Long Verbal Poems
Long Verbal Poems. Below are the most popular long Verbal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Verbal poems by poem length and keyword.
I think you would have found sociology agreeable.
The chapters jump right into the heart of the matter and do not cause you to stray wondering--spelled with an 'o' not an 'a'--as 'stray' would have clued you in, ... and I wouldn't suggest psychology.
Why not? You'd pass out in the hallway fronting the classroom door. You're still young enough, and you should give sociology the benefit of your doubt to its full measure.
Why did you tell me--back to school, me, I mean I'm not like you. Jane stop. Don't measure me to you, but measure yourself owned outright--firstly, by not putting yourself down.
Why sociology? Because of your verbal reactions to my points relating to the matter.
Yours is one of wonder--again spelled with an 'o,' you'll quickly learn how not to swim endlessly in a goldfish bowl wandering--with an 'a,' going from end to end realizing no corners that would bear points, reasons going in a circled bowl, wondering, now with an 'o,' of an open ocean, and endless swims each bearing a point of interest to a goldfish, who's now left to wander----------with an 'a'-----------smart girl.
The goldfish scenario is a hopeful suggestion, unlike Clint's objectives. Why say it like that? Well, I'm flattered ... to be used, Jane!
And, I am not placing that vacant ruse in the brevity of our encounter, for I am including you Jane, and the five times that fellow workers made that arduous journey to your Shang-Gri-La invitee and our office poor water cooler, ... had to cool down.
That Sociology book, though it's been a few years, it should still be in use or at least in circulation, that is, if you pass on the sitting purview.
Anthropoid history books
typically assume seeking sheltered safety at night
and healthy development by day,
although not unique to humane natured value systems,
are morally
and legally
and culturally significant
only as humanly experienced/not experienced.
What does set us apart,
morally
and legally
and politically
and economically
and culturally,
in addition to left-hemisphere verbal dominance,
is not our cooperatively healthy/safe
Great EarthChain Climate
of co-empathic win/win becoming
co-arising restorers of Earth EcoMatriarchal Justice
appreciating some high and deep quality
of Patriarchal Peace
potentially anticipating CoEmpowerment
and EcoPolitical EnLightenment,
less "human nature only need apply"
bright white
straight male light
privileged.
I believe this historically significant assumption
that all living
hearted
breathing day-time conscious creatures
do not necessarily seek safe sacred night shelter
and healthy daytime regenerative wealth co-investments
is necessary
to block cognitive/affective dissonance
about our outrageously anthropocentric
morally and legally undemocratic
disenfranchising
divesting hubris,
Out left-hemisphere predative sense of being exclusively "chosen"
Creator's gift to sacred Earth,
to use as suits
our left-hemisphere "humane/divine"
natured/spirited purpose,
to exploit,
to prey upon
our own safe nighttime sensed Earth eco-shelter,
To aggress,
verbally and non-verbally,
illegally and immorally,
against our own potential daytime healthy
compassionately communing
wealthy ego/eco-bicameral
multiculturing Creations
Images empowering
and disempowering,
Memories enlightening
and intuitively safe
within non-violent
EarthFeminist
restoring EarthJustice Peace
at least at full-moon
warm breezed night.
Earth's green/blue healthy healing climate
Some LeftBrain emergent verbal singers
and dancers
felt as resonant Gaian EarthMother health
for rebirth re-connection
reweaving
Reconceived
empowered and bilaterally enlightened
benign winds of ecofeminist
local EarthMatriotic
community domestic
democratic
typically extra-familial fertile polycultural
Regenerative health global-systemic
benignly viral GoldenRule revolutions
inseminating
TrueWealth Win/Win NonViolent EarthCommunications
InBetween Both/And nuanced thought/felt dialogue
for win/win co-emergent
dipolar co-arising choices
Preferably not quite so unawesomely
sacred/sensory Either/Or bipolar
affective anxiety preconceptions
overpowering eco/ego-logically indigenous
green polytheistic cooperative reconceiving
re-birthing
reverse time re-membering
re-connecting
re-ligioning Truth/Beauty Ancient Gaian HealingMercy
We're All On This Sacred Green/Blue Earth
Interdependent MultiCultural Wisdom
Yang+Yin = 1 Universal PolyNomial Intuitive-Indigenous
NonZero-CoEfficient CoPassionate LeftBrain EcoLogos
for Unitarian Yin/Yang = (-,-) PreConception not
not also Yang/Yin = Original 1/0 Inception-BiNomialThicket
AnthroCentric LeftHemisphere relearning win/win
compassionate Both/And Ego/EarthHealth
restorative justice polycultural reset
reversing retributive monoculturing win/lose dissociation
Reincarnating local inter-healthfaith community's
most long-term resilient green economic
and ecological
healthy democracy
healthy climate
healthy anthro-public
wealthy all YintegralBeauty/YangTrust
CoPassionate Communing Healthy EarthTribe
protecting
providing for
polyculturally co-investing in
eco-politically green/blue healing
matriotic co-empowering
ecohealth-enlightening
self/other-copassioned lives
Sacredly committed
to at least the next seven regenerations
of a California RedWood Fertile Forest
and a Chinese Bamboo Resiliently Integral
Complexly Cooperative WinWin
Deep MultiCulturally Rooted Thicket.
I know the words you use to slander me.
Your slurs mar your own virtue, not my hue.
You slam to smear cloud fuzz on your heart’s plea
that once upon a joy, sought my “I do.”
We loved with our best try for many years,
We merged a child whose sweet melts both our hearts,
Plus, we shared life’s high feels and lowdown sears.
Our past lacks sense when you throw verbal darts.
Our kind son does not know that pride-wounds speak,
but well knows ache thus aimed by slams you throw.
In time, our child will view your mind as weak
and prone to fed truth’s seeds to lies you grow.
You spew sour grapes with each ill voiced broadcast.
Please, spread not tart to false mark our joined past.
... CayCay Jennings
August 18, 2018
howmanysyllables.com
In Gboko, where the dust motes dance and play,
A town, a city, a people, some would say.
What defines its spirit, a riddle, a quest,
With a gait too familiar, putting all to the test.
"Gboko!" he calls, by name, with a grin,
"Seems we're acquainted, where have you been?"
For here, familiar strangers, a curious clan,
Know each other better than any single man.
Party crashers abound, with a joyful shout,
Praise singers serenade, no shadow of doubt.
Fantastic storytelling, a vibrant, grand art,
Where habit and culture play a blurring part.
A bikeman, young, in a change-fueled fray,
Declares, "Woman dey here, food dey here, wetin I dey go find for your place?"
Such pride and contentment, a truth so stark,
In a town once welcoming, now bearing a wary mark.
In hay days of yore, a Tiv capital grand,
An industrial hub, with BCC at hand.
Ivo I msam – the tailed goat lap, a delight,
Ishu I bee nya ke tyo – fish, so perfectly white.
When women, with skill, seasoned chicken with grace,
Before the slaughter, a culinary embrace.
Families flocked in, from the hinterland's call,
For hope and new society, standing proud and tall.
Money flowed freely, like a river so wide,
Vanity and funfare, with nowhere to hide.
On paydays, men painted the whole town in red,
Trays of spiced chicken, till late, they were fed.
Imported lager flowed, in a frothy, grand spree,
And megalomaniacs, grandiloquently,
Would bluster and boast, with a haughty decree,
"Orvesen, m tse u ke kitchen ga!" – Sir, not in your kitchen, you see!
Courteous profanity, a delicate art,
Where titles and greetings played a respectable part.
Before venturing forth, with venom and ire,
To "dress down" their target, a verbal hot fire.
So Gboko gives chase, to the past and the present,
An intriguing weave, both funny and pleasant.
A place of contrasts, of laughter and grit,
Where the spirit of the people, forever is lit.
If I had an IQ of 17,
would this be normal?
My son,
with cerebral palsy,
no language capacity, no LeftBrain ability to read or write
or speak using linguistic tools,
with no hint of verbal or violent dominance issues,
has an angelic peace-loving IQ
in the 17 ballpark
On several behavioral measures of IQ
(does he have a swallow reflex?
Does he flinch
if his toe is pinched
or his foot is tickled?).
For him,
this IQ is normal,
when he’s feeling healthy,
relatively free of trauma
(including social
and political
and economic
and ecological
and theological
and biological, etc.),
Having a good win/win cooperative,
synergetic,
unconditionally warm regarding day.
And, for me,
his IQ seems normal,
or he would not be
the magnificent young man I know
and love
and care for
and listen to,
As he most times sits in silent
(hopeful bliss?)
Yet sometimes roars his verbal agency
to be seen
with unconditional warm regard
and heard with warm and sacred prophecies,
Our indigenous EarthTribe time
will never be less wisdom
than restoring ecojustice
compassionately co-invested
healthy and safe enough
for all organic species.
In a lull, I’m calm in placed in a sleep;
With soothing sounds and movements, that peeks;
"The rhythm of the soothe quiet hush, what a rush”;
Lullaby pauses, that cessation, of my respite hiatus;
In a lull In my lacks of activity, breaks of suspensions;
Lulled deep into lulls, rock to sleep waken agitate, depression;
So in a temporal interval of quiet or lack of activity;
“The rhythm of the clam quiet hush, what a rush”;
In Lull quiet storms, diminished winds, no quails just hush;
So noticeable guess I just in a lull, while in the calm;
In Lull Hush! You’ll awaken the me non-verbal;
Quietly the lee is submitting peace unnoticed;
In Lull Similar intervals, quiet peaks of risen heights;
Quiet storm, diminished winds, no quails just hush;
"The rhythm of the soothe quiet hush, what a rush”;
Soft and cool, breezes succeeding to, put me to sleep;
In Lull keeps my dreams, my quiet heart dreams relief;
Midday nap, helped to reviles me, quiet songs keeps me dreaming;
With soothing sounds, of movements, that peeks;
"The rhythm of the soothe quiet hush, what a rush”;
In a lull, I’m calm in placed, in a gleeful lull;
3/10/20
Pick-A-Title, Vol 14 - Tristich - Poetry Contest
Tristich poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh |
Title picked #3. A Lull 2020©
We are much alone when old,
after lifetimes of accompaniment,
of tacit support and connection
from our friends and peers.
Must I now label as mental failing
sometime strange behaviors I exhibit?
These are a consequence of long living,
result in my speaking to the air, to myself and
to my beloved pets. No one else is around.
This becomes habitual. I explain that it is
only to retain my sanity, ability to speak,
to think, to hone skills of artful conversation,
of facile verbal composition.
Although silence may be soothing
or oppressive, calming or profoundly
disturbing, pets are a great comfort --
though they sometimes underscore
and magnify lack of human interaction.
Loneliness is a sad consequence
of aging, intensifying losses, magnifying
declining mental agility, dulling consciousness
of changes in behavior. To fill empty hours,
to calm fears, to feel at peace, welcome
the company and affection of pets.
Treat them as deserving beloved ones.
We should protect, support, preserve them.
They are as central to our lives
as we are to theirs.
Falling back together refulgent
it’s like we are courting again;
Eyes lively we are so content
tipsy with the renewed passion;
I would like to stay here a while,
rapturous;
Fractal love true and pure
our connection remains the same;
An old close up or new adventure
we complete this frame;
Time may pass but the design
does not change;
If we weren’t destiny I would sit
pensive and let confusion ruin me;
Have it tear up my stomach and spit;
Instead I swallow calmly;
Peaceful with knowledge,
I’m rapturous;
Selenite tears madly sparkle
setting off the light of a smile;
conversation more than verbal
tends to render me immobile;
With the silence frozen solid,
peace is our love language;
Flamboyant and outlandish
our affection again a red rose;
The rekindling of just one wish
back and forth our energy flows;
The petals mimic us rapturous;
fevered colors don’t fade;
Engulfing the raw essence
it doesn’t take a long touch;
Passion like a hot furnace,
really you do not need much;
We are connected again
speaking so loudly without words;
Reaching to take hold of your hand
harnessing this defining moment;
So much more than we planned,
falling back together resplendent;
I would like to stay here a while,
rapturous.
This eulogy is glued-together CliffsNotes.
Summing up his eighty-two years.
Only the happy tones are used.
Nothing about the blackout drinking rampages.
The black and blue spouse and children.
That affair with the babysitter.
The push down the pregnant stairs.
The many sudden clacks and clangs
Those strange pangs in the darkness.
On this day, it's only the happy stuff being spewed.
The big pink clumps of cotton candy and clown flowers
The wonderful puffs of funeral parlor smoke.
The fabric of a superhero unveiled.
Many of us sitting here know the truth.
He was no superhero; he was a super monster-
A complete waste of cells and formaldehyde.
We wait patiently for this verbal charade to burn itself out.