Long Deranged Poems
Long Deranged Poems. Below are the most popular long Deranged by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deranged poems by poem length and keyword.
What is the difference between night and day... between darkness and light... Evil and good... Angel and Demon... How can we live among each other and survive.. hearing about hope.. trust.. honesty... and how can they live with Lust, despair, depression, agony, anger and such heartlessness...
You speak to me about this word called "Hope"..
Everyone has a chance to create their own lives.. to change the hand they were dealt
That there is something better out there
You just have to remind yourself of all the small happiness that happened to you over the years and it soon becomes greater than the despair..
You claim to be sadness.. to be depression..
In reality you just have moments of lowness...
Your world is surrounded with beautiful waving trees
A sunset that lights up the dawn sky
Somehow the ocean looks beautiful to you, the glistening of the sun upon the waves
You see happiness in everything that happens to you, you see something positive in all the things life gave you
But..
What if we do not see the same thing, what if I live in the darkness...
The deranged half of this world of which you cannot see..
What if everything you see, I see in complete blackness..
The sky is grey, the ocean is red... and the aura around my world is chained to a dark future..
How is it that we can live on the same planet.. but see two different views..
I can sense your light.. you can sense the darkness I hold within me.. All I see for you is a horrible ending.. Your hope.. is my dark secret
In my world I see you as the beggar.. the one who tells you good tales.. but can never prove them.. and keep asking for your attention.. they want you to believe them.. but yet you cannot see the sun in bright orange colors because in your world there is no sun .. there is only a moon...
Your beautiful day for me is like the desecration of a grave...
So I will ask you again...
What is the difference between night and day... between darkness and light... Evil and good... Angel and Demon... How can we live among each other and survive.. hearing about hope.. trust.. honesty... and how can they live with Lust, despair, depression, agony, anger and such heartlessness... ?
Does light.. somehow stabilize.. the darkness... ?
Can a Demon live without lusting for something pure?
How is it that the day can turn into night so quickly as if its not painful.. ?
(Part Two, Continued)
The better choice of the two, I believe is clear enough even for the ignorant.
Everyday a new adventure in human psychology, pain, and suffering.
allowed the privilege to interact with an endless array of human variety.
This disease knows no race, gender, class, sexuality, or political affiliation.
afflicting far more than the deranged few, as some would have you believe
a stereotype of persons with addiction, to create distance from the disease
It is possible that every living human, knows, or is related to someone afflicted.
Denying to acknowledge their loved ones condition, is the definition of ignorant.
It seems only fitting that the cause of our modern day's massive rise in addiction
Heroin, so numerous in its effects, stronger than any before, and more addicting
Is the direct descendant of man's original addictive remedy, the Opium Poppy.
The worlds percentage of heroin addicted persons, passing epidemic proportions
nothing in our lifetimes has possessed this level of destructive power.
society barely managed to subdue and heal from the international Opium problem
The fact an implication of how difficult this new epidemic will be to stop
A terrible time to be an addict, but prosperous for entrepreneurial persons
Maybe this is my chance to increase my level of success in my current hustle
I have the ability, knowledge, and connections to be a true kingpin.
However, one constant continuously holds me firmly at my current level of success
Held back so long by addiction, I finally realize the extent of my enslavement
If I didn't have to support an immense and ever increasing drug habit
Long ago, I would have reached the level of extreme wealth and riches
I am embarrassed to admit the expense of my extremely costly past time
But, I will say with honesty the number spent resides in the millions
And, that is at distribution cost, purchasing quantity at a wholesale discount
Unaware and not wanting to know the true cost if bought at street price.
An entire lifetimes of earned yearly salaries, injected into my plump veins.
More money has gone into my veins, than into many millionaires bank accounts
If they hadn't been used to chase a short and fleeting sensation and feeling,
I would be among one of the richest individuals I know, without a doubt.
Same time
Same place
Different color
Of the face
Same K-12 system
Same university
Different college
Who gained
More knowledge?
Who excelled?
Who got more hell?
Same job
Same school
Same students
Same certification
Different degrees
Who stayed
On their knees?
Both of us
Yes, indeed.
Who achieved
Honestly?
Well let’s see!
Same time
Same place
Different color
Of the face
I made it
By God’s grace
You are
A Satanic disgrace.
You are the
Face of hateful
Hypocrisy
I settle for
None of your
Fallacious foolishness
And malicious mediocrity.
Same hometown
I keep it real
You a damn clown
God’s giving you
A furious frown
A lazy witch
Probably born rich
Living in the sticks
Killing nature’s beauty
Just to get away
From people like me
An earth killer
Fake teacher
And destiny stealer
A true thriller
Makin fake scrilla
I worked hard
While you pressed bricks
Storing awful ATP
To make sure
You got the best of me
And people from my
Community.
My adenosine triphosphate (ATP)
From glycolysis in my body
After Krebs cycle
Gives off love
While yours come
From hate
We’ve had the same bodily
Processes similar chemical makeup
I just have more melanin
You act the way you act
Because of your grandfather’s mistakes
I hate to see your fate
If you don’t change
You are devilish
And deranged
I know your game
Your name
We’re from the same turf
You and I
Are carbon based products
One tries hard daily to be just
So that when the minister
Says ashes to ashes
And dust to dust
That I get the reward
I deserve
You got my reward
I still work hard
My ATP
Detests the enemy
It ain’t fair
That we walked in the same place
Respect you received
And hate slapped me in the face
Walking around with on your face
Did a dissertation on me
If I looked like you
With my knowledge
At 23 I would have had
Ten PhD’s.
Girl please you got the nasty woman disease
Get on your knees for the right reas’
Pray to us Jes’
Save me from being a real bigot
And sometimes on the sly
Help me to love you
And all your creatures
And accept diversity
You need help with that dirty blond hair
Pony tails sticking in the air
Depicting your true savior
Not mine that will catch the one’s
That are still alive and in Him
Up in the midair.
Cobalt storms; not azure skies,
predict changing seasons.
Vague ambiance of lies,
waltz with fated reasons.
So tug upon the corners,
try to veil the smile.
Gather all ye mourners,
weep for her awhile.
He knows that she flows,
rivers channel deep.
But ocean's floor below,
caress his troubled sleep.
Golden pair; wounded dreams,
silently entreat.
Moments slide between the screams,
stranded in the heat.
She can't draw inside the lines,
of howling winds deranged.
And up ahead; ominous signs,
the highway looks so strange.
But he can hold her brave will;
in his hands so tenderly,
not even strong enough to still,
his mind she cannot free.
He is the lust to breathe and fly;
his wings stay unused,
within her voice; an angel's sigh,
but the melody, confused.
When questions birth insanity,
saline begs for more.
But he can only hear and see,
the vision behind the door.
And he will toss; and he will turn,
until his eyes are bright.
But in the loss of orgasmic burn,
the other sighs in the night.
He cannot wait; the world is open,
quiet, he leaves the bed.
Heart is faith; pulse is broken,
but his soul must be fed.
With trembling hands; he gasps to feel,
her curves and body light.
Silken strands and he must kneel,
to deliver here tonight.
He hears soft cries; for all too soon,
the other is in pain.
As his soul dies; behind the moon,
denying need again.
Have you ever had to choose,
one over the other?
And you knew that you would lose,
giving up one lover?
Life is a composition,
he strives to hear the source.
He must create; orchestrate,
passion is the force.
When you read this piece of art,
you may think me wrong.
But I've heard the rhythm of this young man's heart,
and the music keeps him strong.
As he grows closer to his wife,
it's the stuff dreams are made of.
But from now til the end of his life,
he's alive in guitar love..
In my blooming brokenness,
I seek for a
clue of something meaningful,
but what if nothing of velvety value
ever lies within material items,
frozen in trembling time,
soaked in raining blood roses,
yet holds memories inscribed~
with blushing beams of blueberry glows,
drifting above hushed hills
sitting in the hollow hallways
in hallowed motionlessness.
Is it ironic that a golden mirror
emanates reflections
of more than just my
bronze silhouette?
It weighs heavy with seething secrets,
lost between changing seasons
and deranged emotions,
resigned in rhythmic requiems
of restrained freedom.
I remember the suppressed
sagas of silvery glass,
that stretched beyond my watery iris,
written with russet skin of fallen feathers...
and I whisper to the vermilion wallflowers
within my burgundy room,
of how I found the magical mirror
to my aching soul,
in a retail store, illuminated
by medieval chandeliers,
hanging in Victorian gloominess.
I used to sculpt crystalline chronicles
along the caramel-tinted frames,
that have seen stars of summer fade
into fragile springs,
while autumn arrived,
knocking on my conscience,
to cloak me in sparkling
champagne warmth.
But time is a relentless reminder
of how the garnet moon wanes,
and constellations of
glistening truth crack.
Now the mirror that heard
the unsung songs
beneath my marigold lipstick,
is reluctant to see the unspoken wounds,
leaving me stranded
in an accidental battle
with rhyme-less words,
for all that remains, untamed,
are hopelessly claimed strings
of familiar, once-upon-a-fairytales...
So it refracts, stands, unbothered,
like a forgotten ornament
left under a broken tree,
with weeping leaves and tainted twigs,
without a companion~
wrapped as a pleasant present
ribboned with riddles
of a weathered d r e a m …..
I have no desire to mindlessly
objectify an abandoned object
with mosaic metaphors…
Intelligent musical talent begins with this, to relearn the timing within our soul,
But other tactical psychological methods are busy swaying to and fro,
To an obvious yet nefarious covert Rhythmic tyranny of Mind Control,
Damaging trauma appears, disappears and reappears so often - irregardless whether anyone of us - really and actually know,
Although - know; you ought to, and know you must, if we're to avoid their evil demonic end goal, by economic slavery boom and bust,
Why have the masses flocked to what is essentially an obvious Lie..
The hitherto well understood well known treachery of bribery and trickery..to the ill-informed common eye?
Real answers lie within the Agendas of those,
With high unseen well hidden authority of tyranny.. now beginning to be exposed,
The blame so far as we can see for this all pervasive idiocy,
Fits squarely into Ancient Babylonian Occult vile Crypto Supremacy,
An unmentionable taboo for Society, though cleverly socially arranged,
Covertly hostile toward Humanity and our creative force..
By a certain inferiority complexed minority so deranged..
Ah yes - but of course!
A true Dictatorship and Tyranny
can and always will insist..
Upon those that have become uber-Liberal all accepting pacifists..
Those yet behind an otherwise obvious - facade of devious fallacy, don't want you to learn the reasons for the lie,
The mondane so often belies what is hidden within our words; within a sound,
The truth disguised as anything unprofound,
Explanation enough as to the premise of why..
The countless masses are now clearly and sadly being systematically psychologically, reduced to a pitiful state of abhorrent dependency,
We would certainly have to mention and be sure to say,
Please wake up a friend a colleague or a family member now, or at least today,
It is therefore clear that;
an in-depth searching root cause analysis, apparently can be,
Brought about and shared through some insightful poetry..
The written and the spoken word,
Do justice to those that cannot nor would never ever be heard,
So we might then listen in careful piety,
Or do not then be surprised to now find, that there are..
So Many Seduced by Rhythmic Pendulum of Trauma & Absurd Normalcy..
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
28th February 2023
There has always been an inter-outer over-under tender balance of loveless socio-equations as they super fit the psychosocial sexe-endices in this modern garner of pluses/minuses/bytes and scribbles mostly incommunicado inexperience and parental impreciseness as to, "anything planned", which in tomb leaves us doth a deranged desperate captive of that all inbibed prisoner **** of nun conformist adventurerers and that really, that there are just too many organic integers making for really bad math.intuitations/attributes and all of the familio do's and don'ts that creep bastardy across the years to inculcate, interfere, incase all of the hoped, promised integrity of just 2 people in love? with all that makes it their potential, not all of the hopeless, ne'r do wells, dead driven dud marriages that hoped to promulgate their failures onto the newbies totally unprepared, but willfully negative implicit on that new, and should be uninterrupted, all naked, seeing alter intense emoexplosive journeys to that wait waits, some supposes, everybody entices, everyone enthralls, quired questions, problem perplexes, initiates initiated, complexes complete, duty deforms, eerily exacts a viscous value, on properties promised a forever coexistance, but not at the expense of selfish selfness; can it be to an us award of a faceoff fervent fever, that WE, can coincide an opposite internal presence that allows us to be a universal component undeluded, underived, unpolluted by the natural wonders that are our genetic cohesions, so they can further their total promise to lead a connected life of copious love, desire and plentitudes of us-ness, disavowing all else in a socioinvasive parental wake of them vs us in all things blood/emo crass cursive? Leave them, the future lovers of us alone, let it flow and keep your, non orgasmic, loveless failures to yourself, old/tainted people of relations, lovers of social inhibitions it plays to an ill-at-ease, stubborn Igor-ignocompliance. Yes, we had Summer Love/Woodstock, but then we grew to be livestock, waiting for the senior-socioseniorslaughter pill mill. You must have some small, tinder, macromolecule of what it was to be standing in the bliss of universal underware; a long time ago in a universe far, far, away. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! the neighbors.
I waited
Under the outspread foliage
Of the banana tree,
With ripening fruits dangling precariously,
Wondering,
With eyes set on the earth,
Wishing I understood
This everlasting madness.
To what end would man go,
To what end?
A mystery it remains,
Like the age old conundrum
Of the seniority between the hen and the egg,
Like the unfathomable depths of the bottomless pit...
Oh! Lamenting in unbridled grief,
Mother of all,
Seated on an ashen throne,
Wails poignantly,
While her children trade mighty fists,
Wetted by her tears,
Buoyed no less by her flashing darts
Of fierce reproof..
I, a mere bystander,
Watching, meditating, confused,
Lost, trying to understand what
Led to such fisticuffs
Between brothers who sucked on
The small obfuscated nipple
And rode the same burdened back..
Yes!
To what abysmal end?
What, hidden under the rigid crusts of the earth
Drives man to seek so zealously
To bury his fellow man
Six inches below
And shake his head
From side to side
Wearing rehearsed frowns,
Indifferent, obeying the laws
Of anarchy, and basking
In the prestige
Of ill advantage?
For in these matters,
Fasidically christened "the survival arts"
Men show sleight of hand,
Dexterity and mastery of the deleterious science
Of death...
And for his fellow, he is unapologetic..
Fallen, have you into the cesspool
And mucky wastes of nothingness,
You survived not,
And as such, were not fit to survive...
We, must hold our
Small heads in mad agony,
For shamelessly, we have
Trampled on the little men,
So dastardly disparaged
Till they shrunk,
Into tiny ants
Who suffer in silence
While the mammoths fight
For the trophy from Sheol..
I wondered....
Days passed,
Nights went by, sleep eluded me,
Nightmares sought out my deranged mind
And tormented me,
And I could not bear it any longer!
I searched the lengths and breadths of the earth
For answers, from men
wizened beyond my years,
But found them not...
I found only fools,
Tightly snuggled in their cosy territories
With mighty barricades
And tall barb-wired fences,
Throwing orgies...
For they had defeated themselves...
It was then, I slept...
This time, in the gentle
Stillness of the Caspian,
Wishing I was never born....
Winds of change
are fanning the flames
are fanned by the deranged.
The flames of misdirection,
the winds giving chase
(orchestrated by instruments to enrage.
Horned cheering section.)
Drones of the BlackRock, riders in holdings
park their game pieces in place,
holding and withholding payment Ace.
Get out of jail free blowhards,
influencerned by the currency,
jeering and cheering till blue in the face,
screaming Climate
Emergent Divergent Hunger Games Emergency.
Media trumpet producing endearings,
(lipstick on a Pig) for their Rat King,
(as on a White Horse)
as we grow too Sheepish to speak out, too pale
and timid to spell out their obvious course,
to vomit our rejection as diseased
as we are enslaved
under cells and convections and
tales intertwined, sanctioned throughout,
Stormgate's, leak, its Codex toothed, overreaching security breach.
Never again will we be as we were,
neVer to take flight,
or steer our own course again in our own
atmosphere.
The Mandate is clear, the Score
is reported by message board monitors
of the process, onboard,
onboarding for the Beast System processors,
riding People, herding, coral carolling
to Lucifer, sacrificial Sheeple in a transitional
Rat Race, vermen looking through peepholes.
The Piper's progress is polaroided in twain,
kodachrome rolls back the esteem, smiles of the insane, back of the head, peace sign.
Shut wide eyes rolling white for dead retina scan mouth foamed enrapture
Signature erasure brain panned for fools gold,
sold out, captured souls,(devout).
Recorders in tow, changing how the wikiwind blows,
how counts voted by Moderator,
gestapo teams, Bon Appetit, Virtual Travel, Vogue, Akinator, Mad Magazine.
(Needle in the Aperture bobbin tattoo
BuckarooBonzai glass saddles and shoes.)
Laser id suture chip sewn in diodes
of TripleBeam Barley, Wheat, Triplesec, meat...
Meta threads to breadcrumb gumshoe private dick heads, treads of
sleuth your every thought and intent, move.
Passenger monitoring, the acceptable temperature, moderate beautiful soup lukewarm chum
to taste an ode to the pasts vernacular
naked lunch humble pie shoots
in the face gruel,
heckler
of riding the storm out without Jesus, fools-Spectacular.
What is time?
But a rotation of the planets,
A love gone to the wind,
Or a setting of the sun?
Sometimes we can’t tell the day,
But by the bottle we drink.
Or the books I read,
…Plato, Steinbeck, and old Walts leaves.
What is art?
But a set of statements,
An aesthetic feeling,
Or a theory on communication?
And other times I sit in the wind,
Nostalgic story’s swim in the chaos of thoughts.
A world of energy measured by mass,
To the speed of light,
…Have you ever seen God?
Or a rope strung to the choking of seeds?
Submission,
Submission,
A world I don’t want to keep.
Do you know what it is to hurt?
Love burnt to a gravitational hole,
Failure that sticks like a parasite
…to the bone.
Loss of light,
Loss of touch,
Loss of comprehension,
It hurts so much.
Here we dwell where time has no meaning,
A court of the gods,
With a promised feast
Consumed by gluttonous dogs.
Out in the hills we roam,
Lost like infantile, mad children.
To a hunt of tragedy,
Is the mistake of Cephalus.
Can you feel the cold chill,
The rains of pain?
The wind is our home,
And a soft mad echo
Speaks to us,
…what is it saying?
What does it mean,
To be?
Standing one with nature,
Crouched by a river,
Can we interpret the drones
Of a suburban family?
They speak of regulation,
And hold a working class hero
As the sweets of moderation.
Doesn’t the road of excess
Lead us to the palace of wisdom,
And can’t we say truth
Is but of a relative nature?
But behold,
I believe in a long
Derangement of the senses
To
Obtain
The
Unknown.
Though, What is life?
Art, poetry, a figment of the imagination.
The skeptic concludes
To a weak will.
The artist spins a love
Of
Degradation.
The contemplative
Reaches the of height of formation.
The meaning,
What is reason for the meaning?
A will, a thought, a spinning of a thread,
Or,
The fabrics of dread.
Two paths, one entity,
A system from a creed of deities.
Can you speak when I say,
“Reckless abandonment,
Deranged lonely nights,
Failed plains inside the mind.
So useless to try,
The common misperceptions of what’s right,
And the twinkle of tears gone by,
…Welcome to life.”
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