Long Interjections Poems
Long Interjections Poems. Below are the most popular long Interjections by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Interjections poems by poem length and keyword.
Canopy’s of Emotion and Consecrations of Reality
A botanical canopy of human emotion
The preservation of the wildlife inside the ocean
A consecration of sacred vows that culminate your devotion
The invitation to contemplate as you consider abstract notions
Turquoise reflections beneath an enlightened sky
The pain of the dejections that protected you from a lie
The rain clouds of perception that pierce your heart to make you cry
The unbelievable interjections of thought that constantly question why
Supernatural gifts pushing the boundaries of what we know
Factual shifts in how we represent the information we want on show
A lover lifts his head in the melted light of the afterglow
A state of constant dread as we interrupt the natural flow
Firmaments of shimmering beauty raining down from a sunlit morning
Wonderments of time unfolding before your eyes as a vision is forming
Achievements of unheard of refine only to serve as a constant warning
Of the imminent decline we’re facing when confronted with Global Warming
Divisive opinions colliding on the parliamentary floor
Incisive decisions deriding as we wonder what all this conflict is really for?
Indecisive teenagers contriving their image while they’re constantly seeking more
Derisive divisions forming at the Presidents front door
A culmination of considerations that challenge the status quo
An invocation of alliteration as we express more than we think we know
A consummation of deliberation as we form conclusions that just won’t go
A formation of imitations as we reveere those who rose above the low
Don’t perpetuate the societal state of heirarchical exclusion
Or deliberate on what we venerate to reduce the mass confusion
While we consummate the virtues we rate that break through the universal delusion
We invigorate the fierce debate that seeks to eviscerate illusion
Canopy’s of Emotion and Consecrations of Reality
A botanical canopy of human emotion
The preservation of the wildlife inside the ocean
A consecration of sacred vows that culminate your devotion
The invitation to contemplate as you consider abstract notions
Turquoise reflections beneath an enlightened sky
The pain of the dejections that protected you from a lie
The rain clouds of perception that pierce your heart to make you cry
The unbelievable interjections of thought that constantly question why
Supernatural gifts pushing the boundaries of what we know
Factual shifts in how we represent the information we want on show
A lover lifts his head in the melted light of the afterglow
A state of constant dread as we interrupt the natural flow
Firmaments of shimmering beauty raining down from a sunlit morning
Wonderments of time unfolding before your eyes as a vision is forming
Achievements of unheard of refine only to serve as a constant warning
Of the imminent decline we’re facing when confronted with Global Warming
Divisive opinions colliding on the parliamentary floor
Incisive decisions deriding as we wonder what all this conflict is really for?
Indecisive teenagers contriving their image while they’re constantly seeking more
Derisive divisions forming at the Presidents front door
A culmination of considerations that challenge the status quo
An invocation of alliteration as we express more than we think we know
A consummation of deliberation as we form conclusions that just won’t go
A formation of imitations as we reveere those who rose above the low
Don’t perpetuate the societal state of heirarchical exclusion
Or deliberate on what we venerate to reduce the mass confusion
While we consummate the virtues we rate that break through the universal delusion
We invigorate the fierce debate that seeks to eviscerate illusion
Germany, 1964
In barracks bare of beauty
I lay restlessly in bed. Around, a rife
of lifeless characters
from some Saturday charade
sullenly invite me to their ghastly parade.
I merely pull my blanket higher up
and blatantly yell out "Shaddup!"
A spot of flesh unknown to sun itches
so I scratch. Musty curtains run
in dusty ripples on their pulleys.
The room overflows with bullies
but I turn over in my bunk
and choose to spurn,
scratching a spot that doesn't itch.
I glance up. The light bulb top is dirty.
I reach up, unscrew the bulb,
lay silent in my patch of dark
and try, vainly, to extinguish
a more persistent spark.
The air around me reeks of smoke and beer,
is heavy with the weight of discontent.
I lie still darkly fomenting
an impotent dislike
for atmospheres like this one.
I writhe upon my squeaky cot and dun
and growl like some ancient,
burly, and barbaric Hun.
Vehemently, I vocalize my intense tension
with interjections "nice people" would never mention.
How many times must a scripture be read to us?
So many ways they suck em in to follow and trust.
We're led to believe that heaven is made of gold.
I say heaven is without don't trust what they`ve sold.
The purest of hate, most evil is Wiccan turned catholic black in red.
The weak, the blind, the burning glazed in dread.
All sheep follow the next, like that life of a drone.
The simple mind cannot help itself if it`s left all alone.
The priest, the pope, the father's, and every single bishop.
A fact them fu*kers spread suffering, I've had enough.
No longer can I just sit and have faith in a holy religion.
There's one thing I know, and that`s they have never given...
A holy father, or a graceful joyous place.
My mind expansion is like that of cosmic outer space.
Misplaced every single person that I loved that has died.
I know cuz I've tried, and tried and have only cried.
Most times I was wretched in my life.
But I was awakened so I'd realize such strife.
How many fathers would kill their own son with such brutal torture just to be a God.
Surely you must find this interesting, wicked, and odd.
You should look harder when there's much more mayhem.
Why do you continually contribute and constantly pay him?
The same song for 7411 years.
Is so weird, as the sight of the Seer`s
How many times can the same story be the savior of man.
Every age span gives life the same fu*king hand.
I've been to the place of my real grace,
It is not what you think.
It took lots of time,
It tore the deepest of pain.
For me to vomit the master of the my insane.
Took it all in then realized my misguided path of destruction.
They perform black magic under these cathedrals of corruption.
It was me who was wrong to have been so disarrayed.
Where was your God each and every time a child or woman was betrayed.
By a church of child molesters and the torturous murders of women throughout it`s entire existence,
There`s an absence of god`s love and his power he displayed Egypt, no interjections like exodus with no interference nor his holy assistance .
Slipping away.
Drifting into a state of unconsciousness
Where the id, the ego and the superego merge in their own perverted world:
Free of inhibition;
Free of intentional thought;
Free of other senses interfering with the unfettered mind.
No physical barriers;
No interjections from other’s prejudices –
Just our own pre-conceived biases and misconceptions.
Rapid eye movements indicating an active mind;
While the body rests, the imagination lives on.
Colors? Perhaps.
Based on experiences and reality? Possibly. Probably not.
Free to dream in any form – no rules apply.
Mostly forgotten when consciousness returns;
Much to our dismay.
When words are running rampant
You just have to rein them in.
By lassoing a few of them,
At least you can begin.
They’ll buck and kick and race around,
Defiantly at first,
Especially the adjectives –
You know that they’re the worst.
But once you calm them down and let
The verbs and adverbs mix,
The nouns and pronouns may decide
To use their bag of tricks…
Releasing prepositions
And conjunctions by the score.
You want some interjections?
Hey! You couldn’t ask for more.
If all the parts of speech are caught
You don’t have an excuse.
Without a poem resulting,
You should go and let them loose.
So string them all together
And you’ll possibly succeed
In creating, from these random words,
Some poetry to read.
The Departing of The Heart
Salutations for the sound of mind and poverty of heart
Reparations that don’t come through in time to rectify the start
Commiserations for the ones who find it hardest to eventually part
Palpitations of another heart that cannot perceive the concept that it must depart
Military consequences that send the young men out to war
Conciliatory influences of the leaders who target hiring of the poor
Crematory inferences necessary as they knock on heavens door
An Adversary without recompense that helps me get up off the floor
Kindness for the people that are on daily parade
Blindness from the steeple as we play Holy charades
They Find less sympathy for the feeble as they huddle close and afraid
Passing through the eye of a needle as the ferryman gets paid
Interjections from the galley as the defendant begins to cry
Objections in a midnight alley as the amendment causes him to deny
Rejections of the black sheep in a family as without her flock she’ll surely die
Comprehensions of the urgency that communicate in sighs
The End by Elizabeth Moroz
I’m having a garage sale
Though I don’t have a garage.
Come check out all my offerings –
You’ll see a strange montage.
I have similes and metaphors
So old that they’re clichés.
There are sentences and verses
Budding writers can rephrase.
From a stack of nouns quite towering
Are so many you can choose;
Mix and match with all my adjectives –
You simply cannot lose.
There’s a vat of verbs just waiting,
Some with adverbs still attached;
And a box of prepositions,
With its lock no longer latched.
There might be a spare conjunction
Hiding underneath the rhymes;
As for interjections – Ha!
They’re rare as Mercury-head dimes.
Yet if you pay me a visit,
You might find the words you need;
I’ve been cleaning up my clutter
And there’s good stuff, guaranteed.
So come pick through my possessions
‘Cause I’m lightening my load.
Then feel free to write a sonnet
Or a limerick or ode.
For garage sales held by poets
Are, to me, the most inviting,
Since your purchases may point you
To the pathway paved with writing.
Ilene Bauer
September 6, 2012
(this was accidentally deleted from my poems list, so i wanted to reenter it)
Open Word Classes
In language there are classes, we are told,
Of words both new and old.
Nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs too,
And among them, open word classes few.
Nouns, the names of things and beings,
Verbs, actions that give them meanings.
Adjectives, describing how things are,
Adverbs, telling when and where they occur.
But in the open classes, there is more,
Words that keep growing, like an open door.
Interjections, expressing emotion pure,
Conjunctions, connecting clauses sure.
Prepositions, showing position and relation,
And articles, signaling a specific sensation.
These open classes, ever-changing and free,
Reflect the dynamism of language, you see.
For new words can be added with ease,
As culture and technology shift and tease.
And though rules and structure remain,
Open classes expand, our language domain.
So let us celebrate the open word classes,
For they reflect how language amasses.
A rich and diverse range of expression,
For us to use in endless succession.
By Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S POETRY
i've taken up drinking.
talking to a wall.
a wall of confusions.
delusions.
agitations.
in depth analyzation.
sadness.
the word
of the day
of blight.
smite?
a worldly
glorious
delight.
she sits
in one spot
gladly staring
into a face
a
face
a face
a face
a
face.
the face
with
eyes.
with mouth.
with mystery
with
with
depth
long gone.
wonders
what
it is like?
why not?
why so?
why anyway?
ever?
why.
because!
because!
the face replies
showing her
dismay
and assemblage
she thought she had,
but inferiority
takes over
like a raging
baboon
over her young.
her young.
their youth
the youth
of questions
and no answers
the youth of mirrors
the face
and
the ass
tonight
she too
like me
will take up drinking
away from
confused questions
questions not even
formulated.
a
blank.
a language vacation.
start with an
adjective
she ponders
an adjective
a simili of nouns
[auto correct
interjections
correcting her
created words.
the fascism!]
going over
the past before
the word
of written
words
a word?
a word.
!!!!! flee !!!!!!!!!
she flew
melted
into a word