Long Improbability Poems
Long Improbability Poems. Below are the most popular long Improbability by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Improbability poems by poem length and keyword.
Captured
Locked in a cell of rapture
Not the normal hell
But into a happy prison I fell
Willing to serve my time
For this euphoric crime
I’ve got to find peace of mind
I’ve got dreadfully to find
The source of this state of mind
Screams impossibility
We seem a great improbability
I feel there’s no me without her
I try so hard to forget about her
Takes too much energy
You evoke many a sweet memory
Your arms feel like they are forever holding me
Couldn’t care about physical attraction
Don’t need any sexual satisfaction
Prefer intellectual stimulation
Entwine ourselves in mental relations
You trust me despite myself
Feel safe with all my faults
Put aside all your wants
Put down the walls and fronts
Right now I hate myself
Can’t believe that you
Would want to have anything to do
With someone so insecure
A man so immature
But your resolve inspires me
To be much more than just me
Your honesty makes my desires pure
Felt like I’d lost my identity
But you gave new meaning to me
Touch my face with your hands
Feel my joy radiating through your palms
What must I say to you
How do I talk to you
I want to understand
Why you can’t let go of my hand
Why you need to hold me in a sweet embrace
Now we have to face
The temptations of our hearts
Just don’t keep me from your love
Don’t hold me behind
Because you have freed my mind
Anything is possible
Our love can be so possible
Let’s break the impossible
And make it beautiful
Let’s get lost in each other’s eyes
Give me a chance to win that prize
Every day can be another day
For me to try to say
How much you’ve made my day
How much I loved our yesterday
How much I love today
How much you’ll make me love tomorrow..
Form:
I will try one more time to fall asleep I must try
For I am alone, so I thought, must be the birds thats why
I convince myself its so, and I close my eyes slow
But that knock comes even louder as it did before
Again noone in sight not even the birds
I look around and I am now truly alone with my words
It must be a demon coming to claim what is hers
That my soul is her prize taking me back to disperse
I will not go without a fight I promise you that
I will not give up my soul for your relentless tact
If I must I will cut my own throat before I fall
To your spell I wont dwell I will no longer be appalled
The knocking grows so loud it defeans me yet
She is coming, the soul of lifeless demeaner is spent
I made up my mind I will not let her take me alive
I will do what is best and decease my own life
As I take my humble blade, and cut into skin
I feel my soul escape low and laugh out loud with no grin
I am free no more knock, for I know she is here
To take my soul from my desperate loving care
That is it I did the deed, but where did she go?
I have not seen her come let alone stare into my vacant bodys tear
Why does she not take a look before she dissapears?
But I still hear that knock of effortless jeer
As I fly around my ship trying to locate the ghost
I hear the knock coming up loud as I seem to approach
There it is I can hear it clear she must be inside
As I open the door my spirit turns white without pride
There it stood, a clock that was given to me
By my daughter to fear off the spirits of evil deed
It lay on its side with the hands moving constantly
Against the table of my choice it was "knocking" at me
Form:
A stone's cast ----
but what great arm has set about the motion?
was not the first mother reared? ----
her children on the smiles of angels?
her womb filled with devotional design;
to flourish to some end with hope in God's motivation?
..... back to the (garden), with this posy and its ink near end,
and its quill dipped still in mystique;
yet I did not come (here) by chance,
nor was my mother born from some heathen improbability,
there can come no answers in doubt;
for fear of the wolves the woods are too shadowed
and loiter most grimly,
always death on the wind....
I shall not doubt the design in the weave the Great Artist
hath woven, and what magic touch with the world's eye in mind;
only the dullard doubts the infinite graces in the reflecting pool,
and the skeptic accursed without revelation -----
his own child but water, flesh and bone
and the cold earth but waits for him,
in the bellies of fattened worms;
when death's breath whispers and curls and furls
as serpent wisp-mists, coiling to mortal truth ----
he shall cling to God and eternity!
Have I died a thousand deaths?
walked the cool of earth ere?
tasted of the sweet nectar of love,
and the bounties beyond death?
That we will to live, and climb to some end,
the jagged-precipice, and toil to experience
and seek the Final Mighty Mount ----
is our great testimony to eternity;
To leave our fingerprint upon the world,
and slip into paradise as a welcomed wind 'neath its door.....
Hey yer, you’re all alone
this tiny rock circling the sun
with all it’s life in isolation
one itty-bitty part of all creation
yer, you’re all alone
And although in complexity
the organisation of miracles
is the virtual improbability of your existence
still in wondering why
you can even open your eyes
is but an after thoughts quantum of impossibility
Yer, you’re all alone
minuscule spec and mote
single solitary of sentient obsession
with nothing else that can be
but an atom of conscious entropy
there is nothing out there really
You’re just a scrapbook of dogma and ideology
a pitiful attempt of making sense
counting the stars inside a galaxy
yep, you’re all alone
grain of sand next to the sea
oops there goes another accident of eternity
While the miraculous occurs constantly
and still you try so very hard to believe
Yep you’re all alone, sorry to say
and terribly sorry
the inconsequential dew drop of your life's history
the what I, where I and all about
the great big purposeful questions of piffling doubt
count the stars in numberless galaxies
Oh but dead, death and end will be
and oh my god what then will happen to me
as dust and bones
and totally empty
here in the embrace of this eternal
must you face some recognition of your purpose
While the miraculous occurs constantly
and still you try so very hard to believe
Quantum gravity,
a dance of dust and light,
where dimensions fold and stretch,
warped by the weight of stars unseen.
Man is a ripple in a cosmic web,
a fleeting pulse between the weave
of infinite beginnings and forgotten ends.
He is the sum of quarks, n electrons
splintered shadows of a once-known universe,
drifting between the event horizon
and the whisper of the void.
In the silence of dark energy,
where photons bend to wills unknown,
time fractures,
fractal moments slip through our grasp
like the memory of a dream
And seas of infinite possibilities
And finite improbability!
Gravitational rainbows arc
through the fabric of existence,
but the colors dissolve—
indistinguishable in the vacuum,
where light is devoured,
and the matter is a myth
woven in the collective mind
of an indifferent cosmos.
Man’s trace is dust on the galactic shore,
washed by tides of entropy,
swept in currents of strange attraction.
He stands—both wave and particle,
a transient echo,
fading in the hum!
Of space’s eternal quiet & quantum gravity
in gravitational rainbows & quantum thoughts
of thermal expansion & dark matter dynamics!
Man is the sum of a wave in flux
a particle
a membrane
a matter of seconds
a magnum of creation
in a vacuum of space
time is ultraviolet
Irrelevant as his footprint
in the sand
on the galactic shores!
It Was A Beautiful Affair
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
intended for me
your permanent craved desire
hungry urge for us
The other one of a complimentary pair,
opposites attract in this illicit affair.
Promises of existence in each other's universe,
hand cursing your chest as you kiss my neck,
entwined bodies drowning while fully immersed,
two forbidden lovers in the night do connect.
Selfish lust with broken intuitions,
free from obligations and responsibility,
I'll never reveal this pale inquisition,
our debilitated unsafe improbability,
filled with naked lies and possibility.
My lover gives me more pleasurable moments,
he frees me from the chains of sacred vows,
delivers me with a completed lovers atonement,
forgive me, but touching me does he know how.
Broken trust with selfish dishonest lies,
leading away from honor into infatuation,
should I keep my affection or say goodbye?
I just can't resist his passionate palpitation,
I may face my husband's condemnation.
Infidelity beyond all reasons we do share,
opposites attract in this illicit affair.
liaison desires
triangle of lust and thirst
double life is lived
Forms used: senryu-couplet-quatrain-rhyme
quatrain-rhyme-couplet-senryu
Written: June 30, 2016
I speak with clarity and honesty,
and don't hide underneath pretenses;
never my promises turn into lies!
How long have you known me,
and yet you fail to see my sincerity...
when the warm light of friendship glows?
More fear than certainty
is a weak and recognizable trait
that strongly and deeply affects
any or all feelings humanly;
be logical and overcome distrust,
there are other ways to show love...
without being touched or felt!
Be sure to be true to yourself,
and not resent the unsaid words tomorrow;
open up to the noble truth, not false belief!
I am not demanding anything,
or foce you into doubtful giving;
isn't this friendship worth more than love?
More fear than certainty
makes gladness fall away,
thinking that being ungiving
is only a sign of selfishness ,
or unfelt sweetness;
each heart should be guided by self-defining,
not by self-scrutinity...
or a constant improbability!
contained within crooked pages lies the secret of happiness its a secret noone will ever
find though because the world would fracture into infinite equations quasars would
eviscerate limbs and render human speech impossible which would be catastrophic in the
grand scheme of things i only wish to last forever or maybe for what i write to outlive me
somehow even though im not exactly keats or yeats to be recognised in multiple dimensions
and by multiple personality disorders of the same fictious person would be somehow
endearing albeit somewhat scary and improbable momentous thoughts tend to surround us when
we least expect them to but be it writing a terrible poem about a daffodil or being
punched in the face or travelling through wormholes of improbability at seventeen thousand
times the speed of light at the end of the day when all is done and said humanity is rubbish
Existence,
being, thinking.
Improbable!
All that
occurred
for being.
Thinking,
an amazing
concept.
Understanding
improbability.
Improbability
of being.
Improbability of
of personal
existence.
What are
the odds?
How many
events needed
for existence?
For personal
existence?
Incalculable.
All that occurred
for personal
existence.
Incalculable!
Flash of being.
Personal existence,
firefly in nature.
Brief.
A few blinks
then.....
What to do
within the blinks?
Make the
most of your
unfathomable
being,
unfathomable
existence.
Process.
Butterfly effect.
What is
done today,
will affect
forever.
Will change
the course
of events.
Will effect
those yet
to be.
Make a
difference,
a positive
difference.
Make your
blinks count!
Make your
Improbability
meaningful
for all that’s
yet
to be!
intended for me,
your permanent craved desire
hungry urge for us
The other one of a complimentary pair,
opposites attract in this elicit affair.
Promises of existence in each other's universe,
hand cursing your chest as you kiss my neck,
entwined bodies drowning while fully immersed,
two forbidden lovers in the night do connect.
selfish lust with broken intuitions
free from obligations and responsibility
I'll never reveal this pale inquisition
our debilitated unsafe improbability
filled with naked lies and possibility
infidelity beyond all reasons we do share,
opposites attract n this elicit affair.
Written: October 31, 2015