Long Regimented Poems
Long Regimented Poems. Below are the most popular long Regimented by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Regimented poems by poem length and keyword.
society imposes its strict rules
and one of these rules is labeling. for conformity
we are so indoctrinated and regimented
that we rarely judge with our own feelings
we involuntarily put labels: on food, on books, on minds, on feelings
and if classifications had not been invented (Linnaeus and Darwin gave us a helping hand)
we would be swimming in an ocean of shapes and colors
differing from one culture to another
but what the world still ignores and/or hides
is the greatness and uniqueness of love in all its forms
love goes beyond patterns. it is uncontrollable and cannot be classified
love your neighbor! love yourself.
love love so that you can forgive anything, without bias
and above all... love children because they will carry the torch of love further
A thousand bees never settling down,
buzzed within his head.
Their confused drone, into a ruffled rumble grew,
lengthening into frenzied drum beats,
taking the might of roaring waves
or gaining the momentum
of a plane, prior to take off.
Mind lacking coordination
limbs receiving discordant commands,
he suddenly hurtled into the streets,
stepping out from regimented norms
and breaking loose the tether of reason,
never walking, never running
but scuttling from side to side
like a piece of driftwood over the current.
Hearing the cawing of a crow
suddenly, he into a prophet grew.
stood with arms outstretched,
waiting for the crumb of bread
to be dropped in the manner Elijah was fed
by the raven in his lonesome cave.
Seeing the audience swelling bigger
he was enthused, greatly cheered.
The riff- raff and the scraps
swarmed around to see the show.
Mounting the steps to the pulpit,
in unfaltering voice
and with fire in his words,
to the congregation,
surveying him with fun and sneer, he thundered....
“The Doomsday is near”
With finality in his tone, he said-
“Repent and flee from the wrath to come.
The tree that doesn’t bring forth,
good fruits shall be hewn down,
and cast into eternal fire.”
The transition was quite easy.
He scurried from Elijah to John the Baptist
and from John the Baptist to Elijah
oscillating between--
sense and non-sense.
A frigid landscape casts a bitter pall
over a barren nation of weary souls
imprisoned and laden under a regime
of hammer and sickle, numb and cold.
Regimented are the eyes of oppression
unblinking, endlessly watching
scrutinizing, searching, ever searching
grinding down the will, receding hope.
The slow wheel of the gristmill turns
burden of stone, its authority crushes
the spirit. Who can break this
massive millstone, treading over
the tormented masses?
A desperate angst arises to rid the
wretched bile that contaminates the land
strike down the carnivorous bear
and with sheer will and determination
break the terrible gristmill of tyranny.
Written on 5/22/2018
Small rolling hills, valley plots,
nothing regimented,
graves not scattered, but placed
among natural features.
It’s beautiful here
especially in the Fall.
The Maples are tall and burning bright.
There are new graves among the old.
I thank all of them
for being here before me.
Not that I could afford
to be planted here. Even the Maples
are too rich for my death.
No, I will be ashes
thrown
into the Ohio river.
I imagine the fishes will be pleased
to see me,
the abandoned truck tires
easily accommodating my
swirling dust.
If the shore weeds and cattails catch me,
then I will linger until their own death
releases my essence once more.
Down the slow waters,
in chewed, dribbles and drabs will I go
until I seep within a slick of mud,
just spice for mites and grubs
into the Mississippi.
Days bleed their green entrails into
the empty hulks of passing years.
A future, nourished by the ear bones
of all beings who listened, and once heard,
of the everlasting
opens up into a perfect unison.
I reappear transformed
by generations of sprouting dreams
into a Maple seed.
A seed now planted in these same
pleasant Autumnal acres.
Here, I will grow tall and beautiful;
as a many limbed arboreal fire.
Curious ghosts in their mausoleums
will spy into the Fall daylight
to watch my leaves, turn, and grow bright –
so flame red, so burning bright.
Venice, Italy, is a crazy shamozzle of new and old
Where junk, graffiti, decay, stunning beauty,
history and culture poverty and opulence, all reside side by side, bobbing.
Water dominates the landscape, canals and waterways replace all the roads
Everything is carried by boat, food, people, garbage, produce, industrial supplies.
Ambulances, fire engines, delivery trucks and police cars are all replaced by boats.
The disorderly rusty ferries ply the waterways, jostling along with gondolas, magnificent polished wooden water taxis,
Occasionally the historic scene is ruined by modern fiber glass runabouts
with huge outboard motors completely out of place.
Next comes barges with cranes, garbage collecting boats, delivery and construction supply boats, and the many service vehicles.
Grab a table beside the canals and watch the parade of boats old and new jostle and bobble on by.
Walk through the tiny crowded streets and enjoy the kaleidoscope of people of many cultures enjoying themselves.
There are many surprises. Tiny shops with feet in large glass tanks being cleaner by fish.
Everywhere there are places to explore and things to enjoy.
Looming off in the distance you may see huge cruise liners dwarfing the buildings,
These vessels are seemingly populated by ants, as the ships are so big.
The ancient church bells in Venice chime as the ships depart arrive and depart, in homage to the new god of tourism.
The Palace art is simply overwhelming, overloading your senses.
Ancient art is everywhere and often ignored.
Venice is beautiful, but one gets the impression that all the photographs taken in Venice
are gradually sucking out the life force out of the structures, hastening their decay.
There are so many dimensions and experiences, places to explore that you never get tired of Venice.
The more times you visit the better you will like it and the more you will find to do and see.
You have to laugh and ignore the hassles, the jostling crowds, the regimented crowded ferry system,
the pushing and shoving of the crowds in the tiny streets,
simply laugh and have fun.
Venice is crazy, nice, with diverse multi-faceted attractions and lots of things to do.
You will love it!
Venice Trice is Nice.
Civilized Order in America
Allowed a religious freedom of calculated origin for ?
Arisen
A poetic inference of established orders recanted in mass to end an origin in procession.
Army corps of engineers established regimen
Regimented division of labor in circular fashion such as opposite digression a fervor could resume it's origin.
Whilst civilization was constructed seperately above and behind memory of fantastic revelation of efforting the spirited labor to and from.
Codified law dictates moments of inertia after completed rehearsal of successful land.
The completed engineer regaining leave is a New York business man.
The origin of New York Ballet is ongoing and prompt.
Civilized civilization does have means for every living soul to have enough war.
This is where a brigade is dispatched historically in recurring evolution, a description of perfections effectation and a diffusing of tangential orientation of correct
In abundant diplomacy
Orders are followed from origin to a new sight.
This carries garbage out of my sight.
Subjects are held in records by the armed forces inhabiting home.
Military Code of Conduct is easy
Request, Receive Service from legible order.
War Ends
Treasury Overflows and People live in peace with structural engineers in salary building civilization provided opportunity orders to serve God almighty and every living soul left alive.
We are staffed and waiting civilized minds.
Treason may now be written openly in communication
The storm was unrelenting,
Possessed of a fury unmatched by anything he had ever seen.
The wind blew the rain towards the ground in regimented and precise layers,
Legions of droplets descending on the earth like some vast army.
In stark contrast to the disciplined layering of the falling lifeblood of the clouds,
Sheets of water whipped violently about in intricate patterns on the path,
Raging and frothing forward in the manner of a screaming barbarian horde.
He stood in the midst of it all,
Watching gusts of wind propel walls of rain at him.
As they hit him they dispersed into their separate components,
Letting him feel the sting of each individual droplet against his chilled body.
All of a sudden the heavens erupted, spewing forth a bolt of lightning
With a peal of thunder mightier than the most glorious battle-cry.
He watched it race to earth,
Forcing the night sky to shed its dark cloak and reveal all in one awe-inspiring moment,
Captured in time and memory.
Power and Form
Power and form—the two intertwined elements of human existence. Our words, sometimes sweet, other times sour, leave a lasting imprint across the tapestry of humanity. We often say “yes” to please others, driven by our so-called rational minds. But is the life of a poet or poetess more fulfilling than that of a farmer? Are we expressions of nature or mere victims of regimented affiliations?
As unpredictable and impossible species, we roam the Earth daily. Power and form—there’s no secret society (or perhaps there is). Our secrets are laid bare under the watchful eyes of the world. Strangers peruse our family albums, much like they search for emoji hearts and likes to boost their self-esteem in the online revelry. We unwittingly sell our souls to a forceful enemy—jealousy, insecurity, and the curiosity of others.
I celebrate my strength through my mediocre poetry. Why? Because not everyone can compose their feelings onto the screen or paper. Today, I am retired; today, I am free. But some days, even freedom becomes monotonous. Mental fatigue sets in from being so… ??
Located in the perfect place
Filed in transparent drawer
Unruly impediments erased
Facets interact free of flaw
Seamless system clockwork
Methods remain meticulous
Design drawn up by a doctor
Considered, inconspicuous
Routine guides a room's tidy
Itemising verbatim shelves
Briefcase organised abiding
Data struck upon first delve
Packed in precise patterns
Utility is readily predicted
Shipshape sailing on satin
Scurvy sufferers evicted
Fold exposes name brand
Recognised categorically
Regular overhauls planned
Excess viewed as slovenly
Upkeep travels compact
In zipped compartments
Disarray tends to detract
Regimented requirements
8th of **** April
I would have loved Santa to have visited us here
In his coat of red and his eight brown reindeer
Sadly there is no atmosphere left on earth
So we moved to Mars, it’s the place of my birth
Hushed secret stories are told about Santa Claus
But he’s outlawed here it’s against our laws
We have a very regimented regime
Images of Santa must never be seen
We use the Internet to buy what we need
Things are delivered next day at lightning speed
I’ve been told about Santa and the days of old
Just to mention his name on Mars is very bold
Ancient history tells us of the amazing glory
Of Jesus’ birth and of the Christmas story
But during earth years it became very commercial
With over indulgence which was controversial
Sadly Martian children will never understand
The delights of Christmas which forever is banned
Finished too late to submit in the Futuristic Christmas Contest
01~01~16