Long Observation Poems
Long Observation Poems. Below are the most popular long Observation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Observation poems by poem length and keyword.
{ “Awareness : He began to decipher the instant that he was living, deciphering as he lived it, prophesying himself in the act of deciphering the last page of the parchments, as if he were looking into a speaking mirror.” -
Gabriel Garcia Marques }
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Poetic Mirrors
Who is Shams and who Rumi
is like asking who is fork and who knife when apart they sing not a single song
to nourish my blood with verse and love
I, mercurial reflect
Who is mirror and who reflection
Is that me ? I ask you
watching your slender bones
move in soiled leather boots
your wild slow eyes reflecting YES !
when a maiden across the room
gives a wicked laugh of NO !
I, mercurial translate
Who is this dissident beret alongside me ?
Is it me ahead on a future road .....
will someone stroke my back
give me ear, lip or cheek
urging my body to be young in
takkies and snazzy chamois jacket ?
I, mercurial question
Aah ! Poetic Mirrors !
writing reciting assessing
give respite from a million images of Self
as I circle an unveiled Flow of Fate
fully awake to naked
poet
I, mercurial observe
catalytic
Perhaps it's my theory; or is it my unwritten hypothesis? It's not a proven fact, but just a personal observation.
There are some people who geniunely need other people. At least in their minds, they cannot live without other people.
And I must say that I'm not speaking of co-dependency. There are people who geniunely do not need other people.
At least in their mind, their lives are better without other people. And I must say that I'm not speaking of anti-social behaviors.
There are lyrics in a popular song that seem to address this topic: "People who need people are the luckiest people in the world".
For the longest time, I did not understand the meaning of the song. It's nothing that I really talked much about, but I think I really get it now.
I once had an overseer and friend whom I considered to be a 'social animal'. In other words, It seems he had an addiction for people beyond normality.
I'm not sure if he felt pulled to them for their better well being, or wealther there were wounds in his own soul that required unusual social connections.
Anyway, perhaps the song is right; people who need people are luckier. Some are less social, but human nature seems to compel us towards each other.
12072017 PS Contest, People. 4P
In this evening, I wear the perfect smile, and,
you’ll quake, in the wake of my guile
Cause I’m the best liar you’ll ever meet,
Because, In a way, I swear, I’d mean it
Not, to say that I believe it, but
The intention’s there all the same
This is my confession, my admission of guilt.
Because, it’s upon good intentions, that the road to hell is built
I’m always working toward my goals, and my dreams
But, in self observation, I'm beginning to question my means
As of late, been having a lot of trouble, maintaining the tension in the telegraph lines
And for that reason, the deserving will have no honorable mention
For these wires that run from ear to ear
have been in disrepair, for the best part of the last year
And, this is my apology, as well as, a desperate plea
Because, in reality, I’m in need, of someone that can save me,
Someone to be the monkey on my back
And one who possesses all that I lack
Someone who could, with words deify the drying of paint
And, since patience is a virtue, my girl will have to be a saint
Someone who bear with me, when I beg her to stay
and then push her away
Endearingly Awkward, is all I want to be
The martyr, with out the fee
But, the apprehension in me, doth decree
My title has the need for a higher degree
of precision, and simplicity
And, In fear’s wake, I’m brought to my knees
And, despite my hearts desperate plea,
I comply, and then cease to be,
Until, love breathes her life into me
I feel poison coursing through my logic
And capitulation that could be considered tragic
I’m growing weary, of this battle,
In which my ambitions are roped like cattle,
And slaughtered, just to end up filling the bowls and plates
Of, fear, my sworn enemy, the one I’ll never cease to hate
Considered jaded by some, and boring to most
I feel the part of the silhouette, or the ghost
But, in all honesty
I am, in a word, broken.
I don’t know, I cant even begin
To tell the difference between ecstasy and agony,
Or know what to say, when asked about my identity.
in the evening, behind this perfect smile, at my fork in the road,
contemplating left, or right, and carrying a hell of a load, .
I put faith in a coin toss,
Not knowing which led to love, and which to loss,
caught in clenched fist,
And slapped down on bare wrist,
for an instant, i wonder
if this Is reprobation?
Or some road, leading to my vindication?
I’m a tribes man born and raised,
Please don't tell me how to spend my days!
Coming in with your western views,
Don't Because that's not the life I choose.
I'm a man I was raised to hunt,
But your killing my culture to be blunt.
Taking the animals away from us,
Trying to make our lives adjust.
To be more like you,
Can't you see we don't want to!
I know you think it's wrong what we do,
But to be fair it's not up to you!
You're coming on to my land,
Taking what you want can,
Don't you see the effects it has on my clan!
You're leaving us with nothing to do,
So you think we should bow down to you!
Take the jobs you've created,
With our land which you've updated!
Which basically means you turned into a tourist trap,
Selling us with the gift wrap!
We've turned into circus men,
People paying to see us as and when!
You telling us to perform our traditions,
In order to get commission,
We no longer do it for us,
We do it for the shuttle bus!
Can't you see,
You're the one who did this to me?
You're the one that's turned my clan to alcohol,
You're the one that's turned my clan to money,
You're the one whose destroyed our traditions,
You're the ones who've destroyed our visions.
Why can't you see that your not superior,
We're not inferior,
We're just different from you,
And taking that away from us is not up to you.
We don't want to be the same as the rest of the world, please try and not making us unfurl.
I cant speak for everyone as we see westerners as rich,
Many people would love to switch!
Have food on the table and water at their beck and call,
But those people they don't speak for us all.
Why don't you ask us what we desire,
Instead of changing us and giving us what you think we require.
You're not us, you've never actually lived like us,
So how do you know what works for us and what needs to adjust?
Lack of communication and lack of consideration, too much dictation and not enough beneficial donation, which would form the foundation, we would get to keep our location with a bit of negotiation and less adaptation equals less agitation. Maybe we need some more education and sanitation but with our invitation , and your observation by living in this population we can come to transformation that suits everyone and we will be a happy African nation!
We constantly deal with poetry which puts us in a soporific state,
we sit here apathetic to the cause of studying this beautiful art-
but Poetry’s breath Ad Nauseum about love and laments is bad for a date,
oblivious to the images, while attempting to turn the key we begin to depart.
Yet the door haunts us, novels, plays, yet poetry is the apex,
of this ethereal mystery within the maelstrom that is our mind,
alas this frustration is focused upon the conundrum of poetry being complex,
is it just a condensed novel, this Herculean Task of understanding the undefined.
There are many who deem poetry obsolete but tis rather far from its nadir,
now begins the unequivocally splendid power of the imagination-
hidden by poetry from the vituperative invader,
who’ve made an egregious mistake in deeming poetry a partial differential equation.
Imagination, oh what a beauty long forgotten in the age of reason-
we’ve been given Hobson’s choice, force fed Occam’s razor, given epitome-
yet good ol’ imagination persist like an excretion,
from the eyes of the true daughter of time, Science’s proficiency.
People assume poetry is the modern day Gordian’s Knot-
well- let us assume this is Utopia, were Imagination runs wild-
as she watches her forest, a black cat surreptitiously passes a man in thought,
startled because it is Friday the thirteenth his Triskaidekaphobia- this is all rather mild-
Just the tip of the iceberg was touched upon, just the tip-
Poetry and humanity is an oleaginous affair we mix but do not blend,
Or should we, poems are nothing more than what we put in, as if to dip-
just our toes, before we plunge head first into poems so as to apprehend.
Poetry is the Sun, as you are the flowers shined upon,
given warmth of knowledge and power if you are to just reach.
Not to let Poetry in as if to catch on-
give it back in your own form of speech.
Through your own imagination feed poetry,
It hungers for your reality, though not reality-
procrastinate not- hopefully,
for your conceptions are your sanity.
Or rather is fancy your sanity- decide,
it will affect your observation of poetry forevermore.
It will excite-
whether you believe it to or not- you will love or abhor.
Poetry is not arduous -
just do not assume there is a secret door.
In fact poetry is quite virtuous-
Seek only what you can give poetry, I do implore.
I OPENED A DOOR IN THE UNIVERSE
AND FOUND MYSELF IN A WORLD
SURROUNDED BY WHAT APPEARS TO BE
ENERGY OR SHALL WE SAY ENERGIES.
WAVE AFTER WAVE OF ENERGIES.
I HAD TO QUESTION MYSELF...
ARE THE WAVES INBOUND OR
OUTBOUND , ASCENDING OR
DESCENDING.?
WHEN I NOTICED THAT MY THOUGHTS
SEEMED TO PROJECT A FREQUENCY
THAT MINGLED WITH THE WAVES
OF ENERGY.
IT WAS THEN I REALIZED
I , WAS A FREQUENCY WAVE OF ENERGY.
IN A UNIVERSE FILLED WITH A
SYMPHONY OF MESMERIZING VIBRATING COLORS
OF ENERGIES RADIATING THE
DISPERSEMENT OF HARMONIZING FREQUENCIES.
AT THAT VERY MOMENT A THOUGHT
MATERIALIZED.
THE THOUGHT OF A PEBBLE FALLING
FREELY AND EFFORTLESSLY
INTO A MOTIONLESS , GLOSSY ,
MIRROR LIKE , BODY OF WATER.
LIKE A METEOR THROUGH
TIME AND SPACE.
THE INITIAL CONTACT CREATED A SPLASH
THAT SENT RIPPLES ACROSS
THE SURFACE, UPWARD , DOWNWARD
OUTWARD AND THROUGHOUT.
AS THE BODY OF WATER CAME TO LIFE,
I FOCUSED ON THE RIPPLES OF WATER
FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE A LIFE TIME
OF ETERNITY.
I COULD SEE , HEAR AND FEEL
THE VIBRATION IN , AROUND AND
THROUGHOUT THE SURROUNDING ATMOSPHERE.
IT WAS AN OVERWHELMING AND
PROFOUND EXPLOSION OF SOUND.
A SYMPHONY OF ENERGIES.
IT WAS AS IF I ABSORBED THE ENERGY
TRANSLATED AND PROJECTED THE THOUGHT
" LIFE IS GREAT ".
I COULD SEE THE RIPPLES COLLIDE
WITH THE ENERGY OF THOUGHT ,
CAUSING THE SURFACE ,
OF THE BODY OF WATER ,
TO BEGIN DANCING , SPARKLING AND
CELEBRATING.
AS IF THE BODY OF WATER WERE IN
AGREEMENT.
IT BECAME ABUNDANTLY CLEAR.
I , WE , MANKIND , CAN AND DO ,
COMMUNICATE , WITH THE UNIVERSE.
OBVIOUSLY , THE UNIVERSE RESPONDS
TO OUR QUESTIONS AND THOUGHTS.
HOW WE INTERPRET THOSE
FREQUENCIES AS THOUGHTS
ARE TOTALLY UP TO US.
UNDERSTANDING THE VOCABULARY
OF LISTENING , SPEAKING , READING
AND WRITING , THE MESSAGE CAN ,
AND FOR MANY , IS A CHALLENGE.
HOWEVER , ONCE WE BEGIN TO
UNDERSTAND , WE HAVE A BETTER
CHANCE OF UNDERSTANDING
WHO AND WHAT WE ARE AS FAR AS
A LIFE FORM IN THE UNIVERSE.
WE TOO ARE A BODY OF WATER ,
ABSORBING FREQUENCIES OF
OUR UNIVERSE AND OUR
SURROUNDINGS.
UNDERSTANDING THE VOCABULARY ,
WE MAY THEN INTERPRET , AND
TRANSLATE THE UNIVERSAL
MESSAGE.
LIFE IS GREAT ...FANTASTIC...
INCREDIBLE... AND AT TIMES...
SIMPLY AND TRULY UNBELIEVABLE.
Michael E. Harris
03092023
who is too busy fighting the devil,
all good energy eluded
if you truly understood yourself
you would not be so deluded
many fight an imagined internal
fear-
everyone allows the devil within
your nasty thoughts, never shared...
...madman exposed by the violent act...
lay dormant suppressed by false fear...
this knowing, this accepting,
a purely human observation,
blame God if you must you are
after all his miracle creation?
who pays for the lip
service to a religion
built on mans'
self destruction,
...devised by
corruption...
a religion built on
wars self sacrifice
, desperate
resurrection,
modified reincarnation,
how do you know, this religion is
not the devils' work?,
after all, there are more sinners inside
than outside of a church...
playing second fiddle to a man who
claims he is the annoited one,
this religious lip service,
could the annoited be a fraud?...no! thats right
God speaks to him, oh yeah nut jobs...
it's voices he heard...
if you were all together, free in your
mind-you would be able to see
how you are being fleeced
you wouldn't be so blind...
hey keep going to the preacher...
he's probably keeping you sane...
it's cheaper than doctor, financially
less of a strain...
but remember, just because you go to
church you're no better than me
just a little desperate, out of touch
with reality...
a lot of people these days stay away
from the pulpit, history reveals...
basically it's a weapon, it's a devil
filling your head with s#@t...
...many believers understand...this
religious clap trap in modern day
does not apply...
It is belief in ones self...this
you cannot preach or buy...
if you need someone to lecture you
on what is wrong from right...
to judge other people on any given
day or night...than you are in the
right place...
your mind is outdated
attend your weekly meetings
have your mind manipulated
hey whatever floats your boat...
whenever the day comes and you
decide to exit...
the people up here will still refer to you
as a mind deeply perplexed a thought
not easily rejected...
you have the answers,
they are in your head-but
you would rather listen to
a history, a reign of
madmen instead
Hey,come 3rd quarter of each calender year, it is that time of the year again,
This phenomenon is headlined in local dailies each day, again and again...
An enviromental situation, all kinds of experts in general do agree...
A regular man-made consequence from widespread clearing and burning of trees..
All over the country, as in the whole Asian region, the sun is but a blur pall of crimson...
Evidence of the filtering effects of the haze particles in atmospheric conditions..
This pall of haze or jerebu is now a password upon which to start a conversation...
Something akin to the British How's The Weather way of striking up a conversation..
Make a comment about this hazy situation and you can be sure of an observation...
That something urgent needs to be quickly done to elevate this distressing condition...
Everyman in the street is aware of this thick smoky mist that envelope the environment...
People are advised to use face masks to reduce the intake of unhealthy irritants...
Even as the sale of face masks are flying off the shelves, what a situation...
People with breathing problems like asthma are to stay indoors, lessen outdoor exertions..
Scheduled flights has to be cancelled unless flying visibility index is acceptable...
Schools are ordered to close when the official haze index breach certain levels...
Cloud seeding efforts are in force to seed rainfall which will clear considerably the opaque sky..
Just so that such unhealthy and unfavourable conditions will not cloud future skies...
Government efforts are intensified to once again negotiate for cross border cooperation...
Time and again, all these actions are routine responses to mitigate the people's indignation...
For year to year, we the public , suffer all kinds of inconveniences and challenges..
When each calender year enters the 3rd quarter, we suffer again this haze in stages..
Hopes are high, maybe this year things will be different, things will be better...
Down come the promised rain and the situation clears, until the next year...
When once again we all go through the whole rigmorale of negotiations and deliberations...
Safety measures and advice for the masses, cloud seeding efforts and of course, fervent prayers...
Welcome to the haze situation here in Asia...!
At any rate, it was not quite a ‘history repeating itself event', but it was close. It was the same place and close to the same time but a different day, separated by nearly a year. Like then, I was watering, there was a spider. and there was a yard bug trapped in a spider’s web. However, unlike then, there would be no rescue by me of an entangled bug, but rather a large catch by the spider.
It was Saturday morning at 7:20 on the 4th of July, and the fireworks would not be blasting away for several hours. However, the yard bug in question would not be around to hear the sounds of patriotic celebrations on this holiday. It appears also that this time, I was just a bit late to hear the sounds of “Help me!”.
Walking out my front door to water the flowers, I bent over to turn on the water faucet and noticed a most interesting encounter. A Black Widow Spider had begun processing its food supply at the expense of a yard bug. The bug was trapped in the spider’s web, and there would be no getting away this time.
After observing this wildlife ritual for a minute or two, I went back into the house to fetch pen and paper to record what I saw. When I returned at 7:30 to continue my observation, I must say that I was surprised that the spider and the bug were nowhere to be found. Not being educated on the eating ways of spiders, I thought that the spider would consume its prey in the web. Apparently, she had a better location for storage and eating purposes.
As I thought upon this wild-life tale, I began to realize that the bug was only slightly smaller than the spider. This meant that there was enough bug food for several days. So the Black Widow was dismantling its prey from the web to tuck it away for future consumption. The big catch was sufficient enough supply for the whole Black Widow family.
I could not help but recall my similar observation of last August 18th, when I was able to rescue the bug from the trap of the spider. It could have been, but I doubt that it was the same bug. I think perhaps he would have been smarter than to return to the same danger zone. But who knows? However, I have every reason to believe that this was the same Black Widow, who this time, beat me to the bug.
07042015 PS Contest, At Any Rate, It Will Be Fast Moving, Julia Ward
With excitement, and hearts beating with anticipation
Five of us held hands...as if declaring, "We're in this together!"...
We sped upwards,..into the clouds,...or so it seemed....
Enclosed in a silver capsule...like amateur astronauts, ...
A steel and concrete world of modern, miraculous, and amazing engineering!
Nervously, we looked at one another with the same wide eyed expressions.
"We are such country bumpkins!...."Do we look it?" I laughingly asked my husband....
"Hey, kids ! We're almost there...can you believe it??"
"We're almost to the top!!"
A soft spoken gentleman, wearing a bushy, yet neatly trimmed, mustache,
smiled and said to us...."Your first time, I can see?"..
He wore a uniform, (our host, a guide, I supposed)....he had the kindest smile.
"If you like,....I can point out places of interest for your children?"...he offered kindly.
Our three children nodded in delight.
Doors opened at last, and we stepped into a large room
We made our way through the milling crowd, and found a spot for observation.
Our mustached gentleman, chuckled when we gasped for air
As we looked for the first time at the breathtaking views
It was if we were looking down from the heavens...
City lights had just turned on, and we knew what it was like to look upon the stars...
Only, this time, they were below us...!
A magnificent city spread out before our eyes...
stunned, and speechless, we were breathless...
Our new friend pointed out Ellis Island, the bridges, Statue of Liberty...
"Oh yes", ....he said,...."over there, ....you can see almost into New Jersey"
"And there,...that is Staten Island. "Do you see the ferry?"
He charmed our young daughter, and impressed our sons with his knowledge..
Here we stood...on top of the world...inside this magnificent twin marvel....
Oh, dear God.....our innocence....who could know...?
Oh, dear God....the significance ....
one brief moment in time....
spent in the company of one kind gentleman who wore a friendly mustache
We will never forget that day................or him................. Oh, dear God....
~
Dedicated to a kind stranger....
____________________________
In honor of New York City at Dusk