Long Categorically Poems
Long Categorically Poems. Below are the most popular long Categorically by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Categorically poems by poem length and keyword.
Some countries were built on more lies.
You can hear their citezens claiming to be
Majority Christians while they look like
pharisees and scribes because of their acts.
Christianity opposes hate and discrimination categorically.
What type of Christians are they when majority
of them don't conside other people as human beings?
Don't they push us to question some early preachers
who preached the unjust countries?
When we visited some churches in some multi-racial countries and found people of same colours only
allowed to be there.
It was shocked majority of us when we were told
that they could not allow some people of other colours
( or tribes or from other countries ) in their services.
Jesus said,"Love your neighbours as you love yourself."
If you failed to love the neighbours how do you mean
to love God whom you don't see?
Do you really know God?
They claim to know God , but their actions they deny him. They are detestable, disobedient and unfit for doing anything good.
Titus 1:16
Whenever a hater means to love and know God,
he "she" is lying to himself " herself."
Many apostles were killed innocently
because of teaching and preaching the truth.
75% of believers of the world hate the truth while
claiming to love Jesus Christ.
Jesus answered , " I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.
John 14: 6
It is so hard to go to the Father when you hate the Truth... (Jesus is the Truth)...
The Way has truth which sunctify followers.
He is the true way which leading to heavenly God.
In other way , some Evil people learn the true word of God to repent their sins( to change) and become pure
in the eyes of God.
When a hater " or discriminator " means to be pure in front of God 's presence , he " she " lies to himself " herself."
It is time to rebuild on the truth , else where hell will continue receiving more clients.
Notice:
This message concerns all the people of different races who made hate and discrimination as their masters.
" All the people who still in wrong doings"
Don't feel guilty as your name is not pointed ...
It is a global message.
It is up to you to read,
or share
or comment on it...
Thank you.
Rumination on the ruination of water
A pleasant clearing with lots of grains
but only a touch of water,
the trickle trailed through transparently
and so the migrating chickens stayed,
but as the flock expanded there emerged
the problem of the water flow
both quantity and quality
To waste means want, to change or to clamber on
the chickens debated cluck-ed and scold-ed.
Two sided and entrenched they were,
what option did they have, to move was foolish,
would cost resources the time invested to purify
much more worth a look, but studies said
categorically, that nothing was amiss,
while the trickle trailed through translucently.
They washed and scraped and pooed some more
and the trickle it did change, it now trailed through turgidly
and the chickens scolded and sickened.
Desperation enforced decision and debate resulted in action.
Powder was bought to make clean water but, there was no mixer
…and the costing was extorting… time for emergency measures!
Hang the cost and go for broke, debt for future generations.
Dig and scrape and make a lake! …well at least a puny pool or pond…
providing clean and clear; crystal and ethereal,
surley this would be achieved.
But before the water could reach the middle it passed
through mire deep and dense, there was no clause
in the contract to clean it and so;
the crystal water became a beautiful emerald. That it was a
pulchritude, a positive feature the chickens were assured
by all of economic sense and ability. No one wanted to argue
because they weren’t quite sure what it was they were told.
But still more scolding and sickening.
entrepreneurs began to stock their medicines and cures
the chickens bought them and rather than shift stayed in their rift.
That place downstream that plants had cleaned, lay green
and fresh and forsaken. When this was raised they were horrified!
¨We would die!¨, the chickens did cry,
rather than drink downstream of this mess.
So they did.
Except for the rooster who retired downstream, still visits above
to scrape and to scratch. The grains grow huge with their liquid food
and, with a mist in his eye, he transcends the loss of his friends.
©T.Arnold
Archetypes flash straight from a pack of Tarot cards
anti-terror Jing Jang synthesis with neuro-spiritual precision
implants explosive animation from the deep unknown
like a taro rootstock growing wings to fly with found suspension
Stereotactic stereotypes archetypes semi-circling soothing storm clouds
thunderbolts and enlightening darkness are my enema of anxious anger critique
of the mono-morph collision of the scalpel shadow ‘Prozacian’ nemesis
neology of ‘animusity’ of ‘newfoundlandel’ comprehension
Dialectical complementation rises higher and higher culminates in
ethereal transcendence where collective personal unconscious
presents my animus in wishful thinking and projections as
soft and gentle revel rebel raising entropy in tender conservation to escape from
Dogma categorically demanding artificial classification replacing with dimension
flow and rivers stagnant pools of stream of consciousness evading
sexist fragmentation disenfranchising marginalisation assigning male
and female emasculated o-variation where seminal origin implantation
Precedes nurture socialised indoctrination assignment of celibate promiscuity
My animus refuses to accept in emotional rejection whether Jung and I read
symbols from the same page or not of masques façades and liberated self
where academic artistry split hairs and personality for the premise of debate
I am a rebel and claim no higher lower ground of superior distension
He or she who animates friendly animosity is right and incorrect whatever
common ground belies the provocation I propose but possibly my
presentation of what others mean in kindness is too neutral neuters psyche
While anima and animus illustrate conclude a symbiotic destination
the starting point of this and that left right up above and side by side
is far too circular an argument when we should start not end in union
Male and female are constructions of disparity of power and repression
Archetypes are not therefore I am
11th June 2016
Animus-Anima Part II—Animus – Poetry Contest
Sponsor Tom Quigley
With a 7-Eleven Big Cup eulogy slurp
And a McDonalds Big Mac pall bearer burp,
it’s Big Boy Slim Jim holiday mourning time
Take a family reunion picnic funeral ride
to a cemetery last supper barbeque burial ...
shovel down the gullet styrofoam servings
of coffin words charcoal dirtside purged
Famous food jingles playing over the radio
was the final ear candy corpse dish heard
Box of chocolates and cake frosting flowers
bring back such fond broken diet memories
And guilty pleasures
of Weight Watchers infidelities
Illicit affairs of late-night microwave heated morsels
brought forth categorically caloric denials ...
refrigerated temptations
tiptoe sneaking down the pie-hole
Oh, the double-layered life you led,
the gravedigger cravings you had
You always pillow stashed
an eclair energy bar
under the silk sheets kissy lipstick red,
to stimulate your gastro-erotic appetite after midnight
Carnal tastings of naked delight ... good belly vibrations —
sugar rush,
melted butter
Buckets of caramel popcorn love ...
Lip-smacking custard creampies,
your tongue couldn’t get enough
Popsicle toes,
finger licking
Mouth watering pickles,
spicy honey breasts of chicken
Succulent crab legs,
steamed oyster juices exotic
Lobster chowder brie ... pure aroma ecstasy
You took a Cajun deep creole swallow,
spooning the bottom of the gumbo pot
Relaxing those alligator jaws for the belching last time,
loosening your belt past the final notch
Satisfied donut eyes orange glaze hollow,
cinnamon bun thoughts be on your English muffin mind:
Restaurant quality neo-mortician style buffet,
wine cellar casket smorgasbord
Undertaker carry-out at the Last Breath café,
with a menu selection to die for
Oh, the extra toppings life you led,
such gravedigger cravings you had
Time to put your Pizza Hut pepperoni desires to bed,
and brain-freeze
that last heaping spoonful of Big Frosty in your head
Then close them Cheesecake Factory eyes,
when those antacid,
digestive ...
gluttonous lights go dead
No words describe,
sufferings worse than hell,
Goes beyond pure evil,
even a story cannot tell,
We’ve all seen pictures,
making grotesque sense,
But only the stench,
reflects this actual offense.
Cruelty surpasses cruelty,
overtaken by hate,
Unique to humanity,
not a wild animals trait,
Only intelligent creatures,
contrive such events,
Still, the stench belies,
this ideological offense.
Infectious propaganda,
turns a (master race) blind,
The urge for slaughter,
becomes industrially refined,
Ever lower they sink,
pleasure’s more intense,
Til’ the stench alone screams,
a sadistic offense.
NAZI’S (the final solution).
for scapegoats of the war,
All innocent victims,
Fanatical Holocaust,
Left to rot and stink,
bodies piled so immense,
Until the stench itself,
reeks a nations offense.
Countless Men, Women,
and Children, loaded like beasts,
Crammed into cattle cars,
one way ticket east,
Some succumbed and died,
via, a ghost train’s torment,
At least spared the stench,
and last phase of offense,
Seventy five years on,
since world became aware,
Even now some deny,
moreover, could not care,
Gas chamber’s, crematoria,
behind an electric fence,
Stench will never allow,
amnesia of this offense.
Cryptic sign, above the gates,
reads! (Arbeit Macht Frei) work sets you free!
First take a shower,
later some cake and tea,
No water in the pipes,
but, pellets of Zyclone B,
Soon sickly ash rises,
set free, up a working chimney,
SS guards standing outside,
mocking, enjoying a smoke,
“Smell even worse, when they burn,”
(laughing at their own joke).
“Look at the next group praying”
(again laugh, into their face)
“We’re the chosen ones,
The gods who run this place.”
There’s Categorically no defense,
Slaughtering millions without relent,
The stench tries, The stench proves,
The stench condemns, this offense.
By
David Kavanagh.
“Only by evidence of truth,
Can we accuse and adduce.”
Loving those who hate you deeply , it is part of wisdom
of God"
Quote by poet.
Why many black people of the World
Love President Putin?
Does President Putin one of the blacks of Russia?
Why do they love him so much?
It is hard to understand their reasons
But the western new oparing systems
Continue enslaving them systematically
Then they thought that Russia
will continue to be their allie
for their total freedom.
The law lords of the World did not recognise
Slavaly ,Apartheid , Colony,
Neo - colonialism as the crimes
Against humanity,
that is why
Majority black people lost trust in some people
who came to them as friends
And turned to ill - treat them massively.
Sometimes my friend Poets,
Ministers of Gospel, Juges, Lawyers
Activists, Masters , doctors , prophets
will continue to ask"
why his contents
always concerned the rights
of some people?"
How happy we always
feel when animals
Are well treated?
What about ill-treating
particular people from many
years till today?
I think the recognition of colony ,
slavary , neo-colonialism and apartheid as crimes
Against humanity
Can bring
Some change in the world oparating
Unjust systems.
There won't be modern colonisation
Which continue to exclude Africans'rights.
I know the truth is always hated
And it so hard
Hardly to welcome it.
My best prayer to God is "
Oh ! Lord of the heavens
Change the hearts of some people
To respect the rights of others
As their rights are categorically
respected by them.
I cry
to You as your faithful servant.
Hear me dear heavenly
Father
As you heard the prayers
of our forefathers
Patriach Abraham,
Isaac and Jacob...Amen!"
Remember that I am not a politician
And this is not a political content either
It is reality of the World
... treating well some people
And ill - treating others
Which could be condamnable
by the national and International laws.
June 6th 2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
War is never nice and friendly
Make no error about it
Invasion is war, death of a country
Nostra culpa est
There is no amicable invasion
Obviously, this is an egregious violation
Of a country’s sovereignty,
Respect, honor and dignity
Sure, it is our gosh-darn fault
War is hell before and after death
Where no good thing is left
Except the tears, the suffering, the theft
The cries, the breaking of the vault
The rape, the killing, the assassination
The kidnapping, the burning of the constitution
The infringement of God’s given rights, the anti-democracy
The odious crimes against humanity
The worst misery and the nastily abject poverty
Where the country and everybody, everybody
Is indeed worse off. Liberty is cuffed, shackled and muzzled
Love shamelessly and categorically disappeared
Pride was and is dead, freedom has frankly fizzled
Hate verbosely and painfully appeared
As the eyes can see, war is hell. No laughing matter. No fun
No justice, no escape, no democracy. And no place to run
Countless bandits, criminals, and innocents are dead
In such mortiferous galimatias, everybody is wrong
God is helplessly watching and recording. What a sad song!
No future and no hope for today’s generation
We all shamelessly watch, listen and hear
The daily and nightly news here
This is a cuckoo fiasco, an abominable invasion
Where nothing gets better, but worse and worse
We watch, see and witness the violence. We have less, less
And less of everything under the weeping and mournful sun
War is never hilarious, comic, funny and friendly
Hell is not a promenade under the crimson moon
The world is a makeshift barbarous cemetery
And this is not a mendacious mystery
Nostra culpa est
Make no mistake about it
We all will have to pay and ultimately will pay
This is the time to think, to meditate and to pray.
Copyright © October, 2023, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
When is ‘Almost Good Enough’
never good enough?
When is ‘Clearly Not Enough’
an ounce more than enough?
When is ‘Almost What You Need’
the most you’ll ever have?
When is ‘It’s Not Only That’
the only thing that’s left?
When is ‘In Almost Every Case’
not in any case at all?
When is ‘In Lieu Of Everything Else’
the thing sure to be missed?
When is ‘In Actuality’
in real terms actually not?
When is ‘To Be Perfectly Honest With You’
the biggest lie you’ll hear?
When is the serious ‘Last Ditch Effort’
the one you continue to try?
When is the ‘Absolute Final Time’
the one you repeat again?
When is ‘Really’ not real at all
and spoken then in vain?
When is ‘Probably’ not probable
or even close to that?
When is the phrase ‘The Bottom Line’
the top of your agenda?
When is the trusted ‘Old College Try’
strictly out of school?
When is ‘Painstakingly Difficult’
the easiest thing you do?
When is ‘No Sweat—The Deal Is Done’
so much harder than before?
When is ‘Let’s Start At The Beginning’
the end of the debate?
When is ‘The Last Word On The Matter’
the beginning of what comes next?
When is ‘So What’ a euphemism
for the most important things you do?
When is ‘It Is What It Is’
categorically not, and never will be?
When is ‘The Bull In The China Shop’
ceramic and for sale?
When is the celebratory ‘Victory Lap’
the one taken in disgust?
When is the magical ‘Three Point Shot’
four points more than its worth?
When is the special ‘Love You Lost’
the only one you’ve never found?
When is the figurative ‘Bird In Hand’
the one that flies away?
When is ‘Bantering Back And Forth’
the silence you extol?
When will your words line with copper wire
to conduct the truth unrobbed
When will you cease to pander and mislead
—naked before the mob
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
Why is ‘Almost Good Enough’
never what you need?
Why is ‘Clearly Not Enough’
an ounce more than you deserve?
Why is ‘Almost What You Need’
the most you’ll ever have?
Why is ‘It’s Not Only That’
the only thing that’s left?
Why is ‘In Almost Every Case’
not in any case at all?
Why is ‘In Lieu Of Everything Else’
the thing sure to be missed?
Why is ‘In Actuality’
in real terms actually not?
Why is ‘To Be Perfectly Honest With You’
the biggest lie you tell?
Why is the serious ‘Last Ditch Effort’
the one you continue to try?
Why is the ‘Absolute Final Time’
the one you repeat again?
Why is ‘Really’ not real at all
and spoken then in vain?
Why is ‘Probably’ not possible
or even close to that?
Why is the phrase ‘The Bottom Line’
the top of your agenda?
Why is the trusted ‘Old College Try’
strictly out of school?
Why is ‘Painstakingly Difficult’
the easiest thing you do?
Why is ‘No Sweat—The Deal Is Done’
so much harder than before?
Why is ‘Let’s Start At The Beginning’
the end of the debate?
Why is ‘The Last Word On The Matter’
the beginning of what comes next?
Why is ‘So What’ a euphemism
for the most important thing you do?
Why is ‘It Is What It Is’
categorically not, and never meant to be?
Why is ‘The Bull In The China Shop’
ceramic and for sale?
Why is the celebratory ‘Victory Lap’
the one taken in disgust?
Why is the magical ‘Three Point Shot’
four points more than its worth?
Why is the special ‘Love You Lost’
the only one you’ve never found?
Why is the figurative ‘Bird In Hand’
the one that flies away?
Why is ‘Bantering Back And Forth’
the silence you extol?
When will your words wrap like copper wire
to conduct the truth unrobbed
When will you cease to pander and mislead
—naked before the mob
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
Believe it or not, their ubiquitous webs
Are everywhere; they are the dictators
Who kidnap, maim, torture and kill teachers,
Poets, ordinary folks and babies in their cribs.
They rob and ransack innocent citizens,
Steal elections and after a lifetime in power,
Categorically refuse to leave the tower.
Very often, they do everything to muzzle the chickens.
Monsters are constantly in disguise,
They are well dressed, they wear uniforms,
They know how to blend and to socialize.
Monsters, at every turn, want to control the dorms,
Manipulate the data, fool the media,
Hire henchmen and spread false propaganda.
Monsters behave like manipulative magicians,
They suck the air out of the innocent bystanders,
Befriend desperate and impoverished musicians,
Surreptitiously inveigle the nosy neighbors
To exteriorize their feelings, and they spy and lie,
At every opportunity; and at every occasion,
They bury their preys alive in the dungeon.
Believe it or not, monsters are like rats,
Their appetite is insatiable; they crawl under the mats,
Bite babies, steal millions, and hide the money in overseas coffers;
They rape young boys and girls, and destroy the future of many.
The revolution was not done right ‘cause the kidnappers,
The pick pockets and their accomplices are still under the tree.
Those raccoons, those bedbugs don't go away easily.
They outlive the exterminators. These goons are really bright.
Be cautious, because they are out there day and night,
Operating at every meeting and at every party.
Believe it or not, all bad things must come to an end:
The lies, the crimes, and the arbitrary executions of the church band.
Copyright© February 2012, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books: