Long Badgered Poems
Long Badgered Poems. Below are the most popular long Badgered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Badgered poems by poem length and keyword.
You have been persecuted.
You have been oppressed and depressed,
Wronged and aggrieved, even violated,
And for what?
Because of gender,
Because your body lacks a certain appendage,
Your chest is more pronounced, or your voice more pleasant?
You have been slighted.
You have been affronted and blasphemed against,
Insulted and abused, your rights neglected
And why?
Because of your orientation,
Because you chose to love another man,
You’re not attracted to the same thing that men like me are?
I know you hear me,
Because we all have been disregarded.
Why have you been dismissed?
Punished and censored,
Rebuked and cast aside, sometimes battered,
Ask the world why?
Because of the color of your skin,
Because your tan does not match that of another,
Your lips are fuller and your hair has more texture.
You have been shunned.
You have been ostracized and badgered daily,
Bullyragged and junked, even tainted,
And for what?
Because of your religion,
Because you have faith in God,
You say grace or pray five times each day?
Hear me NOW!
You have been besmirched and blemished
Shackled and shattered
Crucified and cursed
But why?
Why?
Because you must persevere
You must triumph and persist
You must overcome and conquer, even rejoice
And for what?
So that the next man who loves another man
Or the next woman who feels unequal
Child that feels different
Or for the next man’s whose faith becomes fragile
For them.
For these people we suffer
We take their burden
So tomorrow they can walk with their heads high above adversity.
For their children.
So their children will know not of the experiences of these hardships.
Today we brave the senseless hatred,
Tomorrow we smile
As the next generation finds a love we were able to receive.
Today we must not judge so that tomorrow they will not judge us.
We will not be angry at those who cannot understand us,
Instead we show pity.
PITY!
We pity them,
Their incapacity to open their minds and welcome anyone who differs from them.
Today we live this day
Today we wear the garbs of misfortune
Today we live so tomorrow will not live today over
Today
TODAY!!
The Challenge ~ The Milford Haven Harbor shielded Wales
from pirates making merchant ships their prey.
Her ports have cradled many from the gales
and swaddled sailors as her pirates play.
The Irish and the Celtic Sea are veils
for pirate rogues unleashing disarray.
Upon the waves each plunderer assails
thus, seeking out each subjugated stray.
The "Deft", a barque where buccaneering dwells,
has pilfered one too many in the fray.
The Prince of Wales is badgered by the rails
of subjects pressing bane to go away.
For those who question who shall own the sea,
will soon be answered by the fearless “Spree”.
The Chase ~ The "Spree" is of the finest that avails
to always keep the pirate ships at bay.
Her pedigree for sailing soon prevails
when cries call out for her to save the day.
As savage winds enrage her mighty sails,
all full ahead she parts her harbor stay.
Her ballast stones hold true through rising swells;
no finer souls have e’er put under way.
Her foe, the "Deft", held many scoundrel tales
in boast of treasures gathered underway.
She’d loot a craft whose measured swiftness pales...
seemed fitting for the meeker ships to pay.
But on this day those spoils are not to be
for destiny says "Deft" must face the "Spree".
The Fight ~ On guard, they meet, but soon the sea rebels,
they tack and jibe in time to death’s ballet,
and once in range, each send their cannon shells
to find their targets in this last foray.
The cresting breaks resound the bellowed wails
from angry grinding waves and thrashing spray.
The "Deft" is doomed and soon her rigging fails...
a starboard roll would be her last display.
The mighty "Spree" rang eight the count in bells
to honor all who perished in dismay,
then slowly sank to join her pirate quells
in sodden slumber ‘neath the Longoar Bay.
We sculpt the hero heart in effigy
but heroes gain no mercy from the sea.
Night is looming around.
Daylight he abandoned.
I sit near the edge of the pond.
Watching her transform,
her fashion for the night.
As light grows dimmer,
my night vision more clearer.
Moonbeam fondles the pond.
A fish reaches out to the moon;
but fails, falling; rippling her surface.
My reflection, dark silhouette.
seem to dance like a demon.
My conscience betrays my trust.
He seems to be mocking me?
Sounds of the tiny ripple of mistrust,
crashing against the edge.
Eroding the banks protecting,
the pond of dreams.
The cricket chirping yonder.
Frog croaking nearby.
My heart thumping gently,
Reverberates, on my temple throbbing pain.
The owl hoots calling her mate.
Beyond these sounds,
fireflies chase each other.
Night creatures, they are,
awakening from sleep.
I looked above, to be greeted,
by paintings of the clouds.
In shades of grey and black.
So I lay back on the grass.
zapped, to deep slumber from pain.
under the canopy of the Burgundy,
red trumpet shaped blossoms guarding me.
Dreams confuses my creative mind,
I came awake under the mid day sun.
In the still of the noon, I saw,
reflection on the tranquil pond.
gazing at me mockingly.
Questioning my vigor,
to protect my dreams.
Cannot endure my dreams,
to spill over the eroded bank.
So my devious mind whispered,
words of wisdom guiding me.
Badgered me to protect my dreams.
So I plunged into the yawning.
To deepen the pond, preserve my dreams.
Cold, she warped her arms around me.
Squeezing the breadth out of me.
Shocked by the impact,
I inhaled, the cold green.
Gently, descended the floor of the pond.
My silhouette, was nowhere, seen.
I was not gasping for breath.
My mind was loosing herself
The clouds they seemed betrayed me.
I rest at the base of the pond.
Surrounded by darkness at noon.
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
I once owned a uniform that shone in pride
The polished brass, creases and lines
An army of friends and civilian respect
I marched upon every street, placed every laureate
The glowing admiration, the tireless market
Of gazing faces that sung even to the heartless
Badgered by memories that I couldn’t forget
Now withered and worn the years of regret
My mental battle the suffering toll of silence
No words I could mouth about the raw entirety
Flashbacks of those wars supplying me
But I sit a cluster of before
My battlefield a daily occurrence of aimlessly wandering
In routine emergence
of seeking cigarette butts and borrowing more time and beer
To drown out the battle none but mine could hear
I clamber from bush broken sunlight, coughing up
The empty sobriety of reality
Just a used device a human resource
Hoodwinked and lead noose in ignorant obligation
A never-ending instigation from mind emancipation
From this dumb founded degree of humiliation
Drunken laughter upon this man once bold
Pissing on the soul, and soles of my ragged boots I couldn’t maintain or even hold
Completely neglected by all I did serve
Now served by a starvational solitude
A face that none could remember, a shadow of my youth
Just aloof, wandering every day until my feet give up from the holes in my boots
Until I drop dead like the rest of the ‘glorious dead’
Should have been left with my rifle on a battlefield proper
Something my mind could accept, something I would now offer.
And who would care and would begin to wonder
Who these men were and why in such slumber
After all I am just a homeless soldier.
Annoyances
One of the first things to go is that
never appreciated tactile proficiency.
The ability to find the car keys in an
overstuffed bag. Close your eyes. Tell
me if it’s a raisin or a kumquat.
Tying my shoes is not so troublesome
as is the re-tying of them. I’m back to
being the kid whose shoe laces untie
themselves. Decaffeinated coffee sets
me on edge. So does going to a steak
house and ordering chicken. The worm
in the Tequila bottle. The have a
nice day sign at the entrance to the
rehab. People with “Bluetooth”
thingies stuck in their ears trouble
me. Time was the guy waving his
arms and talking to himself was
a sign you should cross the street
and not make eye contact. Texting,
if you want to send me a letter please
put it in the mail and let the nice
Post Office people deliver it. If you
wish to talk to me please call or
stop by for coffee. Directions annoy
the hell out of me. They are usually
written by someone who never tried
to put the damn thing together using
their directions. The GPS lady really
bugs me. I’d rather get lost than
badgered by her recalculating tone.
Kayakers who paddle over and ask
me how the fishing is today make me
want to torpedo their boat. Popcorn
really bugs me. Ice cream head rushes,
forks touching that filling, small toys in
my shoes, and being old annoy me.
So I get even. My mantra is simple.
Places to go. People to annoy.
John G. Lawless
2/10/2013
Submitted to
Things that Annoy Me contest
Happy. Genial. Merry. Jolly
Blottoed, blasted, etched and blitzed
Mellow, foggy, hazy, squiffy
Tipsy. Tiddly. Brahms and Liszt
Dazed, zombied, tanked-up, trollied
Ganted, gubbed, guttered
Bladdered, blathered, leathered, plastered,
Sozzled, sloshed, scuttered
Hammered, battered, caned, mangled
Spannered, mullered. Half-cut, lashed
Twisted, warped, slammed, wasted
Wrecked, ruined. Munted, trashed
Liquified, marinated, juiced, sauced,
Steamed, pickled, fried
Cabbaged, mashed, cooked, baked
Boiled, stewed. Pie-eyed
Stinking. Howling. Pole-axed, floored
Under the influence. Off one's woo
Steampigged, badgered, ratted, goosed,
Clobbered. Lairy. Boogaloo
3 sheets to the wind. Away with the fairies
Under the table. Tight as a tick.
Ankled, wellied, trousered, legless,
Bevvied, swizzled, pot-sick.
One over the eight. Out nibbling the grape.
Rosy. Rummy. Poggled.
Jober as a sudge. Laughing at the carpet.
Seeing double. Boggled.
Lubricated, oiled, pixilated, ploughed
Intoxicated, inebriated. On the grog
Wobbly, jungled, off to the races
Lit up, shot down. Cocked as a log
As a lord, as a piper, as a fiddler, as a poet,
As a newt, as a monkey, as a skunk
As a sailor, as a mouse, as a pig, as a fart
Muddled. Fuddled. Or just plain drunk
Words and experiences, many of us share
And I'm sure there's a few that I've missed
But while some get "tired and emotional"
I just prefer to get…
There was never any controlling it?
No dodging it. Unloading it?
It stuck us both together and held us tightly in its grip
We tried our hand at moulding it
?Healing it. Holding it?
It wanted us together; head, heart and thrusting hip
Once, we nearly cornered it?
We threatened it. We warned it?
But it came once more and sheltered us, ‘till we fought with it again.
Black bruised we gently eased it
?We blew on it and teased it?
We rescued and revived it, till it burst back into flame
Then life drove us and we dashed it?
Thrashed it. Trashed it?
Tested every fibre, every ounce of strength it had?
We badgered it and blagged it,?
My word! How we have shagged it!
?It flared again and gave us, all the pleasure that it had
We disrespected and abused it.
?Never soothed it. Smoothed it?
Caressed or contemplated, its very gentle deeds We hounded it. Confounded it.?
In drink, we’ve damn near drowned it
?But still, it softened life for us and satisfied our needs
This love, it lays between us
?Binding us. Bleeding us?
The tether and the freedom that only it can give Searing us. Endearing us?
Together, there is no fear in us
?This 'It'? Well, that's simple. 'Tis the reason that we live
We are badgered by the media most every other day,
Blaring that self-appointed conjurors want to take our God away!
Maybe they should be challenged with more productive things to do,
Like caring for the hungry and homeless, ceasing such hullabaloo!
Seems that most folks find The Creator comforting and consoling,
And can do without others' jaundiced views and constant cajoling.
It wouldn't harm our youth to respect The Ruler of this celestial ball,
Or they might grow to adulthood respecting little or nothing at all!
A few misguided souls tout the First Amendment and free speech,
When any mention of God is made, thinking it an alarming breach!
Did they ever consider they are infringing on another person's right,
When they want to cease the mention of God in things we say or write!
Prayer is out of schools, they want to change the Pledge of Allegiance,
Deleting all references to God and His much needed munificence!
The Ten Commandments are no longer desired for general public view.
How dare they presume that they are offensive to me and you!
Great civilizations have crumbled from far less than we condone.
The vast majority of folks believe there is a God yet on His throne,
Praying that one day to this great nation sanity will be restored.
As the Psalmist said, "Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
She wanted a big production wedding,
badgered her fiancee into going along
with the bad idea
Get the marriage started off wrong
Money that needed to be saved, not squandered
on some reality TV thrill
She was used to getting her way,
had the right chemistry skill set to maudlinly operate
Mix insincere tears with theatrical screams;
shake the anger beaker and her gaseous speech start bubbling,
gasping for air ... ready to explode
Fake fainting and pitiful groveling:
She’s the best supporting actress at causing a scene
Don’t get her started, she’s a drama queen
The day before the rock star nuptials,
she’s not feeling good about the Bridezilla dress
Says it makes her look like a garage bargain mess —
gives her a mannequin big waist, small chest
and a bottom flatter than a desk
This thespian woman got other mad skills too
that she can bring
Skull Island drama queen,
who can Judy Garland sultry siren sing,
and get Baby Jane King Kong mean
Bugged out on the unpolished chandeliers
and the late arriving catering
It’s bringing out the worst side of the drama queen,
and everybody knows:
She’s the best supporting actress at causing a scene
But her girlfriend is the best actress in the hood,
a genuine, Hollywood Hall of Fame drama queen —
She can delivery every kind
of emotional line
with perfect timing