Long Logical Poems
Long Logical Poems. Below are the most popular long Logical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Logical poems by poem length and keyword.
Why do I love him? I don't know. I just love him.
What do I love about him? He takes care of his health naturally.
When did I start to love him? 24 April 2024
Only three digits: zero, two and four.
How deadly easy that was.
I loved someone in the past.
I ended up with a broken heart.
When can I tell you of my feelings for you?
I don't know, and I don't think so.
Does any one knows what love is?
It is something only the heart can tell.
Not even the logical brain can help.
Certainly, you do not love me.
You used words that hurt me deeply.
Goodbye my love, goodbye BB.
It was not intended to be.
It would go away easily.
Once upon an eternal sacred time of Earth's Golden Age,
Yin knew her body as a divinely virginal forested place
given equally to all for and of Earth's holy
wondrous
regenerativity.
She, without language,
but with marvelously round holonic symmetry
and multisensory proportion,
recreated prolifically organic
panentheistic nurture systems
Bilateral crown/root shade trees
of cobinary up/down energies
with mutually subsidiary synergy
Ingesting/Digesting icons of Earth's
convexly articulating,
quadrilateral light/power octaved
health-naturing non-dissonant communication
Prime +1crown/-(-0)root co-relational
mind/body polyvagally cobinary
up/down double-binding
ego/eco-logical balance
of sacred/organic neurosystems
perceiving/receiving
polyvagal win/win resonance
Universally positive/positive 1-LeftYang
numeration
OVER
denominatively unitarian
double-negative 0- RightYintegrity
Yin's dualdark left/right
reflecting Yang's up/down
nondual dialectical .spirit/nature
mind/body
crown/root
enlightening empowerment tao-circle.
Elder Matriarchal YinRight embodied feelings
and Younger Patriarchal YangLeft disembodied thoughts were,
and remain,
happiest and healthiest
compassionately co-pleasured together
And cognitively-thought v intuitively-felt dissonant
when Yang remains adolescently uppity,
believing His superior sacred brain
over-rules His inferior, merely organic
neurosystemically mindless body
Too often His anthropocentrically monotheistic state,
dissociating Yin's RightBrained pantheistic outflowing
growing grace
Sacredly organic
ecological bodies
conjoined in circlingcrown/root
polyvagal dances
to LeftBrain's deepest resonant songs,
poetry of embodied crown/root flow,
Earth's ecosystemic up-lightened
democratic down-powerment.
Go tell it on Earth's mountain:
this Crown/Root of ChosenAnthro
co-redemptively reborn Bodhisattva PeaceWarriors
of Earth's Post-Messianic in/out-flowing
upper-mind/lower-body caste-abolishing
global climate of enlightened/empowering peace.
The ocean speaks in poetry
Syllables slammed into the sand, sounding out the tides
Like a language uttered by ancient beings
Ripples flicker from the shore, forming words that echo in the crash of waves
Cool, blue-green waters contain the sentences of silent love
Even the wind whispers the condemnation of the structured
The forced strictness of the grammatical,
The drumbeat of raindrops are rhythm enough for the surf
A heartbeat wildly stuttering in a dance of speechless beauty
The grand jete of a ballerina stretching for the sun in the crest of a wave
A quest, unstoppable, for a higher power than gravity.
A music beyond silence yet above sound
A fluent fluctuation in the depths of emotion
A soul surrounded by the stranglehold of purpose
Pulled over the edge of reasoning and into an abyss free of thought,
Free from the confines of the chemical, mechanical, mathematical, logical,
Something that defies the dictates of society
Antonyms that reflect the intangible
Sorrowful joy - memories sunk beneath the spindrift
Lonely love - a bond that will never be broken
Contained vastness - like the ocean beating upon the shore
Poetry.
For example I am, you are, I nearly was.
Neatly are all external sockets.
Electric power has before science come.
Taken together it forms.
Many of U.S.are to mentally ill,
to go on.
There are not many souls,
transparent people.
And there are to few again many.
Humanely is it poetry to altruistic none gain.
Universal declarations,
far placed most can now see.
Because of the fear,
is that circle of friends out of reach.
I have for a while been prosecuted for it.
To be sent to prison for the lack,
of a place to live sounds logical to me.
James McLain Thursday, March 28, 2013
Inspired by a moving storyline in a show. There is no greater loss than the loss of a child. The only thing worse is how they died.
Two parents grieving
By Michelle Morris
10/04/2023
Two parents grieving
Cutting each other to shreds
Raw emotions like shards of glass
Blood and bone everywhere
Lonely and stuck in place
Two shadows under one roof
Hell is a safe haven
For the burning desires of revenge
Moving on is so logical
Acceptance is therapeutic but unlikely
Revenge is dark and enticing
It keeps us alive and focused
When will we move on?
Can we ever move on?
Life out there moves on
And yet, here we are - frozen in time
Time is meant to be a healer
But it is merely ticking away at our torment
Each day is another reminder
That he is gone forever
Divorce seems like an answer
We won't need to see each other
A constant repeat of emotions
So many memories that rip us apart
Two parents grieving
Cold and numb and alone
No longer able to communicate
Sorrow hangs over us as a life sentence
When a child is murdered
There are no words or deeds to soothe
Raw emotions like shards of glass
Will continue to bleed the truth
May love heal those wretched wounds
May light flood away the darkness
May two grieving parents be free
To live a life resembling hope
© Michelle Morris, 2023
No logical place for this line in another scribing on the
same theme, so I put it down here, looked at it for a moment.
Decided to let it stick, not raise the bar or ante because there’s really nothing more to it.
Yet, I wonder if you might like it or if you think it needs a different treatment.
Perhaps it only deserves a parenthetical mention in a margin somewhere,
a fringe note on someone else’s clatter?
(But I try pretty hard never to criticize another’s work.)
What more to it than this desire to judge and be judged,
compete for air space and time?
After all the world seems to be getting
quite crowded with talent or advanced ideas.
Mediocrity just isn’t cutting it any more.
So, if a neck sticks out for you, perhaps it is only because
it’s dog tired and don’t want to fight you anymore,
mastered a waste of time,
it seems, to some degree, a pedigree.
Does this consummation constitute a talent?
Perhaps patience requires waiting for the virtuous topic to
suggest itself, but if I lay in wait I might never write anything at
all, and then who would I be?
How to begin…
Trying – whole thoughtless years, then,
Boom compulsive composition.
Perhaps there’s something –
Here, what do you think?
Dreams and nightmares come and go
I've found something you ought to know
These night terrors can cause distress
Reading below could rid this mess
If you wake due to thrashing around
Tiredness and lethargy will be found
You can control your mind in sleep
Don't worry now , this isn't too deep
Management of subconscious mind
The answer to this I hope you find
Dreams are like a washing machine
When it's working , life is serene
When the machine breaks and overspills
Nightmares play and mayhem shrills
We need to fix this and stop it fast
Or decent sleep is a thing of the past
Common in trauma nightmares are
Disressing thoughts from lands afar
You're not alone this is for sure
Hopefully I can give you the cure
Don't try to analyse whats making you wake
It's only a nightmare for goodness sake
Too you I know its causes alarm
I'm just saying, it can't cause you any harm
It doesn't have to be logical or real
Along as you sleep that's the appeal
Keep this ending on an imaginary shelf
As you sleep it will assist in your health
When you wake If you can remember it
Think of an ending that will benefit
The ending can be anything you like
The nightmare will get on its bike
If this ending does not work
Whatever you do, don't go berserk
Try it again on the next night
Eventually you'll sleep without fright
If you don't remember when you wake
All is not lost use your feelings intake
You wake with fear and sweating hard
Change ending to a picturesque postcard
Keep practicing this changing technique
Then the nightmares will become weak
Persevere and see the light
All I can now, say is "SLEEP TIGHT, GOODNIGHT"
His two years old son
Needed treatment for stomach pain
But he had no money
His wife needed to pursue
Her BA course
He couldn't afford to
I can't help he would say
I must be happy with what I have
He would say to himself
Somewhat stoically
But his days were otherwise happy
Ferrying people between
Two metro railway stations
In his motorized auto-rickshaw
The road was straight and bare
Just earn and live from hand to mouth
A youth of twenty with no anxiety
The season changed
One day after dropping the last passenger
His eyes fell on a purse lying in the rear seat
Inside it, he found some cards
A bundle of currency notes
One lakh Indian rupees
That would amount to
Around eight hundred dollars
For the first time
He was on crossroads
The right-hand road he looked at
The right brain itched
Lucrative and lovely
The left-hand one looked logical
Take care it warned
The left brain he scratched
Folds on the forehead
The choice was difficult
Unlike Robert Frost
Perhaps the purse owner
Had withdrawn the money from a bank
To meet some emergency
He rationalized
Rummaging the purse
He got a useful telephone number
He dialed it
Answered a suave voice
The caller narrated how he had got the purse
The responder melted in gratefulness
" I am busy in my office.
My wife will see you in an hour.
Do please visit us one day and have lunch
with us"
Handsome looking
Auto-rickshaw owner smiled
Looked still further handsome
Mrs. Dasgupta arrived at the appointed hour
He returned the purse
A month later she gave him a return gift
It was almost a love at first sight
This time
He was at a really difficult crossroads
September 17, 2019
Crossroads Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
"Phenomonology"
time drips through
the lens of philosophy
phenomonology melts
the solid realisation;
was all that time
spent inconsequential,
the purpose of it all
bought abruptly,
for an expected cost
(for this annal
somewhere soft
and vaseline-lensed,
we anticipate, it is never
an unexpected cost,
we know the cost
of all things eventually),
fraught and contradictory
brought into alignment
with a loose end,
that’s a wrap
and nothing tied,
question mark;
semicolan, pause
avoid that full stop;
simply being before thought
yolk and white separate
cracked and measured
flaws in the reasoning
of existence,
there is no rational
explanation beyond
faith and belief,
monastic pantheists
flinch to the hymns
of science’s abrasive voice
it has its answers for
substance
through the gate racing
on the get-go
phyrronism
scorches everything;
Everything,
raises its hand
palm open – there’s that
measured full stop.
structures of consciousness
shakey foundations experienced
through a First person view
beggars belief
in trust,
yet nothing tangible;
we speak to ourselves
and our internal gods;
Spinoza confers with
some of us,
excommunicated,
we understand that,
in one way or another
and we are just like
the others
but different,
waiting for validation
and logical answers
to form on our tongues
like words we swallow
to speak into life.
in the beginning
there was the word
but before that,
the thoughts;
from the mind
sits Epoché’s nature
Ataraxia
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
I read Eisenstein's sacred economics
a year or two ago,
and it is one of the few I still remember
and often think about
and long for.
This ecological
theological
economic read
was my ego's cooperative investment
in TruthLeft with BeautyRight
Charles had paid-forward
in writing this cooperatively-invested exchange.
I love his WinWin ego/eco-system
not not ZeroSum
degenerative/regeneratively ambiguous imagination
listening to history's healthy wealth and unwealthy pathology
for ego-patriarchal/eco-feminist
bilaterally creolizing health/wealth value purity
of innocent EarthTribal Beauty flow-power.
If such co-passioned love economy
makes me a crazy ambiguously trans-regenerative investor
in polypathic WinWin health and wealth of beauty
wizard/wild wikimess
With truly shape-shifting liberal love
of deeply conservational green eco-normic
metaphoric learning truly gorgeous virtuous feedback value
from healthy non-violent eco-political communicating voices
Then,
so be my personal and political health systemic investments.
I am
what we are LeftWin/RightWin becoming,
so let's just move on
and fully occupy this trouble-shooting transubstantiating
trans-regenerative 4D
ZeroZone spacetime
EarthTribe Paradise potential
Truth/Beauty polynomial
Integrity of healthy cooperative Win/Win economics
with wealthy ecologics,
organically empowering systems
with bilateral Left/Right rhythms,
Yang/Yin
Universal/Unitarian,
Nature/Spirit promoting
dipolar co-lateral Zero InvestmentZone
of interdependent BeautifulDiversity
Guilty of re-syncing
as fully WinHealth/WinWealth
LeftEgo/RightEco-normatively charged,
and still changing,
and recharging
and prechanging
and uncharging
and not not polypathically changing
exchanging
Win/Lose competitive economic systems
for Win/Win ecopolitical
eco-logical webs
of heart-felt, fully-infested muses
for beautiful Myth,
co-operating nutritional organic exchanges
of healthy/pathological interdependent information
FeltFull MindHeart : FullFelt HeartMind