Long Stoical Poems
Long Stoical Poems. Below are the most popular long Stoical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stoical poems by poem length and keyword.
To dwell in an apathetic realm between darkness and light,
not caring if people hear or listen to me, would be a plight.
Being stoical, taciturn and indifferent to pain or pleasure,
when emotions are unsung for there are none to measure.
Being aloof could never be my long-term objective.
I'm not passive about things, but it's a stoic's perspective,
that being neutral prevents them from becoming fraught
over things they deem inconsequential, and care naught.
They wear the blank expression of a cow ruminating cud.
Though thorns may stab their flesh, tears will never flood.
In silence they suffer pain as if their heart has been ablated,
accepting apathy as the destiny with which they were fated.
Let others bow and pray to stone images of gods they make.
Fools, who do not know sentiments can cause heartache.
Stoicism is a concept, the accepted philosophy of the mind.
They find tranquility when indifferent, but I am not that kind.
Apatheia is the goal, detachment from pleasured passion,
but I'd not be stoic if love is an emotion I'd have to ration.
Tears well in my eyes when whispered words of love I hear.
I'm not stoical by nature. There are too many things I revere.
At the entrance of evening, the melting sun slowly drips
over the treetop horizon;
Beckoning the moon to peek through the opaque shades
As lazy winds play tag with the heated night.
The staccato symphony of horny crickets pervade the scene
Piercing the stoical still silence with melodic sounds.
Weighed eyes and muffled ears grow weary…
Retreating the scene and its sounds.
Sleep, the stranger of the day, threatens familiarity:
None can avoid her acquaintance.
Unable to complete, I slip into the twilight of dreams
Knowing not if I shall greet tomorrow here.
God willing and Earth’s water baptize my eyes, maybe,
Just maybe, I will rise to fight another day.
So in this twilight dim, I pray my childhood
Prayer to Him:
" Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake;
I pray the Lord my soul to take."
Cirque Calder Family
Lonely this
My restless paint blobs
Absorbing precious air
Risking dehydration
Moisture deprived patience
Waiting atop my platform
Resting precariously upon cut wire
And tapered metal sheets
Awaiting tomorrow's work load
Master catnaps
Sprawled beside more wire and metal sheets
While real cat
Possesses Master's bedding
Her throne
Her mattress
All around
Bright colors crave daybreak
As studio fans drift their meager air
Turning delicate shapes meekly
Their kinetic fulcrums never idle
Other imaginings stand stoical in ring two
While ring one and three
Await trapeze figures
String ropes adrift
Large nocturnal mobiles
Idle patiently
Reflecting unfinished Big Top pieces
Table and floor installations
Galleries waiting
Catching moonlight
Wall doodles and sketches
Tarry further inspiration
Like my inspiration
The indubitable smell
Texture
Emotion
Only my paint dapples
Smeared on his faithful
Monsieur Palette can provide
Of course
Beside me
Always beside me
Tireless Pinch Nose
Holds I'm fay
Tough guy
Pliered twisting and crunching
Bent on convincing me
We're just tools
Says he
Not so
Says the Master
You're part of family
And so it goes
Brief respites
While imagination
Envisions its next
To be
Illusory reality
Remaining child-like
Understanding little of rest
A catnap?
Maybe
THE *****'S ANNALS:
At the table of verdict was the ***** seated;
Breathing his last before senteced to prison.
Couldn't hide the state of how's feeling;
'Dead zone', he exclaimed as he's highly fronzen.
Every heart of his loved ones really saddened.
Friends and families connived to pull him down for no reason;
Grinded his excellence and burnt down his dignity,
Holistically because he's always winning.
Intricated him to sign a stoical deal they schemed.
Jilt they served him after achieving what they aimed;
Knocked him out from the working team.
Later in years, he's now freed.
Mighty God's replaced all that he lost.
Now his traitors are jailed after right-time's talked.
Openly, he's vindicated in the law court.
Praise and adoration he sings unto God.
Quadrifurcating of this issue's solely to be thonged;
Raised completely for'll to learn not to give out a trust.
Same way staying wise when you've been dass.
Troubles in the suspooks house,
Unable to understand the *****'s acts.
Voice of the visionary's highlighted with an active mind.
Whence, the studious scholar says 'it's a fact'.
X factor positively influencing the *****'s heart.
Yeah, his emancipation is strong and intact.
Zone of proximal development, the *****'s annals abstract.
Pleasantly radiant, tranquil weather
blue skies & gently benevolent wind
a shimmering gift from Mother Nature
(a smoldering summer lurking in the distance)
Compulsively tracking an unquantifiable self:
steps, exercise minutes, calories, symptoms, etc.
stoical statistics dutifully logged into tired devices
(a futile endeavor to control life)
Cacophonous news oozing from the Malverse
menacing memes ricochet around the planet
updates of a horrid war threatening to devour the world
(a looming nuclear apocalypse)
Occupying space in old unedifying edifices gathering dark energy
running out the accelerating clock as civilization nears its breaking point
desperately seeking diversion while doling out doggerel
(a quest to imbue a desolate existence with meaning)
How long before it all falls apart?
The Mighty Lion
The Mighty Lion, standing proud.
All things beneath him; nothing as loud,
As the roar of this beast, in the middle of the night.
There is no other creature for him to fear
And he has wisdom behind those amber eyes.
So stoical, he stands there;
As he is observing his plain.
All others are running around so quickly,
Whilst he remains unruffled,
With his courageous heart,
Behind his mighty mane.
No challenger approaching; no chance of defeat.
The Mighty Lion stands proudly,
As he rules over all that which he can see.
From the birds in the sky,
Down to the insects beneath his feet.
The Mighty Lion rules with razor-sharp claws
And he can end any fight by simply showing his teeth.
His counsel is sought, to settle neighbourhood disputes.
His decision is final; his words speak only truth.
His eyes can see through liars, as he gains knowledge from his Pride.
He stands there, remarkable, in his domain
And his view is always right.
He knows all of the stories that spread around the group.
He has an army of animals on his side.
They are under his leadership.
They are his motley crew.
The Mighty Lion stands apart,
For he is truly their King.
He has earned his place at the Head of the Pride,
But still, he walks alongside all others
And he fears nothing.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
When I hear the sound of "Taps" on Memorial Day,
Or hear that plaintive tune when a veteran is laid away,
I try to remain stoical but am easily moved to tears,
As I recall the sacrifices of heroes throughout the years.
Valiant men suffered hardships at their posts in Valley Forge,
To win our nation's independence from resolute King George.
Stalwart men died in the War of 1812 and at the historic Alamo,
To sustain our precious freedoms - so much to them we owe!
The Civil War upheld the Union, tho' much needless blood was shed.
'Twas during that awful conflict that "Taps" was born, 'tis said.
Since its genesis, its haunting tune is yet heard o'er the graves,
Of heroes who sacrificed their all to ensure our flag yet waves!
They served with honor to defend the liberties we hold dear,
And to preserve dignity for others around this troubled sphere,
Giving all on the Altar of Honor for mankind's follies to atone.
Alas, in return, all they merited was a simple marble stone.
Sadly, most every day we hear that melancholy strain,
Echoing across the nation from hills and verdant plain.
As a grateful nation gathers to bid each a sad goodbye,
Parents, spouses and children are left to wonder - WHY!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
I love to be alone,
even if the nature is out of tone.
But why do you want to be alone??
By dint of the problems,you created on your own.
Some great personalities have said-
"Theories you believe are facts and facts we disbelieve are theories"
It was my ostentatious attitude that got me trapped,
I am neither puissant nor stoical,thats why i got slapped!!
I was asked to cultivate detachment,
coz' it will affect the natural flow of my life.
But why its me everytime??
Its the charge of my felony and crime!!
Sometimes I feel like bitter and twisted
when the clouds of happiness just gets drifted.
How can you forget a person with whom you are so attached,
so its difficult to cultivate detachment,being attached.
Form:
Those who live an artistic life are genuinely soul-aware.
It is as vital to the human spirit as is the air.
Artistry, sculpture, and landscape design are creative,
That's around spiritedness that pulls and is probative.
Bury my heart in the wounded knee where even harm,
Battered gallows have histrionic gems and charm.
A ghost wrapped in a thicket of death rug toss,
Eigenvector fade marble eye fabric dross
Slap my lips with a cudgel, ruminant, spewing mere,
Apathetic brows cursed with sin shudder with fear.
I clasped my hands, viewing fake hooks and blows spare,
I may sleep freely on the rope or walk as drifting in the air.
Free from obscure sights, free from guilt,
I translated the chain that bound my spilt.
Each time the human spirit is apathetically ground,
Somewhere in the cold, an answer can be found.
Victim of its erratic walking and constant cold,
Lost and bastard, inquiries are permitted to be trolled.
You stay stoical and equanimous under a dearth,
You, the human spirit, are the nucleus of the Earth.
Yet, I took this mystery with me to the grave,
As of now, please note that I crave to rave.
I believe that fair things will win out for people,
When I dared not be the one to be motile.
Milk is insufficient for acts of human kindness.
The stomach can churn and be mindless.
Milk and whey used to derive cheddar or skim milk.
There are various choices for insights ilk.
Written: September 17, 2022
The Human Spirit Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose