Long Mindless Poems
Long Mindless Poems. Below are the most popular long Mindless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mindless poems by poem length and keyword.
(“July 7 Hot and Blue”, 2024, original encaustic)
I like mowing the arboretum
Because it’s relaxing
And the reason for that
Is because it’s mindless.
There are other mindless activities
Such as walking on the beach,
Fishing under an open sky,
Or playing with pets and small children.
But mowing the arboretum for me
Is especially mind-less
Because it’s a randomly planted plot of land
Which means it can only be randomly mowed.
Only an acre, still it takes a couple of hours to mow,
And often I begin with dread, because
I have forgotten how good it feels
To let my mind wander into mindlessness.
In our hearts we know mindlessness is good for us,
And that’s because being obsessively mindful
Is the same as being a prisoner, or better yet a slave,
Within and to our own mind.
Mindfulness is well and good for a variety of tasks,
I certainly want my surgeon being mindful,
But it’s simply a means to an end, and that end,
The ultimate space of a free mind, is mind less.
(4/17/26)
Extinctions Distinctions
Will it end with one distinction -
We – as authors of our own extinction.
Sucking, vampire–like, the life essence
necessary for our ongoing presence.
Will it end with roar - or whimper
warring beasts or broken souls
flaming wrath of mindless death
huddled fear of bridge-less trolls.
Will the end come quickly – slowly
sinner’s first and then - the holy
God’s that failed to tend their flock
reducing fertile earth – to rock.
Will the end be one last breath
uttering sad truth’s lament
despite rumors to the contrary
mankind wasn’t heaven sent.
It will end – of course – but how
in some future here and now
unless the thoughts of our distinct-ness
become the first that we extinguish.
12/30/2015
submitted to - Extinction – Poetry contest
sponsor – Anthony Slausen
...Loyalty, of all of them,
is the most lacking in our time.
But there’s untold importance in
staying true to those you find
who are sincere, honorable,
also true friends and family,
we build islands of refuge
in a sea of insanity.
Man’s great rock of stability
in the swirling dance of wrong,
loyalties, it is fair to say
are civilization’s bonds.
Finally, there is Aggression,
the hardest one to control,
but a good man who can fight hard
is more precious than even gold.
Some say we should abolish it,
that it does nothing but destroy,
forgetting that sometimes evil
is not something we can avoid.
And when evil seeks a victim,
it’s this virtue that it must meet,
were it not for male aggression
not a single soul would live free.
People who would dismiss these things,
who would lie and call them ‘toxic,’
strike me as people that inside
are frightened, broken, or sick.
To banish the traits that make us,
that built a world from sticks and stones,
comes off as mindless sophistry
from minds that are not yet grown.
And though they’ll never admit this,
I feel it must always be said,
were it not for the manly virtues,
we’d be concubines, slaves, or dead.
My death and afterlife- a concept that
stirs up my mind more often as I age.
So one dark night I wished myself the might
to lift and rise beyond death's earthly stage.
At once I'm there! The darkness is so still-
but, soon becomes the brightest golden glow.
And drawn to enter this dimension now-
am swept away, like lightning in the flow.
In rays, I meet my loved ones gone before;
embrace them lovingly with spirit tears.
For they have waited long to greet me, and
reunion is so blessed with soulful cheers.
With bodies gone and just our mindless souls
we see each other without earthly eyes;
led by the aura of deep spirit-love,
I feel a sense of bonding with my ties.
Such otherworldly beauty in this space,
a sense of love and peace pervades my soul.
With feeling, so sublime and mystical,
my journey to God's heaven makes me whole.
Too soon, my superpower zooms me back-
I fight to stay and must give in, with tears,
to leave the unimagined beauty of this realm.
But, now I know in death there are no fears.
June 7, 2016
~4th Place~
Contest: My Super Power Is_________
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
Judged: 06/19/2016
Revised for this contest from a former
poem posted on November 28, 2015
Snow gathered momentum to a chorus of confusion
Echoes of tortuous silence
A vacuum of restless reprieve
Like moist drift sand it spread its treacherous message
Opened trap doors of innocence
Coalesced sinkhole’s dredged mud
Answering unspoken questions it decanted crystals of pain
Touched sentient clouds in transit
Sounded fog horns in distant mist
Before spring melted its steadfast grip on a slippery path
Night fell onto wild thunderous icicles for
Shadows beginnings and irretrievable end
Under cover of ice in the underworld of impermanent frost
The journey man brushed defeat
In cold blood’s sad circular flow
Endless void refused to halt rock bottom’s crushing arrest
Torched dreams once light faded
Shed darkness oblivion and surrender
Snow boots and shoe strings draped a noose of relief
Suffocation took one ultimate breath
Embraced nothingness and final demise
And yet the midnight sun sent just one single glimmering ray
A threadbare rope ladder of shivering hope to guide
Him to remove the pick axe from a lost mindless brain
A comet sparked fire from rage and ember from blizzards
The moon croaked on its mocking laughter’s disguise
For an avalanche had protected a glimpse of his soul
22nd January 2020
The A to P of Change Procrastination to Adventure
Answers to be found to questions unknown must arise from new
Bold novel beginnings revisions contemplation reflections and prisms
Can manage to challenge unearth previously untrodden pastures
Diminish confusing conflicts depression mood swings all our schisms
Encompass what portrays and enlightens where we once had no clue
Forego all those doubts uncertainties mistrusts dithering divisions
Grafting and crafting embracing in gratitude those many disasters
Heralds art works in person and paper defies discards rephrases indecisions
In faith change and purposive interrogation we might well eschew
Jumbled controversies intercept trapdoors pitfalls mindless perditions
Kaleidoscopic mixed and matching compositions not necessarily faster
Lie within us so obviously they require manifold repertoires of renditions
Much hard work is needed in our strife but reward looms where credit is due
No more of that past nonsense routine inculcated intrusive narrow opposition
Obfuscations of sanity health revival if we desire to become our own master
Perfused with loving kindness honesty less traditional re-calibrated new mission
02nd August 2016-09-01
written in abcb rhyme for
contest Alphabet Soup
Hardened Thoughts
To those who tell me what I can and can’t
I have no words to sway their mindless curse
nor would they listen should my voice unveil
the emptiness of lips echoless purse,
aspiring to restrain youths sudden joy
assuage depleted chests with stolen gold
sit idly in the chair of hardened thoughts
unable to release the chains of old.
In their hearts lie the tyrants of I can’t
fearful beggars that kneel at open gates
imprisoning the reason of the free
within the total blindness of the fates.
Unable to admit just how they fell
enraptured by this mindless state of hell.
3/5/2016
Submitted to Rob Cormack's "Screwed" contest
There are things that are downright embarrassing. Some things you keep to yourself as long as possible, don't even tell your spouse if you can somehow avoid it. A minor distraction can turn geniuses into mindless imbeciles. Not that I have ever been either. However, there are people who will try to make you feel like imbeciles, but geniuses, not so much. By all accounts, perhaps I would fall somewhere between the two.
I returned one morning from taking my granddaughter to school. When I arrived at my house, the big loud garbage truck was picking up the garbage just beyond my driveway. I pulled up the driveway and tuned in to the 'all-important technological advancements in picking up garbage'. I was so focused on the driver's job that I forgot my own job of turning off my ignition. I left the engine running, which I could not hear due to the loud garbage truck. I then exited the vehicle and locked the doors. When the truck pulled off, I heard my own engine and realized that I was locked out with the engine running. I could have simply walked into the house and told my wife. She would have gladly handed me her keys, but not without a laugh, and she would have talked about it into old age. I also did not want to call my insurance on a 'lockout' of that sort.
So I was stuck for a while that seemed an eternity. Of course, I wasted more time just trying to figure out a good way to hide my mindless deed. In the Suv, my back window latch had a defect that I eventually remembered. I was never so happy to be the owner of a vehicle with 'a secret passage when one is locked out, and stuck with way too much pride'. Anyway, I'm not sure if I ever shared this dilemma with my wife. So please don't tell her.
08122017PoSoupContest, Remember, Shadow Hamilton
The terror came like a storm destruction like a whirlwind
distress and anguish upon my people again, again and again
How could this have happened to them?
betrayed by their own for a few trinkets and some gems
taken away from their families and from the motherland
forced to become slaves and property of an unrighteous man
Chained together and marched like prisoners on to those foreign ships
treated worse than mindless cattle; beaten, branded and whipped
crammed and packed together like sardines in a tin can
barely room to breath, barely room to stand
the stench and disease in that filthy dank place
our people dying in the darkness, no sun upon their face
some prayed for death others prayed for salvation
all prayed for God to end this horrible degradation
When I try to imagine the Middle Passage that my ancestors endured
I feel such anger and violence which I can ill-afford
but this Maafa is something that must be revealed
we must acknowledge it as a people so that we can one day heal
we must never forget the past nor our ancestors sacrifice
their blood is the root of our struggles, their hope the foundation of our lives
From the Congo to the Cross from the Middle Passage they arrived
from the Congo to the Cross their faith in God helped them survived
they sang songs of praise they sang songs of hope
they sang to Father God to give them the strength to cope
never forget the past and just keep hope alive
remember always the journey from which our ancestors derived
Maafa, Maafa in remembrance of their blood stains
the Middle Passage in our hearts it will forever remain
Transistors fizz
Electrons bustle
As robots claim
The daily hustle
The hinges creak
The oil of words
Is missing from
The mindless herds
They oft parade
With heads bowed low
Quite frankly,
Nowhere else to go
As hooked in tasks
In ruts with traction
Replace the normal
Human faction
Robots make robots
Or so I'm told
They replicate
The lies they're sold
Perpetuating
All that manic
In ways that seem
Somewhat satanic
The robot wars
Are not to fear
Just realise that they
Are here
Dispense with screen
Release your mind
In un-robotic ways
You'll find
The beauty of
The world around
When eyes you lift
Will soon be found;
Through trees and rain
Bare feet on grass
A world machines
Can ne'er surpass
The pores of life
Should breathe it in
Beguiled no more
By wars of tin.