Long Belittling Poems

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


My Sweet Relief

Living yet I’m not alive 
Frivolously stupefied 
Uncaring of myself and I 
Nonchalantly undefined 

I used to compete but there’s no glory 
Victory always unrewarding 
Someone would appeared before me 
Dispossessing the importance 

Progress would demoralise
Feeling bad after you’ve tried 
All that effort was applied 
Just to leave you dead inside 

Punishments for doing well 
Turning happy into hell 
Flip success into a fail 
how do you ever excel 

Belittling what I achieve 
Telling me about my failure 
Eventually make me believe 
I am nothing but a failure 

Some mates have a bitter streak 
Take you down when you succeed 
Teaching you a winning streak 
Is not something you ever need 

Unprepared or unprotected 
It doesn’t really matter now 
care for myself is neglected 
Life will only bring you down 

Every time I’m motivated 
Times that I’ve overachieved 
I seem to be annihilated 
Death will be my sweet relief
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member an angry alliterated agony ferociously flowing

an angry 
alliterated agony
ferociously flowing

the treacherous
tenacious trumping tactics,
tell truth tales,
of our outrageous
pompous, pontificating potus,
holding hungry hostages,
hanging hopelessly helpless;

weary worn warriors, walled 
by bigotry’s belittling:
pitiful poor panicking people,
lingering like lynched lackeys;

veiled villainous vampire 
dictator, dooms
democracy, demanding
america accepts asinine,
audacious aristocracy;

when will we wake
and audaciously approach
regaining revoked rights;
evil envy, eventually eviscerated?

infectious ingrained idiocy, 
can’t continuously control
conscious citizens,
purposely propelling
people power,
to triumphantly
trounce this
tainted tyranny:

pretty please,
look…listen…learn…
legal legislation!

Premium Member The Year I Give To Myself

I hope to redeem myself by being nicer to me
in this new year
I was not kind last year, or the year before,
angry with my body for failing me
Taking no blame
This year I am smarter, wiser, an owl really.

I will take flight at night, zooming into
the cosmos, learning what I can about 
human health, so I can better take care of
myself.

I will listen to my angel guides while I dream,
and will stop belittling myself in any kind of
way. I am never going to learn math, and
do I care really? Absolutely not!

This year will be the year I give myself
permission to play. I will pick up my paints,
and I will smear colors together, creating whatever
I want, believing in myself, fully and completely.

Does it matter that no one else likes my art?
Absolutely not; it is the joy of the journey,
and the thrill of learning new processes that
will entice, intrigue, and bring bliss to this owl.

I will be more “me” than I have ever been before,
and I will be gentle, and stop hurting my feelings.

Sickening

7/9/20
"Sickening"

This is sickening
And quickening
Not at all, what I was envisioning
Nobody listening
Most chickening
Fidgeting
And limiting
Themselves to the point of being crippling
The effects rippling
And tripling
On top of it, we've got social distancing

Still dribbling
I've been chiseling
And scribbling
No matter what has been incoming
Pivoting
And occasionally grimacing

The temperature freezing, cold, mild or sizzling
The weather icy, windy, calm, scorching or drizzling

Clowns continue giggling
Petty people are still belittling
Over every little thing
Not all that riveting
It's becoming uninteresting

Sometimes I sip, sometimes I swig
Sometimes I flip the script
Even though sometimes it's rigged

Before opportunities are shriveling
And dwindling
Got to get it quickly
And differently
Meanwhile all senses are tingling
Form: Rhyme

Mean Mien Donald Trump

Former CIA Director
John Brennan scathing headlines
Washington Post op-ed sharply
published critical accusations

muted excoriation slams
Commander in Chief
volcanic blatant pathological lying
spews like lava his American

foreign policy boilerplate brazenly
bastardizes by banditry blueprint,
balefully balkanizing beautiful bracketed
booming brady bunch brand,

bests best-buy buffer braking balanced
bastion, bolstered beloved benighted
bequeathed bicameral bipartisan bliss,
Baptizing bacchanalian buffoonish bombast,

betokening bobble-headed Bumstead,
barmy bartered bride bravado, bizarrely
brash brassiness, blindsiding behavior,
beetlebrowed bonehead, bafflingly baldfaced,

bankrupting, blithely bollixing,
bombastically belittling, badmouthing,
banally blasting, banana-boat baseless,
bearish blandishments, beastly boastful

boosterism, bellicosely boorish, bug-eyed,
bighearted, bigoted blathering breeding
blunderbuss bloopers, bewildering
bloodletting bellyache blight,

brazenly being bandying bellwether,
blitzing bourgeoisie balderdash,
balking but beaming barbaric
berserk ballyhoo backbiting,

backslapping backstabbing 
blacklisting bromides,
besetting basic bestowed blooming,
Bobbitizing bedeviling beneficial
bulwark bereft badinage, ballistically ballooning
betrayal birthing bedlam.


Give Time Some Time

She was the love of my life
My first love, my only love.

Back in high school,
She was a perfect 10--
Poised, beautiful and sexy,
The center of my world,
The apple of my eye;
Whatever I did, I did for her,
I hung onto her every word,
My eyes constantly sought her,
I breathed her name,
She reigned over my
thoughts and dreams.

And then, my world fell apart
When she jilted me and
married my best friend.

It's been over 30 years
since I last met her
And couldn't help wondering
What was it of her that
so hopelessly attracted me?

Here she is now,
Standing just next to me
Yet seems far away,
Babbling away trifling things,
Looking plain and homely,
Uninteresting, unattractive!

Funny how time has a way of
belittling our loftiest dreams,
Ridiculing our fervent ideal,
Wearing out our most
passionate longing;
But also healing
our deepest wounds--
If only we give
Time some time!


First Love contest by Frank Herrera

Premium Member -LIFE IS NOT A BATTLE FIELD - POTD

Be strong in your beliefs and opinions 
Give and receive them respectfully 
Discuss , debate, disagree , 
Devoid of anger and intimidation 
Be polite and behave graciously

Don’t try and change opinions 
Or what others believe
With intimidation and insults
Just amicably disagree 

Why the desire to be hurtful
Trying to out-speak and outdo 
Using sarcasm just to be heard
Desperate for control and that final word

Stop being childish and hateful
Bullying is not a game
Spewing ugly vindictive words
Is not the way to make positive change

Insecurities play a part with bullies
Due to lack of self worth and self esteem
Feeling stronger in who they are
When humiliating and simply being mean

Strive for a better way
Strive for a more positive you
There are no wrongs or rights
Just different  points of view

Try kindness and compassion
Seek qualities in your fellow mankind
Don’t engage in belittling interactions
Igniting troubled minds

Life is not a competition 
A constant game of tit for tat
Being confrontational and critical
Is not the way decent humans act 

You have created your own personal battle field
Fuelled by antagonism and controversy
It must be so emotionally draining
Being consumed with malice and negativity
© Deb M   Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Remembering Persecution Days

Buried in the dungeon of oblivion
Was the agony that once gripped me
When I was persecuted because of my faith
As a new convert to Christianity which the Bible teaches.

Now, the memory of such phase in my life is being resurrected
While I’m engrossed watching a significant event in world history,
The Dark Ages with its gruesome horrible Inquisition Period
Exposing the “Martyrdom of the Fathers of Our Faith.” 

Vividly, the images of religious persecution prevail with glorious triumph
As they present fervent devotion to the almighty sovereign God
Expressed by those illumined by the Holy Spirit and freed from sins’ shackles  
Whose raison d'être was to please their supreme Creator 
like what the New Testament saints did, who even asserted:
“We ought to obey God rather than men.”

With such nostalgic mood, I’m reminded of how the Lord worked in my life
When I was once under fiery trial in my young believer’s life
By the tender mercy of God along His compassionate might 
I emerged victorious --- praising Him, exalting His name
Assured of my Saviour’s precious words in John 16:33:
“…In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; 
I have overcome the world.”

Thus, amidst sufferings that go along my commitment in serving God
Despite consternation belittling my sacrifices for heavenly pursuits
I’m humbled to abide in the will of my Master, 
bearing in mind this Scripture’s truth:
“Yet if any man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed; 
but let him glorify God on this behalf” (I Peter 4:16).

October 10, 2018
3rd place,	"REMEMBERING WHAT YOU WANT TO FORGET" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Rodrigues; judged on 10/15/2018.

Premium Member Cruel Cutting Comments


A poetry virgin... that was me
going through a purple patch,
a dismal dark period in life
Desperately needing an outlet
to focus on instead of the now...
this trying time I had to endure

I joined Poetry Soup to have fun
My ultimate aim was just
to bring a smile to others.
But 'HE' couldn’t stand the fact
that what I called my simple scribbles
were more popular than his sonnets...
He considered himself a poetry God
and me? He referred to me as
just a pathetic poet, penning poop

So, the belittling of my poems,
and the cruel comments about them began

He was SO desperate to be top dog,
even challenging me to a poetry duel.
The tide of his anger turned against me 
as if they were waves trying to crush me.
He was obsessed with putting me down,
drowning me in his wake.

I was at an all-time low ebb in life
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.
My notepad scribbles were smudged,
stained with the torrent of my tears
My pen bled ink blots like blood,
then dried up like a creek devoid of rain.
For seven dismally long days, I wrote nothing.

BUT powerful persuasion from poetry pals
forced me to face the reality I needed to see.
"Why should you allow that puffed up pompous prick
to stop you from writing what you feel?"

That was a wakeup call for me.
More than just a change in the wind.
Eleven years have passed; I am STILL here...
with two books published under my name.
There are still trolls who like to torment
and demean me, I will never, EVER...
give another troll the opportunity to do me in!

Premium Member Aspiring Alliteration Completed 2-28-23

All answers affect aspirations
By belittling bygone barbarizations
Constantly criticizing correlations
Defined dumbfounded dictations
Edicts evaporate everyone's expectations
Foregone frustrations failed flirtations
Gone great grace giving generations
Harmonies have harmonious hesitations
Impotence influences indignations
Justified judicious justifications
Killing kaputz keratinizations
Living life lonely leaves lacerations
My muse motivated monumental mutations
Nonsense needed no normalizations
Offended overintellectualizations
Past promises purely placations
Questioning quarreling quotations
Resisting relevant restifications
Sentient solutions solve segregations
Total trust triumphs trepidations
Utopias undermined ultralizations
Viciousness visualized victimizations
Worthless weaponizations
Xenodochial xenophilications
Yawn Yuppifications
Zenith zealousness zendrifications

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