Long Perspective Poems
Long Perspective Poems. Below are the most popular long Perspective by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Perspective poems by poem length and keyword.
Wisdom co-arises with integrity
to empower bilateral
and multilateral consciousness
of robust polycultural knowing
climates of better global health
through local nonviolent communication safety.
Safety is organically healthy felt
co-arising sufficient co-investment thoughts,
not precluding,
nor presuming,
social distancing
yet within active hope of full circle winning
interdependent call and response,
Listening for both/and feelings speaking
healing egocentric bodies
restorying ecosystemic habitats
of warm
engaging
cooperative hospitality
in-between integrity's seductive enlightenment
and wisdom's inductive empowerment.
Kate Shemirani
You tossed your cape
Walked heart burning
A stand to make
You became by default
Freedoms M C
And on the attack'
Calling out medical; hypo-cracy
Genocide in stilted tone; acclaimed
At davos' you helped make known'
Your fight and fervor
For God and right
Shone in Britians covid nights'
Reiner Füllmich Dr Coleman
Just some allies against
The grotesqe and gruesome
I applaud today, your sense of right
All reality enjoins' I regard the plight
I pit my worth; i make the stand'
I support humanity innately grand
(You do no harm) in speech and act
What the n h s deride you so well enact'
Your days of study; your years of care
Has gained respect, just everywhere'
The title of Doctor I ascribe you here
The only one thats fitting
By a whole light year.'
God bless you Dr Shemirani
“Life is pain.” the pirate said.
“Anything else is a lie.”
We all feel pain, in some small way,
From the day we’re born ‘til the day we die.
The pain of saying “Hello.” the first time,
Knowing you’ll eventually say “Goodbye.”
The pain of heartbreak and betrayal.
The pain of letting go.
The pain of words unjustly spoken,
Then the pain of hearing what’s true.
The pain of change, for better or worse.
The pain of something new.
The pain of failing, and trying again,
With the pain of pushing through.
The special pain of a good spar with a friend
As you walk away black and blue.
The pain of memories, bitter and sweet,
Or of forgetting all you knew.
The pain of searching, and that of finding,
It’s not what you dreamed it’d be.
The pain of joy as it overflows.
The pain when we finally see:
Those in the grave feel nothing at all,
And one day that’s where we’ll be.
So welcome the pain and the challenge it brings.
Do all you can to survive.
Remember that pain, whether good or bad,
Reminds us that we’re alive.
Foureyes is my name.
Seeing everything in the frame,
On the left,
On the right,
Everything is blurry to my sight.
Which is good from my perspective,
Less definition is my objective.
As the vision blurs,
Everything becomes a new object,
Not seen by everyone,
Until I paint it,
Like the sun!
An orange glow,
With range and depth,
Only I know!
Finding things that are undone,
Makes my pictures so much fun.
My mother says," Can't you match colors?
Even your clothes just aren't right"!
My father says," I'll go out with you at night,
Then no one will see,
You're such a sight"!
Until one day,
As I'm traipsing along,
I met a model,
Singing my song!
"You have a most unusual view,
I think we can make money with what you do"!
So now I am on every magazine cover!
And the model I met,
Became my lover!
Foureyes is my name,
I think that is right for me,
As I play this game.
As I sit here thinking about
Well about all the things you say
But never do.
But I love you.
So I sit
Time after time
Life after life
Feeling less human
And more animated.
Color me to beautiful again
In your sight.
Not to be set aside.
You always let me go
But I love you.
And I need you.
Not to be my knight in armor.
Just to be mine.
But you love me?
Only when I'm still.
Where you go
I wait.
Where you sit
I stand.
Where you sleep
I guard.
And when you fall
I carry.
So you love me...
Where does that love take you?
Or me?
Am I ever going to be
Just me?
Or us?
Just you?
Or us?
Can you just see outside
These walls of glass?
Too thick to break
And too tall to climb.
If only you cared about you,
About life.
You live every moment in yesterday.
And the sadness takes you away.
Away from here
And there
From us
And them
From you
And me
Please come to me
Please look at me
And try to see YOU
in my love.
My flesh
My song
I see you torn in pieces
Left about and scattered
With no regard for you.
But I see you as no one can
My soul hears your cry
And weeps with you.
I couldn't suppress
How music makes me feel if I tried
It comforts me
It spirits me away
From stressors of the day
It's almost like magic
How it buoys my spirit
From song to song on my playlist
Bobbing my head front and back
Grooving side-to-side
It gets my fingers snappin'
And my hands clappin'
And my feet tappin'
It makes me dance
Like nobody's watchin'
A good beat keeps my body movin'
When I'm in the club, whooping it up
When I'm at the gym, sweating it out
When I'm at home, relaxin'. I love music...
It doesn't matter the genre or language
Submitted for...
Strand Select Y,Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest (Winner: 1st Place)
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Date: 02/22/2020
Date written and posted: 05/26/2019
Like a dandelion seed slowly drifting by
I watch as they make their way to the sky
Lifting upward as life’s race is run
Leaving the earth and heading toward the sun.
Fading away as their candle burns out
Leaves me wondering what life is about.
When we were young we never gave it a thought;
Now as we ponder we do so with fraught.
As I approach the winter of my life
Watching friends leave cuts like a knife.
I wonder if I have been a good friend,
And hopefully I have done nothing to offend.
And what about me when my time is here;
Can I look in the mirror with my conscience clear?
Or will my friends’ memory of me decry
As they watch my dandelion seed drift by.
"It does not matter how others see you; what makes all the difference is how you see yourself" - by poet
To say that I am "flawed" is just an "illusion."
I may seem "imperfect," but you only see my "facade."
To most, I look "torn" and "broken." To those who look
deep enough, they will see a ferocious lion. Some have
even called me dandy. I am strong! I am resilient! You called me a nasty weed. Then I dazzled you with my bright smile.
I took off the "mask" and pushed myself up through the concrete. I "cracked" the barrier meant to keep me down.
You see just a puny weed. I see a strong, beautiful flower.
I am Mighty. I am a Dandelion.
I had a niece named Karen who
at twenty has mapped out a plan
for a 'strong, independent life',
she’d be 'dependent on no man.'
And, oh, she took such pride in that,
her college had made her this way,
but badmouthing men for the past
seems quite dumb, so I had my say:
“While I cannot disagree that
women once needed men to survive,
or even that it was dependence,
but with perspective you will find
“that woman may have needed men
to have a good supply of cash,
if you look closer at marriage,
it’s far more complicated than that.
“While the women back then had to
be quite dependent on their men,
the man then were dependent too,
quite dependent on their women.
“If a man want to have a home
that was even worth inhabiting,
he could not do this on his own
when out for twelve hours working.
“There simple wasn’t time enough
when out all day plowing things up,
if a man didn’t have a wife
he’d have little more than a hut.
“And then there also are children,
the only way most men live on,
few are writers or geniuses,
so who recalls us when we’re gone?
“They were dependent on women
not just to make the kid exist,
but to mold that man’s dear child,
to teach them to live and persist.
“To take the soul you value most,
then entrust it to another…
Men were totally dependent on
the woman they chose as mother.
“Also consider the fact that men
are wired to show love through sex,
just like romance is for women,
and though this leaves some ladies vexed,
“it’s how men are put together,
for guys to give and receive love
they again rely on women,
without them their emotions get rough.
“In nations where men can’t get this
their aggression will destabilize
the society around them,
they depend on women to survive.
“So don’t say this goes all one way
when you whine about dependence,
honestly, is seems that we are
engineered to be compliments.”
I hoped she’d find some use for this,
but I guess, for now, I was wrong,
she huffed and stormed out of the room,
the indoctrination is strong.
The Spectre of sex appeal by Salvador Dali 1934
On the right-hand bottom side, we see Dalí as a
child, dressed as a sailor, observing his monstrosity
I misunderstand, tell what is the plan
As I change from juvenile into man
Her formation intrigues and repulses
Instead of control, there are impulses
Her head morphs upon a backdrop mountain
Sack cloth breasts, stem flow of sandy fountains
Solid rock womb, born of imperfection
The spectre miscarries, sans reflection
Propped up and falls forward in painful lurch
Composite pieces, on acceptance search
Ossified limbs, mangled bone skewers stone
Destined to experience life alone
She poses in pain and reeks of decay
I stand with a hoop, brought along to play
Ignores my advances, falling apart
I’ll return with barbed wire to bind her heart
No more cushioned stumps or flailing crutches
Unraveling her knots, where flesh touches
I’ll fashion a cross and burial mound
Existence fades as parts crash to the ground
Parts don’t stay buried, so I light a fire
Warm them back up, on a funeral pyre
My god she’s beautiful, I’m overcome
We join together in flames, curse undone