Long Dishonored Poems
Long Dishonored Poems. Below are the most popular long Dishonored by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dishonored poems by poem length and keyword.
What say you now, before the crowd, for these most heinous crimes.
You're a wretched sort, to face this court, in most uncertain times.
A capital charge, against your heart, for loving all who live.
It's against the law, to serve your God, to sacrifice or give.
Hear me judge, for I will never budge, not an inch or mile long.
For when I die, you'll hear them cry, and remember me in song.
I accept your charge, against my heart, all I did was offer food.
For the hungry, broke, and weary, can still find a use for good.
Do you understand, standing before your peers.
You broke our rules, now seem a fool, I propose a sentence here.
Twenty five, not short of one, with all the reason to fear.
For a would be hood, does not as he should, which is simply to avert his gaze.
Instead you helped, those meager welps, find some further days.
It's the interest of all, to see them fall, and build upon their bones.
For we cannot gain, while they remain, sleeping around our homes.
Hear me again, oh dishonored bench, were it simply up to you.
Not a single face would sit, the jury and its pews.
I did no wrong, I yield none, and I'll fight you till the end.
For I am one, knows right from wrong, who's knee will never bend.
I plead guilty, most accursed court, take me as I am.
But know that I'm a lion, to be slaughtered as a lamb.
What say ye now, oh jurious crowd, the defendant has had his chance.
What motion carry, to find you merry, did his words change your stance.
Or is he guilty, traitorous and filthy, render me verdict now, and remember as you do what verdict pleases the crown.
The jury bickers, amongst itself, and finally one does stand.
She's old, and weak, and frail, and looks upon this man.
By power of the people, we see you just, now release him as you should.
For all will know a feeble day, and wish a Robin Hood....
Oh, give me a home where everyone is free to roam,
sharing hugs and kisses with family and friends
Where there's nothing to fear 'neath the capitol dome
And my combatant countrymen have made amends
I want incivility to stop, ending the bitter hostility
Brother vs brother, hating each other with animosity
It's a misnomer to call ourselves "The United States"
when any topic discussed turns into chaotic debates
I desire a state of well-being, a country free of ill-health
Life is more important, compared to any material wealth
When did belligerence become accepted by so many?
What happened to the smiles we wore? I no longer see any
If it were possible, I would paint everyone in a sepia hue
No blacks or whites; color would no longer have value
Medicine would not come with side effects that could kill
America would be great again because of man's goodwill
Freedom would belong to each man, woman, and child
We would respect nature and protect animals in the wild
Americans would live together in harmony; honor bound
Proud of our homeland, and once again world renowned
I long to see the U. S. have representatives who care
about our beautiful country, and keep oaths they swear
I want Old Glory to fly high, not used in domestic battle
dishonored by rioters, stampeding like a herd of cattle
Arguing over who's at fault has only brought us shame
What good are words and fingers pointing out the blame
I'm ready to move on and it's my hope that you are, too
Americans, remember what John Kennedy asked of you
Don Quixote goes down the path in the wilderness groping the way
stepping on the dead leaves carrying the weight of the sitting sun
that is too much for him to carry on his crooked back.
Although he once mounted a horseback high with stately air
holding a spear under his arm, spurring a horse on to gallop freely
through the wilderness sweeping all obstacles away with the spear,
now he goes through the wilderness hanging on his useless broken spear stick.
Since Sancho Panza is no longer with him, he is a disgraced knight
without an obedient servant; since Rozinante is not with him any more,
he is a dishonored knight without a trusty steed.
And I go with my seedy shadow laid under his pathetic shadow
that moves awkwardly in the red of the setting sun.
what if every life
was part of a life lived
not just re-encarnation
but something from every life gived
what if we were all Jews
priest of God something God used
once enslaved and often abused
what if one of our souls
were once a Jew
what if we were a child abused
with no chance of living
and painfully misused
to leave this earth
without hope and confused
what if this soul
was a soul God used
what if we were slaves
with a nation to build
plantations and pyramides
or else be killed
what if our lot was part of this plot
and our soul given
to the life of locks
what if our soul was given to war
not to die but relive the horror
not only to kill but have friends killed
to return home disfigured dishonored
and still
to love your country
and your country that love kill
and live with the regret that
your lifes blood was not spilled
what if your life was of a man misused
or even that of a wife abused
with one individual
the cause of your hell
year after year under their spell
no one to hear the screams you yelled
until that day you finally fell
what if you spent your life searching for God.
but you can't see him and to you it's odd.
everyone seems to have a piece of this dream
but to you no shread of evidence was ever seen
hopes die as loved ones go
dispared of life that has no soul
to what purpose was this wicked goal
to give you life without a soul
what if you have a destiny
purposed by God
and what if death be our end
as God gives the nod
then destiny arrives as death resurected
destroying the lies and misdirected
supplying the hope and condeming the greed
waste is our possesion
when we have more than we need
this is the vision that destiny see's
the happiness of heaven
and not earthly greed
what if every life addressed a cause
a time for action no time for pause
what if we knew of every kind of pain
what could we better if we had this gain
an end to all suffering that has a name
an end to all the guilty that play
evil games
Leggings cuddle my thick thighs
Making me feel so contented
With the chubbiness I feel inside
When I go to try on my wardrobe
Leggings bring me to peace with myself
When I would be dishonored by jeans
They feel so soft and willing to bend
That I love them like I never could believe
Leggings caress my legs with their knits
Leaving me room to twist around and sit
Letting me know that I have the curves
To fill up my leggings with pure chubbiness
Leggings remind me just why I can feel
Assured that I still have a little sex appeal
They tighten around me just enough to reveal
The curve of my thighs and calves fascination
Leggings are the best part of my apparel
They leave me with a feeling of appreciation
Let me breathe freely and feel the open air
With a sense of self-expression alive for dancing
LOST TO THE WIND
I yearned for you when pearly passion flowed
You leaned on me silent when day ended.
On shrubs, warm glow glistened as glow worm glowed.
Dusty dusk in dark veil as eve faded.
Starry sky with torn clouds partly shaded.
I looked to your eyes with thirsty desire.
Your reticent glance turned my world entire.
Ardent ardor was dishonored and ruined.
Yet my allure persists, still I admire.
But lavender love is lost to the wind.
08/12/20
Re edited on 03/12/23
You Say
Contest by Brian Strand
I grew up a white boy in suburban Ohio. My parents both worked,
we had a nice house…I played on a little league team.
Yes, growing up in Ohio….I was sure we were living the American Dream.
Back then I thought the Dream was accessible to everyone in the country we live in….
It wasn’t until year laters I realized the American Dream was much easier for me
because of the color of my skin.
The roots of the American Dream can be found in our Declaration of Independence
right their in black and white it is expressed
How everyone is created equal, all endowed with inalienable rights
that among these rights are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
It wasn’t until I was older…the hypocrisy I started seeing…
when I learned the man who wrote those inspiring words…
himself… owned human beings.
Nonetheless his uplifting words famously became his contribution
to the independence of our country…and the cornerstone of our constitution.
In our constitution his words were interpreted to mean
we will work as equals……through conflicts, controversies and strife….
so every person regardless of their background will have the freedom and opportunity
to succeed and attain a better, richer, and fuller life.
But it has never really worked that way…say…for the Native Americans,
people of color, if you are gay or lesbian or trans….
when people in power ignore our constitution…when they have other plans.
For now I know when they spoke of inalienable rights they were being disingenuous…
that the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are delicate and tenuous.
That the constitution…which I thought was a guide to what this country dreamed to be
a road map that has provided my life with many an opportunity…
has not been as fair and just for people who do not look or worship or act like me.
For years their freedoms and opportunities have been dishonored and ignored
So much so that is seems…they don’ t have any!
so how can we call it the American Dream…
when it’s been an American Nightmare for so many.
DEAR HEART
Dear Heart :
Majestic Heart,
Precious part of my pristine persona
in angelic arena.
You are famished hankering for love,
but you must try to curb.
With innate innocence
and earnest ebullience
You can neither differentiate
nor discriminate
between devotion
and dissimulation.
Dear Heart:
Humble Heart,
You dedicate your ardent ardour
floating in fervent fervour
cascading desired dreams
in opulent stream
to dry up in silent scream.
Dear Heart:
Delicate Heart,
Restrain yourself.
Don't allow to escape
Your yearnings to soar high
tempting for free fly
to get trapped with wounded weary wings
carrying contorted dishonored feelings.
Poor Heart:
You are hurt.
Dear Heart:
Holy Heart,
Your preserved pleasures
and reserved treasures
are destined to be left on dirt,
on path of life ending in dust.
01/30/23
Dear Heart
Eighth place
Premiere Contest by Mystic Rose Rose.
Contest by Brian Strand
I remember the day I was invited
By the guys from "El Conejo" Ranch in Columbus, Ohio (USA)
To participate in the thousand and one orgasms
That a certain Erin, a resident whore, was going to receive
Who was very hot
So that I could reach the bar that was at nine hundred
Achieved by a different whore.
I wanted to prepare myself and go well
Like a real man
That's why I invited a couple of friends
To the "Zafiro" motel-brothel in Burgos
So they could give their opinion on me
If I was in good shape.
They both slept with whores
I couldn't please mine
Nor dishonor her dishonored a thousand times over.
She laughed at my
And stuck her tongue out at me.
As I told her while I was trying to her
That I was going to Ohio, Columbus (USA)
To have sex with a renowned whore
She burst out laughing, mocking me, saying:
-But where are you going, you simpleton
With this mini trebuchet, this little slingshot
This sperm-launcher
To besiege a Mount of Venus
Of a used whore?
Your is like Greek fire
That sets the besieged ablaze
And only shoots white balls of sperm
That break into a thousand pieces
When they hit the lips.
I'm telling you the truth:
-Forget about going to Ohio, Columbus (USA)
Because you're not going to pass the test
Because you're not the right size.
But you can come see me whenever you want
Because my enjoys you
And I won't charge you more than the cost of a drink.
If I didn't start crying
It's because my two friends came over
Seeing me already dressed
With the face of a defeated and submissive man.
Seeing me in such a sad state, they asked me:
-But how did it go?
-Badly, I answered.
I decided not to go to Ohio
Because I'm not good enough to sleep with
A beautiful and renowned whore.
Look at my little trebuchet, my little trebuchet
That serves as my witness
And this whore I've been with
With her eyes has been witness
That I'm not good enough
And she's the one who convinced me.
In the coldness of the moment
My two friends shuddered
Starting to cry with me
Because my little trebuchet sad and faded
Couldn't water flowers or lilies
And much less a renowned pussy.
Meanwhile, in the background
The whore I'd been with was smiling
Because she'd tasted the scent of the bud
Without having swallowed it.
I was contacted months ago by a person named Lauren Godly. She's a media student, and she asked me if she could turn my poem, Adored to Abhorred into a video. It's finally been completed. It's such a wonderful feeling when you know that your poetry can help make a difference.
Adored to Abhorred
from owned to dethroned
you led me
from queen to unseen
you hid me
once crowned to now bound
you kept me
absorbed to derobed
you left me
a spectacle to be gawked at
you jeered me
from diamond to dust
you threw me
once devoid of lust
you spurned me
and yet, here I am
naked
bleeding
dishonored
unwanted
here I stand
here I smile
biding my time a while
knowing as I do
the inner splendor shines through
I bathe my naked body
perfume every curve
comb out my raven hair
for I dare
This is swear:
None can usurp my throne
It's mine and mine alone
I climb the stairs
and they all stare
yes, they stare
so aware
the Queen has returned
your history’s been burned
I'm here
more beautiful than before
radiance galore
I see you
with flames of desire
once more in your eyes
you...watch me.....R^I^S^E
my glory emanates through
every idol set up by you
adoration's MY due
It is true:
discarded to lauded
I taunt you
demeaned to re-queened
I rule you
I reign, I disdain
don't be vain
your plea to return
I will burn
spurn
I'll watch you yearn
you can't take me back
I know what you lack
a heart and a soul
I won’t make you whole
Knighted to blighted
I see you
And so….
adored to abhorred
I leave you
Eileen Manassian Ghali