Long Degradation Poems
Long Degradation Poems. Below are the most popular long Degradation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Degradation poems by poem length and keyword.
This New Year
Wish half of the world
Always be successful in life
May all of us men stay
Strong and responsible in the eyes
Of the rest of the world
We are the hope of X chromosomes
The forever partner of Y chromosomes
In our shoulders lies the powers of this world
Think of it, men is diminishing in numbers
We are outnumbered in every facet in life
Sprung up and show your wise innovation
The world is lacking World Leaders
Men, fill up the challenge to lead
Women, need us the whole time
When will life become a balance
Men are getting degradation in power
Women are taking positions in echelon
Of business, fashion, leadership, executives
Topping in population, in sports, and innovation
Wake up my fellow men, be brave in all ways
The world is going Y dominance
There are resistance, rebellion and conspiracy
Among men, more died in battle and addiction
Wake up men from deep stupor and slumber
Many men perish everyday of life's operation
How would this world be like without men
Science and Scientist help men genes generate
For life and mankind proliferation and regeneration.
I thought it was bad enough
when you took your people’s guns,
leaving them unable to defend
themselves or anyone,
making them incapable of
resisting evil’s sway,
leaving them adrift and helpless,
it is the tyrant’s way.
But now I see it’s even worse,
you suppress their free speech,
worried about words ‘hateful,’
so you turn to tyranny?
Wont even let folks in Britain
with right-of-center words,
tet Islamists have the run of it,
even with speech that burns.
Maybe you should sink, Britannia,
just sink beneath the waves,
’cause at the rate you’re going,
you’ll soon enough be slaves.
At Rotherham and Telford,
and a half-dozen more,
you turned your backs on monsters
treating daughters like whores,
ignored their degradation,
wouldn’t even take the case
more concerned with the word ‘racist,’
then women being raped??!!
You lock up folks for online
jokes done with a dog,
but genital mutilation
goes on in London’s fog.
Is this the same nation
that had ‘Rights of Englishmen,’
that ancient love of liberty
you spread to all your kin?
Perhaps you should sink, Britannia,
just sink beneath the waves,
’cause at the rate you’re going,
you’ll soon enough be slaves.
The nation of Shakespeare, Dickens;
they showed us how it’s done.
Chaucer, Elliot, and Thackery,
Shelley and Tennyson,
you once gave us Lord Blackstone,
a love for rule-of-law,
you faced down Napoleon
pried Europe from his claws,
held the line against the Nazis,
when all others had fell,
the full list of accomplishments
one voice could never tell.
Yet you throw away all of that,
toss aside geat glories,
just so you can get onboard
with the evil of P.C.?
So sink, sink Britannia,
just sink beneath the waves,
’cause a quick death is better
then living on as slaves.
(Satirically modeled after the famous poem 'Rule, Britannia' by James Thomson.)
Truth shall let out
When I gave the world my heart
A lesson leant
Love is nothing but lust,
Tow plus two are ten
Sky is nought but down,
My eyes open to the world
All I said is truth;
Now I have grown old
I see meta you,
But my soul is on errand
To give the world the lie,
He is immortal,
If one raise hand upon him, he's like
Water that is without a scar;
He would give entire lie
Since I need must die,
The truth shall let out,
SOUL, go give the lie,
Flesh is nought but dust;
Adventure in life is market
Tell church of the ONE
That sees all,
Tell mosque they both are one
And remind them of the hell,
The good own the zion
Tell security forces of protection,
They are the people's lung,
Bribery is an abomination;
Corruption lead to degradation
If they reply with lie
Give them the lie
Tell politicians to protect their
Name by finding a way to do with their
Kleptomania fingers,
Their country must rise
If they could reply
You must give the lie
Tell court of injustice, fact
Is their warrant,
They are the people's hut,
They should not let them hurt
Tell the world love exist,
They are neglecting obvious truth
Tell broken heart
To find one else heart
To heal one owns heart
If they reply with lie
You must give entire lie
Tell hatred he's a false,
Once he cannot confront the truth,
To let the world see his ugly face
Oh! A huge pity, in his presence the truth
Shall rise
Tell vultures of their lost,
Their time will soon lost
In elusive word of prospect
Tell writers their pen is but sword,
The magic in their hand,
Helping the world in hand;
A sword without blood
Tell poets they are but mirror
Tell poetry she is but ideal of the mirror,
They both make the world a bright,
They both are great
If they could reply
You must give them the lie
Once you have fulfilled my want,
You can then have a rest,
For the scar you have left
Is interminable in their heart.
No Vanity Set For This Chap, No Way
(in praise of immortality)
Modesty an understatement,
when eyes chance
to look askew at looking glass,
mine reflection caught at a glance,
an old man's piercing dart
mirrors my blinkered acquaintance
faint recognition communicates
immediate tacit admittance
boyish good looks faded
with morning glory of youth
as senescence didst advance.
Similar to the strikingly handsome
Dorian Gray, this mortal
strictly shares penchant to affiance
a pact with father time, and
devoutly pledge allegiance
to remain forever unaffected
with ill fated biological alliance
even if mandate to pay
with my soul as sole allowance
to stave off the ravages of old age
maintaining glowing ambience
of boyish good looks, or...die...
twill be to late for an ambulance
to rush lifeless body
forthwith to hospital emergency,
an immediate appearance
of rigor mortis, a dead give away.
Cumbersome degradation of
corporeal essence breeds arrogance
born of desperation,
where chronological ascendance
robs cherished commodity,
thus pained angst
to suffer aging accidentally evinced
looking askance
hints of unavoidable assistance
when wracked by incontinence,
thus rendering incumbent orderly attendance,
hence awareness awakened to singular
choice as avoidance,
where vigilance espies silent auction
as decrepitude ousts clutching buoyance
quickly fading steamrolling capacitance
to cling (by the merest thread)
fat or slim chance
against depredations of...
inevitable circumstance trumpeting
"NON FAKE" absent cognizance,
sans horribly wizened wrinkled countenance!
SAVE THE MOTHER EARTH
Billions of years old this unique blue planet of ours
through time of tectonic turmoil fostered life’s evolution,
like the loving mother nurtured thriving things of nature.
The balance tripped as man started random exploitation.
Ravaged environment threatens disastrous climate change,
degradation of abused nature assumed global dimension.
Civilization is marching beyond the sustainable limit range,
little concerned, waiting for the doom’s day of annihilation.
It’s time people around the globe become sincerely aware
on our relationship of harmony with nature attention we pay.
For our children and grandchildren conserve resources of nature,
commit to save the Mother Earth on the International Earth Day.
February 17, 2019
Psst, You There, Just Once Won't Hurt
I'm Your Friend
By: Tom Wright
07/03/99
I have stolen your children,
caused broken homes,
fostered child abuse
and killed your neighbor.
Because of me you have ungodly thoughts
and perform ungodly acts.
I shorten your life.
Ad men say that I'm what's happening
while many teens think I'm cool.
Like other sin, I'm portrayed as glamorous,
the in thing to do.
To many, I'm a crutch,
still others an excuse.
When lonely, I'll pretend to be your companion,
for awhile.
Socially, I'll be just one of the guys.
I'm a battle in which you can't win,
at best, a draw.
To many, I'm classified as a disease
but correctly put, I'm a DRUG-- a habit.
A habit that you can't break.
Millions are spent yearly fighting things I've caused
yet I remain stronger than ever.
Man keeps statistics on Drugs,
Wars, Aids, Heart failure, Cancer,
Cigarettes and Automobile wrecks.
So it is with great pride that I say
I am responsible for more deaths than any of these
and the primary cause of a large part of these.
I raise insurance rates,
steal your pride,
and cause degradation and embarrassment
at every given opportunity.
Political lobbyist protect me as if their first born.
Citizens seek restitution in your courts
for wrongful deaths in all manner of things,
but not against me.
You will sue the car maker, the driver, the gun maker,
or the tobacco company,
but never the Spirits Industry.
I have a free ride as I destroy your lives.
Oh, in and of myself I'm not bad,
I've many useful purposes
and man has made me what I am.
I am that small bottle
that society chooses to ignore,
called Alcohol.
Psst, hey kid, over here
want a drink?
Death is not a final, static cessation, but rather a transformation, a continuation of energy, and an essential part of the biological and existential cycle. While the individual consciousness or organism stops functioning, the components of life do not disappear.
After the heart stops (clinical death), cells inside the body do not immediately die. They begin a process of degradation that takes hours or even days, during which they continue to function at a cellular level. The cycle of matter comprising a human body is never destroyed; it is transformed and recycled into other forms of life, such as returning nutrients to the earth to support new plant and animal growth. The bacteria, fungi, and microbes that inhabit a human body continue to live, thrive, and decompose the body after death, continuing their own life cycle using the resources left behind.
Life, as we understand it, cannot exist without death. Death provides the necessary space and resources for new life to emerge. If organisms did not die, the planet would be saturated, and the evolution of new life forms would cease. Death ensures that generations pass on, allowing for adaptation and continuation. The energy that powers life—metabolism, movement, thought—continues to move through the ecosystem, transforming from one form to another rather than disappearing.
Many viewpoints suggest that “death” is merely a transition of awareness or a shift in the state of being. Some philosophies argue that consciousness does not end, but rather transitions into another state, sometimes described as returning to a universal consciousness or moving to a different dimension of reality. Death is often viewed not as annihilation, but as a “rebranding” or transition from one form of life to another, similar to how a caterpillar “dies” to become a butterfly.
Death gives life its urgency, meaning, and structure. The knowledge that life is temporary (death) provides value to the time spent alive. It drives creativity, love, industry, and the desire to make the most of the present moment. Without a final chapter, a story has no structure. Death acts as the boundary that allows life to be experienced as a complete, coherent experience.
Eddie/Dad
I try to see
back before
to who Eddie once was
just barely before when
the bending began
Eddie was after all
a cute child
wide eyed
hugging kissing and kind
Somehow horrible happened
It tricked and trapped his mind
Loud shouting screaming sounds
parents preaching pain
through domestic degradation
careless communication
fraught with frustration
Pass the potatoes please
then spilled milk smacking sensation
belt welts broken eggs no bacon
Get up go clean up
never ever interrupt
battles brief and abrupt
ranting and raving
mom misbehaving
Eddie helpless and in need of saving
experiencing what no child should be braving
Learning man lessons
before he started shaving
He can't depend on dear dad
who pretends perfection
in his ship shape barber shop
where his jolly joking rarely stops
Important friends doctors and cops
humorous happy back slaps
Eddie feels hidden looks and subtle attacks
Shoe shine simple
comic book quick
When the shop closes
Tearful Eddie gets another licking
At two times five even Eddie starts kicking
his hurt turns into fists swinging
runaway day trip escaping
Then away he starts staying
getting into trouble time
not enough praying
rules that need breaking
Who he'll become
there's little mistaking
what he wants he happily starts taking
He can't shake the mistakes
Travels life fast with worn brakes
Tears turn into lakes
He has and has caused
many heart breaks
Sometimes past prisons
Are to hard to escape
I think of my daddy
dear Eddie
and my soul shakes
Sometimes time ticks
Other times it just takes!
Pauline
------------
There once was this unbelievable Lady, of great source
who travelled this great Earth, as a matter of life's coarse
carrying within her, a heritage of great - wondrous force.
To the World, - then and now - she brought the word
onto two continents - many where fortunate and heard
and saw beauty and degradation - preformed - of this land
and the heroics and genocide of the first - the Red Man.
This Lady, of integrity, honesty, great soul, came to stand
for - what there is so little left of - from the hand of man
as we trample upon much of what once was noble, human
and of coarse, the source, the force that could make us so -
humane, especially at a time in this World's long history.
This was a beautiful Lady, who performed - wrote a story.
B.J."A" 2
February 1 2009
Playtime in the bone-pit.
Sanctified ritual amalgamates
sawdust savagery with infantile hunger
and births a blank recognition
within the eyes of the disbelieving.
What is it?
Praise be to the Geek.
Empty, gone and automated he devours
his daily bread of chickens and rodents with
a dry heroin mouth that grinds and chews
towards infinite sideshow pay days.
Strange but true!
Mister, he was made for it.
Humiliation sets in the veins like road tar,
inducing another bite of feathered neck
and flapping wing as his eyes fix on a
deceased, interior landscape that was once him.
All Alive!
The saint reflected.
Beyond self, he is indestructible.
Through tooth and stomach, he has
relinquished the facades of love and hate and
in his mouth they see themselves.
And they’ll always pay to watch him eat.