Long Priori Poems
Long Priori Poems. Below are the most popular long Priori by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Priori poems by poem length and keyword.
Mother Yin nurtures a domestic economy
which retains indigenous becoming within nature-spirit
nondual places
Yin,
a concaving womb
for as long as Earth's collective memory
of light and dualdark
may recall.
Patriarch Yang's convexly vertical strengths of hunting,
colonizing,
commodifying
segregating quantitatively deduced values,
are not a priori possible
without primacy
of nondual co-arising
bilaterally horizontal horizons
of yin's dawn with dusk
dualdark matriarchal sacred MoonTimes.
0-Soul
WinWin
in each here and now moment
of living and dying
with focusing bicameral balance
on matriarchy's polyculturing outcomes
easing patriarchy's recent past
of monocultural ego-over-investments,
turning now toward cooperative re-investments in Mother Earth
from which human nature
RNA-derived
to DNA thrive.
In loving memory the saga goes,
or so they say when feint reminder culls a piercing interlude.
Remnant of an unfinished sentence,
broken shadow haunt awash with grief,
snapshot at the edge of a well.
Parachute of blinding insight on queue or on song,
paper mache angel deep within.
Verses, scrolls, smudges from that pink enamel claw,
whose back fold clip appearance left one reeling,
like some
tree house dweller rattled by a swooping hawk.
Gimlet sipping voyageur
adrift on ice pack yacht,
in need of solace,
yet wishing it to the bottom of his rusty bucket list.
Fragile human being torn apart,
funeral bound,
that once upon a time surreal biker skirting mountains.
A priori stunt man metaphysically divine on rocky ledge,
dare devil prayer when it suits.
Feat performance activist a sleight of hand jester,
yet despite this vapid mask of dumb amnesia,
he wanders blindfold down
an alpine peak while chasing after dim and distant keepsake
Date posted :31st January 2022
Another walking among seasons and holy beads
As our thoughts moves clouds in a grey sky,
And paint the leaves above our heads;
With a priori color of serenity, your eyes try
To open the white gates of transparent joyous morning;
The air got the scent of hot apple pies, the smile -a meaning
Of what the fingers are touching and what they are dreaming;
Are those our guardian-angels who silently walk by?
The rain of the morning tea falling from heights;
A new painted bench seemed to be almost dry;
White statues sit on the grass near the brave knights;
Two angels with glass wings have just learnt to fly.
But, leaves` procession under the kiss of the wind;
Buds of faith and hope live in philosophical mind.
A minor typo found this fanatic spell binding hound to resend a poem posse sub bully dashed off in a huff (past the hour) if nothing else than fur his spurt full of peace, bot tee, and mind.
Thus this Norwegian bachelor wannabe (most closely aligned with said status closely attained unmarried state by pledging my Unitarian troth) tilled, sown, and furrowed spirit nsync with the missus sleeping in close proximity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
dog tired this day - march 29th, 2018
no matter this dawg gone pup
took numerous one after another cat nap
his utterly fatigued
body electric still ragged
as if he went without sleep for a lifetime,
ensnared within a time warp,
espied that aggravating "aw SNAP"
(error code instead of a webpage
indicating Chrome happens to be
experiencing problems loading)
or, simultaneously
caught in a narcoleptic parent trap
thus, while a burst of energy
temporarily doth prevail
(a priori which extreme fatigue
of body, mind and spirit -
more troublesome, and worse than -
getting crucified
with a rusty nine inch nail
alleviated with deep sleep finds
much more tiredness
than usual quotidian sleepiness
bruiting this male)
being imprisoned (for high
gram matt tick crimes
and misdemeanors) such as: comma, splices,
dangling a modifier, splitting an infinitive,
unnecessary parenthesis (), et cetera
which landed me punctually,
proverbially, and squarely
in the slaammed shut jail
fed thin gruel with grubs that didst flail
nauseating pluperfect revulsion
each time hide exhale
which, many hours long rests did restore
for a bit of time only for totally tubular
exhaustion to come roar
ring back leaving me tour
charred as if...i fought in every major war.
"Reification" has it that biologically-intrinsic "Morality" understood as a-priori to Perception makes "Religion" a "Collective" or "Shared" Psychological experience.
CHAT GPT says:
Put it this way: ~ God = the unpatterned, unnameable origin of all value = Dynamic Quality = the ineffable source that both creates and escapes form. ~ Science then wouldn't "believe in God" the way theology does—but it could include God, as the unknowable wellspring that gives rise to all knowables. That’s not dogma—it’s metaphysics
~
Between two mirrors - Between two imaginations' what Can't be reflected, but the only things we know to be real is thoes mirrors and observers.
'God creates man' out of river-clay-mud and the east-wind & 'Man creates God' out of stomach-pangs and the stars.
It's no surprise then, that we build huts-of-clay like our Father and wander about the Earth like our Feather-Proud Mother but our God Of The Other Time and The Other Place and The Material Of The Immaterial . . .
"A Living God" as the last significant iteration but that too fails the test of: "Truth As Origin" except in "Trust": The wellspring of symbiosis ~ the progenitor of All Evolutionary Forms.
that's a God I understand and; "Have a little faith in me" takes on new meaning!
Touch, translucent, delicate and sparse,
Awareness fleeting and fragile;
Treasure of treasures, Lo and mark,
Seeker born quick and agile.
Peripheral only, inward glancing,
Laughing at clumsy gestures of life.
Around, yet beyond, in silhouette dancing
Coalescing at times into strife.
I, but a dalliance at your disposal,
Significant only in ego's arousal;
Clinging to fringes as bee's to aroma,
Dancing as mules in the heat of the day.
Unyielding the struggle to reach the return,
Hasten the kiss of the flame without burn.
Feel; yet not touch - deliver; yet stay.
Become both the twilight and dawn of the day.
Bring me my head and deliver my heart,
Cast not the ending from out which my start.
I have found burst and bewilderment channeled,
I have danced ever in mists of the morn.
I have been dazed in the blindness of passion,
And from this, I now have been torn.
Endless longing, deepest ache,
For glimpse of glory in the crack of life,
I, who have held, the briefest of story,
Lay baffled and bleeding on the grounds of my life.
A place without struggle between silence and pain,
Tween the birth of religion, and thought before stain,
Where feelings of affections cry false
And the feelings of coarseness disdain.
Where feelings priori shadowed and subtle,
Give birth to the lie egos feign.
There is no lie in the light that is life,
For the dark, who knows what is true.
The meaning of struggle and search for rebirth,
Is your Shadow becoming You.
Das papa anathema & furor he hiss toward patriarchal hierarchy
Courtesy mine eldest sister Amelie
Beth (thirteen plus months my senior),
whose maternal love equals heart as emoji,
she nsync with other kith and kin
painstakingly fleshed out family tree,
formerly severely uprooted, me
knowledge of ancestry
truncated, denuded..., bereft
any extended offshoots you see,
thus without doubt earned a priori
gene nee us award for peopling bee
silly decorative swallowtail and
wild asparagus coat of arms motif,
but particularly her artistry
paternal branch Harris and
maternal Russian limb named Kuritsky,
yet now unwittingly feel stumped
I ruminate, speculate, tabulate..., re:
garding one or more descendent did trumpet
objectionable bent with bias, decadent,
flagrant... haughty jarring averse trait
invariably patriarchal heir arch key
impossible impossible to hold figurative tongue
and rebuke stereotypical tendency
resigning, excluding, kraaling..., privileges
to any persons except Caucasian wealth thee
males, who fathered established, commandeered...
western civilization paradigm, I smart
with displeasure at gross injustice curtailed free
choice to acquire unshackled life, liberty,
and pursuit amidst avast booming population,
whose supposed inalienable rights blithely
usurped and denigrated creed, ethnicity,
and indisputably those with frizzy
hair still evident this late date two thousand
nineteen, I decry, grieve, lament,... particular lee
how women haint got no choice - chattel
to grand poobahs - to terminate pregnant sea
really irksome, when predicted on incest, rape
non viable offspring...violation this
garden variety poetaster recoils with knee
jerk loathsome, how young females jailed
if they undergo abortion
(with unwanted, unloved, unborn..., bay bee
thru no fault in their own stars),
punishment nasty, brutal and abhorrent
essentially enslaving the gentler sex lee
ving terror and horror, when peering into mirror
ogre looming ready to strangle gal lest she
obey mandate else...
“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”
Kahlil Gibran
Please do not put
too much sugar
in your cup of tea.
Try to live
every moment to the fullest.
None is there to pity. Nothing is free.
Did I know you then?
Did I learn my lesson?
An Important one? A ‘Priori’?
Another dawn will arrive soon.
A promise of a new beginning…
With the pain of hunger and loss.
In a world of the confiscated living.
Did you know me then?
Did you remember something?
Of life and longing?
Please do not rush, anyway...anymore.
DISHES OF THE DAY - POETRY
Happiness à priori
Health well done
Peace to the right point
Love at will (á la volonté)... !
Even obvious lines
make sense
Abstract Ingredients,
they give concrete juice ...
The invisible becomes as dense
as the visible ...
Unused rejects,
reused are ...
Discarded
has also its time ...
Having some substance,
It's okay, it's not soup.
of stone ...
All together, it takes
to the cauldron in a water bath!
After cooking
in this soft fire,
cool down, and become
the table....
The poem is ready
al dente, primo canto...
Are you all served ...!?
Sensibilities shaped and slapped and stolen. (aha)
I am indeed a borrowed man.
For where amongst my stirrings stand
priori grand?
Mission thwarted by a bell.
Noble tell.
Some soul such as mine
even, ever thus, declined.
Brokered deal appealed
in youthful fancy;
clung as clung today.
A skyward, inward, aching chance.
Once rejoiced.
A face more mine than my own.
All skin each day
the morning shone.
Bark un-burled.
Shadow long uncurled to rust.
Untrusted flag re-furled;
Scattered in what mattered, dust.
Awoke to see the joke.
First impression lasting,
reality unmasking,
I am Thee.
A fraud become.
Mashed potato brained
and stew of everyman.
Another pauper’s heart proffered
for a token:
Stolen, broken, borrowed,
a cobbled, curse of words.
No glory left ingrained
this shallow story
unrefined and rained
upon us all.
Long verse of silence,
then still.
Until more silence comes
from up the hill.
mon u mental moment,
overturned by seed or ant.
can to can’t.
broken dancer’s leg,
blinded painter,
broken banker.
suicide with empty gun.
far worse than hollow
lifetime borrowed,
and chattering to gatherings as though tomorrows come with new surprises
there is only one
surprise.
and here it is.