Long Depravity Poems
Long Depravity Poems. Below are the most popular long Depravity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Depravity poems by poem length and keyword.
Avast emotional gulf manifested; courtesy
series of unfortunate events; sundered
biologically accorded, cherished, enshrined
paternal bond; resultant dereliction defies,
justifies, ratifies...dissonance; unbearable
hindsight excoriates impropriety reviewing
dirty deeds done dirt cheap; impossible mission
to excise indelibly etched psychological
impacted repercussions upon mine fountainhead;
weighing excruciating deserved self loathing;
permanently deplorable depravity yoked;
unyielding choke hold, no longer asking
forgiveness, but airing errant culpability;
dada's guilt indefensible impropriety; begetting
permanent fallout; exacting just desserts; bitter
regret beast of burden (oxe see moron) housed
within self made villain; unjust to impinge your
providential opportunities, whose blessed smarts
plus unfettered, unencumbered, undaunted...
daring do promise productive existence par
excellence, versus anxiety riddled torturous
legacy writ large across countenance this papa;
analogously das scribe bing mortal epitaph, while
dark shadows haunt this edgy rusty knight, who
once pawn time shrugged off mischievous
lascivious actions as payback; recognizably erred;
misperceptions (mine); deduced ex post facto,
when the missus doled out unpleasantries;
exploding anger; vented regarding significant
roiling perturbations harkening to her own
unrepentant poisonous stinging toxicity;
delivered courtesy birth parents; hands lack
king awareness to rock cradle with tender
loving care, hence burdened with childhood
tsoris prior to accepting yours truly as life
contra dance partner these preceding xxii+
years avoiding unseemly behavior; aware
that the mother of our two darling daughters
doth love and forgive me, though recouping
similar results with first offspring may remain
tense, and many years past not a happy camper.
Dong..Dong.' no tinkling bell will do.' For
The obcenity of their depravity.' Is so deep
It is ( almost untrue! ) w e f heads are all scabious.' A shining sickness I call it all through.'
Its also in the big charitys and arms dealers crews
The rot stinks out beyond any known stench.' At the 'un' it is deeply entrenched
Most of world leaders, are steeped and
Drenched, its of such bad spiritual depth, that also
Covers their bodies.' To distance yourself
From their proximity
Surely cannot be any wrench.' In fact Distance
Is your defence.' Mentally as well..Leave
Such foul creatures, to the ministrations
Of hell..They have slaughtered humanity
They are wallowing in blood.' They are the
Haunt of their actions.' Under obcenitys
Flood.' Aquaintances of King C another monstrous creep and andrew and epstien
maxwell whose evil runs deep, like faucci
And kidman, and diddy others too.' liberace
Who hurt (Jamie Redfern.) Mate this whole lines for you.' Along with Fiona Barnet..I'll call out her name trafficked and abused then mocked defamed..Yet i your countryman..Place the
Blame.' On the beasts who are brothers to
To the ones mentioned first, I'll not
Bow ! rather i acknowledge upon them sits
Gods curse.)
Weakness
Even if I were big and huge
And muscular like a giant
This wouldn’t do me any good
If I chose to be defiant
Why would I rely on my own strength
When my inner self is weak?
It’s obvious from the way I think
And act, and even speak
But still I stubbornly persist
I shall and must be free
I will decide how I shall live
No one is the boss of me
Humility and modesty
Are for the simple-minded
The ones who dare not take a chance
I insist their mind is blinded
And though I’m prisoner and slave
Of this mindset I am in
I still will fool myself that I
See the benefits of sin
It’s the power of the flesh
The lure of what is wrong
The enticement of depravity
Things for which I should not long
I wished the weakness that’s in me
Was weaker than my strength
Then I would certainly reflect
Yes I would, at any length
But weakness is a force in itself
And the sooner it is tamed
The greater chance there may exist
That I won’t be badly shamed.
Wendy Nipas
There was a polite society, in so many lands..It was regulated by capable hands
Sober people, would meet and discuss; at
Walks in the park.? Horse shows and such
Healthy larks..And there was that aspiration to rise even higher, maybe to a
Royal castle.? Where you might partake.!!!
Of an almost (holy fire?) Through rose tinted glasses some perhaps almost swooned at the thought.' Where all would be..? Almost perfection.! Only the best did
There resort.' Although there indeed were
Dungeons deep in their bowls they were mere relic's of past depravity..The betters had escaped all that now.' Here there would be awards given.' Amidst sighs of
Chiffon ans silks.' You could support wars
That spread democracy.? My how the imagination could be caught.' Up up up.!!!
Yet out all around , honest working people were being taxed into the ground.' While The climate god was fete'd..And damaged veterans took to tents, un-holy acts were being done its beyond sane Christian invent...'
She said, listen...I was silent;
She said, hear it? – the absence...
for amid, the usual chatter and clamor of
daily activity, other, more appealing, sounds
had vacated:
No bright, blush, cuddly storybook voices...
Gone the gay colored, squeezable, squeaky
prompts from toy animals, followed by baby giggles,
and excited puppy-dog tails –
In their place I saw Democrat Masks –
The depth of depravity a so-called human
class had sunk to, for power and control
over vulnerable others –
How can they be so evil? – a small, troubled
voice asked, only her eyes visible, seeming
deprived of any rays of joy – I had no sensible answer....
Where there once was heart and soul, now all had turned to brutal shadows of depravity – by poet
Where there once was joy
Now all had turned to pain
Where there once was sunshine
Now all had turned to rain
Where there once was starlight
Now all had turned to darkness
Where there once was grace
Now all had turned to shame
Where there once was kindness
Now all had turned to dread
Where there once was hope
Now all had turned to despair
Where there once was faith
Now all had turned to disbelief
Where there once was inspiration
Now all had turned to discouragement
Where there once was gentleness
Now all had to turned to coldness
Where there once was insight
Now all had turned to cruelty
Where there once was music
Now all had turned to fearfulness
Where there once was dancing
Now all had turned to marching
Where there once was love
Now all had turned to loathing
Where there once was singing
Now all had turned to whispering
Where there once was silence
Now all had turned to unruliness
Where there once was pleasure
Now all had turned to offensiveness
Where there once was intimacy
Now all had turned to distance
Where there once was passion
Now all had turned to excessiveness
Where there once was magic
Now all had turned to tedium
Where there once was happiness
Now all had turned to sorrow
Where there once was expectation
Now all had turned to a dead end
Where there once was beauty
Now all had turned to ugliness
Where there once was writing
Now all had turned to dialog
Where there once was poetry
Now all had turned to prose
Where there once was words
Now all had turned to thoughts
Where there once was promise
Now all had turned to contradict
Where there once was laughter
Now all had turned to misery
Where there once was heaven
Now all had turned to hell
Where there once was giving
Now all had turned to maliciousness
Where there once was God above
Now all had turned their back on love
''W'' New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Theme Word Number 9: WRITING
November 24, 2021
How dare you I thought to the questioner
Out of bounds
The NPR reporter asks Annie Clark aka St. Vincent
Are you, are you, you know ok?
Referencing her latest song Smoking Section
Ok so maybe she takes pills I don’t know
Lives on the stage
Of bravery or depravity but it’s just a way
It’s ok
Like as Robert Plant once said in another interview
I’m basically public property
And she loves it ok! Center of attention
Because yes she is that interesting
Pantyhose torn down her sultry love-to-lick-it left thigh
But Annie stumbles to answer that odd last question
I could almost hear her head on the radio
Tilt into the microphone and register
I’m embarrassed
I thought no no how unfair
Let me pick up your ancient GHB from the floor
And dust your vulnerable seashells off
Don’t let someone make you feel that way Annie
That’s what makes you so special
Ok
So you wanted to kill a guy then kill yourself just to scare him a little more
So?
To fall on a rush hour flow of taxicabs below
Unnoticed by anyone
Happens in a song
And any way it’s not the end as you finally said
I want to tell you I think I understand
The powerful woman in you
Though I don’t know you
At all
That song
Long before that interrogation
Was a fetched pail from the well within me
Lifted and overflowing with poetry
Made me fall hopelessly in love with you
And I know ok? How that’d make you laugh
As an artist
Mission accomplished
That song from you
A few innocent bullets fired at my retreating feet
While you are apparently required to live your life
Hereafter
To the chains of that one song and moment of strife
As if that is all you will ever be or…Are
You ok?
I guess
That’s what I’m trying to say in a long-winded and poor kind of way
Ok?
Judge not
It’s just all a great song.
Shaken snow globe disarray
Stark format unfamiliar
Relocated mountain ranges
Jacket assets of chameleon
Wobbled flesh given for return
Eyeballers display dollars
Fixated focus planted firm
Subject unacknowledged
Drifting body parts ignite
Lust of lurid possibility
From actuality retired
Maggot eaten depravity
Gyraters' slip into depiction
Resigned, pilot drives auto
Puckered faces maintain rhythm
Minds' contents, peeled potato
Stiletto gripping charicature
Formed from Adam's vital rib
Collared stilled near provocatuer
Audience outcome pathetic
Satirical image conjured as ideal
Patron clean faced gullible
Sensation powders scene unreal
Hand fulls of snowballs - impossible!
The Greek Olympians sent one of their own
To live among the peasants in a pastoral setting
Punishment for past transgressions with mortals alone.
O she thought there must be some mistake.
When she saw the rolling hills and fields covered with flowers
The grazing sheep at peace among the olive groves and vineyards
Bursting with life and energy in a symphony of love and music
A pastoral beauty the envy of every mortal and semi-deity, awake.
But soon she began to beg for mercy, begged for a release
From the incredible creatures who lived there, worse than beast,
Worse than the invasive weeds they violently try to kill,
Hungry ghosts or demons she thought from Hell.
And she begged to return to Olympus before they destroyed her,
Or killed her in their savage raging senselessness and ignorant weight,
In their spiteful vengeance and moral depravity and falsity,
Descending into brutality, transgressing all civil decency and restraint.
With scheming nastiness too heavy to even try to understand,
Surrounded by niggardliness and suspicion in an incomparable generous land
Incomprehensible ferocious jealously unheard of anywhere she had ever been,
Biting sarcasm beyond anything she has ever seen.
They even ridiculed her beauty and divinity.
She begged for deliverance from their filth and spite and ignorance,
From their gluttony and violence, which made the pastoral landscape
Become something quite disgusting, transforming her view of it into a rape
An intolerable nightmare of perverse selfishness seen through their sin.
Then she knew why she had been sent to this ruined Paradise,
The visual vestiges of Eden, turned into a veritable human hell
So, in the infernal heat of a passing summer, which seemed an eternal spell,
She began to see the consequences of sin, and repented for hers.
The Olympians’ divine purpose had been well served and she confers.
I observe the naked light un-folding' waking a day so bright, near broad seas
Rolling! In power rippling curling,
then dissapating, a breeze
arises carressing senses exciting.. The hills above show head and shouldered looming, i see lichen green on
Wayside bouldered, Burgundy
roses around a cottage porch, such beauty all
Naked there is no garb needed; naught."as is the
Moonlight; when it arrives, shall be un-impeded, I see cowslips yellow, the irisis
Blue, the sky in its splendour, and un-matched hues, of all this the very same
Is true.' In their naked states that God created, does anything decribed need enhancing? I say if any so think? Well they
Need berrating, what am i recieving
of deeper truths? Is God giving me
insight naming world delete's who
clothe war in piety, and sell greed..? As
blest? who are of those, who would
destroy not deliver, and Gods Spirit test"
Killers of all that is so great
and good! The naked gift
of ithe nnocent child' how deep lies your
Depravity? You by now; thrice damned imbiciles.!!!