Long Reference point Poems
Long Reference point Poems. Below are the most popular long Reference point by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Reference point poems by poem length and keyword.
Karen Windle roughly on par...
with being a miniature poodle size dogsend
Apartment B44 one bedroom unit
at Highland Manor low income facility
housing older folks convenient starting point,
to launch poem and invite reader(s)
reason(s) without rhyme
why yours truly (me)
chose to express heartfelt gratitude
toward resident Karen Windle,
which named individual most likely unknown
across world wide web
(hmm... maybe methinks perchance
possibly ye did sound her out courtesy radar,
especially if thee dutiful patrol officer
generously handing out -
not necessarily) winning lottery tickets
within vicinity encompassing
University of Delaware.
We (myself and zee missus) inhabit
aforementioned single bedroom abode,
allows, enables and provides
convenient reference point
upon exiting our dime a dozen quarters
(housing near penniless occupants)
verily orient toward left of hallway,
no need to access global positioning satellite
leisurely amble short distance
just count three doors down on the left,
thee will espy name tag printed
small letters Karen Windle
her acquaintanceship we did kindle,
now greater value when measured with corn,
wheat, or other commodities
approximately equal to three bushels,
but varying in different regions.
Explanation whereby appreciation
toward Karen (spry firecracker, energetic,
diminutive, albeit frail looking gal)
materialized when series of unfortunate events
rendered me and mine spouse
without ready immediate access to automobile
near necessity within quaint enclave
identified as Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
affords absolute zero public transit,
hence necessity for chauffeur de jure arose,
whereby availability to shuttle us
found monetary compensation declined,
thus stymied intent regarding how I could
communicate sincere thankfulness
relieved when she would accept
poetic endeavor incorporating
best college try (mine) to alleviate
imposition if/when opportunity exists
to scrape meager money
and expect to sink a fortune
maintaining, insuring, fueling vehicle,
significant portion of social security (disability)
allocated to sustain reliability of car
dollar figure greater than buzzfeeding
caretaking, duties linkedin to
mental, physical, and spiritual health
concerning this aging baby boomer,
plus his counterpart approximately
previous couple dozen years.
When wind blows through poplar tree
One can sense time in all its majesty
In all its glory
But also perhaps in all its possibility
Something evolving in bubble of no existence
With evolution not needing reference point in its existence
Could life form created in this form of existence
See end of time in all its existence
They say man fears time
And pyramids are the only thing feared by time
But are they really feared by time
After all is there really such thing as time
Time could be parallel to our vision of it
Every consciousness somewhere in time will fit
If one could see infinity or continuity past or future would it be it
Would this be beginning or end of time maybe but not as this person sees it
They would see
Next infinity
Next continuity
Next possibility
Pyramid its builders did not consider a tomb
More likely to them it was a womb
For soul it was a womb
Place where the spirit would bloom
How would this spirit see time?
Question hard to answer with a simple rhyme
Would it be something sublime?
Or emptiness lost to passage of that very time
Would this spirits destiny
To write the very laws of universe how they them see
That is what Egyptian beliefs would be
And those laws did not have to be based on previous ones probably
And if one of those laws would protein to time
What they could do would indeed be sublime
But would they answer philosophical questions even in time
Like meaning of life philosophies question so basic and prime
Speaking of philosophy
Intelligence no matter how high has its own philosophy
Everyone has some form of it even if each is different philosophy
So is there anything beyond philosophy
What magic would be required to go beyond philosophy?
If question of meaning of life is base of philosophy
But magic that is mathematical nirvana beyond philosophy
Would be powerful and this is the one spirit in my pyramid would see
This is the only way to set the spirit free
That is what my opinion would be
Not just to be able to write universes laws but see
Beyond any philosophy
That is what heaven would be
That is what Great Eye might see
From the pyramid spirit would be free
And united with soul of souls would be its destiny
What's the espresso this evening, Rubicam?
My random access memory will light upon it
As I riffle the files of my brain.
Pulling out something fresh,
I burst out with words to cover the enigma.
Bones
Bones are the fare--
Stewed bones with marrow deep inside.
Cracking the bones of the chicken leg,
I find essence,
Everlasting purity so well stored and tucked away,
Like a savings account or DNA.
The vapor of mud rises fleet and narrow.
This is the conduit of the inner sanctum,
The railroad across Canada in the snow.
Red vertigo covers the wheels as they turn,
Rolling asunder like a sky.
We eat and gorge on the beauty of it--
The holy thing--
Sent all holy and shiny new.
We split the marrow with a scalpel,
All sharply tooled and honed.
The operation is a success at last--
Liberation is at hand surely.
The vice has fallen away,
And the orange center is revealed.
My word-center is on autopilot;
I am still, silent, patient.
Then the marrow grows overabundant,
Needing quick hands to capture the thief,
Lest escape be granted.
The expository hose is drawn up.
The bare leg is covered and modesty satisfied.
There is no canker in this truth,
Being pure to the core,
Pure as blood-marrow.
The stigma is gone out of it.
Holy is the anthem and the chorus
Sings a greeting to the little people
Who stand waiting in line.
They watch for some illumination
Of the dark letters written on their souls
Bandits would not deride them
in such an instance.
Horses in a fever will trample words,
But words re-form; they cannot die.
You who bear the mystery,
Who cannot die,
You have palpated my heart
And signified a vast reference point,
Pleading to me with a sad song.
My turbulence is all inside me,
A stormy affair,
Always sorting and reeling back with shock
As the ivy vine climbs the ancient wall.
If you had no device,
Would you not read more books?
The man dignified in the third person
Will ask the questions here, mind you.
Return to me again loon of the wide lake,
Loon hiding in the reeds.
Show me your face before you fly,
And sound your voice in the evening.
No voice is whispered in the void
Explosions inside the nest of stars
Ignite into the operas of the galaxies
Noiseless vacancies full of mysteries
Evolve, remain as vacuous as they are
Space, bridled by the fire balls of debris
To be explored once in the field of vision
That seem to come from nothing
Gone nova moving forward over eons
That follow in the open cosmic sea
Alternate universes yet to be observed
The ones with six dimensions or more
Vacuums pouring out pure particles
Emptying into something still to be determined
Into the unknown as wide as real as motion
To be defined, farther out in space
Farther than the mind can comprehend
Sounds that can't be embraced or heard
Out there, distances between the planets
Is enormous, before and after they are gone
So long measured in the calm before the storm
Reality is not mentioned here or there
Since there is no reference point to find
Too close for comfort as worlds collide
We resolve to change existence while in orbit
Bridged by alternate universes where planets rise
Stars go nova all the time
Elastic in an ocean of provocateurs
In the minus hours of creation
Jagged stones became much smoother
Edges compress in their rotations on
Filled in with shape and form
Earth was born in orbit
Weather forces wear down rocks
One size fits the planet well in gravity
Profound and rounded in ways too hard
To understand or simplify in cosmic terms
Conditions to strange to fathom circumstances
Or describe as fiction from long distances
More ovals on the horizon grow
Escape velocity stretched to the limits
On the elliptic mist where history lives
Rocks expand into the planets heavens
This all happens in split seconds over time
To fall all together from the sky to where we are
In every instant that can be conjectured on
Thought, as reality unfolds back on itself
Where it all began in silent matter conjured up
In the void, there is no noise
Space listens to questions postulated
Over distances filled in by vacancies
My clawed nails hover over library setups,
one is circumspect and so guarded,
where I quake eyeball entrapment mode,
with desktop oozing clever poly functions,
that limitless latitude bespoke of,
glowing brochure reference point,
as I adjust the red velvet cushion,
swivel seat design for comfort,
to buffer strained skeletal assembly,
the posture of my carcass inter alia,
composure, composition, connection,
apt for true romantic often dreamer,
I'll discover subtle prose and penmanship,
the fitting unfeigned worship word capture,
despite a cipher such as me at high helm,
that would bewilder straight from birth shrewd,
of that neat modern context sibling fashion,
but where and when must I attempt,
concentrate, have a stab, random shot,
whilst dour staff member's explanation,
of the obvious (to them) bizarre buttons,
array of digit stretcher obstacle extent,
and their tongue straining (at least to me)
cogency to this perfervid project soft spot,
in my judgement a prompt own enterprise,
under snug glow of one so deeply loved,
I wish to mould peerless pillow phrases,
in the parchment of a broad text field,
a blank vacuum outlier germane paddock,
inviting serenader ruby-rim pulse rhyme,
from doe eyed maven on solemn quest,
such as I to woo and weave opal gems,
purple moon of enchanted epic oaths,
that is shrouded linger oe’r poignant mutualism,
postcards, Christmas cards, birthday cards,
they are hearty plenteous in each type,
did I omit the jewel engraved anniversary?
if I did a paltry plea is mere trifling token,
for such incidental oversight benchmark,
yet I gaze bemused at such electric galaxy,
that coordinating camp dispensation on screen,
fondly touted as maximum customer choice,
dainty dots, divine dashes, hue stain icons,
one now has with ample deft adornment,
at disposal of this reluctant faint hearted suitor,
whose limp gumption might falter at first step
The day comes to a close
Enchanting golden sunset appears above the lake
Peacefulness of the lake comes down the soul
Yet it is like an eye of the storm
Soon the silver blue countenance of the moon appears
As fishermen sail towards home
They feel uneasy
Like something is watching them from behind the rushes
Eerie haul transverses the calm night
Predator is on a prowl
The wolfs are fearsome bold and intelligent
Lords of the north
But closer to the equator
There is something much more sinister
In east Africa the predator is awe inspiring
And terrifying
You might think it’s a lion
With its glorious mane
But it’s what locals call mngwa
And it drives them insane
In mngwa’s eyes so deep
The very demon sleeps
It awakes at night
When village itself sleeps
It kills people and children
Putting dread in a soul
Its fearsome eyes
Are like two moons when there is no actual moon at all
Looking in them one has to contemplate
What possessed God in heaven?
To make a beast with such trait
That comes close to human villages lying in wait
That stalks the night
Especially when moon is not bright
That has no fear at all
To take down human soul
When one gazes upon the eyes
Into a demon that in them lies
Evolution depends on climate
Genetics, and pray from zebra to bird in the skies
But if you see mngwa it seems that God enjoyed
To make something straight from the void
Something little bit like us maybe that was his point
Something that spawned but needed no evolutionary reference point
But if something like that could exist
Ultimate consciousness can differ if different reference to it will exist
But if from something from void being the reference we insist
What kind of power the ultimate consciousness has if it does exist
Toilet Bowl Committee (aka: Uptown Hood)
A lavatory confinement
my$h!tdontstinkcomode.com
---
If you want to moderate this place, pick up the pace
From the mouth down to the @$$
Your so called kind has no class,
Fed by these political rejects, never elected for what was!
No matter,
They wipe their assets clean with our dreams
Forgetting to wipe their own toilet seats clean
Trying to make us feel dirtier than scat
Feeding off our paper when their toilet bowl water level is low
Toilet bowl PO-poes, wiping without dental floss
Missing everything in between reality
Trying to be kind, saying "One Day We'll Be Good Enough!"
Offering their Golden Plunger,
straight from the Home Depot shelves
No Thank You! My plunger a true gift from Mr. Wal-Mart himself
Next time you feel the need to offer a reference point
Please caption your name when you drop by,
Rinse thoroughly when speaking my name,
Then I will listen when you talk civilized
Correct my punctuations and spelling errors
The weakest trait you wear
You are no Prophet, just white tissue turning brown
Your Justification comes from old dry grapes falling from the vines
Ridicule will never give you the respect, for what you are!
We, the few poets from the hood,
overpower any change you offer Goodwill
Crumbling and flushing what does not meet your standards
Trying hard to force feed us soup, without giving us bibs
Thank you
Toilet Bowl Committee
For clogging up my drain with your bull$h!T
By: Keeping it Real (The Downtown Hood)
Date: 12-15-13
~*~
Golden dawn appears on the horizon
The sun has just risen
Billow brings smell of sea to nearby beacon
On the escarpment stands ancient dun
The morning dew gives freshness to the meadow
Away from light ancient hornbeams cast eerie shadow
In their boughs all knowing wind will blow
It will caress them like divine caresses the soul as they grow
They are gateway to world just as ours real
That has an uncanny feel
It is not as well lighten as ours but just as real
It is the place that perhaps all wounds can heal
But it can be a dangerous venture
Yet it is spellbinding adventure
To every question it is an answer
It is the gift of a dreamer
The writer of the universes laws is at the base
By it formed neural flame you find in this place
This force is increased like spirit is increased by planets position in space
And perhaps to very God this force its extension can trace
But for it to true divine it be
It must be
In no reference point to numerical control of destiny
And answer the question of meaning of life in its majesty
Beyond all that it has to answer all ever growing questions of philosophy
All the questions that from its glory spawned would be
And it would answer questions that are higher ends of philosophy
And all of them that on or beyond this line would be
From base as from this force ultimate consciousness would be
In state of perfect equality
Absolute in all majesty
And telling that story of soul portal wind and hornbeam would be
His spawning would be free and dedicated to those that were beholding of his challenges, those that began ahead of this time, those that look out beyond this point in time.
He would be placed carefully with absolute purity in a diminishing amount of support. The fight was only in terms of molecular structure comparable to a reference point.
There is no realization a conscious utopia can bring a Steelhead in the shallow puddle he fights to escape, the puddle of his abandon neglect to fight beyond the constraints of the puddle.
Tomorrow may bring rain that fills a mind dried and packaged. Bigger fish school to retreat to open waters. Your puddle gathers, do not lose your scales to the winds of a beach on an island unseen.
Find the escape to take your place before a demolition of nature with those that claim to control it. Down the road awaits directions, place care and reward yourself with freedom.
Find and secure the very love you risk all at no thought. Retrieve all behind and bring forward to safe haven. Challenges cannot destroy the fortress standing before it.
Coarse bottoms reveal sharp edges on all sides. Swim swiftly beyond the shards that cut. Propel yourself, do not look for the tug, your fenders will slow the progression of any harm in time for attention.
Don't be lured by shiny lights on top of fake personalities. Don't allow your bait to be over served and under appreciated. Find your deep spot and pray for a catch and release.
They were married and enjoyed it the most,
They both earned and made more and more,
They were wealthy and healthy beyond compare,
Life flowed in little gems and pearls,
As they thickened marital gel,
However marriage could not bear the fruit,
When they wanted it most,
Soon desperation took over,
Medicine could not just help,
Frustrated to no end,
They landed in an orphanage,
And brought someone home,
She was a delight to hold,
Little arms,puny legs and a solid head,
Their face glowed when they saw her broad smile,
Their time riveted on her and her alone,
She snuggled in their arms as if their own,
They fed her,schooled her,dressed her and more,
She spoke her first words called “Mom” and then “Dad”,
She outgrew her clothes and they marveled in just that,
Now her words flowed fast as she gushed delight,
Three were together for most time,
And loved it so,
She sought her own adult world outside,
And got herself fixed there well,
Her time was now divided as with all healthy adult,
But her reference point remained fixed at home and them,
Her chemistry with them was about genetic,
It was a chance and they all saw it well,
She was their fresh adult,
As they were her mentors old,
Her psyche was without scars and she was genial and well,
She paced and paced in growth,
And got her own domain,
But her reference points remained pretty same,
Though sometimes it does not happen,
But here the adopted had adapted real well.