Long Intellectual Poems
Long Intellectual Poems. Below are the most popular long Intellectual by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intellectual poems by poem length and keyword.
Writing and movies
In my mind exist, people, I have not met
they are a friendly lot not giving to dispense advice
points to me to write that floats into my mind
even if it is not deeply intellectual.
Trash is the weed of writing, without it how else
can a movie be made?
Look what happened to Hemingway´s book of a poor fisher
who caught a big fish only to have it eaten by a shark?
They made a movie out of the book
an overweight actor got the job.
Trash, seen and admired by millions.
Take Dan Brown, he is the trashiest writer I know
the movie industry does him a favour making
his books into movies seen by millions of adoring fans.
The people in my head only point the anomaly out
not for them to be critical.
Religion existed before education
it was the one source of information
the one guiding light of inspiration
providing the only answers to question
Through evolution our knowledge has grown
yet it still provides wisdom, beneficial when known,
but it also holds a primitive ideology of old
impressed in the present because the past took a hold,
inevitably it's legacy gifts a legitimacy
that without wouldn't exist if it began this century
there are aspects relatable to middle aged brutality
from an alien world nothing like our present day reality
with inequality and control which protects insecurity
also exclusion that in todays world is wrong morally
holding humanity to beliefs of a former age and majority
long before our present day liberal freedoms and prosperity
it was a present in the past but now lacks intellectual property
we shouldn't base beliefs on a past when we knew less
a once uniting knowledge now way passed its best
that may become relevant when we finally rest
a belief system stuck while its believers progress
This forgotten god
Dwelling in rooms of infinity
In Corners lie the memories of creation
Brilliant and full of divintity
C h i l d r e n a t p l a y
T h e f o g o t t e n deities rages
Sacred and profane
Falls a c r o s s an Intellectual ape
L o s t a n d r o a m i n g
a burning city s c a p e
f o r g o t t e n are the gods
w a t c h i n g m a n Crucified
I t ' s s o u ls on an old rugged ruined Wooden cross
IRON N a i l s n i n e i n c h e s l o n g
Listen to creations s o n g
B u r y d e e p t h e s p i r es o f Longinus
Digging i s t h e word o f f l e s h
T o c l e a n s t h e e a r t h
in a Holy Rage
Sacred and profane
Creations faith in a n i n t e l l i g e n t a p e
Falls a tear of a brilliant sage
Drying in the distant w i n d s
Of the aftermath
A Nuclear b i r t h
Incinerations sins
forgotten gods c r i e s
Creations holocaustic lands c a p e
D r a g s t h e b o n e s
o f t h e immaculate Primates
P l a c e t h e m u p o n the
a l t e r o f creation
G o d s p a y m e n t i s i n d e m a n d
Forgotten gods plays
In room adrift
A far
Dwelling in rooms of infinity
Torturous separation. Intellectual blindness.
How your brilliance and intellectual dominance fascinate me.
Looking into your baby eyes wide and blue, I still see your knowing awareness, high voltage connections.
You laughed as a baby, with me, or at me?
How quicky did you discover our world's stupidity? When did your broken heart shear your funny bone, too?
Have you not yet accepted terms of this life, clicked the check box and exposed your vulnerability? Will you acceed to your lack of control? Will you reach out to the only concrete anchor we have? Will you embrace the lonely hopeless souls looking for the same relief you are desperate to know?
We all walk the same funeral march into our graves. Won't you pick up a piece of love, entertain some forgiveness, and carry some peace on the way to your certain destiny?
Rhythmic pose arcs lifting elegant ambience
Graceful dance enshrines artful renascence
Visceral posture invites emotional response
Festive celebration of aesthetic renaissance.
Attired in red and blue of simple elegance
Glorious style augments swirling excellence
Left arm risen high points gracious eminence
Finger tips lift vivid attire in quiet eloquence.
Golden bangles adorn wrists flirting in stare
A lone yellow flower crowns her silky hair
Folded right arm obstructs in a defiant dare
Index finger hides grief, eyes closed in prayer.
Head turned right, arched with sculpted flair
Tense neck muscles manifest muted despair
Open fingers gesture a stealth grievous flare
Air of intellectual grandeur opulently glares.
Ponder why the painter didn't show her eyes
Discover invisible pain vibrant colors disguise
Beneath the splendor lies a hidden surprise
Cultural dance-music echoes her silent cries.
September 22, 2017
Placed 1st:Poems that paint a picture
Painter: Anna Razumovskaya
Sponsor: Silent One
HM: Strand choice U contest by Brian Strand
Hands awaken! Speak out! Answer to sacred shouts,
subterranean whispering, to stars above rooftops—
thread sunlit branches with the chattering of a thousand leaves.
If fluxes and urgencies of confusion or death
should drawn you into your self-box, I say,
remember when one constructed self-prison fell away.
However you helped this forward,
do more of the same.
Be rain-hands, weeping, steeped in earth fragrance.
Be fingers in blossom, faces turning upward,
loves innumerable, rough-cut bedazzled—
unafraid to be splayed open.
Be pocketed hands, released to the welcoming wind—
multiplying there in mid-air,
riding the four directions.
Be hands of smoke and fire, descending and ascending like ragged bird-song—
effulgent, double-charged with surprise
and now even with mock surprises.
Start at the beginning, where you are.
Don’t be satiate with loll-lolling
recede wave’s tide, retreat back and back
into yourselves, until grown utterly intellectual and lumpish!
Now, you Human Being—you come awake also!
Sweep the furnishings from table. Upend the table lawlessly.
Bring the muscular, fleshy, feminine against the masculine and muscular.
Bring the masculine to the feminine. Bring friend to enemy,
estranged neighbor to the confidant. In a dance of pressing hands,
let subtle conversation play.
Ring all the tiny bells.
Stir the King and Queen of Remembrance.
In over-arching restraint, holding back one iota, so pure notes sound—
bring sunburst, sphere and harmony.
Make your entire body a listening board
forming therein—tender shape around which love
seed unfolds infinite spaces and then…
Spring awake! All to better dreaming
where hope and faith are undashed, not this dying.
O, hear me now! Hands, every which one of you,
with every human—never again sleep,
never abandon!
Empty eyes of the empirical sum
Empty heads of the ruling elite
Change the channel on
the TVs alternative news feed
Slip into the the next digital stream
Stream the unknown data
Into the world wide oblivion
Hear the open circuits buzz
As machinery Hummms
We bow our heads to empty icons
Emojis, iPhones and Windows to some
Empty Icons sit on vacant shelves
A hollow man, a false deity
Built of things best left unseen, unsung
Things in-between the seams of reality
We see these vacant eyes wondering the corridors
Of a steel Labyrinth in a Western Hemisphere
Alone in an mad American
empire of intellectual apes
Dream the dream of empire and empty icons
Empty eyes of the empirical sum
Sum of all parts divided apart
Empty heads of the ruling elite
Slip in the the next digital stream
Stream the unknown data
to the world wide oblivion dark!
most men
listen closely
to the language
of a woman's body,
but not closely enough
to a woman's heart.
But that's not how I do.
So tonight,
you have my undivided
attention,
and since there
is a misconception
about what really
turns a woman on,
allow me to inform you,
I know the art
of making love to a woman's
mind.
So tonight,
allow me to give your mind
a gentle massage,
and then travel lower
to your heart.
I'll take the time to do
what most men
don't think to do,
and that is look through
the windows of your soul,
and learn all the things
that really turn you on.
Most men
have one thing on their mind,
the body grind,
which is fine at the right place
and time.
But a woman's worth
is so much more.
Massage her mind.
Appreciate her thoughts.
Engage her
in deep intellectual conversations..
Stroke her intellect.
Introduce her to new revelations
on life and love.
Mentally entertain her
over dinner and a glass of wine
that's time well spent.
See,
most men
listen closely to the language
of a woman's body,
but not closely enough
to a woman's heart.
But that's not how I do,
and tonight,
you'll find you have
my undivided attention,
and let there be
no misunderstanding,
no misconception,
about what my intentions
are.
Tonight,
it's all about you.
Let's connect on a spiritual
level.
Allow me
to massage your mind
and then your heart.
Most men
listen closely to the language
of a woman's body,
but not closely enough
to a woman's heart.
In most villages away from the main citys
In 1950s say.? Life was that bit more gritty
Yet removed from 'power centers' and
Information bases, i see life was more restfull, the flow of events, went at acceptable paces? Here no connection through ideaology from the intellectual
Groups; leading down through politics and
Milatary boots, linked in; to learning centers, ensuring, speed of delivery, to all and any
'Even then, with consciousness, will, good
Sense, and approbation, disruptive and
Untried suggestions, were not dished out
Just arbitarily.' So even in these conurbations confined, dissconection offered, some respite we find, yet if you
Lived in the country? T'was much better there you lived, for life and not just some letters.'
Questions teased and awed
no doubt in amazement
Intellectual attributes I was
disturbed by my placement
soon my shackles of love fell,
Into pieces upon the ground
After his perpetual disappearances,
he couldn’t again be found
Recognize arising consciousness is
in my awakening
Eternal commitment, sealed with
a kiss not enabling
Shattered self of preservation,
would only undo
He was the perfection of all
existence but was it true
Only unveiled the nature
of justice and truth
I learned the difference between
what was flawed absolute
Beyond any description
enlightenment translate
He left me broken while feeling
I was disgraced
Loving him held a consequence
being getting lost
Ultimately his love held what
was too big of a cost