Long Inference Poems
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Retrospective Inclinations
Inclinations toward the philosophical nature of mankind
Imitations of awe and wonder and the subtly refined
Insinuations of an action that is considered ill-defined
Illuminations of the atmosphere that circulates in her mind
Catastrophic consequences for those who refuse to consider cost
Misanthropic measures as they contemplate what they have lost
Philharmonic overtures that adorn the cultured and the loft
Telescopic telomeres that combine technology as she seems soft
Incorporations of conversations that imply a sense of dread
Consolidations of invitations that leave the bride unwed
Palpitations of consecrations that conjure inside her head
Affirmations of visitations that come and go from her bed
Luminous possibility among the distorted convolution
Furious credibility that promotes a transfigured delusion
Spurious eligibility as she writhed about in confusion
Injurious sensibilities that draw unnecessary conclusions
Awakening contemplations that preside in elevated thought
Mistaking conversations for something that can be bought
Berating intonations for a concept that needs to be fought
Negating imitations of a notion that is over wrought
Visionary eloquence forming from the twighlight sky
I am weary of the inference as the tears well in my eyes
Timothy Leary fades into irrelevance as the earth begins to die
Commissary for the petulance I feel from the nature of mankind
Radiance and insight fight for grace and kindness to emerge undefeated
The gradients of light that fractal outwards when repeated
Innocence and delight combine to have the malevolent deleted
Convalesce inside the retrospective thought that you have completed
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025
God
1 “whom he hath appointed heir of all things”,
2 “by whom also he made the worlds“,
3 ”Who being the brightness of his glory”,
4 “and the express image of his person”,
5 ”upholding all things by the word of his power”,
6 ”by himself purged our sins”,
7 ”sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high“,
Hebrew 1;2-3
When you come to the inference by time,
where innocence marks its own maturity,
as questions seeks for answers,
when curiosity tantalizes obscurity,
with chronicles of gone bye years,
when reflections sends the beams to the mind,
and sparks congregates as reasons,
when conjectures forms a void within,
As you drift to that realm of confusion,
When the mind cannot withstand the torrents of thoughts,
When the world cannot find the compass of your being,
and to all you are dispirited in the ocean of life,
when petulant mutates to unseen rebellion,
when ominous canker and contortion hatched on vision
when you demystify evolution by superior argument,
and find the flaws of imposed science,
When you reach the borders of earth's vain.
Where mortality mocks your toils.
Sink your ship at His Cross,
There is nothing wrong with Jessica
I don't know any Jessica
If I did she would be smart and smell like flowers
You know, the living ones with pink petals
Her hair would change color at the beauty shop
She could be bald but I think not
People would love her just the way she is if she were
I like the name so much I would have a bunch
I will name my next ten children Jessica
And take them out to lunch if they exist
What's in a name
Jessica
Authors note: It is true. The author does not know a Jessica. He apologizes for any negative connotation or inference the reader might have or construe from the title for instance and to any one who, by chance, might be called Jessica. Please look beyond that and enjoy the poem.
Aha: a Poetic Noetic Instantiation in Three Acts
rushing inference, imminent insight
suddenly it’s clear, a gut feeling—
swooning, reeling,
cross-connected hemispheres
syncopated, reverberated, totally aware
open byways, ahh blue-sky days, making up my mind
synapses shiver, axons quiver, dendrites deliver,
’lectrik neurons fire—suddenly—in time
aha! aha! oh gawd I see—I ran around ’n cried—
a fool I’ve been; all along it’s there, right in front of me
with a grin ’n a nod ’n twinkly-looking ’round
raised my arms ’n slapped my thighs
’n made a ruckus sound—
donned my hat ’n set it skewed
upon my big bright head,
set off to town in an uplifted mood,
while whistling a sweet sound—
forgot what I had found
#
there’s a hole in my head
where the wounds of reason seep;
all words are dead inside my head—
what’s left is dark ’n deep
@
I’ll always live
and always die
on the event horizon
of my mind’s eye,
where the flash
of neuronal fires
flowers into
sudden epiphany— --
Sighs yet again
a fold here,
a crease there
origami wings
that are limp,
drenched
looking pretty lonely and pathetic
under, that, crying, sky, , , ,
, , , ,
/////
It ironically fits well
into the day that is filled with cracks,
that spills into the evening----
s h a t t e r e d eggshells
that can't be beared to be buried,
only placed carefully with the dried leaves...
If only for a moment,
I keep my cradle of tears at bay,
as I let the moon do the weeping for me.
A mental tracking back
of the weeks, days, hours, minutes;
Let the scientist return to inference
Walk back to the time of hope and grief--
The dendrobium. The grasshoppers. The twisted bonsai.
Looking behind,
the footprints
are still there... . . . ..
Wash them away
with waves of laughter,
Erase all vestiges of me.
Forget I was ever here;
that should be easy
...I never meant much to you anyway
214a22801012016
This is a mash-up of sorts of several writes of mine. I stitched it up with some lines. Very rough, I know, just felt like squishing some of my writes & edits together.
When we encounter hieroglyphs in stone,
we don’t suggest erosion as the cause.
The information in our chromosomes
did not arise from randomness and flaws.
The character of outcomes left behind,
encoded messages, in form complex,
in strings of DNA point to a mind,
through inference, the rational detects.
The likelihood, from chaos, order reigned
indeed requires a flight to fancy grand,
an ordered row of ostriches arranged
with heads, some up, some buried in the sand.
The creature won’t abide Creator’s tunes,
Instead give flight to chance or else impugns.
——————
for the Flight Two Poetry Contest
sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
written on 06/19/2022
Believe not in lies in this, a time of deceiving, for;
Far too soon, would run fair chance, with sidence; its errant way.."
I've heard ears of clay. will oft 'reck not of the hour;
Though sun-gold were to fall, in its bursts and showers;
As would molten fables.. 'Cross ripening fields of wheat,
And so must I now on alone to dance??
Ee'n whithin these daze, of fruitful summer sweet??
Sparing not even the seconds glance.."
Oh." but bring to me your eagerness fleet,
For tis the very richness in its flower.
“Come.! Pare with me scripts each day; and hour."
With your honesty a sustenance; step into every inference.."
That waiting beauty be not kept at bay..!
copyright Joe Maverick 2012
Convoluted Possibilities
Constellations of configurations that capture my fading breathe
Elevations of consummations that reflect on all that’s left
Inclinations towards imitations that leave me feeling bereft
Commiserations for the consternations as a life lingers upon death
Collusions of covert planning that draw nefarious conclusions
Intrusions of introverted inclinations that produce clarity of thought amidst the confusion
Infusions of concert performances that are based on artistic delusions
The fusion of science and geometry that defy mathematical protrusions
Designations of grace and contemplation amidst a crystal stream
Resignations of place and contestations that induce the quiet man to scream
Conflagrations of misplaced elevations that produce a lucid dream
Amalgamations of disgraced technocratic awe captured in a meme
Beautification in the aftermath of philosophical inquiry and inquisition
Stupefaction at the polymath contriving his expertise without contrition
Communication flowing toward the empath as she absorbed the emotional vision
Calcification of the psychopath devoid of feeling amidst their precision
Morality and consequence above constellations of burning stars
Tonality and influence that drive around in expensive cars
The fallacy of innocence exposed to malevolence from afar
Polarity that is the inference of the political players counting cards
An essence of retrospect that stirs true emotion to begin to rise
Convalescence of intellect that brings a tear upon my eyes
Incandescence of a dialect burning like a candle in demise
Reminiscence of a moment in time that memory causes her to cry
Affluence and greed among the overpriviledged few
Common sense and need preside over the ageing and the new
Malcontents that feed on the morsels of the gossip in the stew
A mind that’s dense but beautiful leads the crowd and that is you!
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
The alchemy of truth
may be from a particular perspective
or colored by youth
and sprinkled with objective
For your truth can hold your own view
your lens through which you see the world
And naivety can lead astray
and reality fall subject to that doom
And you may not have the ability yet
to completely read the room
When you don't have wisdom
You have less fear and conclusions are reached quickly
But life is so much more complex
and taken in context its sticky
Was that what was really meant
or did it happen by chance
Was it deliberate inference
or laid out by happenstance
Most times most things are not architected
they happen in real time whim
And though the outcome can be devastating
the creation is less of a sin
What leads to what
and how can that happen
isn't always clear to see the cause and effect
And so truth be known,
good intentions implode
and things go off track on their own
So don't hang the actors with the act
they alone did not write the script, it's a fact
Life is all improv
with a heavy dose of chaos
And giving to much credence to the feelings caused
can ruin what may be right there
A living pachinko machine that happened to play out
that way, this time, here
The alchemy of truth includes the lens - Artimus 9/24/23 (C) Susan Manley
Combinations of Catastrophy
Combinations of catatstrophic scenarios everywhere I look
Invocations of prehistoric evidence collides with the big book
Complications that are caustic that sit in their niches and their nooks
Calibrations that the agnostic makes as he theologically cooks
Annotations of beauty upon a classical music score
Connotations refuting why there’s so much to be living for
Computations that are computing why we’re always looking for more
Permeatations polluting the old, sick, vulnerable and poor
Believable intonations from a child wanting to be heard
Conceivable imitations from a comedian repeating the absurd
Retrievable limitations from someone trying to preach the word
Foreseeable complications that could be prevented if it weren’t all so ill learned
There’s an evening with a mix of difference, strangeness and the unusual of demeanour
As they’re seeming to play with the inference that they’d prefer a worker to a dreamer
While I sit there in a conference about why the ocean isn’t cleaner
It’s difficult to evade the nonsense while your talking politely with a screamer
Multitudes of humans being just that and trying to raise themselves up from the ground
Interludes of a laboratory rat chasing the wheel round and around
Magnitudes of masses converging that are bordering on profound
Altitudes of heights now deserving of this disconcerting sound
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz