Long Asperity Poems

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


Latent Black Payback

Losses not consolidated leave contributor raw
Arrears rip pages of rational compassionate law
Turblent thoughts toss turn to channel retaliation 
Embittered brain rubs static into smooth radio station
Nocturnal curtain eternal drawn over forgiving stance
Tortured cortex tar drips coal smudge repugnance 


Behind lids of eyes fingertips pressing upon
Lacking exposure conjures warped projection 
Attonement can't be granted during darkness 
Confessions sparkle once in white starkness 
Killing accountability in murky private mind 


Proliferating hatred sees old harm magnified 
Asperity of sins committed stew in torpid trench
Years of historic plot twist regale harsh revenge
Bulged breeding dim ideas seethe evil scheme 
Attack mapped by movie shock putrid scenes
Creeping balaclava covered crow bar at chest
Knavish initiation repaid with blood reaps debt






                                      24th August 2021

                      Written for Contest : The Colour Black
                          Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
Form: Acrostic


A Lasting Treaty

Wars cause only destruction and death
leaving behind scenes gloomier than itself:
bloody bodies strewn on dry leaves,
while the jubilant king falls to his knees...
thanking God who has brought him victory,
but then looking at his hands he ponders with asperity.


" I have built a kingdom by demanding loyalty,
accumulated a huge army allowing stealing and killing;
but none of this is mine, not even my castle and sovereignty,
I am a horrible king as others have been before me...
I must issue a lasting treaty to save many from dying! "


And standing on the barren hill overlooking the citadel,
he cried out as the wind brushed his long hair so curly,
" Forgive me all, from now on there will be a lasting treaty...
food for all and the best wine in a land that once was evil! "




Copyright 2012 by Andrew Crisci
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Asp

A-s-p are three high-functioning letters
And while I imagine that some might do better
  Here are some ways to bring them together

At the start of a word we have aspirin and asparagus
Not to mention aspartame, aspects, and aspersions
Then there's aspire, aspirations, and asperity
  And maybe even an aspirator, between you and me

Of course, if you have asp in the middle
You get asp in the end
As you'll find in clasp grasp, hasp and rasp
And it works the other way too--
  Which I'm sure you can grasp

That brings to an end this discussion of asp
For more, read the Bible or Shakespeare
  Or find a teacher to ask

Premium Member Broken Eagle Soars Again

I hold three magic rocks, in my hand.
Rolling them over and over and over.
Leaving reality behind, far behind.


once an eagle 
    with a clipped wing 
            attempting 
without surrender to once again 
command the infinite azure sky;
       continually nosediving 
whenever tossed in the air.
his convalescence 
        punishingly long;
               now complete. 
embarking on a mission 
to quiet doubting Thomases 
that sounded a death knell for him
and laughed him off as 
                      a paper plane 
incapable of flying 
far beyond the horizon...
                 look at him today! 
look at him soaring above 
majestically; 
     his journey 
from the depth of asperity 
to the dizzying heights of majesty...
            m  a  g  i  c  a  l: 
almost miraculous.
           he's withered 
the slings and arrows of life 
intact; he's in flight once again 
          a testament 
to his strength and resilience.
Form: Narrative

An Untrustworthy Guy

Some guys many skills have mastered,
I blush when I try to tell little lies 
and shaking I reveal my fakeness;
quite a few girls have slapped me hard.

Cindy went on vacation heading South,
she warned me priming up her mouth,  
" Don't mess around with my girlfriend,
don't touch her! " I kept quite and grinned.

I refused to listen and promise I wouldn't;
her look expressed a plausible doubt,
I was a playboy in search of a hideaway 
and while she was gone, I could surely play. 

And fun I had through those two weeks,
Chrissy, the girl with pink and yellow hair,
asked me for a date, I couldn't refuse her
we headed down to the nearest beach to kiss.

Other nights we went to the movies,
we stuffed our mouths with buttery popcorn
and laughed hard spilling our drinks;
cheating on Cindy never induced guilt or scorn.

The time came for me to be slapped hard in the head
for being such a naughty boy, a liar without guilt
who cheated with her best friend to start a conflict
and ready to face embarrassment, I seemed not afraid.  

One July evening when Chrissy and I were kissing
on the velvety sofa, I heard crackling noises coming 
from the kitchen, heavy footsteps started approaching...
" Who is that? I hollered while my fret was increasing.  

" It's me, pretty boy! I am back! You will regret this a lot!"  
 her shrilling voice was a rumbling thunder incurring fright,  
" We are watching, " Friends "! I made up a silly excuse,
" You kissed Chrissy! You promised me you wouldn't have cheated! "
" Blame her, she tempted me! " I couldn't resist her! " I exclaimed.
" Silly boy, enough of your games...you have much to lose! "

" Ah, shameless liar, get out my sight! " And dashing towards me
she slapped me in the head making me feel her hard blow, " Come Chrissy, 
she's going crazy! If she thought I was untrustworthy, why did she
she go on vacation? To test me? " I condemned her action with asperity.


Written on 7/3/2016
Form: Rhyme


After the Turmoil...Hope!

After turmoil...hope!
A such needed continuity
of those forgotten aspirations
left undone...left locked in a steel box
that nobody thought of finding!
Pages written with asperity,
by now...they should be yellowed, out-dated
and without its formal meaning;
by morning...the realization will be complete
for this misunderstood one who sought solidarity! 

After the turmoil...hope!
An unwelcomed message
from a by-gone age...
a persistent vocation
suffocated by rage and hate!
When the secret is revealed on stage,
many will feel hostility...
and change their mentality
about ingnorance and indignation!

After the turmoil...hope!
A hope outlasting frustration,
a reality to marvel at and entice...
without doubting its inner force!
After the darkness retreats itself in agony,
a brilliant light  is my witness to this victory:
I defiantly fought ...tossed ashore by a violent sea,
again, I persisted with vindication
and won the fierce fight against the wind and currents,
because Someone was pulling me out with a rope!

Ashes Bazball Reality


Ripsnorting depravity cavity of sporting gravity

Severity of the brevity cheekily courting levity

Hilarity distorting polarity Tests aren’t a charity

Unpopularity resorting to double downed vulgarity

Clarity for sorting parity then humility not a rarity


Some austerity can feed & lead to prosperity

Precarity due to the complete lack of dexterity

Asperity at temerity & totality of Bazball brutality

Banality of celebrity vanity caused the disparity 


Mendacity that red ball is just all about audacity

In reality plans need adaptability or fans profanity

Rapacity of elan talismans fatality simply insanity
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member From Vanity To Christ

This long or short grotesque shadowy path, 
this dreadful sorrowing sojourn through the vale, 
this burden of ceaseless hope banished at the instance
This thing we called Life, puny bay leaf of time.  
marooned by rigours from birth, 
sentences of windy chase, 
asperity and exertion as attendances. 
the quest for known yet  unknown.
the rat-race for passing filth, 
where dirt conquers dirt for dominance
Pride garbed in many forms
Multitudes Journeying on paths of obscurity 
Even Solomon searched in vain,
so did i till i reach the precipice.
When in troubadour i transverse through the dreary path,
I heard of King Jesus.   
I looked up the hill  Calvary, 
the fountain from the Pierced side flowing free,
He bade my anxious soul to His rest.
I fled, still fleeing from aimless and empty toils 
to Christ the King of mercy. 
with eye set on His Light he leads through Jordan vale, 
The Risen king gives me hope.
And this for me is more than gold

Premium Member Aspiration

Aspiration


Antoine had crashed once again when tempting the desert
Freedom fighter laureate poet daredevil testing the call of

                        ~ Poisonous Times ~

A mysterious man and rebellious philosopher with script on his 
tongue ink on soft paper Rose in his heart and yearning for

                        ~ Cleopatra’s Eyes ~

A snake of fertile creation and healing never far from his pen
Aesculapius in coil had mutated to SS wound around torches’

                        ~ Venomous Bite ~

Aspides’s toxic fangs a spitting image of denial with thick scales
covering eyes of horned vipers hiding or shielding from attack

                        ~ Dependent on Choice ~

The piloting scribe aspired towards kind compassionate words
As the elephant was swallowed by a boa constrictor clothed in a sad

                         ~ Hatter’s Distortion ~

Antoine got killed on reconnaissance’s flight over France shot down or
by just letting go of throttle and misery but the Little Prince and his

                          ~ Wisdom Remains ~

Avoiding slithering hisses in what remains of paradise an auspice
of sloughing what needs to be shed emerged from warrior’s asps in

                          ~ Blossoming Hope ~

When threatened by serpent’s pitiless pits with no parachute attached
Peace can be found and acrimonious asperity relieved one small step in

                          ~ Narration and Truth ~

29th April 2018

Premium Member Hourglass

Written: June 10th, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud

                                         ************************


Do I feel empty?
Or am I becoming a void?
Or am I amassing light to be thick?
Shimmering hourglass embosoms paradoxes—
emptiness and fullness, darkness and light.

A sandy spot with winter asperity cinders,
a vestige of the iterative nature of life,
each grain of time trickling a wave,
ebbing and flowing,
forever shifting, undulating.

Whatever twist, whatever spin,
I sustain you in the din, 
anchored on the ledge of chiming.
In all scopes, the sand-clock is versatile,
grain by grain, a vertical choir—counts—
flux, looms as a flash of fearlessness,
from ash, arises a phoenix, pristine slate.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

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