Long Indifferences Poems
Long Indifferences Poems. Below are the most popular long Indifferences by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Indifferences poems by poem length and keyword.
Battle of the Sexes
A Collaboration Between: Pandita Sanchez and Eric L. Boddie
As beautiful and smart as you are,
you always seem to take it too far.
I know some of it is just;
but there is still so much that never needed to be discussed.
It could be that you too often misunderstand me,
overcomplicating and seeing life differently.
They say men are from Mars and women from Venus,
so things will never be simplified between us.
Tell me, what am I to think -
I mean, your mood changes within a blink;
so much emotion can sometimes get in the way,
you like pushing buttons - what's that shade of gray?
One minute you say that I’m too emotional;
then when I prove to be your equal, you call me irrational.
Is it just that I’m way too much woman for you?
And, perhaps, you really don’t have a clue?
There you go again thinking you are all that;
that's the reason we are always off track.
I love everything about you, but I tire of the stress;
and I can't calm you down unless I get you undressed.
See that's exactly what I'm talking about -
resorting to caveman tactics makes you believe you have clout;
but you're no longer a boy, so you should know better, Boo,
you're wearing me out with your commitment issue.
You see, I just can't ever win.
So don't stand there trying to pretend
like you are faultless in all of this;
but the blame always hits me - it has never missed.
While I admit that I’m not totally blameless,
I’ve been the one who‘s always willing to do more while you do less.
In fact, like Rodin’s ‘Thinker’ you just brood over our problems;
but I’m the mover and shaker who actually tries to solve them.
You know what? I am done with all this…
I mean, you know I am addicted to your sweet kiss
which, consequently, makes arguments hard to resist,
all because there is not a feature about you I want to miss.
So please just let me say -
the indifferences need to end, and let's start anew today.
Well we don’t need to be arguing all the time sinking into quicksand,
if like two adults, we address concerns before they get out of hand.
But in spite of what our differences may be,
I know we love each other to the nth degree;
and in the end, we know we’re worth it, and we’ll see,
man and woman, we can work it out together, Baby, you and me.
Running, dripping, or still;
Life's a faucet, we’re a thirst,
To never drink our fill.
We drink and think
We are immune to pain from one another,
But brother, when it comes,
The waterfall or shower towers each
To block the sun.
Into a depth of puddles we stare
With all the wishes hearts forsake.
While voices whisper
From each rain for us to wake.
All drops stop, then disappear,
Take no side but reach our ear
In long or shorter stride to touch
The origin inside.
The place from which no one can hide;
The Hand that turns our faucet on or off.
From caves to huts and soup to nuts,
Each of us an entertainment,
The scope of which directed by
The compass of our choice.
We have and hear a different voice,
But it is our own we stretch
Across this voided earth,
Spiked with certain curtains and callings
Our ceilings manufactured.
These times are not newer
Because there are fewer miles
Of synapse between us.
It is a small but constant distance
From cheek to cuspidor
And what is not expected
Is expectorant on the floor
As we walk into our slippers
Through each shower of hours.
Chapters of happiness layered
With a faith that is guided by
What we have been without.
It is far more elegant to dress
Our moments in what is missing
Than dismissing the obvious
For the want of more,
Yet to stop is to become
That which we were chasing.
Our ears grow with age.
While cold guides our fingers flattened rage.
We can say what we will, turn the page,
Or eat a pie, starting every bite with I.
Who would be the wiser?
What gains a penny whose face is proud
And speaks aloud to the backside of a life?
Follow or fallow It’s what we are made of;
Harvesting hairs, split with indifferences
Spilling from the mouths of babes,
But Maybe baby, we just want to be held
One more time before we go,
While knowledge and understanding
Come from the language of others.
Each place or face is a foreign orb
That we err or blur into a refinement.
It is not a magic pencil but a crazy crayon
From which the cartoons of our life are born.
Oh Gabriel, come blow that horn!
I sense that these are testing times with forecasts of better seasons.
I hope that I am not confusing, but I'm simply musing about a season
destined to be changed forever and for the good. Surely, methinks it is not
the worst of times because things could get a whole lot worse. Neither is
it the best of times because things could be a whole lot better. Perhaps
it is a prelude and a time of preparation for better things just beyond the
horizons. I see the dark clouds and feel the heavy winds, but have yet to
hear and feel the roar of destructive funnel twistings. Allow me to muse
about the possible prelude to and the prospects of the best of times.
Could it indeed be a time of reflection and refreshing, a season of calm, quiet,
and closeness? Could this be a gateway of intimacy with our God who wants
to be heard by a people who are not prone to listen? Could this prospective
prelude to new norms be a 'God-send' that vanquishes the old norms laden with indifferences and contentment without Godliness? Would we not welcome
a 'new norm' ever more kind, loving, and relational? Perhaps if we look longer, pray fervently, and wait patiently, we will see the silver lining in the cloud laden with a Presence of God unseen or experienced in our lifetime.
These, therefore, are my musings of faith, hope, promise, and love. As the world begins to thaw from the CORONA COVID-19 freeze, opening up itself step by cautious step, may we not stagger, staring at the little picture without beholding the bigger picture. And as Christians, may we not fall short of opening our hearts to a world drifting into ever deeper waters and falling ever further from God.
051320PSCtest, Brian's Choice B, Strand
A breathe of life is in all.
Billions of filthy containers,
Nothing good is expected from them.
They are full of something,q
We've both got to check the profitability needed to replace the trash in them.
I'm afraid and need a motivation to keep the breathe alive,
Don't wish iniquity keeps dominating.
Not to allow self-deception to qualify somebody wrongly.
Today seems to make some of us low class members,
And some of us high class mates.
Situating both the poor and rich under equal sunshine,
Tells of defined indifferences,
We all receives Jehovah's rain.
Truth be told,no soul is called perfect in appearance,
Maybe we still got to grow?
Throwing jabs in suspense.
Wishing to be known?
Pls then we kindly should stay awake and take some pills.
A powerful dose to cure the fake personality role being played,
Or life deserve to be lived by futile deals?
There's a strong pain felt by ridiculed souls placed on trade.
But the skillful men will forever keep their stands before the seats of the great men in diadems.
Remember perfectly because the Greatest Supremo want us to keep this as part of his powerful anthems.
So who did choose to ignore money?
Please tell me there's no one you've ever known and would know.
Yes,others choose to dig for knowledge.
Then the system of things prove that we chase currencies or search for hidden ideas.
Ignoring to picture the result of a wicked man's target setting is a first mark to his downfall which always urge the discreet man to fear the true GOD who is in the highest place.
The warning is still coming from afar,
Yet many ears sleeps in a buried world.
Just because poor happiness is taken as a major fame.
Such a wrong identification?
Good bye dear friend,
Good bye my fellow keeper,
Until we meet to commune with the one who through him we exist in this lonely place.
That's where we would inevitably receive the reward we individually deserve.
So until then,please let's fare well.
Temerity has become the greed-follicles that puncture peacefulness in human life.
Extruding tangled spires across the earthen lands like trees ready to fall and crush.
Power seekers boldly trample upon the complacent, seldom knowing meekness.
Tromping over the forgiving folks like a huge social machine rousting in life’s brush.
Uninvolved masses passively watch it all on the news through biased reviews.
Frantic citizens of the world live in economic quandary…seemingly helpless.
Leaders frame in their wealth maneuvering their way through the very laws they created.
Self-service at the expense of taxpayer’s, trust lost to dishonesty while honors regress.
Intentions once professed become lost inklings of wholesome promises forgotten.
They walk upon the souls of those they were chosen to lead abandoning emotions.
Tears fall, but they are not their own. Not now.
When, then can the righteous man find solace and escape from life’s commotions?
Is it only death that brings a tortured man to peace as he stands before his creator?
As long as there is hope that good will overcome evil, man can survive the dread.
Hope lives as mortals pray that greed be set aside and understanding lead to peace.
Meanwhile, altruistic hearts work to promote better living as millions are fed.
Where is the reckoning that surely must bring a just end to temerity?
Can self-control contain the angry masses when indifferences prevail?
No relief is found except what comes on that final day…the last judgment.
Forgiveness frees; God is love; sing we then, “All Hail Let Peace Prevail.”
© May5, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Has that question ever sneaked its way into the conscious of your third eye?
Have you ever took pause from your self and viewed yourself as a he was or she was?
Release that parachute from flight and ground your soul with the memories of others thoughts.
The limits down here are not as high as the sky.
We get one chance to imprint the fixture, the movement... The tone of a legacy left by indifferences that makes you you!
The day my handkerchief floats no longer and drifts to the ground, I envision the power outage of the world.
Darcel stood a monument that people just had to get a glance at.
Darcel spoke with his heart while even in defeat. A lyric can’t harmonize the music that D. Sharp stands for.
A silence of over joy for him applauded over the art of tap.
Heads rolling back accepting the embodiment of fruits picked from me.
Screams of loss jamming frequencies of those trying to pick and hold on to one of the many memories of me.
GOOD OR BAD
I call on the locksmith that is you and you and you to unchain what is me, myself, and I with a twist of your key.
God allowed me to plant it, to water it, and nurture it within a bunkered facility.
Some might say he aint this and he wasn't that but remember.
I say remember because at one point in your life I was perfect for you.
I aided you to or from a circumstance that gave u clean air to breathe.
Now aint that some ****!
That’s how I will be remembered!
Fear conquers and guides them
like sheep in a trance
with their weak-willed existence
only leaving nothing to chance
defy and define this
reality to your making
I was born into blessing
behold your creation
Worship the free thinking
for they think like God's
weaving such narrow path
so the sheep don't stray off
seems that religion, in my opinion
started off as an experiment
until it's control was so spiritual
it became a universal experience
the only path ever laid out
was to follow or burn
close your eyes into religion,
or open them, to learn
My evolution was a revelation
I could not foresee
gave my all to be all me
thus, escaping such dull sanity
don't let the fear drive you away
to become one little lost sheep
thinking they know everything
yet, follow so blindly
A million billion stars await
to see if I shall fade
if that day becomes my fate
I won't care what comes to be
for I am free from your influence
as you try and pull me down
don't you know I laid at the bottom
and escaped the worst of it somehow
Whats the use of a follower
or a leader to guide control
telling them what they need to hear
to feel less fear than before
careful now not to fall asleep
for it could be your death
walking in the demonic trance
right over a rocky cliff
as you say your fighting for pretend beliefs
with no realization left for yoursellf
as if you were not even existing
except to follow the thought trails
of someone else.
I and the Other
Sadly since the dawn of humans there has been the I and the Other.
Indifference at best and hatred at worst, times primitive or advanced,
Dragging a child of another tribe away from the parents in complete
Indifference or hatred, to today's multifarious actions and reactions,
From bombing by air to a bomb on planes, or ignoring the plight of
Other humans on this planet. Take your pick on the work to do on the
I and the Other...............................................................................
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Did you need more lines, or hopefully fewer hatreds or indifferences to complete?
Past, present and future until those from space attack, a chemo-biological attack rap?
The only hope is Hope itself. We are better educated only if morality does not moulder.
If there is no hope then what is the point of writing any poetry even as bad as this?
World watches Humanity Fall;
Indifferences felt by All.
Few moments in History can compare;
Shockwaves rippled everywhere.
Each land of a different name;
Every Indifference is the same.
Suffering, Despair;
Proof that Nobody Cares.
Violence, Anger;
Skin Color Danger.
Hatred, Fear;
Hard Truths Faced this Year.
The People United;
No Longer Divided.
Joining Together;
Overcoming 'Stormy Weather.'
Every Father, Every Mother;
Teachers of 'Love Another.'
Every Sister, Every Brother;
Helping One Help The Other.
Companionship, Comfort
Eases The Impact of The Hurt.
Creativity, Hope;
Engineered New Ways to Cope.
Our Daughter, Our Son;
The Healing has Begun.
All the Lands, Across All the Seas;
All the Same in Times of These.
New Life, Old Heart;
Love Found Miles Apart.
Angrily Loving, Civil Unrests;
Violent Peaceful Protests.
New Enemy, Old Friend;
Only One in the End.
Black, White;
Not Wrong, Not Right.
Blind, Sight;
Presently We Write.
Rite, Oversight;
Historic rewrite.
Support, Unite;
Beautiful Highlight.
Fight, Fright;
Dark of Night.
Heroes, Spotlight;
Front Lines of Knight.
Guiding Love, Leading Light;
Hatred Overwrite.
Flames, Ignite;
Ignorance Invite.
Take my emotions from me and I shall forever be lifeless.
Hearing your heartbeat fills my loneliness, stays my fright.
Emotional venues are in my spirit, a true wonder of my life.
We have shared friendship, tenderness, passion, and heartache.
Only time will develop the envelope, of our intimacy combined.
Never take for granted our love and indifferences in our lives.
Death may take our mortal fervor our bond will remain evermore.
Excitements we share are beyond the sensual feelings we adore.
Relishing each second, and minutes of the years, months, days,
Only my heart can show the true devotion that you give so free.
From my touch, kisses, words I write you each year, you will know.
Yearning to hold and caress every part of your fundamental nature.
Our mature embodiment will guide us through true devotion.
Unanswered emotions will drive us to compete for satisfaction.
Reveling outwardly, securing the wonder of your love for me.
Let your soul know that I shall completely design my life for you.
Our love shall not be overthrown by any jury or court in this land.
Victory is yours, for the attorney of conviction, is unobjectionable.
Each year of my confinement to your love will be truly a wonder.