Long Backhanded Poems
Long Backhanded Poems. Below are the most popular long Backhanded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Backhanded poems by poem length and keyword.
They looked at me with doubt
The light had long gone out
I was long past my prime
Ripples in a pond subside over time
"That's him?", an onlooker thought it odd
"Yes" his brother said, "I swear to God!"
A girl said "I don't see it, but it must be there"
Their doubts didn't faze me, I really didn't care
"It's all a fraud," said a sad man staring
I laughed inwardly, I was past caring
A colleague thought I was magnetic, explained it by a pheromone
He thought I didn't wash; I just gave a groan.
Then a woman said angrily that I must be kept down
A backhanded compliment, but I'd rather not drown
A young man told his friends that I had a "dog face"
He didn't feel I belonged in his land, his place.
For many years, I hadn't slept through the night
But one day, I got up, feeling alright.
Put a bike helmet on my bald head
Got on my Trek, like a 70's retread.
Cycled out of the city, into green lands
Blood rushed to my face, heard musical bands
Light came from somewhere, buried inside
Perhaps its last stand, before it expired and died
A few people caught sight, gasped with surprise
We were all feeling good, there were stars in their eyes
They gave me a smile, a smile from the heart
Like a sudden symphony, like a work of art.
Should we believe in illusion, should we stick to the fact?
Should we get to the real, or fall for an act?
Whatever was true, I'm old now and worn
But in a smile, in enthusiasm, it's always reborn
Smiles are cheap, I think there's no harm
Life is short, why not add myth, no cause for alarm.
RufePal kept muttering "jv" team as it looked
around the room,
hoping to find someone underage to mentor to.
Michael blurted, "you and your precious
America! You are so gullible and trusting.
Penney started singing, "Scotty doesn't know, Scotty doesn't know oh...so don't tell Scotty."
Shut, the, fuuuu, up!
Do you think Bill Gates bought all that farmland,
after visiting China and performing fell...because
he wanted to rub elbows with you dirt farmers !
Gus complained, "i'm not a dirt farmer,
I am an old gum collector."
The gang nodded and murmured, looking one
to another in testimony and agreement.
"I know how to work a hoe, sure,
but I am more a collector of hoes than anything, philosophically.",
chimed Silky.
"I collect damned New Age Church souls
that do not care to notice the obvious difference
in Dogma between the Original Eclipsed Church
and this imposed heretical one." added Vatican2Priest.
"Penney's eyes lit up and this time she pulled...
"Enough, you simpleton MAGATS",
she hissed, "I'm not a MAGA, I hate America just like you!, she began to trick(her specialty)...
"Silence", she matched Penny's objection
and also her Va. Gina Monologue Kung Fu.
As she drug it out slowly like the movie Alien.
Whoopies unneeded I.U.D. was actually an I.E.D.
"In 3 minutes this place and all of you are gonna
go sky high to meet your Lord in the Air !"
Penney got confirmation by snickering, "3 minutes?
I could do... nevermind !"
She began to pack a suitcase slowly after making herself a sandwich, taking the things she thought were pretty.
When she had made her way to the front door, she adjusted the blinds and feng shui of the room.
The others followed, mainly because she was
a good shopper and a beautiful prostitute.
Michael couldn't even speak, he was so angry
at RufePal not bringing the gun and now
Whoopie sets the bomb for 'leave
at your convenience' !
She it them backhanded Whoopie and took t
he explosive from her with a handkerchief
and began to run after them...
Form:
Backhanded Apology
Copyright © L MILTON HANKINS | Year Posted 2022
Sorry if I upset you,
I really didn’t mean it
Actually, I meant it
Until I saw it upset you,
Now I’m sorry you are
Upset by my words
But I got them said,
Which I intended to do.
L. Milton always impressed me with his sly humor amidst mostly very deep, spiritual thoughts. “Backhanded Apology” is one of his well-read pieces at 742 views. This apology is perfect for a very public person who is subject to personal remarks which could be double entendre at the outset. Milt was a fine person, likewise an excellent poet whose comments on my work were always positive and supportive. A Kentucky bluegrass native myself, I applaud his choice of retirement residency in Ashland; it is close to his roots in WV. We will all miss him at Poetry Soup.
January 3, 2023
What a fella what a lovely fella happened their way
What a generous fella to kindly offer all these gifts and his services for free
He was of the mind to give them some of his grub
But he waited until it got rank and mouldy first
He then offered them a sip of his tea
But thought it best to spit in it first
He was generous with his backhanded compliments
never missed a beat in his dance of deceit
his two faced stance well maintained to entice the flies to his web
Bothered to put on a show to appear likeable and relatable too, what a gent
As he knit picked at their lives and put a spin on every word they uttered
he meant to gently pump them up for intel for reasons known only to himself
A mission that sadly bounced hard and flopped
For that last bit I blame who ever created the character of James Bond
Has the likes of him curtain twitching and meddling for dear life
Convinced every foreign woman wants to get their mits on them, I mean resounding yuck please!
His exotic fare he elaborately served on a bed of fake pleasantly, seasoned with a dash of bogus laughter
He seemed appalled that they could be handed a chance at anything at all
before he got to take at least ten more chances that he doesn't even need
God forbid anyone else aside from him gets any upliftment
Joy should start and end only with him and his kin
and compassion should only ever be pointed his way
He enjoys his loot only when others stay beneath him, and thrives when disparity amounts
There is a hole where this man's soul ought to be
And that's if it was ever there in the first place
Maybe all he ever had is this humongous gaping emptiness
that he has to fill at all odds because its eating him alive
It seems it can only ever be filled by him generously spreading misery and contempt
He tries to fill it with greed and a haughty demeanour
Little does he know it will never suffice
Somethings no amount of wealth can ever buy
Maybe he never got enough hugs as a child
I mean one might be born into abject poverty
but it never stops their parents from raising loving compassionate children, one hug at a time
Sometimes that's all a soul needs to thrive
What a fella, poor fella with a stone for a heart
and pockets weighed down by gold
Form:
Privately educated, privileged backgrounds .……no problem per se …….…but ......we're led by these plum in mouth toffs by the troughful.…... their snouts in the pockets of the electorate, creaming the real workers of cash for taxes .…....so long as they're okay with backhanded deals and offshore accounts, their empathy remains as real as a cuboid moon.
Distrustful dinosaurs with prehistoric rhetoric....... and arrogance beyond belief .......they give the people grief. Arguably their role is to be unpopular..... no reflection of the real people, no microcosm, no cross section, no true representation of us compounds their ability to irritate.
This is politics in full swing, full of stuck up d*cks and silly twerps in tailored shirts telling us how to vote. When can this change to a real democracy? ........Real parties talking real issues with real solutions with real taxes spent on real things. The equilibrium is unbalanced, the donkey jacket came and went ......now we're left with just the donkeys, more mules to carry the weight of their own egos.
We have the right to vote.....we pride ourselves on this democratic right...but this is looking through the rose tints.….I only have the ability to vote for different shades of beige....unless I want to become a part of an extremist, sensationalist mob.….I don't.... I just want a real choice of real people..….so for now my ballot card will remain a useful piece of cardboard.... to fold and prop up the wonky leg on my dining room table.
A believer in God
killing babies fun fun fun
rape, well I blame all sides
Forgive
my hate
and ignorance
and silence when it maters
I have traveled no where
have no conscience
love those who disparage the weak
the weak are terrorist
the nerve of them to speak
I have no heart
a heart requires pumping blood
empathy is for other fools
no one cares
who drowns under Zionist floods
I have no voice
other than among peers
who love their rifles
more than they fear Gods cheer
My sword is a Tommyhawk
empty words and
backhanded slaps
if you hate I am yours
I am in good company
amongst all the silent ones
indifference is my medal of honour
I am America
I am none of the above
I have a heart
Vampires and Mosquitos, they’re both out for blood each in their own way, one sucks the life out of you and the other just wants a taste
But when it pertains to love there is a big difference between the two, you my love were like the vampire but a little like the mosquito too
You swooped in unknowingly and you hurt me in subtle ways, claiming that it was all an accident knowing that I would stay
Just a nip here and there just enough to quinch your thirst, you didn’t care about my feelings just as long as you got your worth
And after I had been nipped at in places that were hard to see, the wound would be forgotten just an afterthought wrapped up in a backhanded apology
And your spittle it would consume into my skin, and collate with the others that you had tasted mingling together telling a story of where your lips had been
Just like the mosquito after your bite you saunter away, and leave me with the reminder that you had your taste
But in other ways you’re much darker and more ravenous it does seem, the way that you can suck the soul right out of me when you press your lips against me
You want to feed on me, you thirst for my love that flows within, and you have no thought of my needs you have shown me this time and again
As long as you are sated and you’re bloodthirsty no more, than you walk away as always leaving my corpse there on the hard, cold floor
Only returning when the darkness settles in, you come calling upon me like the chill that responds to your skin
There you search my lifeless eyes just begging for one last taste, awaiting my awakening whereas you have sealed my fate
I don’t wish to be anything like you I am not out for blood, I don’t wish for just a nip or a taste here and there I want eternal love.
The opalescence of the early morning light flows over everything
It touches over ever leaf, every tree, every exposed part of her skin
She stares at the sky as the dawn breaks
It shines brighter and brighter
The dew illuminated with the power of the sun
Everything around buzzes with the recharge of a new day
Everything but her
Volatile thoughts burrow through every cell
Leaving her empty filled only with the brisk sweet air
White knuckle grip on the rusty swing slowly creaking in the breeze
Time stops for a moment as the birds go quiet and the squirrels hold their breath
The silence was deafening so she screams
She screams out every breath she has ever taken-
She screams with every ounce of strength left in her-
She screams out all the sorrows, all the pains, all the contradictions
Gasping relieved from the build of feminine rage
She sobs out the anguish of unrealistic self expectation
She sobs in quiet determination to feel better or at all
She sobs to release the leash wrapped around her heart which keeps her tied to poise
Sighing she breathes deep even breathes of the fresh morning air
In and out
In and out
She breathes in the peaceful calm of the perfect morning
She breathes in self reflection of her beauty
She breathes in lost ideals of enoughness
She breathes out the snide backhanded comments
She breathes out the monstrous detrimental molds that she’ll never fit into
She breathes out the self hatred and regret and loathing
Stilling she looks around for the first time since she laid down and clung hopelessly to the swing
She smiles taking in the pink and purple watercolor sky
She smiles noticing the slight breeze ruffling the viridian leaves
She smiles as the the electric light beams which zap through the tree branches-
They dance around the ground and all over her body in waves
For the first time in a long time she remembers herself
She remembers herself more than just a woman
She remembers herself more than just a sister or a daughter
She remembers herself more than just a friend or a lover
She remembers herself below the depression and angst
She remembers herself as a person internally whole
She had forgotten her inevitable strength
She vows to never forget herself again
Standing in the warmth of the spring sun-
She laughs
thr ones that were my own
are the ones that did disown
laying down a judgeful Hammer
but not understanding or reasonable
with the truth they were handed.
their lack of Faith in me and disregard
only gives them discredit
how they spit in my face and shame me
time after time..
yes i am one who is damaged
they threw the first stone
and they are not Without sin..
thought they would learn this parable i landed
but instead, by it, got backhanded
tired of being oppressed and accused
Faithless asses are they that gave my heart a bruise
keep tune and now see what God will do
as wrath pours out and im the one ständing amused
stupidity companied by hypocrisy
they never knew me to begin with
yet they fire off at me
about to explode in my anger
so i keep them far from me
until i see them on the true judgement day
let us hope and pray
i am merciful in my wake
and im sure nobody likes to swim in a burning lake
THE MONSTER YOU DREAD
i can’t handle rejection,
the unhug of perfection.
a piercing scream of perplexion —
my complexion streaked
grouted and piqued.
i backhanded you by
closing the splintered door,
vainglorious to the core —
now you can’t see the open sore.
you never uncovered, never looked,
never came to find me, i’m overlooked.
hiding beneath the bed, i’m the monster
you dread — tear-salted tongue, the martyr
with claws tearing at my skin - my fear
that she sips her coffee carelessly - oh dear...
the suicidal stripes down my cheeks sear
as my mother wanders through her year.
if only a look, a hug, a kind word spoken
to me would tear me from this sea forsaken —
this torrent, harangue of waves, haplessly
dashing, against heart and soul. if only a creak,
a scintilla of light would peek into
my claustrophobic space, saving me from me.
but i, only i...must resolve, unhinge the lock,
step out and see the clearing of the crock...
all alone on my private island - its unsecured dock.
i pretend it never mattered but carry the doom
within my flesh, my invisible childhood looms.
ready at turn to rear its misshapen head, its claws
digging into a buried past — all my flaws...
jealousy pops up in the middle of my joy
i stomp the frenetic beast, clawing its face.
i refuse to be that monster, that disgrace!
6/14/2019
Move me Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux