Long Belittle Poems

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


Premium Member King of Lies

King of Lies

It's all about you,
Isn't it?
Always, no matter what the disaster
You've most recently caused.
It always comes back to you,
How badly you're treated 
By the Fake News
(By which we mean the real truth,
As reported by those Enemies of the People).

You, Oh naked would-be king,
Are the Enemy of the People.
And more, and more, and more of them
Are coming to understand that.

In a way I suppose you may be right;
After all, were it not for you,
We wouldn't be mocked by the rest of the world.
We wouldn't be force-fed 'Alternative Facts".
We wouldn't have our honor and our very lives
Held hostage to your need to be the center of all attention.

Your citizens are dying, by the way,
As you keep us floundering like a Third World country.
You haven't even the grace
Not to insult and belittle
The many, many everyday heroes among us
Who risk their lives incessantly
That others may live.

So go on, our unclothed wanna-be Emperor;
Make your pronouncements 
To your emptying, echoing audience hall.

You are king of one thing,
That is true:
You are the king of lies.
You have lied so much you have no idea 
What truth actually is.
You are delusional;
The reality you inhabit 
Is not our true reality.

There is a real world out here;
Believe it or not.
And one day the nightmare you've created 
Will fade into the grateful past,
You will be vilified
Down through the centuries,
And no one, not even your enablers
Will mourn your passing,
Not even your family,
Because you have no virtues.

Know this; you will die - soon;
No doubt this will be a great surprise to you.
But come it will,
And when it does, 
Will you be able to put forth any account for yourself?

Will a single human life
Have been improved
As a result of your existence?

No.

You will go down to Eternity
Unmourned.
Not your wife, not your children,
Not your spineless lickspittles
Will mourn your passing.
For this I pity you.

It must be nice
To be so isolated
From reality;
To just accept
That your version of reality is correct;
That everything works the way 
You want it to.
But this is not the case;
In the end it will be acknowledged
That you were the worst of all our Presidents,
And somehow, we survived you.

Thank God you will fade into our pasts;
Thank God we are stronger than you.


Synthetic Epidemic

Yet another soul taken away.
Another family's loss is great.
Another time tears rolled down this face.
Why won't they realize its purpose and quit making these mistakes 

Barely an adult still having child like thoughts
Barely coping with life and all that it's brought
Numbing the emotions is what is sought
But death is all that's caught.

They feel these struggles these days it's so hard to make ends meet
Opportunities are few they can't seem to get on their feet.
They prefer to forget their failures prefer to just sleep
And while attempting to be okay they forget to breathe

They look peaceful like the pain has left
But little do we know they are dangling so close to death
In a minute it's slows to one maybe two or just three breaths
And then....

They are gone right before your eyes
We scream to the heavens begging to know why
Our hearts our souls are devasted as our eyes cry.
Breaking us inside

It takes away our ability to cope
Some choosing the drug some not even knowing it's in their dope.
Killing the same whether or not you know 
So little of this drug can end  all hope

Listen to me hear what I am saying
If you know they are doing drugs then don't even play
Don't kick them out or push them away
Don't feed their habits but understand their ways

They don't mean to hurt you. No it's not an excuse. 
They want to be okay, to be clean but wonder what's the use. 
These days are hard even more so for our youth.
The pandemic, desocialization, struggling in work, at home, and in school. 

Give them knowledge, give them a reason to hope. 
Show them different ways to be okay and to cope. 
Don't belittle the addict, don't tie the knot in the rope. 
Restore their faith, don't let them turn even more to dope.

Don't whisper accusation
Don't deliver ultimatums 
Don't end relations
Don't add to their equations

Be honest, speak up, make your thoughts and feelings quite apparent. 
Allow them to show emotions as they scream and rant. 
Listen when they say they wish they could stop but feel that they can't.
Don't roll your eyes thinking that they can. 

Its dangerous and painful withdrawals,  emotionally and physically.
Don't push them away. They will need their family. 
And not just financially. 
Be patient for they'll recover eventually.
Stop the useless fatalities.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Revenge Is Not Always Sweet

People in my school have names for someone like me.
    Freak, crazy, weirdo, a spawn by the devil's decree.
        I took note of every malicious word they ever spoke,
            knowing that before long they'd no longer make me a joke.

None of them knew how truthful were their mocking words.
    They had no clue I could spread my wings to fly among the birds,
        with ravens that caw out for blood at the stroke of each midnight.
            I'd fill their haunting dreams with images of daunting fright.

A snip of dried herbs, a pinch of fungal root, boiled in fat of fowl,
    a concoction for me to savor, secreted to me by my mother, an owl.
        Eyes that see through bloodshot color, they would see them too
            when the full moon was high and the sky turned dark cobalt blue.

No help will they receive from a scream or gyrations to be free.
    They soon will know they should never have made a mockery of me.
        The time is near, my brew is cooled, now it's my time to have fun.
            Tonight their dreams will be nightmares, a gift from the evil one.

With their eyes closed, they will envision they are being chased
    by hundreds of bloodshot eyes, the likes of which they've never faced.
        Black robes adorned, scepter of wormwood waved from my hand.
            Eyes...  wild bloodshot eyes, will seek vengeance at my command.

Fog advances to the bedrooms of those who sleep in peace.
    My adrenaline is pumping, just a few more minutes until release.
        A snarl of satisfaction I feel curled upon my blood red lips.
            You won't belittle me again with your taunting nocuous quips.

NOW!  I gave the order for the eyes to creep into their dreams
    But my heart is beating too fast. This was not part of my schemes.
        I can't see a bloody thing. What's happened to the spell I cast?
            How long will this blindness torture me?  How long must it last?

A truant officer was sent to see what had become of the freak.
    Through a window he saw many ravens, all with bloodied beak.
        No body was discovered. All that remained was a robe of black
            and a note scratched upon the floor.  "Too late to take it back."



::::::::::::::::::::::::::
December 26th, 2015
Deep and Dark Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Our Peach

In a moment of magic I once gave her a juicy innocent peach

Not yet knowing that she harboured a sweet nascent dream

In which as a youngster she knew that she would marry the one

Who handed such a fleshy gift to the gypsy Queen of Fairy Land


Bestowed upon her by night’s prophesy she carried the vision of 

Requited love and blissful peace brought by subconscious longing

And spiritual clarity of a Higher Power submerged in compassion

A passionate fruit with soft skin and one huge seed of togetherness


		We eloped together into a new dawn


The doomsayers had a field day as they harvested bitter doubts

‘It will only last a couple of months and the peach will turn rotten’

‘You cannot feed on clairvoyant oracles and meek pagan beliefs’

‘They are deluded insane and caught up in misguided romance’


They called her a witch a seductress and labelled me irresponsible

With so much at stake painted pictures of broomsticks and failure

While we had found the jewel in a haystack without even searching

And set fire to the past as we danced naked around a fire of passion


		We knew the truth of intuitive feeling


One can never be sure what lies at the end of paths never taken

Whether road blocks and diversions belittle emotions and faith

But they who ignore heavenly signs forfeit adventure and truth

Stay stuck in spent time and hail its dubious comfort at their peril


We travelled and found a small hut on the beach out of sight

Collected starfish and driftwood and caressed wounded souls

Carved wedding bands out of sea shells and called upon dolphins

To witness our marriage surfing along happily ever since then


		A cormorant applauded the feast


Under a star studded canopy on the miraculous shore of belonging

We never strayed from what intuition and feelings offered for free

Meandered on the shoreline and set our sails into a magical ocean

Tasted the salt of a mindful earth and soothed our recovering minds


Never questioned the wisdom of our union shared by hungry souls

Treasure pleasure and joy weathered powerful storms and all tides

The cosmos donates all we ever need once we are willing to navigate

Waves and effervescence sparkling desire and in our case a peach


		Leading the universal way



13th May 2020

Premium Member Panacea in Colorful Bottles

Written: September 9, 2025, for contest sponsored by: Rob Carmack

Quote: "Lovers have heartaches that can't be cured by drugs or sleep, or games, but only by seeing their beloved" By Rumi

             **********

In the garland of ailments, we sip nepenthe,  
anodyne tinctures in elegant flasks—  
murmurous promises, beauteous masks,  
each fard a façade, each pill a palimpsest  
of pain rewritten in mellifluous ink.

Pneumology sings in stertorous sighs,  
dyspnea dances under the aegis of relief.  
We stroll through the lanes of this lush haven. 
The breathtaking tablets gaze into bliss.  
 
What trendy medicine pills and supplies 
Supply human beings with many ways to support? 
I share on the matter of preventing slurs.   
The breakdown of moiety and the rise of risk.  

For even the most ductile clay  
may crumble in the quagmire of misuse.

In the seraglio of spurious bliss,  
the simple and the iconoclast alike  
grasp the absurdity of escape.  
Acherontic powders, hexed and hissing,  
wafture through the penumbra of parties,  
where flapdoodle masquerades as rapture.

fear grips the veins—  
a jussive urge, impetuous and egregious.  
We extemporize joy, inhale incarnadine dusk,  
and resile from reason with pertinacity.

turbulent dawns, wan and woebegone,  
usher in ischemia’s kiss,  
a paucity of comeliness,  
a summary of sorrow.

The lush becomes lurid,  
the sumptuous turns stygian.  
Even the most miraculous odyssey 
may cease in necrotic silence.
Meliorism in time to come

Yet still, amid the desiccation,  
a scintilla of optimism coruscates.  
The riparian soul, lithe and lit with Love,  
may manipulate a raw moiety of meaning.

Through the shield of empathy,  
the one who heals  
may reclaim the palimpsest of self.  
Not all who inhale are lost—  
Some merely seek the empyrean  
through alternate doors.

Let us not belittle  
the addict, the patient, the seeker.  
Each belongs to a consanguineous ilk  
of yearning, of zoetic ache.

So let us offer not just palliation,  
but propinquity,  
not just summary judgment,  
but the sacred burnished balm  
of understanding.

Let Love be the panacea,  
let compassion be the coruscation  
that flickers in the penumbra  
of every pharmacological night.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Predilections of the Phallic Beast

Adulterous besieging capstone damnation
exploitation foists groping, heaving
insidiously jerking
knowingly lunges
machinations notoriously nymphomaniacal 
officiating penile quests
rapaciously, sadistically 
tenaciously, unstoppably 
vasocongested wickedness 
Xerses yawped zeolously.
*************************** 
All throughout history of  man/woman kind
ascendent civilizations extensively gouged, 
impailed, kindled, murderous outrages 
quashing sacred urges, women yearned.
***************************
Versatile thematic refrain punctuating nubiles 
maximized looting, pillaging, raping 
visited upon females via decimating fountainhead 
guarding brestworks of vestal virgins, 
innocent youths (little boys and girls).
***************************
Twenty first century *****Sapiens male population continue to applaud, covet, extol, gloat, invoke, kickstart, molest outrages, quest savagely thee unbridled wedded yoke appropriating coquettishly enshrined gals imposing killing mandates okaying queasy sordid ugly wretchedness yanking aborhent behavior denigrating, fulminating, harrassing, jawdropping lewdness, nabbing prized rearends, twerking, violently whiplashing, yelling zingers.
***************************
Now not a day elapses with instances women claim untoward advances, and/or forced coercion to satiate and temporarily slate the sexual thirst informing prononced picadilloes (philandering if married pompous head honcho demands appeasement of coitus, ********, indecent lowball outrageous ribald uncouth x-rated animalistic, carnal, feral, gonadal, immoral, kleptomaniacally misogynistic, narcissistic, opportunistic, pathetically reprehensible, torturously undervaluing, validating virility within Yankee Doodle, haply lambasting, proudly touting, vaunted wayfair zest.
***************************
The above meandering stream of consciousness attempted to amplify, a recent spate of accusations figuratively slapped against a male sex mongers, who specifically rule roost, and blithely, demandingly, forcefully, hideously, impishly, killingly, malignantly, opprobriously, powerfully, repeatedly, terminally, vindictively, wantonly, yearningly acrimoniously belittle, demean flagrantly, harshly insinuate keeping mindful, not publicize rabid tawdry unwanted villainous withering zeal!

My Old Bosses Funeral

MY OLD BOSSES FUNERAL 
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS 


Went to the funeral of my old boss
After several speakers I was at a loss
Who was this person they were eulogizing
Kind words and praise was so surprising
I knew him well for many, many years
Despised by family and also his peers
He was a tough  boss that never praised 
The toil of his workers, most thought him crazed
One speaker after another had bountiful praise
They must be mistaken or in a mental daze

Like I said I knew him well
Being around him was a living hell
His ex wife had nothing to say
His two daughters couldn’t make it today
His son sent a card but forgot to sign
It said” hi mom” are you having a good time?
I had an eerie feeling throughout the service
These lauding comments were making me nervous

I had to make sure I was in the right place
Walked up to the casket and stared at his face
I had to touch him to see if he’s cold
Lipstick and rouge made him look old
Underneath the makeup he was turning gray
Get him underground don’t wait another day
Sure enough the old codger was dead
But I couldn’t believe the plaudits  said


He was a bitter psychotic misanthrope
He was cheap a bigot a total mope
He was intolerant abusive and never approved 
To belittle and disarm was his every move
The praising went on like a marathon
It sounded as if they’re sorry he’s gone
It must be that he had more than one side
They’re talking about Dr. Jekyll I knew Mr. Hyde


BOSS’S  FUNERAL (2)



Later I learned what the praise was all  about
He left a fortune for his rep to dole out
Total discretion for his rep to give away
To anyone that had something real to say
Everyone here and others previously chosen
To say a few words about the recently frozen
They all praised and offered exaltations
Expecting a big payoff for their commendations


But when the will was officially opened
Not a thing awarded to those who had spoken
Instead everything was willed to his son
Cause he was best to continue his fathers run
Of all of my kin and friends it was easy to see
My son is a son of a ***** just like me
So he gets my wealth and also my genes
He’ll succeed using unscrupulous schemes
When its his time to turn from ecru to gray
He can expose the hypocrites as I did today
Form: Rhyme

What Are We Waiting For

where are the voices of the churches in the midst of this economic uncertainty?
where are the spiritual leaders the moral compass of society?
it seems that since the Rev. Dr. M.L. King died so has the fight for social injustice
what I want to know is why the leaders of the church 
seem to be sitting on the fence?
they seemed more concerned about building a new church
while their members are in a financial lurch

it's time to restart the movement by speaking truth to those in high positions
to let the Rebuplicans and Tea Party know it's not just them who can make decisions
we need to talk to our youth and tell them of what we've survived and endured
from slavery to the Depression now to this Recession that is closing down doors

they say they want smaller government when in actuality
they want to reduce the numbers of minorities getting decent salaries
for the government be it Fed, City or State is the largest employer
of the Black, Hispanic and Minority middle class structure

now they're going after the Unions trying to get rid of their collective bargaining tool
also reducing or cutting federal dollars to state universities and historic Black schools
how will our children ever be able to afford higher education?
connect the dots and see that it's a process of marketability elimination
WAKE UP MY PEOPLE why can't you see
what the Republicans are trying to do to the middle class families

so what are we waiting for? why have the churches not spoken out?
what are we waiting for? are the churches in denial and doubt?
it's time for the churches to step up to the plate
to speak out against what the Republicans are attempting to propagate
we now have an African-american man as President of this great land
yet the African-american church has yet to publically take a stand
we have not adminsihed those who belittle him and keep trying to take him down
we have not publically supported him nor have we made a sound

what are we waiting for? can't you see the writing on the wall?
if we don't act nor fight back we will all take the fall
what are we waiting for? it's time for the movement to restart
for us to be like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther king Jr. we need to do out part

Premium Member POETRY CHURCH


Not to belittle the real Church of God 
Not to belittle the real benefits of communion 
Not to belittle kneeling and praying for a miracle 
Not to belittle the laying of hands 
Not to belittle a good bear hug 
Not to belittle the hope of Christ’s return 
Not to belittle the Wrath of God 
Not to belittle the trials and tribulations of living 
Not to belittle delusions of grandeur 
Not to belittle the pain I feel 
Not to belittle wars and rumors of wars 
Not to belittle Global warming 
Not to belittle the great I AM 
Not to belittle the prophets of the Ages 
Not to belittle Buddha’s nonthought philosophy 
Not to belittle fairies in the flowers 
Not to belittle the sounds that Whale’s make 
Not to belittle the awe of a perfect Sunrise or Sunset 
Not to belittle the Man in the Moon 
Not to belittle Black Holes, Quasars and the immensity of the Universe 
Not to belittle microorganisms and viruses 
Not to belittle the glorious honey bee’s make 
Not to belittle the missing books in the Bible that women wrote 
Not to belittle the tear that trickles down my left eye 
Not to belittle sin and its impact on the human soul 
Not to belittle other people’s pain 
Not to belittle our belief that aliens are real 
Not to belittle my cat’s purring 
Not to belittle my neighbor’s beautiful lawn 
Not to belittle Superstar's getting rich, they deserve it 
Not to belittle being just a pawn 
Not to belittle the atrocities committed by Man 
Not to belittle feeling so alone in the Universe 
Not to belittle the pheromones of truth 
Not to belittle that The End is always near 
Not to belittle truth from the mouth of babes 
Not to belittle Bhai's attempt to unite religions 
Not to belittle the Sufi’s dance 
Not to belittle the Witch’s brew 
Not to belittle the Medicine of the Drum 
Not to belittle my belief in Pan 
Not to belittle the Heavy Metal screams 
Not to belittle pipe dreams and cold sweats 
Not to belittle the glow worm’s glow 
Not to belittle the lion’s roar 
Not to belittle when the earth quakes 
Not to belittle when volcano’s blow 

Not to belittle my belittling thots
                                                but Poetry Church is all I got.
Form: Rhyme

Relavent Beginning

sometime after the evident end
a relavent beginning can start
if we are not rigid, but able to bend
we can learn to open up our heart
many sorrows have receeded into memory
though our sadness still weighs so much
the good times may seem like fantasy
from our wounds we don't often lose touch

there comes a time in most of our cases
when the bad overwhelms the good within
then our soul cries out, andf fear hides our faces
recoiling from our selves, and the depth of our sin

this is the moment when all seems lost
and there is a terrible price to be paid
we confess, and become willing to pay the cost
if we want our monster to shrivel and fade

we must let out our anger and pain
cast to the wayside resentment
by losing much that is familiar we gain
a precious, and elusive contentment

happiness is found in largest measure
through others and mostly from giving
we need not pay to share in the treasure
happiness is free, and the richest goal of our living

through our eyes and others, we can be redeemed
if we open our minds and become willing
there is more to life than ever we dreamed
becoming empty with grace is fulfilling

there is a catch for us to forgive
we must seek mercy and understanding from those around
we have to have help if we would continue to live
we must kneel if we would place our feet on the ground

honesty is the power that gives us light
to see past our thoughts to our emotion
they can be our guides to wrong or right
while faith can set our recovery in motion

we can learn to regain our forgotten joy
if we grasp the truth and hang on
though it will often irritate and annoy
our right to deny and belittle is gone

this is a difficult and emotional task
honesty, willingness, and open minds without fears
fotr those there is help, you need only ask
thousands like you have recovered for years
----------
 to the wise, never trust a Christian, and probably not anybody else.  Trust God, in your 
prayer closet, and, the walls may have ears,
 
and the people who may hear?  jump to conclusions, are ignorant, concieted, and don't know 
YOU

TRUST GOD, "THE Sponsor"
==============================================

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