Long Theory Poems
Long Theory Poems. Below are the most popular long Theory by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Theory poems by poem length and keyword.
When you are at a breaking point
It is when you acquire the source of your strength
That you never knew existed
When you are humiliated to the core
It is when you assess your well being
That you have taken for granted
Makes you question your purpose
Expand your horizons
Do not limit your theory
Cultivate your thinking
Do not be expose to gossip
Grow your growth
Do not be in stagnation
The purpose is clarified
When you have made it
It is when you realise what type of character you possess
That distinguish the kind of person you are
When you relinquish all the negativity
It is when you can absorb the positivity
That would lead you to success
Makes you relieved, doesn't it
Octaves, not slaves is the way it went.
220s, 440s and then in the vent,
880 was heard and the light was bent.
They left a CC on the note you just spent.
155, we are still alive in the day and the light,
we made it quite right. To be heard.
Gave IT, to a group we love to call our nerds.
They built a machine on quarters and thirds.
But forgot the heart and the song for the birds.
You used a plan that was left long ago.
With secrets incomplete so the boat didn't go.
How long has it been? mon ami , dos amigo?
We're invited to the Pen, the Dragon said so.
You used a plan that was left long ago.
With secrets incomplete so the boat didn't go.
And so a wake, is the way we'll know.
Setting it write, so it's right at the light.
My hand our pen and a sound.called Knight.
The AND on the compass switched a hand
and it knew... a little loop in the thread
should see us through. Little sew in the
seeds under skies of blue. Time to fix
the seas with a knowledge renewed.
Time to buzz with the bees,
hear our echoing Trees, now gone.
But their song...
I can hear in the air as it sings along.hear
A sound there. Love allowed.
Be Aware.
... to be. has always. continued.
Form:
Black folk kept in sad condition
By owners without contrition.
What to do, what to do?
Wage war for emancipation
And forge a fresh slave-free nation.
The Forrest-Byrd Klan and Jim Crow
Surely are the ones you should stow –
What to do, what to do?
They rule and oppress your city
Blame them not ones who set you free!
Martin loved character content
With black and white talents lent
What to do, what to do?
Stevie and Paul in unity
Played in sweet keyboard harmony.
Smooth Barack cooed high in A sharp
As Hillary lowed in B flat
What to do, what to do?
So white folks, none playing a harp,
Chose the black, how racist was that?
Oppressed rainbow coalition -
All races rate full admission.
What to do, what to do?
Name trophy oppressor maestros
Amin, Mao, Adolf, and Castro.
Critical race theory, woke
Marxist, oppressive and no joke!
What to do, what to do?
Its rancid retro racist sin
Embalmed in landfill would fit in.
Someone said to me 1% rule the world,
I refused to believe and insults they hurled.
Why get personal because I reject the ideal?
If you believe it use this time to talk facts,
insults suggest you have nothing valid that'll impact.
You have no stats or statistics,
no facts that are realistic.
They tell me I'm not suppose to understand Lucifer or Illuminati,
but in general they tend to understand a lot less than me,
they are inferior intellectually,
so I let them have this victory,
allowed out of sympathy,
which is nice really
they think they see what I can't see.
Why do I reject the 1% rule theory?
It's simple, I'm not ignorant mathematically.
You see,
the 1% that you believe,
is not a small minority,
1 is small and that deceives.
However I can't comprehend how an organization of 70 million
can operate productively without a difference of opinion.
How can all benefit,
at meetings where do all sit,
how are they trusted to keep it secret
and how do they induct into it.
Worldwide 1% is the amount to have a high level of education.
1% would be the worlds 20th most populated nation,
bigger than Great Britain or France
stats like this cause me to reject your stance.
What circumstances would cause 70 million
to agree and reach an outcome?
33 Million was split into 17 and 16 million
in the Brexit referendum,
how do 70 million agree often?
Brexit was one question with two answers.
I'm sorry but I don't agree with the theory you opt for,
it is just not possible.
1% don't rule,
they are highly educated with an element of control,
but that is just evolution after all,
like the pack behind the alpha male.
So if you blindly believe these theories
can I suggest you find some hobbies.
It's the natural evolutionary order,
Our highly educated amounts to 1 percentage,
they've limits, that's why the elite fall through the ages.
70 Million is 1% and that number is not small,
so to conclude the whole theory is bull....
Time i see it not.' Yet its journey has yet not stopped' if two hundred years were
The span of your days.? You would read
Better, the woes of each age' failing this
Hit the history trail, if more did; could we have
Less seething, or tantying, or railing rage.? Look at 1853; 56.' You might get to learn of dark tricks, 1910 a time of Spanish flu, 1914 and a war just grew? Forty one years untill the second go.' To clear out
fachists is the way it did go.' 1965 we got
Into nam..' right after the Korean one
damn! con-vid has been and gone
If you were two hundred now you
would have lived through every, one..Maybe you can see a pattern now, old europe can be a greedy sow, many world leaders, on puppet strings, its not just a theory, things
Turn to similar in our timeframe again, convid has been and gone' old europe eyes Crimea again..For you see a stratagist, once said who rules there, holds the world, in a
pillory, Fred or charlie or wally? Or who.? Can't you see
On which foot is the shoe.' I suggest you find out really fast, or your jacksie, might
Get one up it? way too hard' and, quite fast.'
It's funny. The mind goes there and back,
Switching between lyre to inspire -
And the sober thoughts of black.
If all I love is theory,
And if all I know is fiction,
Then why do eyes get teary,
To the tune of my prediction?
I could dream a thousand times,
And play the songs that flow.
If nothing else at least it rhymes,
With my heart and face aglow.
It's funny. The mind goes there and back,
Switching to inquire and tire -
All the sober thoughts of black.
It's far more fun to forget,
And to sing for what excites.
In ignorance it's nice to get,
A chance to see the lights.
Even if these words won't last,
I don't mind their stay for now.
Lyrics should be slow not fast,
We don't have to wonder how.
It's funny. The mind is taken aback,
Switching inspire to quiet fire -
And smoke's sober thoughts of black.
Weapons of mass fury
Locked and loaded
watching the media Snow
falling on tombstones
Blinding the world
fury for the masses
raise our glasses pour the wine
Lets toast the insane
in the consciousness
of the sublime the
memory of a nation
Watch the world burn
feeling the heart a blaze
see the child watching
TV of guns and violence
hear the music of deaths destruction
Heavy cords and screaming
reeling in Glee
Words praise darkness
in hallowed be your name
dark seed is planted
theory for the masses
Conspiracy is king
Shadows is Q-ueen
See the weapon smoking lies
in the streets a bullet in the chest
of the beloved the rain sweeps
the ashes away
fury for the masses let it snow
lock and load
A people person made to not like people
I've known the worst ones, spiteful, evil,
I gave sympathy
they pointed out the wimp in me
I gave time
they mocked and undermine
I showed compassion
and offered protection
no such fashion
came my direction
When I was weak
they labelled me needy
suffered, didn't speak
my spirit was bleeding
my reality refused
but my pain was present
with everyone confused
I drained of presence
hiding in isolation
my brain tied in knots
finding complication
but why? I'd forgot
slid a slide to suicide
because part of me had died
put life in the throw of the dice
saved by chance, kept me alive
so i quit the drink and drugs
still my brain not lined with sight
silent shoulder shrugs
manipulated, days are nights
then i expressed in poetry
emotions started flowing free
and suddenly it's showing me
unholy repressed memories
the memories and puzzle fit
the confusion bubble missing bits
friends act like enemies taking hits
above all their still doing it
refusing my reality
to the point where lives insanity
they changed my personality
and their lies still damage me
to all a mystery why i changed
too many drugs one night mates claimed
my brain was hindered far from range
acting crazed this theory remained
but the truth is they ignored my problem
and by doing so caused a new problem
the third point is they hid both problems
and theorised on what was my problem
more people believed what was told
misdirected perspective contamination
and for years and years down hill I rolled
never resolved, treated with discrimination
my reality unknown
a false reality created
truth never shown
suffered isolated
behaved alike a mad man
because all of this happened
remembering now as I can
leaving me more flattened
knowing all this for the very first time
knowing I was manipulated out of my mind
yet having enough to understand why,
brings power to get out and up I climb
though i realise 13 years on
when all i had then has completely gone
with all unaware of the wrong
I stand tall, broad, and I stand strong
Heaven quote-unquote existed...pre-the universe’s birth...
If’s God’s really real, it’s Him that Made it, just for what it’s worth...
That would mean this life’s illusion...Manufactured, something ‘other’...
How on earth are we supposed to know what’s real or just a Cover?...
That’s just it!...It can’t be answered!...No mere man can say for sure...
Where’d’ya draw the line when space and time are cogs in God’s Design?...
Who can say the world existed...pre-the day you came to be?...
Since we know it’s all illusion...who can prove that ‘they’ can see?...
Maybe some of us are Chosen? Maybe only you or me?...
We can’t say for certain so we’ll treat each other beautifully...
Either way, it’s God’s Design...Avoid the risk of spiritual fine!...
Time, they say’s eternal though I thought they said that God’s Exempt...
He Exists outside the structure...that we quote-unquote enjoy...
Everything is Planned...’Add’, understand and don’t ‘destroy’...
I am...The source of consciousness comes from outside of the body...This suggests, if not, say, proves, that ‘thoughts’ are all, say, channeled...’...“I make known the end(, my friend) from(, say,) the (start or, say,) beginning...what is still to come. I say, ‘My...will (is not ‘my’ own)”’...
God ‘Removed’ the dark from light. That’s right! The two were once as one... while ‘Darkness’(, some say ‘evil’,) is all God. The doctor’s wrong!...Song was first inspired by silence...Love is noticed most through hate...God Made men...believe in ‘evil’...Beasts will meet at Moses’ gate...Just wait until you hear what’s in your DNA...It’s Yahweh’s Name!...Why, we are but Machines of sorts...His naughts and ones, I am...A shameless sham; free will’s illusion...Logic sticks to ‘my’ conclusion...All ‘our’ thoughts and science must make sense within The Plan...If channeling is, indeed, a thing, which gives the voice box things to sing, say, how can any thought be free within Set-destiny?...When we factor in the theory; butterflies meet sliding doors; each tidal wave’s a steppingstone-pre- Planned-perpetually...Time does not exist, in truth...The dawn of time is always now...The universe is screaming ‘Trust!’...just please don’t ask me how...I am...A(re )men(?)...my friend or, in fact, foe...The soul’s a sort of software so know nothing that ‘they’ say today can prove that God’s not there...I swear...I am..
The journey back
The trail
An Author of books
“FOR WHOM THE BELLS TOLL” my look
From Miami to Key West
The whom being I
4 hour venture to tour Ernest Hemingway’s house in Key West, Florida
Through his writings encouraged me to write
Extending my own words into theory
Mr. Hemingway being the vision of what words can be, and illustrating thoughts
The whom being can
The glance and grasp
I did a critical analysis of my College English 101 Professor’s Assigned I chose “FOR WHOM THE BELLS TOLL”
I got an A for my analysis of the book
Ernest Hemingway was an impact
His words bringing fact
His accomplishments are hard to keep track
Ernest Hemingway write up
Analysis complete.