenly, a line from Krishnamurti’s discourse seizes my mind:
"Violence is the imposition of what should be on what is."

For violence, like dust clouds, moves through the body—
Shifting, with a fission here, a clamp there—
A twinge in the gut, a mild static in the extremities—
Imperceptibly morphing its shape, texture, and boldness,
Always in motion, always alive.

And in this ecstasy, I can see clearly,
Through the tincture of anxiety,
My thoughts sharp and focused,
Rushing to dash out an eloquent critique,
As if the act of writing might somehow calm the storm within,
Steady the chaos—
That spins a whirlwind underneath my skin.
© Jeta Buch  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Hanging On

no scrap of wrestle left inside and the battle remains

the same each morning in and all night out of peace

rock bottom ground control on empty remote chance

that this too shall pass in lost resolve of moving on


	getting out of bed leaves a struggle


pajamas drenched in sweat and tears of vacant promises

bottom with deep sores of apathy and motionless arrest

tied to inertia and its evil stagnant imposition on a ghost

in search of anything worthwhile to rescue from the bones


	brushing teeth a swedge too hard to heed


darkness leaves a forlorn trace of self-negating shadows

curtains drawn at the interface of death apart from living

random rays of sunlight blind weary eyes that saw enough

contrast of mangy soullessness with manic delirious craze


	one more thought too much to bear


the heroine can’t lick her oozing wounds at risk of drowning

ear drums burst from constant onslaught of crescendo’s call

the double bladed tongue of reason scrapes lips and excoriation

and yet reception is on auto pilot and the dial of feeling stuck


	emotion hurts any sensation on repeat


multiple voices offer an affray of inconsequential shouting

accuse betray condense deceive reflect guilt anger angst and shame

who would not admire the brave courage to brace the screaming pain

to endure and tolerate the injustices abuse neglect and evil spiral


	while the clasp of nothingness prevails


just then he gently wipes her brow and plants a tender patient kiss

one gesture of love contains more compassion than a hundred words

and quietly they suffer together the difference kindness can make

the greatest struggles never see the light of public dispensation


	and she replies in whispers I love you too my dear friend


08th March 2021

Premium Member LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY CONSCIENCE PURGER

December 8 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Hebrews 9-10

Key Verse– Hebrews 9:14 How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?

LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY CONSCIENCE PURGER			

Lord God, You are my conscience Purger by Your doctrines in Your sanctuary
Thank You for Your ordaining covenant accomplishing Your will for Your glory
Along Your guidance with Your blood-washed Gospel story
Upon Your acceptable sacrifice offered with faith’s victory.

Lord God, You are my conscience Purger by Your ordinance-imposition
Thank You for Your building-up redemption and sanctification
Along Your mediation with Your testament’s illumination
Upon Your lawful precepts’ instruction and direction.

Lord God, You are my conscience Purger by Your influence-light
Thank You for Your soul-purifying power of character transformation-might
Along Your holiness propelling me to do what is right
Upon Your ready help that reaches down to me for service-height.

Lord God, You are my conscience Purger by Your perfecting goodness
Thank You for Your offered sacrifice of humility’s graciousness
Along Your will of divine pleasure’s gentleness
Upon Your wondrous resurrection showing Your greatness.

Lord God, You are my conscience Purger by Your daily ministering
Thank You for Your compassionate hands’ nurturing
Along Your forgiveness for my confessed murmuring
Upon Your tender mercy enabling my consecration’s rearing.

Lord God, You are my conscience Purger by Your full assurance
Thank You for Your faithful promise of strengthening endurance
Along Your love’s exhortation with Your ready deliverance
Upon Your truth’s judgment and patient forbearance.

Lord God, You are my conscience Purger by Your well-meaning recompense
Thank You for Your teaching wisdom against doubt and pretense 
Along Your Scriptures instructing me toward labour’s diligence
Upon Your precepts shielding my heart with principled defense.

December 8, 2023
Form: Rhyme

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