Long Unintelligible Poems

Long Unintelligible Poems. Below are the most popular long Unintelligible by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unintelligible poems by poem length and keyword.


Thanks To You All

Thanks to you all
Thanks to those who come to 
poetrysoup.com, practise poems, 
write, read and share poems 
and comment on others

Thanks to those who read my
writings, do comments, follow 
me, avoid my poems, block
and ban me from their list
Thanks to you all

I’ve no eternity here, all of me
from least to chest, best to edge,
sharpen blade of new paddy leaves
jeopardize my torn nib of ink
in the field of writings graph  

Maybe I couldn’t write any word 
for beauty and stunning young girl 
in comprehension, in passion and 
in my fashionable heart

Maybe I couldn’t write charming note
of flower’s petals, striking fragrance,
in my perpetuity lake of quills

Maybe I couldn’t draw the sexy body of 
rose, lotus, tulip, sunflower, orchid, 
lily, daffodil… etc in my vulnerable
reef of poetic expression

Maybe I couldn’t draw the colors magic
of rainbow in my infatuated fallen 
soaked feathers with November rain

Maybe I couldn’t inscribe the nature
the cosmos, the solar system, the ocean, 
the black hole, the space, the sky, the stars, 
the planets, the galaxies, the meteors, the
gravitational power…etc in my slumbering 
wings of writings

Maybe I couldn’t plant the meditational
tree into the pure heart of words, I couldn’t
select the seeds of immortality in my
ascetic madness and magma script

Maybe I couldn’t greet the autonomy flying
of Cockatiels, Parakeets, Canaries, Finches, 
African Grey Parrots, Budgerigars, Cockatoos, 
Conures, Macaws, Poicephalus…etc in my 
unintelligible incarcerated language 

Maybe I couldn’t hail the abode for Labrador, 
Bulldog, German, Poodle, Beagle… etc and
Maine Coon, Egyptian Mau, American Bobtail,
Ragdoll…etc in my materialistic 
harvesting terminology 

Maybe I couldn’t sleep with power of poems,
dream to be a finest classic or modern poet
in my kingdom of pen, paper, ink, writing
table-chair and lamp

Notwithstanding all these, I thanks to those
who come here at least one time daily, 
erratically and read, write, share own 
thoughts and comment frankly 

Thanks to you all a lot. Thanks and love you
all. From me always ready the rose without 
thorns and love for you all, although you bleed 
my heart by thorns stinging 


-November 14, 2018 Chattogram



////

DEDICATED TO POETRYSOUP.COM and ALL POETS-POETESSES OF THIS ESTEEMED LITERARY SITE


2009 Hyundai Sonata Funereal Lament

Unaffordable, yet valiant speeding, 
tailgating, and zooming Pep Boys, I cannot dodge. 

Yours truly grief stricken
(sob... sob... sob)...
wheely hard to bear
this anticipatory anxiety
riddled joker impossible
mission thwarting despair

death knell tolled (told),
woebegone news, I did fear
hears stunned me into silence,
the unwelcome prognosis,
I needed to hear
no joke, but good humor

totally wrecked vehicle forces
yours truly to become...,
no not a lion tamer
but, yes a panhandling junketeer
begging, copping, dilly dallying... ha
to accept unpleasant

unexpected dire straits
gravely digging within lithosphere
bidding... fare thee well
treasured automobile faithful and near
synonymous with ideal paramour, yet now
must confront stark reality,

lack ample disposable income available
no financial resources to persevere,
and worse case scenario me
and the missus will need to don
faux Santa Claus outfit,
and roundup available reindeer

for ourselves (yea... yea... yea...,
I realize how spare
and tired, pessimistic,
forlorn success such short notice
unless if... nah no fat or slim chance...
apocalypse ushers abominable thermonuclear

war, (I doubt Trump would 
pull publicity stunt
to be re elected - ha) whereby
Beatle browed, foo fighting
foreigners, survivors impressed, feted,
compensated... for service
unless they willingly volunteer.

Combination future pluperfect
birthday presents and Noel hi
Christmas gifts well nigh,
noah ark cake "FAKE" attempt,
to hoodwink, engine ear,
trunk hate, et cetera
drum, harp, trumpet... belie
including objective to shanghai,

nor fall out of good amazing graces
toward (me) garden variety generic guy
providing steadfast generous
figurative air supply to fortify,
revving me shaky talent,
ye may oft times decry
as unintelligible gobbledygook

brainstorming ideas to try
single handedly ambidextrously
poetically kindle indeed codify
to elucidate how transportation
car reared and gone awry
moderate expenses as original parts wear out,
(i.e. battery, fender, brakes, 
hood latch, shock absorber, tires...

albeit almost all simultaneously), hence I sigh
aware expounding circumstance that doth defy
immediate resolution incumbent to pacify
troubleshoot immediate impasse
squarely render quintessence
problem solving the overriding 
challenge, I vilify.

Tablecloth Telling the Time

A weasel wibble wobbling can be said to have ingested copious amounts of indemonstrable indelible ink today as it soared into doorways, hallways, cloakrooms, and buffet tables. Buffet tables are neither buffaloes or bongos. In fact they are a pleasant sight to behold. Many colours. Many tastes. And the sounds of chatting from the sandwich stack is delightful especially when the mayonnaise is chuckling away at the jokes told by the ham and cheese. Little dainty cup cakes are immature so a quality conversation cannot be held. And the large jug is rather unintelligible and uninteresting as it yawns away the hours before the consumption takes place. The operatic oversized plate of soprano pineapples and chords of cheese with onions today but the mighty weight of the plate of rice and pasta salad bangs away and interrupts the acts really so the sauces must line up and push the nuisance plate to the floor and this they did. The dog was very very pleased and lay down after eating it all for a doze. And over half a dozen eggs kept jumping up and down and throwing their mayonnaise hats off. We font want these hats. We want whipped cream they shouted. The despondent tablecloth groaned. Another booming buffering buffet. And then the cutlery began having races between the foods. Zoom zoom zoom. Wow. The might of the jar of gherkins was being prayed to by the punnet of strawberries. And the profiteroles were preforming Pilates to an amused potatoe salad. The salt and pepper were arguing over who got used the most. And the coleslaw was diving on and off the pizza slices which annoyed the pepperoni who shouted go away in a very high pitched voice. Buffet battling bemusingly being buttering breadsticks. And now the time had arrived. The hungry swans and tulip people were here. They saw the mess. Blamed the dog. Then walked out in disgust. Oh dear. The tablecloth picked itself up and all it's contents too then went out of the back door and soared off in the air. It landed on a busy beach where it fed lots of little sea urchins. Who were grateful. They gave the tablecloth an ice cream to say thanks. Then the tablecloth went into the sea and swam to the island of the nine figs. Great isn't it. Ha ha the waves want wands. Hahaha boats bouncing into the sky. Left angled fueled fuel vision of a visionary variant spelling of mid. Xxxxx contemplation z z z z in a kiosk z
Form:

Premium Member I swear to tell the truth


The whole truth 
and nothing but the fu(king truth
That laws, and math, only help solve 
local temporary problems, 
All of which fall way short 
on the infinite needs scale
were we rely on estimates, theories, 
and other manmade truths 
 
Still here we are, 
alone on a goldilocks planet
All 8 billion of us milling around, 
living our lives
guaranteed nothing
other than this moment 
and whatever came before 
To think otherwise 
would be presumptuously human
 
As for choice is there really any 
other than try feed ourselves
and sate the instinct to survive and thrive 

We are a civilisation built on
disparate societal values and creeds
Each day is an imperceptible handover 
from one generation to the next, 
with no guarantee they’ll do a better job 
 
But the real problem is not truth,
It’s why!
Why anything at all,
Why life
Why the fu(k am I asking these questions
I’m apostate, No!
I have little faith, No!
I am honest, No!
A nihilist, No
It’s because I have a sentient,
curious, unapologetic mind
that compels me to ask why!
 
Sometimes I think
i’d be better off a sponge 
floating in crystal clear turquoise balmy oceans 
Soaking up oblivious unintelligible surroundings 
Indifferent to mortality and the universe,
popping off a few buds every once in a while, 
or whatever sponges 
brainlessly do to further their species 

Such basic life is so very tempting 
but just doesn’t sit right 
Never to experience love 
however fleeting, 
Never to endure pain 
However crushing,
Never to feel like throwing in the towel, 
Even if just to mop blood 
off the floor like a sponge 

See, I’ve had moments 
unimaginably beautiful,
Alongside unconscionably awful ones,
Moments so real 
they can’t have been synthesised 
by any stretch of any imagination 

I believe a God or the universe 
created me as a vessel of interpretation 
to perceive itself 
from my unique perspective 
Well not unique per se,
more a personalised handicapped view 

I am nothing and everything
in the grand scheme of things 
No more! No less!
One that uses swear words 
language you may not like,
yet clearly understand

The weirdest part is not the feeling 
I’ve written this fu(ked up poem 
in previous carnations 
It’s my swearing 
just seems to be getting worse 

By
David Kavanagh

Don'T Bide Your Time

In the blink of an eye the time passes so fast it flies by 
Define time 
Lives a ***** then you die 
Eye of the storm watches over my lifestyles fate
In dire straight bathing as the holy water washes over my tired face 
I sate thirst 
I taste black words emerge that I wanna say 
and they say I'm shot away 
First and second take pressing play checking the record again
Third I gotta change 
Forth, fifth, sixth day Armageddon
Getting too close to the edges better slow down ya fast progression of mad acts of mankind's expansion of minds 
Enhanced heights
Drawing a line's unintelligible in the advancement of time 
At the end of our time do we start again? 
Running the marathon man labyrinth 
Passionate
Partaking in challenges 
Participant champion triumphs 
No standing on iron shoulders of arrogant giants
I'm the desert rat blazing a trail in my chariot of fire 
Call me Pisces Iscariot sia-mese dream
Twin town hide and seek 
Me, myself and I feature split minds spitefully 
My real self hides inside myself and screams blue murder 
From the tomb where my wounds tumor 
Terminal doom soon turns gloomier 
Duma key frenzied telepath terror streak
reeks havoc and brings sheer panic to every street 
Splashing ink on a blank canvas 
Painting the future with an exact accurate dooms day
In fact grab a seat at the master piece gallery of art of new fate 
As a new day dawns ya fates drawn 
Ya destiny's death till then you'll work just to pay for it 
I'm sleep walking with one foot in my grave scourging in flames and the pains more moreish than this draw that I crave
Mad thoughts on my brain scattered funny
I'm that ex druggy heard talking to my sex life in a language I actually haven't studied
Which way is up cus this ascension gets me spinning out twisting figure eights into eyes of the thickest clouds 
Brainstorm demon outcast from our modern lands 
Phantom of the opera mask 
Shock horror comic graph-ic novel 
Zombie slash monster mash 
Rapid action packed chapters
This mad dog's rabid 
Scattering the ashes and rise a hundred phoenix
Evoke the cross ghosts demons and summon the spirits of lost souls 
I'm like a poltergeist with a cross bow with poisonous bolts
I'll possess any joyous host 
Annoy me I'll destroy every toy ya own 
I enjoy walking through this void alone
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Don'T Just Whisper

1.
WHAT?

Are we going to enter the ill-fated whirlpool of
Unintelligible madness, and let calamitous folly,
Anchor its obscure ships of destruction in our
Harmonious hearts?

Or

Are we going to follow the discerning star of
Glowing reason and allow lustrous wisdom
Institute its simmering dominion in our
Tormented minds?

2.
Are we going to constantly give fortified shelter to
Detrimental fears and permit fatal pessimism
Establish its depressing presence,                                                             
In our serene lives?

Or

Are we going to evict, detrimental dread, from our
Excruciating consciousness and relinquish vivifying
Optimism to enact its invigorating message,
All over our agonizing planet?

3.
Are we going to stand, apathetically still in front of
Virtue’s constant devastation and grant mean vice,
Permission to grow  its abominable fruit of injustice
In our loving society?

Or

Are we going to become vigorously implicated in
Rectitude’s resurrection by putting up a gallant fight for
The condemnation of dreary crime,
In our fearful world?

4.
Are we going to let fading belief steadily degenerate our
Blazing ethics and permit sinister infamy, build its
Damnable empire of anarchy, in our
Mystic souls?

Or

Are we going to work, with ever-expanding zeal to
Revive glittering morality by sanctioning compassion and
Regenerating empathy and bringing harmony in
Our damned society?

5.
Are we going to sacrifice illustrious truth on the
Wicked altar of self-interest and endure venomous lie
Undisturbed to flourish in the midst of our
Community? 
  
Or

Are we going to courageously strive against the
Catastrophic falsehood by allowing rapturous
Veracity thrive and blossom within
Ourselves?

6.
Are we going to remain helpless prey of
Mischievous hatred and grand carnivorous war the
Permit to destroy and devour life on
Eternal earth?

Or

Are we going to transform ourselves to
Charitable giants and give birth to everlasting peace and
To ever-enduring love for every fellow
Living being?

7.
If your choice is not the former but the latter, my 
Loving friend,

Then

Do not just whisper but ROAR! 








©   Demetrios Trifiatis
      16 December 2020

Premium Member The Battle of the Minds For the Sole Possession of All Souls

THE BATTLE OF THE MINDS FOR THE
SOLE POSSESSION OF ALL SOULS

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN
MENTAL WELLNESS AND
MENTAL ILLNESS , IS
UNDERSTANDING AND
KNOWING THE DIFFERENCE
BETWEEN RIGHT AND WRONG.

WHY WOULDN'T YOU WANT A 
MENTALLY ILL LEADER TO LEAD YOU ?
THE SAME REASON YOU WOULDN'T WANT AN INCOMPETENT LEADER TO LEAD YOU.

WHY WOULD YOU PUT YOUR LIFE
IN THE HANDS OF INCOMPETENT
AND MENTALLY ILL INDIVIDUALS
WHO DON'T KNOW THE DIFFERENCE
BETWEEN MEN AND WOMEN ,
RIGHT AND WRONG ,
ROBOTS AND HUMAN BEINGS.

SOCIOLOGICAL BEHAVIOR OBSERVERS
RECOGNIZE THE PHRASE
IF YOU CAN'T BEAT THEM , 
BEAT THEM UP. 
KILL THEM IF NECESSARY.
SECRETS MUST REMAIN SECRET.

THE GENERAL PUBLIC ARE ALLOWED
SUCCESS BUT ONLY  TO A DEGREE. 
THEY ARE ONLY ALLOWED TO LEARN THE TRUTH. 
AGAIN ONLY TO A DEGREE.

ONCE THE ORDINARY BEINGS RECOGNIZE AND UNDERSTAND ELEVATED CONSCIOUSNESS
AND INTUITION , POLICY MAKERS ,
SOCIOLOGICAL BEHAVIOR
OBSERVERS AND GROUPS
AND THE THOUSANDS OF
THINK TANKS AROUND THE WORLD
WILL TAKE ACTION TO PROTECT THEIR
SELF APPOINTED AUTHORITY TO
CONTROL THE LIVES OF THOSE 
THEY BELIEVE TO BE UNINTELLIGIBLE.

THE COMMON OR AVERAGE BEING 
OR PERSON WHO IS CAPABLE OF ELEVATING CONSCIOUSNESS AND INTUITION 
WILL BECOME A THREAT TO THE SELF APPOINTED 
LORDS AND LEADERS .
THOSE WHO MERELY CLAIM TO BE 
THE AUTHORITY OR IN CHARGE OF , 
STAND OVER AND ABOVE THE SO CALLED SUBORDINATES FOLLOWERS AND SUBJECTS.

IT'S BEEN 2000 YEARS AND THE SPIRITUAL BATTLE 
BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL CONTINUES.
A BATTLE OF THE MINDS
FOR THE POSSESSION OF ALL SOULS.
WITH NEW TECHNIQUES AND TECHNOLOGIES.
REACHING A POINT IN TIME WHERE
TRANSHUMANISM AND ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE 
HAVE DELIBERATELY BEEN DESIGNED AND COMBINED AND CREATED TO CAPTURE AND CONTROL THE BODY , MIND AND SOUL OF ALL MANKIND. 

FREE WILL , FREE THOUGHT , FREEDOM
TO SPEAK TO AND SEEK GUIDANCE
FROM THE UNIVERSE , DIRECTLY FROM  CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE.
HAS BECOME AND IS CONSIDERED 
A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY AND DEMOCRACY. DISINFORMATION , MISINFORMATION AND 
A DYSTOPIAN WAY OF LIFE.

THE BATTLE OF THE MINDS...
FOR THE SOLE POSSESSION...
OF ALL SOULS.

Michael E. Harris
04072023

Unintelligible Communication - Who/What/Where/When/Why/How?

How can you say the things
that make me want to scream?
How can you hear the words
that make me want to cry?

Why does my life
feel like a constant cliche
and why are you
content to care
about a creature who cares
about nothing at all?

i said i had lost my priorities
but i know i just finally
realized what they are:
"wallowing in self-imposed misery"
ranks first
and manipulation
and selfishness
come in a close second and third
if there is much difference
between them at all.

Can you tell
that i'm out of words?
all i can do
is scream and cry
sigh at life's inevitability
about the mess that is me
and i wish sometimes
that i could let go
float on the flow
of my tears and waters
that teem with my screams
swim
and actually get somewhere.

i try to return to the past
but my creative juices
have fled
watered down by time
and repetitive experiences
and this is new
but not so much so 
that there's anything more
to say
that hasn't already
been said.
i've related to you
the over-used lines
i seem to spill at these times
don't be surprised if
i am reduced
to repeating 4 words:
"what do i do?"
'cause that's all it comes down to.

i write because
it feels like something accurate
-- and that still effects deeply and intensely --
might come out
the next time
or the next time
when really
i read over my old poems
and realize
i've exhausted my supplies
of deep, intense effective poems
and all that's left
is just chicken scratch.

i
don't want to
am not able to
write anything more
all i can do
is lay my head
on the naked pillow
and hope that i won't rise
or if i do
i won't be me.

i can write the words
that make me want to cry
i can write the things
that make me want to scream
but how you can say and hear
i'll never know
'cause i've gone
far beyond the realm
where that is
a plausible
possible
option
but here i can retreat to 
and "fire at will
from behind my hideout
of faux-i-don't-care".
and as i write
i realize that that is the one thing
i can say
that is utterly true
because i am
sorry
and there's nothing i can do
to change that.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Hey, Your Fly Is Open



      It could have been me,
      It might have been you.
      Race and color is baloney,
      When another hurts you!

      Three huge men, watched
      a New York woman die.
      They even shut the door.
      I was both angry and wanted 
      to cry.

      Her face was smashed by his
      gigantic feet.
      But those three men, who did 
      not a thing, explain that to your 
      maker when His face you meet!

      It's easy to stop disaster... stop 
      being a wimp!
      Open your mouth, distract them, 
      don't be a useless gimp.

      Here's a simple ploy, that stops 
      any bully of a man!
      Yell......"Your fly is open," he
      becomes dis-manned.

      I did that myself on the streets 
      of San Francisco!
      A man beating a woman in
      broad daylight, oh?

      Blood flying just everywhere, 
      pedestrians ignored it?
      I just got in his face, told him 
      to stop hitting her this minute!

      Don't ask me where that courage 
      came from!
      I just saw pain and wanted to
      stop the bum!

      He swore at me, in words quite 
      unintelligible!
      Turned angrily away, and ran on 
      the double.

      I helped the woman pick up her things.
      She said, thank you and went about 
      on about her meanderings.

      "Don't be a wuss, and ever allow another 
       to be beaten!"

      Being a good Samaritan means you are
      a credit to the human race.
      Something that neither time nor age can 
      ever deface!

      When police are not in the area to assist 
      you....
      Support your fellow human,
      Walking away, I heartily eschew!

       Perhaps it was two beatings, I endured in 
       Chicago Public Schools?
       That gave me the courage to make protecting 
       another, my life's golden rule!

                 


                            4/1/2021
                              ~5~
Form: Rhyme

Once

Once, 
About ten minutes ago in the year 
2006 or 
2549, depending upon which avatar or
 Messiah is consulted, I  
 Tumbled out of my bed to the 
Untranslatable 
Predawn
 Cackle of 
Frantic voices
Descending.
 
So, with urgency
 Rarely experienced since the 
Evacuation of my spirit
From the Land of
Possession Addiction, I was called to summon previously 
Unknown prowess 
Chancing traffic choked streets
Of Nakhorn (used to mean “New City” 700 years ago but not sure now) 
Chiang Mai.

So there I was
Aboard my mostly pint-sized for a European descendent Kawasaki 112,
Red-blooded American head 
Protruding 
turret-like out of an
Undersized helmet that,
If nothing else,
 Officially pronounced me foreign
 Blazing a jutted path around 
Decrepit trishaws,
Ubiquitously red baht busses and,
Not the least, a motorcycle with a sidecar bandaged to its
 Aching side just in time to witness a
Spit-shined just out of the wrapper BMW 
Brusque aside a
 Sardine packed dump truck
 Loaded, 
Not with dirt, but five dollar a day 
Laborers.

All this and more
 Just moments before
 Mounting the silted Ping and
 Stampeding city gates, I glimpsed
Censored Snippets of TV reports blurting something unintelligible like
 “Bangkok coup”,
“Corruption”,
“A King”
And
Somewhere,
Quite uncensored, of a not so pleased
 Laozi,
Lotus splayed in
Meditation
Kneading the Eastern soil one 
Daoist grain at a time,
 Before ancient city walls
Rose up,
Monolithic in my path. 

And then the recall that
Centuries before,
Burmese raiders
Resplendent in warrior garb
Plundered the palace and soul
Of the kingdom Thai before stealthily
Creeping back to their lairs,
Buddha-fat with riches.

That leaves the Siamese of 1935
 And me, to wonder
Where is freedom
When we travel so far 
Pell mell and
 Peril, only to discover
 In a fleeting brief moment the road to 
Iniquity marked, rather
 Erroneously, with the signpost to
 Promises?

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter