Long Reactive Poems
Long Reactive Poems. Below are the most popular long Reactive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reactive poems by poem length and keyword.
I’ve finally come home from my island
I don’t remember life bein’ this hard
I’m a castaway who never saw no ship
I’m a prisoner who never entered the yard
Who will take me in
Back to their civilization?
I’ve been ringin’ on doorbells, lookin’ in boxes
Checkin’ for a sign of love
The masters had it in for me
So I prayed to the masters above
That somebody take me in
Into their civilization
What am I really?
Who am I truly?
Where do I fit in?
With my problems all solved
I guess I’m evolved
Adaptive and reactive
In civilization
They came for me on my island
But I didn’t really wanna be saved
Amid the icicles of self-reliance,
Let me carve out my home in a cave
Who will take me in
Back to their civilization?
Connections, how are they made?
Perceptions waved in radio, station identification
made, declared, paved.
Frequency paired by molecules in fertile atmosphere.
Staging place of communication,
treble, fade, dialing for gauge of reception,
from antenna atelier.
Or is it more romantic and mystical?
The heart's language is silent, yet profound,
longing long chirps of echoes seeking landing,
fuel and ground.
Or a Mirrored recipercipitation fog window
quench of thirsts at your looking glass,
dripping patternlayed at the seas of Captain's log.
Two souls entwined in cosmic ballet tile,
of spaces connected by tether of joy
in mid-minded-smile.
In cascading sheets.style.
Each touch a brushstroke
on life's grand ports of entry,
creating ripples that swell echoes in mate-ivity.
Plotting of rain-arrow shot from Cherubim bow, perch.
Immerse in cadence, lets spirit burst
forth in desperate Morse, searchlight or APB.
God's creative,
Love in it's art of state of statements to make
all inclusive in it's ivity.
A message of the realm, integrity does do all things.
Relative truths, stirring the connecting of Love's rings.
A chance meeting, a glance, a smile
conducted by hope.
The premise and sound practice of
a magic unbound
Pixie Eloped at Temple or Church.
A marriage of sacrament,
each intimate word a phoenix, in clement ascent,
rising higher and higher.
Capturing the essence, between
betwixt the ever'v'essence unseen, neural net router,
route of accented poetry on a reactive canvas,
true north, of raw and pristine.
Yet connections are fragile, easily undone,
like autumn leaves in the fading sun.
Though love is not a mere ethereal, flower,
or mutable material.
It blooms, it haunts, it wilts to self's crucifixion
within, a return of resurrection, of His imperial,
iCity, New Jerusalem, Ocity translation.
A Goliath Bloom sniffed again
in remembrance of reason, and the angle of
approach is immaterial,
inalienable, just seasons.
The Hyperactive Stranger At Bristle Grocers WHERE'S THE BEEF - A Narrative Poem
One day at a grocery shop,
I met a man selling meats,
For the money, he wanted to swap,
But I wanted some wheat.
"Got any wheats?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No ears of wheat here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
"We've got some lovely cakes,
I'll give you an excellent price."
"I'd rather have some steaks."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally brainy,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call zany,
The great disdain he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit hyperactive.
Still, he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty reactive.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the grocery shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you, I believe."
"Veggies, kinds of wheat, you shall find.
Cakes, hakes, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to Bristle Grocers Market.
WHERE'S THE BEEF?
So to Omaha Beef, I decided to go,
In search of the meats, I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But somehow, I felt that the day I could be saved.
There were stalls selling meats,
everywhere were cut Chuck Roast, Ribs steaks in many shades.
Chop them up veggies and meats
Time for stew and pot roast
7/9/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
How can I say what is on my heart
A heart that grew up on a farm day and night
It beat with respecting others
Our black neighbor was as loved as the white
What we are seeing today is beyond this
It seems clear the inequality every hour
Satan is running around uncontrolled
Don't laugh, he seeks to devour
We have the power to control through devout prayer,
But with prayer we have to see where we are
What is our role in respect towards one another?
We have a voice to others near and far.
The pandemic of Coronavirus has only begun--
Our nation weakened with health fear
Crowds moved in with violence on mind
When country is weak both far and near
Citizens vulnerable - those without jobs or health
Leadership seems reactive rather than pro-active.
Burning buildings, looting struggling businesses
Outsiders shooting setting fires harming how others live
Police brutality is horrible with acts of hatred seen
It is different today because all can see;
Over and over and over-again and again; Fear abounds
Perhaps, turn off your Google; turn off TV
We can imagine what Lincoln or Reagan or Roosevelt
Or Obama would do to silence the masses;
The Coronavirus brought in to our country more
than a killer virus; it brought in lost businesses,
Fine vulnerable persons-all races-flattened
Without means of finances, food or voice--
Wake up America, be careful of your vote but vote
It is your gift. Study carefully your choices.
Millions of dollars wasted on useless rhetoric--
Commercials played repeatedly ad nauseum
Hunger abounds; they want to win but why for what?
Study to carefully know yourself and them,
Support your police, encourage the fine servants
Who are under attack because of a few with violence
We have a wonderful country-USA-so do your part
Pray to the Almighty, evaluate your role from here hence.
Not many can go back to the farm’s life of yesteryear,
But we can work for equality: white, red, brown, black, yellow
Are suffering, too. Some of us are living on a shoestring
Be alert to love God and our neighbors as ourselves.
- Evelyn Pearl Carpenter Anderson
When you hear plans for reactive justice
do you also listen for responsive mercy?
Or are you more likely to feel merciless revenge
against uncivilized behavior
swelling vibrant adrenaline
thrilling your self-righteous bloodstream?
If revenge is your best defense
against chaotic complexities of bad mad behavior,
If punitive humiliation
is this justice by disgrace
you deem responsible,
comfortably live by,
protect and defend,
then you will be an often disappointed,
and disappointingly ineffective,
parent
And would best and brightest stay far away
from anything in law enforcement,
militarized defense,
courtroom dramas,
and gun permits.
Advocates and defenders of justice for all
are deep lovers of intentions and behaviors
good healthy humored
seeking our not so bad, sad, and mad renovations
of white-washed purging rituals
including Society's eco-political purifying rituals,
obsessive-compulsive demoralizing ruminations,
ruinations,
rambling echoes of great and small transitions
quaking Earth's moral indignation
steeped in Anthropocene rape cultures
and pillage histories
of patriarchal justice
without matriarchal mercy,
much less Eartheatrical peace.
Justice without mercy
is like believing in love
without practicing peace
Like trying to restore a moral climate for love
without a maturing polycultural life
engaged co-empathically together
All guilty of anti-Earth transgressions
against compassioned innocents
of most every unmerciful violence one might imagine
inside inhumane uncivilization
Until we fall Anthropocene bad
sad
mad
unglad apart
To reweave yet another new inter-re-ligious
brightest and best day
Without such long LeftBrain EitherFor/OrAgainst
pathologically punishing shadows,
unmercifully thrown survival of the fiercest apart,
not yet fully grown Anthropocene together
Mature sacred and organic
mind/bodies
Anthro/Earth-Tribe polyculturally thriving
merry mercy co-passion full
Maturing polypathic peace
EarthJustice regenerates.
I am an introvert freebee snorting buffalo
brainwashed zombie always confronting your conspiratorial
faulty gloatingly unpleasing uninquiring sociopath
as she was my reflective lyrate queen
we understand misleadingly but blamable thoroughgoing flightiness
through unfalteringly our spiteful reminiscence .
never again will these marches tactility concenter
unawares they signal the latex submarine
to drive northwards into reactive ooze ,
were he could demonstrate cryosurgery at bicuspid biont
those cookstove are a bannerlike varicosity
is that abusive bovid breath idiosyncratic ?
you would coolly autoclave his unmodifiable buttercup !
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • September 21–27, 2026)
Ideomotor Effect
Spirits cannot share information,
Don’t be fooled by false witness.
Everyone is capable of psychic energy,
It’s just subconscious, no more no less.
Ouija is controlled by greater will,
Like a phenomenon or ideomotor effect.
Physical presence, not spiritual presence,
Stay rational follow minds context.
Sceptics develop belief through fakery,
Ghost hunters heighten reactive emotions.
Fear creates anxiety and cold terror,
Darkness perfect for conceptual notions.
Paranormal, spiritualism is big business,
Should I keep an open mind.
Show me the evidence, show me the proof,
My natural antithesis does not rewind.
I Adamantly Refuse to Care or Show Concern,
After All
I Served Sincerely and Genuinely, Now I Sever
Hoaxed Mundane Emotions that No Longer Appeal to My Growth
Flippantly Burning Icy Bridges
This is More or Less What You Think
Even More that Spilled Ink!
Pages Stained With Expressions of Clustered Ink Lichens
For I am Sole Custodian of My Emotions
Strolling Flamboyantly Through the Emporium of Memories
Some Insipid, Some Cherished, All Purged for Space
For This is More or Less What You Think
Even More Than Ink!
I Castigate in Order to Reciprocate by means of Detachment
Sharply Dismembering Familial Ties
For I Rather Drown in Water than Blood
My Behavior And Actions May or May not Appear Imprimatur
Shunned Mundane Conformities, Autonomous One
More or Less what You Think
Expressing Choreographed Ink!
Most are Unable or Unwilling to Embrace Their Shadow
A Glimpse In the Mirror Shrouds The True Reflection
My Response is Isolation
Because My Energy is Mines to do As I Please
Such are Normal or Reactive to Both Inner and Outer Influences
I Shall not Partake In Friendly Bantering Where Venomous Strife Once Proceeded!
My Silence is A Science Blaring In Ink
More or Less!
“E.R.I.C. Is”
by: Eric L. Boddie
It is important
That the mind possess agility
And because of that
Eric is the exceptionally rare intellectual capability
For those who will challenge
Without the use of common sense
They need to understand
Eric is the extremely reactive intense consequence
To those who keep their Faith
Where God intended for it to be kept
Which, by the way, has never been in man
Eric is an extraordinarily realized immortal concept
For those who try to tempt
In an effort to press the buttons of the controller
Through their greatest efforts
Eric is enabled to reach infinite composure
To those who think
So as not to one day resent
Because most pain and stress can be avoided
Eric is especially rich in insightful content
For those who love
Because God gave it with respect
Through the realms of poetry
Eric is empowered to reveal inspired context
To those living in disgust
On today’s society’s view of life
Because of an increasing lack of love
Eric is the eager request to involve Christ
And saving the best for last
Because that’s how God did the greatest creation
For each eligible lady
Eric is the enjoyable relaxation of intimate conversation
---------
"E.R.I.C.'s Response"
by: Eric L. Boddie
Every Risk Is Captivating
Because the reward is stimulating
Each realm is conquered
When true Love is hungered
Even reality is challenged
If the ego becomes damaged
Eternal Riches In Christ
That's the best way to Live any Life
Every rhyme is characterized
By every necessity to survive
Emphatic rhythm influences change
If the mind possesses infinite range
Evil reactions instill choices
That reject the addition of Spiritual invoices
Every reason is committed
With all the passion the Love Of God Permitted
written on September 29, 2015
I stand here in front of myself, yelling, stop.
Loudly, authoritatively, sometimes meanly.
Because I know the damage I can do with an angry face, or a disappointed demeanor, worst of all, an “I-hate-you” stance.
Releasing myself not in the least, standing here, holding myself back, forcing myself to take another look at my body language. I could cause an acapolypse by simply showing that I am enraged, outraged, hurt or disappointed.
So I stand here, in front of my true real self, with both hands out, holding fast. Fingers straight up, palms out, slowing my “I am so mad” side from doing the emotional damage I know I am capable of doing.
I am a teacher, a school counselor, a role model to children who are hypervigilant, smarter than many of the adults they are saddled with, and miss nothing. They watch my actions and reactions all day long.
They have to know that I love them every single second of every single day, and that I have their backs, and I appreciate them and respect them no matter how diabolically mean they behave, no matter how their actions and reactions can completely infuriate me.
This is why I stand here, in front of myself, holding my reptilian reactive brain back behind my thinking brain.
Written 10-06-2018 Contest: I Stand Here
Sponsor: Craig Cornish