Long Degenerates Poems
Long Degenerates Poems. Below are the most popular long Degenerates by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Degenerates poems by poem length and keyword.
Hell's fury ignites the tormented winds of horrifying fire.
Earth's howls in pain, as its land degenerates into a nightmare.
Swirling red dust and sand tortured and tormented the fallen.
Blistering is the swirling ash and flame beckon into its calling.
Tornadic flames and ash forming a bird of fire, she screeches in pain.
Unfolding its magnificent wings of fire as its flight broke hell's chains.
Soaring above the inferno domain, she knows her creation.
With a thought and a word, she destroys this horrid desecration.
Empty darkness covers the domain awaiting its master's touch of light.
The phoenix, with another word of love, creates Earth’s beautiful life.
"Gratitude plants the seed
for abundance."
Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass, p. 376
Attitude plants the seed
for growing love,
positive relationships.
Objectives plant the seed
for developing subjects,
stories of not only where we have been,
but where this indicates we are heading.
Love plants the seed
for growing integrity
with faithfulness to stories
already complete
and yet to arrive.
Hope plants the seed
for evolving faith.
Despair decomposes the seed
for dissonance,
absence of integrity.
Decomposition degenerates the seed
for regenerative development.
Competing alternatives plant the seed
for hybrid creolizing cooperatives.
Totalitarian WinLose intent
decomposes the seed
for healthier multiculturing WinWin democracy.
Darkness bilateral,
within and without,
decomposes the seed
for bicameral light.
Light plants the seed
for gratitude.
Gratitude plants the seed
for polyphonic plenty.
Robin Hood
The Boys from the Hood are always hard...Robin laughs in mockery,
for he is the thief among thieves, swift, hard, so intelligently...
A lifestyle for most buried in the Hood, 23 square blocks of misery,
but not for he, oh know Mr. Hood takes pleasure in using this as...
as his... Metaphorical hideout tree...In bad company...King Thief...
Here amongst the derelicts, addicts, gangs, and overall bad men,
he is an Omen, an unlucky out of place casuality of urban demographics.
He is sly, so sly like the fox, letting all of the immoral degenerates around him
get blamed for all of his bad stuff, all of his illegal escapades they take the blame.
Why? Because he is the King Thief, a thief without greed for he feeds who needs.
So people here hold him in reverie, like a King, but just a thief with a good plan,
he understands what others can't comprehend...He has a plan...And many fans...
Robin Mr. Original Boy in the Hood, he took it all just because he could,
leaving the rest of the Boys from the Hood to think that they're hard...
Poetry Contest: A twisted poem about Robin Hood:
Sponsered by:C.T.
bmdavey@
02/12/16
Usage of zprox
On coordinate graph
With axis angles
Zprox line
Zero proximity to poverty creation
Planning and adjusting equations in assets of involvement
Generational property line mathematics
As one economy degenerates
One deviation and rise over run is created
This social work is master data modeled in hmis
Poverty is never a real life
Only a word of criminal intent
A hate crime of elect able routine value.
Depreciation of rights by raising wrong
The accounts, DMV, budget etc associated with these votes and non votes by educating and involving forms a popular population which chooses no laws?
Homeless crisis byproduct of neglect of law by neglect of legislation created real estate fraud.
Homekey fraud is generational.
Removing postage is new news to the statement of state from localized control capital of states name.
Zip code cannot act
Zip code is a number
Why zip code was altered during fraud.
Contort objective reception of speech in forms of documentation.
documentation.
#realdonaldtrump #cagovernor #asmirwin #repbrownley #mikeytaylor #berniesanders #aoc #nytimes #latimes #tonybiasotti
Manipulation of legislation in legislature
Assembly bill creation origin of hmis also origins in Irwin's assembly
I live in a range of geography with zip codes
Homeless is fraudulent naming of finance
finance
#washingtonpost #theatlantic #cagovernor #asmirwin #mikeytaylor #repbrownley #bbcnews #dailymirror #declanwalsh #nytimes
#washingtonpost #theatlantic #cagovernor #asmirwin #mikeytaylor #repbrownley #bbcnews #dailymirror #declanwalsh #nytimes
Finally one day the old man
Will behave like a baby
Will cry like a baby
Will stumble like a baby
Will become sick like a baby
Will become weak like a baby
Will become helpless like a baby
But unlike a baby
He's going to retire from the society
Finally of no value to the society
And then overlooked by the society
But never by God
As God is kind and understanding
He says, I'm the bread of life
He who comes to me won't be hungry
He who believes in me won't be thirsty
Hurrah, the old man will be accepted
By our Almighty God
Regardless of his loss of value caused by
The unavoidable process of aging
Before he finally degenerates and leaves this world
What is it about us and our kind
Quietly sitting there
Not calling out the bullies
The liars the cheats the fake
Taking it passively from that
Whole class of degenerates
We’re just interested in being happy
In our little world of art and whimsy
We don’t have it in us to push back
Be it thick-skinned politeness or
Delusional optimism on our part
Is it anything less than our way
Of nodding sheepishly heads in approval
Not daring to retaliate and take a stand
For fear of speaking out of turn
Is it just our way of perpetuating
The bloodline of victims
Of pushovers and doormats
For fear of getting involved
Wallflowers not wanting to stir the pot
We want to carry on in fantasyland
Where lighthearted our type treads
Believing life can and should be fair
With everyone wanting to live in harmony
In our little world everyone gets along
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Twisty Pine
Trying to stand tall
With all scars exposed
Carved and gouged
Like the twisty pines
Bled slowly for their essence
Among a forest of disfigured
Unbandaged
Left to cry out forgotten tears
Of neglected fears
In silent slumbers asleep
Where dreams dissolve like sand
Through an infinity-glass
Dripping sweat into boiling oil
Like sap funneling into a brass cup
All to fuel this ceaseless machine
Called the foolish capitalist scheme
Where we self-victimize
And trust the political guise
To save us from our lies
While committing genocides
Right in front of our very eyes
And we milk the desperate
Chastise the disparate
Falsely loft the corporate
Empower the degenerates
Trying to stand tall
With my guts exposed
Scorched and brittle
Like the twisty pines
Bleeding through the burns
Among a forest of dismembered
Disbanded
Left to wait out the final years
As the inevitable collapse nears
In violent numbers they reap
Where teams divide the land
Like a supremacist class
Skipping threats, despoiling the soil
To tap crumbling veins until she dries up
All to fuel a caustic regime
Call all fools to prop this smokescreen
Time to self-aggrandize
At the cost of innocent lives
Teaching our children to despise
Without knowing where the hate truly lies
Why be real when you can pretend to be wise?
Trying to stand tall
With my roots exposed
Eroded and diseased
Like the twisty pines
Gripping to the ground
Among a forest of fallen
Decomposing
Left to die out with my broken peers
As earthen truth disappears
May my essence travel through the mycelium
Before the planet becomes a mausoleum
Transforming the scheme into a coalescence
Transmuting a dream into future’s presence
If there were persons I'd like too punch
Corbyn, that Labour bunch
I clench my fist and crunch
when I hear those lousy blunts
Jo Swinson and Lib Dems
psychological degenerates
backward thinking symptoms
in their no chance candidates
Brexit, I'm up for it,
but not the Party,
the electorate dont get it
their not so smarty
That Sturgeon bloke gets on my balls,
doesn't care for the majority
Scottish referendum ignore,
selfish priorities
How can these politicians
reject the system or democracy
and still hold their positions
while dead set on mockery
So if you moan about Boris
you've not looked on beyond he
cus he might be doing it horrid
but at least he respects democracy
It’s hard to quantify experiences, but to coin someone else's
original phrase, ‘you know it when you feel it.’
Now that I’m living in Paris, at my Grandmère’s 76-room ‘hôtel particulier,’ I find myself on the itchy edge of wealth, influence and power and while I don’t consider myself necessarily of that class, I’m certainly exposed to attempts to drag me into it.
Many afternoons, as I come home wearied by classes and braced for hours of study, there are these silver trays with little white, gold embossed envelopes (invitations), casually placed where they’re unavoidable, and it’s not unusual to find that one of the CMs has laid out a dress for me and a suit for Peter - though we seldom attend these events.
I find myself vociferously defending my schedule (for the thousandth time) - and I’ve only been in school three weeks: “Grandmère, I’m in med-school, I have homework.”
Let’s wax freeversely of the upper-class (as if I belonged)..
In elegant but confined houses
where lives unfold in drawing rooms
and the inhabitants are sharp and snobbish.
They struggle against social and erotic constraints -
frustrations essential to the drama and pathos of wealth.
Let the rabble be messily heterogeneous
and agenda-set “inclusivity.” It’s nothing to us.
It hardly foregrounds harmony or authenticity.
Civilized people are more reticent and buttoned-up.
it’s sexier and more romantic, to drive toward marriage,
where lovers work to deserve each other,
and individuals integrate into couples.
Failing this urbane integration, love degenerates
into solipsist libertinism and eventually, these
sad outcasts catch their deaths - apart and alone.
.
.
Songs for this:
Am I the Same Girl? by Swing Out Sister
It Hasn't Happened Yet by William Shatner
.
.
hôtel particulier = a grand urban townhouse (mansion) in Paris or other city.
76-rooms - 37 of those are bathrooms - do those count as rooms?
CM = chambermaid (I think Grandmère employs 12 domestic servants).
The rancorous people
There is a country we are not allowed to mention
lest we are banned and silenced if telling the truth.
Once they were an oppressed people who by default
got a country of their own and set about eradicating
the people who lived there.
Their viciousness is despicable. I cannot think of any
a country that would have gotten away with this.
They are hated by their close neighbours who pretend,
for the sake of money, to be allies.
Now, this country of moral degenerates are using
the COVID-19 as a weapon to stop the oppressed people
from getting the vaccine and hope the plague
will do the job, as their army is to slow and takes
its toll on young minds.
The power, the appalling state has today is only transient
sooner or later the hand that holds the whip will tire and
the country will drown in its blood.