Long Modern times Poems
Long Modern times Poems. Below are the most popular long Modern times by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Modern times poems by poem length and keyword.
Spilling a stampede of ink's prisms in brilliant
words infusing a Poet's thoughts.
Conveying creativity to provocative
imaginations .
Implicitly complying to isolating reality
Creating new dimensions where
Clock's spilling time's perceptions living
the moment of now forever.
Clockwise wisdom from wicked word’s
of a Crazy mind.
Philosophically our minds process symphonies
of orchestrated word's allowing cognitive man
to stay in harmony with the mind & body
a climax of our souls.
Mind the symphony insane insanity
orchestrated by the body in climax.
Words infuse a person's thoughts.
Emotions are expressed by the pitch of spoken word's.
Words communicate & body language speaks
emotions relative to the words
infused of a person's thinking.
Wisdom can be found reading in between the lines.
A paragraph of powerful catchphrases speaks
melodies of a catchy tune & flowers of imaginations
bloom.
Philosophy is ergonomics of the mind.
Urban legends in the suburbs.
Sounds of absurd check out the proverbs.
Cognition is a subject of cognitive man.
Premonitions are permissions of man's cognition.
Relative to the fixed position.
Precognition is a psychic's dream
an heard but not seen.
Culture is a reflection of society's ideology
theories of mythology in series of theologies.
Hypothetical theories query a qued question.
The clocks bleeding times perception
of dimensions in galaxies
light year's away.
Romeo’s an architect of accentuating
love's aesthetics in romance.
Twice pleasing to appeasing
sentiments in orchestra's
of delinquent eye's to witnesses.
Accentuating abstracts in non-conformities
designs contemporary aesthetics
in modern times.
Contemplating exquisite elegance unique
powers doubling my mind's conspiracy
of forwarding complex sediments.
Orchestrated the dynamics time playing
noteworthy scales of creativity
All the syllables in a kilogram of lines,
echoing grams of killer dope words whispering
persuasive complexity.
A mythic's chanting elegant wizardrtrii
enchanting ageless philosophies elegance of
life's angelic orchids of ageless wisdom's.
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Pen's Broadcasting Brilliance
21st century's Poet
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She came upon me in a dream deep down from within my destination
Which coursed the mind and soul of years for my memories' inspiration
The path was crowded with bouncing hooves and wagons decorated
With fantasies ornaments adoration painted with merriment unabated
Echoes' subconscious sound of wild horses drawing cart wheels' canter
A symphony's reminder of nectar's flow from a coloured glass decanter
Bewildered I reminisced on sentiments nostalgia and what lies ahead
Fanfares of homeliness adventure passion to pounding of a drumhead
Heated stallions ran wild with mares and took my innate flight of fancy
Less trodden though in modern times a covert path offered me fragrant tansy
Potions of wild garlic lavender and bouquets of aromatic blue sage scent
I grabbed the message by the horns and galloped to my heart's content
One face stood out and reached my fired feelings as I took off one blinker
A nomad girl dressed in rags whistles bells whom you might call a tinker
Olive skin and amber eyes beyond all reason teasing all sensual needs
Her hair like forests full of tangles I must touch her locks lest she proceeds
Around her neck dangled an amulet crafted from ivory and ancient oak
Grant me a whiff of freedom give me one chance to embrace and stroke
The skin's wilderness and passion which may save me from my strife
A single breath or little smooch from cherry lips to give me the kiss of life
She shone as bright as ruby petals and took her path along the lane
Of elderberry flower and hawthorn hedges which made me go insane
Her chest adorned with orange curves she wore a crown of quince
She's been imprinted on my summer screen for more and ever since
And still the magic rings hooked on her ears of nectarine shaped silver
Stir the image when I hear a voice singing the praise and beauty of her
A scintillating Roma bride sculpted from nature of the purest sense
Prophesy omen oracle and metaphor in one quite magically intense
When sunshine arises red and purple with violins and tambourine
I pinch the moon in thanks for right next to me slumbers my Fairy Queen
Once upon a time I handed her a golden peach an oath and sacred bond
She calls herself a gypsy and kindly waves to me with her magic wand
11th April 2020
For God so loved this sinful world, He gave us all His son;
That we might live with Him one day, when life on Earth is done.
No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed,
And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed.
The time was short for Jesus Christ, but what He gave mankind
To lift our hearts and save our souls has yet to be refined.
The grace and style in which He moved through politics and fools,
Has paved the way for paths we trod through worldly ways and rules.
His teachings spread throughout the land, His miracles renowned,
He only had to touch a life to show His love was sound.
Two thousand years have come and gone since Christ communed with man;
And with his dying saved us all, to serve God's ancient plan.
He rose from death, as He had said, and proved His word was true,
That life eternal waited those who choose to suffer through.
Salvation came that fateful day, the Bible tells us so;
And time has shown that through God’s love the weakest spirits grow.
Now, modern times are hard on us and cause us all to doubt,
For change is there at every turn, and Satan’s always out.
It’s now we need the love of God, for always, as before;
Just lift your heart and ask for it, and see what lays in store.
It’s through God’s love we handle change and how it makes us strong
In ways we deal with worldly things and sort the right from wrong.
For change is just another way the Lord sees fit to use
To make our days seem fresh and new with paths to take and choose.
It’s by our faith we live our lives and seek a brighter day,
And how we find the confidence when doubts get in the way.
But most of all it’s happiness that faith’s been known to give
When our misfortunes come to cloud these modern times we live.
We need not fear what God has wrought. We need not know His plan.
We only need to know He’s there, and love’s in store for man.
Just think the words you’d ask in prayer, and ere a sound be heard,
His perfect love will fill your heart before you’ve breathed a word.
No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed,
And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed.
But God forgave our debt to Him, we live in grace today;
The greatest love you’ve ever known is just a breath away.
Dear Budding Poet,
Modern poetry to me is the reflection of the chaos and
declining intolerance of modern times. It expresses the pent-up
emotions writhing in complexity trying to embrace our beautiful lives.
I know you’re a budding poet pining to express yourself and
aspiring to make a mark. My advice to you would
be to listen to your heart and transcribe in your own way what
it says. It’ll become a poem because your heart is the window
on the world through which you perceive the human values taking
intricate shapes, yarns of emotions weaving tapestry of joy
and grief, and the beauty of life designing ecstasy in your mind.
Don't ever close this window. You look out at the pristine
nature and absorb the elegance it frames. You would reach
the realm of exaltation when your mind would swim on
imagination. Let it flow in its own course meandering through
the landscape of your times. Wake up the muse in you and
let it float. You’ll then find formless blocks of words appear
as imagery. You need to use your pen to sculpt from these
the piece of art, your poetry.
Poetry in my life is like a perennial fountain drenching my
parched mind, drowning my sorrow, draining my tears
and satiating me with joy of creation.
My favorite themes : nature, love, emotions, fantasy,
introspection, desire, dream.
My favorite reference sources : www. howmanysyllables.com,
Cliché Finder, Thesaurus, www.rhymezone.com.
Titles of my favorite poems I’ve written (in order of preference) :
Atmospheric Pressure, Your Lacustrine Beauty, Through
The Opaque Night, Flowing Silence, As I was Walking In The Snow,
Searching You, Sign of Times, Kite Flies Away From Concrete
Jungle, Opening The Mind’s Petals, Embrace of Quietus.
My literary background : I’m an Earth Scientist having a doctorate
degree, published many scientific papers , received national
awards for research. My parents who were teachers of
literature infused in me the love for poetry. I started writing poetry
from high school days, published 4 books of poems.
Suggestion for book title : “The making of a poet”,
“Poems in search of a poet”.
May, 23, 2018.
...They told us it was ‘tolerant’
to not care if people were gay,
just letting those folk live their lives,
how could it hurt us anyway?
They said that we were spinning lies
when we spoke of a slippery slope,
but once they got that first wall down
they declared that anything goes.
That anything people believe
must be seen as morally right,
sure, it may be depravity,
but go on, and do what you like!
Now we’re seeing ugly drag queens
thrusting their hips in a kid’s face,
kids who have not hit puberty,
and teachers cheerlead this disgrace!
We’ve got people taking hormones,
openly destroying their health,
to pretend they can change their sex
(And give corrupt doctors great wealth).
Some people even want this for
children who are too young to think,
sterilize them for all their life,
and to greater depths do some sink!
We got crazies who think it’s fine
to see children as sexual,
we have slid so far down that slope
they’re trying to ‘tolerate’ pedos!
How many souls are hurt by this,
what evil will they not make light?
We thought we could remake mankind,
but no, the Christians were right.
They told us that we’d need no God,
some even declared He was dead,
we must build up our own purpose,
the whole world was just in our heads,
and people, wanting no constraint,
no reminder when they’d done bad,
embraced this with greatest gusto,
they wanted this, it made them glad.
But with no greater moral stake
by which you can measure against,
behaviors becomes relative,
and we’ve all seen what happened then.
Socialists killed tens of millions,
for the devil known as the state,
the Fascists killed off millions more,
mankind made an idol of hate.
Even here in our modern times
we see this sickness in our youth,
there isn’t really ‘right or wrong,’
just your personal point-of-view!
No dishonor in stealing things,
no treachery in telling lies,
in nihilism nothing’s wrong
so long as the cops don’t drive by.
Why do people cheat so much more,
be it with their partner, or job?
Because they feel they won’t get caught,
no greater meaning, if there’s no God.
Dishonest, depressed, with no purpose,
no wonder they don’t value life,
man cannot make his own meaning,
so yeah, the Christians were right.
REGENERATION GAME
Poverty stigmatises
Poverty overwhelms
Poverty condemns
To rid an area of its poor
Is the new regeneration game
That governments catering to middle class greed employ
Thus keeping the third estate in check
Sterility of environment
White washing of areas
Coupled with compulsory cauterization of attachment
Are the sticks that beat down the resolve
Of the new underserving poor
Those that made an area
Vibrant
Rhythmic with charm
And a melting pot of cohesion
Are no longer welcomed
Now the developer sees an opportunity
The middle class scramble
For central havens
Above the best schools
Sends planners into an orgy
Of false accusation against the poor
And wilful disregard for the
Life blood of the communities
They so lovingly plunder
The hardship of having too much
Is the story of those in power
An Understanding of poverty
Is not a vote puller
Thus all are rated on their property value
And their post code
To beat the low paid and waged
And the non-double barrelled named
Is a game the chattering classes engage in
Stigmatising the hardworking
Demonising them for living
Democracy functions today
By dividing society into the powerful and the followers
Those that cannot influence
Or have friends with connections
Are never to be allowed within the city walls
Lepers they must always be
To occupy a space where one
Is no longer welcomed
Is the daily grief of the estate inhabitants
Those that have stayed when the going was rough
Are now discouraged from
Claiming ancestry of an area
They will be rooted out come what may
By a council with middle class ambitions
Social depravity does not fit
With most government’s upward mobility
The Victorian idea of the needful poor
Rears its ugly head even in our modern times
Those that have not are always
Meant to be have nots
Politically motivated poor bashing
Is how a party gets into power and stays in power
The economy and society are pawns only
To attract
Buy
And keep voters
Fooled by the scraps from a heavy laden debt table
Selfishness is an ingredient in all
Past social implosions
Today’s regeneration plans
May ignite and incite smouldering ambition
When those that want a fair share
May overcome
The goliath that is selfishness
This is dedicated to the sweetest little 10 year old girl I met once who died of Brain Cancer...
"Memories escape from you,
Ones we do not want to lose"
She whispered to me softly
When I felt all confused,
As our moment slipped away,
She made me want to say,
"Angels walk beside us all
Each slowly passing day"
As she walked away from me,
Unafraid to let me see,
A shaven head, she covered up,
Where her hair used to be,
So much courage for her age
Not empty and full of rage,
A miracle, in modern times,
She chose to turn the page
She has chosen not to grieve,
Instead she just believes,
A higher power watches her
and keeps her mind at ease,
Unburdened by her fate
She accepts it unafraid,
Barbie dolls and fancy clothes
Will rest where they are laid
There are times I can recall
When the pebbles made me fall
With boulders on her shoulders
No complaining comes at all
With a smile upon her face
She achieved a state of grace
The only thought inside her head
"God please protect this place"
She will see no wedding rings
Or the change her presence brings
She will close her eyes, a final time,
and receive her angel wings
No emotions toss and turn
A peaceful place she has earned
Contributing an unseen verse
To songs she will not learn
When her body is no more,
And her spirit starts to soar,
Memories will live through,
Stuffed bears upon her floor,
She will let her mother know
Goodbye is not letting go,
Saying " I will run back to you
With every found hair bow
Every time you stop and see
A daughter who wants to be,
Everything her mother is,
The emotion felt is me,
When the wind begins to blow
That is me trying to show,
The picture of your baby girl
Running carefree in your clothes"
When her final breathe is gone
Her last prayer lives on and on
"God watch over mommy now
If I leave her all alone"
All her family will cry
I will hold my head and sigh
At the death of a miracle
With no answers as to why
Though this piece will not be heard
I write every single word
In hopes of saying thank you
For the honor of meeting her
She will never get to see
All the words she put in me
As I write for you, rest in peace,
Beloved Emily
By: Audonus Taylor
Bonnie Brown was in love with Charles, like black pearl clings to night,
So young and engaged to be married, like myriad stars, shining white.
They were active professionals, dwelling in a charming, bustling town;
As warbling charms orange noon, after pink mist clears, with no sound.
They had dreams of future and a family, like purple nights of fantasy;
And they were already making plans, like butterflies flitting frantically.
Fellowship of friends made fabulous Fridays, when they met after hours,
Dancing fun and funky karaoke, like dragonflies, among yellow flowers.
The family had always preferred flying, and finally arrived with jet lag,
In their flurry of activity; like snowflakes, or thunder's flashing, red flag.
Bonnie lived in the house of teatime, preferred in contented moments;
When speckled, green birds flew by the window, of afternoon suspense.
Scarlet rose was seared in heart's memory, on a street of grass sighing;
For Bonnie loved growing pretty blooms. She found their colors exciting!
News of the nation was on neighbors' lips, in the modern times of now;
But, novel nature took no notice, and it wouldn't have mattered, anyhow.
'Candy cane sorrel' blossoms thrilled children, in sweet days of summer;
As 'firecracker' blooms lauded 4th of July, 'mid droning, cricket latecomers.
'Red slipper' flowers lounged in velvet, while the 'parrot lilies' squawked;
And gardeners got rich as 'ruby cloud' descended, 'ere moonlight walked.
Bonnie planned to take a trip overseas, for two weeks of rest and gaiety;
But it'd be hard parting with Charles, like fall, bereft of flowering society.
Bonnie had so much fun, witnessing beautiful sights, like she never knew!
For all folks need a little adventure, like rainbows of skies, suddenly blue.
Charles was busy with a major work project, but missed Bonnie terribly;
Like colorful seasons that keep repeating, their vibrant days, customarily.
'My Bonnie lies over the ocean,
My Bonnie lies over the sea,
My Bonnie lies over the ocean,
Oh bring back my Bonnie to me,
Bring back, bring back,
Oh bring back my Bonnie to me, to me,
Bring back, bring back,
Oh bring back my Bonnie to me!'
Don't mistake the dead
For stagnant statues in the ground
Cause they are still alive
Very much alive in their clans
In their homes
They even walk around
You just can't see them
With your naked eyes
They are alive
Still making demands
To the living
For the wrong that would have
been done to them
They make the children of the
wrong doers pay
Pay for the sins
Of their fathers
Especially the Girl child
She is used to pay of debts,
Ngozi and so on
I cry, weep for the Girl child
For so long we have fought
For equal rights and opportunities
But today eneaquality is still rife
In the form of tradition
We have been suffering eternally
As if we killed Jesus
From the time of Eve
When she ate of the fruit
From the forbidden tree
Now when we give birth we
must know pain
After raising our child,
It is then given off to a Ngozi
And the cycle continues
The sins of our Fathers
The cycle
Like that of a mosquito
It only seeks blood
The pains of birth are untold
But to lose a child to a Ngozi
Is much painful
All hopes and dreams are dashed
It is like playing with water and mud
It was all for nothing
It is only the Daughters who pay
all their life
For the sins Of Their Fathers
My heart bleeds
Cause they are no longer citizens
But are forever bargaining tools
When will it one day change
When will the tears Of the Girl child fade
Call it a spade for a spade
The price for another human is another human
We are jumping into another form of slavery
And we do not even know it
Daughters are the price of our Father's sins
Suddenly life feels like a bed of thorns
The ones which we did not make for ourselves
We are nevertheless forced to lie in it
The pain in my heart hurts like a dagger to the
chest
Even in these modern times
We are still slaves
To the cameras
We are still daily abused
Society uses us to sexually gratify themselves
And in return we are given a piece of paper
that they call money
That doesn't even give us an ounce of dignity
But we are far too deep in the rabbit hole
To realise the truth for it is too dark
And we are both blind
For ,''Another man cannot lead another blind man.
They will both fall into a ditch''
Sisyphus had Syphilis which had traveled to his brain
a man of pleasure once but now he was stuck on a slope
got no spouse no kids to help not even a demimondaine
had he been lucid he’d abandoned his toil or used a rope
tied fast to the mountain peak but failed and tried in vain
could have down with magic fruit or used a whiff of dope
he had serious attachment issues in his case with a stone
had used a self help guide which requested him to let loose
counsellors were scarce in ancient times so he asked a crone
of doubtful provenance yet her advice was very much obtuse
bury a crow at midnight’s peak she posited but tie it to a bone
but as the legend goes he had no string so he had an excuse
boulder line syndrome one would say in current modern times
anxiety anger panic attacks and obsessive compulsive traits
could have done with cognitive therapy to overcome his climbs
he would not surrender though to failure and heavy weights
repeat attempts of treating madness had left him in dire straits
had post traumatic stress that mounted up in repetitive confines
his folks had told him ever so kind to not give up the challenge
to be resilient in face of hardship or defeat and when troubled
unless you stand firm and accept your task life will take revenge
obedient as he was made to be his senseless efforts he redoubled
was adamant that it was his pursuit to lift rocks to build a henge
his venereal illness helped in a strange way to not feel too befuddled
a place of worship on a plateau could not be erected in one session
he knew it might take a lifetime of labour effort and determination
foundations are the basis and he continued with undeterred passion
his fellows simply watched astonished with his tolerance for frustration
they thought we knew all along that lewd hookers left quite an impression
and intercourse if unprotected facilitates bedlam insanity and degeneration
05th July 2020