Long Mythologies Poems
Long Mythologies Poems. Below are the most popular long Mythologies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mythologies poems by poem length and keyword.
They said you came from chimpanzees—
That deep in some African jungle
You leapt across species,
A silent hunter cloaked in blood.
But we have lived with chimpanzees
For tens of thousands of years.
We shared forests,
We shared meat,
We shared mythologies.
Why now?
They claim you're a natural disease—
But if that were true,
Why does nature not offer a cure?
Polio fell. Smallpox vanished.
Yet you—since 1981—
Have danced above the heads
Of even our greatest minds.
You are not nature’s design.
You are manmade silence.
You are a disease of profit,
A political invention,
A capitalist experiment gone global.
You were born in the shadows
Of white laboratories
Fueled by Cold War paranoia,
By the greed of corporations
And the prejudice of empires.
You made kings of pharmaceutical companies
And slaves of the sick.
You are not a virus.
You are a business model.
Billions have been spent.
Trillions earned.
You made markets out of mortality.
You made luxury yachts
From the suffering of mothers.
The cure?
Buried beneath patents,
Guarded by legal walls
And the blood of the voiceless.
If the world can send robots to Mars,
Edit genes,
Simulate universes—
Why can’t it cure a virus
With a mapped genome
And decades of study?
The answer is clear:
Because your existence
Feeds the engines of greed.
Because a cured patient
Is less profitable
Than a permanently treated one.
And you dare—
You dare to point your trembling finger at Africa,
The continent where life began,
And say: “There. That is where I was born.”
Lies.
The first known case?
The USA, 1969.
A teenager.
No jungle.
No monkey.
Just silence.
You demonized a continent
To distract from your laboratories.
You blamed the poor
To protect the rich.
But truth, like water, always finds a crack.
And now—
The world is watching.
The veil is lifting.
Young scientists are rising
Not for profit,
But for justice.
For healing.
For the truth.
Your days are numbered,
HIV.
Not because you are strong—
But because your creators
Can no longer contain the storm they sparked.
And when the truth stands,
No lie—
No corporation—
No empire—
Can withstand its weight.
We see you.
We name you.
We end you.
Unknown Nothings
Infinite amounts of prophecies
philosophies
sciences
ideologies
ideas
dharmas
karmas
and dogmas of
beginnings
endings
afterlives
heavens
hells
nirvanas
enlightenments
salvations
damnations
repentances
reincarnations
meanings
purposes
life's suffering
trials and tribulations
creators and creators' adversaries
over-exaggerated
over-analyzed
over-interpreted
over-exhausted
over-excerted
epic poems that have been canonized and turned into sacred texts and turned in religions spiritual philosophies
mythologies
folktales and fairytales
promisings of estimated non-testable hypothesises through the Scientific Method but by faith and fictitious facts alone without any substantial evidence
instructions on how to live
who and how to worship and who not to worship
who to give praise, sing, dance and play music to
who to not give praise, song, dance, and play music too
explanations claiming to know every answer to every question that mankind had ever asked especially in the grey areas of life because it's not just black and white all of the time
selling speculations of so-called truths
claiming to be the one and only absolute truth
promising absolute certainities
revelations
visions
visitations
communications with invincible beings
forcefully feeding non-believers their truths in hopes of converting them over
controlling
coercing
manipulating their believers into doing whatever they are told to do
executioning non-believers
inquisting non-believers
promising to solve all of your problems
promising to offer you hopes
comforts
meanings and purposes
promising you eternal salvations
promising you eternal Nirvanas
promising you eternal happiness
promising you eternal joy
proselytizing and catechizing their truths to the world
each of these things supposedly offer everything above and so much more but the truth is that nobody truly knows any truth about anything mention above and so much more
isn't it funny mankind has come up with and even made up so many answers to everything but there are still people who doubt everyone of them and don't know why they think that they are the one and only truthsayers?
Form:
Let me set something straight -
Right here, right now!
Let me put India in the right perspective,
Let me banish some myths,
Some gross misconceptions,
And take you beyond elephants,
Sacred cows, snake charmers and yoga,
Beyond Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Taj Mahal,
To a civilization rooted for
over 5,000 years in the past
To a land rich - majestically rich -
In many cultures, customs and traditions,
In a bewildering variety of races,
Religions, languages and folk arts,
In a vibrant tradition of dance and music,
In religious festivals and traditional events,
In saints, sadhus, gurus and sages,
In gods, goddesses, munis and mahatmas,
In temples, palaces, shrines and monasteries;
I'll baby-steps you through a land
Of Vedas and Upanishads,
Of epic stories and incredible mythologies,
Of Ramayana, Mahabharata and Bhagavad Gita,
Through one of world's great spiritual sanctuaries,
Where religion is a way of life;
An overwhelming, complex land -
Its charm, its vitality and yes, its confusion,
Atonce alarming and enticing.
And that's the way India is:
Elusive, confusing, contradictory,
mysterious and exasperating!
Beyond easy description or analysis,
A phenomenal diversity of dress
and manners making one aware
of a different world -
A veritable fairyland!
No other country offers quite such
A spectacle of teeming masses that
continue to enrich the heritage of mankind,
Nowhere do the past and present
coexist in more colorful promiscuity -
An incomparable country,
Easy to love, hard to forget!
"There's only one India!" raved Mark Twain,
"A wonderland of fabulous wealth
and fabulous poverty, of splendor and rags ..."
"The cradle of the human race,
The birthplace of human speech,
The mother of history,
The grandmother of legend and
The great grandmother of tradition."
This, indeed, is my country
Where I was born -
An Indian at heart,
An American in spirit!
Namaste!
Khuda Hafiz, Jai Ramji Ki,
OM Radhe Shyam, Sat Sri Akal,
Jai Hind!!
~Love letters to the sub continent
contest by cyndi MacMillan
When younger, less afraid of dying.
Even now, less afraid of dying
than fearful I am already too dead for fully functional
resuscitation
Reviving reconnecting
inter-religious panentheism
Maybe it’s just another monotheistic Sunday 9 PM,
last dregs of responsible weekend parenting,
trying to remember, then forget,
why I thought parenting would be good for my spiritual life,
unlike eremitic vows
or even celibacy.
No, not for me
such traditional eco-mythologies,
our reconnecting regeneration
will become egomind/eco-body therapists
of polycultural healthy
re-ligious cooperativity!
What an exhausting anthrosupremacist ideation!
swollen with polyvagal win/lose mediocrity,
sad happiness of merry pathogens,
ungreeting alien unmet teenagers,
shape-shifting into truly terrifying young adults,
halfway between my eternally wise ZenZero
full-peak/empty-valley bicameral
budding wokeness
and neuro-sexsensory wildness,
their unreformed perfect creepiness
stretching my boundaries of reasonable
love-life expectations.
I’m far less afraid of dying
than I fear indigenous EarthTribes fading away
without me
attending to over-spiritualized worship services
to reconnect us each
and preverbal panentheistic all
with how utterly exhausting we are
untogether communicating
in siloed sanctuaries of LeftBrain silence
sincerity
religioning EarthTribe's win/win potential integrity.
Another Sunday 9 PM
re-membering to not forget
my spirited-natural
indigenous love
wise panentheistic life
if only drifting RightBrain prominent
feelings of ego-mindhealth
and safe eco-bodywealth
until a win/lose traumatic
disturbing
BusinessAsUsual 6 AM
alone
older
still surrounded by unsafe
homophobic
straight monotheistic
anthrosupremacist hypocrisy
To think that a secularized human nature
could ever be as beautiful
as lilies in the field
or as wise
as an indigenous
panentheistically nurturing
LeftCrown dominant
RightRoot recessive
MotherTree.
As if Narcissus could look
Into a weeping pool
Yet still on reflection fall in love
The ancient tears, which were gathered there
Around the puddle of our history
In silent memoriam
And what the heart does not see
And when the eyes refuse to see
They bury conscience in constructions of fake mythologies
Behold this instant of gratification
The grinning desperate smiles of satisfaction
A blind mask to ratify a parasitic dream
With each mouthful of its sweetest morsel
A bitter bite on sickly candy coated floss
To disguise the poison lurking in the after taste
And to all we flock and sing our praise
And more and more to gratify our days
While the delicate cost and vicious price rapes us, from inside
Each second of entertainment
Spews the starvation of unseen children
And rattles with its consumerist indifference, the confidence of all our lies
We are the product of fallen and bloodied innocence
And the sickness of this truth
Is gnawing at the entrails of our comfortable lives
We were lead into this deception
Bullied and tyrannised into acceptance
Deceived by the clever wool pulled surreptitiously over our eyes
We were driven into the arms of fear
To the isolation we all feel while living here
On this inescapable planet of our unity with all the rest of our human family
The hubris of the edifice
Would have you already beaten
Already chained you to their system
Already enslaved you to their dominion
Already chuckling in your veins
As for this life you have you have paid
To the parasites who think they can command your every action
And each second of entertainment
Spews the starving bellies of unseen children
While the sickness of this truth
Gnaws at the entrails of our comfortable lives
How can we ever hope to rest
Or grasp our true happiness
While every smile is the desperateness
Of denial
Human life deserves a platform to unfold
Away from straitjackets of pious scrutiny
Whose eyes, ears and hands feel so cold
They reject freedom and project a mutiny
Born from the scorn society pours on freedom
Curtailing every progressive move towards expanding
Frontiers of free thought, thought outside the stricture kingdom
Where dissenters earn the label of antisocial branding
Perceived by untested notions whose dubious value
Lies in objecting to new ideas, new approaches
To matters where life suffers because critics with no clue
Claim innovations and expansions in thinking circulate cockroaches
In citadels that preserve culture and tradition
To limit the extent to which inhabitants expand the scope
Life ought to enjoy without any undue restriction
Imposed by custodians of traditions whose pope
Preaches limitations on abortion and exploration of modernization
In the wake of disruptive technologies
That spawn conundrums in which efforts of socialization
In traditional societies and African mythologies
Die a natural death
When social media facilitate new ways of communicating and connecting
Whose wealth and health
Diminish and extinguish mores, norms and customs, projecting
Arguments whose cogent basis tenuous at best
Can’t stand reliability and validity
Scrutiny and which traditionalists attest
Matter to defend the utility and solidity
Archaic notions offer to society’s progress
In which the worth and splendor of life
Matters more than efforts to suppress
Moves to eradicate and eliminate wife
Battery and slavery in the context of gender based violence
Rife in African townships and homesteads
Where traditionalists promote the importance
Domestic violence plays in subjugating stubborn heads.
In a world once illuminated by the gold of bygone times,
A dark veil is now woven, a prison for lost souls,
Where critical spirit and free thought are but whispered memories,
Control of education becomes the key to inescapable conformity.
Values are distorted, and obedience becomes the supreme virtue,
While the media becomes a dance of shadows that distracts and manipulates,
Rewriting history erases the markers that tied us to the past,
Creating modern mythologies that serve only the ruling elites.
Under the watchful eye of technology, every movement is monitored,
Security becomes the pretext for invading our fragile intimacy,
Structures of punishment and reward are born from behaviors,
A social credit system that weighs our weary souls.
Economic dependence intertwines with the loss of autonomy,
Self-sustained agriculture and free trades become relics of the past,
The digital economy controls every transaction, every hope,
Personal property disappears under the guise of illusory common good.
Moral values are turned upside down, good and evil unravel,
Moral chaos and absolute relativism become the new gods of the world,
Social degradation is encouraged, primal instincts triumph,
While spirituality is lost in the echo of a forgotten time.
Power centralizes, cultural identities dissolve,
National sovereignty becomes a tale of forgotten past,
A single planetary government casts its shadows over freedom,
A quasi-religious ideology justifies the domination of the few.
Thus is born a planetary prison, where light slowly fades away,
Under a sky where stars barely flicker, souls wander,
In a world that has reversed all that was once sacred and full of life,
Searching for a way back to the gold of an era long past.
Wicked memories haunt my dreams at night and stalk me during the daylight, denying me any measure of peace and tranquility. Please, take me to the river Lethe and rebirth me, so that I may forget the pain of my past and the humiliation of my childhood.
Ferry me not down the river Styx, for the lost and stolen dreams of my youth have been irretrievably drowned there. Spare me Acheron, for I have seen enough misery to last two lifetimes. Let her waterways be for the perpetrators of what is bad and hurtful.
Allow me to swim in the sacred waters of Alph, so that I may regain power to soar like an eagle, unfettered by the images that torment my mind and heart. Or permit me one sip from the great Ganga Ma, and may her waters cleanse me of my iniquities and guide me to salvation.
Baptize me in the Jordan and I will be born again, a new creature with no recollection of the past. All of my sins and impurities will then be washed away, never again to plague me. Lead me to the mighty Euphrates, that I may rediscover Eden and bathe in her crystal streams, untainted by imperfection and unholiness.
Hear my prayer for rest and peace, lest this poor soul should wither away and die. Shower me with fresh waters of truth, humility and righteousness, so that I may live and thrive, forever. Help me to escape this torturous past and present and regain joy in the hope of a better tomorrow.
*Note: I do not believe in mythologies. The images used here are metaphorical only.
**For all those who suffer the torment of mental or emotional illness, hold on to hope. Live another day, for the promise of paradise is for the meek and the broken-hearted. It will not delay, it will not be late - Revelation 21:3-5
Hibiscus rays of light herald
sun's stretch from night to twilight
in wakening blooms of ravishing red passion—
Oh! how I despise dawn's
blushing optimism and lust for life
for I am too young to cry but too old not to
featherlight the dandelion puff
as zephyrs blew seeds of our fantasies
free to fly the whims and sighs of our summer days
till breezes laid our pixie-dust down
wishes taking root in fast flourish—
pollen-plush dream-weeds grew in fields of gold
champagne flowed voluptuously through our veins
we laughed and pulsed with ambrosia-arousal
and with every nectarous nip
we lived as though we would celebrate love
f o r e v e r
a handful of heartbeats ago
we crystal-gazed into moon’s silver circle
believing in foretold fortunes of our future
our mythologies shaped in affectionate frescoes
sculpted softly into plum-dyed skies
constellations born from fireworks in our wooing eyes
—until the heart-twisting dawn-to-dark
when a cloud of angels cradled
sun-gilded harps
against their white-rose-hearts
teardrops in ecstasies of grief and joy
strummed celestial strings in virgin blue glissandos
lifting his lustrous soul away from me— lifting him
across the bridge to bliss —somewhere beyond me
and behind snowy veils of virtue
I am anemic
if not nothing now
adulterated
by loss of innocence
dwindling
in a dreamless star-broken state
unoccupied
but for the lurid loss that fills me—
and my black skies storm with shrieking tears!
Wake up to the magnitude of the responsibility you shoulder
In singing the destiny humankind deserves
Betraying secrets to the egregious egret whose stakeholder
In his demented demeanour reserves
The right to plan, design and manufacture weapons of mass destruction
Whose reach and damage could wipe out the future humankind
Treasures in beliefs, norms and cultures whose construction
Aimed to implant virtues which find
Resonance, consonance and conformance in every facet
Various genotypes and phenotypes of the human race
Wear in awe and glamour that make up the alphabet set
That defines human nature in every trace and face
Living on the face of the Earth in the love habitude
Throbbing in hearts
Whose latitude and attitude
Once embedded in all Arts
Identified in caves, in grottos, in frescos, in cathedrals, in mausoleums
Breathing and preaching love
In beating hearts, in museums
Below and above
The heavens wake up, speak up
To reconcile warring religions, ideologies, mythologies, methodologies
Crawling as dregs at the bottom of the cup
Where the secret to the survival of the human race lies in new psychologies
Whose central tenet
Reduces
The Internet
To a platform where love produces
An elixir that metamorphoses human life
Into a form that lives forever
If only humankind could wipe away strife by mastering the art of playing the fife
Whose tenderness tune cures life brevity in a laboratory located in Denver.