Long Unknowing Poems

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


Cognitive Awareness

Perplexed by my own 
considerable potential 
A pretext considered 
to be essential 
Ceaselessly aiming my mind 
adjusts to thinking 
Fiercely unequaled 
qualities linking 
Various consistency 
goes unfulfilled 
Vicarious living a superiority 
of words revealed
Radiant the intensity of 
my own delusion  
A variant that’s curiously 
completing illusion 
Stimulate others senses 
with my impressions 
Emulate lucidity of my 
minds own passion 
Capturing the attention 
in ironic imagery
Fracturing of confidence 
can still feel gimmicky 
An unrealistic subjective 
unwanted conceit 
My artistic view clouded 
by all the past deceit 
A cognitive awareness 
of the human reaction 
Accumulative between 
past transactions 
Characterized by all the 
unknowing shams 
Am I just disguised while 
trying to be who I am
Form: Rhyme


We the soil are witnesses to their turmoil

Trapped within the soil
Told stories filled with turmoil 
Carrying the weight of black history 
But it honours their memory 
By always remembering 
By never forgetting 

Soaked by the tears of the enslaved 
Waiting, hoping, praying to be saved
The ground an unknowing witness 
To them being worked to death
But in awe of their perseverance 

Throughout the years
One thing that remains clear
To the soil is that just because things have progressed 
Doesn't mean life for black people is perfect
Racism still exists
It went from slavery to incarceration 
To it being prevalent throughout the system
Racism just evolved through each generation 
We the soil see everything 
And hold the key
To untold black stories

Twenty Thousand Leagues

i dove
to the depths
of her
ocean where
phosphorescent
fish have become
grotesque

there is no
sun in this
dark water
womb
giving
birth to
what on earth

there are two
two lip fish one
horizontal the
other vertical
this is
the worst
to come upon

its very 
nature
is to
seduce
even
worse
then the

Medusa Jellyfish
as it opens its lips
with something
thumping dangling
from above worm
like and glowing
so that the unknowing

sees and wants to
taste pleasure but
never to receive for
the worm hardens
bringing you in not
noticing the plump
lips closing slowly

as if a 
Venus
Flytrap 
caught
in its
snatch
no time

to come
Form:

Premium Member We are depths gazing into the mirror of the sky

We are depths gazing into the mirror of the sky,
bottomless wells swallowing infinity,
and we never truly know ourselves,
for we are but fleeting shadows in the movement of time,
like two abysses intertwining their silences,
in a dance of unknowing and doubt,
and the shifting sands swallow equally
those who bear flags and those without strength,
covering with a mantle of forgetfulness
my life, my prose, my eternity,
and the wind of time carries me,
with the flag of victory wrapped around my defeat,
for I know that I know nothing,
and in this knowledge, I find peace,
in the echo of a truth lost among the stars,
where the sky collapses into my depths.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Wandering Thought

Wandering Thought

To pull the curtains
To shut off the lights
To sit in silence

How free goes one's pondering
When the day's synaptic noise settles
When fewer distractions make possible
Thought's meandering among unimposing congestion
Invites our new century's yin
As it seeks its compatible yang

We sense prerogative
Where just hours before
It's confinement
Bore suffering within
Shackles cinched tight
Dominance wishing us to believe

But to believe
Advises our nomadic thought
Is to conclude
Others' thinking brings forth knowing

We sit ever so quietly
The darkness resonating with hidden light
The light appearing soundless
Its palette of infinite color
Poised to bequeath the quintessential bliss

All that is
All as one
All the wandering thought
Undisturbed with unknowing
Embracing questions forever
Unanswerable

Dawn comes
The curtains are opened
Once again
Gathering begins
© Odin Roark  Create an image from this poem.


Where These Horses of Sanity Run

The places i go
Are different then the places i have been
I take to the reigns of pain
I try to control them
Yank them as hard as i can
But they don't stop the horses of rage
They symbol all the running i have done
With no logic and no goal
The prints go no where
I circle myself
Round and round
Confused and complaint to the ways of my up bringing
I am the man of the house i need to take care of them
But i have not for years and years
My  judgement clouded by jealousy and mistrust
I cant think clearly at all when anxiety takes control
The roles i play senseless and unemotional
I am like a child with no real guidance
I search continuously for the reason the origin of where all this comes from
Mentally challenged i never could think i was
Truth be told i do see that i tend to stray from any type of rational thought
When my mind goes a wild into trances of unknowing
It hypnotizes my heart to believe all is common
I need to recognizes these faults and try to improve where these horses of sanity run.

Let Mind Breathe

The mind is a high flyer.
An altitude of any measure
allows it to breathe clearer.
The mind breathes you.

Close out this world
follow the song-cycles
of your land-locked
wind-blown lungs.

Let that singing soar,
let go of all tethers
ride that lighter than air wind
up, up, up.

Hold on to nothing
gravity has no asway upon you,
you can rise forever
dance over any gleaming universe.

Enter that 'cloud of unknowing'
that birthed you; deliver yourself
from all dust of thought

until joy and laugher
boosts you
into that radiant immensity
of inner space, there you arise
as a star that knows no roof, ceiling
nor end.

One Afternoon at Table Top

Keep the seed going
In the cloud of unknowing
The roots branch out – the plant has grown
Watered by the cloud are the seeds that were sown

The Willie Wagtail punches above its weight
To repel a raven or crow, it will not hesitate
Oh, little bird with such plucky a heart
Turning harassment and evasion into such a fine art

My friend the Rosella with colours so bold
Created by that master painter of old
Be free to wander and screech and sing
May your voice in the forest for an eternity ring

Oh, if I could be a bird and fly
Perhaps I will on the day that I die
To take my place in that eternal nest
And have myself a well-earned rest.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Forevermore

Once. we trailed a lush forest 
            Of sweet desire and fiery embraces - 
     Where writings of eternity strayed
And a riot of fireflies
                        were circling 
          Right under a golden narra tree. 
  Twilight carried us, high up
                  a Manila moon,
Casting its glint ...we were eternal as time
            Throttling  off with endless schemes --

One by one, the petals bathed us 
                With a dewy scent of affection...
      Until  pile of leaves caught 
             Our laughter snuffed by thieving winds--
   And you fell on a mantle of reeds 
             Chilled  freezing from 
                          a final sense of unknowing :

I remember... that was  two decades ago 
                When all the flowers bowed 
           As You and I  parted as  pale shadows,

    When love's vow of forever 
            melted like trickles of clay...

Premium Member Old Warrior

As one who’s walked in darkness I can say:
Avoid, my son, the paths that I have trod.
For, though you may believe yourself a god,
The truth is not something you wish away.

The day I first strapped on this sheath and sword,
I never could envision where I’d end.
As overheated steel will break and bend,
Each forward step led me to my reward.

In battle glorious I made my name.
The flames of war burned off what might be weak.
I fought and killed with well-practiced technique
And earned, I thought, the bounties of such fame.

For fortune and for glory I would hunt.
And all across the globe for war I’d quest.
Each bloody battle just another test
To see if it would sharpen or would blunt

The weapon I was turning out to be;
It was not just my sword that could cause harm;
But all of me, heart and brain, hand and arm
Could cause as much destruction equally.

And every wound that to my foe I’d give
Unknowing back upon me would rebound.
‘Twas only so much later that I found
The man who deals out death can’t really live.

Gaze, my son, upon these many scars.
Imagine, if you can, each injury.
Not all were given by an enemy
But rather the desires of my heart.

Broken now, I lie here through the years
Unable anymore to freely move.
Perhaps I just resent the need to prove
That all the pain will never cause me tears

In darkness have I walked and now I live
If living is indeed what you would name
This sad existence filled with sin and shame
That I fear even God cannot forgive.

For you, my son, I offer but advice:
Try to find the hope to rise above
The hate I’ve lived, and learn at last to love;
The path that might lead you to Paradise.
Form: Rhyme

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