Long Predictable Poems
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Me think it's true that one day time shall be no more. Me think that 'mere oblivion' may be the dying wish
of those claiming to be 'master of their own ship'. In eternity's world, there can be only 'One Master'.
Me think it's not true that all the world's a stage. Notwithstanding, there are scenes enough to amaze,
and no shortest of interesting parts and people to engage. A broad stage where all may and ought have their say.
But also narrow stages that invite trouble, darkening our day. A world of 'make-believe feelings of reality' that we wish were true.
Platforms and plots enough for all, including me and you; plenty of room for the many and the few; and gifted works, old and new.
Human drama is broad and twisting; faithful as the morning dew. May all captives of ignorance and fear be released from their cage.
Last scene, last act; and for the last time, the curtain is raised. The story line and character performance left the audience ablaze.
A staged world, one so predictable, pristine, and finite. Eternity's world is a never ending story, and another page. 03242017; Premier Contest, Brian Strane
Remember...Remain Calm, Collected, And Cool...
Matthew Scott Harris...ARG
This, a near imp
possible mantra to apply
when this 2009
Macbook Pro went awry
triggering this enduser
to experience tidal waves of high
anxiety, which besieged this fie
foo fighting dirt po' pa well nigh,
who might need buy
another laptop, yet my
anorexic checking account
on life support, no lie
could not afford, (to sigh
phone even one red cent,
all because ordinary healthy
electrons deployed aye
did NOT see usual expected
predictable apple luck
quiche hun activity via my
left and right eye,
yours truly did not espy
usual kickstarting linkedin magic after
preliminary electronic setup
unexpectedly failed to start -
no idea why
unbeknownst tummy, what
ghost in the machine didst defy
programming code of honor,
whereby pixel display
unexpectedly exhibited "abnormal"
computer behavior -
like a turncoat ally
meaning one hoop wrest
illegally start button signaling
subatomic warfare unleashing - guy
did missiles as taught
during routine training
to turn bot tin down stevedores
loose on the Jobs (dan-g) rather, I
watched slack jawed,
as that very singularly narrow
vertical lined band width
(analogous to a medium black
sabbath tipped magic marker)
did NOT display
prestidigitation instantaneous flash
demarcating binary DMZ
(demon mailer zone,
viz dividing screen in half, -
versus top to bottom array), qua
incomplete automatic
initialization stopped
partway thru automatic preparation,
after which cryptic
error message appeared,
which malfunction found me
bursting with damned tears,
and ready to cry,
(which gush of tear
rivalled Hurricane Florence),
cuz mechanical and/or
application so much
of my creative
write minded person
(reed literary) self choked life vie
ability to live, thus the only alternative
...insane asylum to apply!
--------------------------------
SPOILER ALERT...
postscript: after some fluke brought
desk top in view, the quick thinking
chap attached an external drive to a
USB port, and thus breathed easier
knowing a backup got made.
Revelations about Dad’s infamous midnight lectures...
woke up courtesy therapy
Especially during past session
on May eighth
two thousand twenty one
between the hours of five and
six o'clock post meridiem.
Between three and four score years ago
the following poetic ill winds did blow
yours truly felt like carrion
repurposed courtesy black crow
decimated to bajillion pieces
analogous to deaf eat, viz bitter foe
where within bared mine soul
telltale toxin did glow
yes dear reader cumulative wrath – hello
synopsis I invite thee to know
why self esteem within me so low
lackluster love life accentuated
cuz yours truly
never kissed under mistletoe
Dreadful homelife upon
exiting early adolescence
no bed of roses parental
wrath did commence
me (especially after
graduating bottom 1%)
scorned as among lowlife
versus being among
productive vested gents
I withstood blistering, mortifying
withering howling offense
yours truly uttered nary a peep.
I dreaded every malevolent utterance
when father requested he speak
not about some choice topic dejure
brought a twinkle to my eye,
but that all to familiar monologue
finding me standing like stone wall
hearing, tuning out with equally
predictable trademark demurely meek
pose with hands crossed against
chest of the then easily intimidated guy
despite feeling effects of utter ennui
and fatigue attempted to stand tall
against the tsunami verbal typhoon
itching to drown out said battle creek
when asked capisce? comprende? farshtayst?
looked blankly at floor well nigh
or pretended to stare at something extreme
fascinating on the kitchen wall
for he may as well asked if I understand
in an unfamiliar language such as Greek
most likely getting successful results
yammering away at common house fly
possibly seething inside (p’raps
equally swatted) ready to lash out into a brawl
held back by fear plus
in comparison to me pop –
just a itty bitty pipsqueak,
who felt onrushing and overpowering
desire to collapse and cry
compounded by growing urge
to urinate from that natural urethral call
spoke nada word, nor gave hint
of hearing from loathsome blather that did reek
like decomposition of fetid of dead
living entity that began to putrefy
which offal to mine ears, tugged impetus
under warm blankets to crawl!
I have known and walked the right path
But now I’m in chains
I’m restrained
My soul is in captivity
My days consist of drug-induced activity
To know and not do is insanity
I watch my life pass before me
It's vanity.
I know the Truth
It’s right in front of me
But to grasp Its’ power
I find none of my own
I am not proud that I blow clouds
I’m living in a daze
I sit in smoke filled rooms
It’s like being lost in a maze
Like coins in my pocket
I spend my life on menial things
I live like loose change
Sadness is what it brings
What will I have to show for the life I’ve spent
My time is lent
I do not own it
My world is small
Each day is predictable
My addictions runs deep
I think it’s despicable
But I stopped resisting
Now I’m merely existing
And I watch my life fade away
The struggle is real
Many layers i need to peel
Oh that I would be free
I want to spread my wings
Fly like an eagle
So strong and so regal
I want to reach heights beyond my limits
Soar on the wings of His power
Hour by hour
Ascending higher
Becoming stronger
Redeeming the time
Live a little longer
And trust in the One who knows me
I want to make wise choices
Drown out those voices
That have controlled my thinking for too long
I want to belong
Sing a new song
Right all my wrongs
While I yet have my breath
I want to go the distance
Finish the race set before me
Overcome the odds that are clearly against me
And reach my destiny
Until Heaven becomes my home
I want these chains broken
And my enemies choking
From words of Truth I proclaim
Achieve victory in His name
Live for His glory
Be powerful proclaiming His story
Witness other prisoners become free
That they too may spend the remainder of their loose change
Serving others
Being sisters and brothers
Until the sand in the hourglass runs dry
And true life for us all begins
I want out of this pit
Stretch my arms
Reach for the sun
With hundreds of children beside me
All the new believers born from my obedience
To learn from my experience
Its expedient
But as of now
I'm like a dripping faucet
My life is leaking
One drop at a time
Loose change
Spending nickels
Spending dimes
Less and less with each passing day
Knowing when the change runs dry
Is the day I depart
A citizen in Heaven at long last
I was gratefully listening
to a theologian musician
repeat a rabbinic tradition
of four levels of resonant soul:
individual (egosystemic),
communal (local),
social (cultural, national identity)
global (Earth,ecosystemic).
A mature musician,
like a wise theologian,
sees these four soul identities
as circular
double-binding octaves,
mutually informing up
and down,
in
and out.
As EarthMother's original staging womb
organically recreates
using the fractal language of DNA inscription,
prediction,
predication,
to recreate yet another individual soul,
as BrahmanEarth outside soul
is to AtmanEgo inside spirit
of dynamic resonance,
preferring regeneration as positive
as more power-indwelling
than degeneration as negative.
So, it was jarring
when this musical theologian
referred to human bodies
as machines,
rather than organisms.
Machines seem to be left-brain dominant
power reductions
as compared with
Left with Right-balancing organisms.
For robotic machines,
punishing or rewarding communities,
leviathan bureaucratic
autocratic societies,
lifeless planetary spheres,
power is either on or off,
energy is positive or negative.
For living organisms,
individual through holonically Earth-wombed,
power is both regenerative
and degenerative,
positive and negative;
Not digitally governed by our either/or switch
but analogically healed, developed
and wounded, decomposing
with both/and holistic interdependent consciousness.
Human nature
sounds like a robotic analogy
and hopelessly predictable,
dully rational
as a LeftBrain dominant machine.
Humane nature/spirits
feel organically metaphoric
polyphonic
polypathically rounded
theo/eco-logical music composed
and decomposed,
marvelously trans-rational
as left with right hemispheric balance,
rhythm, communal
pitch, cultural
resonance, EarthWomb global
Soul,
ZeroZone regenerative
more powerful than degenerative,
Yet organic cycles
and recycles,
purpose
and repurposes of life
decomposing death
require both
to recreate
recompose
recologize
recognize
theologize
musical soul
as powerful
resonant
both-thought/and-felt structure.
But, when we started singing together
I knew
for sure
he, as we,
feels more and better
as metaphoric musicians
than analogical machines.
Everyone back to grey
unity of our colors shows the others
we notice them today
Everyone choose white or black
you can always play shadow and follow
each stage for three days.
Everyone it's time for red and blue
looking for the leaders of whose following who.
You can always drop out and start again
on another unsuspecting day
Leaders now green and yellow
hard to obsess this much and spotlight
yourself in the hidden or obvious.
Everyone back in black
unity of our colors confuses leaders again
we learn from them and maybe they
follow or try to lead again
Everyone its Orange or Purple
stole the spotlight of yesterday
and jumped ahead to foreshadow their parade
Everyone it's time for all those names and numbers
you can always single yourself out
and start from the last back to the first
on the most predictable days.
Follow one another without obviousness of
those who never even knew
Easy to fail the others who may one day
fail you too
and show yourself for the unsuspecting fool.
Everyone out of place
something, anything white
this level of control is addictive and honestly self right.
Did anyone predict the unpredictable
choosing black from red
why won't i abuse you when you ignore
the patterns i try to lend
Everyone in yellow or blue
such a cultic masterpiece of
truth
deception
mischieviosness
and deception
Everyone in green or black
I would give anything, anything
to have you wear that
choose new leaders to make the stage
and then tomorrow do what you can
to take it away
Hard to obsess this much
and try not to point out
the three holidays
that lie between
the simple four day work week
Easy to know within yourself
that you may have accomplished,
the impossible
to obsess for 18 days and enjoyed the illusion that everyone else was too.
Difficult to prove phenomenal masterpiece
of everyday life
My apprentices,
what will you decide when you reach the 19th day?
My adversary's
does it make you glad that you can always try again?
My masterminds,
what will you decide to be the purpose of this
when the choice is yours to decide?
Will you see me following you when it's time?
Ever been treated like you’re a slice of cake?
By the kind of sleazy men that slither like a snake?
They’re not the type to give
They’re the kind that always take.
Know your worth, be strong, pay attention, stay awake.
This is what I say to men who think they are so slick.
“I’m a lady, not a hoe, a slice, a treat, a chick.
Go away, get lost, quit acting like a trick.
I'm not the one to buy your lines that you spread on so thick.
I’m not some fresh baked cake that you can get a slice.
I’m not some frosting that you can sample anytime you like.
Even though you talk sweet, I know you’re nothing nice.
Play with fire and get burned, Cheat and pay the price.
You say I’m pretty and I’m sweet
That I look good enough to eat
You haven't tried to hide your lust
You haven't tried to be discreet.
Oh?!? a little bit this
And a little bit of that?
A generic compliment here...
Predictable flattery there?
A married man with an appetite
A piece of me, a taste, a bite
You talk about warm biscuits
Parted and buttered
As you stare at me.
You say I'm a hot dish
But don't you mean a side item?
Fast food?
In and out burger?
Did I offer myself...
Coffee, tea, me?
You want a dining experience
But this ain't Burger King!
You can't have it your way
I'm not a drive through
I'm not an order you grab to go
You can't stuff me in your mouth
Then burp out loud
Little pieces of me flying out
as you go about your day.
Why eat out?
That’s not what marriage is all about
Your spouse should be the only meal
A balanced dinner, that’s the deal
In the privacy of your home
But still you’re on the prowl and roam.
You say you only want a slice
And take no thought about my life.
You eat, wipe your mouth
Then say you've done no wrong.
But you're selfish and self-centered
That’s why I must be strong.
I’m not your food, set on a tray
Prepared for you to go filet
I’m not a snack that you can taste
Half consumed then left to waste.
Sugar-coated, insincere
Across the room you drool and leer.
You’re hungry, and you think I’m food
Weren’t you raised to know that’s rude?
I think the messqge here is clear
Im not a woman to be feared
I only ask you for respect
Or keep on going and forget
I hope one day you understand
STILL KICKING
I've got this smile on my face,
tears rolling down my check, but I ant apologetic about it,
not bluffing though I hear buzzing sounds, being very busy I remain unhinge,
can't be knock off balance though through distractions the enemy
tried to lay sigh via smoky screens, I'll still stay here to slough it out till the end.
I know you need attention, time to be together with
but hey man am sorry meet me there if you can,
though the strides if my steps sliding,
being slice up like a broken glass now my face squeezing
but men I ant frowning.
Hearing the heaves on my chest,
felling like am losing though am still in front,
floating on forming waters
not certain whether I'll make it to the end cause is getting darker by the day
nothing worse than this black cloud above my head.
like a bubble gum pooping I felt so expose, fallen many times
but I've got to stand up and try a new approach cause is not over,
so I roll up my sleeves, whoa, blow off the dust,
feeling the fire on my heels but an not about to kneel
cause the big concern blazing on my chest,
I'll keep moving, following the footprint of the one with the blue print,
not slacken my grips nay, can't fail now cause I've got you'll on my mind
and I know you're watching. Certainly I'll have change in the midst of this ugly split, regardless of how it goes down life goes on,
feeling like am starting all over yeah no doubt
but am counting on the fact that God is faithful,
though am clever, I'll never be under the fever to think I'll succeed someday;
my time is now.
Reminiscing on the journey so far I confess,
am the designer of my own path,
making spotless decision is my predictable routine,
Jehovah has turned my life over
and now am unashamed cause his blood has wash away all my sins.
Am super turned up,
God did not consider my errors I guise that's why some folks are jealous,
I'll keep on though my feet's heavy my mind stayed on winning
everything regardless am still kicking you know it's time for kinging,
if you're following am still leading,
hearing yelling's behind but I stand tall I ant bragging,
you all know it am all out for the best, can't be frazzle
still kicking with my dudes, and guise what they're all tripping.
We can’t go out so what to do?
How do we spend our time?
Imagination, racing thoughts
My brain on overtime.
There’s gardening, painting, DIY
Non urgent jobs to do,
They’re boring and predictable,
I need stimulus, tried and true.
That lazy dog could do a bit,
He snores his life away
Maybe I could combine some things
And make him earn his pay.
The veg patch is so overgrown,
With weeds and grass and such,
It needs a plough to turn it all,
To dig is far too much.
I contemplate the problem,
Ideas are coming fast,
My engineering side comes forth
To help me in this task.
A rotary lawnmower
With motor burnt right out,
I’ll take off all the spinning bits
And modify throughout.
A blade made from a shovel,
That I found lying around,
I built a wooden structure
And fixed it facing down.
A harness formed by ropes,
Tied to doggies walking brace
Then fixed back to the plough
Would keep the mutt in place.
I could steer it by the handles
While the dog was harnessed in
Then turn the garden over,
Job done, that’s it, we’re in.
I put the dog’s brace on him
And he thought his luck was in.
It must be walkies he seemed to say
As he looked at me and grinned.
I led him to my work of art,
And he sniffed at it a bit,
Then he looked at me and shook his head,
Raised a leg and peed on it.
I tied the ropes to his dog brace
And I told him what to do,
But he sat down in front of it,
His labour he withdrew.
I cut a long and whippy stick,
And urged him to get on,
And when I smacked him on the back,
I thought my end had come.
He shot off like racing hound,
Yelping all the way,
The plough was going sideways,
Gouging on its way.
He headed for the rose bushes,
The wife’s most treasured bit,
Then smashed them down to matchsticks
In a horrendous, swathing hit.
I was yelling, he was yelping,
The noise was quite insane,
As he cut a huge wide furrow
In our lush lawn’s green terrain.
The plough got stuck fast suddenly,
The dog wrenched off his feet
And he landed, winded on the ground
Like a hundred yards athlete.
I dismantled the plough
And scattered the bits,
No more projects from my thinking cap,
As I surveyed the garden wreckage
Of my lockdown’s worst mishap.
my chair was in the path of totality
a thin ribbon about seventy miles wide
moving West to East
it does this because of at the equator
Moon's shadow moves eastward
at a greater velocity than Earth's
rotational velocity causing travel
from East to West across the surface
the moon fully covers the sun
surrounding me on the beach
were scientists and New Agers
gravity bending light was discovered
in 1919 proving Einstein was on target
Isaac Newton discovered gravity
which philosophers and scientists
had been ruminating on for centuries
science was here to witness and confirm
my confirmation as the moon's shadow
raced ashore and the birds at sea
turned suddenly inland, that was amazing
the New Agers were hoping to witness
a promise, the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius
where Harmony, Understanding, No Lies
Mystic Cristal Relations, Golden Days of Living
the Minds Total Liberation
and as the light and sun disappeared
one on mushrooms declared
she had seen the face of God
confirming black and a woman
my wry comment brought glaring looks
does she look annoyed, perchance piqued
they would not miss my observations
a few days passed before all left
i had my beach and pueblo back
the mercado had toilet paper
i had breakfast in peace at last
Conchita's taco stand normal
men discussing fishing, politics
children at play purchasing churros
here it is 32 Years later
and the Age of Aquarius
is pretty much the same old crap
humans are cute and predictable
to be avoided, why i so relate
to Ferdinand the Bull, loved that cartoon
i am watching a movie
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are walking a lane
once they were upon opposite shores
they have finally come to terms on marriage
this is a mystery to me
why did God so love us
he blessed us with the ability to love
why it is the greatest of them all
why it does not require mushrooms
to see God, if one cares to look
only the Blind in the Heart cannot see
He is the metronome dancing in the trees
only those Deaf in Spirit
cannot hear Him speak in the wind
wandering thru the meadow
and in all of the senses
love is the sweetest taste of all
OKC 8/12
get in the mood at Youtube:
The 5th Dimension Age of Aquarius 1969