Long Aggressive Poems
Long Aggressive Poems. Below are the most popular long Aggressive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aggressive poems by poem length and keyword.
That ADHD got me judged unfavourably,
impulsive interactions, easily distracted,
attention bouncing behaviour unique to me,
the odd one out and always told
different people, same old...
self conscious suffering from a lack of control,
humiliation on the regular, bad feedback on the whole.
Every decision of mine made aware of,
self worth in decline,
others know the way I’m stood spare lost,
inferior by design
Following leaders who decide what they like,
submissive through need not judged wrong or right,
Go with the flow and fall into line ignoring my life
Accustomed to others wants more important than mine
Meeting demands would please and get thanks,
the responsibility wasn’t on me and not my plan,
Hiding in the herd safe unnoticed, my blanket,
thinking for me, nope that idea vanished
With age people see stature and status,
competitiveness shows us our places
And I follow the leader not to be hated,
But I must play now or be manipulated
Avoiding confrontation unless necessary
Some act aggressive never stressing me,
be submissive like a b**** is just let it be,
but I’m impulsive so I react aggressively
I will follow subtle leaders for praise
acceptance is what motivates
but be expecting of me and see rage,
My position is one that I dictate
Life is easy if I please, horrid if I lead,
Judgement worn weak, nothing to me,
put downs received, not bothered really
fake approval as a slave, all of it weak
The impact good or bad is just an opinion,
win people over behave for their pleasing,
others go against, upstage, ego feeding,
Both approaches give nothing I’m needing
I don’t rebel or adapt to play the game
The comparison of people for selfish gain
I won’t follow leaders pulling the chain
These mind game evaluations are so lame
My value is my happiness win or lose,
why you value approval leaves me confused
why you control others think it’s skill not abuse
Importance of social acceptance,
I simply refuse!
ENJOY LIFE
I keep going on being strong and optimistic.
I meet morals melting mind in modesty
I admit that Life is reflection of a game
Rare chance to win or fair chance to lose.
Ready for conflict to confront at each front
being cool, energetic, or aggressive.
I approach running, rippling
in symmetry or asymmetry
leaving rhythmic charming patterns.
I respect ruthless truth,
morals on journey of life,
at ease or at strife.
In drama of life I play role
of dauntless warrior.
I keep going on erecting my head.
04/08/22
'What keeps me going on'
Contest by Cecelia Hopkins Drewer
Please don’t create all the drama
and then sit and ask why it’s there.
Say it’s okay but clearly it’s not
start in on the texting girl just stop.
It’s clear that you won’t just say it,
veracious words are absent here.
Either shoot straight or stay silent.
All I really want is a peaceful vibe.
Girl, I’m not going to fall into it,
good god you feed off of conflict!
Reel it in and just simmer down
easy to see why your crutch is THC.
Suture your mouth if you need to
sour grapes is not a good look.
I don’t want to play all these games.
Victorious are those who will walk,
exit alone rather than sit and squawk.
Writing really is a peculiar thing
it stirs you up way down there
sometimes something new pops up
can be aggressive like big brown bear
Emotions of various kinds occur
softly tenderly sometimes so smooth
never know what'll be up next
whatever the mind finds to doeth
It's always amazing to wonder
what your next subject will be
such is the wonder of thought
for you need the wood of the tree
But feelings can vary moment by moment
as they're changing so much from day to day
effecting your own writing extremely so
colouring it from brightness to darkest grey
As you feel your grip on your pen
think of it's feelings stem from you
what you write comes from deep inside
raise it up so to make it do
A huge monstrous olive tree
not giving shade nor bearing fruits,
existing in pains and disappointments
together with the others, they live
is the exact expression of my grieve.
Too hypocritical in being aggressive
and defeated by the contraceptive of my try
condemn and make me believe
I'm failure's chief executive.
How am I to know
that every attempt completed
is success' eve?
How am I to know
that more failure is effective?
How am I to know
that I ought to be vigilant
and be patient like a detective?
faulting the situation, myself I deceive
and landing in this mess
surely wasn't my motive
I should have been more creative
instead of staying sensitive to my senses
and searching for palliative methods
of scoring my goal.
I shouldn't have used
my cognitive functions this way,
perceiving challenges as dangers
always attentive to the red light
when it is in fact yellow.
Running away,
when the push seems less attractive
and summing up the crash
to be definitive.
For all these years
the agony has been an adhesive
to my soul.
comparative to a privileged bridegroom
who outslept his wedding
to an undeserving bride.
As descriptive as that,
mine is even more corrosive.
Now I pay taxes to sadness
and my regret more lucrative than ever before
as nature chooses my heart
to be the dwelling place of sorrow
keeping my self-ruin well preserved.
I've tried to turn back time
I've tried to apply similar energy
and pretense is now my best talent
but all I get is NOTHING!
I'm only left with wishes
a million times have I made them
and a million times more I'll proclaim them
but they will all stand as cup-bearers
to my constant regrets.
as I forever say........
I wish! Oh I wish!
It is easy to forget that in the main we die only seven times more slowly than our dogs.
Jim Harrison (1937 - 2016) - The Road Home
First Bobo, a cocker spaniel,
I remember only from pictures.
He ran way before we moved
to Canada when I was four.
Second Kizzie, a cockapoo, Mom got
when the family moved to Texas.
I only saw her on holidays and such
as I stayed in Canada. She lived
long and was with the folks when they
retired to British Columbia and was
into her teens before they put her down.
Third Sadie, 3/4 Newfie - 1/4 Bernese,
a big black dog, with a big appetite
for apples from a special tree and
the socks our daughter, a toddler
cast off around the house.
I still chuckle remembering
the scattered remnants lining
the farm lane that spring.
She was over ten, and in pain
when we put her down.
Her ashes remain in an urn in the garage.
Fourth Rizzo, a fencejump cross of
Gordon Setter and Belgian Shepherd,
my wife and daughter got him from
a friend, while I was off on a canoe trip.
A headstrong dog who would take off after
a scent or car to return when he pleased.
On leash, he'd almost pull you off your feet.
With age, he grew territorial and
after the third biting incident, I took
him to the vet to be put down.
But she gave him to an older lady
with a fenced yard who put thirty
pounds on him and he lived to
fourteen or fifteen.
Fifth Hailey, who was five when
we got her from the shelter.
A Border Collie - Shepherd cross
and definitely our daughter's dog.
She'd bounce foxlike through the fields
and on evening beach walks, loved
to fetch sticks we'd toss into the waves.
She was over fifteen and failing when
we put her down, days before
our daughter's wedding.
No urn this time.
Sixth Xena, a Shepherd-Collie cross
and beyond doubt a princess
but more sweetheart than warrior.
She has the canine equivalent
of ADD and a bark first policy
when something new appears
and will retrieve sticks or balls
until your arm falls off .
At over eight, she's running strong.
Seventh, Sam, a mostly Shepherd mix,
she's our most 'rescue' rescue dog,
smart, loyal and obedient
a wantobe lap dog with a feral streak.
She responds in kind to aggressive
dogs and we muzzle her on walks.
Now five she'll be with us for a
good while to continue the tally.
At a time like this, we need to remember
We can annihilate ourselves in an instant
A fact I think these aggressive war mongers
Don't get, their actions are so flagrant
They fail to see past their dirty big noses
These egotistical self centred maniacs
So scary to think we're totally at their mercy
Their capable of devastating attacks
The only thing stopping them I certainly hope
The realization the aggressor dies too
A totally senseless and barbaric act
No one gains and everyone gets screwed
It certainly isn't me I'm thinking about
Happy with the path that I've taken
All those young'uns with their whole lives ahead
Must be constantly in fear of armageddon
Why must it constantly be on our minds
Since a child, it certainly hasn't been perfect
Too old to expect to ever see the day
When we witness an end to these conflicts
THE GHOSTLY FORMS
The ghost of a k hides inside
of a knee,
While a deafening silence
breaks on the page.
We live in an awfully good
harmony,
Bound by a quiet and
permanent rage.
The b in the debt does not
make a sound,
The w in answer is locked out
of sight.
They walk like a gnome on
the edge of the ground,
A random order in the middle
of night.
THE TWISTED TWINS
A jumbo shrimp swims in a
blurry clear sea,
With sweet sorrow tasting of
fresh copy air.
The living dead look at the
sole committee,
As pretty ugly truths hide the
things that are there.
We look at a scenic ruin in
time,
And listen to open secrets
they tell.
A found missing clue in the
middle of rhyme,
Like seriously funny stories
from hell.
HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT
The autumn is cool with a g in
the sign,
While climbing up mountains
of comb and of crumb.
An old news report on a
planned design,
Leaves everyone sitting there
totally numb.
A glisten of light on the edge
of a sword,
The w is missing but doing its
part.
We find a new classic that we
can afford,
An exact estimate of the beat
of a heart.
THE FINAL CONTRAST
The island is calm with an s in
the sand,
The castle is standing with t
in the stone.
A passive aggressive control
of the land,
Where people are together
alone.
So speak of the honest and
think of the hour,
Where letters are sleeping
and meanings collide.
A sweet tart of language,
both bitter and sour,
With secrets and conflicts
alive on the inside.
On this revelation that i`m walking into as the devil/evil at a level inside of the devils head. After a really testing day yesterday and awakened to the depth of controlling powers/issues from the boss out of Maritimo and the demonic assertive aggressive CONTROLLING JESEBEL way in which she told me off at having getting paint on the table. I rebuke her and reverse it all in spirit. Also Wayne and his mate who wanted to beat me as i strongly opposed him putting his tent next to mine, the devil trying to get his way.
After a few weeks down by the sea shore being prepared for this new chapter at being moved into the wedding cake, on the bottom tier, after this yesterday i was moved up to the top of the "WEDDING" cake. God sent a storm, a wind very strong, that changed a lot in the spirit and the aftermath of demonics going on in me ( the universe ) The bigger picture the WEDDING DAY is very close. Which is why the painful contention of evil is being endured.
Inside of the devil, in many forms from Oli Seb David and Karen, all differant carachteristics of the devil in many forms too, and trying to be as still as i can is very daunting to say the least. The devils horn i`m` wearing is the epitomy of evil i felt in Wayne and his mate yesterday. Burning Fire , thank you o LORD that all things come together for your good . I give them all to you to make them footstools. And help me to be still and learn against this pure evil i`m enduring . AMEN
I wander aimless through desert plains of my mind
Praying that I find an Oasis that lingers within a dark hole.
Daylight chokes my barren soul, as I rise another day
this narcissistic mother has driven my passive aggressive father into dust.
Dunes of Sahara dessert pours salt on my open wounds
as this mirage of freedom lingers further in the haze.
I thirst for that freedom, I thirst to feel the cool
wetness flow endlessly through me
I wander the desert alone, the desert of this perilous mind
Fear of dehydration from the grasp of their scorching presence
I suffocate from sand dunes of their traps like quick sand.
I pray fire that burns my ebony skin, releases its scorching grip.
Peeled, burnt I find that hidden oasis, which grants
freedom to this parched soul that lingered on this desolate ground.
Freedom to the thirst that burned my throat, and cracked my lips.
Freedom from the narcissist and the passive.
………………..
I hate mirages for
In my desert, I wander alone.