Long Inanimate Poems
Long Inanimate Poems. Below are the most popular long Inanimate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Inanimate poems by poem length and keyword.
Guns Don’t Kill People
Guns Don’t kill people
People kill people with kindness
Guns are evil
Guns kill guns
Psychiatrist treat themselves to candy
Nothing else, since fire arms are inanimate
Don't respond well to therapy
Guns sneak up on one another in the night
They don’t use knives, poisons or potions
Train themselves on one another with their sights
With bullet certainty
To commit their crimes
Gun One waits for gun Two in the dark
Both stoked to pull the trigger
Just then, baby gun jumps into action
Although it is a little pistol
limited experience in lethal explosive force
It fires on them again and again
Both senior guns are dead but really dead
It is not an illusion
You can draw your own conclusions
Don’t jump to them
And do so in your head
Bang bang
Central air conditioning quickly
found this creature comfort acclimated,
defies, contradicts, bumps uglies...
up against rugged individualist
I meekly profess to idealize
admitting propensity nothing
distinguishable differentiating
all talk no action, no less tolerant
than aversion to extreme heat index
burrowing into sixty degree Fahrenheit
climate control mancave
quite divergent weathering
humid, hot, and hazy
dog days of summer,
when boyhood at 324 Level Road
lacked luxuriating aforestated amenity
first poetic line
introducing anonymous reader
familiar or otherwise
regaling modest literary versatility,
whereby yours truly
dealt with temperatures
registering bajillion degrees,
especially level housing bedrooms
about half dozen steps above landing
suddenly experiencing indisputable
scientific principle hot air rises
undermining ability to function
no more active rather equally inert
as inanimate object
mainly cuz estate complex edifice
formerly christened "Glen Elm"
built approximately half century
preceding incorporating
said modern HVAC conveniences,
no modern building lacks,
plus ability to tolerate hardship
much more omnipresent
before yours truly
racked quite numerous
orbitz round the sun
versus now, when
greater sensitivity prevails,
I admit pioneer spirit plummeted,
and if forced to forego
custom tailored environment
would be immovable prey,
for even the most
harried styled carrion,
which admission would
only present challenge
predicated on severe disruption
compromising being hermetically
sealed, linkedin, cocooned...
within man-made dwelling
hardship analogous no name brand
garden variety slug
essentially homeless snail
shell lacked with mew cuss!
9 billion years is nothing if not but a beginning
For the virus is in disguise
Not quite alive, almost life, a prototype
Lives in a mask, a husk, inanimate, parasitic
Growth of the emergent proto life forged in the void
Viruses can not live on their own
A host is necessary in empty places
Even is the depths of outer space
Bacteria swim in colonies of millions
Stream as one cell organisms
Disease is a way to get attention
They live. Some are infectious
The virus kills but not on purpose
Some protect us from ourselves
A shell of what could have been
If they were something else in this existence
Have you ever had this happen to you?
You're walking along, minding your business
When a pole leaps out in front of you
Rattles your brain leaving you senseless
Inanimate objects aren't so inanimate
It seems they have a mind of their own
You're strolling along when a boulder appears
Stub your toe and it hurts to the bone
Sometimes when your patio doors are clean
It's just like there's no glass at all
With a confident stride, you walk into them
Smash your nose and you try not to bawl
You're running for a bus and then it happens
You slip on a discarded banana peel
You wind up with your bum high in the air
Doing some acrobatic cartwheels
You wonder how these inanimate objects
Seem to know the right time to attack
It happens when you surely least expect it
And your wheels come right off the track!
©Jack Ellison 2012
Written: February 19, 2025 For contest Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Line of inquiry:
as an entity in the dream, we conjured
we know not we are both the dreamer and dreamed
how then may we wake up when we are in trance
in bondage to illusions we ourselves streamed
*************************
Through the scenery of my reflected mind,
Where phantasm and sentience intertwined.
I clumber caught in an inanimate dream,
Where nothing is genuinely what it may seem.
We are creators and thralls in this dreamscape,
We foster a weaving of sycophancy and serape.
Many fallacies entwine with each strand of truth,
As skeptics, we lack a grasp on what is smooth.
Perhaps it's time to question what we hold as real,
To probe the depths of our collective, waking feel.
Only when we confront the truth we made,
Can we begin to shatter the illusions we parade?
Reflections shimmer on the spectrum glass,
Where restrictions of existence gingerly pass.
Subtly blending jointly, the dreamer and dream,
Where illusions' constraints begin to stream.
Am I profoundly watching or am I the watcher?
Without a grounding, afloat as a space monster.
The self breaks down within a specific design,
Where exterior limits and inner sublimity shine.
Through the blackness and the splitting light,
Coming out of the shadowy shapes of our plight.
We probe the bedrock character of our state,
Also, stimulates every dubbed conceptual gate.
And so we rise, as a phoenix from flames,
With eyes ajar, and hearts no longer tamed.
We grasp a raw world, with a vision clear and bright,
And as the sojourn is sturdy, we'll walk into the light.
Pelicans
Dipped in a hard oil exteriors in LOUSIANA ARE SUFFERING
Why must natures angels suffer from human destruction
Their mouths quieted by the fact that their vocal chords are voiceless
and they choke on liquids humans define as precious
But their eyes like a crystal balls show that their hope is beginning to deteriorate
Their angelic feathers now drooping like 10000 lb heavy weights
Agonized by poisons they grieve the acknowledgement of what a beautiful life they could have had............. before we took it without consent
Lackluster from exhaustion they hang their heavy heads
Defeated, is their miracle coming to save them yet?
Such graceful beauteous creatures lay with their feet in the air many are inanimate
Still they hang on defiant against the weary arm of death
Awaiting to soar higher than the sunset
"Am I Crazy?" If you can ask yourself that you're not, right?
Crazy things have been happening to me lately day and night.
Inanimate objects, non living things,
have been having with me "conversations."
Take my Buddha tea lite candle holder for instance.
We recently had one of those "conversations."
Looking out my window I came to see,
a woman whose shopping cart fell apart completely.
Scattered on the ground were all of her groceries,
it was then that Buddha began saying repeatedly,
"Get off your ass, get off your ass," over and over again to me,
"Get off your ass, get off your ass," he just kept going on relentlessly,
"Get off your ass, get off your ass," It was driving me crazy,
"Get off your ass, get off your ass," and so I surrendered completely,
Buddha said his last "get off your ass".
granting me a moment of silence and peace.
I went down and helped her gather all of her groceries,
and gave her my shopping cart to keep.
"Hey, you're the guy who takes care of the feral cats aren't you?
I've been wanting to give you something,
but didn't know how to reach you."
She reached inside her purse and gave me a check,
$1,000.00 payable to Cash.
"I think it's a great thing," she said, "what you do,
and I wanted to give a little something that could help you."
She thanked me again and shook my hand,
"It was a pleasure meeting you,"
she said, "you're a very good man."
"Wow," I said aloud in my apartment, "$1,000.00 payable to Cash,"
that's when Buddha said to me somewhat crass,
"Aren't you now glad I got you up off your ass?"
(“Tapestry”, 2025, original encaustic)
Have you ever been taken in by the story
Delivered some place foreign and strange
Yet familiar and true?
Of course you have, as all humans do.
Vocalized, visualized, subliminally dreamed
That is our lot.
From bedtime stories to books and movies
Our lives leap gladly into the novel.
And oh what awaits us there!
Portals and corridors
Into what transcends the individual
And so transcends even our humanity.
I dreamt once of being a bridge
Literally not figuratively
And I’m sure I’ve also dreamt of being
More animate nonhuman things
The dream after all
In all its animate and inanimate forms
Is simply a creation of our mind
Our mind made illusively flesh and fiber
Fueled with all the tinder of waking experience
But brought to a frothing boil
By something more
Something that only comes alive
Taking form and shape
In the telling.
(11/15/25)
Sleepy thoughts loiter,
Dreamy images disappear...
Sun stabs sudden focus.
Subconscious thoughts come
Abrupt as light streams,
No time to think.
Senses aware one by one:
Like octopus tentacles
Twisting and curling to touch.
Edgy promontory here:
Eyes scan the cityscape fringes,
Twenty-storey window view
Far below the tiny people,
Busy with busyness,
Little rushing marionettes.
If they could see this puppet
Rising with drowsy countenance,
A curly smile will attend amusement.
Anyhow my simple heart
Prays a blessing for each stranger
Plunging into life's misdemeanours.
Awake and aware once again,
This new day beckons impatiently,
Sunbeams pave the way.
With humble thanksgiving,
Look forward to a blur quest,
Explore forthcoming murmurings.
Mind comes to know a field
Beyond the tragic wrong
And the dramatic right.
A certain field where play presides,
Where all can meet fond ecstasy
With rapture and delight.
Here fear and guilt and regret
Are purged from conscious thought,
Here feelings find sure innocence.
Once more, a wholeness comes
To bind each part as one:
Thus, each soul feels unique yet reconciled.
Yes, discovery greets mystery,
If you learn to discern
The perfect symmetry of life.
Even the inanimate life
In rocks and stones and hills
Salute the sacred gospel divine.
Look beyond the chaos
To sure goodness of wise nature,
See the face of God who lives and loves.
There is a certain harmony
Beyond science and religion:
The cosmos live in grace and beauty.
Leon Enriquez
15 September 2014
Singapore
At last you've been laid to rest, twenty~twenty
A plague on mankind with tragedies aplenty
Since February, you've given up total control
abandoning us as a wicked germ took its toll
You'll be remembered as the horrendous year
that filled the world with grievances and fear
Many nations locked down in a strangle hold
Their leaders, blunderers; usless as fool's gold
Labeled covid a 'hoax' as it raged as systemic
and you, 2020, were accursed by a pandemic
But it was not the only flaw that branded you
Summer was tainted by men dressed in blue
Brother dueled against brother, black vs. white
Angry protesters ignited cities ablaze at night
"Black lives matter!" Too much police brutality
America became a war zone of hostile mentality
For months on your calendar, bitterness raged
On and on great masses clashed. Battles waged
Maybe it's unfair to rant against you in this way
You're inanimate, not at fault, some would say
History will refer to you as the bearer of blame
Without a voice, the travesties you can't disclaim
You were the year of storms and too much death
Of masked faces, afraid of drawing a deep breath
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted on January 1, 2021 for Mohan Chutani's
2020 to 2021 Contest. We've laid 2020 to rest