Long Accuses Poems
Long Accuses Poems. Below are the most popular long Accuses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accuses poems by poem length and keyword.
Deep down she feels like a dirty trampled piece of paper
Tossed from one merciless dervil to the hand of another
Parading herself scantily clad the cold numbing reality
Sometimes she begs to be bought a drink from her clients
Inebriated she is able to overlook her soul which accuses
Sometimes she does pray – Lord do have mercy her ways
The city authorities regard her as a vermin of the society
Constant harassment is her way of life for they are sworn
Never to legalize her trade never accept hew way of life
Sweetheart darling dear and all terms of love and endearment
Are hers to use to lure the willing and partly willing to her bed
The price negotiated and payment upfront lest she is fleeced
The pain and the anger invading your heart
could be overwhelming and tear you apart.
You choke on emotion, you feel it arise,
It comes unrelenting to moisten the eyes.
Alone and bewildered, there’s no one at hand
to bring you some comfort, who would understand.
There are no illusions; you hope and you try
but when there’s no answer you ask only why.
You dwell on the sweetness of long tender kiss
the nights filled with passion and all that you miss
but now there is nothing to brighten your days
your heart still accuses in so many ways.
You should have stayed faithful; you should have confessed
Instead you were seen being kissed and caressed.
You pleaded for tender compassionate grace
But all that remains are these tears on your face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Callman (Callus & Manassian) Collaboration
Satan said I am a sinner, a rebellious individual
God also accuses me of sins. But who is not that?
I just think God and Satan aren’t right. Yes, yes
They know humans are not saints. Only mortals
Why were we created for mortals? For sinners?
God created us straight away for guilty mortals
God created angels and saints. For innocents!
Of course. Hmm. Creations made the differences
Could this be discrimination? Hmm. This is fate
Okay. The individual got a life, but some of…
You can see the word, the life. Oh, life is a teacher
You're given special life. Say thanks to the creator
You can enjoy your life in the alleys among rats
You can feel an enjoyable life in an ultra city, like Dubai
Your life is incredible, amazing. Say thank you to God
Okay, I know the answers. Hindu yogis will say “karma!”
I will answer this: “There was no difference between,
Between Cain and Abel.” God made it, and for sinner Cain
The question is, why? Answer: Test. And start the process
The life and history of humanity. Yes. I feel life for a theatre
For a very difficult planned and unplanned system. It’s that
We are here because the big builder of the world needs us
To create his art, he draws on new eras, ages, and civilizations
Hmm, so we are colleagues of the creator in his company
God created the universe and all the living creatures, and
And human. Because God was lonely alone. Hmm. Yes
We can’t live without God. God can create without us
“God can create without humans, but he won't give love.
I mean the mind to understand his great work and life.
He gives you a mind, like god’s, to create, enjoy his life.”
“Satan, I understand your explanation, but what about suffering?”
“Suffering, suffering… Do you know what that is? Demon Vilmos.
Suffering is only an answer, a sign of a present of your life.”
“Really?! Then why turned my love into panic, fear, and pain?”
“Oh, that English lady from the train. Forget, past, illusion.
Way is given, follow the path. You are a builder of the plan!”
“Hmm, you look like a despotic conservative teacher.”
“Oh, really? Just remember, please, what your religion teacher said.
He said: Who are you?! Do you want to tell God what to do?!! He is the boss!
Not you!!!”
“The world is full of bosses,” I noted
“There is only one.” Said Satan
I was born underwater with lungs oversized,
With gills immature in a world full of smog,
I'm filling petition to be cauterized,
And end other chapter in life’s fragile log.
I was born black and white with extremities gray,
The plaintiff accuses what I might hide,
It's nothing but SOUL constantly at play,
With spoonfuls of turquoise rolling down off life's slide...
Implosion of rainbows will probably be
The cause of my passing unknown and alone.
When thrown overboard and deep into sea
I'll finally return to my home long time gone...
I've moved in a place with no windowless chamber,
Where time has no meaning and waiting is painless,
If I had any hopes, I swear - don't remember...
And don't recognize him, his sorrow is senseless.
I have died underwater, reborn in blue nights,
Don't need oxygen to play with the whales.
Remember when watching those great Northern Lights
That Mother is smiling behind Nature’s veils.
for Constances contest "Mother"
Badgered In Baltimore
Dear Blabby,
My bride of forty-five years has a cow whenever she suspects me of catting around. She calls me a little weasel and a snake in the grass. I try to answer, but I'm ordered to clam up. She's such a pest, asking me all the time about my sheepish grin.
Blabby, it hurts when she calls me a leach and a sloth just because I choose not to work. She complains that while she’s a busy as a bee all day long, I’m just a degenerate wolf, hitting on dumb bunnies every night. She says I’m an ape and am as dumb as an ox. She accuses me of treating our marriage like it was a lark. She screams at me, calling me an ass and a cheating rat.
Yesterday I really lost it. I told her that I was not some dirty, mangy dog. I called her a shrew and that I was a scapegoat in her kangaroo court.
Blabby, why must she be so catty? She’s a prying old bloodhound. Should I simply tell her to bug off?
Just now my wife called me a slimy worm. She says my behavior lately seems very fishy. She accuses me of having a whale of a time while we’ve become as poor as church mice. The worst part is that, in order to pay our rent, we’re forced to look for a loan shark.
Blabby, I’m afraid my goose is cooked. She’s threatening to stone me to death! What am I to do?
Badgered in Baltimore
Dear Badgered,
When the rocks start flying—Duck!
7/26/22
In the year of 1967 I was a freshman
In high school in a small Midwest Iowa town.
Before teachers cared about bullying
and goofy stuff like kids’ feelings
We were not allowed to have them anyway back then
The gym teacher was snippy and mean.
Pinched nose, hair teased and sprayed
With enough hairspray to choke us all to death
She had beady eyes. I do not recall the color.
Never happy, snippy usually.
Cindy and Susie were always the basketball captains.
They were the giraffes of our class.
They chose us one at a time from a line.
My twin and I and our friend Debbie were always the last to be picked.
When they got to us, they always had a huge argument about who had to take us.
“You can have them!”
“No, you take them.”
If we had gone home
whining about it, our
parents would have laughed.
These days, if a child accuses another child of looking at her wrong,
Mommy, Daddy and Grandma come up, packing loaded pistols.
Broken Wing
Poignant letter torn by the force of a hand in anger
Accuses and it wounds unfounded fraudulent emotions
Shadow in fragments crying with neither sound nor motion
Yearn to extinguish the paroxysm of enmity and retribution
Love mend broken wing then gently soar to overpower
A harbinger of ravaging heartaches and misfortunes
Penned: 07/12/2016
5:20 a.m.
West palm Beach
Florida USA
Standing in the garden, as I listen to the sound of the fluttering humming birds
Touch of Spring memories linger in the air as I stand at a complete loss for words.
Taste of wild honey from bumble jumbo honey bees
Romancing the palette of my mouth as I enjoy the sweet summer breeze.
Burst of colorful hues camp around me with all of nature’s natural creation
Beauty at its best without any flaw or abrasion.
Destroy the garden
Without sorrow nor pardon
Feel not pity and have no mercy
Excuses shouldn’t take no curtsy!
Excuses are solely mere lies
Clothed in deceptional disguise!
O how we nestle and cradle excuses drifted by the breeze
Constructing for them a nesting place in the hammock by the trees.
We crave honesty from others
Yet, hold tightly to excuses as if they were our brothers!
Care no more to build your excuses a rocking cradle
For those excuses will prove to be, someday, fatal
To self and others in the future – unforeseen –
To your goals – to your visions – and even your dreams!
Tear down the Garden of Excuses you have built
Let it all wither, dry and wilt
Make no more habitats until your excuses find a new lodging place
And stop yourself from advocating the case
So that you continue to harbor fictitious excuses
‘Lest you lock your garden gates to truth when it accuses!
How many dreams unreached?
How many goals have been breached?
How many visions never seen?
How many achievements achieved with spleens
As your excuses lay-on back
Retaining nothing but an empty sack
Cradled and nestling in your garden’s court
Delegating and demanding truth to abort?
Tear down the garden
Let your heart and mind harden
Without mercy nor pardon
Excuses are but lies deserving not your courtesy
For all excuses bring you nothing but malicious fallacies…•
Fairest and prettiest of all queens, you're never faithful to your king whose hands
barely touch your luscious lips that others secretly kiss;
and you meet them in an empty dungeon to satisfy your urges of lover,
not honoring those vows blessed by that priest who sprinkled Holy Water.
In the prime of your youth, you were given in marriage
for an exchange of great wealth by a father so greedy and heartless
who sought his interest, refusing to admit you were of a tender age;
and he brings his gifts to appease a king who won't demote his rank of prince.
Loyal maids know each secret and arrange your meetings with another knight,
keeping a watchful eye, and they would warn you if they heard footsteps;
naked and screaming, enjoying the ecstasy of lustful lover...wishing it would be night,
to forget the lack of everything: from sensual kisses to warm caresses.
Does guilt ever accuses your conscience of wrongdoing,? No, you seek revenge
by having continuous affairs with knights who have more sexual drive than an old king.
the Irony meter gasket
is blown again and again
with every statement
of our chaos president
and his endless surrogates
promoting the latest Presidential
on spot guidance by our great leader
that must be true
because our dear leader
says it is so
The President accuses his democratic rival
of being senile and needs to be in home
and will be run by his radical left allies
and the right wing media
echoes the presidential absurd comments
refusing to acknowledge
that the president himself
is rapidly fading into dementia
and his radical right cronies
are looting the government
driving out expertise
even in the midst of pandemic
Oh yeah the irony meters
are blowing gaskets
every single day