Long Chastised Poems
Long Chastised Poems. Below are the most popular long Chastised by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chastised poems by poem length and keyword.
You lied to me...
You lied to me when you said the church building was the safest place to run to-
When you made me believe those grey headed men dwelt in the castle of wisdom too-
That following every letter of the doctrine to the latter was the best way to live as a believer with little or no clue-
You lied to me...
You lied to my face with sweet utterances that lured me to confide in you-
Sweet lies with the beauty of butterflies you send from the pulpit right before my very eyes-
That hurting me with honest lies became the source of peace written in your skies-
You lied to me...
When you left me exposed to the harm of the world and spirits unknown by sending me out in discipline because I fell-
Protected your own, but left me, a fallen soldier to be chastised and face emotional torture, neglect and a living hell-
So you painted me black, as the sinner you see me, which means I count no more, so my pains and experiences I can't tell-
You lied to me...
That lies became the only truth I could believe in-
That no longer are words from your pulpit worth believing-
For every single statement you utter was more like the bullets aimed at deceiving-
You lied to me...
So don't make me lie to myself that you're the purest, cos I can no longer pretend-
For these words are not to slander or judge. No! This, I don't intend-
But I am a proof of my words so dare not ask me to defend-
You lied to me...
And you still lie when you call me dear, cos I know you don't even care-
You lost your saltines in my life, so your sermon has no slot in my ear-
For your letters, I'll tear, your voice I won't hear, cos the thought of believing you gives me fear-
You lied to me...
Under the covering of a minister, you hurt me over and over again-
Judging me by your standards caring less about my pain-
And getting humans to follow your doctrines not the creator, gets me sick and insane-
You lied to me...
So I pray I'll be the last soldier to ever fall-
The last you'll lie to and lash your rod of discipline into when you stand in front to call-
And a lesson on living by the standards of GOD OF MEN, not the MEN OF GOD to be learnt from by all-
For never again will I absorb your lies like foam and water cos man........, I'm older, am stronger and standing taller.
K.G Inji
(Orator of Wordz)
Facts beyond Illusion
The absence of who you are falls short of whom you could truly become.
The decline that leaves you slain without hope. Sliding down a slippery slope after slippery slope. Looking back at the years with no end in sight.
Where have all those years gone? The righteous ones, the heroines and heroes of truth. Now there seems to be this new norm running loose. Wrong is the new right and vice versa are those thoughts that wage war on our minds. Those thoughts that seem so hard to find. Our eyes do not deceive or betray us, but there is still no justice. The makeup that made you has started to crumble and fade, now you wonder if you have been laid to rest without a shred of dignity.
Falling to your feet, subdued by the sheer weight that bestows the question of, what it all means. There is no judge nor jury to preside over things that are true. It appears that the laws that are written have a certain vibe of bias when looking through the hourglass, but blinded by the sand in front. By the time the sands clears, one would think, now you can see the truth, but it disappears in plain sight. Ups and downs are these scales foreshadowing the twist and turns of this rollercoaster ride, where we all died inside. Puzzles are broken into multiple pieces, releasing the pain that is increasingly felt inward. Causing a downward spiral of drunkenness. Spinning in a circular motion of consternation. Chastised by man based on the premise of misinformation hesitation has caused an even bigger loss of life. Cutting like a knife, losing themselves in confusion, with no repercussion for the fallen. Just a percussion of lies from your mouth to our ears, tears with no guilt. Just laughter when it comes crumbling down. Frowns of disbelief sicken you from inside as the plot thickens, labeled you the black sheep. Displaying enough bravery to stand alone and atone for the ones that shall remain nameless. The cost was
too high as so many loves ones have died. Infinite lies that should lie in the belly of the beast. Just to hold on to that one moment of release to fight for freedom and peace.
Darius Howard
April 19th 2020
From The Heart To The Cross
The burden to carry on a journey slated,
Weighs heavily on an outcome known fated.
When faith is the belief in hope for deliverance
Where humanity’s destiny hangs in the balance.
In mirrors dwell prisoners angst desperate rot,
To lay their heads in the bosom of Madonna.
One way leads to the Saviour, the other does not.
Be it by choice, from the heart to the cross.
Comfort and joy. God will provide sanctuary:
The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Though Mary mourns, her anguish is temporary.
Unbelievers throw stones, yet His Word lives on.
His last hour on Golgotha shook civilization.
Angels triumphantly trumpeted The Lord’s salvation.
A madman with hammer thrashes the Pietà 1
To eradicate the sculpture from history,
That Michelangelo chiseled out of Carrara marble, 2
Seating the Madonna larger and profanely stronger,
Cradling Jesus, whose appearance projects frailty.
As if having been chastised for allowing crucifixion.
A mollification for theological credence,
Unreinforced nor inspired by biblical writings.
By appeasement, the sculptor admits conspiracy
With dogma, misrepresenting Christ to the living.
Mary’s demure as she looks upon the contorted figure,
Supports the illusion of her lordly stature.
***
Notes:
1) Pietà: The ‘Pietà’ is a sculpture by Michelangelo (1475-1564) depicting the Madonna cradling Jesus after His crucifixion. The sculpture was completed in 1500 and is housed in St. Peter’s Basilica, Vatican City, Italy.
On May 21, 1972, an Australian citizen vandalized the Pietà with a geologist’s hammer. The individual was not charged with any criminal offence but was hospitalized in Italy for two years; and then released and deported back to Australia.
2) Carrara marble: Carrara marble is stone quarried in Carrara, Tuscany, Italy. The three most common types of Italian marble are Carrara, Calcutta, and Statuary (aka Statuario). Michelangelo is reported to have said that this was the most ‘perfect’ block of stone he ever used.
I’ve not written to you for many years
Santa, I’m quite different from my peers
Not fancy or frilly like girly girls
And I don’t hanker for diamonds and pearls
Today I got the most terrible news
My muse abandoned me. She's on a cruise!!!
She’ll be sailing around the world for years
I'm bereft and can’t stem my salty tears
Oh Santa dear, please take pity on me
I need a skilled muse to write poetry
I’m heartbroken without her by my side
Could you bring one to me on this Yuletide
It would be the most perfect Christmas gift
Please tell me that this year I won't get stiffed!
~ ~ ~ ~
You may not have my name at this address
But Santa, it’s time for me to confess
I've been on your naughty list all this year
I'm the one who put Ex Lax in your beer
And I thought while you were stuck in my loo
I'd try to tempt you in my basque of blue
But you clutched your tummy. You looked quite sick
With loo roll in hand, you ran out so quick
You chastised me as you dribbled brown gloop
Said you’d seen my name at Poetry Soup!
You'd read my poems and you wouldn't be hard
With my dire style, I’m no threat to the Bard
Last Christmas was such a catastrophe
I apologise, will you forgive me?
~ ~ ~ ~
I’ve divulged to all how I’ve misbehaved
and beg the laxative mishap be waived
(You’ve not visited since I was a child
when my behaviour ran totally wild!)
I’ve taken my punishment on the chin
Bitter medicine swallowed for my sin
If you can find forgiveness in your heart
I will try my best to make a fresh start
Santa, please deliver just one present...
A new muse would make my life more pleasant
My old one left and she might not return
My pen is poised; for witty words I yearn
A contest win with Phillip Garcia
Would rekindle my poetic career!
From My Lips To Santa's Ears Contest
Sponsored by Phillip Garcia
10 syllables per line checked with How many Syllables
12-05-17
Always turned out to be tensed,
If she hear her sons are in merse,
Wish to provide all she have to,
Inflicted with hardship,to whom does she look up to?
Sacrifice drops anytime from her sweats,
To put smiles and comfort into the children's hearts,
She doesn't get missing from that priority,
Her hope is in GOD's conformity,
"For that's where help comes from",she whispers to herself,
Tradition took all the results of the husbands effort,
Leaving nothing as source of daily bread,
Beautiful and ebonic as she was,
Feels dismayed and left alone,
The complexion and weight is gone,
"I don't care to disgrace myself in this phase,
Getting my future champions on a rightful staircase,
With extremism,stress holds me tightly,
Why am I feeling so wimpy?
Won't let my eyes deceive me,
Won't allow the ears change my plans,
Though,I don't seem to be presentable in blanks,
Will surely have a better new me tomorrow",she heeded to that remarks,
"Surely,good time awaits us,
Prayers and hardworking will surely acknowledge your strong hand after today,
The travelling has brought souls into fain,
We've being chastised,your prayers have rescued us ideally",the first son appreciated her,
On rail,poverty thought to be a pathway to meet friends,
It rather set the description membrane of class they belonged to;
Place them on,"No friends bench",
"What else do we need hence?"
Didn't know it will be at this time,
Those days when nothing made me fine,
I stepped on a broken right,
Confidence wasn't part in the early preparations,
Friendship originates when one swims in richies,
This is my daughter;she goes by your name,
A dedication to your sacrificial shame,
And this is the mum,wedded wife of mine;
You weren't able to attend our wedding ceremony in the Englishman's land,
That was the younger son,
After hours,the alarm sounded when morning approached from the sparkling sun,
Everyone rose for new story from the greatest one.
Lines in the smile
By-Dominique smith
365 days make a year, those days swear are sincere, you choke on your drink at joke you just made caught you off guard. It would really make you think, would those 365 days be hard to break? While youre on the brink of tears the world still rotates. Holding your stomcah as throw your head back to catch your breath. Some tell you that each day is new start, but thats a saying thats just a few seconds of relief as they turn their heads back to their problems. You chuckle with a grin and even then you know that the relief is of no belief.
Cold hands offer a wide range of solutions but non of any resolutions, Surprises come due to your ability to swayed time, youre happy and healthy thats the way to be in your mind. You're doing great breathing in oxygen and exhaling your problems, Crack your knuckles and have a Cuban shuffle. The light of the sun touches your face, the honor of the wind is painting your skin, Nails on, hair done and worries gone. Be still youre bearing over the chastised heap of those who stood before you, Youre at your own peak of your mountain dont lose your altitude. You've done step one and youve got your prize, take a picture and look sterilized.
Your aura is cleaned and solid, anyone looks at you theyd be able see how stacked you are with not just your wallet. The life youre giving you did not ask for but you will make it your own and known as one of those who can bring light forth. Two tones take your soul the one side is bold and the other is your backbone. A cold steel rod is placed in your back, you stand up straight no one can break your stance it is yours to enhance. Youve gone to places that are worth wild, you've seen things that made you feel like you've walked 100 miles and the stories you tell to those who'll listen will believe your tales without trials because the proof is in the lines of your smile.
Men cannot be trusted
emotionless and hardened,
They tend to be aggressive
Then thoughtlessly are pardoned.
Promiscuously driven
With ego swelling large,
They're loud, endowed and over proud
And in your life they'll barge!
They see vastly different
They see a girl- a prize,
Their honesty is always great
Until they just tell lies.
They'll blame you for everything
They'll treat you as a game,
They're really not so interesting
Predictable and lame.
Hence before you run away
To whatever you have lusted,
Take heed of what I say...
For men should not be trusted.
Now, I could back this poem up
With proof of evidence,
As damages that most men do
Is astronomically immense.
Though I’m sure when they do read this
They’ll hate and much resent
The honesty and forthrightness
From a poetess unbent.
Yes we need to put them in their place
Before problems rise again
Wars and violence amongst our silence
All due to stupid men.
Though I wonder Joe and all that know
Andy and Big Randy
So I’ll admit just a bit
Men can be soooo handy !
And I’m fortunate to know
Good mans’ integrity
The ones who care a very rare
And voice this literally.
Though I’ve generalised and chastised
The ones not up to speed
I’ll be fair and I’ll share
Men…I know we need.
They’re great when they are good
Respectable and kind
They can be the bestest friends
And ease our worried mind.
Baby boys so wonderful
And innocence impart
Uplifting me, will always be
Forever in my heart.
The he whose not corrupted
It’s him I do commend
And loyal I will always be
To a good true friend.
How brothers I have missed you
Through the push and shove
And I am grateful never hateful
For platonic love…
Here here I’m not so sexist
Indifferent, a goner,
As I think of he who strengthens me
'tis he, I love and honour.
A living organism accustomed to existing alive…adapted, acclimatized.
Breathing bodies, beautifully behaving as created, before being theorized.
Corporeal creatures controlled by character traits, occasionally compromised.
Divergent life forms delicately merged into a “Web of Life”, perfectly devised.
Entities experiencing individuality, establishing existence uncompromised,
Frolicking through life; incessantly looking for forever, mesmerized.
Gaining moral fiber through God given guidance sometimes, getting baptized.
Happily honing one’s persona hoping to help dreams become materialized,
Insightfulness encircles one’s sense of self to initiate a life-path individualized.
Jovial jesters, bigwigs, or judges with judgments apprized.
Kooky cool-cats, celebrities, or clowns cleverly disguised.
Laundry maids, lucky leaders, or racers with wins realized.
Milkmen, fishermen, or firemen with departments downsized.
Noble work is any work of which a lifetime is comprised.
Orchids, oxalis, oak trees, and sellers of fruits franchised.
Penguins, porcupines, parrots, and peacocks with feathers prized.
Questions surround the beings of which this world is comprised.
Reverence remembers Noah's ark and the lives that were remised.
Scientists study animals, cells, and quarks minuscule-sized.
Tomorrows are predicted with their remedies advised.
Ultimately, all beings will be recycled in to earth…revised.
Victorious are earth's environments enriched by life's demise.
Worldly ways and wisdom's walk in the end shall be surprised.
Xanadu sought requires the power to choose right and be not chastised.
Yesterday is gone, but life-luminaries were long ago stylized.
Zestfully living righteously marks the path perfection realized.
© November 8, 2011
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Being
Sponsored by: Paula Swanson
Curled up in a ball in the corner, down on
bended knee, waiting for a sign that someone
could hear me. No sounds were made,
no words were said.
I was just an alone child with a
cross to bear instead.
Heart broken, fragile picture perfect images,
of a tragic past and misguided souls.
Because of your influence,
I am the way that I am today,
too angry to love completely,
and too scared to say...
...what I really feel.
Oh, when will I heal?
Too guilty to think about me,
and too sad to really see,
all the good I'd been through-
Where were you?
I understand that you are here today,
and I find that ok,
but for arguments sake, did you ever
think what you had at stake?
A loving wife, and beautiful kids,
did you know when you came home,
in the corner I hid?
I would create drama's
to distract mom even more,
I made things even worse,
and then I was the bad girl.
With perfect long brown curls,
big deep doe eyes,
apprehensive to be myself,
wearing a disguise.
Believing empty promises...
-only lies.
A child should feel innocent and wear
sunny smiles on their lips,
not being chastised.
I was hurting while crying,
running while hiding,
having to take sides.
I grew up needing so much from
others for my own happiness.
But nothing is ever good enough...
-for me.
Because I don't deserve happiness,
not like they do.
I get sad from time to time,
and think I'll go out of my mind,
but the tears just don't solve,
all the years with no love,
-from him.
Curled up in a ball in the corner,
down on bended knee...
waiting for a sign that someone
could hear me.
alone-
waiting there...
with only a childhood cross to bear.
In The Corner Contest
Date Written: April 5, 2016
God is God and I am man
God made man from dirt and sand
God made woman from mans side
God gave woman for mans bride
God gave them both a garden fair
God gave it all but one tree that was there
God said don't eat or you will die
Satan came in and told woman a lie
Woman chose to eat and then did man
God locked the two out of that land
Man tilled the earth and his garden he grew
Woman was fruitful she bore two
Cain was a farmer and his seconds he brought
Able tended sheep and gave his best as one ought
Cain for selfishness God chastised
Able for faithfulness was rightouse in Gods eyes
Cain let his jealousy stew and brew
Abel his brother he viciously slew
God saw mans sin grow by leaps and bounds
God sent a flood to wash them from the ground
God saved Noah and his family
God saved some animals all that you see
Noah built the ark and in they went
Gods wrath poured out His anger he vent
God put a rainbow in the sky
God repented then promised to you and I
Never will I flood the whole world again
And on Gods oath you can depend
Man again forgot who he was
Man sinned as he pleased just because
God He knew just what to do
God sent His son for me and you
Woman chose to obey the Lord
God gave her His son and He she bore
Christ was born the sinless man
Christ stood where no mere man can
Christ took our sin He took it all
Christ let man take and beat Him raw
Christ let man torture and nail Him to a cross
Christ shed all of His blood so no one would be lost
Christ gave His life and was laid in a borowed tomb
Satan thought is was over man had met his doom
Christ in three days from that tomb He came
Man now had life from the lamb that was slain
Christ lives forever triumphant and true
Gods most preciouse gift for me and you