Long Aborted Poems
Long Aborted Poems. Below are the most popular long Aborted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aborted poems by poem length and keyword.
My pen was out drINking all night
AT the PENthouse club on Ball Point street
I had been out at a club called the Ballad delight
My pen had been locked up for public INKtoxication
Without even being read his "writes"
He needed to go to INKaholics anonymous after I finished this write
I hurried down to the Paper Mate jail
To see if I could post his bail
We finally got started
But his speech began to slur
I had to finish this write before I departed
Now my pen said his vision was blurred
Withot warning, he started throwing up
my paper canvas was now a total mess
I went to the kitchen and poured whiskey into a tea cup
My pen was a INKaholic, I must confess
When I thought it was all over
This rowdy pen pulled a six pack from under the book cover
My poem was aborted because my pen needed a drink!
Now I had writers block, I couldn't think
Next time he got locked up I would leave him in the CLINK!!
For: Elliott's Drunken Pen contest
By: Joseph May
We drank cheap beer in a rusted-out shed.
Buzzing before our 8:00 AM English class.
Trying to be cool- to fit in with the "Ins."
Instead, we're becoming the wobbling outcasts.
Spinning further out from the golden Ins.
Ah, the golden center.
Filled with jocks, cheerleaders.
A chorus line of silver thighs and golden pom poms.
Smirking at my pimpled insecurities?
But your long bomb popularity didn't stop that tree.
From slamming into your popularity.
It didn't move aside as you passed by.
Like I used to move aside as you passed by me.
You were popular in that narrow hallway of slow death called adolescence.
Now your football helmet is yellow and cracked.
Destined for a garage sale. Bottom shelf existence.
At the very center of long forgotten.
You with the pom poms and patented dimples.
Nowhere near that cocky cute kitten anymore.
Turned plump, pregnant, abandoned, aborted.
What happened to that sweet cotton tail and golden lips?
That used to pip "you'll never be with me".
Finally, after forty-plus years.
You're lying with me...figuratively.
Spread eagle atop pom pom mountain.
An outcast on the periphery of everything.
"Soullessness"
In this time…In this life…in this place…we have no showed
Under a blanket of blankness without thanks…we have no souls
Living’s a mere image cuz what we’ve witnessed is not real
Aborted the birth of a world… for a world we keep but can’t feel
There’s a place for us…we’ve paved the way…it’s in hell and it’s happening
Don’t cry when you get there…cuz on the way you were laughing
Enjoyed the rotten fruits flesh and knawed on bones of fallen rightousness
Forgot just to forget cuz that’s the path to your enlightenment
Hear but don’t care …follow the leaders of your death squad
Fear cuz your there…without a memory of what life was
We eat from a dumpster and piss ina bowl
Then run for the cover thinking it’s all under control
Smile when lieing…and…make money to feel free
Giggle under ya breath people…but it ain’t funny to me
In this time…in this life…in this place we have no showed
Under a blanket of blankness…without thanks we have no souls
Form:
On April 26, 1992 a baby boy was born to parents that did not want him. The parents chose to not abort, instead of terminating his life in the womb, they gave him up for adoption. Adopted he was loved and had wonderful parents that cared and nurtured him through his upbringing. Because two wonderful human beings cared for this young man, he grew up to be a role model for other Kids, in a generation where Heroes are needed to be looked up to, in a dark world that we are living in today. This young man did not succumb to drugs, crime, or hate. He stood out like a beacon of light and hope for those less fortunate in those evil environments. He was an overcomer to say the least. The one in a million Lottery ticket winner, if you will. Sadly he could have been an aborted statistic but God had other plans for this young man. At 30 years old he was 6ft 7 inches tall, 282 lbs. He beat the world record for homeruns in a single season without using drugs, or steroids, he accomplished this with hard work and training, and dedication. He is on par to win one of Baseball's greatest Honors, the Triple Crown. He could be the greatest player to play baseball of all time, but more importantly the life he has led, overshadows his abilities as a baseball player. He is what Heroes are made of. It all started with a Couple's love to adopt. Yes, my friends, the Hero I am referring to is America's greatest baseball player Aaron Judge. The story doesn't end there. For there are Five Heroes here. They are the original parents that chose to spare his life and give him up for adoption. They are Patty and Wayne Judge who opened their homes and hearts to raise a lovely son for the world to appreciate and love. Aaron leads by example. In all of the darkness in this world, God gave us a Light to see and appreciate through Aaron Judge...
Michael Tor
Inspired by Don Baron's article.
Dedicated to all baseball fans,
Yankee fans, and my brother
Gus for his love of Baseball.
Light a candle
Go on a vigil
Put a handle
On Twitter if you will
Say your piece
Grab sound-bytes
Find release
In media fights
Then off to a cocktail
To talk of your deed
Bemoan of happenings
As you drink up your mead
And when some time passes
Look up a cause
Think of starving masses
As you pour on the sauce
Such and such needs justice
Our liberty’s at stake
Set right what’s amiss
Just give them your take
Light another candle
Bask in its light
For brief is its mantle
As it fades overnight.
Through the times I’ve seen
Days of thunder and noise
Each cause a has-been
Aborted child of media’s choice
~26 Jul 2016~
In the presence of all to see, her world turns
and runs red with the blood of her children:
Blood flowing like a wandering stream.
The bloated bellies of surviving youth
mock aborted pregnancies of liberty;
and her once luscious breasts now sag
in union with the sinking faces of lost hope.
Lost hope---disappearing like solitary
ghost smoke of abandoned fires;
abandoned fires---dying in waning time.
Hollowed red eyes of fleeing lovers look backward
onto the wholeness of nothing---smiling death
sitting and waiting on the coming feast.
Though the heartbeat of hope struggles
through the valleys of shadows of death, she
must yet believed that God has not forgotten her;
Indeed, it’s yet believed that in the midst of the ethnic genocide
in her Dante-like hell, this wretched mother---clinging to time
and its history---will once again experience the restoration
of her Pan-African unity and great African glory.
A great glory of continental liberation
sown in the brave hearts and liberated minds
of her children who---scattered throughout her lands
as well as in Diaspora---will eventually bring to fruition.
Remember, wherever you are, Mother Africa is;
and you’re indeed, her liberating children---
Umbilical bound to restore her collective glory.
America
Can I apologize, I'm sorry I was born here
America
I apologize cause there's so many religions
America
I apologize for the color of my skin
America
Who are you, better look in the mirror
America
You used to be a nurturer
America
But do you really now care bout us
America
You started out on God's rules, laws and principles
Now your muddle demonized denominations
America
So many death unwanted and aborted babies
America
What's it all for maybes
America
Do you really love me
Do you want to control me or console me
America
We were created a melting pot
Now huh! I'm wondering when you gonna legalize pot?
America
This is not " marijuana " what I want I've never, ever touch the stuff!
America
I find it strange that it's so, so, so very easy (if you want it)to obtain
America
You think, no I know that back in the beginning of our rising
We were all together and on one accord a village together We raised our children
America
Is this genocide what someone (America) Where are all my Indian brothers and sisters
America
You better look back
You better repent
We only have so many days left
America
you all that I know
I've never ever been off your shores
But America
I am ashamed
That you don't love me I'm just a number and you don't even know my name
Even with some great and goodness, even with all the hatred and negatives
I forgive you, I still love you
God please forgive her,
America
09/18/17
Dedicated to ALL nationalities' all races
Their Blood Cries
Jealous Cain killed Abel his brother,
piercing the heart of Eve, their mother.
When Cain to hide his deed had tried,
Abel’s blood from earth’s bowels cried.
Cruel tyrants, deranged despots,
have murdered victims by the lots.
Wars aplenty claimed so many,
innocents’ blood from earth’s bowels cries.
Senseless violence vies for victims,
spilling blood like water, on a whim.
The blood of voiceless ones aborted,
with Abel’s blood from earth’s bowels cry.
Then there are the myriad martyrs,
murdered for their religious faith.
Be they Christians, Hindus, Muslims,
their blood from earth’s bowels cry.
Slavery claimed the lives of millions,
while the enslavers earned their billions.
The innocent blood of these victims
with Abel’s blood from earth’s bowels cry.
The ceaseless cries of countless millions,
from the earth to heaven ascend.
Cries for vengeance still a coming,
since Abel’s blood started crying.
Jealous leaders slew the Savior,
sent by God to bring them salvation.
His blood does not cry out for vengeance
but offers forgiveness instead.
One day soon the longed-for vengeance,
will be served with righteous justice,
by the one who died to save those,
who seek and receive his forgiveness.
Inspired by Bruce Dickinson song " Tears Of The Dragon"
In the fervent sky my yearning songbird soars high,
glides in the rippling amorous breeze
that wafts your fragrance to me,
until the splitting storm surges in,
crushes the wings of longing that can no longer fly.
The crippled bird folds up the collapsed wings,
painfully wrinkled like the fallen wilted leaves,
drifting in the niche of my mangled mind
that turns into a ruined nest,
made of the shattered stems of emotion.
In the winter of frosty stillness
the singing bird becomes silent,
its aborted flight of abandoned passion
could no longer find the sparkling sky.
Tears freeze in the blue crevasse of glacial gloom,
the congealed pain of my broken heart
lies behind the secret door of the mind.
My time flows from the clasp of the present
to the sea of memory spreading onto the past,
I drown in despair for I can’t fly to the horizon
to see the sunrise in the scarlet sky of the new dawn.
When the frightened mind lurks
in the dark depth to feel the contours of soul’s insignia
at the bottom of the deep sea that engulfs me,
I fail to discern where the stream I cry flows to lie
across the wrecked shore of the crumpled mind.
My broken heart bleeds at the deepest sore,
open wound of despair gets flooded in the core
by the torrent of tears of the dragon at sea.
As the splinters of memory sink in emotion deep
from the demon of fearful pain I try to flee.
NineTs and One step were defined by the Law as they saw it.
As to remain hidden a knowledge so they spun it and again a quarter turn
to ensure us, Care of the Keepers, in Time we trust.
Regardless of the challenges given us, there are knowing eyes in the Universe....
Watching Time as we translate to Cure.sive. There is purpose, a pure save in a hidden cave
and soon we'll come to know this. They wrote in the stones to show it. Created earthly tones
in a row for us.
A record of bones, but the knowledge of a men aborted, when a calculated error reported
that Time was to fast. Meant to repeat an error of past was the rumor they wrote in a Book.
This was observed when the Dead came to Look. And so they stayed. Made note of the Day and
a beat was created in rhyme. Then aLion was drawn as the fabric of Time leaving open a
door, in the magic sands.
There she stands. Great Sphinx on the land holding a tomb in the palm of her hand. Waiting
patiently as we learn to understand. Looking ever aware through Time and the Space left
there. Guarding ever with care a color of horizon in the depths of Her stare.
She stood through the troubles of Earth, guarding our knowledge of the bubbles we thirst.
And to guard a womb She appeared on first to brighten our Moon, a living creature of Life
that shines in the Knight shes known.
Pi.Man was left a trail of crumbs. And so, four are the message, sublime we spun and came
undone the knowledge of a rhyme. As given in Love, we're here to play.... for the Over Time.
For the four you fear, know another Four here...
We're the Ones who drew a Line and the Rose was given in the sky to remind.
Jupiter, set to protect.
And SO shall be awake, is the Father.
Form: