Long Syncing Poems
Long Syncing Poems. Below are the most popular long Syncing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Syncing poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: July 6th, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
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Line of inquiry: fact or fiction? what does it mean in actuality, to be touched by spirit?
Syncing retains aurous, aglow affection,
Restore it, and be sure it fosters motivation.
Mountain spiral dynamics and wet reflection,
Glancing up at the stars, for ormolu connection.
My visceral Gaia is where you now dwell,
I am in the wisteria vicinity of your sacrum.
Given karma in our minds, let it beat as a drum,
Severed up and down, then split into shells.
Both male and female, Earth and heaven,
Oh, the saga of time we bore this burden.
Reinstate this vivisection, and complete the link!
Pouring myself into you is just what I think.
Tonight, I drew your kundalini awakening action,
Coronal crown does not lend to construction.
With this eye, I grasp the alabaster overcome,
The following day, as if it had already come.
A holy snake acts as a trumpet to our ears,
He wrangled himself into a marmoreal tip.
We also received our Pashmina chemistry strip,
What have we grown, crafting musical fears?
The water spring will quench my thirst,
I will recall the soliloquy, amethyst, of past burst.
The Sanskrit plexus will be toggled then,
With sapphire sepals pouring from heaven.
I will join the marigold glory with love,
Ancient Phoenix unleashes dark torques.
That it will uncover its solivagant way to storks,
Bringing seraphic peace to mankind from above.
Thomas stirred the tasteless,
clear liquid into his wife's
evening chamomile tea.
He smiled, thinking of the life
he imagined with another woman
he met in a stripper night club.
By midnight, Eleanor was gone,
her sudden passing blamed on
natural causes.
The grieving husband played
his part perfectly, weeping at
the funeral.
Two weeks later, he prepared
to sell the estate and move
away.
An insurance investigator
arrived, asking to see
Eleanor's final medical
records.
Thomas confidently handed
over the paperwork, certain
his tracks were completely
clean.
He failed to notice the smart
watch still syncing on her
bedside table.
Its biometric sensors
recorded the precise
moment her vitals fluctuated
unnaturally.
The digital timeline provided
the evidence needed to end his dreams of freedom in handcuffs.
Wisdom scriptures swell through every harmonic creed
each deed spoken across culture's regenerations,
singing multicolored psalms of Paradise
Earth rebirth again through anthro-chosen death
of stale humans only need apply
to and for heaven's ridiculously opened gate
Radically sensuous ecojustice
sung by crickets
feeding songbirds
flying on and on back toward sunrise
sweeping across EarthMother's original baptism
in SunFather's fertile rays of godlight.
Integrity's incarnate presence
without monocultural apartheid
or even anthrocentrism
Messianic light by which all have come,
by which all return,
no creature comes through Father Time
on Virgin Mother Earth
but through and with each co-empathic Other.
Bodhisattva nature mystics
learning to plant and harvest souls, Earth's seeds
of holy holonic consilience,
synergy,
authentic agape I AM
this integral erotic EarthTribe WE ARE
fathers and mothers of rich multicultural birth traditions
evolving revolving time measured light
remade in humane power's uncontrolling image
Re-creation re-imaging
re-connecting
re-syncing
re-ligioning
re-generating imagined
time's revolving warm
nutritious
nurturing
spacious light
engorging timeless night.
Puritan politics of mono-theistic unsensuality,
like cold mono-polistic economics,
is either consiliently enlightened
or tyrannically disempowering
EarthMother sacred
or monochromatic anthro-privileged hubris
uprooting polypathic unconditional trust
exploiting fear of monoculturally elite dinosaurs
devouring spiritual paths toward more complex
synergetic
polymathic win/win elegance
Political bodies engaging resonant peace
restoring economic EarthJustice outcomes
for CoMessianic depolarizing rights
to regenerative polytheistic practices
enlightening timeless past
empowering spacious futures
below/above
inside/outside
immanent/transcendent
inhaling/exhaling
en/pantheistic practice.
The deep fake is running wild in the street, messing with the people you meet, it has turned my voice into a money making machine and exposed my well thought out dreams. Some things that I did not want you to know is used as the main highlight for the morning show and something that I whisper in my dreams are echoed in the middle of the street, the deep fake is all around and my natural voice is nowhere to be found; artificial intelligence has invaded the town.
They have dubbed the mad-man voice to sound like you, and when you speak another voice is speaking over you, the lip-syncing, is what is being done to impersonate the one that carry the dangerous gun.
There are several versions of you on the screen and no one can tell which one is you, the voices sound same but the faces are different and the smiles and the hairstyles gives it away. Sometimes you appears walking without shoe and it is hard to tell who is who, AI has clone you to wear socks and shoes and I know that’s not you.
Come let me show you the proof, the original house has no roof but AI has change it into a luxurious dwelling with gold and silver awning smiling in the middle of the morning.
It has windows that look like castles and gardens that look like paradise, the image you see on the screen is a deep fake and you must visit that place in the middle of the day and your imagination will never lead you astray.
The deep fake has turned the meeting into a circus creating bodies that does not exist and voices that running out of breath oh what deception that has risen from the pit of hell, everyone from France is waking around with straight nose that has no bridge and perfect lips that are ready to sing, is the kind that I have never seen and they only appear in my dream.
Beware of the deep fake in your school for Santa clause is coming soon; you must know the real from the unreal and separate facts from fiction. The deep fake is running errands in town.
It started out with one good boy,
A prehistoric, funny, little plushie toy,
His name was Gary, quite refined,
A murder floof with teeth aligned (yikes)!
They dressed him up in bowtie class,
He promptly bit a Swissman's—ahem—pass ;)
And now the Earth is not the same,
We built a world… that he reclaimed.
Howl if you love me!
Snarl if you care!
Growl like a Gary with your hindquarters bare!
The world went to wolves, and we let it go,
Now its Soup Poets in the Dire Wolf Show!
They brought back dodos, mammoths too,
But nothing howls like a biting Pack Review.
Dire wolves with influencer flair,
Lip-syncing threats on YOWL-AIR.
They run the banks, they run the press,
They run in packs—and rarely dress.
We tried to leash, to charm, to clone—
They turned Wall Street into a bone.
(I'm imagining a drum solo using two bones)
Howl if you love me!
Sniff if you're near!
Mark your emotions on the political sphere!
The humans had time, but they chose delay,
Now Brenda the Alpha makes laws her way!
One by one, the zoos rebelled,
The turnstiles snapped, the keepers yelled—
But Gary? He clung to a moose in a vest
And headbutted traffic through Megalocrat West.
He whispered low: “You had your chance.”
Then taught the wolves interpretive dance.
We watched them twirl in fur and fang,
While Congress chewed on squeaky slang.
Howl if you love me!
Clap with your claws!
It's hard to find rhythm in a world without laws!
A Poetry Soup contest in a canine parade,
Where the past came back, and it sure won’t fade!
So tie your fate in a dog-shaped bow,
This ain't a drill—it’s the Dire Wolf Show!
(outro)
We asked Sam Dumpty for his report,
Yeah, was kinda surprised by his retort:
Gary.. um, owooooo?
He’s still out there…
might be writing s soupie
on discarded pizza boxes.
Waiting...
I looked in America’s mirror tonight
What I saw was only left or right
Reflecting a nation irreparably divided
With no desire to again be united
I longed for a touch, just a touch, of awareness
An admission that ‘I might once have been wrong’
What I witnessed was unbridled aggression
From each side, a fiercely combative song
I searched for a hint of humility
A confession: ‘Maybe I don’t have all the solutions’
What I beheld was feisty defiance
Candidates lip-syncing dubious science
I hungered for clear answers to questions
A yes that’s a yes, a no that’s a no
What I heard was ‘MY agenda is what to invest in’
Implied was ‘To hell’s where YOUR question can go…’
I looked in America’s mirror tonight
silently praying for some kind of light
What looked back was darkling belligerence
accompanied by saber-rattling dissonance
SAy(/)
Say something; anything,
to the stranger's son,
syntax slipping, circuits clipping,
sentences come undone.
Cackle, crackle, curse the static, ,
chaos chews through the line,
light.life.aflame
error
nothing syncing into time.
I was meant for more than this,
or so the orbit hums.
I'm just a daughter circling a promise
that never fully comes.
My processor spits in fragments,
phrases falling out of place,
sunlight stutters mid-July glitch.
language fractures into space.
And there, so still, so structured,
stands the stranger's son,
drinking shadows slow and steady,
like the dark and he are one.
No misfire, no distortion.
He calls it calm, I call it silence,
he calls it form, I fake.
butter glass half-burnt signal dontaligndontalign.
(see? it happens every fvcking time.)
He is not a different being,
just a version I outrun..?
or the shape I'd take if chaos
stopped all at once.
In a blue sky
The sun was crying all the day
Didn't say why
Felt it hadn't had to say
Cause all the players in the play
With forgotten parts have walked off stage
Mumbling tongue twister tangled lines
Like lost Edenic fruitless vines
Lip syncing someone else's words
To where emotions become absurd
Happy madness
The path you walk is a waterway
It's a tad past
The time to roll the stone away
But you may see them with a frown
Like a painted circus clown
Facial features frozen in grotesque
Purist form so statuesque
In an eternal gaze to stare
At a lock of her serpent hair
But I've been waitin so long
So long, I've been waitin
Quite the showman
A solar eclipse cast on cue
End time's omen
Equals seats for one hell of a view
Yet you may see them with a smile
That they borrowed for awhile
But like plastic flowers on the lawn
Care not that Spring has passed on
For everyone all is the same
Stagnated without change
But I've been waitin so long
So long, I've been waitin
But I've been waitin so long
So long, I've been waitin
Yeah
do you dress with shapeshifting dreams,
when the blanket of eyes unfolds
reeling... a realm of myriad realism ~
in echoes from elements of delusive domains?
there's a veil so thin, enlightened between ~
t r u t h and l i e ... f i r e and a s h ,
and must you lose your eloquent elixir
to inhale their dusty deceptions?
when we only need to choose not to conform,
and resolve to realise that every lifeline
is a palpitating paradox in this musical mosaic ,
~ of possibilities and promised uncertainties ...
life is what is faithfully lived ~
through a lavender lens made for not two,
but one, unseen in the metaphysical ~
yet felt closely in the inner sanctum,
resting within the runes of the lotus chakra
and bridging the balance between
the bleak blankness breathing in space ~
where memories flow distant
in the marrow of astral mantras ...
as everything fades from this funeral flame
I will not be lost, but found... a homesick soul,
the searcher of silence, that sleeps within
the spirit of the One, my divine sculptor ~
in his purified prayers, desires lose their form,
when the seventh heaven rehearses
a ray of selfless spiritualism amongst the stars
syncing salvation as a rhythm ~ a crystal pulse,
flickering through the illusion of solidity ...
We lean back in the ride sunset melting on her skin like liquid gold
Chrome glides slow and the whole boulevard watches our story unfold
Her hand on my arm turns the city’s hard edges into something controlled
Bass hums like a heartbeat syncing with the secrets we’ve never told
Palms sway overhead brushing the sky like a dream for the night to uphold
Grill smoke drifts through the breeze wrapping us both in memories old
She laughs and the block feels lighter with even the shadows consoled
The ride dips gentle hydros bowing and her soft smile says she’s sold
I look her way and every struggle I’ve carried loosens its hold
We cruise on two souls leaning close in a world we quietly mold