Long Investigate Poems

Long Investigate Poems. Below are the most popular long Investigate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Investigate poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Primed For Serendipity

As luck would have it
I chanced upon the secret
of finding things not looked for,
to enlist serendipity on cue.

The more you look the less you see.
Stop looking for, and start looking about.
Expectation kills spontaneity.
So, stop planning itineraries.

If you take a planned tour
on a planned route to see
the things you quest for,
You'll only get what you ordered on the menu.

But if you look about
and see an opportunity
in an open door off the beaten track,
you are ready to allow chance 
happenings to surprise you.

Many great discoveries 
in Science were made this way:
Penicillin discovered in dirty dishes, after a vacation
The micro-wave oven, when chocolate bar in pocket melted 
Post-it note, a not so sticky glue
Velcro, when hiking and seeing how burrs hook onto hair
Radioactivity, when Uranium left on photo plate in drawer overnight.

Two things stand out here:
Firstly, doing something unusual, unplanned, as if by accident
Secondly, being aware that the unexpected has happened,
and taking time to investigate it.
An inquisitive mind feeds on serendipitous encounters.

The opposite of serendipity is *zemblanity:
Which is discovering unlucky expected outcomes you planned for,
when you make unhappy, unlucky and expected discoveries by design.
It is the inevitable unsurprising uncovering 
of what we expected, and would rather not know.

So now you know, it is better 
to look about, than to look for,
to allow serendipitous encounters 
to happen more by chance.

---------------
9 May 2017


Watching You With Pride and Honor

been watching you
not for your body
but your unique style
you are different from the rest without trying
from the colors you choose to the socks on your feel
really dig that you are natural from head to toe as well
you express the nature of your beauty and how proud you are of it
so down to earth in your character and your caricature
here i am in a dark corner....so afraid to approach you
i find my bravery in my gut, which tastes like bile, and go up to you and say a why hello
the look in your eyes when i mustered up the nerve to do so....
i wonder if you were waiting and hoping that i would....
i decide to be nosey and investigate
about four combined dr. peppers and a large bag of doritos later, we realize that it is 4am and that we have been laughing ourselves hoarse for seven hours straight nonstop
to this day....still watching you....bending down with a knowing smile and planting more flowers....
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

Blue Moon

When the moon is blue
my family sleeps
My eyelids, not yet
to heavy to open
I indulge in these sparse times
 to myself I keep 
A miraculous experience
 Succeeding much hoping

Monkeys in flight
trace circles around my house
And I would imagine 
Hell, a frosty sight to be seen
Every soul, deep in dream 
no exception of my spouse
Just me myself and I  
enjoying moments serene

Perhaps I am in Heaven 
is usually my first conclusion
Snuggled up in silence
Far too inexplicable to be fact
Must be another dimension 
or delirium induced illusion
But I investigate 
finding them perfectly sacked

I take full advantage
Feeling unusually blessed
The t.v. Goes off 
along with other distractions 
 I find my favorite throw
Before getting undressed 
Soaking up the sweet aroma 
of no human interaction

I pick the best book
 To fit my mental state
Then skip to the couch
To my sparkling glass of Merlot
The rest is a blur
the children awake, the clock says 8
My wine untouched, book unopened 
 where did the time go

The truth is bitter 
the reality sobering 
Despite my efforts
I fell asleep once again
Humbled in defeat 
as my alarm clock rings
Maybe next time 
I'll stay awake past 10

Premium Member What Was I Thinking

It never brought me fame or fortune;
But still I’m content with the path I chose.
I never rose to high positions or seats of power;
But I’m happy to have influenced the lives of others.
At the pearly gates, I expect to hear God say, “Well done”.


Make no mistake about it, imperfection is in everyone’s DNA.
Second guessing has its place, but need not attach itself to us.        I work hard to get it right, not wanting to redo it a second time.
Sometimes, on certain matters, I dwell too long thinking it through.

Though I tend to investigate, and my due diligence is  above average; still, I failed miserably by making my first new car a Chevrolet Chevette. I was very young and inexperienced in the world of purchasing cars. Fortunately, it was indeed a mistake I never have repeated.                           

First of all, I needed a small economy car that was easy on the gas.  However, my little blue Chevy was sluggish and did not like the hills of San Francisco.  For seven years, it was literally an uphill climb until I moved my family to the flat lands of Sacramento.
                                                                                

Yes, I bought other four cylinders cars; but they had a lot more pep and power.  And yes, although my little blue car cost me $1000 down and several years of payments, I learned my lesson well.  And although it served me for some ten years, still I ask, “What was I thinking?”
06302016 PS Contest, Your Biggest Mistake
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A Visitor

  "God sends them without wings so 
we will not know they are angels. "
 
                                               Quote - Unknown

I heard a crashing coming from my flower shed ...
going to investigate
I found a furry orange visitor
CRASH went a flower pot of purple heather
from a table
and I was excepting more to fall
so, I stroked this wandering kitty cat
he was so friendly and I think looking for a friend too
I felt safe to bring him to the kitchen
and soon he was lapping warm milk
and munching on chicken
he fell asleep in my rocking chair
for the entire day ...
then, later hopped on my lap purring
I was thinking I have a cat now
but, then he kissed my cheek
and ran out the door ...
I suppose he was not quite ready to give up freedom
and this is okay
for my door will always be open to a visitor

______________________
April 04, 2023


Poetry/Free Verse/a visitor
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1537-255-04
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France

Written for the Standard contest, The Visitor
sponsor, Julia Ward, Judged 04/16/2023

Second Place


Yom Kippur

Yom Kippur
 
On Yom Kippur, the day of atonement
The Priests did acts to prevent God’s disownment.
 
Two goats to the desert so God’s Law is fulfilled,
One goes free and the other is killed.
 
One killed for God to meet his appraisal
The other set free for Enoch’s Azazel.  
 
This sacrifice, for one year alone
Is repeated yearly in order to atone.
 
Now we turn to the Gospels’ trial
With an act opposed to Pilate’s guile
 
A prisoner release this time of year
And the crowd did choose with their cheer
 
Their choice it seemed was fixed indeed
Between two men, one would bleed
 
The other free to run away
And live or die another day
 
Two prisoners did Pilate present
One for release and one for torment
 
The name of one is not his name
Although milenia have given it fame.
 
Jesus Barabbas, the crowd cried, “free”
The other Jesus you can nail to a tree.
 
But in reality they are the same
Even though a difference in the name.
Jesus bar abbas means son of the father
But rarely a Christian will ever bother 
To investigate the original tongue
From which the Gospels originally sprung.
 
We also have Jesus, called The Messiah
Who, in his life was as a pariah
 
So Jesus Barabbas and Jesus, God’s son
Both the same as the Yom Kippur run.
 
One to die for the nation’s sin
The other goes free, a new life to begin
 
So once again, tales are repeated
Truth is irrelevant and facts are cheated
 
The story’s concept is really what matters
With “our guy” looking good, the facts can be battered.
© LR Waldman  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Confirmation Bias

They died in silence, but they died
They cried in silence, but they cried
They shrieked they shouted, who knew?
You ask why know, what could you do?

But you focus on some trendy cause
A life under a lamppost, to peer applause
Outside the light, the monsters roam
I don't see you straying out of the dome.

You live in a bubble, a bubble others made
Its a shallow pond in which you wade
confirmation bias, and a wrong path
Few people leave it, few do the math.

One day the fists will rattle your door,
You'll plead for reason, you'll ask "what for?"
So, investigate now, let the circle extend
When the mob refocuses, every man needs a friend.

I wrote this poem, after I read Raymond Ibrahim
He talked of places where some lose, some win
Lots of conflict of which I knew zero
I can't really help, but he's a hero.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member His Name Was Sky

Two days ago, the curbside stack of trash was shaping up.
The maximum size of 4W x 8L x 4H was just about done.

About this time, a friendly homeless man suddenly showed up.
He walked toward me and said, "I just lost my apartment".
He said his name was Sky, and I thought, "How interesting".
I offered him food, called a Mercy Pact, that I keep in my car.
He was grateful, but noticed two lawn mowers out back.
Yes, he was a little challenged but of adequate intelligence.

He knew that I was cleaning out the trash, but not that I was moving.
He wanted to look at the lawn mowers. So, I allowed him to investigate.
I offered him the older smaller green mower that ran well, but his eyes                                                              
and heart were set on the larger red and newer one that needed a part                                                             
and did not run.  He kept trying to make the red one run but to no avail.

I suggested the part it probably needed and gave it to him and put $7 in
his hand.  With food, a warm blanket I also gave him, a lawn mower, and a few dollars, Sky then departed. He was very happy and said that I made his day. I tell you; Sky made my day.

Everything I did was an effort to demonstrate the love of God, to lead him                                                
to the knowledge of Jesus Christ as his savior. With words yes, but words                                                   
accompanied by deeds.                                                                    

Before he left, I informed Sky that 'our meeting was no accident but a Divine     Appointment'. I encouraged Sky and prayed with him. Among other things,     I remember praying that God would resurrect Sky to a new life and allow  good things to happen to him. My last words to Sky? "God loves you".

010722PSCtest, A Strand (1047), Brian Strand
2nd contest entry: 081322, Your Second Chance 1ST Poetry Contest
Sotto Poet
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Death By Murder

Death By Murder: 

Murky water left to drink 
floating particles of death. 

Erie presence leaves discontent. 
As something wicked floats in it. 

The bone chilling cold wind doth blow 
off Lake Erie with flurry snow. 

Late at night off cold dark shores 
shadows of a floating barge. 

Clouds of soot from steamers clogged 
Pollutes the air with killer smog. 

When something wicked this way flows 
poverty on desperate corners pose. 

Perverts prey on angry streets 
Homeless children on which they creep. 

Desperately at the mercy of, 
as something wicked this way comes 

Young ones get plucked,like sweet ripe plumbs 
As something wicked this way comes 
. 
Contaminated, where no herbs could purge her 
Strictly becomes death by murder. 

Others with blood dripping from lips 
Every scary thing flung and flipped 

No caring soul feels to investigate 
As vampires odors fumigate 

There's no friend to even extend 
a stick to beat the bush or defend 

The evil deeds that ignorance brings 
desecrates the graves of all good men 

We make loud noises and pretend; 
While something evil this way spins. 

The screams are loud but know one heard her 
Ignored are cries upon lake Erie's  borders  

Spores that spawn.. these deaths by murder.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Off To a Marvelous Start

2023’s off to a wonderful start
  Lost my wallet at the mini-mart
Right away though things got worse
  My wife misplaced her cash purse…

One of our kids is home in bed
  Said he fell on the side of his head
Another one sprained both wrists 
  trying to execute a 360-degree twist…

The bathroom flooded over this morn
  Just as a car rammed into the house, honking its horn
And the officer who arrived to investigate
  Tripped and broke his leg on our rusty gate

Of course, the new year’s not a day old yet
  There’s much more havoc to come
I think I’ll scatter a box of thumbtax ~
  I just hate it when life’s humdrum
Form: Couplet

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