Long Recalibrate Poems
Long Recalibrate Poems. Below are the most popular long Recalibrate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Recalibrate poems by poem length and keyword.
Today might be a stressful day
tomorrow could be swell
next week might be a challenge
next month you’ll conquer hell
Next year could be different
to where you are today
the point of this being
don’t throw your life away
Why do you question things
why worry every day
everyone has a story
don’t let it cause delay
emerge from your cocoon
let your wings dry
see life in a new light
spread your wings and fly
When one cycle ends
another one begins
when one day you lose
another there could be wins
if todays a struggle
tomorrow could be great
So just take a breath
time to recalibrate
Take a walk in nature
feel the healing vibes
frequencies will gravitate
to your soulful tribes
Be grateful for the life
the magic that is there
soak up all the wisdom
and know the spirit’s care
Hop a train
steam far away
from the zig jagged insane.
Dream far, far away from the media blitz
the mass hysteria
that devilish jab
the mask hysteria
of pure delirium.
billions to be raked in
from
the jab
the kits
the masks
the disinfectants
one-way hospital stays.
Gates
wants to jab us to death
force us to eat his shriveled meat
In so many words, he wants to cull the herd.
Gates
is blotting out the sun
thinning our bones
slowly turning us to dust.
Hells Gates
has stage 4 God complex
but God never sported an STD.
Hop a train to a faraway place.
Stepping away from the insane.
Rubbing elbows with the homeless and hobo.
AT least they're real.
Gather and recalibrate a lost spirit.
Meditate, go deep underground.
Into the twin mirror of self and selfless.
Slide away from their plastic charms.
Sliding away from all of them.
Becoming like an earthworm.
We exist for different purposes, perhaps 1 perhaps six
Forage food, mark trails and warnings of the enemy we echo
Sometimes, the unknown and uninvited guests, we query
Is our unison voice singular to a higher up?
Are our motions and interpretations of our universe just?
Maybe we will never know or we will find out in five
I imagine they are watching counting our progress, from the obsidian vastness, perhaps in series of five.
We assume their intelligence is higher, maybe of aeons six
Do they see us and think we are primitive just?
Or are they amazed by how far we seem to echo?
Our adaptations lead us on paths marked by contours going up
To search for meaning and ensure our surroundings we query
That one stridulation triggered a series we have to query.
Where it came from, why the palpitations of five?
Did wires that weren't supposed to touch there up?
It must have communicated something their six may not be our six.
We could try to mimic and that signal we echo
To the beyond and hope they understand us just
Up down we march to match our actions just
A rich medley, multi-terpene blend signals we are going to query
We march towards the stridulation, our sensilla seem to echo
A chain of unknowns multiplying in exponentials of six
The map we attempt to follow only goes up to five
We hope to convene the right message up
I'm sure the crows caught it, we felt the disturbance up
But that was not one of us just
Different temporal structures, I guess we close the voyage in six
Just for the moment as we recalibrate and make a new query
Signal predictability, yardstick useful for seconds five
To aid us try to understand the beyond that we echo
Our conquest to understand is only now an echo
The intensity we ought to have no longer stepped up
Hoping to cross paths again and know in five
What’s being said and signalled just
Atop a hill of questions we send out our last query
And hope the higher being catch it as we count to six
We map the numbers from six to five,
Hunting the crow's echo and cosmic query,
While up on the mound, we are just ants.
When we
together
worry we
(not they)
don't have enough time
to recreate a healthier happier wealthier climate
this is Left/Right balancing time
to notice and recalibrate
transubstantiate
our DNA/RNA solidarity
transformation consciousness
to adjust our LeftBrain dominance
from anthropocentric shortage
toward 1/(0)-cobinary empty long
to fully belong
abundantly empty
timelessly polyamorous
not too much egoLeft resonant thrival
for too little ecoRight resilient survival
not too soon YangAlpha
or too late YinOmega,
for Win/Win reweaving
AnthroEarth's co-pleasuring flight
impassioning polypathic spacious might
feel our time lies too still,
too boring,
lacking good humored engagements
and vitality
and passion
too much stagnant dull
secularized divestment
not empowering sacred time
fulfilling organic space
Actively hoping
these are our opportunities to look deeper
for permaculturing cooperative opportunities
to replace competitive WinLose condemning and mistrusting
Earth's dialectically climatic enculturations
Avoiding systemic trauma's self-alienating
and original sin's ego-monoculturing
supremacist-yet-paranoid
dissonantly divesting outcomes
veiling WinWin regeneratively healthy
tranformatively wealthy
transubstantiated bilateral Anthro economic
Earth ecological
empowering and enlightened politics
enticing deeply rich socio-therapeutic opportunities
for less vicarious fear of risk to self-esteem
more freedom to actively perform self and other
bilateral entertainments,
re-engaging cobinary cooperative gift-it-forward miracles
reweaving EarthBound pains and longings,
promoting future health
abundant gains and belongings
by learning from past pathologically dissonant angers,
fears dulling into boring passive monotheistic
patriarchal paranoias,
chronically dissonant distances from
regeneratively balancing resonance
of panentheistic
Gaia Hypothesis
matriarchal pronoia
promulgating peak experiences
of long-suffering belonging bliss.
I took the off ramp too soon
I should have driven on to the next exit
but I left too soon.
Now in a strange landscape
I slow down looking for road signs
waymarks, names, and places known to me.
Stopped curb-side, fiddled with the GPS;
her voice was cool, distracted:
“Please recalibrate, enter your position,
the place you need to be does not compute.”
Sighing I look about me.
The buildings are deserted, windows boarded up.
streets empty.
I don’t belong to any of this,
I am affluent and live on a tree lined avenue
but that me, that life,
is one exit more beyond on the highway
and this car has no reverse drive. What!
It was nothing but a dream,
just a dream,
or was that other lost life,
that other misplaced place
an exit forever and always
too far for me?
allow God to reprogram the CPU
of your life
remove the spam, the cookies
the internal strife
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
God adjusted my input so my spiritual data will flow
God removed that sinful behavior
which made my unit run slow
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
with clarity, sincerity and purity
on my flash drive
Inputting data with the Holy Spirit,
I flourish and thrive
computing and sharing with the Holy Trinity
interfacing with God, Jesus and the Spirit Holy
no longer relying on external downloads
to determine my destiny
letting Heaven-sent applications
recalibrate my victories
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
now logged into the storehouse
of my Heavenly Host
my RAM fully supplied
giving me the most
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
my input now adjusted
my data easily flows
sinful malware removed
my unit no longer running slow
my modem operating
at full capacity
my faith in God running
at full velocity
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
love, peace and joy
In me unbound
God's grace and mercy
stored in my cloud
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
5/20/22
Does it ever satiate?
Let me elaborate
For the evening pouring up an 8
Starting to feel okay, now I'm straight
Until reality sets in and I'm awake
Ego and spirit starting to deflate
I'm not always in that great of a place
Meaning in life and my mind state
Changes to be made for my own sake
Since life's not always sweet like a slice of cake
It's a mystery or taking shape
People always taking off of other's plates
What a disgrace
Dangerous people put out bait
All over the place
Makes me irate
For being fake and a snake
Toss your body into a lake
Had it coming, but I'll still show up to the wake
Pay my condolences then exit through a gate
Y'all some lightweights
They say we relate to primates
Yet struggle to find a trace
Birds continuing to migrate
People concerned or no regard over carbohydrates
It was all there to take
Got to try if you want to have any stake
Or say in the matter, instead of always being late
Before you know it the chance will evaporate
Sometimes got to recalibrate
Not all can acclimate
Wounds healing well or beginning to granulate
Towards what they seek is where they'll gravitate
Often they over saturate
The cycle endlessly circulates
And permeates
Close to a stalemate
Started to contemplate
And concentrate
In order to dominate
As the masses congregate
Many just complicate
With a solemn face
A taste of your own medicine, how does it taste?
They can't relate or appreciate
Then have the nerve to state
Words that are offensive with a tone of hate
Sometimes I just need to escape
I'm never sober, give me a break
Had a hand in saving lives yet no cape
I need to elevate
Not celebrate
A peaceful end or a scene involved with yellow tape
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A single ant, black as charred bark,
parts the silver skin of the puddle~
its legs dimple the water,
each step a tremble of tiny ripples.
The leaf, wide as two ants side by side,
rides its back like a ship’s wrecked sail,
tipping with the weight
of a world too large to name.
Legs piston through water,
dark and wide, a sea to him,
with this leaf, his bride.
Each step is a tremor in the tiny world.
A current whispers, but the ant
does not listen.
Shadows of giants loom above~
a boot, a wheel, the indifferent sky.
The ant pauses, antennae tasting fear,
then presses on. The far shore
is a myth worth drowning for.
Halfway, it pauses again~
not to rest, but to recalibrate,
rearranging the world
one stubborn millimeter at a time.
The wind’s rough tongue licks at the load,
yet still he drags his emerald barge
to the far shore,
to dry earth.
The far shore is everything.
It happened..To happen, its perhaps how best to explain.? Dietrich wrote about some ' tators.' In the footles vein, i hope its
Plain.? I then made a comment.' On another slang name known.' Causing her to recalibrate..Too taters..
Ler it be shown.' So
Now it seems there is a standerd..On how to mis-pronounce.? Will we influence the Mirriam-Webster.? Might they weigh the terms, just like the pound or ounce ? So it
Seems we've achieved the improbable.' Where, a slang word is reccognized.' Will we end up in Paris to receive a sorbonne
Prize.? The possibility's seem endless.'
When you try this out for size.' Even
though post-eriors must
take up the sacks
if
We stay low, and this stock sells.' Though
Thats not
My point, its just interesting, to be part of lifes flow )
If I could turn back hands of time,
I'd recalibrate the compass of my life's rhyme,
I'd correct the errant paths, and mend the broken threads,
And weave a tapestry of wisdom, from the unravelled beds.
I'd fix the fractures, and shore up the walls,
I'd rebuild a foundation, on the bedrock of my falls.
I'd transmute the lead of regret, into the gold of wisdom's fire,
And emerge, a phoenix, from the ashes of my desire.
I'd straighten the crooked ways, and smooth the rugged terrain,
I'd walk the narrow path, with a heart that's humble, and a spirit that's plain.
I'd labour with diligence, and toil with fervent zeal,
And reap the harvest, of a life that's lived, and made real.
I'd be the architect, of a new creation,
A masterpiece of redemption, a work of art in gestation.
I'd fulfill the dreams, that I once let slip away,
And seize the opportunities, that I once allowed to stray.
I'd be better than I am, I'd rise above the pain,
I'd transcend the limitations, and break the chains.
I'd be the hero, of my own story, I'd be the light,
That guides me through the darkness, and leads me to the morning's delight.
For in the hindsight, I see the folly of my youth,
The follies, the failures, the times I took the wrong path's truth.
But still, I hold on to hope, that tomorrow's dawn will bring,
A chance to start anew, to rewrite, to realign.