Long Tolerable Poems
Long Tolerable Poems. Below are the most popular long Tolerable by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tolerable poems by poem length and keyword.
Futile effort to plunger the clogged kitchen sink...
courtesy malfunctioning garbage disposal
which won't be removed
by onsite maintenance man
UNTIL/UNLESS
fruit fly excreta wiped off
(impossible to access)
areas along bathroom and kitchen walls
so communicated "the warden."
Thus we (yours truly and his missus)
subjected to inhale
putrid, offal, and noxious
smelling stagnant water
until every streak
telltale sign regarding Drosophila melanogaster
exuded excretory evidence
vanishes without a trace
vis a vis thru cutting
qua yellow elbow grease.
Aforementioned hardy critter
approximately three millimeters in length
and two millimeters in width
one defiant little bugger
proliferate - reproductive propensity
of fruit fly enormous
under ideal circumstances
female lays about 500 eggs
impossible mission to exterminate
or extinguish pesky species
without declaring total mortal kombat,
and even then
no guarantee targeted
above named mite size bug
nsync with his/her brethren
blown to smithereens.
Despite all pervasive existence
plus ingress into mine nasal passage
as nostril dam us foretold
annoyance on par with midges
flying up into nose
far more tolerable
synonymous with lesser of two evils
versus exhausting these lovely bones
tirelessly suctioning refuse
pooling fetid water.
I will seriously ponder
posting gofundme site
as a last ditch effort
to escape nauseating
effluence out the plumbing bowels
worse smell than rotten Gotham
sliding down into behavioral sink
if management here
at Highland Manor Apartments
decrees fiat all secretion
indeed linkedin with fruit fly eliminated.
The New Yorker said Casablanca was “pretty tolerable”
No one expected it to do great things.
It was surprising when it won Best Picture of 1942.
Eighty-one years old, and it is now iconic.
My husband has a six foot poster of it in his office.
He watches it six to ten times a year.
I remind him that Bogart had to stand on a couple of blocks.
Ingrid Bergman was over two inches taller than he was.
Paul Henreid aka Victor Laszlo called Bogart a mediocre actor.
Bogart called Paul a “prissy prima donna”.
“Here’s looking at you kid” is attributed to Bogart.
He said it to Bergman when he taught her poker in between takes.
I know you don't want to hurt
or even disappoint
me
And I know you don't want to hurt
yourself.
Yet still your shame
and self-blame hurt
Your self-judging
punishing closet frame
suffocates our transparent life
my caring curiosity craves,
and mutual vulnerability
our sharing courage braves.
Addiction to feeling happy
is not free
and connected to sensory satisfaction
nor to ego significant gratification
and certainly does not feed natural
and water spiritual
bilateral wealth
of healthy feeling transubstantiation,
Which, as you know,
I also recognize as body and mind healthy
choice transformation voices.
Before you even small ego-voice object,
I also recognize you may feel natural
v spiritual choice
has nothing to do with driving off
without "goodbye,
see you safely soon."
If no physically tolerable choice
of resources to feed serotonin
and water dopamine,
I know, from years of isolated,
neglected depressive experience,
how frightening loss of lonely
yet sufficient ego-powered control
can feel chronic lack of thrival.
Speaking not of win/win choice,
but inside swatting interminable win/lose Voice
never still
until you self-shame
and blame
hiding hurts
and unfree frames
us both,
unhappy you,
not Here,
And me
loving EarthNatured
EgoSpirited enough for Us,
not yet togathered Now
Still worrying
what will voiceless nonchoice happen
disempowered There
and unenlightened Then
'til suddenly Amen
Our silently uninvited
apartheid End.
Is it a virtue
of legal, or just plain logical, process
to tolerate the morally intolerable?
Regardless of therapeutic opportunities to communicate dissent,
loud and clearly vocalized
articulate and explicit resistance.
Is it an immoral act
to participate in the Win/Lose market for climate pathology
if you could not know whether you are recast as oil-baron predator
or as a life-long perpetual child
praying for matriarchal cover?
Is it a corrosive vice
to tolerate the intolerable?
To settle for only Win/Lose options
in a ZeroSum stingy world.
Do I tolerate, even celebrate,
most everybody except those who are intolerant?
Why does feeding openness
to tolerating change
feel so risky?
Alarming past critical events
confronting disloyal oppositions
fade into memories of chronic dis-associations
against those also intolerant in diverse ways.
Am I a good person
if my most celebrated values advocating diversity,
and my more internal integrity of voices valued
and heard,
and cared for
feel like fragment fading shreds
of intolerable wonder and awe?
Why is your here and now intolerance,
my fearful-future intolerance,
against accepting invitations to mutually stretch tolerance?
Now invested in building apartheid-trusting walls
rather than win/win interdependent webs.
Why is my self-righteous intolerance
fair,
just?
Yet your fears and terrors,
impatience and suffering,
intolerable neglect
of win/win mindful opportunities
are not OK,
not healthy democratic enough,
too elitist,
too explicitly ignorant
of implicit win/win hope,
remain at least non-lose/lose communication,
verbal and non-verbal,
Still open to becoming more virtuously,
and legally,
tolerable.
I have a mixture every morning of chocolate milk and coffee
Never had weed, but smelled it once
Got promptly sick.
Wretchedly sick,
Never smelled it again.
Glad to have not had that pleasure.
I add a packet of powdered hot chocolate mix into my coffee
Then I stir in two packets of sugar, and top it off with about
three ounces of chocolate milk.
I tried putting in a little chocolate syrup once.
It did not enhance the taste,
so I am going to say possibly chocolate is my favorite.
Best of all, it makes coffee tolerable, and everyone says
I am old enough to drink it now, so maybe I am.
I never want to smell weed again.
It did not help that I was pregnant at the time.
Divide and conquer debates
favor win/lose competitions
as sometimes vicious over-investment
in defeating healthy democracy
to conquer public-square power space
not particularly sublime
While compassionate discussions
favor win/win cooperation
as virtuous co-investments
in green communion
circling passionate sharing time
Becoming complexly nuanced
beyond any tolerable hot red point
of static Business As Usual stuck
redundantly building stale uniformity lists
from LeftBrain hearing preference
for strong straight white self-defense
protagonist voices
Drowning out Other
while dragging out streams
of degenerating antagonist
non-communication
Unhealthy anthro-supremacist
viciously polarizing
and repolarizing
hidden dark resentments,
perennial fears of not enough
Dissociating and ruminating dark rabbit holes
for hiding capital competing heads
while our ecocidal ideations destroy
fragile health care systems,
insuring natural defense
organic industries
food and potable water production
and historical preservation
and water-front real estate values
Further dividing
and polarizing deepest dialogue
and highest
and best debates
favoring winner survives all competitions
and vicious viral over-investment
in defeating healthy democratic trust
to conquer public-square power space
by fostering active distrust of Other,
not particularly sublime
While more regenerative discussions
favor win/win ecofeminist cooperation
as virtuous co-investment
in green communion
circling compassion's communion
through eternally sacred
EarthTribe inclusive time.
we had it coming
looking at pictures of an empty Piccadilly Circus
or the Eifel tower in Paris all are empty of life except
for police cars cruising to fine anyone breaking the law.
The emptiness is awesome and frightening to think
How quickly humankind can disappear forever and
When pandemic is over, there might be another one.
Millions of people all over the world rotting in their homes
The disappearance of humans is a near reality.
The only hope is that we lived a tolerable good life.
The future will consist of animals hunting each other.
Cities will crumble, art and culture of no value.
We had it coming, I despair.
I found this little book
inside my heart, much
to my surprise – in a place
secure, for faithful, searching
eyes...apparently having long
been there – a safe-space of refuge,
free from sighs – an inner garden:
no perennial blooms, that perk and
rest, as sunlight and moons lift our
spirits like April Blooms, till
the winter's chills, though a
tolerable season of icy glooms –
some, of our specie
more inclined to adjust and
make best – put on skis, and
flip with fond zest...not willing
to succumb to our earth's seeming
recurring duress –
A place one finds nurture
and spiritual delight – free from
daily cares replete with despairs;
where the book came from –
God alone knows, and perhaps
none of my affairs; yet, filling me
with a sense, it was mine
to someday find – and then,
read to others, a blessed mission
to truthfully boast and share; I opened
it up...and low and behold,
sealed on the first page, was a
heart of gleaming gold. Solid gold,
seeming shiny and new.
Of course, I already knew, that
gold never tarnishes, just
the metals with which it is
mixed – and who would have
thought, on a book's first page
one would find, such a precious
thing affixed – a book of hope –
a book for all life? I pondered
thus refining even more – how
tarnishing mixtures gold needed
if to strengthen into shapes,
precious forms that endure – I thought of
my world, and my metals of strife –
thought of all my blemishes...those
I've spent seeming an eternity
from myself and others trying to hide...
and thought, maybe, I should have, all along,
not cursed them but blessed them – perhaps,
treasuring my obvious imperfections, as well
as my golden side.
A healthy distance for tolerating LeftBrain dominance
is to recognize our global incarnation
into RightWing intolerant prominence
as dogma of a strictly white hetero-male privileged unkind.
A distance between silent impatience
and loud dissent
is the distance between nonverbal nonviolence
and irritatingly verbal communication.
A tolerable distinction between quieter dissonance
and boisterous intolerance
is a distance between non-violent
and full LeftBrain dominantly overtaking
and/or sado-masochistic bipolarity
and/or socio-pathology
and/or undemocratic kleptocratic
Win/Lose capitalistic intention
in a LeftBrain alpha dog eats and beats
RightBrain beta feminist...dog world
on any over-heated...itchy day
he chooses inhumanely sick
ZeroSum one-sided pleasure.
So sorry.
This started out as a quietly sedate communication
and ended in a most unfortunately aggressive
sound of furious way.
Although aging may not be a present thing to experience
it is a great blessing. No matter how hard he tries to understand
old age, the youth will never be able to conceive the meaning of aging,
nor can taste the fruits of real human pathos that come only with age.
Listen, therefore, to this old buffoon, you the loafers who filled
this square; hear, therefore, what this shabby old man says,
you the vigorous young people who want to go a step ahead
the currents of time, rejecting traditions and resisting all orders.
If this old one’s appearance offends you, though I was wishing
to age myself in the way that is tolerable to others’ eyes,
please accept my apology.
If my conduct and behavior displeases you,
why not suffer with me for a moment
because I and myself cry over my own clumsy body
and limbs that won’t move as I wish any more.
If my voice is harsh and unpleasant,
why not let it be deaf to your ears
because all I wanted was to
clear my phlegm obstructed throat
and sing my favorite song that I sung once proudly.
If my laughter echoes hollowly in air,
why not laugh with me, because if not laughing,
this old one lives in tears for the rest of his remaining life,
because if they take laughter away from me, though it may sound hollow and self-contemptuous, only tears would fill my broken heart.