Long Statistically Poems
Long Statistically Poems. Below are the most popular long Statistically by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Statistically poems by poem length and keyword.
4 and 20 Pies – No Blackbirds
Oh, spare me the plethora of pies
the thumbs-up plumbs,
the pie in the sky dreams
of the pie lovers,
the onerous moooo
of the piebald cow
being milked
by the pie-eyed farmer
as his pied piper wife
lures the chickens
into a pot pie.
Pie charts to measure
children against nourishment,
who cuts, who chooses,
statistically
who wins, who loses,
“pies the type”
of apples on the floor.
It ain’t that simple, Simon
say the “pietist”
who fear
that if Pi can’t be squared
pies end is drawing near.
John G. Lawless
10/9/2014
submitted to – Sheri Fresonke Harper
Plentitude of Pies – Poetry Contest
Newtonian physics say what goes up must come down
sorry not in the camp of horn tootin, high falutin clowns
justice serves only to rebuke you, not too astute of you
when youre bragging of genetics, a sword in the mouth can cut the lips
can gag you with double edged aplologetics
better watch out for backlash from observant critics,
self righteous attitudes, lukewarm civics
we can't bear the fruition of more bad fruit,
from bad apples with thin skins poisoning the youth
practice what you preach? ever hear of reciprocity for frontal lobotomy, lasiks surgery for radiocarotot omy
making things resentful what you tryin to prove? separation or hostility? Uncle Toms? up the Auntie, you are betting against the youth. Your blind vision seeing the world anew?
Now I know there's 31 flavors so many ways to taste, defeat, scoop up the malaise
don't rub it in the face when you're on top of the heap
make people suck on your cone of invincibility
bet it makes the taste of vanilla? A fetish treat, out of spite when all races got some fine honeys, and miss or Mrs BUTTERSWORTH mm hmm, you statistically will leave.
Leaves a bad taste, in the palate of the nationality. The grapes of wrath's depression made it's impression on all the people, so rinse your mouth, spit, repeat. Don't get drunk on your High C.
Too much high flying, smack talking, mainlining cult of gangsta personality
there aint no union in a phrase like "aint seen nothin like me"
No one is shocked a person of darker pigment can pass a football or do anything they set out to dream with heart in hard work. I think you better stick with a spork, instead of hotknifing that herb, rubbing that lambp of piper sheeptoslaughter jerk.
Catch more bees with honey, plus you can use that plastic spoon to dig your way out of the backstabbery,
but Hollywood Idols love their trophys
especially silver spooned ones, Campbell's Chunky for coddled athletes, who got nothin else to do
but compete for biggest cat in a cradle,
Golden icons on the silver screen.
As I age
the formerly wide chasm between ecstasy and despair
grows narrower,
deeper.
I had not thought this an attribute of maturation,
quite the contrary,
but perhaps an aging crevice,
a thinning fracture
between played-out manic bliss, over-extended harvest,
and depression
nondually faces two extremes
of positive major chords and keys
with negative minor tensions
searching for each other out and in,
become too vocal, focal
looking for tacit evidence
apposition yet lives
on another side
of this darkening
enlightening
divide.
Dr. Jeckyll's confluence
redeeming Mr. Hyde's dissonance
double-binding midway balance
now become a treacherously tight rope
tensioned for resonance and buoyant bounty,
just short of snapping side against side.
Perhaps wisdom is learning how to equitably co-invest
in both wonder and shock,
without becoming paralyzed in-between these boundless awes,
deep wavering yes and please not yet,
not yet,
carving a gorge
deep echoing sacred reverence
and secular irrelevance,
ecstasy with ridiculing despair,
boundless sufficiency without endless satisfaction,
reiterating eternal integrity
not yet surely promised
beyond potential disintegration.
If solitude portends sublime co-operation,
what remains for aching loneliness?
Who and what could become redeemed
through double-binding isolations
within voiceless awe
for wonder indwelling silent shock
of ego loss
deep shadowing eco-gain?
To win to lose,
to lose to win,
co-arising deceptions again.
Deeply resonant depressions;
subliminal,
suboptimizing ego dominations.
Two delineations
with hairline fracturing co-definition?
What would be blissful contentment's promise
without any dissonant content
for comparison?
What are omnipotent spirits
without ego vacuuming materials,
evidence of necessary,
hopefully sufficient,
deep double-binding awe
that we,
even I within we,
have been something,
someone,
someone's,
rather than the far more statistically likely
nothing at all
evermore.
The stars are out and they’re worth considering,
with their glimmering, glittering, shimmering,
like fireworks flickering but more regularly appearing
in the black hole sky.
In Europe there are Ukrainians, Albanians, Scandinavians,
Romanians, Lithuanians and maybe a couple of Canadians,
but out there, in the dark black void-of-space, there are Aliens.
Ok, well, statistically, there are bound to be aliens.
your author has no first-hand knowledge of extraterrestrials
I have galactic questions though—you better believe it. For instance:
If light is the fastest thing in the universe,
why is darkness already there when light arrives?
Could dark-matter be chocolate? and
How can we roll our clocks back if time only moves forward?
This is when having a physicist for a boyfriend is handy
—as well as those times you need a ‘close encounter.’ wink.wink
.
.
A song for this:
Fiction by Yard Act
CanyonsMan/Woman/Chainsaw
Do you know the concern?
"S/he knows just enough
about a through z
to be dangerous."
I am uncomfortably familiar
with this analysis,
a weapon often wielded
from ivory towers
overly influenced by ideology
masquerading as theory
rooted in statistically measured experience,
severed from historical-cultural,
biological-neurological indigenous context.
Even so,
one feeling I am sure of
my own too robust expertise
is Intolerance.
And, now I am discovering
I have chosen to join a community
with a multicultural intention
to embrace,
or at least tolerate,
all souls,
all species,
all living systems
except those deemed too intolerant,
too wounded,
for multicultural health
as a resonant indicator
of economic and political wealth.
We are exclusively intolerant
of intolerance
because we would provide safe sanctuary
to all souls,
especially victims of monoculturing intolerance,
of win/lose economic and political supremacy,
strategy
gamesmanship.
I find a tension here
between unconditional love
and lacking sufficient curiosity
and courage
to discuss shared values
and disvalues
with those too defensive
too hurt
too lost
too conservative
to tolerate intolerably ***** me,
to tolerate the alien Other.
This reactionary intolerance
of intolerant prejudice
bigotry
often straight white male supremacy,
feels like further breeding ground
for misunderstanding,
segregation,
mutual divestment business as usual,
more win/lose devolutionary anger and fear,
more potential violence,
hate,
war
More egocentric privilege
rather than universal ecosystemic love power
Actively hoping to cooperatively uncover win/win
polycultural resolutions
resiliently curious
and courageous
when in the presence of win/lose competitions
intolerant of active hope
for restoring peace
by retiring retributively inflicted punishment
shunning
non-communication
anti-communion
for past sins of intolerance.
My RightBrain disconnected
oft neglected
cerebral gooey problem
is an up front noticing
then forgiving
part of LeftBrain rebalancing
then reconnecting
natural/spiritual
noncompetitive dual-
patriarchal-
capital-
bipartisan-
bipolar-isms
Over riding
striding nondualistic
nonviolent
co-passionate eco/theo/dia-logical
indigenously panentheistic
resonant experience
Detoxes statically
statistically
three dimensional
dominantly predative
systematic
monotheistic disempowering
monopolistic unenbrightening
monoculturally dull and frightening
transcendent
non-fractal prime dimensional
fourth revolutionary
spiraling regenerative
extending health
wealthy logic
Not so sunny
or funny
as inter-religiously green
polyculturally woke
and multiculturally seen
LeftBrain healthy identity resilient
is also
RightBrain wealthy integrity
resonant
Best praxis
dipolar co-arising axis
for spiritual muses
of co-passionate natural music
For regenerating EarthTribal health
is also
resiliently felt safety
wealth
BiCamerally intelligent
therapeutic re-solving integrity
more peacefully elegant
for great therapeutic
win/win co-passionate potential
As found
sadly unwound
in original RightBrain disconnected
and neglected problems,
Prickly deductive wealth
engaging gooey inductive health
newly just now rewound
more elegantly profound.
Wildfires don't recognize borders.
Neither should common sense.
But the nonsense coming out of your leaders' mouths
just proves that they're really dense.
Smoke doesn't come with a passport.
It's not some thing you can just deport.
You see, here's the way it goes.
We can't control the way the wind blows.
Maybe you should clean up your own mess
before blaming others for your distress.
We actually have way more
boreal forest than you.
Yet, statistically, for some reason,
you have more fires than we do.
Your priorities are something
you need to rearrange
because the problem is not Canada;
it's climate change.
What We Should Learn From Dallas
By Franklin Price
7/8/2016
What we should learn from Dallas
And the tragedy we pan,
Policemen killed cold bloodedly
By a sicken minded man.
Took advantage of a protest,
Of killing elsewhere by police;
Despised black on white authority,
If cops are dead it has to cease.
As of now he was the only perp.
There was no larger plan.
He felt he had to do it;
To get rid of the man.
Get rid of perpetrators
Who happen to wear blue
Whose actions are above the law
Don't have to pay for what they do
He was past considering
that cops are also bad and good.
Most protect all people,
And are doing as they should.
They put their lives upon the line;
Each and every day they work.
The bad apples among them
Are statistically a quirk
The media and politicians
Take sides to drive along
The minority views of both sides;
This direction is so wrong.
Reporting, on these deeds
At best is very mixed
Not only deeds, but also reasons
Are what's wrong and must be fixed.
If I were a guy
I’d actually enjoy wearing a suit and tie,
I wouldn’t feel uneasy about walking down a late night city street
And high heels would become obsolete,
I’d sleep an extra hour every day, never worrying about running late
For id have no more makeup and hair to prepare when I had to wake
I’d be pleasant four weeks out of the month instead of just two
With No more cramps and mood swings to attend too
Id saves money on tampons, Midol and all the many types of underwear
It would be lovely to take off my shirt on a beach and have no one care
I’d adore my mate, basically worship her, while being extremely nice
For I no longer would have to worry about births physical price
If I gained a few pounds I sure wouldn’t mind
Plenty of overweight men have women who are mighty fine
Statistically speaking I’d have a better chance at making more money
Even if I was an egotistically dummy
I would get to stand up when I pee
This would come in handy constantly!
No more worrying about a lack of tissues or dirty toilet seats,
I’d give my Sergeant a little shake with no concerns about a leak
Let’s not forget all the hours spent on shaving
That would be another time consuming cost in which id be saving
My friends would not complain wine and gossip constantly
If a fight broke out id forgive them and we would all just let it be
Going camping and fishing would be easier for grooming would be so simple
I wouldn’t freak out if I had a sudden pimple
Plastic surgery would not be a thought that ever ran through my mind
For the older a man gets the sexier and more refined
Wrinkles and gray hair makes him look sophisticated
Women see these features and become completely jaded
I'd rarely have to be bothered with perverts at any store,
The simplicity of my beautiful life I would be thankful for.
P.S However, I Love being a woman...
You meet them with sparks and a cinematic kiss..
All butterflies screaming, “It doesn’t get better than this!”
You map out forever by date number three..
“I’ve found the one”.. statistically.
The honeymoon phase is a glittering high..
Where flaws wear disguises and red flags wave shy.
They chew kinda loud? Oh, that’s cute, what a trait..
Six months down the track.. “I can’t stand how they ate.”
You post all the selfies, the captions, the glow..
Couple goals for the world’s little facebook show.
But behind all the filters and highlight parade..
There’s cracks in the plaster love carefully made.
Because love isn’t candles and wine every night..
It’s bills, moods, and choosing to not start a fight.
It’s laundry and silence and days that feel flat..
And learning to sit in the weight of all that.
But somewhere along when the magic feels thin..
Instead of rebuilding, we pack it all in.
“Maybe there’s better,” we quietly think..
While pouring wasted years down the emotional sink.
We swipe and we wander, convinced we’ll upgrade..
Like love is a product that slightly delayed.
But every new soulmate starts just like the last..
With fireworks destined to fade just as fast.
So here’s to the lovers who bail when it’s tough.
Who chase the feeling but not the real stuff.
Who fall for the start but not stay for the mess..
Congratulations.. you’ve just met your future Ex.