Long Stoicism Poems
Long Stoicism Poems. Below are the most popular long Stoicism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stoicism poems by poem length and keyword.
They Say, "Your destiny may not always be what you dreamt of".
I've always struggled to accept that, Maybe because I've been stubborn believer in stoicism, In the idea that a person can write his own destiny with discipline, Intent & Relentless efforts.
But then comes the inevitable question,
"If I believed that so deeply then why wasn't I able to Destine Myself to NLS/NALSAR Or any top 5 for that matter?
Why did I make peace with CNLU Patna?
Answer sits in blurred multifaceted dilemmas of efforts, Distractions, fate & Fairness.
Some answers I do know infact but they are really hard to accept,
Some are burried deeper in the question of fate and fairness
I may never fully know that was it the ink that spilled writing my destiny or it was the pen that dried out at the wrong moment.
But atleast I realised that life isn't a page but a book and now I have flipped the page again from CLAT (1126) to AILET (674) to CBSE Boards (90.8%)
It took me time to realise it's always reading the book even after the page doesn't turn out the way you imagined.
You ran from me, I told you not to. And you know what happens when you disobey me.
But it hurts. I don’t want to hurt anymore.
I told you it will stop hurting.
When?
What did I tell you about asking so many questions?
But–
No excuses.
And so it continues.
Four years of hurting and it never stops hurting,
He lies,
And his lies turn to mine,
Lying to my parents,
To my sister,
To my friends,
That everything is
Fine.
I paint a smile on my face even though
I can feel him
Everywhere.
The shower burns,
But the stinging feels like relief,
Like a semblance of understanding,
Of the pain.
The silence gets the best of me,
And I distance myself from everyone,
I convince myself it’s better for them,
Less they know,
Less they’ll worry,
Less it will hurt when I disappear.
I tape my eyes open,
Afraid to shut them,
Afraid to see him again,
Feel him again,
Be his again.
I scream with no sound,
I cry with no tears,
I thrash with no movement.
Stoicism has become my savior,
A desperate attempt at survival,
With a flat disposition,
No one can see the truth.
This is the debris,
This is what can stay,
This is what may remain
When he took my autonomy away.
I’m not some “survivor.”
There is no recompense
For all the hate that’s encompassed me,
I’m taking back what’s left.
I absconded with reader rabbit (Peter), to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day
Ah Sheik Hog - Ho!
One "FAKE" Wingman Flying
Via O'hare To Dublin y'know
Cuz, The Leprechaun within
me, seeks young sprig poe
whet tick friend in toto,
though nowhere to be found despite search team
loudly trumpeting thru depleting fresh air
supply terrestrially polluted atmosphere,
asper the unknown whereabouts, regarding
said royally titled quasi legally inherited bare
naked lady loving bastard oven heated affair
son last seen donning Herringbone Wool headwear
supplemented by Irish merrino wool sweater
and custom made Hemp (smoking hot) pants
informing observer with seedy, faux debonair,
and pseudo (reed "FAKE") suave cultured couture
clothing automatically camouflaging to disappear
without a trace, thee alluded to rival to the throne
(Irish to keep ye in the dark) like chocolate eclair
secret recipe (one takes to the grave), unless held
at gunpoint by bonafide Machiavellian consigliere
ruthless if necessary forcing captive to declare
high fidelity, indemnity, loyalty, et cetera to a
life of lawlessness adopting anonymous incognito
guise accepting bewig noggin with long knotty hair
tattoo skin with "FAKE" scars to accentuate fear
factor accepting (blood bonded) brotherhood till
death do you part loot, pillage, vandalize, et cetera
in a blitzkrieg effort (albeit violently) to repair
evenly distribute disparity between 1% and 99%
grassroots uprising (peopled with migrants) spear
writ ting their exploitation at the (Taj Mahal) bear
sized paws swiping at susceptibility, vulnerability,
inequality, et cetera series of unfortunate events
decreed, instilled, ordained clamped like ironware
shackling one generation after another, an outright
outdated, on par as anachronism, feudalism, stoicism
where stark difference between rich and poor unfair,
especially, cus the latter labor sweat of their brow,
which backbreaking toil essentially endows wealthy
at expense of grunt work signalling ominous nightmare.
"The story of our life is like a leaf-
Bring beauty to this world, however brief."
Quote by _Daniel Turner, Poet
I live my life with enduring unflappable patience and calmness. I have a
code of morals, and rules of conduct that give me strength to handle all
adversity. Time has given me a mentality of a survivor, there is a force
burning within me. I face each situation with logic and integrity. I know
my limitations. Truth is a moral that I hold high and my ethical beliefs are
never diminished, yet, I can look at long held traditions and question them.
I have walked with grief
shed tears that fill oceans blue~
compassion I give
I have found my tranquility, serenity, and peacefulness and a wisdom to
know right and wrong, poise, grace, virtue and respect. When filled with
hesitation, and apprehension I go to my core and faith and I am lifted high.
I send weakness away and thus I am liberated and free to be me. I do not
seek affluence, opulence, or worldly riches. My treasure is waiting above.
At the end of my life, my stoicism will grant me entrance through those
golden gates. But, in the here and now, I am a faithful friend, reliable and
honest to all. I will give you my empathy, encouragement, and my love.
from dark pits I crawled
sorrow my chain and anchor ~
now fly free and strong
I absconded with reader rabbit (Peter), to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day
Ah Sheik Hog - Ho!
One "FAKE" Wingman
think Monty Python's
Flying Circus skittering
on thin ice - Skidamarink
a dink, a dink...
hither and yon, to and fro
Via O'hare To Dublin y'know
Cuz, The Leprechaun within
me, no spring chicken bro,
nevertheless oz offer friendship in toto
good day to thee with cheerful adieu.
Though nowhere to be found despite search team
loudly trumpeting thru depleting fresh air
supply terrestrially polluted atmosphere,
asper the unknown whereabouts, regarding
said royally titled quasi legally inherited bare
naked lady loving bastard oven heated affair
son last seen donning Herringbone Wool headwear
supplemented by Irish merrino wool sweater
and custom made Hemp (smoking hot) pants
informing observer with seedy, faux debonair,
and pseudo (reed "FAKE") suave cultured couture
clothing automatically camouflaging to disappear
without a trace, thee alluded to rival to the throne
(Irish to keep ye in the dark) like chocolate eclair
secret recipe (one takes to the grave), unless held
at gunpoint by bonafide Machiavellian consigliere
ruthless if necessary forcing captive to declare
high fidelity, indemnity, loyalty, et cetera to a
life of lawlessness adopting anonymous incognito
guise accepting bewig noggin with long knotty hair
tattoo skin with "FAKE" scars to accentuate fear
factor accepting (blood bonded) brotherhood till
death do you part loot, pillage, vandalize, et cetera
in a blitzkrieg effort (albeit violently) to repair
evenly distribute disparity between 1% and 99%
grassroots uprising (peopled with migrants) spear
writ ting their exploitation at the (Taj Mahal) bear
sized paws swiping at susceptibility, vulnerability,
inequality, et cetera series of unfortunate events
decreed, instilled, ordained clamped like ironware
shackling one generation after another, an outright
outdated, on par as anachronism, feudalism, stoicism
where stark difference between rich and poor unfair,
especially, cus the latter labor sweat of their brow,
which backbreaking toil essentially endows wealthy
at expense of grunt work signalling ominous nightmare.
The simple recipe for a healthier life
a Stoic view unaffected by impulses or emotions
The impressions and interpretation of the world
Bury any negative thoughts
accept your responsibility for your own emotions
What you can't control,
doesn't must be worrisome
What you do today, can do tomorrow brighter
Anyone can acquire
the keys of wisdom of the Stoics
through making oneself a positive person
Convictions, attitudes and hopeless habits
a fruitful and educational process
Finding the correct focus, life is full of surprises
You yourself are the forge of your own success
The inside and the outside changes
you gives of yourself, embrace and comfort
A wisdom of life for our time where uncertainty abounds
Explore the possibilities that others may not have seen
The day is long and the journey far
And here, you can't be if there is no star.
So patiently on Him I hope,
While with stoicism I keep pulling the rope.
It matters not If lad or lass
If on a bed or manger full of grass
Be the first place u behold,
With an open arms, you I would hold.
With watery eyes, your cheeks I would fondle
Savouring your first cries, wrapped in a bundle.
But for now let Daddy hussle
For in this place there is no time to huddle.
And though the stakes for me are low,
My smile falters not, while my aces I show.
Happily with me you shall rest
For I promise, you won't suck a tattooed breast.
So your mama I still fervently search
Inspecting the town hall and the church
Checking from the head to the feet
For we both deserve a wonderful tit.
And while the wait may drag on
Bear with Daddy, and hold on.
© Temajung Michael T
It’s summer, hurry up. Let’s not waste a minute.
Where’s the sunscreen, where’s the party, who’s knutching who?
The sky was crowded with bright, balloon stratocumulus clouds, hanging mountain-like in the air. How can something that big just float in the sky? Either the Greek gods are holding them up, or they defy reason.
So, we’re in Athens, Georgia and apparently, Lisa, Kim, Bili, Leong and I are ‘too much club.’
We’re insuperable - too rowdy, too loud, too late, we laugh too much, hand-ringing about haircuts, shoes and romantic connections.
Sorry, if we’re not co-signing for everyone’s existential angst - we’re 5 girls on vacation.
Well, except Leong, she’s just joined us - fresh from Macau China. She’s got dark-takes on the world situation, saying things like, “enjoy it while it lasts.” I tried to explain the evils of nihilism - how once you let nihilism materialize, it’s a fog that swallows you.
If you read the news - which is geared toward the grisly - it’s only going to tap you out. There are too many issues. Our group is a mix - a salad of feminism, environmentalism, stoicism - we’re ism’d out. We’re Asian, black, southern, liberal and communist, woke and anti-woke - what we DO have in common is - we’re summarized.
‘Summarized’ Americans, swim all day and sit by the pool all night talking and catching up. We also water ski, shop, roller sk8te, play frisbee golf, go out to dinner and pull-out-the-stops for a party now and then.
Some nights, we stream ‘Suits’ and make emo-boy sexualized comments when Meghan comes on - but we like her - more or less - let her take her shot. Marry that complicated princeling and let every moment be drama.
Since the school years measured in work, let’s measure summer by fun and silly drama.
Dillio?
.
.
A song for this:
Fools Rush In (Where Angels Fear To Tread) by Bow Wow Wow
Family Affair (feat. Alan Scaffardi) by Papik
.
.knutching = kissing
dillio = deal
Webster’s: Insuperable: impossible to control
In silence, when darkness
envelopes the sky,
unlock the glass windows
of your mind,
forgive the stars
that veiled their silver,
for it is in times of
confusion and calamity,
we paint our own
rose wine twilight,
that scintillates beyond
fleeting fog of time and sanity.
Sometimes, we forget to
appreciate nature’s performance,
as life seems to be a
black gold theatre of
manipulative mantras.
We rise as actors dressed in
dancing stripes of integrity,
pirouetting like a merry-go-round
of lights, guiding our destiny.
Where melodramatic monologues
of melancholic laws
remain tucked away deep,
beneath a charismatic mattress
woven across turquoise trampolines,
of tranquil testaments and tiger lilies.
But as the curtains swiftly fly
into thin crimson layers of air,
trust the silence, for when
everything’s louder,
we find contentment in
compassionate places we encounter,
sowing seeds of love, whilst we hope;
brushing off negativity’s echoes,
to clutch onto inner healing’s rope,
and surrender to its throes.
So allow the invisible wand
of your soul that sears
to sprinkle pixie-dust upon
the backbone of cascading fears,
let your heartbeat ring
and strum every
metallic string of faith,
whilst thin veins in
throbbing waves hum,
“Kindness is the healing
stone and stoicism is the key of life”
Drink your bitter tears
From a goblet of fire.
Transcend your longing
For resilient pearls
Exploding along your
Jaded Path.
Let wonder feed rhythm
Stirring your turbulence.
For if ever there were a
More encumbered stream,
Savor tomorrow.
I tremble from your
Thunderous voice.
Concave dreams hold me
No more.
For I'm restless. I can't pass through
An eye of a needle, but I hope to
Climb His stairway to heaven.
When fire rises from earthen
Vessels, my longing channels
Inner strength to feed my woes.
Bestowed upon my heart are
Remnants left by howling wolves.
They fester their cries to a moaning
Moon.
Dream away chantilly lace when
Cognizant seeds of sorrow envelope
Your tired soul.
I'm humbled by your untimely arrival.
For to renounce all frailties invites
Stoicism.
Shiver in mystic waters,
And walk towards enlightenment.
However lost your spirit becomes,
Always go with the Way.
There is no sunlight upon my face
When jagged knives cut through
Me.
For encumberment entails salty tears
Burning along sated flesh.
Where is my sunrise to welcome
Poignancy?
How can I belling you when
All has a price, but no value
To bend.