Long Seniority Poems
Long Seniority Poems. Below are the most popular long Seniority by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Seniority poems by poem length and keyword.
I waited
Under the outspread foliage
Of the banana tree,
With ripening fruits dangling precariously,
Wondering,
With eyes set on the earth,
Wishing I understood
This everlasting madness.
To what end would man go,
To what end?
A mystery it remains,
Like the age old conundrum
Of the seniority between the hen and the egg,
Like the unfathomable depths of the bottomless pit...
Oh! Lamenting in unbridled grief,
Mother of all,
Seated on an ashen throne,
Wails poignantly,
While her children trade mighty fists,
Wetted by her tears,
Buoyed no less by her flashing darts
Of fierce reproof..
I, a mere bystander,
Watching, meditating, confused,
Lost, trying to understand what
Led to such fisticuffs
Between brothers who sucked on
The small obfuscated nipple
And rode the same burdened back..
Yes!
To what abysmal end?
What, hidden under the rigid crusts of the earth
Drives man to seek so zealously
To bury his fellow man
Six inches below
And shake his head
From side to side
Wearing rehearsed frowns,
Indifferent, obeying the laws
Of anarchy, and basking
In the prestige
Of ill advantage?
For in these matters,
Fasidically christened "the survival arts"
Men show sleight of hand,
Dexterity and mastery of the deleterious science
Of death...
And for his fellow, he is unapologetic..
Fallen, have you into the cesspool
And mucky wastes of nothingness,
You survived not,
And as such, were not fit to survive...
We, must hold our
Small heads in mad agony,
For shamelessly, we have
Trampled on the little men,
So dastardly disparaged
Till they shrunk,
Into tiny ants
Who suffer in silence
While the mammoths fight
For the trophy from Sheol..
I wondered....
Days passed,
Nights went by, sleep eluded me,
Nightmares sought out my deranged mind
And tormented me,
And I could not bear it any longer!
I searched the lengths and breadths of the earth
For answers, from men
wizened beyond my years,
But found them not...
I found only fools,
Tightly snuggled in their cosy territories
With mighty barricades
And tall barb-wired fences,
Throwing orgies...
For they had defeated themselves...
It was then, I slept...
This time, in the gentle
Stillness of the Caspian,
Wishing I was never born....
Who are you most longing to become?
How we answer this is different for an ancient rooted tree
than for a recent immigrant
searching for a niche of stable self-sufficiency.
Who we already have become together
feels more important to thriving groves of WiseElders
than to adolescent immigrants
actively learning creolizing bilingual skills
still coming together for survival.
So too, offering Sanctuary,
becoming Sanctuary,
inviting bicameral Sanctuary,
is rooted in Green complex nutrients
for feeding,
and warm wet watering
whispering easier
cozier
more accessible nutrients
for everyone--
but especially appreciated
by more recent emigrants
flowing into a new garden of hospitality,
of multicultural cooperation,
of shared cooperative residence
and patterns of safe,
sometimes exciting, new transport
toward healthiest wealth.
A gardener's intent
to both offer and share sanctuary
may provoke well-nurtured gratitude
in a recent annual immigrant,
but a more sleepy and self-satisfied entitlement
in mature seniority of perennials,
Yet, primordially feeling and speaking,
we are all immigrants newly becoming together
with each new dawn,
and determined to cooperatively rest
in grateful dreams
with each renewing dusk.
Who are we most belonging within
by becoming Green Sanctuary
together?
Some guilds of mutual interest
and investment
invite growing a cooperative sanctuary for food,
fuel,
fiber
Other teams choose cooperatively owned and managed shelter,
gardens,
farms,
transporting cars and trucks
and bikes and horses,
Others focus on cooperatively owned and managed soil,
observing that democratically co-invested compost,
like capital,
fertilizes healthy savings in a nutritional bank
for cooperative food constituents.
And so it goes,
whether Republican or Democrat,
Libertarian or Green,
Who we want to become together
is more cooperatively resilient,
more robustly compassionate
and co-empowering,
so less aloof
alone
smug and self-satisfied
about our competitive win/lose economic
and partisan histories of colonization;
When, truth become remembered,
we are all reborn naked emigrants
and needy immigrants.
When the Universe created the Universe and allowed for challenge
It was quite open to change and the preponderance of ageing times
Youth is not a crime and the respect for seniority has to be earned
Oh my Lord let there be earth under heaven it might have intuited
A primordial bang and atoms swished as mute mutations ensued
It had not considered that people were to talk back or quite forward
Like moody teenagers or wayward sycophants refuting the Source
Seven days later the mess was complete and an apple indigested
Abel was disabled and begetting begot generations of philistines
Time is a stretchable concept but conception quick and unpredictable
Dinosaurs passed in the flash of a pang before stones turned to bronze
And into dogma of gold mined for the pockets of inequality and gluttony
Arcs for walking on water and one lousy fish for many wretched souls
A sole and meagre bouillabaisse yet diamond soles on feet in contempt
Dinosaurs came and went stones turned to bronze and with it tools
Of destruction where synthesis and harmony should have prevailed
But that was then and there and today is here and now and counting
We have lost the abacus in computerized algorithms and the plot in the
Process of post modernity and post selfies and trivia on glittering face book
Discarded essence and existential meaning on face value of tale telling times
An icon once had a different meaning as smiling faces are arrested in botox
But not all is lost when social media and mediums hex and bewitch the planet
Opium for the masses finds novel experiences addicted to shallow delight
Ten Year Challenge before and after a self-righteous pride in rigid acclaim
A decade is a miniscule timeline of Self that speck of dust in a galaxy
And thus I cherish my wrinkles the grey in my hair the scars and defeats
Have no need for glossing and photo shop and for the denial of passing
A crooked tooth here or there and a broken crown of vital humanity
And thus I will not diminish my hunger for living in the moment of truth
22nd January 2019
One day Water said to Earth
“I ruled long before your birth,
I was here first, I hold the key,
Bow down to my seniority”
Earth replied to water with a laugh
“I paved my own path!
You may have been here first, it’s true,
But in the end my might bested you.”
The oceans swelled and roared
And the skies, they violently poured
As Water threatened to once again drown
So then Air jumped in with a frown
“Must you two always bicker?
This fuss will cause Fire to stir,
We all know what a bother he will be,
So please agree to disagree, peacefully!”
But the intervention came much too late
As Fire awoke with a blazing shake
“Who was here first, that’s no victory,
Not when there is a force as great as me!”
Fire began to swell with pride
Until Water doused him in her tide
Earth laughed with a great big rumble
Filling Water with rocky crumble
Water replied with a great big wave
Leaving Earth’s garden naught but a grave
“My flowers! You have drown them all!
With that Earth shook down a great waterfall.
Water cried out, for she was undeniably vain
Without it she felt quite plain
Fire, still upset over the blow to his pride
Joined up and took Earth’s side
The three began to unleash their wrath
Destroying much in their explosive path
Until Air decided that she had had enough
And she blew with one mighty puff
To pieces the Earth fell with a bash
And Water flew back with a crash
Fire shrunk into a tiny light
And Air took advantage from the break in the fight
“Why must you always try to be superior?
When we got along, things were merrier.
We work so much better
When we work together!
Earth, you and Water pave the way
So the creatures of the world can live every day!
And Fire, you are needed just as much
Life would perish without your warm touch.”
Water ran smooth, feeling foolish
Such destruction was never her wish
Earth grew still similarly,
“I am so sorry,” said he.
Even Fire seemed to feel some shame
As he all but extinguished his flame
The elements worked together once more
Another quarrel added to the stories of lore
Subsequent seances of satorizing sanctities signal two fold sinfold shat sightings of nevertheless neverings that all ways
super suggest our innate inadequacies pertinent to socio precious
pontifications post prevalant askings of the revr
irrevelant rationings of a rationedrace resigned to complacent cow a tures politico compliant to the inner igno twinings adjacent to your soul
sellings as they relate to yr inner partisanplasmic potentials. remember yr humble DNA, beginnings as they restorocoordinate
yr predisposed primary plastic parental beginnings as to what is for u as an emo entitiy. As a parent times three of the son persuasion,
I can contrast contemplate the socioprotocals that r supposed sublime to cater to the male powers to be and socio sale the rental rites of
tremors that will swell the estrogenic ebb tides of common bond intelligence. I am at a personal peramater that is awash with the
paritisan status quo and the beliefs that LIE within the scope of their being. Retread the constitution and all that the FF's put into place for
the good of the postulate union as a WHOLE. Persuasion is inconsequential, no matter,
in---adequate as to its modern day relevance explicit. If u can't sociocope and lean really far foreward, and do us a big
FAVOR AND OFF YOURSELF, OR CONVERT, INTELLIGIZE YOURSELF, RE EVAUATE YOUR brAIN RELiaANCE, SEEK STRENGHT FROM YR gone YOUTH, IF U CAN STILL FIND IT, AND GO
INWARD TO LEAP OUTWARD TO HELP ALL OTHERS
REGARDLESS OF RECOGNITION, WEALTH, SENIORITY OR ANY SELFSERVING SIGNAGE OF SELF RIGHTEOUS SIGNFICANCE.
THE BEST HELP IS THAT WHICH IS GIVEN, USED, AND PASSED ON, NO THANKS NEEDED,
PAY IT FORWARD times 3. Give is as Give does in the insignificant web we weave. Careful with who u have for breakfast,lunch, dinner, snack,desert
and night cap. All things being ugly equal r alive and wish u ill. Perverse protocol is protected in a nestled non conveyrance of abbey normal malice. Step right up!
In the supine chambers of my mind:
Thoughts of different hues spring up unsought
They crisscross like fireflies in the dark
Dancing virtually 3D all night
Love isn’t always reciprocal
In several cases; many will vouch.
One way traffic, is true in love too.
Romance and marriage being exceptional ties
Are stereotypes and status quo a boredom?
How does one retain self respect and dignity?
Is getting old akin to walking up hill
Does pursuit of virtues lead to spirituality?
The Generation gap is absolute
Senior citizens get branded folks
Age ushers feelings of isolation
Is ‘time to quit’ the next foreboding?
Does seniority start at Sixty?
Or in Seventies, Eighties, Nineties?
What about one hundred and plus?
Is a senior human an asset or a liability?
Spouse alone is synonymous with trust
For guaranteed love and care
For emotional and physical relief
Tending siblings rank the best
Is keeping one to oneself not right?
Prayers offer solutions to a roller coaster
life
Joint family promises solace
Yet freedom in old age makes little sense
Are old friends the choice to confide
the troubling thoughts?
Is it the close acquaintance or
childhood stamp?
Do love, romance, relationship leave
a soft touch?
Are passions just avenues for escape ?
What about the thoughts that bombard?
Gratitude forgotten and guilt unpardonable
Victories cherished and challenges pocketed
Defeats shunned and
despondency sunk
How about happiness on achievements
Missed opportunities weighing heavy
Hopes brimming and despair haunting
Victories inspiring and failures devastating
What about lingering memories of
good and bad?
Causing ripples in the pools of mind
Betrayal, ingratitude and sorrow,
Love, friendship and separation.
The night is always dark and silent
Many times sleep is far and evasive
Yet the eyelids close for rest
When the fireflies stop to fly!
"Destination: New Covenant"
When we arrived
at our destination,
the place they called
"New Covenant",
we were assigned
fresh armour.
we thought the war
left long and far behind us;
of course,
our ranks had changed,
but our allegiance
for saving contracts
in the between worlds place
was much to our disbelief,
swiftly locked in again.
we were, one must admit
with good humour -
hell-bent, resigned.
Our redeployment
steadfast, some considered
insane, we had no time
to complain.
we, were told to 'man-up'
this was our mission -
so we, the perceived
fallen, unsubtle yet,
viably courageous,
remained
stoically aligned.
"Karma is a b**ch",
the untainted remaining
flaunting their immunity
from return, watching
in their safe sectors
playing their harps,
all chimed.
We saluted,
smiled back at them,
and sardonically
flipped the birds -
we weren't 'tweeting'.
switched on, we were,
in our protection.
Light suits
full commando wings
on display,
we boarded the
supersonic getaway
and at the helm,
The Firm's leader,
the No. 1 Honcho,
the Big Cheese,
the Chief-in-Command
delivers us from...
well, you know the story -
His rank
is very well deserved
earned by blood,
sweat and tears.
Worthy of respect -
over us, he has many years,
seniority, experience.
His instructions
are ultra clear,
some might say,
religious. He's our,
lead stag, we follow, he steers.
He declares, commanding,
loud and sincere,
"Buckle up Legion.
The last battle.
Victory to all.
God speed.
Burning entry
by clouds.
Bury your fear."
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
She said our marriage
Was too much like a job
While we must work to make a living
It was time she laid me off
She was sick of rules, she'd paid her dues
Said I'll see you in the hall
Then she told me that my pension
Really was a little small
I'm not sure when we joined the lovers union
She thinks she's president
Of our residence
And that's led to some confusion
I ain't out on strike
But I feel the strife
And I've come to the conclusion
That I'd rather have my right to life
Than be in this lovers union
Now I'm not sure
I care to ratify
The contract that we entered in
On our wedding night
Cause It seems that all of our I do' s
Have turned to our I dont' s
And the grievance for her leaving
Is that she feels all alone
I'm not sure when we joined the lovers union
She thinks she's president
Of our residence
And that's led to some confusion
I ain't out on strike
But I feel the strife
And I've come to the conclusion
That I'd rather have my right to life
Than be in this lovers union
So much for
My seniority
I lived in this house first
But now she owns the keys
And the picket fence I built
One post at a time
Left scabs upon my knees
Man she crossed the line
Like the minutes in the courtroom
All her motions I declined
When I found out what I once owned
Was hers and never mine
Now I'm not sure why I joined the lovers union
I'll think long and hard
Before I sign the card
After this conclusion
I ain't out on strike
Yet I feel the strife
All my money she's now using
It's an expensive way one you'll probably pay
If you join the lovers union
Imagine the weight of the air in that house
which in the summer months would strangle you,
wearing heated gloves. Tough luck.
A gulf of emotion that is always a week ahead;
trying to claw back
a sense of permanence
as it lingers in a cold sweat. Windows
crack with discomfort; the place is dead.
All of those whispering memories
that remind me of my crippled crown
an accolade
of atrocities;
dripping with blood that is warm, not red.
Dried it looks a heavy brown, stiff as lead.
Imagine the ricochet of a drunken fist
that snuggles nicely between the nose and lips.
Impact dribbling
down
the spine and slapping the hips. The barrels
of my skull, those holes that whistle in the wind
a sort of lubricated lisp that rests on tears.
A sense of brutal butchery that batters
the borders of belief,
a false economy
to pray that some how, some day and in some
small way this tale will turn. Dismay,
this is not pain. This is not the teething
clamp of a hungry blade, the creasing
curve
through flesh and vein.
This is my reality, or at least it was,
why? because. The luck of the draw, the imploding
exploding, digesting, regurgitating ying and yang
of this universe - the gaunt keeper of humanity.
Sanctimonious,
a symbol of sellotape
that binds me perversely to my past. Manipulative
memories that need to be restrained, filed
with all the crap. A thrill, a subversive
all too serious sensational sense
of seniority,
capped with stark stupidity.
An intoxicated journey that reached an end. Your
choices scarred me; let's not pretend.
grace a Anne Lamott
Among the ducks, who are autonomous,
come and go at will, no passkey needed, and
the raucous Northern Geese in sabbatical here,
who is the Geese Boss Bird? Is there a consensus?
A vote? Seniority, or brute force to elect a leader
for the familial entity that sweeps the air over our heads,
honking in the wake of whoever's le capitain?
From whom do they get their directions,
their criteria for depart and arrival?
In the parking lot beside the lawn sloping down
to the lake where the birds congregate, I
am as still as a Setter pointing his prey, watching
a family of geese in near approach. Mother
Goose and Big Daddy steer six small offspring
being taught to hunt in leaves and grass.
Baby birds, so unafraid and trusting, I could easily
bend down to scoop one up, but Big Daddy's
in his attack mode. Do you believe he
does not watch you? He does...
Try taking a step or two
Some of the ducks are partners: languidly
dipping tandem heads beneath the surface, while
just beyond their conjugal float, two geese
in need of flight training skid to a ragged landing--
no Go Slow sign in evidence. Then, later,
when the Boss Goose sounds assembly, they
make roll call, revving up their motors,
taking to the air, honking all the while, making
that magic carpet that carries them home.
All in unison now...
Such community!