Long Philosophic Poems
Long Philosophic Poems. Below are the most popular long Philosophic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Philosophic poems by poem length and keyword.
Somewhere in the pretty petty imaginary illusion of delusion
There lies a truth an edifice of search between obtuse confusion
Windows like brick walls and concrete blocks birthing the light
Nails to be nailed screws to be screwed with monumental sight
A life a building fortress sand castle beach hut nutter’s dream
Maybe a prison with towers barbed wire fences mindful scream
Some multi storied paradise no choke on apple’s stem or core
No passion fruit in torture chambers shackles behind and to the fore
No hidden attic and no cellar no stellar fantasy no quick descent
For now simply one dimension deserted plain hopes to ferment
Scraping no skies a cave hovel card board box a bombed out grave
Nothing to hold onto no graces left spent and ravished naught to save
Is it magic thought provoked delusion of illusion alluded distortion
Who knows does it matter I suppose it does in incomplete reapportion
Some are born in a manger on the fields of labour some with a silver spoon
Surely some would rather have foundations a ceiling not some lonely moon
Get me not wrong as singing the praises of romantic poverty and dearth
Icy cold and freezing bones do not bear up to sound safe privilege in birth
Yet from the scraping nib and luxury of pen in hand and philosophic mind
Not wishing to lack compassion nor cementing over cracks so misaligned
We are the builders of our lives to some extent despite the vagaries so vast
Can we find a staircase upwards some sliding pole to reach out for the past
In such compassion regardless of painful structures and abandoned need
Is some notion some motion of change and nourishment star dust to feed
In God we trust nihilism architecture Karma fate Nirvana hard core grind?
No valid answers but questions loving search for quiet mindfulness in kind
thesis: strength endures voids and emptiness.
strength constructs no homes (antithesis:
if your house leaks then on swollen days
in sullen seasons there is no home for you)
there is endless repetitious strength
enduring endlessly there is this paradox:
strength is the void endured and consequently
synthesis: enter everybody’s anti-hero cross-eyed,
sees crossed eyes cross-eyed but looking in his eyes
sees straight, sees sick, sees something monstrous
something insect, sees this philosophic frippery:
that is sees man
endures in his mirror that is self-doubt,
his left arm being his right arm
his left eye sees his right eye
and no eye sees his nose right.
synthesis: enter naked the hero’s fists blazing
won’t put up with that mirror is laughing
smashing his left hand smashing his right hand
breaks his wrath in half–
enter the dumb smile of blissful blindness or
dumb sadness belting down a drink
enter an angel’s colorful rags and bells
enter a man in colorful sights and smells
enter blonde beauty dragging a bulging jock.
there is the entrance where they enter through
the black hole with crescent thin edges
the animal den the fish smell the ocean motion
there is women’s strength endures the stretch
forty-eight hours of warm pain
two hours of sharp pain around midnight
last sight the tippy-toppy veins of its head
bled and blood and body and push push Push–
and the tide goes out,
enter sleep.
Today is Sunday and I'm going to the ocean
or maybe not. Definitely not doing the laundry
or maybe I will. Moss and even a small tree
grow in the rotten stubs of the pier pilings.
The city is Seattle and it has a macho airport.
Give me the comfort of a moose knowing its
water supply. The mosquito's acceptance of its position
among a million mosquitoes. The pool of stagnant
water that remains one with the mothering ocean.
I drift on the air, less than a seed, a bacteria.
Or I am human, big dick, big brain containing
universal philosophic affidavit. Pleased by
the churning of my tongue, sexual enlightenment,
devout prayer, gourmet dining. I swear
it is best to be alive and to have loved Mary.
I thought poetry is
-name of Mesopotamia which was the first civilization to emerge in human history
-ancient cave peoples surviving life struggle
I thought poetry is
-an immortal love story of Yousuf- Zulekha, Shirin-Farhad, Laila-Majnu or Romeo-Juliet
-a telephonic or open love conversation of smiling postmodern girls
-drying wet colorful clothes of beloved in the courtyard of the house
-haring of beloved with tuberose garland before a mirror
I thought poetry is
-lizards chirping from the deserted house; cockroach flying
-quarrelsome cats in the black dark or barking dogs
-the struggle of mosquito for human blood
-traveling of the arrogant indecent animals all over the night
I thought poetry is
-thrilling venturous ghostly stories of J. K. Rowling
-self-expression of known-unknown writers
-unspoken tale of a war-wounded soldier
-the regret of the thousands of dead soldiers
-the unwritten fantasy of an isolated poet
-the lonely guitar or ektara of dead singers
I thought poetry is
-without reel tie an independent flying of a kite in the sky
-in the blue sky sovereign flapping of birds
-movement of invisible winds everywhere
-hearing story of fairytale crossing of green forest
I thought poetry is
-handmade airing of newly married girl to a new groom in lunch time
-dyed hands of nubile girls by mehndi,
-captivating sounds of jingling anklet and kamarband of dancing damsels
I thought poetry is
-classic music of Pandit Ravi Shankar
-immortal tune of Ustad Bismillah Khan's shehnai
-compilation of humanitarian lyrics of the legend Bob Marley
-heart touching reciting of the Holy Quran of Qari Abdul Basit
I thought poetry is
-unforgettable philosophical discussion of Socrates with his disciples
-the philosophic lineage of learning such as Socrates-Plato-Aristotle
-immortal scientific creations of Newton, Galileo, Einstein, Nikola Tesla, Hawking
I thought poetry is
-unremitting prayer or worship of any prevailed religion devotee to get heaven
-inhuman history of bombing on the Hiroshima and Nagasaki or brutality of 1st or 2nd World War
These all are just my thinking,
my thinking is free
on my path
but poetry is poetry,
more than any thinking, many more;
on its path
Poetry is independent fully
-June 27, 2019 Chattogram
So I added a new word to my description of self
Sapiophile, romantically attracted to intelligence wealth
If you are smart and have that laser keen mind
I want to know you, explore you deeper in kind
I enjoy finding out the things that make you tick
your accomplishments, your passions, your bucket list
It is a discovery for me and the deepest of sharing
and after that deep intellectual exchange it leads to caring
So if you want the keys to me, the thing that drops me into the emotional being, And gets me past the logical, philosophic seeing
Able to drop into feeling space
and more similar to the rest of the human race
Its brains.
Its brains, the Sapiophile - Artimus (C) Susan Manley 2/05/23 12:03 PM
P.S. I give good brain :D
when the rich wage war, it is the poor who die
overflowing their bank accounts as they lie
hiding behind niceties as they make us slaves
wars made to control us, which they create and crave
when will we learn that segregation is to take?
not just our lives, homes and human rights are at stake
but our very souls as they bury the light within
greedy addiction their only means to a dead end
creating the armageddon to prove true false prophets
we bought into their “good book” as right and philosophic
it is easier to place our sins under another’s blame
accept forgiveness, as we turn inconceivably insane
society claiming no responsibility for their actions
defying the laws of decency in self-righteous reactions.
absolution is not possible in our religious fervor
we despise ourselves internally as sheep and follower.
jesus might forgive our sins, and that a slim chance.
will those we torture and persecute join this happy dance?
nothing will become nothing and so it shall return to be
that we are insignificant as human species.
when the rich wage war, it is the poor who die
without the poor the rich cannot feed their lie.
no one is left to support their arrogant farce
destroying planet earth, corruption on the march
slavery, pride, taking of life (any life), lying and cheating,
coveting the jones’ wife or boat or house, abusive wife beating
in the name of their god that is not balanced in polarity
is the way to chaos and darkness in the laws of scarcity.
believing that your actions are not your own
belong to a horrendous force, the cyclone
thinking that you are above judgment of deeds
is foolish, arrogant, capitulates and concedes
to empty spaces in heart and mind
for darkness to dwell within and find
a breeding ground for despair and pain
chained to the physical you remain.
when the rich wage war, it is the poor who die
without the poor, the rich cannot feed their lie.
Unity of the Trinity in Christianity
The Triune Allah-Jesus-Mary concept of Islam
The Brahma-Vishnu-Shiva... one with the humanity
All amalgamate into sole wholeness and grand great charm...
Inner ethical fiber as a solid foundation
Extended rhythmic reality bonds with each being.
Incorporation, like butter with bread, truth collation
Accomplished with the self of one and the other freeing...
Physico-psychic-spiritual warmth, like gems, adorned
Socio-poltico-economic rules, like galaxies, set
Philosophic-theosophic-historic thoughts thronged
Inner equilibrium eases each and every threat...
The three-legged table, thus, does many meanings disburse.
This, in its integral form, is a unique universe...
Bedtime stories rode to magical realms
night lights turned off her shining smile
in a blanket of hug and lukewarm kisses,
a sweet birdsong pulled eyelid curtains
and innocence fell asleep by mummy's side.
Exam time cramming the night before
a battle of stress to get into college
burning of minds and rustling of books
trying hard not to sleep, scattered revisions
and exertion fell asleep by table-lamp side
Late night thoughts of a special friend
unfolding slowly, inside a dream awake
exciting promise, ablaze heart in journey
draped in rainbow, soaked in jubilant rain
and love fell asleep by a rose-tint bedside
A sleepwalking mind in philosophic soul
no more struggle in trying to be someone
a poet in peace building words into dream
sitting by the shore, seashells of memories
and in lullaby waves, falls asleep by seaside.
29th May, 2020
Sponsor Kai Michael Neumann
Contest Name Falling |
Wandering around the earth saying you love me? What do you know of love..,
If I thought you knew anything of love I would've stayed..
yes, there beside you in that little house, in that little bed.
Not just locked away inside that thick head.
(I can't tell her she is only a figment)
Well., easy enough to talk to a shadow, you cast one too. Change the radio station to your oldies, but don't see me, don't even listen.
Remember that day you walked me to my Psych 101 class?
You didn't even try, you didn't reach for my hand, and now I don't care.
(I can't tell her she is only a figment)
There are codes in all of life, I built mine around them. To get past my past, trying to tell you it. I was in mortal combat with depression. You never knew how dark those days could get. Always smiling; handing me a crummy flower. You never had any codes, no morals, only music. Yet you dare to think you love me.
(I can't bear to tell her she is only a figment)
If I thought you knew anything of love I would've stayed.
Yes, there beside you in that little house, in that little bed.
Not just locked away inside that thick head.
Victorious and Just, Thus in thy Sword of Spirit I Trust
by Shield and Helmet, I AM REXIMUS MAXIMUS
forged through the Flames this soul is wrought
Unbought, Uncaged, by the Fire I Rise Up
treading the Valleys towards Higher Ground
In Noble Steeds, Noble Ideals and Noble Crowns
No Fetter Unchecked, the Jives Vibe to Holy Sounds
by Great Infinities, in Great Divinity, to the Solars Unbound
where the Trumpets Rumble through the Gates and Pillars and Palisades
comes the Mountain Lions, Desert Paladins, and New Age Crusades
towards Glory Days and High Ways, in Maximum Faith
first Inburst, second Outburst, finally Upward by the Sacred Flame
where Diadems are claimed for those Chosen, Golden, Sentinels
Comes Nigh, Upright, we Fly High like Generals
turning the Golden Page where the Golden Scrolls Illuminate
and the Great Way comes forth to Scintillate,
to the Stars and Beyond in Philosophic Ways
to claim the Emerald Stone that Forever Coruscates,
and the Heavens Awaken like Ancient Days
to what the Soul has Forgotten, and Thus the Blade Reclaims
Ever-Onward, beyond the Iron and Bronze
like Saint Sae'm towards Gilded Songs,
songs that Touch and Ignite the Fires Within
and Erupt to what No Man Can Touch, to what No Man can Claim
and so, Not By The Lesser, but by The Greater We Must
to reach the Precipice, of the Best Of Us, I AM REXIMUS MAXIMUS