Long Anti Poems
Long Anti Poems. Below are the most popular long Anti by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Anti poems by poem length and keyword.
Sweetest child in the school
5th grade
Giant puppy
If you said the sweetest kid ever
I could name him
And I would
Cry Cry Cry
I feel horrible.
Bring him to my office
Who hurt him?
What did they say?
What did they do?
In Mama Bear mode
I am going to take no prisoners
They can lie in cages eating wallpaper
And will want to after I get finished with them
Many tears later I discover
The trickster told him that he said that they said that he said that she said.
I am horrified.
I have taught six million lessons on
Not being stirred up by he-said-she-said nonsense
We discuss my lessons
Which he forgot in the heat of the moment
I know the instigator. He is a piece of work.
Can stir faster than me even, and I am pretty good at it.
Finally change subject
What will he do tonight for fun?
He finally says play ball.
A bit of a smile
Tears start
Then tears up again.
His bat is lost.
Wait a second, I say.
In the house?
Head nod.
It has to be under
something long, a bed
or a couch right?
He is stymied
Not sure now what
emotion to feel
“Do you mean I am going to have
to come to your house tonight and find our bat?”
He gives me directions and his address.
I smile.
“And what would your mother say if an old woman
Came to your house to help you find our bat?”
He stares at me a long time.
“Thank you?” he whispers.
I love sweet supersensitive
Innocent 5th grade boys
Before they fall into
the clutches of the 21-year-old
6th grade girls.
An anti-resolvent-fume-
of-infest-chokes-out-integral-yield of humanity.
Thick as molasses, blackstrap morass of emnity.
Blight is apathy, and apathy is blight.
A Void, a claim farming the abyss.
Marketing it's lie, on sale.
Though it has a monopoly.
PolyEntropy.
In the garden of life; an empty field of dreams,
lays unintended on its side,
untended save for the shadows
that yield a mock harvest.
Decay on display of manifest.
The sky, descended as a Judas Ascendant,
it's belly gorged with malfeasance.
Exotic particles curse the ground
like wormwood in ritual burn, cache of ashen incense.
Libra sells you back your rye, mildewed and palmer wormed, to bore in at the destitute
at double price, double dealing
with the wages of Sin and Death.
Doubled down.
Doubled over.
So the pendulum swings
in shadows deep, a soul did sleep- in
Crimson and Clover, over and over, so over
the Lords of Plunder.
Its essence lost, a memory weeped as it counts
the costs.
Whispers of sorrow, a silent scream,
in the Wilderness-
under project Blue Beam/Warp Speed.
In the void, the soul did dream of cover
by militias of truth needs to redirect the beams.
The sky, a jumbotron of betrayal and lies,
false witness to commercial treachery
portrayal in its thespian guise.
Cursed particles dance in the wind,
like venus flytrap babys breath.
A haunting reminder of the wages of sin,
the touch of death.
The scales of justice are unbalanced and frayed,
black judgment, jury, executioner-DOJ.
Truth and falsehood in a deadly coliseum
where devouring Lions roam.
The rose of passion, its petals torn,
as humanity's innocence is forever shorn.
As the pendulum swings, a dance of despair,
seduces in masked charade in the wings.
Hope dwindles
in the poisoned communications air.
Ploughshares turned to weapons of hate,
In a world where love is overshadowed, here,
eclipsed by the tech magistrates in monopolistic
fare synods.
The farms bought by syndicates who will use starvation as cattle prod,
obedience broad, shock and awe.
The World Economic Forum is a synod,
a syndicate of Lawless Ones using purse strings to strangle us into submission.
Submission to their Fallen Angel false Gods.
Sudden windy gust
Plays havoc with hair;
Air pregnant with rain
Torrential rain falling
Sky oozing water;
Viscous as oil
Long long queue
Taxi stand centipede;
No cab in sight
Common complaint
Common folks echo;
Too little time
By reservoir park
Bench wet with dew;
Curious eyes detect
Morning jog
Wilderness feeling;
Reservoir park circuit
My darling sleeps
Sweet dreams attend;
Angelic smiles decorate
Here I sit vivid:
Sculpt turn of phrase;
Poem emerging
Some long
For the good old days;
Fresh change intrudes
Anniversary thoughts
Think upon yesterdays;
Nothing much said
Needs and wants
Adversarial anti-climax
No solution yet
One more minute please
Morning wake-up call;
Sleepy feel malingers
Leon Enriquez
25 July 2014
Singapore
Prozac Nation, dated September 8th, 2001
became the film that reminded some that
these days that we live in, with cell phones
that make us capable of connecting in a flash
mean we've broken our pencils and torn up
our stationary where letters once were dashed
off of the tops of our heads and sent on
with sentiments read by bifocaled heads
of grandparents who would soon be dead
yet were there for the time, there to remind us
why we're alive and we're living in a time
of Prozac and Ambian and some form of Xanax
We've become a people dependent on our drugs
where we once depended on our minds, our hearts,
the souls that sought out Jesus instead of
the cluttered cabinets of painkillers and anti-depressants,
everything that seems to replace the true person
with a desensitized, artificial, contrived individual
only surviving the times with stockpiles of prescriptions
Chopped Updated - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
THEY HAVE SPOKEN YOU ARE BROKEN by James Edward Lee Sr.
(SPOKEN WORD TESTAMENT PRAYER... people are sometimes cruel and don't care bout you or nothing.
They're busy bodies but bodies to busy doing nothings.
They work with their mouths unrighteousness. Fuss and complain about everything. You could even give them totally free a million dollars yet still they would holler bout' them, their taxes they may have to pay. So much discomfort and unbelief won't even cross the streets if it was a holiday Thank-giving well......
whom are they, and what do they have to be thankful for)
They have spoken
You are broken
They have spoken
You are broken
They have spoken
You are broken
They have spoken
You are broken
Broken, broken
the doctor's are on the way
They say you only got eight months to live
Oh!but I, I believe
They have spoken
You are broken
Broken, broken
But shall not receive, why?
cause I believe
The teachers are sayN
That you are failing
4 of your classes
you got a total of 11 classes
Oh!but I, I believe
They have spoken
You are broken
Broken, broken
But shall not receive, why?
cause I believe
They have spoken
You are broken
They have spoken
You are broken
They have spoken
You are broken
They have spoken
You are broken
Broken, broken
The Pastors if this church says am not givin enough
I am on welfare got no food left and
I was told if I didn't give any more
I'll surly die, I told them nigh
Oh! I believe, I truly believe
But I shall receive, why?
cause I believe
They have spoken
You are broken
They have spoken
You are broken
So I rebuke and reject
These negative feelings from all these people
and praise my King whom above all things
Sing...
I shall have spoken
I AM NOT broken
God has spoken, His love is open
And that I am no longer broken
I'm risen and whole
Awaiting the coming of the Lord
I shall have spoken
I AM NOT broken
I shall have spoken
I AM NOT broken, I AM NOT BROKEN
12/02/17
WRITTEN words & ARRANGED music
BY JAMES EDWARD LEE SR.
I'm not a drone, a plane, or a superman. I'm not snow, hail, or the Rainman.
I'm a big bird; I ride the wind and soar. I listen to the air flows that tell me when
I have healthy feet, but I was born to fly. I'm not anti-social, but most times I fly alone.
I love the heights and the embrace of the mountain I can see something the size of a rabbit three miles away
Remember the famous American hero, Mr. Benjamin Franklin? He was not a friend of mine, and you can't imagine what he said about me.
In fact, he preferred the wild turkey as the emblem of America instead of me, and would you believe it if I told you that he called me a coward and a thief?
Notice what he said in 1784: "For my own part,” he wrote, “I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country. He is a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly.… Besides he is a rank Coward: The little King Bird not bigger than a Sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the District.”*
I tell you, I don't know what to say except, "Hey, it's a wild kingdom out here". Mr. Franklin was a very smart man, but apparently he doesn't understand the wilds. Why if it had not been for the Endangered Species Act, I would probably not be talking to you today. Anyway, Thanks America for keeping me alive, wild, and free.
042420PoSpCtest, Wild, Anthony Slausin *Web sight: The Cornell Lab, All About Birds
It is what is coded on my DNA
It is the rhythm of my heartbeat
It is what is engraved on my soul
It is what is written in my anthology
It is my medicine
"MEDICINE "
Yeah, I think that is the perfect word to describe what art means to me
For all the times I felt the urge to down my anti-depressants with alcohol
But chose to bleed on pages instead
For all the times I wanted to curse God for all my pain
But decided to turn my prayers into a poem instead
For the time art kept me company in the midst of my dark hours
For that one time when music bandaged my wounds
And when Phora's album made me feel like I had a companion
Like I an not the only one experiencing this hell
Art saved me
Memories from 2020:
This is for a friend of mine who has been bullied on social media. Don't let bullies get you down. They are cowards and are projecting their insecurities and self hatred onto others.
Kindness is a strength. Stay strong and be blessed. Hugs
Kindness is a strength
By Michelle Morris
15/11/2020
They called her names and hurt her soul;
Tried to make her feel ugly, unwanted and broken...
Social media fiends and cruel people in life,
Are an unexpected meanness that creates so much strife...
But no matter what they do or what they say,
Remember it's only a projection of their own darkness and inner frailties...
Being kind in a cruel world takes so much more strength -
Being constructive is difficult but lasts way longer than negative events...
Kindness is a strength and forgiveness heals your soul,
God sees all our deeds and will make the hurts go...
So hold on to your faith and integrity,
Trust the blessing that is you will win eventually...
© Michelle Morris, 2020
The Parrot
The bird in the cage has featherless wings folded
to the naked body like squeaking scissors
I'm 89 today let, me out of this bloody cage!
Its owner is hard of hearing, is the widow of a war
veteran, I think the First World War
She tells everyone she meets, 8 million horses and
12 million donkeys were killed on the battlefield and no one
took notice
Humanity only thought of their suffering and were
impervious to animals' feelings, more, a wounded animal was eyed as a potential meal by hungry soldiers
Dragged from a green field to a soggy battlefield and
not a word of thank you
Goulash, the famous Hungarian dish, was made from horse
flesh and camouflaged with paprika, pepper, and salt
for 89 years, the parrot had only been able to read
the titles of books on the shelf on the opposite wall
It had a lively mind and listened to the radio every day
well educated can squawk with the best of them
Oh, my true self !
Why do I so often forget you?
Oh, my true self !
In chasing the world’s temptations,
I forget you, my true self.
The things around me lure,
This innocent heart that,
Still does not know,
The curse of temptation
And its long-lasting scars,
Wounds so deep
That I forget you again,
Oh my true self !
How can I remain forever
In the awareness of your
Ceaseless divine light,
Oh, my true self!
I search for you in the eyes
Of all my kith and kin.
I meet many who call me friend,
I look for you in their gaze,
Yet find nothing more
Than endless wishes,
Dark desires, and broken dreams.
But beneath the clouds of wishes,
Dreams, greed, and lust,
There you are—hidden,
Oh, my true self ! So I pray:
In every place,
In every form of God’s creation,
In the true self of all beings,
Help me,
Help me regain you,
Oh, my true self !