Long Nanosecond Poems
Long Nanosecond Poems. Below are the most popular long Nanosecond by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nanosecond poems by poem length and keyword.
She would complete your sentences
If you were not fast enough,
Some of us began talking faster.
We may not have made sense,
But at least we were not interrupted.
Others gave up completely, choosing
To do other things during her class time.
Weirdly enough, this did not bother
Mrs. Pardoe at all.
She was one of those snappish teachers,
Snapping her fingers at us impatiently,
Answering our questions for us if we
Took a nanosecond too long.
She wasted none of her precious
College educated dendrites on
Listening.
She had the worst class
Management in the school.
Everyone talked about it.
People tried to tell her
That maybe she needed
To listen more, talk less.
But she could not
hear over the snapping
of her fingers, and her
own impatience.
What the birds know today is that I am not there
Funny as it may seem, those birds and I have something in common
We are always looking for something,
What puzzles me the most is when I put out food
They appear from nowhere, chirping and calling for others
To come to share the food.
They are fascinating creatures,
I think I have hyped them too much by feeding them a lot of sugar:
However, I loved how they picked the leftovers.
And in a nanosecond, the food was gone.
I am back in the cold once again,
I truly missed those birds outside my door,
They do not need to migrate south.
And most of all they don’t have to select
Or regret voting for a president
In their defense, each of them appears to be a leader.
Who leads Birds of a Feather?
As we are mortal
and maybe even
if we weren’t, we
travel through
this one way
dimension
nanosecond
by
nanosecond
until we
aren’t anymore.
Although you don’t
have to be Einstein or
traveling at lightspeed
to know time is relative
sometimes going so slowly
other times passing too fast.
But I’d give one of my back
molars (which itself is feeling
the effects of time) for a time out.
Not the stand in the corner kind which
our parents gave us unruly children, but
rather a basketball type of time out where
everything stops and coach can draw up
the buzzer beater that will win the game.
But that’s all fantasy and excuse me if I
get a bit Buddhist, but we all know that
the past is gone and the future yet to come
we live in the now.
Enjoy.
.
Am I not exactly what you wanted to believe in.
You move through thoughts as smoke through the air invasive and sticky sticking to the conscious a millisecond per nanosecond hovering just there just long enough to register… the register your chemicals pattern know their way and flood and flow just enough to not let you know of what your unscious plans are for you,
And many have told you your profile is becoming and now you only speak to people with head turned and your eyes askew,
Hardwired into your physiology, your superior rectus and medial rectus on overtime,
Should you have the time to shoot the breeze…
You left me standing in Mont Martre dealing solo with the street vendors, who wanted the Euro and a peek up my skirt all the while trying to rip me off
Their invasive eyes spying at my legs…their psyches at full mast attempting to tempt me to part with currency. I am fluent in foolish.
Am I not exactly what you wanted me to believe in?
You are lost at sea, damaged and wave-weary desiring so much to reach a shore,
To hear a voice, hold a hand, human connection. You intentionally albeit unknowingly keep your self at sea, professing the need for solid earth under your feet
while all the while you wile-
away your time
upon salted, foam-crested waves you keep your mast full -- wind behind you directing you maintain your aqueous journey…It is the longing and pain you keep close to your breast. The longing is what you don’t profess: The longing is what you live for.
Are you not exactly what I wanted to believe in?
I'll pick up the phone on the first or second ring
If I know it's you who's calling I'll drop everything
I love to hear your voice when we're on the telephone
It's almost like you're singing, you've such a pleasing tone
You can call me anytime you're lonesome or you're not
I'll be there to answer right there on the spot
I wouldn't keep me waiting a nanosecond more
I want to have each moment that you would have in store
Even if I have to put a coat over my head
I wouldn't miss your call, the thought of it I dread
Call me in the morning, afternoon, or night
I'll make sure I'm ready, to hear you's a delight
she said i will be back in a jiffy
i said, dear, that is one-one hundredth
of a second
which is longer than a nanosecond
but i know your leagues
which are never lingering in parsecs
that adorable face she wears at times
to my witty responses, he is mine
her heart dominates my every axiom
where particle and wave
somehow violate every known law
where logic and reasoning succumb
and you never really know why
but that adorable face is everything
in life you ever wanted
where a jiffy separation is tolerable
but prefer nanoseconds
where walks in leagues
are parsecs spent with the stars
i can explain the universe
where below reality exists God's design
how Darwin's theory collapses
beneath MIT engineers' scrutiny
she explains to me the reason why
the math was empty
until that adorable face loved me
life was a search for answers
i found them all in her
where that third wandering electron
of oxygen rests in its orbit
studying kinematics it is now at rest
where physics celebrates infinity
where love forever reigns supreme
in a temple of corinthian columns
where the heavenly hosts sing, love is.....
the Gordian Knot unfolds in her touch
the math was empty until then
just formulas until she revealed why
OKC 7/22
Romantic poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings. Poetry to romantic poets is not a craft but an inspiration. The poet does not care for the perfection of form or clarity of expression. The romantic poets laid emphasis on imagination, inspiration, and emotion. It is the expression of the inner urges of the soul of the artist. The poet gives free expression to his feelings, emotions, experiences, thoughts, and ideas and does not care for rules and regulations. The emphasis is laid on inspiration and intuition.
The Designer’s Eye
I look up to the blue expanses,
Needing to see just a trace of my designer,
Just an eyelash, or the tiniest of a skin flake.
Maybe just the descent of a strange leaf,
So that, inside my insecure soul,
There is some tincture of truth,
I can hold on to;
Just a nanosecond of illuminating light,
Of something beyond nature and,
Its troubling temper tantrums.
I know there is an invisible curtain before us.
I can feel the staring eyes of the dead.
They sit in the Big Theater,
Watching the Big Play unfold endlessly,
And I am on the stage of time,
Still reciting the soliloquies of fear.
But over there,
Lurking behind the bannisters,
Look!
I see the Beast.
He has shot Lincoln.
Now the designer has shown me his eye.
Contest Line of Inquiry:
"Here I am in human form, but it was not always quite so;
Earth is not the only planet I’ve been to through past life
regressions, I definitely know."
From the white light of death
as we take our last breath,
our human Souls emerge.
By nanosecond surge,
transformed, like butterflies-
with mystic wings, each flies
back home into God's Light-
shape-shifting on our flight.
From Earth's cocoon, we lift
to our awarded gift.
Be it Eternal Life,
free from mortal strife;
or made to live again-
in flesh once more, and then-
shape-shifting, growing whole
through purity of Soul.
Soon feel we've lived before
upon a distant shore.
Therefore, Soul journeys go
how God directs their flow.
in the grand scheme of things
Nothing is as it seems,
nothing will stand
the test of time,
the eons will grind,
all will be worn to dust
as nothing is forever
forgotten in rust
in the grand scheme of things
we are nothing but a nanosecond
sparks of life easy blown out like a candle
in a vast vacuum of night
the regions of forever
and no one n nothing ever lasts
nothing is as it is or deemed,
seeing nothing in the coming void
nothing will stand the test of eternity
eons will grind all to carbon at last
the thing that stars of made
watching it drift through
…these deathless hands!
Line Of Inquiry : "I saw God but now what"
It was Easter and I was kneading bread on my kitchen counter. A nanosecond flash and God's face appeared on my backsplash, by the sink. I had a moment of pure rapture before doubt settled in, "Did I truly see Him or was it just an illusion? An un-worldly experience like this causes a euphoric moment on the heart. But soon fear settled in and I asked myself, "Is this vision an imminent sign of my impending death? Or proof of His true existence.
Faith you cannot see
like depth of the sea
or roots of a tree
Along the years, there have been other Grace filled moments such as this. Like the time I sat in a retreat center to pray and a gentle wind blew through my very soul, leaving me in tears. " I was found." The message was brought home by His Sacred presence in me. A pivotal moment of awareness and I knew God was the living seed of my mere existence. Although I didn't see Him this time, I truly felt His presence, and recognized the Divine in me.
Love is the answer
Love is a lancer
Love is a dancer
I have grown old and wise and this broken vessel is filled with the wear-and-tear of a well served life. So as my hourglass body pours itself out, I sit by the river and watch the birds of the air go by. Each one of them brings a message from Him, " When your time is near, I'll be there dear," This is what I hear as I listen, with a very grateful heart.