Long Conniving Poems
Long Conniving Poems. Below are the most popular long Conniving by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conniving poems by poem length and keyword.
Man
A word so small but huge with emotions, stress but you have to tag along
So creative yet so blind
So loving yet so abusive
So manipulative, lying and cheating in a sensible way yet so emotional
Man, a family, love, respect yet so arrogant
An ear, shoulder to lean on and encouraging
But a killer in a leopard skin
Man, very smooth talking creature
A smile that turn to sorrows and pain
Oh man the creator of a woman through bone yet so conniving like an on-going headache
A comfort, protector and a free ride yet park station in terms of feelings, care and emotions
Confusion, misinterpretation, Father, uncle, husband yet a rapist
Man, oh man
A fighter, a role model yet cruel
An adviser, a friend yet so jealous in a mannerly way
A hell sender like terminal disease
Man yes man, man oh man
Form:
Could you please just take a bit off the top?
I stare at this cardinal, hoping he’ll stop.
But surely there is a bird barber shop.
Yes, but they never give me a good chop.
Afraid I would be an enormous flop,
Oh, come on! He says with a little hop.
I will sweep your kitchen and even mop.
Decide to give me a teensy buzz crop.
Thank you so much says the cardinal with slop
I’ll sing your praises to firebird and cop.
Then with a giant cute wiggle and bebop,
He flew straight into the air with a pop.
So all of that talk about wanting to mop
Was a conniving way to get me to stop
Pick up the scissors and give him a crop.
He is a cad, a scoundrel, a fop!
Goody, goody gumdrops
You're a fiddle-fart away
To becoming the same piece of s--t you were yesterday
Way to go, Basel, you're still an exquisite dog
And you'll always be a cursed creature - like an ugly frog
You'll never get a kiss & turn into a prince
You'll never be anything better - then a bum upgrading his tents
You'll never accomplish anything - with your mindframed block
'Cause you never wanna learn anything new - all you do is talk
You're a s--tty example - of what the West Coast thinks Southern boys are
You're a sorry excuse of a "cowboy" - especially if a girl wished for you on a star
You're evil, you're narcissistic, and you truly suck
'Cause all you know is crime, gangs, guns, drugs, and to f--k
I truly hope you have a lonely, impossibly hard life
And I hope you're banned and forbidden - from EVER finding a wife
I hope you experience every evil you've ever done
I hope you're banned and forbidden to EVER have children - especially a son
I hope you realize you're egotistical and so damn selfish
You're meticulous, manipulative, and conniving - like anyone who's elvish
You're crazy and oh so delusional - who'd EVER make you a God?
I wish they'd capture you and send you back to Hell in your space pod
I can't wait 'til they throw your ass back in Hell - where you claim you were King
I hope all the pain you've caused - karma 10x back she'll bring
I'm happy that you suck at placing, using, and understanding human emotions
I hope you choke & die - in every single one of the Universe's radioactive oceans
Foxes being really cute
Invaded London not expecting anyone to shoot
Playing around
On the Emiratis ground
Not hearing a hunter’s horn sound
Until one gunner left off a shell
And a war story for the shooter to tell
Going into the break down one
These feisty creatures were just trying to have fun
“Things are not going down
We must stand our ground,”
Foxes said
Time to play with the military’s head
Manipulating the army was the deal
While taking possession of the field
For some reason they did not release the hounds
Not another target strike to be found
Keeping the artillery off the board
Was just reward
Until under ten minutes
Someone got into it
A goal for Vardy
It was the Foxes sipping champagne at the party
Ending in a peaceful draw
Score leveled was the call
Point giving to each
Sharing was the lesson preached
A top four showing
Is in the Foxes showing
Arsenal needs more
To achieve the elite floor
Granted this would mean possibly another combative chore
For the military might
In the league whose position is quite right
Not to worry
Give assignment to the conniving furry
Let the foxes flirt around
Tourney bound
Looking good
As they should
Hiding inside that tree bark wood
Your Eyes Are Like Magic Marbles
Your eyes are like magic marbles
made of blue sky madness,
they draw my sharpest senses inward
rendering me helpless to your red devouring lips,
which pucker with a blinding instinctive intensity,
as with silent snakes seeking a cooler ground,
hidden inside a hotbed of conniving bulrushes;
your perfumed presence bringing out deliriously
a powerful draw upon my protruding screaming loins,
as if you had stolen my lapping eyes and tongue unseen,
rendering them completely to the burgeoning sky beast,
that now swoops down with grasping talons of arousal;
as you sprawl before me with plumes of mad impulse;
we lie naked, moist and spent; two lovers embracing,
forgetting about time and trouble as living human beings.
Your eyes are like magic marbles.
Egyptian goddess
impetuous and pompous
Cleopatra’s conquests
at history’s bequests
wielded a propensity
for dramatic intensity
She snared the great Marc Antony
lured him into salacious surreality
of whirlwind amorous insanity
their thirst for world domination
stirred a most legendary seduction
concocted in the heat of passion
From a cesspool of politics leveraging
exponential cunning and beguiling
struggles in a dance of supremacy
conniving betrayals with godlike fury
their superpower alliance
met all-consuming defiance
Unequaled legendary games fanatical
proving most problematical
honor deceit and lies tragic
loyalties and turmoil climactic
In the end love a destructive factor
with more than one malefactor
hearts hopelessly infatuated
suddenly freed and elated
finally devoid of grief and strife
bound to reunite in afterlife
Read on air by invitation ~ March 20, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 2nd place 2021, 3rd place 2021, 3rd place 2020, Honorable Mention 2022, Front Page Pick 2021
When do you want to rebel?
At dawn when the thoughts are gathering
At broad daylight when the thoughts are hiding
At dusk when they are opening the buttons of their charade
Or at night when they have forgotten their purpose?
When do you want to rebel?
Lips bedeck in crimson, you wonder
Is it in search of blood or passion?
You wonder while they dance,
Allure you with smiles,
Lips, do you mean happiness?
Or have you slaved the smiles?
Oh you conniving puppetmaster!
When I rebel,
Will those strings be enough?
When do you want to rebel?
Hands touch you like you are satin
Wrapped around dirty, naked bodies
Without permission
When I strangle you
Will those hands be enough?
When do you rebel?
You love like a cloud in its deathbed
Caressing the wideness of an oblivious mountain
Soon vanquishing in his unyielding walls
When I turn into thunder and lightning,
Will that strength be enough?
Every breath is a chance to steer a storm
Every blink is a chance to create a memory
Rebellion is Agony's womb,
The place where
The sun and the moon,
Night and day,
You and I,
Our thoughts,
Were born.
Analogous, how said month name
September under went
ramifications throughout millennium
steeped in blood thirsty antiquity,
awash with torment,
where most twenty
first century mortals
oblivious to such lawlessness
wretched ultra-violent revilement
existentially going about their
daily and weekly business
attuned to requisite
employment as punishment
particularly if role of stoop laborer
earnings them niggardly pay
for meager nourishment,
there would be negligible
leisure time leant
to mull, ponder or scrutinize
such esoteric rubric
as preponderance of
ancient civilizations set precedence
contributing to present
without passing judgement
if in fact possessing
aggressive curiosity hellbent
interest and/or acutely fervent
trenchant awareness linkedin
with what human engineered,
sans preceding millennial development
events came about
to bring the here
and now space/
time continuum habiliment,
where a sniveling, groveling, and
conniving foo fighting beastie boy,
would be loathe to believe,
nor not in the least
interested - gives a rats a$$
what farcical betterment prevails during
this current year
two thousand eighteen, versus where
drama evidenced by
nothing "FAKE," nor unclear
substantial archeological recorded
treasure trove evinced severe
of prior momentous human quaere
orgiastic epics Bacchanalian
(distilled from ancient Egypt,
classical Greece, enlightened Rome
peoples played primitive organs
(viz, sax and violins) out across
the then world wide web
wrought permanent pressed
customs within part
ridge didst app pear,
in a tree, reverberated
millenniums later, and also asper
among named twelve months,
particularly when Ides of March near
plus seven days of week.
Testing his role as a friend,
he bluffs his way past mistakes.
Believing friendships end,
he oft gives less than he takes.
Much like a jester of old,
his wit is honed sharp and quick.
And he struts, cocky and bold,
with guile and a tongue too slick.
Chasing love and doing dope,
his future seems somewhat bleak.
For dreams addicted to hope
often devastate the weak.
Conniving for a fast buck,
he treats life like a con game.
And willing to press his luck,
given ash, he'll conjure flame.
His hands are covered in dirt,
yet music plays in his soul.
And broken by years of hurt,
it's clear; time levied its toll.
He is known for cavorting
with women, tall, dark, and lean.
But he's fond of distorting
truths; if you know what I mean.
Don't like the look of what's going on
seems to you something's wrong
the smell of corruption in the air
look around it's everywhere
can't place the feel of what's happening here
could it be something to fear
the sound of conniving on the wind
a warning call for all thin-skinned
so round and round and round we go
where it stops no one knows
it takes two to tango or so they say
but that was then not today
ask a question and they hand you
the same old automated two-step quango
one foot forward two steps back
while standing in quicksand
pose a query they'll sidestep the issue
and the matter at hand
giving you the light fandango
they'll look you in the eye and deny
it's all a web within a web
behind a web of total lies