Long Intellectually Poems
Long Intellectually Poems. Below are the most popular long Intellectually by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intellectually poems by poem length and keyword.
I fell in love when I first peered,
Peered deep into her intentions.
She removed my blindfold,
Releasing my eyes from other people's deceptions.
Excited, no longer emotionally blind,
Or living in a daze.
I jumped for joy, intellectually free,
Free to escape this moral maze.
I became open, brave and honest,
Fun, spirited and daring.
Trying everything that was noble,
Noble like giving and sharing.
Giving important things she wanted,
Giving love, lust and security.
And sharing all sorts of truths,
All truths of utter impurity.
And then she told me her desire was to be,
Blindfolded away from the light.
To imprison her mind, she said it would be
An excitingly ferocious delight.
She loves her emotional blindness,
Intellectually in the black.
Now I’m free to chain her mind down,
With a quick, harsh, punishing smack.
Entered into "Twin Flames" contest by Nayda Ivette Negron, and Ranked First place
We live today in a world of great tumult
And of rising uncertainty and anxiety
Which pervade the world stage like a cancer
Despite soaring technological advances
Our environment and our home Earth
Are bearing an unimaginable burden
People are wondering what must be done
To right these wrongs and adjust our course
Before we turn the corner to “No Return”
Tyranny, Poverty, Disease, and War
Are still with us today since the beginning
Of time and are mankind’s greatest shame
God may be with us intellectually
But mankind must be self-reliant
To survive an inattentive, distant deity
People see answers to these enigmas
Sounds are made, echoes are heard
But nothing comes back in response
Frustration reigns supreme for many
Fear and anxiety multiple all concerns
There can never be easy answers
*******
Tyranny still reigns alive in many countries
As the actions of tin-eared dictators abound
And are on ample display for all to see
Poverty is still a shameful, terrible curse
Which afflicts the most unfortunate
And is paid lip service by the wealthy
Disease is a scourge still in our world
And still felt by those most in need
And never enough is done to change this
War is the ultimate insult to mankind
And its wide-felt swath and affliction
Plagues yet our modern, enlightened world
What to make of all these challenges
Is not easy for any of us to digest
And let alone understand why
Yet understand, comprehend we must
If we want a better world for all to live in
A Sisyphean task at its very best
Man still holds the key to make change
Positive and real for our troubled Earth
But can it ever be really so in the end
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
Schoeningen, Germany (October 16, 2014)
(Tercet unrhymed poetic format)
Emancipation From The Afterthought
Fastidious Faustian bargains that never seem to cease
Delirious young drug addicts who never seem to sleep
Insidious theories of conspiracy
about the recently deceased
Deciduous canopies of melancholy that fade by finding time for peace
Berated by the belligerence of a youthful propagandist
Conflated schools of the illiterate surrounded by a contrabandist
Sedated fools sit in their indifference as people suffer without bandwidth
Translated by the considerate thoughts elevated by the grandest
Monumental obstacles overcome through resilient defiance
Experimental genetic strands expand the reach of science
Temperamental mathematical minds define the times without reliance
Non judgemental psychologists are inclined to embracing the latest neuroscience
Calculations of misfortunes are inevitable in many a tragic instance encountering truth
Palpitations of a heart that’s retrospectively regretting its misspent youth
Amalgamations of the studious kinds forgetting to eschew the intellectually uncouth
Configurations of the coping masses mis-gendering the proof
Opinions always rife and flawed expressed without thought for feeling
Dominions of the highest energetic scores enforce and leave me reeling
Minions of a military force are subjugated without healing
While self opinion rules the internet I stand bereft and look back up toward the ceiling
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz
Maybe one day, I’ll get over you.
I’ll be able to walk through the crowded streets-
And pass you by without a single thought about you in my mind…
Maybe… one day … this will all make sense.
The way you conveniently avoid me in the dam school hallways.
While also conveniently taking the time to spam my inbox with useless messages we both know you are well above.
(I wait for them everyday.)
Then… silence
Nothing for a day, a week, then a month.
Your birthday comes.
Of course I greet you, I’m not terrible. But wow…
Are you angry at me???
(Message Received!)
(Heart React)(Laughing Emoji)
(Is there hope??)
Maybe one day the gap between us will close.
This seeming air choking me alive will finally stop.
I’ll open my mouth then everything right comes out.
No regrets.
Maybe, just maybe, things will go back to normal.
The endless intellectually stimulating conversations about anything under the sun.
The stupid jokes just naturally coming out.
That level of understanding.
Or maybe, things could be more.
Though it’s absolutely so stupid to think about.
It doesn’t make sense.
It feels so wrong.
Yet simultaneously so right.
I won’t deny it though.
I’ve thought about it.
A lot.
(My 3AM Spotify Playlist has seen it all.)
(A tear falls down my cheek).
Oh my gosh, I’m going insane.
Please help.
But maybe, most likely, this really will be a thing of the past.
Something that I will laugh about in an insane and crazy way.
I’ll show up to that ten year reunion, and maybe you will too (probably not).
We won’t ghost each other by then.
Perhaps a small polite wave then we continue on with our lives.
Maybe, by then, you’ll be with someone else.
I mean, you probably will; you seem like the practical type.
And by then, I probably will too.
But the memories will haunt me.
Maybe.
I’ll be stuck walking around THAT oval in one direction.
While you walk around in the opposite direction.
Calculating exactly when our paths will cross again.
(It doesn’t make any sense).
Because time and time again,
I don’t want this to be a thing of the past.
I don’t think I would be able to stand it.
Please.
But then again, maybe it will.
So at the end of today, tomorrow, and (maybe) forever, I’ll have to think about that “Maybe, one day…”
I guess.
There was this little mouse
Who was always being chased
By the most vicious of cats
Always bruised battered and abused
This little mouse said one day
I'm sick of this game with vicious cats
This time I'm going to strike back
I'm intelligent
I've played the cats game
And I know the rules
I'm going to bend the cats game
I'm going to play with these cats
Like these cats play with me
To see what's so stimulating about
Being a vicious cat
with a scared little mouse
to play with and terrorize
So she started playing this bent game
And she's getting so intellectually stimulated
And reward receptors are going off in her head
And the little scared mouse thought to herself
Oh hell yes. I really like this game instead
The majority see normality in their conformity of reality
think the minority less ordinary living independently of society
so the predominantly found commonality to follow the herd unquestionably
as those unobjectionably herded sheep live undeveloped intellectually
for the safety to be safely integrated with humanity
in a delusional state of superiority to protect their sensitivity
but to truly go where you please is a sign of your integrity
when you choose to have your own views and be standing for them separately
risk the social repercussions which return your way indefinitely
when you learn that they lack concern as they have no way of thinking free
the cursing gift that you live with that doesn’t need authority
or popularity through obscurity avoiding any form of scrutiny
knowing social approval’s only useful if you want anonymity
Horse Power
A great white Steed, carries the strength of –
The fabled Unicorn, carries the mythical passion of -
The legendary Pegasus, carries ( on wings ) the dreams of –
The Man, in love carries ( on his back ) the weight of –
A Mare, of exotic beauty carries not ( a concern of ) –
for what these fine Animals, carry to her – Love !
Horse power exists, not in a world of air waves,
micro waves, radio waves, solar waves, psychic waves,
the wave of cosmic consciousness and goodbye waves .
With all these horses, permeating the air, how one behaves -
sanely or insanely - to the pull of Love’s forces ?,
is a mystery to many a man and all the above horses
B. J. “A” 2
December 3rd 2008
Fairy Tale
Is this a dream ?, that breaths life into my brain .
Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Juliette, no, Moneca her name.
Romeo, Don Juan, Casanova, Eros, I would claim
to be the inspiration for my Love’s game.
These passionate heroes, ooze a desire to express,
to let love flow from every atom, molecule, nucleus,
every pore, from the very fiber of their soul, their being
and nothing less, would we be seeing,
radiating energy on beams, on rays from spirit, and eyes.
My soul, my spirit, wants to touch, but only cries
as love walks on by - as shapeless clouds fill the skies.
Realization comes – love’s expression are in the brain –
a synaptic act – ecstasy for some, for me, only pain !
Electric impulse, energizes Cupid’s bow – guide his arrow
towards me, not ! my life to shallow, my being to narrow,
in the mind, in the eyes of the one I seek to love
who says, who claims, who believes she is so far above
this old man she toys with, plays with and cares not
for who I am, emotionally, intellectually, for what I’ve got
I can not seem to sleep passed this dream / nightmare.
I can not seem to sleep through this dream / nightmare
B. J. “A” 2
December 3rd 2008
The highborn woman and her sons.
An old woman has died she was famous for having no opinion
about anything; talking about “families” soft as flannel patting
a child’s stately bum.
One of her sons has taken her place at the top of the table.
A rigid man with a complaining mien has to use an intermediate
to get his rather trite opinions across.
His mistress, once a reviled woman who came before and after
his wife, who tragically died, but the public forgives her
thanks to sycophantic newspapers views are companion sits
at the top table.
The new enemy in this idyllic world is his youngest son’s wife
a hurricane from America, detested by the public for stealing
this charming but intellectually limited man, looking for a sign
of distress, and actually are encouraging, a marital breakup.
The people at large and the papers they read do not understand
how obscene they are; as the ship of fools sails on and on.
Watery eyes pour puppy chow into a bright and shiny new dish.
Tears alone most surely cannot amount to that of wonderful filtered water—this doesn't change the fact that I am outright crying—(please don't tell).
She named her Luna and I fell into puppy love.
This puppy, of only eight weeks old, is already the size of many full grown small breeds.
She's a Pit/Rot mix and I am in love with her.
I'm a bit of a softy, in general, but this particular animal is to die for.
She's too young yet to properly potty train.
We have found the back patio to be the early learning facility.
It has been working quite well as we have obviously been blessed with an above average intellectually gifted Luna girl.
Luna the tuna is the easiest rhyme and all the made up words to match are made of pure sugar, honey and love.
Do I recommend this particular breed of dog?
Well, I've only had her about 2 weeks now but my final answer is yes; definitely.
Maybe we just got lucky?
It is possible that my girlfriend is just that pet savvy that she just knew...
Being the man that I am, paying attention to nearly everything (I mean nothing), hopped into the car and she said, "Are you ready to go to P.A."?.
As if I had a choice.
Drive three hours to buy a dog we've yet to meet and pay $300.00 for..?
That's exactly how it took place.
On the ride back from acquiring our new companion, Luna and I snuggled up and I was and have since been in puppy love.
Most of the time.
They poop and pee and chew and nip and eat the nastiest things like their very own poop.
Bad breath is temporary as they work through their process of teething.
Luna-girl
This puppy that I somehow ended up being her dad.
Is the best thing that has happened to me for a while.
Luna is her name.
She is only 8weeks old.
We share a common bond that is simply described as . . .
Puppy Love
4/7/17
Stupendously brilliant beyond compare,
This is how Mr. Right views himself,
Though intellectually disabled beyond repair,
He has fame, fortune, and great health.
When he decided to take up the thespian craft,
Handsome with a chiseled body of course,
But upon the stage, he'd make others laugh,
He would throw things about using brute force.
Alien he was too good humor it would seem,
When someone told a joke he would anger instead,
While everyone else would be laughing with screams,
And though he would deny of having a big head.
He swore he never drank or took drugs of any kind,
Addicted to himself Mr. Right was doing fine.
/|\