Long Researched Poems
Long Researched Poems. Below are the most popular long Researched by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Researched poems by poem length and keyword.
To patronize,
repatriotize,
restore,
co-invest in:
To express positive WinWin attitude,
sacred gratitude,
through mutually cooperative investment
of healthy bilateral Time
past and future researched,
as wealthy sacred history of EarthSpace
SpaceTime ZeroZone Zen
Zero-notnot interest
in equivalent polypathic co-investment,
WinWin
ZeroSum NegEntropic,
right-brain sacred Left-wise/Right-elder ZeroZone,
HereYang-NowYin
Ego/EcoCentric Place,
in MatriarchalBorn EarthTribe.
To vulnerably and transparently matronize
EarthTribal healthy-wealth:
To vocationally transport
mutually cooperative transubstantiating communications
dialectal creolizations
of polynomial languages
Positive/Negative
and notnot in-between
Polyphonic TippingPoints
octave-doublefractal harmonics
5Dimensional binary spiraling
polypathic double-binary WinWin enculturations
Cooperative Yang InterPolitical secularity
with YinSquared IntraPersonal sacrality,
grace-filled DNA with RNA follow the light solidarity for
and integrity of
Patriarchal ReVocational ReStorations
and Green MotherTree reforesting revolutions--WinWin.
COMPANY PRIDE DIVIDED
THEM.
THEY THOUGHT
WHAT EACH
OTHER DID, WAS BEST
IF NOT BEST BETTER
THAN THOSE IN COMPETITION!
THEY RESEARCHED AND
FOUND THINGS TO BE TRUE.
THEY SOUGHT THUR DETAILS AND
FOUND THOSE FALSEHOODS THAT
WERE DEMONIC IN THEIR DETAILS, AND
MADE THINGS DIFFICULT FOR CLARITY.
THEY USED MYTHS TO SOLVE MYSTERIES.
AND FOUND WAYS TO MAKE RIGHT
SOME WRONGS.
WISER MEN SAID THEY WERE FOOLS.
FOOLISH PEOPLE SAID THEY WERE WISE.
COMMON FOLK APPRECIATE
WHAT THEY WERE DOING.
SOME COMMON FOLK, SOME SAW THEM
AS THOSE KINDA PEOPLE WHO DISTRACT
PEOPLE FROM THE REALITIES OF LIFE,
THAT THEIR WORKS,
WERE EXAGGERATED TO CONVINCE A WORLD
TO MAKE THEM SEEM LARGER
THAN WHAT THEY REALLY WERE !
BUT THEY WERE GREAT MEN!
THEY WERE CELEBRATED MEN!
THEY CREATED THEMSELVES
THRU THE EXISTENCE OF THE PAST
SO THAT THE ART OF BELIEVING
WOULD BE SEEN IN CLEAR VIEW
AND APPRECIATED!
One day my dragon, discovered how to read; whomever taught him, is anyone’s guess. Once he discovered historical novels; none of us would rest. Night and day, he inhaled words; great fiction, based on fact. Then one day, our power went out; his world, it just went black.
For eight long days endured; we could hardly see but, the hardest thing to take was dragon’s anxiety. “What sort of world is this?” He shouted furiously; “where nothing works, not even lamps; oh no, I cannot read!” We tried our best to calm him; during his rants and raves; it seemed a good idea, but dragon paid no heed.
“I want my books; I have to read!” Screamed dragon, as he cried. His elephant tears soaked carpets; so great was his novel need; we tried to scrounge up candles, matches and the like; but he complained, his head, it ached, from reading in dim light.
Then he had an idea; it was a shocking fright. “My flames,” he said, “Are brighter, than any man made light.” Talk about your lead-ball-drop; our stomachs, it did pierce. “You’ll have to read out in the rain,” we warned him, “not in here.”
The idea didn’t appeal to him and so, he soon conceded; oh, we were so happy, when he did; no father warnings were needed. Then an idea bloomed in me; of which I did relay; perhaps old dragon could be appeased; by some books on tape! So, I went to gramp’s library and borrowed all I could; he loved reading like dragon; before he’d lost his sight. I must’ve pulled 500 tapes from his bookshelves of cedar wood.
Now grump’s; somewhat of a hoarder; leant me half his batteries and an ancient old tape player; dragon gave a crushing hug, when I returned home later. I spread the tapes upon the table; and dragon’s eyes grew with delight; to proportion’s that I’d never seen on him; that very night.
When power finally was restored, to our neighborhood; dragon resumed reading books; his anxiety, gone for good. I vowed that such, would never occur again and I did my research thoroughly, days on the web, I’d spend. I researched every reader; every mp3 and book; dragon was so happy with his new technology. A couple of extra batteries; I’d bought and kept recharged; for downloading stories, I bought him, a pre-paid visa card.
"Zoltar will give you a lot of wisdom
Age is simply a matter of mind
If you don't mind my friend, it doesn't matter
Be careful like a little baby"
AVAM Baltimore Zoltar Machine
[according to the article "Wisdom From Zoltar" Huffpost.com]
Dreams are bizarre
And yet they possess
Wisdom at times and
A deeper self awareness.
In a somewhat distorted
And shadowy place
A limelight beamed
On Zoltars face.
Out of nowhere
A mechanical voice boomed
Zoltars purpose
And to his face I zoomed...
He will "give you a lot of wisdom
Age is simply a matter of mind
If you don't mind it doesn't matter
Be careful like" baby kind.
The hand of stranger
Rested on my shoulder
I dared not turn to see them
Though I wished I had been bolder.
"Insert your coin,' he whispered
'Let's see what he has to say!"
I nervously slipped it in through the slot
And waited anxiously for his voice to play....
"Challenges lie ahead for you
But you need not fear.
You are stronger than you think.
Your reality will become more clear.
How you face your future
Rests within your might
Wether you think you can or
Think you can't, you are right.
The Tigers Eye is made for you
Wear it always and you'll find that you
Will have the courage, conviction and focus
To make your dreams come true."
Suddenly I was in the dark
The whisper said as it faded away
"The rest is up to you, my friend.
I've nothing more to say."
I awoke quite startled,
In a daze and much confused.
So as usual, I researched my dream.
Back to Google, as was used.
For once in my whole life, I did see not;
What is wrong from the right angle of view,
But been just has really hasten my shot...
To get tough handling matters without clue.
Which saddened my heart afterwards to learn,
The other side of the point not researched...
Cum unjust conclusion felt off concern,
Yet succumb not to view insight perched.
With bumps, face romances fearful death's hand,
At reach jogging heart near the hole of time...
Where difference between minute and hour, sand
Eon's alacrity without fear behind crime.
But grace and shame don't pin merciful space,
Like how repentance and favour hack case.
YOU'RE NEUROTIC AND SO AM I.
THE ONLY QUESTION IS THE QUESTION WHY.
THE DICTIONARIES MEANING SEEMED PRETTY WEAK.
I SURELY NEED MORE THAN A PEEK.
I RESEARCHED NEUROSIS ONLY TO FIND.
NEUROTIC STARTS INSIDE MIND.
CARL JUNG EXPLAINS IT WELL.
THERE IS A DIFFERENCE I CAN TELL.
JUNG SAW NEUROSIS IN POLITICS.
WHERE DECEIT, CORRUPTION AND LIES ARE THICK.
POLITICIANS CAN NOT ADAPT.
THEY CROSS THE LINE AND CAN'T COME BACK.
HORNEY'S THEORY IN HER FINAL BOOK.
GAVE A THOROUGH AND COMPREHENSIVE LOOK.
A DISTORTED WAY OF SEEING THE WORLD.
INSIDE THEIR HEAD EVERYTHING'S SWIRLED.
COMPULSIVE DISORDER AND VERY OBSESSIVE.
AS TIME GOES BY IT BECOMES PROGRESSIVE.
ANXIETY, HYSTERIA, CONTROL DISORDER.
LIKE JUNG SAID BEYOND THE BORDER.
IT'S ELECTION YEAR SO BE AWARE,
OF WHAT YOU SEE AND HEAR ON AIR.
DON'T FOLLOW THE HEARD THEY'LL LEAD YOU TO SLAUGHTER,
TELL YOU EVERY THINGS FINE AND PLEASE DRINK THE WATER.
11082016 A.K.A. TRUTH BE TOLD
Virginia, June 8, 1789
James Madison penned the constitution
And on December 15, 1791
It became America’s resolution
The first amendment clearly states
No abridging of the freedom to speak
We may assemble peacefully
With either praise or critique
Facts gathered respectfully
Researched and verified
Presented in a competent manner
So that it’s content is clarified
I am sure this is what Madison meant
When he wrote our Bill of Rights
But people with little or no morals
Have taken it’s meaning to new heights
Our legal right is so often abused
By members of this human race
Speaking not the truth, but secret lies
WIth intent to besmirch and abase
Words contrived of anger not fact
Whispered by a substandard class
Are nothing more than calumniation's
Intended to demean and harass
Comments made in hidden fashion
By those that know they’re wrong
Should reevaluate their own self worth
Before dragging others along
This law was established for one and all
But with this privilege comes obligation
To compose your words with integrity
Absent of false representation
So if you have something to say
That is of any importance at all
Speak only the truth loud and clear
While standing proud and tall
If James Madison were here today
Surely his eyes would fill with tears
At how his words were misconstrued
And dismembered over the years
while figuratively hunting
and pecking around me noggin
force hum theme to write about
lo and behold, the solution
stared me right in front
of my little knob nub nose with gentle clout
cuz, as an avid bookworm, the dictionary,
I enjoy expending hours
to drink up etymological history
relating to the origin and
historical development of words
and their meanings.
with no shadow of a doubt
and most times, this animatronic,
the technique of making and operating
lifelike robots, typically for use
in film or other entertainment
dogmatic, enigmatic fugee dooby
brother beastie boy
(actually a mwm) dislikes to flout
his abilities, hobbies, interests,
as aches hike kant imagine being treated for gout
a disease in which defective metabolism
of uric acid causes arthritis, especially
in smaller bones of the feet, deposition
of chalkstones, and episodes of acute pain.
Boot lemme return full circle
to thematic core curriculum aye started to aim
and express gratitude
to the ghost of Noah Webster,
who gets credit yet also blame
if some snide haughty guttersnipe,
some slovenly individual feels snubbed,
and hence, living personage, said descendent(s)
of oblivion, whatever unknown
man or woman to living persons
stake a valid claim
that his/her many generations removed
heir (Harris), and or heiress ancestor (proven
with tangible researched reportage,
then cited with countless
prestigious explorers of English language),
that a daunting scrivener perhaps
even a courtesan or rich dame
rightfully ought to receive the fame,
thus such living relative might
upend the huck cult personality be game
to dare challenge secure historical niche
ambitiously held by Mark Roget (1779–1869),
British physician, natural theologian
and lexicographer. It was released
to the public on 29 April 1852.
The original edition had 15,000 words,
and each new matured edition
of the Thesaurus grew larger.
I grew up on granddaddy's ranch
There wasn’t a bull I couldn’t conquer
My cowboy boots only came off
When I changed my clothes for soccer
I love the smell of fresh green grass
The sound of the ball hitting the goal post
I love racing down the field
Ya’ll listening? I love soccer it’s the most
Well. let me tell you a little story ‘bout
Flying on a plane
Our team went to Scotland
To play in a big game
My excitement turned to fear
I was just a mess
The players came from the other team
and each one had on a dress
John gave me a flower
I think I saw it wilt
My coach whispered in my ear
Calm down that is a Kilt
Now ya’ll I know I am from Texas
We’re called the Lone star State
We love our fellow man
Ain’t a neighbor that I hate
But to see a handsome boy
Smile and try to flirt
Reach his hand to shake mine
while wearing a wool skirt
I know I know it’s called a Kilt
and it’s a part of their tradition
but what is a girl to do
I’ve never dealt with such conditions
They come in many colors
John’s was green and red
His friend had one of grey and blue
Matched the hat upon his head
The goalie for their soccer team
Was a boy called David Heath
He laughed and whispered in my ear
“We wear nothing underneath.”
Did I mention I’m from Texas?
Well, I ain’t no Southern Belle
The thoughts I had while practicing
Would’ve made my Mama yell
I looked it up in history books
Researched in magazines
To wear one of those in Scotland
Is like a Texan wearing jeans
I tried to act naturally
but all my head could do was tilt
I just had to go back home
and tell the story of the Kilt
finally, about the time the game was at an end
That cute boy from the airport
reached for the ball and had to bend
I still don’t know if he made the goal
I’ll have to ask Coach Milt
because all I saw was what he didn’t wear
underneath his Kilt
03/07/2021
Written for Scotland-One Rule Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
Plenty of errors I’ve made in my life.
In the spring of my life, I made a few.
In mid-life’s sweet summer (perhaps gone by now)
yes, plenty I’ve made in that lifetime too.
Has my autumn begun? If it has, I can say
a recent and awful mistake I have made.
Although for this one I do not take much blame,
the price of this one I have most dearly paid.
I trusted in doctors. I did what they said,
exposing myself to a dangerous thing.
I let them inject me four times in two years.
If only I’d known the woe it would bring. . .
I’ve researched effects of the drug I was given
(some that I got are still not on the list!)
If only I’d researched them since the beginning.
All my suffering I would have happily missed.
New doctors I’ve visited – natural ones
as well as conventional doctors, and yet
no doctors can help me; I’ve taken their tests.
As I lose my money, the richer they get.
I try to be postive, and I have found
a product that helps to regenerate cells.
Two months and counting; my fingers are crossed.
I even do saunas to get myself well.
In some ways I’m lucky, for others who took
the drug that I took are worse off than me.
Some break their bones, lose teeth or their hair.
Others I know exist most miserably.
One thing we all have in common is this:
the drug does not leave us like we have been told
by doctors with “knowledge” and med school degrees.
Their souls to Big Pharma such doctors have sold.
Because of all this, I’m now overcoming.
I eat very healthy; to beat this I MUST.
I’ve learned now to question and not be a sheep.
No longer in doctors will I blindly trust.
I’m strong and determined; I cannot give up.
I like to believe all things have a reason.
Perhaps God would have me bring others to truth
and learn my own lessons for my final season!
Sept. 5, 2019 for Chantelle Anne Cooke' Overcoming Mistakes Poetry contest