Long Well intentioned Poems

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


Premium Member What Is Real

Scriptures speak to us in riddles
Relying upon esoteric symbols 
They may be well intentioned
But it’s time this truth is mentioned 
That addressing mind, invoking fear
Guilt of imagined sin begins to sear
Plunging our mind in deep confusion
Spontaneity lost, fearing retribution 

Something’s rotten in the religious setup
For unless soma nectar flows into our cup
We feel incomplete and shortchanged 
Separated from source, from love estranged 

Ceasing thinking, abandoning all knowing
In stillness feeling, gentle breeze flowing
We embrace and release each life impulse 
Consciousness expands, everywhere at once
Divine entwined, one with the universe
Having vaporised, there’s nothing to rehearse
Bliss throbs within, ignites our central vein
In fullness of rapture, we are free from stain

Undoubtedly senses five and mind have their use
Yet is not overindulgence in illusion akin to abuse
The inner polarities of our sentience are dormant 
Yet it’s from within that sparks, the bliss current

It matters not ancient words etched on stones 
If it’s real, we must feel it deep within our bones

31-March-2022
Form: Rhyme


Being Liked

People seem to take to me
and like me

Something i do not or can't
understand

However well intentioned be that
even based on pitty and sorry

As personally i myself 

Can not abide the thought of
my own company

As i think and speak of only thing's
that steal the will to live

And could make a divorce willing
to give her cheating no good ex
a second chance

I hate the sound of my own
voice so much so

I'd rather cut all the grass in
central park in a mid- winter
blizzard with a pair of scissor

Wearing nothing but high heels
and crotchless women's undies

If i was the last person left on
planet earth i'd plug my ears
and take a wow of silence

Premium Member Brother Whosoever

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To a dog, an empty hand's cause 
even a well-intentioned one
flinches an involuntary jaw.. 
your neighbor's just the same.

Have you grown leery the open palm?
wearied away as your brother's keeper.
Not responsible to his good name
nor good will as guarded trustee 
over your godchildren.

No blame to you, good sir
or madam-

No right or wrong
by royal decree
monastic or fiduciary..
nor heavy handed scepter
to wield 
relinquished or relished
as monarchal beneficiary.

Just the same, I 
in fealty or name
skeptically question  
right from wrong.. 
guilty as charged
all the day long. 

Often what I read and I see, 
some people scare me
put in my brother's shoes
I probably would too.
Form: Rhyme

A Humble Stranger

Jogging on the roadside,  
With my friends at my side. 
He moves every inch with us... 
I almost forget we were four. 
Seeing him as one; we discuss
Along the line to the very core
Before I knew he was a stranger, 
He has turned out a humble words exchanger.

"What's your name?"
He asked diligently. 
"What's your aim?"
I replied bluntly. 
I know you feel dismayed. 
Notwithstanding, I am for peace. 
So; be unafraid, 
Set aside your earpiece  
And give ears to me, 
My words with a straight face.

Pasting all the copied pleasant words
Into my ears like songs of birds
Pleasing to the heart every dawn of the day, 
Hardly could I get away from his voice culture 
Painting itself raw on the blank vacant space of my mind
Loom up with the best attar of roses. 
Allover me again and again till my withered flowers grow kind. 
Considering him a different vulture 
Not to feed on carrion and fly away 
Coming up roses with bared teeth for another tease...

But I sensed he would love it a game 
Or see me behind the times--
Telling him I will think well of it
So that he won't see it as endgame.  
Though, the well-intentioned untruth, I've a heart-stirring permit 
Of one's own free will beyond wildest dreams 
And set a match to my pun 
As we smile and stun

Through the narrow hole of my ears, 
His running thought beautifies the flowering moment. 
Through the shady words in cool paints, 
Filling the widened path to hold my breath. 
Where sunny days hid afar in our accoutrements, 
The hot weather foaming to worm the family birth... 
If we won't only do it for fun and disappear
Between the thin lines of complaints.

Someone I never think of, 
Is now the reason I uncontrollably laugh. 
For the silent moment easily pictures, 
His unrelenting acts decently packaged  which bathe me 
Romantically thinking of our future, 
Praying and working to make it be 
The richly blessed one absorbed in friendship. 
Down the line against all hardships.

Yet, for all these 
I never let go of laughter 
Whenever I remember 
The awesome pictures of all the tease 
You planted into my head 
And the zeal of beads around my waist well thread. 
In which I film 
You as the humble stranger 
Who purposefully endanger 
Peace of love into my dream
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Stock Market Drivel

Torrid sunshine blisters reign on pavement,
that colour coded coffee stain slipway,
bearer of insole-laden footwear,
open source channel for glib hot air calculus  from starchy social climber, stock market drivel flies off tongue,
strolling human morph blasé with pin pad digit  as foundation.  
Monumental science, deep seat hi tech driver,
 gigabyte trencherman data daze diet.
Brain spur gourmet chew astride.
Former high  school swot an Eiffel Tower skyline ace thrust  upon a  thrill weaver gold rush,
never found but one can always dream.
YouTube zeitgeist earthling
has this inner sense of being  from another planet,
 this quaint fast lane time zone voyageur.
Like house trained pets they watch their  owner grudgingly abandon sham control.
Wafer thin leash a scrimshaw ornament. 
 The plot thickens but somehow comes undone,
bit part player yearns holistically for untangled bits with interlocking  act,
 in depth scene dialogue now bill topper  if only it would last.
They long for blue flag coast escape, 
homely hide out guest house fringe found loitering perniciously or otherwise.
Birdhouse green leaf copycat 
assembly for well intentioned like minds that rarely think alike unless it suits.
Caught between ephemeral impasse and amber moon orb dalliance, their noble quest waylay but an out of date signage in urgent need of reinvention.


Sands of Renewal

I have been a sieve bucket
Of shiny plastic parts,
Containing reasonable sands of logic, time and place-
Drastically mixed with the fluidity of natural human race,
And oddly and inconveniently, a subspace
For an awkwardly large heart.

Why has its energy, connective and warm, 
Imploded my zone of comfort? 
Its vibrations teemed my walls, exploited my woes
Which till now have composed me quite conveniently
In perfect shell form?

I have molded realities into peaks and castles, 
Beautiful for a brief moment as life’s own art,
Yet crumbling too soon into shackles-
The sand’s plans (though well intentioned) 
Never seem to properly span across
This aforementioned large heart?

I have ignored its pulsing cries of recognition, 
Smashed its value to the depths of nothingness
To breach partitions of Universal fate’s recipe 
For flow and season in forced perfection;
Yet muddied and worn, wretched and torn,
It still giggles and glows-
Defying all logical reason.

In anguish I have begged, dear heart, for disintegration!
Why do you lay idle in seeming nonchalance?
Why have you not flooded these holes of my soul 
And flowed out to which creation compels me?

Will Love and light ever overflow my muddy plastic half?
I smugly wait and listen in demand of a response!

A few beats, a laugh.

You shine upon me for a quiet moment, wretchedly glistening.
Have I dared to set aside my fear and gain the courage to finally listen?
The message you have needed to convey
Resonates to me quietly,
In recognition of my soul’s ambition:
“Why don’t you merely give me away?”

A simple response, I answer in action (in giving to you, my true):
For I begin building my fate only from today;
Creating with purpose and satisfaction, 
Eternally anew.

Premium Member Fifa World Cup 2023

For two weeks, at all hours, I watched FIFA games
Familiarizing myself with all the players' names
But I won't be viewing the World Cup anymore
after the favored U. S. team was unable to score

Too much drama was promoted, so it would seem
over not singing the National Anthem, but I'd deem
their focus was on winning, as I think it should be
and not on patriotic agendas, "My country tis of thee."

A penguin (mascot) waddles so he can't play football
If he had tried, he'd have stumbled and taken a fall
Not once did I hear his name, Tazunis, mentioned
I don't think that slight of him was well intentioned

The U.S. team was defeated by Sweden in overtime
Their goalie, Zecira Musovic, played a game sublime
Time after time her heroic efforts prevented a score
No goals had been made, but the game was not a bore

U.S. women won the first tourney game by one goal
but wouldn't "Do it Again" and lost their favorite role
They didn't play, "Beyond Greatness," not even close
It was time they fly home and to Australia say, "Adios."
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Escaping

One word
Like a black cat
Prowling on a starless night
Sneaks past my notice
Quiet and still and
Unobserved
Escaping from my well-intentioned lips
“Someday”


“We’ll have to get together”
“Yes, soon!”
“Write me when you get there”
“I will!” 
“Don’t be a stranger”
“It’s been too long”
“Here’s my phone number”
“I’ll call – I promise...”
“Someday!”


Every emotion has an enemy
The enemy of joy is “if only I had done it differently…”
The enemy of peace is “what if something bad happens…”
The enemy of spontaneity is “when the time is right…”
The enemy of I love you is
“Someday”
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

My Bones Will Finally Get Their Cloak

Memories are walls
desecrated by graffiti of remembrance

well intentioned people
all around  
and me
playing that „warm rabbit“ game
(take a guess who the rabbit is)

it feels like I'm one of those happy faces on Kerouac's road

I feel like an idiot

it has to feel like that when you deliver a piece of self so other can step on it
even though stepping on it was not intended
but
not knowing what to do with it
they just step on it

when mistake acquires a form of face
leave some words unspoken – they taught me
 
it is nicer to be humanly than fashionably conscious – they taught me

so i just have a message for you: eat ****,
you have devoured all of my cookies anyway so
by academic degree
babbitry of yours couldn't be washed – they failed

when iron clew entangles in your chest
oversleep 
it will go away
it always does – they failed


wrist is accustomed on postponement
and  I have forced expression
for every urbanely pickled photography

that whore karma laid down one nice slap on my cheek
well
on what is left of it 

****

... man is it's evolution



* warm rabbit was notorious practice in jail for political prisoners in Yugoslavia (Goli otok) where when a new prisoner came prison guards would forced prisoners  to line up in two rows and new prisoner had to walk through and other prisoners were  forced to beat him with any object available until prison guards said it's enough.

Premium Member Davos

I only ask questions
most answers are with
those far wiser than I
far more erudite -- 

whose examples are all around
me:

poisoning of the atmosphere
greed and famine produced
battlefields populated with 
human body parts;

these self evident truths

our bible of survival practices

are the six out of seven

we live daily

less a day of praise and worship -- 

if not to see a better way

than by all means

toss the dice...

7/11, our craps for another
2000 years of soul wagering
play -- 
----------------------------------------------------------

I read so much, from well-intentioned individuals, Christians in particular how we must destroy Satan...crush him, rip out his horns, etc..  Foolish, ill advised folly.  Too much Hollywood and Classical Art.  An over simplification that keeps humanity captives of Evil.  One cannot hurt the Devil, eliminate legions of Satanic forces through like violence.  Evil is pain and suffering.  Flames do not bother dark forces. Destruction is Their form manifestation. They are disease and suffering; they thrive in the tumors of our bodies and souls. The good news is!~ they have no power other than the power we give them, as individuals and a society.  There is only one way of defeating evil, it is splashing evil with Love-light.  Transformation is theirs and our only salvation. They use us as we use them. Separation is an illusion of consciousness.  Evil, earth, mankind are attached at the spiritual hip of lesser ego creation.  Love is the only, ultimate purification. Not easy, I know.  If it were, Christ would have already returned, long ago. Just my opinion, no claim to being an expert on anything.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace