Long Specialized Poems
Long Specialized Poems. Below are the most popular long Specialized by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Specialized poems by poem length and keyword.
It is not necessarily established as True
that all capitalist
and patriarchal red roads
lead back to EmpireBuilding Rome
Ancient Rome as original win/lose supremacist Home
unveils no more than an intuitive health preference
for global eco-political win/win consciousness
as both ecologically True progress
way to restore home
and Beauty's economic co-redeeming GreenWealth
of peaceful bell-curved
syncopating bicameral heart-beat
within healthy co-regenerative process home
In patriarchal survivalist competing climax
and in matriarchal thrivalist cooperative rest
and mostly in-between
with some middle mediating multicultural class
and polycultural healthy sass,
impassioned compassionate
ego/eco-nonviolent
win/win ecopolitically co-impassioned conversations,
history enculturing intelligent process
depicting depolarizing both/and
healthy progressive red through green
democracy roads
lead to EarthMother Home
In local communities
with cooperatively mentored hands
on both up and down hill
thrive and survive bilateral pulses,
best day ecological green commitments
and worst red days of egocentric challenges
Inviting further journeys back
through cooperative communication histories
concerning transubstantiated ecopolitical Trust
that all cooperative
and ecofeminist creolizing tidal rivers
ebb and swell
re-connecting secular/sacred
healthy seasoned HomeGrown
green wealth
Is cooperative
co-passionate Red/Green multi-paths
refined in disciplined Beauty
through all co-invested and matriarchally creolizing seasons
leading back and forth
in surfing green ecofeminist win/win Wombs
progressing
empowering
enlightening
communing
sacramenting
re-connecting
re-ligioning
Earth HealthyHome
Green integrity outdoor shines
enlightening transparent, red historic
inside hoarding, empirically specialized
military-industrialized vulnerable powers
of economic red-cultural privilege.
Justice In America
by Edmund Siejka
Sam, the lawyer
Needed a real job
Short on cash
And unable to find work
He did what he knew best
He sued the government.
The job he wanted
Held promises of security and a steady check
But it required knowledge of government regulations
And fluency in Spanish
Sam had neither.
Much to his dismay
He was not selected for the job
Infuriated
Sam filed a request for a hearing.
Over his strenuous objections
An Administrative Law Judge
Found that Sam did not have the combination of specialized experience
To help him do the job well
And denied his claim.
Brooding over a long, cold winter
Sam decided on a plan
In early Spring
He filed an appeal before the full Commission
Complaining that the Agency’s reason for not selecting him
Was merely a pretext for discrimination.
Sam further argued that he could have easily learned how to perform the job
Because his was an attorney
With credentials clearly superior to the other candidates.
In a rather short three page decision
The Commission
Concluded that Sam’s legal education was not so exceptional
As to undermine the Agency’s decision not to hire him.
Recognizing that discretion was the better part of valor
And realizing that his money was better spent
On the basic necessities of life
Sam left the State of New York
And relocated to Florida
Where he now sells used cars
To elderly widows.
He was raised by different indigenes,
After being embedded in specialized tissue,
Those moments were tough,
And in fact, it wasn`t easy for the mum,
Did you recall that point the dad was contemplating in hard times?
That was all about their child’s successfulness to arrive in a failing world,
Perhaps, the couples never stationed their class on dignation and confidence,
Because all over their positions were seen panic and indigence,
From the prime time of their worthiness,
The family had their story written on board of joy and gratefulness,
Effort opened door for the child to be learned,
The child was impelled to stay victorious bit by bit when knew she was grabbing a career she always altered,
Like a joke said by a drunkard, it was just a meep rimmed,
Panting untimely was due to dribbles from blowing wind,
New season arrived when the family got asserted to be placed on broken home,
Everyone had no choice than to feel alone,
Except the child who chose to climb the ladder before she broke her heart bone,
The ladder was “drug addiction life”,
It was “immoral life”’
Then what else?
“Desertion”, that was the significance of the ladder,
On a wrong path the child walked, joined a queue that laid a faulty hand making her a blunderer,
Who advocated a topic of caring for her?
Nobody searched for her whereabouts,
Since both parents were remarried, she was left in a drought,
It`s very sad, because her life turned into a bout,
After sojourning in vagrancy,
She was shot on the field of robbery,
And now her body is still in the morgue,
Whilst investigators inquire about what went wrong.
But who deserves the blame?
I used to be an archaeologist,
and minored in paleontology,
had a job at a college and tenure,
Dr. Bascomb was what students called me.
I specialized much in the early years,
the emergence of civilization,
in summer I’d go and oversee digs,
usually at work in foreign nations.
But the strongest dig I even went on
was right here in the good ol’ USA,
we were working in South Indiana,
the repercussions echo to this day.
They’d found something buried deep in the ground,
and it had been there for millions of years,
what shocked the world, it was made of metal,
all sorts of theories ran, all sorts of weird.
It seemed to be a bunker of some sort,
with big rooms twice as tall as they should be,
and strangers still, based on the soil depth
it had been built just before the K-T!
Who was building things in the Cretaceous?
This was the question that boggled our minds,
but this way only the beginning of
the weirdness, yes, so much more did we find.
On the walls we saw strange, claw-like markings,
in a vertical pattern that was clear,
all figured it was a form or writing,
deciphering it took us two whole years.
And when people could read what was written,
the authorities clamped down rather fast,
they threatened our jobs, all our livelihoods,
but I will speak the truth of this, at last.
You see some Dinosaurs were sentients,
born of the Deinonychus family,
the ones mistakenly called ‘raptors,’
because of that damn blockbuster movie!
Anyway, if this was all that we’d found,
we would’ve said so and it would be great,
the type of find that could make a career,
something to explore and investigate.
But the real world isn’t that simple,
amidst the claw-mark writing we’d find
how advanced these dinosaurs truly were,
that they had developed a real A.I.!
In fact the writing was only up there
because the A.I. had written the words,
to make sure the truth of things would live on
despite the hellish K-T disaster.
We thought they might have seen it coming then,
that great asteroid that slammed into Earth,
maybe they had tried to hide in this place,
Tt make sure some dinos escaped the hurt.
But things got stranger as we kept reading,
see the dinos had used biology,
instead of circuits, they used DNA,
engineered organic thinking machines...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Girls could not wear pants to school
When I was just a kid
And on our feet were shoes, not sneakers;
That’s just what we did.
We got dressed up on holidays
Or specialized events
Like Broadway shows or graduations;
There were no dissents.
Grown-ups also went to work
In dresses, suits and ties.
Decorum was the rule of thumb then,
Meant to civilize.
We’ve come a long way from those years.
Now there are no set rules
And most would claim they like this freedom;
Dress codes are for fools.
Yet there are times I look around
At people at their jobs
And what I see is the result;
So many look like slobs.
I wouldn’t want restrictions like
The ones we used to know,
But it bothers me that sloppiness
Is now the status quo.
" A close friend was betrayed by one of the Chiefs
and was tortured to death by being roasted slowly while strung up
high on a tree branch.
His misery was rich.
His name was Red Spirit in English.
I'm very proud of the Roman's achievements in law and architecture.
They were a very strange race,
very hostile & very obedient to a sense of honor which is why they could be so easily manipulated by law.
At that time in particular I specialized in making men into Gods.
Those were good times,
making marble from concrete."
you mention your admiration for the law,
some would say that you are a lawless Being
like a stone that ignores gravity,
a Jew who rejects scripture,
Satan said,
" There are two forms of law, real & unreal, defacto & dejure,
there is color of law and organic law,
natural rights and government codes.
Ultimately there are only two types of law;
jurisprudence designed to control others actions, which presents
consequences for violation and compliance,
and then there exists personal, subjective law,
otherwise known as principle or convictions.
Every man or woman performs according to their principles,
even if choosing to comply with laws foriegn to themselves.
This is how slaves are made,
people in bondage choose to be enslaved,
they accept the domination of another as mans' thought often permits
passion to terrorize, or tantilize judgement.
Law is like a rainbow,
one picks their favorite color following it all the way to the horizon." ,
what about God's law I asked,
historionically He remarked,
" God has His laws and I have mine."
Next I asked, have you ever been in love with a mortal?
" Oh yes, many times, take a look at this."
He handed me a thin, square golden casing
having an arabesque pattern etched on it,
when I touched the item it was as though an ancient sea breeze swept over me ,
He continued, " Open it, thats Tamitha,"
He was eager for me to be eager, I said,
" Shes got a smile similar to yours."
Tamitha was the daughter of a high ranking warrior named Bartos
in a large Germanic tribe
protecting the Rhineland from incursion."
J.A.B.
Whatever You say God
Who am I to say it differently?
You see things to come
You know what it will look like
I can’t dispute You
My mind is of natural mind
I don’t see what You see
Think what You think
Envision what You will
I don’t see how You can do it
The magnificent feast
But You will do it
I will trust in You
Have Your will
What You say will be
What You promised will come
Yes Lord
It is all in You
Deliver, fulfill
Personalized, specialized
By Your own making
Who can resist it?
Yours God
Are of unequal
Unparalleled
Unchangeable
Uncomprehending
It’s all Yours
That You have called them from the beginning
Destined
Predetermined
To be the absolute ours
God, how can I say it differently?
Two brothers hailed from the old country, from Donnybrook -
one more like an engineer, the other like a cook.
They specialized in pancakes - the best, you can't deny.
Sean made them taste like heaven, and Finn stacked them high.
Supplies came from all around, in wagons and in trucks.
Sean whipped up the batter, and ol' Finn he constructs,
with eggs from every chicken and milk from every cow,
maple syrup miracles from the oats that they did grow.
When these flapjack masters grew old and had to die,
they made a stack of hotcakes and they climbed it to the sky.
Kids, each time you eat griddle cakes, you should be like me,
stack 'em high and think of Sean and Finn McGee.
Dearest Cousin Madelyn,
Let’s sit in the rowboat, near the dawn’s verdant shore.
Where a squirrel sits under the Oak, that we once...so adored!
We can discuss music, or our fabulous families’activities.
Later, listen to jazz, Dave Brubeck, who was our sweet, chosen proclivity.
It was so fantastic, to be blessed with an intelligent cousin,like you.
Teaching me, oh so many things, I did not know how to do.
And,now, alas, you have gone to be in the heavens above.
You, Madelyn, who was the gentlest epitome of love!
Illness robbed this earth of your laughter and endless mirth.
You never whined about pain, you were not one to whine about hurt!
You are free now to explore the marvels of your beloved, outer space.
I can see that majestic, starlit, smile on your face.
We join here today at a Celebration of Your Life.
The spirit of you, is here, gently erasing our earthly strife.
Love,
Cousin Pangie
Dedeication. Madelyn was a poet here for a only a brief period of time. She was, by then, too ill to write.
Like many here, she was a teacher! In Wisconsin~ who specialized in science.. Her biggest thrilll was winning an award and going to where Astronauts train.
A teacher who actually taught for the joy of being with children~not a large paycheck or more days off. Madelyn also taught skiing on the weekends in the hills of Wisconsin.
She had no love for those out the destroy the Comstitution or American values.
She was a true Pariot.
A lover of animals, she fed the deer in her backyard, loved flying, boating, water skiing and sno-shoeing!
Her life was about service and love...of those countries from whence her grandparents came. Intensely, proud. And she was a world traveler, too.
5/16/2022
Curriculum vita in a perfect suit for the over emphasized job,
overwritten obituaries by all means towards the career to the top.
Artificial titles painting in phrase the landscape of the desire,
everybody loves a piece of paper with their name to admire.
Experts and highly trained specialized managers filling the dots,
functional mediocrity in responsible hierarchy for perfect slots.
Credited assurance in advance for long time chain reaction,
procedures towards the hatching office block satisfaction.
Glorious evolution in colored spread sheets entangled,
management in need of young and hungry wills commingled.
Names of schooling as prestige by all credit and expense,
honors taken in ceremonies to arouse all senses.
Dopamine for the ego’s rejuvenation as bonus,
reality check up at times to proof, so ferocious.
Everyone gets justified by a fiction curriculum,
mental doctrine harbored in a cubiculum.
Values from the past in other circumstance survived,
the name and its black and white calling have arrived.
Via veritas vita, by authorities by all means implemented,
leadership without vision will always act demented.
If the ideal is the reason to proof of what you are by the dot,
it will be of no good trying to proof what are not.