Long Stagnation Poems
Long Stagnation Poems. Below are the most popular long Stagnation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stagnation poems by poem length and keyword.
Story telling
seems good and sufficient therapy
for those who feel not so patient
with inefficiencies of story making.
RightWing dominant telling
yelling allows remarkable capital stagnation
v fluidity
of set-back
laid-back
v rapidly
non-vapidly
multicultural health-developing
pace
Supporting v avoiding
StraightWhitePatriarchal privileged
race
toward win/lose universal capitalism
space
My EgoWealthy Yang
disgrace
in conflict with EcoSystemic Yintegral
health communication potential
place
Multiculturally intelligent
in win/win planning and co-design
humbling grace
Avoiding win/lose elite NorthWest sectoral
cornered monocultural history
inhumanely mono-faced
male supreme pectoral
Not even win/win mentioning
eco-politically camouflaged ecofeminist
SouthEast non-elite indigenous
matriarchal
enlightening and empowering
natural/spiritual churched and templed and synagogued
polygoogled BlueWonder and GreenAwe
polyculturing Heavenly Truths
YellowLight dawning our
redawning everyday EarthBeauty,
after climate's darkest ZeroSum
concluding Left v Right
unwinged disempowering hour
Co-investing, in steady shaking
win-yintegral EarthClimate bounty
re-invents ReStoried Listening
preliminaries to healthiest wealth
through EarthStory ReMaking
Rebaking Leftwing eco-health
is also rightwing's truest democratic
empowering resonant CreationBeauty
enlightens bountiful
faith-resilient
ego wealth.
non-judgmental view
simply looking at the play
resting anticipation and memory
love the rhythm to which we gently sway
moment to moment all moments entwined
we imbibe each life pulse in fullness
feeling without sizing the scent
in flowing dynamic stillness
there is no one here within
who seeks fulfilment of desires
that that is is presence in innocence
aliveness innate heart with bliss all afire
negating nothing we partake of all life offerings
free flowing thus sidestepping stagnation
as a conduit of the divine energy
life continuum celebration
01-March-2021
We go in deep
Into waking, dreaming & deep sleep
Recognising singularity
Astonished at duality
When bliss does us smother
Who is the other?
We thus contemplate
God being in all states
What is the source of awareness
Where resides memory in consciousness
Between the differentiated states of being
Or in the void of cessation of breath flowing
Or the one becoming two to climax in union
Let the pause of eternity be God meditation
Slipping gently from state of waking to dreaming
Where falls the tumbler if awareness be unblinking
Likewise who is the mover, the cogniser in the void
Which aspect is disconcerted whilst yet overjoyed
The web of maya having layers enticing stagnation
Each revelation we behold yet bound in limitation
When the cogniser of experience himself disappears
No questions remain as Shiva Himself appears!
10-August-2020
A humanity Slain by a black ghost flame
Because their God was an unspeakable name
A Mournful, Insane, multitude with emnity and self induced labor pains
An Eon that has never awoken - A Copt of Souls- skin of the seas soaken-
in the foamy afterbirth of aftermaths toil, in spoil
by the Unspoken strains
Alone without a soul, or meaningful, rich soils of cultivation, to be grafted in,
birthing anew, and not staying long enough to become unattended, mud from the rain and eroded by sins,
splitting image is a sea splashing your brain
i see all that you do, your stratas of civilizations
Unveiling me of the Mystery of the Unseen, in indignant stagnation
but mildew of what once was a nation
fingertips form fitting on the sill of the stranded looking after loves
dead bug
Dust dried, shriveled and Unspoken for encapsulated in your dung
The Unfitting glove, trying us on for size, tongue in cheek,
begrudging the nudge off the cliff closer
Eons are all too slow for you to fully comprehend its reign
As you grow further in age,
The light of the star
Beside you, fades, phase shifts as darkmatter
and becomes blacker still like soot on the page
Turn you cron-icon along its path
As the dark of the age "Comicon of the lost"
Engaging, you, along its malevolence you are its Priestess, caught
giving burnt offerings of garbage you made special issuance not
all your glimpses, a mirrors tear, somewhere in Time's, Lots
snapped on the dancing diadem dragons lair plot, Dune sand trap, left
"sleeping "in the rough" at the Gates Of Aurizen, a Phoenix Unrisen,
to the Denizens, of the left
Layers of nothingness-spinning placebo, cursing the dark side of our moons
And only silence in raft upon the voided rift
The Unspoken, unspoken,Apathy, ingratitude TheM Ulktra Violence
Them, Humans once lived
Magic is everywhere, but stage magicians,
have no clue, as to what it really is.
Magic built our universe.
That something so complex, as the universe,
could be born of a few elements of pure…magic.
That, intelligent organisms can grow,
from carbon and evolve; that’s magic.
A flower, bush or a tree, unfolding from a seed;
that’s magic.
Real magic; the nature of everything.
An atom, cell, molecule of DNA…magic.
The Visica Pisces in the seed of life,
gives birth to the flower of life.
Metatron’s cube is geometrical magic.
That, all that exists, is composed of numbers;
real magic.
Ideas are born of, dream magic.
Whole civilizations, are birthed into existence by…
dream magic.
Magical wonders, reflected in young eyes;
stir the emotions and captivate the senses.
Scientists…magicians…they’ve no idea,
of how real magic works.
The magic that creates all life,
is beyond known physics;
metaphysics and its comprehension’
lie in hidden realms, where human ego,
blocks science from going.
The real magicians;
those who dare to cross the line,
ego has drawn,
are persecuted and maligned by colleagues.
As magical history unfolds,
wisdom is revealed.
The same science that says:
“humans use only one third of their brain capacity”;
all too swiftly, negate the other two thirds.
Society, self-limiting;
minimizes its own knowledge;
its own magical existence.
Doubt is a game, played by fools;
while belief, is the magical wonderland,
of materializations; yet to manifest.
What exists. in the imaginations magic hat…exists.
Just wave the wand of belief and produce.
Skeptitis, is an overwhelming malady.
Its swollen tendrils,
have kept the world in,
stagnation; far too long.
Belief is the only cure;
the magic of faith,
does move mountains.
the void absorbs
vast array of energy orbs
viewing with non-judgmental eye
arms open in embrace, none does it decry
life giving light of the sun blesses one and all
even though but a handful few stand tall
those dwelling in deep dungeons dark
they too feel the throb of love hark
man endowed by power to discern
way to shed baser instincts yet to learn
empowerment instant in the void of stillness
with head and heart aligned attuned to oneness
in time recognising that everything is vibration
outer eye sees but temporal manifestation
ego mind stagnation in a narrow view
whilst love each instant renews
oh hermit, cultivate mindfulness
flowing continuum caring gentleness
vibrant within, outpouring love unceasing
moment to moment in sync with our breathing
18-January-2021
Sitting at a corner, in the compound
At late midnight, stargazing
Arouse a feeling, feeling so strange
But never dismayed, amidst the strong feelings
Arouse a feeling of great fear, fear of detachment
Afraid of being alone, without company or companion
Entertained, without educating, addiction company
Doing what you knows best, Medicine without effect
Without result, beating around the bush
What do you bring to the table of life
Within your cycle, so you don't recycle
Among those cycle you've outgrown, it's stagnation
Choosing to stand, rather than moving, it stinks
While in the dual lane of life, afraid of speed
Forgetting slow but steady is smooth and smooth fast
Speed kills, when you're out of control, switching
From your space, running your race to another's pace
Life is not a competition, you moves accordingly
Run your race, according to your pace and grace
Not your age, fulfillment matters, age are numbers
A good decision based on knowledge, not numbers
Numbers don't lie. Women and men does, stay Vigilant
I'm writing a book. I've got the page numbers done.
Heroes get remembered, but legends never die
Life changes on a dime, so live life to the fullest.
Spiritual stagnation staggers senses
Insidious insanity of intermittent information
Gruesome gorging of gossips
Nauseating nature of narcissistic news
Oppression of other opinions
Flouting false faithfulness freely
Transparent traitors of truth
Hypocritical hype of haters
Evildoers exemplifying egregiousness
Transgressive territorial targets
Investigation into innocent itineraries
Mercilessly manipulating mainstream
Evidence effectively to expressively
Symbolize significant sign of the times
April 25, 2018
Sign of the Times Contest By John Hamilton
Third Place
Ancient guardian of the sacred essence,
You wander through the taciturn void of slumbering souls
Where the shadow of truth gravely trickles into hieroglyphs,
An affection imprinted,
Upon the white colossi, cloaked in moss, who once
Reflected in faith lofty secrets,
The signatures of visionaries of yore
Howl an ode to knowledge,
Then beg, like an elixir, the heart of endless vigil
To chant a resurrection,
A living codex of verbs deeply carved into existence
To break free from the frame of a retouched chrysalis
With perilous oaths to tear the veil of stagnation,
To rekindle the polar flame of evergreen truth
In leaps unfolding from sidereal numbness
Illumination pleads for a reborn symphony
Truth with fresh breath –
That antagonizes a caravan of unforeseen revelations
That sows new causes for renewed deeds
In the sanctuary of the heart that waits with open embrace.
shaking off
the stagnation
of winter’s hold
ivory snow m e l t s
nourishing Gaia’s soul
jump-starting
millennium-old cycles...
birdsong brings
the dawn of a new season
salmon streams
of wispy clouds
streak crystal-clear skies..
whilst early morning
dewdrops glisten
on opening spring buds~
a silken zephyr cascades
across saline waters
mingling with the
scent of freshly
cut grass in warm breezes...
buttery daffodils cluster
creating nature’s bouquets~
rebirth resounding,
hope coursing through
every molecule
of oxygen