Long Inertia Poems
Long Inertia Poems. Below are the most popular long Inertia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Inertia poems by poem length and keyword.
Newton's Laws of Motion
First Law (Inertia): An object at rest stays at rest, and an object in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an external force.
Law of Thermodynamics
Second Law: Entropy, a measure of disorder, always increases in a closed system.
I yearn to taste pine and cinnamon,
dripping from the skyline, like sunsets amidst roaring rain,
and gloaming gold before surging storms.
I am a confined mermaid, aching to kiss the rose-wine beams of your dulcet dusk ~ peering through the glass of an aquamarine aquarium,
afraid to break this lethargic prison,
comfortably paralyzed in its familiar coldness.
But would a captive heart cradle anything
beyond the friction
that homes the weight of woes and nothingness?
For between the mass of caged dreams
and the air of resistance,
I find no force of hope to reignite
the waning spark within my soul.
And I ponder: would Luna’s compass
guide a procrastinating poet to rhyme,
pulled by the gravitational prompt,
like spring tides facing the parallel phase
of the sun and moon,
engrossed in a magnetic field of mutual adoration?
Or am I to forever breathe within this motionless existence,
drowning in an abyss of aimless waves,
adrift in the ricocheting rhythm
of stagnant steel
and salt-drenched equilibrium?
As thoughts spiral in cacophonous stillness,
like a marine carousel.
I am ~
a paused silhouette;
a museless slave to timeless angst~
watching the accelerated heat of unstoppable ink~
soar above my sea of silenced sapphires,
as I remain lost in the warmth of permafrost peace,
trapped in the numbness of nirvana.
Perhaps someday, the currents within
this aquatic confinement
will pierce through the icy enclosure ~
to steer me to an oasis
where freedom flows in bluest frequencies.
after “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” (also sometimes called “Daffodils”) by William Wordsworth
I wandered weightless as a feather,
a muted plume from mourning dove.
A tuft afloat in breezy weather
connected now to skies above;
as long as winds will carry me
from over fields and out to sea.
My glad esprit more free than birds,
detached from mortal needs I fly,
where spirits long to share their words
among the songs in clouds, I sigh...
for Earth was never this composed,
this high I travel unopposed.
Oh cumulus, a meadow white,
I feel at home atop your waves
illuminant, in purest light.
Mid savored heights my mem’ry saves
inertia of the clover green
and shiver of the water’s sheen.
Such riches now I do enjoy
in solitude away from fray.
I'm free from living once so coy;
in spirits’ realm I long to stay,
for then, myself I will fulfill
with gild as gold as daffodil.
Lift your celestial gaze to be amazed in Wonder
As has Ptolemy, then Copernicus and Kepler after
Who are the capricious Gods who dance in wander
To revere Mercury? Venus? Mars? Saturn? Jupiter?
Ptolemy imagined a play staged at his own residence
There the Gods heaved upon us all their vain existence
Trapped by Humanity's Ego, blind to exposed evidence
His glowing Hearth lifting higher embers of negligence
Copernicus heralded the inspirational spark of sacred denial
Orbits dared to be spun into the ire wrath of Church reprisal
Hush your Truth. Mankind cannot, will not be the Sun's disciple
Calculations implore? Observations explore? ASTRONOMICAL!!!
Kepler awoke to his divine intervention lifting the veil of Dogma
He questioned atop ashes of descent burned without anesthesia
A revolution uproar of Ellipses stretching in variable speed inertia
The Gravity of his Truth pulling inextricably at undisputable raw data
The moral of this recounting is to shun the fantasies touted by Elves
Be wise. Be curious. Gather the courage to see Truth for yourselves
“Let silence teach”, the master said
“that soul may be by God’s hand fed,
whence graced by His touch, we ascend,
on choosing to be by love led.”
Inertia cajoles us to blend
with the crowd that we may defend,
attachments to which our heart clings,
though all that begins will soon end.
Time holds its breath when our heart sings
and it is in these little things,
moments when our ego dissolves,
from our very core, soul’s light springs.
When head to heart power devolves,
the scent of love conflicts resolves,
whence thus doing nothing at all,
our true Self as God’s spark evolves.
When we see, we know and recall,
our luminous Self standing tall
and breathless beholding this sight,
we’re blown away in a bliss squall.
Wonderstruck beholding God’s light,
the flame that banishes the night,
we are at peace, feeling complete,
heart dancing with unbound delight.
There are things that we sow, and we do not desire to reap their harvest.
In fact, we might later engender aversions to the distaste we created.
But there is a fixed law that says, 'we reap what we sow'.
Inertia remains until an outside force alters its status.
Inertia must be a rarity in our vast volatile universe
because it seems that everything out there is in motion.
Commitment and consistency are always welcome,
But repetition that hopes for change yields a
sameness that is tantamount to insanity.
Dark, demonic, and horror books and movies,
I cannot abide and refuse to read or watch them.
To certain things, I must close my mind.
Our mortal being desires what it sees and feels.
Whether informed or ignorant of the actual cost,
Often, we do not desire to pay the hefty price.
I have an aversion to inhumane traditions.
Does it serve the few and enslave the many?
Is it demoralizing, humiliating, and racist?
I have an aversion to half-heartedness.
Should we not give it our all or not at all?
Sincerity alone does not make it holy.
And I think insincerity is repulsive.
Clearly, Hypocrisy has no winners.
I find narcissism most repugnant.
We have been told that fools rush in
where angels fear to tread. Some fears are
healthy. If the traffic light is red, wait.
Have respect for the ways of Rose as well as Ray.
If an entity is not broken, leave it be; Let it lay.
However, if it is broken, fix it now without delay.
Heroism is earned, not self-proclaimed.
Once upon a time, bleeding the ill was
a medical procedure that later proved
to be totally worthless and deadly.
I suppose that water takes the course of least
resistance because she feels that it is essential
to keep flowing. May we be conduits through which
God's love flows like an ever-flowing river.
092422PSCtest, A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest.
Strand. 5P
In a dreary mood, bent and broken,
With an ailment that crippled my life
I lay bedridden for many a month
With every muscle weakened by arthritis
And every nerve radiating the pain
Dull were the days and sore were the nights,
Time slouched on in mechanical beats,
Mind devoid of any buoyant thoughts,
Senses shut to every cheery throb of life,
I lay awake, day and night staring at the ceiling.
Never a smile lighted up my face,
Nor a gleam of hope brightened up my brain.
Inertia crept over from head to foot.
I had long lost my zest for life.
With my life sap drained out like an empty well,
All I felt was the burn of scalding drought.
Nothing could move my grief laden soul,
None could lift the weight off my back,
Embers of fire sparked from the anvil of my heart,
Heaves of sighs escaped my parched mouth,
I wriggled and writhed in unspeakable pain,
My spirits sank deeper into a slithery marsh,
I saw around only a thick pall of gloom,
Or was it a projection of my own self?
Anguish gnawed my nerves and sinews,
Flames of pain danced within my spine,
I felt my head wobbling and reeling,
And the heavy weight of lead all around my neck.
Felt being pushed down to abysmal depths,
And the octopus tightening its tentacles all around.
“Who on earth will set me free?
What on earth can lift me up?”
With thundering force, the question shook my weary self.
I sprang to my feet and broke the binding chains,
I found I was but in self – exile,
A captive entrapped within boundless space.
I saw the door opening to infinite lengths,
And the arched horizon looming larger than life,
Unbroken, I spread my wings and propelled up,
And darted through the clouds to distant shores.
Who would have thought, my life would change this way!
(Own Story)
HORSE GALLOPING
A lone horse galloping vibrant on open wide meadow
striking wild thorny bushes, feral grasses
with hard tilted hooves.
It is a saddle horse without any rider.
Glossy skin was shining under dazzling Sun in sizzling noon.
Silky curly brownish mane dancing in hot breeze.
Has it abandoned its rider or in search of its owner?
Driven by irresistible force of inner inertia.
Scorching blazing Sun is ahead, not a pleasant venture.
Bathed in tremendous heat
Yet not losing its proud arrogant posture.
Why is the aristocrat dynamic runner so restless careless?
Yet may not be aimless.
Some ethereal dream mesmerizing the noble animal
to reach Paradise, its goal.
03/31/20
Fourth Place
'Some Paradise Where Horses Go' Contest by Michelle Faulkner
The Little voice inside us..
The little voice inside us often tells us..
You cannot accomplish
You cannot commit
You cannot succeed
You cannot love
Must we ignore the little voice?
No..
Still it remains as the little voice
Just when it had disappeared..
It often returns with a vengence
I need to acknowledge this little voice
The little voice is causing me into a state of inertia
Inertia is completely frozen
The melting process won't occur
Frozen solid in one's mind
Illiminate frozen inertia
Bring forth acknowledgment
Living life filled with love
Shall banish life filled with fear
Love and fear...
The two forces of life of which are opposites..
War for our souls
Inexplicable reason crying foul,
Final war for - the soul of man
The ironic scarcity of happiness
Mass contract killing sanctioned, tho allowed
And simply, all, just because
- they can..?
Search for neither limit bound
Across the Earth dimensions fold,
For spiritual trap - nonetheless
In pictures, movies, of Cabaal
Trickery, sorcery forever sold
manufactured wars through constant lies
Promoting, funding - of all sides
Conflict of purpose truth be told
Ignoring victims and their cries
Banksters printing, Profit making
FIAT currency usuary system
Maintaining undue persistent stress
Corporates in unison with
government a formality
This their form - insipid totality
Choosing their vehicle to oppress
Pandemic nonsense lying stats,
why would they want this - for us?
Revealing, but exposed no less
We cannot carry on in this way,
cycle of torment to ourselves
Prediction now of man's success
All wars satanic so they say
But most poignantly now, this final one, though it never relented, it never went away..,
Are all deniers idiotic then?
Or does their salary then depend
on such intended pay for play..
Rhetorical license words suspend,
All the things that however defile us, including private and mass hysteria,
And disbelief - amongst other things, to which there appears no end,
Freed from mesmerised compliant inertia,
For spiritual Gnosis be regained,
But willing and able all shall pass,
Protect oneself properly, the one true intellectual property, that always had remained,
Entire matrix paradoxical lies
Nothing is lost, but yet forbidden
to the unknowing crippled masses,
- remember..
All is possible
Although it is yet,
all..
- still hidden.
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
During covid 19 lockdown
October 2020
The PoetTree on Telegram
Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared
My heart and mind don't align
I yearn for dreams to yield but vegetate
Putting off things for the very next day
My willpower is always at its lowest
Laziness floods my habits and goals
Until I drown in unsuccess.
The bed, so invitingly soft
It tempts me into a languid slumber
While a half-finished coffee mug
Sits cold on my window sill
My mobile phone, a dangerous distraction
As I scroll hours through social media when awake
Squandering my precious time away
My mind keeps dwelling on the past
Inundating memories of joy, sorrow and regrets
Serving no purpose
Then I slid into an eternity of pleasant thoughts
Of how to spend the next day of my life.