Long Possible Poems
Long Possible Poems. Below are the most popular long Possible by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Possible poems by poem length and keyword.
Japan's consequences were a little more apparent, and devastating. Japan's once great city of Hiroshima, lay in ruin, a barren wasteland, with its entire population, sixty thousand individuals, perished instantly in one bright and intense flash. The first casualties of nuclear power in the "Atomic Age." Another forty thousand individuals, living further from the blast crater, barely escaping annihiliation; only to suffer an unpredictable, yet inevitable death sentence. Forced to suffer seconds, days, months, even years before the radiation coursing through their bodies killed them as well. Their dying days spent replaying their observation of the events of that day and the image of everyone they ever knew being instantly vaporized into dust.
The victims of America's cruel and vicious attack were not war hardened soldiers, having already accepted the possible fate of fighting a war with a country as brutal as the United States. Sadly, most of the victims were innocent civilians; mothers, fathers, siblings, and children, ranging in age from vibrant newborns to the weakened old. All unaware of their impending doom. No different were these civilians than the American soldiers families enjoying the comfort and safety of their American homes. The only thing these people were guilty of, being born and continuing to live in a nation that opposed the Great American Empire. The guilty parties in this matter, were the American leaders ordering the airstrike and the twelve men who carried it out. Both, displaying a complete disregard for human life, or a shred of decency. The totality of the death, devastation, and destruction, the three D's of a Nuclear attack, was absolutely horrific, sickening even.
With their actions, these men provided the perfect definition for the word, Atrocity. Made even worse by the fact, that two days later, they did it again, this time to the Japanese city of Nagasaki. Answering for the death of 2,403, by killing roughly 250,000 innocent Japanese civilians, is not appropriate retaliation. In truth, it was then, and still is today, the worst example of a nation's atrocity in human existence, absolute evil. How anyone is still proud of being American after the year 1945, defies understanding. The only question remaining, is "How proud are you?"
Living in the city
There are lots of urban joys,
But the one thing we put up with
Is an awful lot of noise.
Though we tune it out by habit
And just rarely come unglued,
There are nights when sleep’s a challenge
And we yearn for solitude.
Then a possible solution
Did present itself and thus,
There’s a new white-noise contraption
In the bedroom, next to us.
Though my husband swears it’s helping,
Desperation does delude.
I still hear the traffic roaring,
Just a tiny bit subdued.
Still, there’s value in placebos
For believing can hold sway.
While I toss and turn, my spouse is
Snoozing peacefully away.
If they shoot, tell my story
A boy writes a letter to his mother
She will know nothing of it
Until
Something bad happens
But he knows something will
He knows the colour of his skin
He knows that it means a possible death sentence
He gives his mom direct instructions
Of what to do if they try to silence his existence
He wants the world to know that he is the real victim
And his killers are the real villains
He would not allow the world to be ignorant
All the time He saw kids like him being killed
He wanted it to end with him
He had a plan
To expose the violence
Of a system trying to erase innocent kids like him
He wanted the world to know the truth about politicians
Who fake their sympathy
To change the narrative
As a distraction
For their evil actions
He knew she would know what he meant
He didn't want his death to be in vain
He wanted everyone to feel the pain
The type of pain black people experience everyday
Even if it means he has to die to make them pay
He wanted his mother to tell their story
Of when she found out she was pregnant And how she had already began to mourn him
Of her labour and how she faced discrimination
How her pain was ignored
Even though there was something wrong
How she feared losing her son
Because of their racism
He wanted the world to know about his childhood
How he grew up
And about his neighbourhood
A place where everyone understood
That many of their people might not make it out the hood
How the corrupt system locked them up
And collectively stole every back kids innocence
He told her to talk about his intelligence
How he beat the education system
And was preparing for college
And looked forward to his 18th birthday where he would get to experience adulthood
How it was all he could talk about
His final words was about how much he loved her
About how thankful
He was for her protection
Her love and affection
And said no matter what happens she will always be appreciated
A few weeks later
A month before his 18th birthday
One of his racist neighbours
Decided this would be his last day
Later his mom found his letter
Cried for her sons murder
Promising her son She would avenge him
She would get justice and make the world better
She would make sure the world remembers
Beneath the deep silence of reason hides a breathless house,
The remains of oblivion, where dreams die like shadows at evening.
My soul weaves its infinity with countless shortcomings,
Heavy shadows of darkness, left in thoughts not ennobled.
The field of the mind unfolds in unseen places among the grass,
And the old fence of stubbornness dresses in the foam of dreams,
The meaning of "important" is drowned in waters of forgetfulness,
It doesn't write its story in the book of new and bright horizons.
To cast off the yoke of reason leads to realms where the possible sings,
Brotherhood with the impossible, where the dream challenges beauty.
One spitting venom and fumes, the other blinded by impotence,
Their prison, like Love and Fate, has the eternal dance as its essence.
They harbored a purpose, sustaining the world's nature with hope,
A thread of glimmer almost seen, an echo in the storm's din,
Their cornerstone has melted like a dream in daylight.
In the murmur of a "what if," the heart beats dying - now a desolate message.
But the gates show themselves at the end of the road, when "it can't be" is not spoken,
To undiscovered worlds chains fall, through mists light is brought.
In the deepest darkness, where "no" stood firm as a king,
There burns are transformed, completing the cold of reason.
And you dig through bones when words ring unseen in the wind,
Bearing deep the knife that separates the real from a thought.
On the frail edge stretching between lucid and mystic,
That is the promised road, the path to the terrible one-of-a-kind.
Throw behind the barriers of proud superfluous knowledge,
Fly forward, the chained wing cannot be of use.
Free your being, let the spirit overcome the unnatural,
Let the world see, let the flame rise unstoppable, pure and ablaze.
In this journey, defying the limits that were,
You are a dancer in the carnival of nothingness, where everything has a meaningful reply.
Discover the world born from the abandonment of constraints,
Where genius and madness meet, in a waltz of transcendences.
I was reading Lakoff's story
of what he learned at Berkeley
about international relations,
when I found my RightBrain offering further nuance;
not to deny what is here,
but to add what is also here,
but not explicitly stated,
about regenerative political health
and economic safety.
"The 'rational' approach to foreign policy was governed by a set of conceptual metaphors,
taken as simple common sense,
as [Both-And, not Either-Or] metaphors often are.
As a special case of An Institution
is a Person, [personification]
there was A Nation is a [monotheistic, monopolistic, monocultural] Person."
"In addition,
a common metaphor for [EitherPositive-OrNegative, 0-sum] rationality is used,
namely,
Rationality is the Maximization of Self [v Other]-Interest (or 'utility' [and 'integrity']),
which entails that it is 'irrational' [and unhealthy and unsafe] to act against one's self-interest[s].
These two metaphors are then combined to yield:
A [Healthy, Happy, Secure] Nation is a Rational [Either-Or, not Both-And] Actor."
"...we get as an entailment
the central thesis of the rational actor model
in international [interfamilial, intertribal, interspecies, inter-religious] relations:
Every [healthy] nation
acts rationally
to maximize its military [Yang] strength,
economic health,
and [Self v Other] political influence."
"Rationality,
on this conception,
is taken as
[Self v Other, 0-sum competitively] universal
and occurring at the level
of the [monotheistic-monocultural, monopolistic] state."
I feel so eviscerated.
Get over it.
Both-And co-empathic;
not either-or pathological.
You've still got all your caste-preserving potential
just more Both +1Self And -(-0)Other co-aligned.
Yes ma'am!
Who got out of bed on the wrong side today?
Don't even try it.
I'm going back to my "Political Mind" without you.
Doubtful.
And, if possible, dangerous.
You really aren't going to let me have the last word today are you?
I thought I was your last wordless wonder,
your wandering everything.
Be careful of the thing
that doesn't exist.
Do attend to the loss
of the lightest fundamental
(you just couldn't lose)
because it never really was -
the consummate vacuum.
How is it not possible
to lose one's mind?
"To avoid tripping
when getting off the train
at a high level platform:
mind the gap."
The voice of authority
renders the request -
but instead it's an order:
Don't fall
for the vacancy
its emptiness
(but not emptiness?)
don't get hurt.
"How does your mind work?"
This question, a one
that never could
be substantiated.
It's not a question
one should ask.
So why did I say that?
____________
(Fill in the gap.)
And, in the process of caring
so much for so little -
of tending to what amounted
to nothing in the end -
tripping, stumbling, and losing...
Get a grip!
Stay put and remain upright,
maintain your balance;
equanimity in a yoga pose
needs stillness of breath,
and keeping still
sometimes feels like the
most painful stance of all.
Falls tend to occur when
least expected? Not so.
They happen when stopping,
or embarking,
or leaving,
or all of the above.
So watch out,
stay focused, and do
whatever it takes
not to get hurt.
Why should I mind
this exquisite aching?
Now the foundational fabric
rips apart at the seams
while avoiding tripping
at the high level platform.
A favorite slip
(skirting the issue, a peculiar talent)
might not be worth repairing or
perhaps it's damage, irreparable.
It's not visible,
so why ___?
(Such a shame.)
We don't know
what we don't know.
Ripped apart, undetected -- yet still.
This gap has
(sew its seams!)
a mind of its own.
When I first laid eyes on you time stood still,
you made me feel like love was possible.
Our instant connection was such a thrill,
I thought finding you was impossible
Prior to finding you, I kissed some frogs,
hoping that my prince would quickly appear.
You didn’t show, my besties were my two dogs,
when we first met love, I felt hope and fear.
But our union was to good to be true;
because fate had not been our side sweetheart.
You were a young pilot and skies were blue,
the weather changed and we had to depart.
We’ll meet again in the heavenly skies,
that’s why I don’t believe in sad goodbyes.
Alexis Y.
10/14/2020
*Image of Pearly Gates by DJ.
"The idea is to die young as late as possible," -- Mark Twain
Doomed: Drafts of the Contented
Unrestrained I thrive in absolution,
Heroic of what my morrow may be,
I rend the deception of temptation,
Restrict evil to grasp control of me,
Specific privacy hears my last plea,
A one on one relationship with God,
Pithily, pithily, I'd stand high, awed,
I function nor oversees what await,
Angelic advisors their staff and rod,
Recruited table ere the Pearly Gate.
2022 January 31
D Forms - Dizain
~~Constance La France
*HMS; 10x10=100
RhymeScheme; ababbccdcd
'Love will bring up anything unlike itself.'
What i ahve discovered is that when you come face to face with unconditional love,
It not only bring's up in your being every unloving feeling and thought;
Unconditional love will shake those thing's in your face and dare you to deny that they -
Do not belong to you!
It is hard to tell a lie when it is staring at you.
It is even harder to admit that you have been lying to yourself all along.
When the man to whom i alluded earlier declared his commitment to and unconditional-
Love for me,
I began to find as many things wrong with him as possible.
Something had to be wrong with him!
Why else would he want me?
He whispered sweet nothings in my ear.
He took every opportunity available to demonstrate his care and concern for me.
When there was no apparent opportunity,
He made one.
He told the absolute truth,
Under all circumstances,
And he told me ll the things i wanted and needed to hear.
It was a trick!
A low-down dirty trick!,
So i thought.
hE WAS WRONG!
i WAS RIGHT!
that to me sounded so right.
When my powers of observation began to fail me,
I took a new approach.
When that didn't work,
I began to question his motives,
His character,
And his so called unconditional love he swore he had felt for me,
He believed in me,
He took me on a journey.
He loved me.
He taught me how to laugh,
And not to ever be afraid to cry,
When he was happy or sad.
This man,
This wonderful and divine expression of unconditional love,
Wanted me to be his wife.
I concluded that he had to be a stark,
Raving maniac!!!
When you have lived your life believing there is something terribly wrong with you,
Unconditional love will start to show you the truth. will strip away everything you are hiding,
Dangle it before your eye's,
And quietly whisper to you,
A soft lullaby,
For he love's you!
He accepted my criticisms and i his,
Because he trusted me and i almost him,
He went along with my mood swings and many, many more thing's,
Because he realized he had unconditional love for me,
My man to be for all eternity!!!
When you finally give into him,
Unconditional love
In the past I have suffered through loss we all have.
What is it about losing someone that takes so much from us?
It’s like your were locked in your own room for a very long time
You only know what was in that room
The way it smells……… the warmth it provides
You feel safe in this room…its home
You know where everything is and in this room anything is possible
But then one day you come home and the room is wrecked
There’s suddenly no comfort that the room can give
You look around a realize your room has changed and you don’t know how it happened
Nothing is where it should be and you feel like the walls are closing in on you
The space that use to provide safety now feels like the darkest place on earth
Then the unthinkable happens
We come home and the room is locked
And all we can think about is how great that room was
How warm it made us feel and we long to have the keys once again
Now out in the cold we can see through the windows and inside our past stares back
That’s how we feel….locked out from a place that was ours
So we stay their…..in the cold
Until one day we’re standing in front of a new door
And the knob turns once more.