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.
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
Loneliness...
Such a mild word to quantify what my mind feels,
Such an insipid word which provides no effect
In the narration my tale of loneliness,
Words cannot quantify what courses through my veins
Rather let it be left crude and unrefined
For in the crudeness of what I feel
Lies the essence of what I feel:
Loneliness in its true form.
I longed for the warmth of the hug of a companion,
But I received only the cold breeze of winter on my chest,
A constant reminder that I am all alone.
Resoundingly hollow my innards feel,
A constant reminder that I am all alone,
I longed for friends,
But all I got was a pack of backstabbers,
Who stabbed me in the back and abandoned me,
With a touch of professionalism,
'Twas no shoddy job for I still bear the marks of rejection and betrayal,
A constant reminder that I am all alone
Holed up I am in a corner,
Held by the shackles of loneliness,
I have become a stagnant river
Which shall not move e'en though the tide doth ebb me
For loneliness has sapped what little energy I have left,
Dear friend, as you read of my plight, I prithee
Spare me no pity or beg of me to mingle with the pack once more
For I shall not be dragged out of my hole to be stabbed once more,
So I prithee, dear friend, leave me in the solace of loneliness,
For I find more solace in her company
Than I shall ever find in a world of traitors.
I am all alone.
Silent for the moment,
it sits waiting;
looming in the corner,
one eye gleaming.
Other occupants
of the room, cower.
The classics stifle sneezes
as their dusty pages
flutter with fear.
The Bible hugs the
lower shelf of the table;
protected by its own nonentity
and irrelevance.
The monster watches.
One small movement
will alert it.
My impotent pen drops
and rolls to its
favorite hiding place.
My groping finger lures
the lurking beast to action
In helpless fascination
I stare
as the creature calls
for re-enforcements.
They’re coming in
by twos and threes.
I recognize war and pestilence
as lewdness and vulgarity
quickly follow.
I try to calm the ogre
when the room becomes
crowed with rudeness,
crudeness and indecency.
Horror and fear filter in
pushed by murder and
mayhem.
I frantically search
for old familiar friends.
Manners and kindness
have been overcome
by the brutish force
of the invaders.
No longer in charge
of my own living room,
I almost succumb
to the subtle enticement
of the demon in
Pandora’s box,
posing as a simple
source of entertainment .
Sanity stirs,
causing one faint flick
of my finger.
The serpent
crawls back into his lair
to sulk and formulate
plans
for another invasion
of
my peace and quiet.
By: Joyce Johnson came in 7th
Since the day I was conceived, her delicate hands have held me.
Since the day I was created, her hands floated my first endeavor.
At the point when the tears started to rain, her hands covered me.
She has made it a priority to facilitate protecting her treasure.
She was ecstatic to curl and smooth my classic hair Sweep.
Her hands sufficed, and my scars were concealed.
She drew me closer to the star with her soft, steep.
When I finally got her, she hugged me and, by God, she cheered.
I'm glad that she wasn't hurting me when she was playing.
She seldom uses her hands to form and twist trees.
Her hands would embrace the focuses she was making,
Presumably, I'm related to her and depending on her strands.
Time has effectively weighed intensely on her side.
The radical strive of lifting her hands spurs her soreness.
I've never seen such a shocking model of heart inside.
She is my initial stage where foments all my crudeness.
Who taught Love that the most prized asset is the heart.
An exquisite family has blessed us to call it our own.
They remember us for who we are, not for what I've put in the cart.
She enjoys being a mother regardless of our faults and groans.
ALL YOURS (Jun 15) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Written; May 7, 2021
Silent for the moment,
it sits waiting,
looming in the corner,
one eye gleaming.
Other occupants
of the room cower.
The classics stifle sneezes
as their dusty pages
flutter with fear.
The Bible hugs the
lower shelf of the table,
protected by its own nonentity
and irrelevance.
The monster watches.
One small movement
will alert it.
My impotent pen drops
and rolls to its
favorite hiding place.
My groping finger lures
the lurking beast to action.
In helpless fascination
I stare
as the creature calls
for reinforcements.
They're coming in
by twos and threes.
I recognize war and pestilence
as lewdness and vulgarity
quickly follow.
I try to calm the ogre
when the room becomes
crowded with rudeness,
crudeness and indecency.
Horror and fear filter in
pushed by murder and
mayhem.
I frantically search
for old familiar friends.
Manners and kindness
have been over come
by the brutish force
of the invaders.
No longer in charge
of my own living room,
I almost succumb
to the subtle enticement
of the demon in
Pandora's box,
posing as a simple
source of entertainment.
Sanity stirs,
causing one faint flick
of my finger.
The serpent
crawls back into his lair
to sulk and formulate
plans
for another invasion
of my
peace and quiet.
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
I will love you when the evening exudes unspoken goodnights,
Into dreams that set sail with only you and I.
And end in unbroken mornings that begin in playful grins,
Where you catch me drift into your eyes again.
I will love you when you spill over like cracked radio waves,
When your head hums with static that keeps you awake.
I will sing to you under the tall trees on golden days in spring,
When everything else hushes like an empty midnight street.
And when you run and I chase until we tumble to the ground,
And I seep into your touch like something lost was found.
I think I might love you tomorrow and indefinitely,
But that is me, and I feel far too many things.
If you’re going to leave,
Don’t leave for a man
Who mirrors but does not understand.
Who will tell you you’re only good the way
He trapped you in that second of nudeness,
That empty impression of ritual crudeness.
If you’re going to leave,
Be sure to take everything.
Take the night right out of the sky,
And the dream right out of sleep.
Take the spring and the shade,
And the anthem we made.
And leave me with static;
Leave a blank page.
Leave me with the piece of me that doesn’t lie awake.
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!
Walking to Jesus Town.
Make no mistake about it.
They'll be mistakes along the way.
They'll be times I doubt and wonder.
They'll be friends I leave in my trail.
They'll be instances of crudeness, forgetfulness.
They'll be many flowers, too.
The age is dying.
But that's okay, everything is dying!
Everything dies like the sun will one day
And we think that's beautiful, right?
At sunset...when it's...dying?
You're dying, too...
And I'm dying on my walk to Jesus Town
I'm dying all the time...
I get there, when I get there, oh when I get there,
I'll do wind sprints around his house
and that will keep me alive
That will keep me from ever dying.
I love things too much to die...
I'm asking you to get up now,
Find a mirror and kiss your own reflection.
Remind yourself how much you care.
Run past Jesus Town, I don't care,
But in the near end,
Remember the flowers
And your own lovely face.
Spout out of the sanctuary
That keeps you safe and alone.
There are fires outside
There are ways to make a plan,
Ways to blaze your spirit.
No way out one way in
My pulse is wearing thin
Crudeness, followed by my beaten feet
There was a reason for us to meet
I tell you now i tell you then
I love you, i repeat again and again
Cliche is my middle name
Fighting to win this wicked game
I talk so you shall listen
Eyes of pearls begin to glisten
Frozen, emotionless you remain
You and me i proclaim
A choice you soon must make
A tragic risk i'm willing to take
Follow me and i will show
A lifetime you have never known
I am here you are there
Trust me now it's only fair
Believe in me as i believe in you
Feel this love it's ever true
I am the future he's the past
Staying with him will fail to last
You deserve an honest man
Someone who will know and understand
Fates with us not with him
I will prove that love can swim
Leave that Grinch you hold so dear
When you do I'll be waiting here
He won't wait unlike me
Off in the distance i will be
With a rose by a well you will see me stand
Across the decaying bridge to wonderland