Long Objectifying Poems
Long Objectifying Poems. Below are the most popular long Objectifying by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Objectifying poems by poem length and keyword.
Look closely, feel the harmless heat
enveloping black-diamond
petals in the glistening
garden of glossy geraniums.
There, sprouts rosemary dreams
from an untouched silhouette,
eager to be seen beyond
her perfumed pigments.
Her universe was sprinkled
with starry streams
of gleaming rays,
as she swayed to symphonic
serenades filled with hazel dust.
They may gawk with greedy
glares as wide as the night sky,
marking her with lecherous
objects that only please
shameless eyes.
She was never
in need of a sixth sense
to understand iron glances
that travel in nefarious packs,
with sugar-burnt hunger
washing all over her
unblistered flesh,
judging her concealer
as a manipulative facade,
seeking uncalled-for affirmations
that she never solicited,
misconceiving her thin lines
of red-river lipstick.
Her summer physique allowed
no consent for invasive intrusion,
yet carnal cravings become
unwelcome toxic trespassers.
Their immoral thoughts
believe shallow words
give them wanderlust wings,
while sinister stars in their sky
label her a soulless mannequin,
objectifying her
cinnamon-glazed skin,
sun-kissed hair,
and pecan-powdered~
caramelized voluptuous flare,
with their vehement
voracious desires.
Swinging penetrative thin blades
of opinions from miles,
oblivious to the fact that
she is the sanguine strength
that strolls in silver silence
across spiky swards,
suppressing the pain her
bones have endured with
every whiskering
whistle they wolfed.
There, if the mauve moon and
crystalline constellations look closely,
they would find versatile
mirrors of meaning
reflecting the times
she parades a smile too
comfortable to wear,
for they have concluded
her bed to be a shrine
of blenders and
overflowing thickened blades,
cursed by the biological
sins of Adam's ancestors.
A sigh escapes still, immune to overt silence, unabashed...justified
Another teardrop enters the infinite pool of resilience, uplifting...reinforcing
Another hand empathizes--
touching, impulsively putting one's heart unto wounds, alleviating pain
enfolding memories into paper, ostensibly vigilant
Unborn dreams awaiting fruition.
empty streets, impacted pieces: occupied lives, unwavering spirits
Arighting the entropy--
"Not Impossible!" Heaves Obstacled Nation -- Untiring, Persevering!
A lone emboldened seed is planted, objectifying hope,
ushering life amidst rubble,
engaging tenacity inherently within overburdened, yet undauntable voices
Ardently surging, emerging from insidious waves of chaos,
ultimately touching azure
Time effortlessly moves, insensitive to ordeals
nonetheless, undoubtedly healing...
As wings echo distantly, irradiated winds oscillate
blush unfurling light...
Arise, Sun! Embrace the illuminated blossom. Orbit Love's universe.
0330040203042013
11th March 2011
**It has been two years since Japan encountered
such a devastating triple tragedy
of the earthquake in Tohoku, tsunami and
the Fukushima nuclear plant disaster...
They are still slowly picking up the pieces,
so much needs to be done,
so many are still displaced, uncertain of their futures, of their lives...
hopefully they are not forgotten.
It may take long, long years,
but I honestly believe Japan can rise over this, I honestly hope so.
****Thank you David for this enjoyable challenge.
It has pushed me to approach this topic in a way that
I would have never thought of on my own....
I want to write to be inspirational.
I want to write so others won’t fear to be confrontational.
I want you to read my works and say “Damn that was motivational!”
I want to be the one you seek after for guidance and truth.
I want you to grow confidence that is through the roof.
I want my words to brighten someone’s day,
I want my thoughts to drive one in a powerful way.
Is that bad of me to say?
Is it wrong I want to change a life?
Is it a crime I want to pull one away from strife?
Why can’t I pine after such a mission?
Because you and everyone else settle hurt and change by submission?
I want to change rather than conform.
How shall I accomplish this?
What works for you may not work for me.
I’ll just speak on what the world needs to see.
Men crying,
Girls objectifying,
Teens denying the need to conform,
Women waiting for marriage til a baby is born.
Men using fists rather than guns so mothers don’t have to mourn.
Young love, not young and drugged.
Respect for ourselves as women.
Men don’t just disrespect with their hands, but as well with their eyes.
And yet you want pants tight around your thighs.
If you put as much effort into school as you do looking cute, you would thrive.
Use your mind to maximize.
You wanted to be treated as an equal but you’re too busy finding ways to complain.
If you continue to let your success be compromised,
There’s no room to optimize.
I may not know you, but I know what you can do.
I know there’s nothing you can’t construe,
Nothing except for you.
You can be bigger than Ghandi, Oprah, or Muhammad Ali,
But what I find touching is up to me.
So I suppose I fail to influence and move,
Then again,
Isn’t that up to you?
Have you asked yourself...
How do I percieve the world,
what is object reality?
What are these sources
of abject identity,
alienating values which
further seperate sensible unity...
significant to whom and what,
obligatory to how and when,
the free spirit of autonomy versus,
past bondage and expectation...
What is the subject matter,
of objectifying principles...
differing as such,in regards to
ethical and moral sentiments,
obviously,the same rules
don't neccesarily apply equally,
schema's presentation of schisms...
what it is,or what it isn't?
So...what is object reality,
but also,why does it differentiate and alienate ?
If one has free access to well being,and
another is deprived of similar opportunity,
is the one whom benefits,made impervious
to the slow decay of others...or,
do we all share equally,the natural balance...
as one concerns itself with progress,yet
impedes the progress of others,
what sort of real progress is being made...
wouldn't that be then,the creation of abject identity?
...and for what purpose,
a ready made low wage labor market?
So,again...what is object reality,and
what does it mean to you...fundamentally,
what do you identify with...and why ?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
" 'till now man has been up against nature,
from now on he will be up against his own nature..." Dennis Gabor
Colors of orange and blue,
Cascading through,
A calm and pleasant,
Balancing hue.
The pleasure running through me,
Can very easily,
Take control of me,
Stealing our energy.
Creativity falls below,
Disrupting the flow.
Then duality,
Throws another blow.
Emotions start to grow,
Into an energy overload,
I'm about to explode.
-------------------
A sensual anxiety,
Is objectifying society.
All pleasure and aggression,
Our constant obsession,
And not learning the lessons.
Creating a fantasy,
To escape from reality.
Clinging to everything,
Cause feeling is addicting.
A Mind so numb,
You'll feel like quitting.
Rigid, detached,
The Coaster's fallen off track.
--------------------
There's been a set back,
Take a step back.
Fade to black,
And attack.
Adapt,
You're not trapped.
Utilize its energy,
to Strengthen your ability,
Your sensory receptivity,
Growing emotional stability,
And increasing agility.
Flow, and flexibility,
Guiding the body.
Now flowing freely,
through the complexity,
Of the Third Density.
Oh, Winter it is time for you to put away your white coat,
and to roll up your tattered blanket once so beautiful;
time for me to put away my cozy comforter;
and my red toboggan still dwelling lonely on the porch.
The fireplace is cold and neglected now,
and the gingerbread cookies have been eaten except one;
my ice skates are of no use with no ice on which to skate,
and the Christmas poinsettia once lovely is looking real droopy.
I am ready Winter- to pack away all my winter clothes;
and have removed the winter wreath from my front door!
____________________________________
May 14, 2019
Poetry/Verse/Oh, Winter
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1144-124-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Objectifying A Season
sponsor, Sheri Fresonke Harper
Third Place
For children, summer is swing sets and slides,
ice cream or snow cones, carnival rides,
the school bell’s last ring as kids flee the school,
hot dogs at ball games and days at the pool.
It’s pitching a tent and eating s’mores,
then down at the lake with rowboat and oars.
Summer’s the chasing of fireflies at night
and telling of ghost tales in flickering light.
It’s skateboards and bikes and just feeling free,
a volleyball net in the sand by the sea.
It’s summer vacation in one’s family car
with stops at motels when traveling far.
It’s sitting on blankets, eyes up at the sky
while watching the fireworks on Fourth of July
Summer’s a caterpillar; we want it to c r a w l,
then turn into a butterfly, the brightest of all!
It’s corn on the cob, and ever so sweet -
the melon the kid in us all wants to eat!
May 30, 2019
For Sheri Fresonke Harper's Objectifying A Season Poetry Contest
Oh Younger Self!
Don’t be behind at saying what you want,
Just because you never did have the font,
Regression exists in us if we fail to specify,
Objectifying later, our questions to quantify.
Believe only in the people you trust and obey,
Don’t quantify because you’re in the minority,
Remember what you’ve got, media and friends,
Treasure your relationships to make your own ends.
Just be short-sighted, only aware of the now,
Don’t aspire to be godly or sickeningly high-brow,
Crimp what you like but is wrong multitudinary,
And don’t equate true morality with the binary.
Exclude yourself to discuss your mind and trueness,
Freshness is in people who flow with goodness,
Be rejected, make do and accept low facilities,
Happiness is in your real desires and proclivities.
Brown eyes, brown haze drinking me in, making me yours; objectifying me.
But I am mine, yet you stand there and right me in the ways you believe are wrong.
I have withered and died a thousand times today, but you see only warm blood; you smell it, and you feed from me.
Do not say that I can change, for you know me not. I have lived a dozen lifetimes more than you and your minuscule existence.
Will you not release me from your gaze, brown eyes, brown haze? For you see me not for what I am; you merely see me as a woman whom surely shall endure and be subservient.
When you’re at last gone the air before me allows the stench of your misogyny to linger and I know, I know, I know I shall see you again, here and henceforth for the rest of my life.
Spring is a colorful salad
Roses are her radishes
Marigold her croutons
Lilacs in her dressing, dribbling sweetly
She is tossed in wind storms
Spring is a tasty salad
She uplifts the diners
She delights the songbirds
She nurtures the baby lambs
She brings greenery back to the meadow
Spring is a hearty salad
She feeds our souls
She nurtures our imaginations
She sings her forest songs
She rejuvenates us in the most heart-felt ways
Spring is our dessert salad
Her birds serenade us
Her bunnies show off their fluff
Her squirrels scold us gently
She brings us such enthusiasm and happiness!
Written: May 18, 2019
Contest: Objectifying a Season Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper