Long Cesspit Poems
Long Cesspit Poems. Below are the most popular long Cesspit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cesspit poems by poem length and keyword.
Every morning, he wakes up alone.
Having dreamt of a feeling, one he’s never really known
expecting a message, but there’s nothing on the phone
this garden was once exciting, now it’s all overgrown.
He sees them in the town, not an inch of a frown
fuelled by the beauty of a blessed promise
to always be there, when the world is not fair,
to hold each other’s hands regardless of fate’s plans.
His friends discuss their busy months ahead, while he lays there in his cesspit of dread
left with the wanderers, the ones who said
that they had boyfriends as they sat on his bed.
He sits with his thoughts, night into dawn
dreams of the arms and how he’d bathe in the charm
of just one that could hold, a heart once so cold.
Because no matter what he’s been told, to find refuge in self, to brave through the cold,
the self is a lot to hold.
So, we stand upon the brink
Of our Society as we watch it sink
Under the weight of the political mire and it’s representatives so dire
Our England is at stake
Our England is what they’ve made
A junk yard of promised truths
A cesspit of lies and untruths
Do we watch it sink into the the world
Watch it fail with no strength at all.
Or do we stand and raise our hands
Do we say these are ours,
these lands.
Do we have a slither of the muscled strength that our ancestors showed with no pretence.
They fought and died for you and me
They fought and died for this country
What are we?
What are we?
It's so cold in this cauldron of sadness.
I'm drowning in a cesspit of darkness.
When will it rain to wash these sorrows free?
Before wicked waves drown me in the sea.
Emotions naked like an Autumn tree,
yearn to taste warm nectar from the queen bee.
Stubbornly silent, buried in past pride,
content to remain, till the soul has died.
Hollow heart hungers for a soothing voice,
so this solemn soul can dance in rejoice.
Bitter silence leads to further despair,
no words are left for this bond to repair.
Tears flow like floods, creating an ocean,
immersed, life flashes by in slow motion.
Silent One
Simple sonnet musings
15 December 2017
Fingertips click a
desperate breakbeat
as eyes glaze over
in blue light baptism
please overwhelm me
Binary jungle,
you glowing cesspit
through the clipping
curtain echoes a choir
of post-post ironic
agoraphobics.
Dopamine is a myth,
an expired meme
deemed mega cringe
Let the file rot into
informational abscess
Here we all wait before
Heaven's blockchained gate
tired of partaking into
a satire so removed from
a cogent solution,
It is simply void.
Here is coldest oblivion in
this stupid cyborg machine,
but the world is so
Y2K heat death-core
Whatever that means
It turned a generation
made us abandonware
Just to feed us nostalgia
for times when we
would bother to care.
The horrors of this evil place,
Are far too bad to tell.
A land where manic thoughts prevail,
Where being is pure hell.
I have to make the journey,
Though it terrifies my mind.
To help poor souls who have got lost,
Their one true way to find.
When drowning in a cesspit,
They need strength to pull them out.
Their soul’s are lost ‘before they leave’,
Minds filled with fear and doubt
.
But only those who want to,
Can I help ‘their way’ to find.
The victim of another’s deed,
That made them lose their mind.
To rescue folk who have got lost,
Is not an easy task.
My struggle is within their soul,
Believing’s all I ask.
But if they finally follow,
To their friends, who walk with me.
The joy, I know, that they’ll behold,
Will set their spirit free.
No, …I do not like the journey,
It leaves scars upon my soul.
But my destiny’s their bidding,
And I help to make them whole.
I am strong and I am able,
Alas, all are not so sure.
And to help another person,
Is what all our lives are for.
Please be careful where you wander,
There’s a place you should not go.
And I’d hate to have to get you,
From the realms of Hell below.
Ivor G Davies
The world in sudden chaos,
we hear the silent whispers but dare not say a word
Shrouded in uncertainty is our vision now so
blurred?
We go about our business as if it all is fine
But the world is full of messages, so hard for us to define
The way we live has changed all helped along by us
And now it’s becoming difficult we all kick up A fuss.
Hunger, poverty, displacements, genocide,
Atrocities, war, suppression, oppression
To name but a few,
It’s happening all over,
But that’s a fact we knew.
What’s happening in all The world
is now sign of times
The devil will be paying for all his violent crimes.
It’s always been a cesspit, this planet ruled by hate,
By greedy power hungry sods who knows when they be sate!
The hatred is exploding like rockets in the skies
The news and reporters blaming, trying to demonise.
You cannot combat evil
When you are fuelled with hate
The truth is what is written
That is the human fate.
if we all come together and offer peace instead,
We shall turn upon the Devil and turn him
On his head!!!!
In the silence of sadness,
what will the winds bring tomorrow?
In the sadness of silence,
my soul sighs soft breaths of sorrow.
Where did those rainbows go,
reminiscing happier times?
Thunder brings further misery -
am I victim of my own crimes?
I must have betrayed the sun,
for it offers no sanctuary.
Moon refuses to shine in the darkness,
since when were you my adversary?
When there was love,
it never rained so violently.
Winds would come and go,
fading away so silently.
Mind drowns in a somber cesspit,
struggling to cope with your demons of pride.
I don't know what I've become,
since you left, I've died a little inside.
Simple Musing
Silent One
7 February 2019
Example for I died a little inside contest.
Alone In The Dressing Room: Just Before Curtain Up
Oh Yes! My career!.. It's behind me.
And the bright lights I’d worked so hard for
Now they’ve airbrushed my face
That looks so out of place
On that poster they’ve stuck to my door.
My name is no longer top billing
It’s been pushed further down out of view
By some rich kid who blogs
From his channel of vlogs
And gets paid just to like all this too.
The curtain goes up in five minutes
But I think it should really stay down
They haven’t a clue
What real actors do
On the stage in this backwater town.
I’m the oldest guy here in this cesspit
And this dressing room’s cramped and too cold
The 'luvvies' will shout
That I’ve sadly sold out
Unlike seats for this show so I’m told.
I’m supposed to walk out there all happy
To some kids who just couldn’t care less
And keep 'doing my thing'
And get them to sing
- I’m washed out, fed up and a mess.
A Knock On The Dressing Room Door: Not Long After Curtain Down
I just wanted to say a big 'Thank You!'
The three of us had a great time
I’m not sure where to start
So I’ll speak from my heart
We loved you and your great pantomime.
My husband and I brought our ill son
And now value what laughter is worth
We saw sickness displaced
By wide smiles on his face
Despite his short time left on earth.
You brought us much joy, light and comfort
From the stage to the seats where we sat
No medicine or pills
Can cure our son's ills
But for two hours - tonight - you did that!
Your comment
Sent me
On a strange path
Of great thought
And reflection
And times past
With great mental strain
Synapsis drained
I feel
Low
And tired
If a little
Depressed
That
I have come
To a point
A conclusion
If you will
Be enlightened
That Life
Is Life
That Man
Is Man
Never to wake
To see the Dawn
In May
Always
Cursed too
Sleeping
Sleeping
And so adverse to
Dreaming
Dreaming
But not of
A universal consciousness
With so many Cultures
With Vultures abound
That common ground
Is but a swamp
Clad in dead trees
Mist and murk
Lies and fake news
Surrounded
By wall streets
Profit
At Humanities loss
Child and forced labour
A cesspit of sex crimes
Man’s current state
Of enlightened times
So can you imagine
Or dream if you dare
Where man
Puts others
First
Before himself
And lifts those below
Up past his equal
I can’t
Man, never will
He seems
Condemned
Content
To Dreaming
Dreaming
Of what
Might have been
A conscious time
Out of his reach
My point of view on 'pred o viles' and their
Socital enboldenment..Could take a while?
As lifes daily press won't allow space, to
Go down those hard miles.' I'll point now to
The only bedrock firm in place.' The Gospel whole it
Never do spurn, its built up heros and heroines, pulling from hells shadows the vile and obscene, placing saul who did
Murder familiys whole, into grace
unearned cutting away all his vanitys.' Placing him up to his chest in full 'cesspit holes he stuck the course' preaching of Jesus..And true remorse.' he
Stood the trials that God watched and allowed, as He approved His new worker as only He knows how.' In chains and whipped and saved he stood.' To become the apostle
Who God made sure; got real; and good.'