Long Breach Poems

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


God Is....

"Color me red" this he did say 
                                                  This is Satan and you must obey

                                                  The call of the wild for is it ok?

                                                  Who cares as I destroy the day

                                                  The red you color is from your vein

                                                  The ink that spilled from ever shame

                                                  You raped a child in the name of me

                                                  You will now suffer ever in eternity 

I feel the words escape from your dying breath, "Please Lord dont take it out with 
a noose around my neck" 

For if you kill me you kill your religion, I promise you, if this noose falls through 
the gallow then I will trek

I will find your kind in the after life, even if it down in the basement with your wife, I 
will come and get you

You're the one who told me so, created my mind to enlist your blow, is this a 
reason you are telling me?

That I must not fight but run away in flee? I'm a coward like you, you see, I die for I 
believe in your creed

                                                 "My son you are not one of mine

                                                  I enlist your soul to preach my kind

                                                 You create your own from words of mine

                                                 Now rot in hell for the breach of time

                                                 And conjur a smell to remember your lie

                                                 Befriend your mind as you are left to die

                                                 Alone as you wish for your wish is a cry

                                                You are no longer a part of my embassy

                                                Trade your wings for the treatory that be

                                                For a mask supposed to look like me

                                                Horns for you stab at your constant envy

                                                Dont you ever compare you with thee

                                                For are weak and f&ck all that you percieve
© Penn Kname  Create an image from this poem.
Form:


Upbeat, the Islander: Upbeat Comes To Terms

I'm a simple guy,
I like video games, music and succeeding without trying,
So when a man comes up to me and tell me he can save my life,
Who am I to turn down a free book from a generous passerby,
Strange how after hundreds of Reddit articles I find these red words the most astounding,
Each verse saturated with a truth beyond my understanding,
I embraced the scripture in my new-found belief,
Ditching skeptics and scientific contention for a biblical motif,
So with my newfangled faith I embarked on a holy endeavor,
To sift through a lifetime of personal uncertainty to uncover the answer,
I found myself under bottomless pizza boxes,
Buying time stocks from the evolutionary clock,
Discovering purpose through glimmering game discs,
Fashioning polygonal personalities into personable obelisks,
Uncovering the depths of my psyche excavating mountains of dirty laundry,
Rinse on, dry off, purging both physical filth and emotional quandaries,
Sharing walkways with speeding cars enslaved to a monetary duty I can't shirk
A journey of a thousand steps every pilgrimage to work,
My blood a bubbling brew of ambition and potential,
Yet required to surpass insurmountable credentials,
Ignoring the marked symbols in newspapers they seek to brand on my forehead,
Subjective opinions of civility and idealism dropped on me like warheads,
Cryptic predictions of personality and fate,
You think I need a dice roll to determine if I'm straight?
Countless evaluations to rationalize the psyche and soul combined,
What makes their opinion more viable than mine?
I'm taking buoyant steps upon the swamp to reach my destination,
Swapping carnality for divinity to achieve the ultimate self-preservation,
Cremating my mortality I seek to ascend,
Past primitive understanding of a purpose I cannot comprehend,
This road we walk is coated with trip-wire and paved with scorching coals,
Watch out for those flaming hours in your 5-day forecast so find the nearest foxhole,
The burden on our shoulders has already been lifted so there's no reason for us to be aching,
We're on the path to eternal salvation why aren't we skipping?
So why don't you tag along with me on this self-realization odyssey,
I can't promise explosions or tentacle-headed aliens but I know it'll at least be interesting,
Just you, yourself, me and I,
The most dynamic duo to ever breach the sky.
Form: Rhyme

Wimpole Street, Part 3 of 7

(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who 
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)

The Candyman Can’t

Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not.  We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.

One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole.  Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner.  Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.

The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm?  Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars?  How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm?  The problem goes away!

This ruse is known as “equity”.  It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason.  What to do?  Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers.  Such affairs
drag on for years.  The lawyers?  They get theirs!)

Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now.  It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices.  Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street?  He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”

But Bridgman lost.  One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough.  Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey.  The latter
has lots of lowly types.  It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.
Form: Couplet

The Footfalls Towards Forever - Part 2 of 3

… On The Gist of Where A Gather Melts Hate’s Glacier
On The Nexus of Need & Knowing True Love’s Nature
On The Passage of Innocence To Please Forgive Us Prayers
On The Way To Meet Wide Open Arms of Our Maker
On Edge of Evening and Eden’s Promised Favors …

stretched The Trail of Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …

There Lay A Storm-Tossed Loch Between The Rifts
A Charcoal Sky That Seemed Heavy & Propped By Stilts
She Was At The Limits of Her ‘All That She Could Do Lists’
She Was On The Verge of Vanishing Into Vanity’s Myths
While Searching Between Urgency and An Internal Eclipse

… ventured the Interim of Soft Footfalls Towards Forever

She Took One Last Stiff ‘Uisge Beatha’ Spirit-Sip To Lips
She Heard The Last, Lone Note of A Bagpipe’s-Signal, Lilt
Envisioned The Strong Stance & Clan Colors of His Kilt
and The Rich-Hued-Tow Head, Which Shone Like Gilt …

 as He Strode The Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
(Her Eyes Closed But Her Course Kept At Canter)
 
Eyes Closed … Tho’ That’s Not Why It Had Gone Black
She Can Nay See How To Finish Thru To Their Trek-Pact
She Must Rest On A Narrow, Not-Well-Beaten Path
Will He Cover The Distance From What Her Last Legs Lack?
… Even If She Has Stopped & Dropped Dead In Her Tracks
Will He Come To Find and Bring Her Unfalteringly Back? …

from Earth-Packed, Soft Footfalls Towards Forever?
Her Eyes Closed, But True Love’s In-Sight, Closes Never


He Found Her, Eyes Closed … Swollen, Squeezed Into Slits
He Saw The Puffed Flesh Where The Poison Had Been Spit
He Saw Her and Traced The Tears She’d Held Back Then Spilt
Saw Her Lovely Face Framed By Curly Dark-Red, Wet-Wisps
& Finger-Nail Marks Where Her Hands Clenched Into Wee Fists …

Formed & Fashioned Her Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
(His Bonny Lass, Woven In His Tartan & Tam’s Token Feather)

He Saw The Emerald Heirloom Wrapped Around Her Wrists
But He’d Not See In This World, Her Twin Sparkles, Again A–Glist’
His Own Eyes Became Mirrors of A Flooded Dam That Split
He Took On The Burden That She Had Endured This Tryst
Yet He Could Not Bear The Thought of Her Feeling A–Jilt
As He Carried Her Where Clouds Covered Them Like Quilts
 Each Sorrowed Step & Stone & Step Spanned Breach & Breath & Built …

the Bridge That Balances & Blankets:  Footfalls Towards Forever …


(to be continued on Part 3 of 3)


Written & ©:  1/ 3-6 /2013

by:  MoonBee Canady
Form: Ballad

The Amalgamation of Life

I might seem cold and beyond your 
reach 
Far from your love
Distant and aloof
Guarded by walls
To strong to shatter
Stubborn and contained
No deeper you may go, no further 
can you prevail

A sinister shadow
My mind paints
Of love, and sweet nothings
All irrational, all fake
The wall remains
Permitting no breach
Not even a crack, no rift will it 
create

But beyond the darkness
Beyond the unwilling guide
You seem to have lit a spark
Immaculate a warmth, subtle,a fire
Gently you urge, lovingly, towards 
the light
That’s breaking these walls
Making me fear, less, love’s sight 

With time, I can see
A change in the winds
Stony winters depart
Loving spring, you bring, to help me 
live
A warmness, to cherish, as it thaws 
all my fears
Frees my inhibitions
Drowns out my every tear

Every other, a trial, so bitter and 
unclean
Building hatred and resentment
Bringing heart wrenching sobs and 
gut wrenching screams
Your love, however, like silk, 
delicately she plays
Adoring, never ceasing, not passive, 
nor grave  
No fretting, agonizing, deeply 
rooted, so chaste
No fear of disappearance,
Like the glamorous crystals of rain. 

Each morning, I wake
To feel your love so great,
To mingle and meddle
And hold your embrace
To tease, and love, to forgive and 
forget
Of jealously and protectiveness
Of comfort, day and night and all 
that’s within.

Tête-à-têtes, aplenty.Sweet 
nothings, galore
Imploring and yearning, the 
distance to explode
Bashfully timid, those kisses that 
burn
Soft whispers, fond gazing, with 
butterflies and curling toes  
Of sweethearts, darling dearests,   
Of endearments, and flowers     
A love so ardent, so sanely insane.

Meaningful, not empty, your words 
will remain
For love, that you give
Romantic, yes, but not plain
Each moment with you, my love it 
shall grow
For seconds and minutes, I calculate 
no more
Complete and new, not hollow and 
cold
My dearest I shall love you, not 
leave you forever more  

Steady, firm, not cowardly, this love 
was born
Intense, she blossoms, intent, never 
flawed
For life, it seems, to have found my 
paramour
To live and be with
To marry and grow old
So know this my dearest
My love shall remain
With endless mingling, our souls, 
forever infinitely. Beyond all. Shall 
prevail
Form:


How To Repair the Breach

In order to repair the breach we must finally concede
that there's a disconnection from God that we must address by deed
for as naked as Adam and Eve were when they tried to hide from their sins
we need to take a long hard look inside ourselves once again
In the sight of God we're all covered with sin like dirt on clothes
we need to reposition ourselves so of our lives God can take control
we must be brutally honest and look within our own hearts
before we can attempt to judge others on ourselves we need to start
by the way we talk, our spiritual walk and the way that we behave
as none of us are sinless let's be more united in order to be saved
put the pettiness aside, throw out the trash, the personal baggage and issues
those titles, the positions, the ranks 
and prejudices that have us divided and confused

In order to repair the breach we must do a true self examination
remove the weight of sin from our hearts to be cleansed for spiritual preparation
to spend less time on those things that are not of God
to spend more time reading His Word and then taking It to heart
no longer to feel disconnected in our relationship with Jesus Christ
removing the plank from our own eyes in order to see the true joy in life
the joy of the Lord that gives us the comfort and the strength
that unlimited power supply that will go the entire distance
we must stop being so self-centered and to God open our minds
by disarming the enemy's influence and embracing God's Kind
to be there for each other more than superficially
to care and love one another more authentically
to recognize that Jezebel spirit so consumed with power and material wealth
to reveal and then rebuke it so we can retain our spiritual health
God desires to take us to a place of victory
we just need to stop being our own worst enemy

In order to repair the breach, the joy must be restored
that spiritual contentment that the Holy Spirit affords
so rediscover and reconnect to your Savior Jesus Christ
reestablish your commitment and the covenant of speaking life
forget about the trials and tribulations that God said He'd take care of
trust in Him to provide and then bask in His unconditional love
to have true gladness and the grace of God now within your reach
your connection with God has restored the joy and thus repaired the breach

The Pheasant

The weather was just how I liked it
Looking like it would stay dry
The breeze had the sharp tinge of winter
Beneath a low overcast sky

The thick blackthorn hedgerow behind me
Bordered the tangled beech wood
In front was a sowing of Rape seed
The shooting from here should be good

The ditch in which I was standing
Was shallow and recently dried
I put up my camouflage netting
As kind of a temporary hide

I looked across my field of fire
It spread further than buckshot would reach
So I opened my trusty old twelve bore 
And slipped two Eley five’s in the breach

I saw something off in the distance
Out on the old bridal trail
I knew straight away it was Reynard
I could see the white tip on his tail

This dog fox was working the hedgerow
Looking for something to eat
In a week or two he won’t be hunting
For vixens will soon be on heat

Then came a sound to my left side
I heard the dry rustle of leaves
I eased off the safety catch gently
And stood still not daring to breathe

Nearby from a patch of dead Teasel
A Pheasant was poking its head
It’s wattles were white as a snowflake
Round it’s eye was a dash of bright red

It’s head and neck seemed to change colour 
With a green and blue oil like sheen
It sported a thin clear white collar
The clearest one I’d ever seen

Cautiously into the open
It was only three meters away
I was stunned by it’ breathtaking beauty
This vision is with me today

It looked like a fowl made of copper
Each breast feather tinged with a Pink
And edged with the finest black outline
As if they’d been sketched in with ink

It’s wings were a blend of dark ochre
Mingled with olive brown hue
It’s tail was two thirds of a meter
What was this hunter to do

Quite unaware of it’s danger
It slowly strolled on to the crop
Carefully I raised my shotgun
But something inside me said STOP

No way could I fire at this vision
This beauty by me won’t be shot
I came to an instant decision
Find something else for the pot

I have enjoyed many a pheasant
Washed down with a bottle of red
The countryside here would be poorer
If this lovely creature was dead

The bird by now had become bolder 
and had wandered some distance away
With an unloaded gun on my shoulder
I went home having had a good day


I will have bread and cheese for my supper
© Roy May  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member IDENTITY FRAUD DETROIT MAFIA FORD COMPANY JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY PETER GARGANO

I AM AMERICAN I WILL NEVER FEAR DOMESTIC TERRORISTS COMMITING SEVERE IDENTITY FRAUD AGAINST ME RECIEVING ANNUITY PAYMENTS ON MY BEHALF IN MICHIGAN SEVERE IDENTITY FRAUD ACTUALLY RECIEVING DISABILTY PAYMENTS ON MY BEHALF WITH PETER GARGANO ORDERS HIS DETROIT HIT MEN INSURANCE FRAUD ALLSTATE AND FORD COMPANY ON BEHALF OF MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY AIRBAG BOMB DETECTIVE PARTS THE GARGANO CRIMINAL GROUP GATHERED IMPOSTERS JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY JAMAICAN DEALERS CATRINA BELL MIKISSICK CONVICTED VIOLENT OFFENDERS OBSESSED WITH MY AMERICAN POETRY HACKING INTO MY LIFE A SEVERE DATA BREACH BULLYING ME WITH INTIMADATION IMPOSTERS BECAUSE I WORE WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI TAKING DOWN CATRINA BELL MIKISSICK HER CORRUPT FAMILY OF JUNK SICK OFFICERS SEVERE ABUSE OF POWER WEARING BADGES COMMITING IDENTITY FRAUD AGAINST ME SADLY I HAVE SUFFERED FOR YEARS IN CONSTANT CONSTANT CONTACT WITH THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION PLEADING FOR THE IDENTITY FRAUD TO STOP CORRUPTION AT IT'S ABSOLUTE FINEST BULLYING A TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURED DISABLED AMERICAN IT IS HORRIFIC HORRIFYING MY DEATH IS BEING PLOTTED IN ORDER TO COVER UP THESE DOMESTIC TERRORISTS WITH BADGES JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY JAMAICAN DEALERS FROM TAMPA SEVERE DATA BREACH ON MY MEDICAL HEALTHCARE BANK FRAUD MAIL FRAUD INSURANCE FRAUD THIS VICIOUS DOMESTIC TERRORISTS IS INDEED A VERY DANGEROUS VIOLENT OFFENDER HABITUAL IDENTITY FRAUD IN AMERICA WHILE MY DISABLED SPOUSE AND I ENDURE HORRID THREATS EVERYTIME WE ATTEND DOCTORS APPOINTMENTS FORD TRUCKS TRY AND RUN US OFF THE ROAD BECAUSE THE DETROIT MAFIA CONTROLS THIS CRIMINAL GROUP IDENTITY FRAUD EXTREME TERROR BULLIES ATTACKING DISABLED VETERANS DISABLED FAMILIES IN ORDER TO FUND ELDERLY MOBSTERS GAMBINO BONNANO COLOMBO LUCHESE GENOVESE FAMILY BULLIES INTIMIDATING DISABLED VETERANS AND THEIR FAMILIES EXTORTING HEALTHCARE THE MAFIA NO LONGER WHACKING BOSSES IN SPARKS STEAK HOUSE THE SCORE IS NOW DISABLED AMERICANS DISABLED VETERANS BEING BULLIED BY THE AMERICAN MOB CENTRAL STATION DEARBORN MICHIGAN FORD LINCOLN REALIZING THE MAFIA IS ALIVE STRONGER THAN EVER CONTROLLING ABUSE OF POWER HEALTHCARE FRAUD INSURANCE FRAUD BANK FRAUD MAIL FRAUD DISABILTY FRAUD CYBERATTACK ATTACKING ME FOR BEING A CONFIDENTIAL HUMAN SOURCE FBI INFORMANT WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM JUNK SICK COPS BULLIES
Form: Lento

The mechanism of seeking the connection

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Especially with motivational bias
Intrinsic or decoherent formation
The access levels breach by human mass

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Is due the common bias that supports
Desire for all process automation
The physical the fitness is the sport

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Whether desires of others shall we satisfy
The mass affect on psyches with exemptions
The mechanism is probably WIFI

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Implies that humans are the chemical the mass
Because all these in Internet and politics “reactions”
TerminolOgy of the human this bias

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Are differenciated between you and wild
And while is none the business yours is wild the nature
I am also one of you if I am filed

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Between my file in organs and the me
Existed maybe be rather for the penetration  
The very outdated is your C 

So let's address ID of yours
They say when children are the young 
They seek their own ID

Perhaps their souls and their minds 
Won't really fall for category of the fashionable stan??
In search for their Ids
In time of war prepare for peace 
In time of peace prepare for war
What are you really for?

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Are fading as your prioritization are disproved 
In seeking many ways for the monetization
Your whole existence is a giant unwanted spoof

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Between radar of military and the airplane
You reckon,  buddy mine of the negation
That this particular the generalization
Would render system of your build as sane?

The mechanism of seeking the connection
Of weird human groups who's eager to assist
Resistance is a trait of this negation
My human right is kinda to resist 

The mechanism of seeking the connection 
Draws value out of you as you degrade
The round is degree of the 360
How is this calvin would convert to centigrade?

The mechanism of seeking the connection



The mechanism of seeking the connection



 
The mechanism of seeking the connection


 

The mechanism of seeking the connection



*organs are term in russian lingo for intelligence services, such as NSA in US, maybe because short for organization
© Kate Kelly  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Inferno

The taste of bile treads my thoughts,
Unwillingly my feet must now follow,
Source of inspiration guide,
Restore the signal fires now long lost,
Set beyond the temporal,
A path impassable by mortals,
The stairs of separation, 
I must recount lest others falter,
Every sin a means, an end,
To each soul lead only by itself,
Counterfeiting perfection,
The usurpers, scoffers are now debased,

Anger above unrestrained,
Bereft of a target consumes self,
The famed fountains of knowledge,
Once fresh, soon descend to stagnant seas,
But only the sealed can see, 
That for which they wait so patiently,
Bodies removed of the grave,
At attention stand upon their stones,
There encrypted, engraved,
Each history of self-enslavement,
Inheriting this decay,
A way in fissures fraught with danger,

Through the ravenous creatures,
Enthralled by the gravity of dust,
The ground to lie forever,
Fallow for jubilees once ignored,
Rising embers, never souls,
Seeking moisture, extinguishing both,
Lemmings to the precipice,
So did they rush only to accuse,
Perjuring with every word,
As fleeing reptiles forsake their tales,
Our course like a viper’s coils,
Round the kingdoms of brewing venom,

To behold the sepulcher,
We would visit the ten forsaken,
Follow the funeral march,
To find the center of the circle,
Like a town built on water, 
Pitched footings yet ever eroding,
Their footsteps marking cadence,
Unending chimes of doom impending,
Self and place once separate,
Consummate here in actions devoid,
Those who were lowered by pride, 
Moldering as risen ash returned,

Searching for what they know not,
To be entangled by serpents’ lies,
Fevered visions of the damned,
Lusting for the flesh of the living,
Soon to join the first fallen,
Trapped by their own perceived gravity,
The mass of death attracting,
The corruption of its own kindred,
Swaying the freedom of wills,
Tempting the words of the messenger,
We follow the Fisherman,
Whose breach left Hell lurching in its wake,

From the cavernous shadows,
We now turned toward the beckoning light,
Having fathomed the darkness,
To find its depth wanton and wanting,
Grieved, we left them to the night,
Dead ears hear neither thief, gate, nor keys,
Empty perceptions fall short,
He that protects, Justice is His name
© Luke Hobbs  Create an image from this poem.

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