Long Incremental Poems

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


Premium Member forget not king warning

forget not king warning demonic 
danger incremental gradual liberal
nor genocide joey precedent 
nor dispensation donny cleansing
oligarchy authority false choice
g ford greater more effective evil
empire merrikka people subjects 
rejects will well being ignore
dream fruition arriving never more
guard commons free speech farmed
private sector extract boiled ready frog
politic elect thesbian culture war
tonies grammies oscars divide conquer
chopping chomsky consent manufacture
wealth income earth labor rare birth
despair lament pay rent higher 
proper response race both blatant
subtle kinder gentler totalitarian 
all planet people planted excluded
possible power economic politic
remote hemmed chemical psycho
social escape routes addict dead ends
abundant narrate nook craney cross
every color four bid three finger all pro
nouns nun since seeing poking stabbing
lids bins laden all gore beat rhyme
tapdancing tintinabulation embedded
robot tune ruin seesaw sooth soul life
sleep endless bow dark nestle loud
selah


heavenly ace

fruitful is each breath, unpremeditational
  dolphins jumping calm sea diagonal 
    as bumble bee pauses on swaying daisy
       industry’s pollen for human folk’s honey 
           we all are lucky, don’t you see ?

sun rising each morn or hiding in winter 
  eclipsed by nebula, floating arbitrary blinkers
    circling purest love within core soaring 
     unexpected finches settle, chirping linger

 fertile soil unsolicited beneath our feet fortuitous is Gaia, gravity’s a blue-green feat
    coffee’s black, sweet an incidental treat   
      incremental is our luck, not accidental 
           
dribbling raindrops on window pane inadvertent 
 allow scribbles of verses in puddle concerted wings of wind float seeds, land lacy across loam
   nothings by chance, sometimes we roam   

naught’s coincidental, every positive         serendipity underscores a negative
balance of forces appears chance, though every cookie’s appearance is 
                         ALL’s intention dance 

fortuitously I uncovered ageless trace of own
  sixty-fourth gene codon, gleaning my life’s purpose previously unseen —- to be
  transformational-inspirational poetry was          genome’s message unhesitational ~

 seemed random, opportune gift graces
                          unveiling heavenly aces

____________________________

SECOND PLACEMENT : Premier Contest 
Sponsor: Rob Carmack 
April 26
Form: Lyric

May 14 Gaza Border

Evil is incremental
One bullet after another
And after another
And after another
Until there’s a blister
On my trigger finger
Where there used to be a wet print
Of a little kiss
Transplanted to my little girl’s cheek
Before I left for work
This morning,

She’s sound asleep in bed
With the spring birds singing
Through her window.

All day

I do
The best I can
To shoot low,
To spare the gut,
To leave the heart within its chest,

I merely shred knee caps and groins
With shrapnel
From the cannon in my hand,
To buckle those distant shapes
Of brown people,
To see them writhe in the dirt
On their asses,
Legs and arms pumping into the air
Like half-squished spiders
On top of a table,

Hauled away in spoonfulls of wheelbarrows

My God
My God
Please stop
This prophecy

Of slingshots
And firebombing kites.

I know most of my bullets
Have slipped into the gaseous abyss
With their own orders
And less discipline
Into a handshake of fate
Until I reckon
With the end of time

I am doing this

Me

All day
At work
Shooting
Across a field
Over a fence erected by men
Because this is heaven, and that is hell
And they all want in,

Millions of them,
Wanting to kill me
And my little girl
Asleep in her bed.

I’ve never heard or seen
Of anything
More irrelevant
Than having a choice.

Did I say that, or did they?

We all follow our orders.

Premium Member History's Balancing Act

I continue reading Iain McGilchrist's
"The Master [Mistress] and his [her] Emissary,"
a retelling of many RightWing dominant
and LeftWing repressed and suppressed events
anti-ecofeminist
and pro-orthodox patriarchal white privileged histories
of nationalistic fatherlands
written across the individual ego-hearts
and eco-habitats
of every EarthMother trans-regenerator
born into spatially incremental awareness
through temporally exponential change--

like a river
greeting an ocean
and an ocean
receiving a river.

Where Julian Jaynes
tells a psychological story of bicameral breakdown
into RightWing bipolar schizophrenic madness,

Introducing healing possibilities
in WinLeft/WinRight
WinWest/WinEastern dipolar integrity,

McGilchrist sees bicameral balance buildup
of LeftBrain ego competence
to passionately re-heal RightBrain integrity
remembering each ego-individuating story,
restorative listening and speaking continuous identity's history
uniquely, yet interdependently,
told through bicameral
bilateral
binomial polypathic
polyphonic musing music
polynomially ZeroSoul Zone
resiliently dancing
universal ego
and unitarian eco-habitat resonance,

Integrity's double-boundary
Yes! Yes! 
ecstatic communion potential.

Premium Member Lightspeed of Communion

I intended to say
when I was young
each day felt too slowly incremental
toward my generation's time in Earth's wiser sun,

But my ancient extended hand
keeps writing "exponential"
while incremental
paradox climates of Boomer
boring catastrophic dominance
over shadows summer's equinox of burning
toxic sun.

I pretend to hope and think
I
and my generation
and my local community
could,
and even should,
invite Earth's incremental exception,
a golden holiday
within sad degenerative climate history.

But my ancient retreading feet
keep reaching for an internal climate of acceptance
where no exception
could ever think or feel
interdependently left against right
relation.

Incremental eco-unlogical exceptions
to sacred business as everyday win/win left usual
in maturing might is more right 
for youth's wealthy individuation,

Where exponential future acceptance
invites positive climate deviance
in right's past transgenerative roots,
meditative communal branches,
healthy flowering fluent seeds
of communication

Slowly emerging
through incremental wealth exceptions
to disempowering climates
introducing global experiential eco-village acceptance
for Earth's most patriotic health empowerment.


Premium Member Expiration Date

Expiration Date
Written: by Tom Wright
4/4/2016
Jimmy’s expiration date was 4-4-2016 at 2:15 PM

At inception God assigns each, an expiration date,
Some dates seem premature, some linger until late.

Man does all he can to prolong this time on earth,
But we all start expiring at our moment of birth.

Our lives are incremental slightly like a yearly season,
And things found strange to us, God has His reason.

Many float through life thinking of earth bound days,
Enjoying the good times, soaking up the warm rays.

While never seeming conscious of a date stamped by name,
Some are content with simple living, others, fortune or fame;

But the speed bumps of life are placed before us to capture,
Our thoughts from the present, to a soon, coming rapture.

Many give God little thought until dumbstruck from fear,
Sensing that clock is ticking and expiration date draws near.

So live life in the moment with whatever cross you bear,
Praying for God’s easy path ascending from here, to there;


I believe many close calls in life may have been times
When God was resetting our expiration date?
Tom
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Paternal Grandfather Aaron Harris

Paternal Grandfather Aaron Harris...

Lovely bones long since disintegrated
into dustbin of genealogical history,
if still alive would rank as oldest person
clocking another one incremental increase
asper in chronological number
anniversary of his birth occurring within July

year unknown, but within
latter decades nineteenth century
obviously conceived nine months prior
perhaps after raucous Thanksgiving feast,
where biological exuberance
induced natural throbs activating
indomitable rutting boisterous merriment.

Nary handy dandy scant blues clue known
about biography of aforementioned
long departed grandpa
only smidgen smudged details recalled
vague nebulous memories, these predicated
upon his every now and again visits, oft

times after he relocated to Florida
sporting tanned leathery
toughened crocodile hide
predictably, invariably, delicately donning
name brand signature
wrist watch, (albeit analog)

affixed loosely dangling
from his well weathered
lobster like bony south claw,
this singularly enigmatic
eye catching jewelry
captivating, fascinating, intriguing

glittering name brand trademark timepiece
affecting myself and siblings, especially youngest
asserting, contesting, vouchsafing...,
who would occupy coveted seat
closest to simple mechanical contraption.

After supper, he would regale
us three Harris grandchildren
(offspring begat in part courtesy
his favorite native son named Boyce
thee father to yours truly)

illustrating multifarious adept skill
folding sheets of outdated newspapers
creating cut out dolls strung together,
and/or the knack whereby
with few brisk
(i.e. Jewish version of origami),

he quickly styled boats, chairs, hats
none of which survived our rambunctious
severe tests of durability,
nor could any of us kids

reproduce with any remote success,
those deceptively
seemingly easy to craft
paper dolls linkedin with joined hands.

A Hutinashro of Memory and Aging

While wandering, I wonder much
Of life and love and other such
That I possessed yet left behind
For life is not a static thing
No stagnant or eternal spring
Forever in its youth confined
And time will always find a way
To push us onward day by day
Into a future undefined
Until it happens is revealed
Was unimagined now … is real
And we can see where once were blind

While wandering, I wonder much
About the magic of the touch
Of things that I can scarce recall
For some have left without a trace
While some declined this mordant pace
To speed their ultimate withdrawal
Yet some remain to stay the course
To keep us sane and reinforce
A conscious yet subjective thrall
Such makes the most of what is left
Despite the incremental theft
That cannot be forever stalled

In time all memories depart
But what I had is never lost
It lives forever … in my heart
Form: Rhyme

The Art of Showing Up

Master the art of showing up. Start small and scale up. Some of us are great at showing up for others, but not so good at putting ourselves first. 

Why not think of a few things you'd like to improve and take them slowly. We don't have to be perfect or awesome right away. 

Good luck and I hope you are inspired. Choose life. Choose happiness. Take care and best wishes.

The art of showing up
By Michelle Morris
28/12/2022

The art of showing up
Sounds simple as a concept
But for many people
It is challenging to master

If you spent your life
Putting the needs of others first
It becomes exceptionally difficult
To honour your own needs at all

So, try something simple
Write down a goal or two
Commit to giving it five minutes
And increasing it over time

By showing up for yourself
You show that you deserve those goals
By showing up for yourself
You show respect and honour untold

For in those incremental moments
You're building confidence and strength
Mental, physical, emotional and spiritual
It all matters in the end

You don't have to be perfect
No one is born a master at anything
Try to have fun and be open
Learn and grow and find inspiration

Try to focus on the positive
'Cos what's the worst that could happen?
If you fail, you'll have learned something
If you succeed, you'll have a new platform

For each new skill level
Helps us expand our range some more
Until we find that we have learned
Way more than we thought possible

It may seem so silly
But trust me, it will count
And over the next year
You will be amazed at the result

© Michelle Morris, 2022

Premium Member Alcoholic's Sonnet

I expected my life of days would be fairly calm.
Only the enlightened ancestors would follow me.
I’d mimic them and love and sing their favorite psalm.
Instead this mystic mind does not escape blood’s history.
Where can we go where it won’t be in our sight?
Why do we swallow enticing liquid until blind and then insane?
Terror incinerates every cell and sweats thick human fright--
As ninety proof storms of liquor reign.
Repeat, repeat, repeat the ritual of hell, while lips pray but know,
That the incremental burning flavored sips will win.
Stop! Wait! And shake and wake and gasp and sob, “Death let me go!”
Release, please, relief please, release, take out the liquid knife.
Save this non believer even if it means, feeling.
Form: Sonnet

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