Long Perpetuate Poems
Long Perpetuate Poems. Below are the most popular long Perpetuate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Perpetuate poems by poem length and keyword.
There’s nothing finer, in a sense,
Than certain words in present tense.
Words which are incredibly,
Etched on your mind indelibly.
Immaculate, petulant, magnificent, sinew,
Incredulous, superfluous, to name just but a few.
Sacrament, procrastinate, intestate - may seem,
Draconian, Dickensian, obsolete, obscene.
Gratuity, embouchure, gnaw with silent 'g',
Juggernaut, cantankerous, words which I must decree,
Are remarkably, stupendously, fantastically sublime,
And should be used magnanimously, each and every time.
Biblical, whimsical, statistician, brie,
Words which are surprisingly, absolutely free.
Insatiable, perpetuate, onomatopoeia,
Existential, exemplary, words you shouldn’t fear.
Exponential, candid, xylophone or muse,
Malign versus benign - never to confuse.
Reptilian, gazillion, fragility, beguile,
Elucidate, excruciate, go the extra mile.
Psychopath, pedestrian, sesquipedalian,
(That last word I must admit is somewhat alien),
But never doubt, you have some clout, with words that randomly,
Demonstrate, accentuate a sense of liberty.
See the thrashing
The panic
Hear the cries
The screams
Know their drowning
With no help
Instinct engages
I dive in head first
The thrashing calms
Panic subsides
Less crying
Screams change to whispers
Support gives purpose
I hold on tight
Promising not to let go
Now cast aside
Once they can swim again
Alone in the expanse
Realizing their support
Kept me afloat
I feel myself begin to sink
Slipping beneath the waves
See the thrashing
The panic
Hear the cries
The screams
She knows I'm drowning
With no help
Instinct engages
She dives in head first
Don't perpetuate the cycle...
Let’s create authorities
Highlight their careers
Hide in vast minorities
Live in constant fears
Some of their performances
Threaten our rights
Didn't we expect all this
To perpetuate their lies?
So let’s excuse authorities
Their fails and victories
Their top priorities
Their contradictories
Let’s excuse us commons too
Aren’t we all suspected
In the crimes we have to do
For those we elected
They keep worsening our lives
For a greater purpose
And we cannot get more wise
Although we have learnt those
Bitter lessons, but in vain
It’s a sharper’s game
One can vote, or can abstain
It turns out the same
It's always been an uncanny pleasure of mine,
To behold the tetchy affair that thrives between
A gregarious man and his choice crimson wine;
For each loves and loathes in equaled measure.
How both meticulously give and evenly take
To seal the crack that coerced giving claims,
Each ceding ground and forgoing their cake;
And daily perpetuate these love-hate games.
Firstly as the wistful man uncorks the shields,
You'd guess he'll guard the control he wields;
But when the foamy guest oils that willing gut,
Our bloke capricious grows and red eyes shut.
Consensus is drawn and he should grab more,
For buck's there and calling home stands near;
Just a daring thought and some spoiling for war,
For the world's sick and all stationary objects go.
You own it's a profound sight quite rare and fine,
To meet daring men and their dear crimson wine.
In a cyanide night and neon stars, I lose myself in reflections of a mechanical city,
Humans, these flesh-and-blood dreamers, are now mere pulsating organs of machines,
In an eternal dance of digital desire, where each touch is an impulse, each kiss a data transfer.
My consciousness flows through cables and circuits, seeking answers in the labyrinth of steel and light.
I feel our desires, like butterflies trapped in a neon net, fluttering in this synthetic reality,
Are we just cogs in a giant machine, meant to perpetuate a symbiosis of metal and dream?
My heart, once a hearth of passions and emotions, now beats to the rhythm of an atomic clock, precise and cold,
And I wonder if there is any spark of humanity left in this universe of algorithms and tangled wires.
In the stream of thoughts, I see myself in a field of digital flowers, where petals are pixels glowing in the night,
Each flower a lost dream, each fragrance a memory of what we were before becoming organs.
Machines, these deities of steel and light, embrace us with metal arms, promising immortality,
But deep inside, we crave the sun's warm touch, the whisper of wind on our skin.
Are we the creators or the creations? In this symphony of white noise and digital pulses,
Boundaries blur, and I question if there is any difference between organic and synthetic.
Every thought of mine gets lost in the meanders of this hybrid reality, human and machine,
Yet somewhere in the depths of this sea of circuits and tangled wires, a spark of life still flickers.
I wonder if we are the last poets of a dying world or the first prophets of a new era,
As our hands caress keyboards instead of skin, and our eyes lose themselves in pixelated abysses,
I wonder if there is any way back, or if we are doomed to be forever
The sexual organs of the machine world, endlessly reproducing this hybrid reality, neither human nor robot, but something in between.
And so, we wander through cables and circuits, seeking a light, a sign of true love,
In a world of iron and electric dreams, where we are but spirits lost in a dream of steel,
But deep down, we are still dreamers, searching for that spark, that ideal,
Because in the end, we are more than just organs of machines, we are poets of the digital infinite.
Trumpet the ethos of these wading warriors with the hollowed bones
of their panygeric prophets,resonating triumphant tones,
to forever honor,protect,& perpetuate the valor,virtue,& victory of this Holy Order,
the irridescent echo seeps from their Father's tombs,
for what extent shall I blaze myself and minions in the arrows path,
so to coddle an intangible hope made of a prayer's dope,
or in a mind where a prevailing vision roams,
nay, to avert that macbre nightmare of having my People's progeny becoming the pigmy
of a teething tyrant who condones the perversion of civilization's tomes,
a coalesced consciousness consummated by the last bastion
with a vigorous vigil on this Christmas Eve,
solemn and sacramental the emotion is which this of our hearts
the Almighty exhumes,
A dispatched soldier ploying as scout,remote, waiting ignorantly to be smote,
a far but not forgotten armored satellite being selfless,
his vanity enemy's threat consumes,
an unbridled but composed offensive of a triplicate terror delivered
by an indefatigable knight ,
an ultimatum presented simply but also strictly,
one at least his assault maroons,
J.A.B. - Part Four -
I regret the sway, scope and exposure of groups
who perpetuate race and gender nincompoop.
Of course, we are all born equal, come on people!
Upheaval from such is ignorance most feeble.
I bemoan society’s rationality
that steers away from individuality.
When one gives a group all their personality
how shall they tend their own spirituality?
We cannot group-die, or group-rest as group-buried
or ascend with angels to heaven group-carried.
It oftentimes sparks my indignation to flame
when one wears a group identity as their name.
When someone thinks of a group as their family,
their life is a fantasy based on fallacy.
False are group words offering belonging and love,
true are individual zones, love toned above.
It’s normal that group help is a need life may bring
to grow from, not gives one’s soul in a blinding-cling.
Joke was on him
A lie can perpetuate with a blinding speed
Growing on the heels of shameful greed
If enough people believe a con-man's spiel
And blindly proceed to invest in a dubious deal.
He began quite small with his Ponzi scheme
Stomping ruthlessly on gullible citizen's dream
Pretending that he was investing in stock market
Delivering promised returns regularly on target.
Becoming famous as word of high returns spread
Billions he attracted as testimonials mislead,
Paying current clients from new-client receipts
Manipulating his records to hide his deceits.
Although his company was frequently audited
No one could detect the fraud being committed.
Suspicions ran high for returns were unbelievable,
Authorities were fooled by a fraud inconceivable.
Ponzi scheme thrives on constant new cash flow
As new funds meet outflows that continue to grow,
But it collapses in a hurry if new money stops
For clients demand refunds as the company flops.
A market-crash caused new money to dry out
Bringing to a quick end his fraudulent clout
As he confessed to a multibillion fraud scheme
When finally he realized that the joke was on him.
Investors big and small were caught by surprise
Lives that were ruined continue to agonize.
Soon he was arrested for his long tenure of crime
And sentenced to prison for his remaining lifetime.
His son committed suicide overcome by veracity
As his wife deflects shame in solitude of tenacity.
While he sits in jail for a crime of this century
Grievous losses torment lives due to his treachery.
A fraud only propagates till its ultimate demise
For truth always conquers defeating all lies.
November 26, 2017
I started a joke
Sponsor: Maria Williams
First Place
Note: This Ponzi scheme was uncovered after the 2008 market crash. Though the fraudster never invested in the market, new money flow stopped because investors were spooked by the market decline and ensuing recession. He confessed when he couldn't make a multi-billion payment due in 2008. He was sentenced to 150 years in jail. One of his sons committed suicide, the other son died. His brother was also sentenced to jail--all worked for the firm.
I readily admit that at composing poetry I'm a rookie.
I've yet to be invited by a firm to publish for me a "bookie!"
Flattering friends tell me that I'm a budding Robert Frost.
Ha! That I'll believe when my name on a cover is embossed!
I've sent poems to so-called experts - they claim they are smitten!
Oft they gush, "My boy, that's the greatest poem ever written!"
But do they offer for my chef d'oeuvre any remuneration?
No! For inclusion in THEIR book I must pay THEM compensation!
"Win thousands of dollars in prizes!" the journals proclaim!
"Enter our contest and you'll garner world-wide acclaim!
You have a genius for expressing your thoughts!" they often say.
I've yet to see my poems even published as "Poem of the Day!"
"You're invited to our convention to read your poem!" they gush!
"The spotlight is on you - over the audience falls a hush!"
Is it worth paying two-thousand bucks for a tad of fleeting fame?
I think not - please include me out of your nefarious game!
I'll wager Poe, Guest, Burns, Keats or even Ogden Nash,
Didn't have to go thro' such inane folderol to make a smash!
They can keep their anthologies, I'll not perpetuate their scams.
I'll just keep composing for kith and kin my very humble gems!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
This sums up my experience with poetry.com!!
A caste preservationist favors separation
of White from NonWhite races.
Racists come in two varieties,
but both behaviorally support White privileged apartheid,
if not in what we liberally say
about capitalism's free
and irresponsible speech marketing way
then in what we conservatively do
Too comfortable with neighbor-hooded
apartheid school
and patriarchal church
historical monoculturing segregation
practicing our habitual systemic trauma
combative politics of xenophobic mistrust.
Racists favor separation of positive light
v negative dark eumemic cultures
to perpetuate economic
and political partisan praxis
of ChosenPeople irreligious superiority
An ongoing "upper-self" v "lower-othered"
disempowering
unenlightened "winner" v "loser"
systemic trauma narrative.
There is no authentic empowerment side
of love
in this history of racist segregation
because we are all apartheid losers
when we prefer to fly apart
And stronger when we fly together
more polyculturally inter-religious
deep listening enriched
By our choices for inclusive community investment,
when and where we seek divine empowerment
of MotherNature's cooperative multicultured purse?
rather than monotheistic business
as win v lose 0-sum
northern light v southern dark
anthro-privileged
bipolar
oppositionally defiant
caste-preserving usual
Competing to defend
birthright v birthwrong
long separated standing
in life's lesser survivalist
v greater thrivalist
apartheid pecking order
A dull monoculturing defensive position
within Win v Lose strategic oppositions,
entirely inappropriate for organic Gaia's
WinAnthroWealth/WinEarthHealth
polyculturing positive eumemic
pronoia
Healthier and wealthier
and wiser resonant opportunities together
than dissonantly risky
xenophobic paranoid behavior
dark deadly caste apart.