Long Crudeness Poems
Long Crudeness Poems. Below are the most popular long Crudeness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crudeness poems by poem length and keyword.
Warm, sticky hands palm off dry, self-centred ground,
Touched by gingerly acclaiming seeds of new-borns:
Ready, willing and eager for the harsh, expecting role,
Supposedly not with any crudeness, brashness or horns;
As we sit in it, my tears embrace his spritely youth,
And I ask for forgiveness for my naive, vigorous misdeed:
He secures me with his smile and instinctive composure,
Such that I no longer trepidatiously have to sweat and bleed;
Permanency fairly permeates my fearful, angered heart:
The hope of someone else to tease the difficult, awkward task;
My failure becomes his promise, and his foundation strong,
So that the demand is no longer a mountainous, rocky ask.
When you yourself cannot conquer the rough terrain,
Your friends and lovers attend to take the strain.
2nd of October 2015
Oh, fathers of our forefathers
Would that we could draw from—
Your ever-flowing wellspring of wisdom.
In your footsteps peace would reign
With days serene and night long and calm.
Fathers of our forefathers
Your bravery and courage knows no equal
How did you blend muse and diplomacy?
At times, I wonder
What might have been had we been you.
Fathers of our forefathers
Even in our our modern prime, your legacy
Casts a shadow miles beyond our own—
How you made your way through shackles;
How you talked your way to independence
Fathers of our forefathers
A long talk with you sometimes I crave
Perhaps history did not reach us enough
For it is evident that in your crudeness
Rather than our modernity, you found eternal happiness.
Who'd have thought words make them react like this,
failing to see my wit, just the unattractiveness.
An eye for crudeness that'll overpower the humorous.
I'm sure within their brain a tumour lives.
Has your face ever felt the force of a fist?
It'll twist your perception like a contortionist,
because offence and pain aint two of the same.
One requires staples so that the blood's contained,
the other's just a thought you'd rather not maintain.
I get that neither are a source used to entertain,
but at the end of the day crudeness aint pain.
Offence is just a nuisance you choose to refuse,
it aint a scar, a cut or a bruise.
Scars are something you can never remove,
but when I got mine I made jokes that amused.
So can you help me now please and give me some clues,
when I'd been hit by a knuckle duster I was less confused.
Do you really feel pain when I'm crude and rude?
Please explain how words upset and leave you offended.
How does it feel and how do you end it?
Is it just simple natural sounds that you can't stand?
Compare that to soldiers losing limbs and can't stand.
If this is you I've just one thing to say my friend,
your life is easy if words drive you around the bend.
POTD
5/7/2018
Be the beauty that dwell to spread,
For all to share colorful moments.
Be the cheers that spring to yield,
Good laughter to birth inner peace.
Let crudeness not teach beauty's value,
Like darkness preaches light's worth.
Let melancholy not bury cheers' birth,
Like sunlight helps seeds germinate anew.
May all you crave for not be like shadow,
Unto your table as the daily bread.
May the blessings that will be bestow
On you, be the ones you really need.
This day of the year; many happy return,
Shall accompany you in His presence.
Through days and nights commitments,
Which shall make you enjoy great upturn.
Congratulations on this day, dear brother
Your wish is not meant to make you bother
Best wishes on this day. Oh grace!
Define redress power to foster pace
You're the best with kindest regards.
Make the best out logistically
And like Bayern, play your cards,
Projecting unique docket optimistically.
Up Chelsea with trophy parade in town
Lolz! Down Arsenal with a useless crown
Timileyin, that's for every diehard blue fan
Who ends up with excuse of the ban.
Winks!
How obnoxious is Meghan Markle?
The one who married Royalty, with a
ring that makes a whole room sparkle?
Turns down flowers from her Caucasian
father?
Then makes a video insulting her mother-in-
law, Elizabeth, the Queen, why bother?
Melissa McCarthy, playing the Queen?
She should only have such class.
A foul-mouth, tawdry comedianne, and
Hollywood and the Woke Crowd just laughs
and gives her a loving pass?
To such depravity and grossness, we do
howl right along?
Tell, me do, whatever became of honor
and respect, as crudeness is our new
national song!
I pray both do come to their right mind.
Disrespect for parents in any form is both
ungrateful and most unkind!
8-8-2021
~1~
Commandment Four:
Honor Thy Father and thy Mother
Edited. Apolologies for having her first name spelt wromg!
KUDOS to Tom C for telling me. Thank you,
How fun it must have been
To be a man of the days long passed
To have the world at your feet
Imagination your only limitation
The rules were clear
The lines neatly drawn
Sometimes with hatred and with bile
Other times with blood but mostly with wine
They led their lives as they saw fit
Answering to no one but the law
The very law they wrote
One drunken Tuesday Poker Night
How nice it must have been
Never missing a hot meal
Provided by the servants they betrothed
To answer to their every beck and call
They never had to deal
With women screaming all the time
To have a chance at life
And exercise imaginary rights
The lesser man understood her role
To serve and never be served
Only to speak when spoken to
And hide the uncomely marks he had so graciously gifted her
Men could speak their minds
Without a care of how they would land
Crudeness, a valued trait
Rewarded with respect and a seat at the desk
Men had a very heavy duty
Women and children under their wing
They had to be ruled and disciplined
And herded so they would not stray
Woman means taken out of man
So it was only right
That man also took out of woman
To pay for the slight
Man took useless things
Like woman’s pride and sense of self-worth
It wasn’t like she had any use for them anyway
Maybe she shouldn’t have taken his rib
Man was heaven’s gift to earth
Woman would have been surely lost without his help
How lucky I would have been to be a man
A man of the days long passed
Eve listened to the evil feelings and thoughts in her heart.
Adam heard her hissing, as though, conscience tearing apart.
Arrogance-filled waywardness shined in the form of Apple.
Against their pride, the Almighty's love was seen to grapple.
Did the core conscience of Cain convince him to kill Abel?
Crimes and crudeness like one's flesh and blood became integral.
Suicide, homicide, and witchcraft continued like chains.
Under kings and emperors, humans were in endless pains.
Could Moses, Aaron, or Miriam save Yahweh's people?
Could saints and prophets of endless ages end every evil?
Who must win when humans and men fight for a bit of bread?
Why should humans fighting against humans find themselves dead?
Goodness failed. Evils won. Virtues lost wars against vices.
Existence shrank into contradictions and compromises.
Piles of garbage; sounds of carnage they motion
Blurry images of malnourished children
Struggling for breath and bread
They evince; the struggles as we grow
-of how we ourselves are adversaries to our improvement, a hated compliment;
Of our lust for not the future but the moment
In bold they write
headlines with demeaning adjectives
that best describe our tribe - negros
A continent taken as just a nation
With a bunch of foolish souls
With primeval irrationality, flagrant corrupt officials:
Followers of a God that is partial.
What they will never show
Is the hope and courage dancing
In those malaria eyes
The trueness in our loose ties
They won't write,
Stories of how our crudeness
Made them their goodness
Of us being their reservoir
A training ground for their geniuses —
Perfect confirmation of their guises.
Will they ever have those eyes?
Those that see us as civilized humans
Minding our own business.
57 years aback,
Millions of ebony shinning skinned individuals,
Meddled in this part of the world to form a country named Nigeria.
From the stand point of crudeness,
How Ignorance bred colonialism.
A sting never to be forgotten.
Those brutal stripes our fathers had borne,
So much hard work for no cost at all.
We were slaved night and day.
Although split into various clusters of ethnicity,
Colonized by people who saw us not as humans but animals.
At the clock of 1914 we were amalgamated,
controlled by one headlight of power.
As time went one, the baton of leadership was dragged,
From the hands of our dear colonial masters down to us.
We debated between military rule and democracy,
And weighed more in strength for democracy.
We have only but stood for one government,
A government of the people and for the people,
as the rule of law prevails ever ramifications.
Through this journey, states were created out of regions,
It spelt the beginning of a split into diversity.
And yet we have survived all attacks on unity.
We have delved together in pains,
cried alongside in times when blood was shed.
We have held strong to oneness,
moved from one tenure blissfulness to another of pain.
We are proud to stand tall to corruption with a blossoming economy.
We have learnt to love, to accommodate justice in our hands,
And to boastfully prevail over diversity.
From the North, West, East to the South,
Nigeria being so rich in nature's heritage has produced fertility.
we have a large choice of wealth,
Ranging from agriculture, oil produce to other natural resources.
Education has spread forth its wings,
and has embraced us to knowledge.
We have held strong wisdom as key to work wonders in and out of Nigeria.
We are 57 years stronger.
From crudeness we have journeyed through ignorance to certainty,
moved from dependence to freedom.
We are a sovereign Nation, self substitent, powerful in influence and blest by God.
The Giant of Africa- Nigeria
The secret garden
with flowers of the wilderness
shall ignite with vibrance
amongst the weeds.
Soft petals dance with chaos
and I'm the boldest.
Spotlight on me,
a cacophony of laughter,
a splash of colour
against the grey.
I am shattered,
while vigorous,
yet the last one dancing
under a broken sky.
Where my ideas spiral
like rust shaded autumn leaves,
Whirling…Twisting
within the gusts of my mind
struggling against the currents of despair.
I wear my pain like a crown of thorns,
each sting a reminder
of battles fought.
The ripples of my laughter
mask the screams
hiding the shadows,
lurking within
the weight of my illness -
heavy yet so well-known,
A ghost I’ve learnt to dance with.
In this garden,
I shed my layers.
The world recedes and I am myself -
a girl with tears
who proclaims delight
and sorrow.
One who waltzes through the madness,
embracing chaos that completes me.
In the crudeness,
I shall find my truth.