Long Disowning Poems

Long Disowning Poems. Below are the most popular long Disowning by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Disowning poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member I'M No Longer a Deplorable

I’m no longer a deplorable
Somehow become a fascist
At least according to those who claim
That all of us are all the same

Except, that is, the chosen few
Who really know what’s best for you
Spend your money without thanks
Lock up the sober in drunk tanks

Some claim their states are RED or BLUE
Thus, disowning half of you
Yet my mailbox is at full bloat
Beggars pleading for my vote

I dare not raise the flag too high
As passersby, offended, sigh
And wish it hidden out of sight
Its shadowed haven now a blight

I’ve never been deplorable
One time was thought – adorable
I shed a tear at Taps sad drone
For a flag that bravely flies alone


John G. Lawless
©10/2/2022
Form: Verse


Premium Member Never Let Me Go

NEVER LET ME GO
     
      Joint journey juncture juxtaposed.
       Pondered, planned, promised to pursue in peace and patience.
        Incidentally if I infatuate or induce indifference,
         No negative notion: Neither ‘No’ nor ‘Nope’.
         Once I lost lavender love and now shining sparkling like cynosure.
           My ardent ardour, amour in glamour now to glitter.

          Value our valiant venture vanquishing vanity and variance.
          Luminous love lightens laden life not to lose liking.
        Allure, attract, admire me to adore you.
      Darling! Don’t deviate or distract disowning me.
     Never let me go but to glow gorgeous glistening in glory.  
   Let your firm faith flow flashing fervid fervent flame.
      

    03/31/19          
                     Fourth place
 'Pick up a Title'  Vol 3. Alliteration Contest by Edward Ibeh 

  ' My Lost and Found Love'

    Contest by JCB Brul

Premium Member Shavous, True To Us

Shavous, True to Us
Rosh Hashanah of Fruits,
Literally, When Tree Fruit Blossoms,
Figuratively, Free Do-It Creativitus,
Earth was Created for Man's,
Improvement by Applicus,
Of Torah Chiddush Wisdoms!
1st 2,000 Years were Barren "Tohu"-ous,
Post Har Sinai, Inventous Peoples' Brainstorms,
Thus, Mortals, Sans Angels, Torah "Safeguardous",
Since Only Man Could Mind Contradictions,
Possible True Welfare, Wedding Any Multiple Versus,
Rambam's "Shalom Emes": Torah in Stark Distinction,
To Other Beliefs' Messages to Us,
To Wit, Feelings Define Right Action,
By Contrast to Absolute "True or Falsous",
Over & Over, the "Nachas", Cunning Deception,
Pulling the Wool Over the Righteous!

Shavous, also Rosh Hashanah of Learning,
Judgment on Next Year's Acquiring Torah,
Thus, Instead of Flailing, Earning,
Internalizing in that We "Soar-ah",
Satisfying Wings Earnest Yearning,
By Disowning Olam HaZeh Mesorah,
Of Narashkeit Replaced by The Discerning,
Taryag Sensitivities, the Infinite Aura,
Held Back Since Creation's Beginning,
Antidote to Amelek, A "What Ails Cure-a",
Elevating Our Commitment is like Lightning,
Flash Flaming a Gourmet Flambé Endura!
Form: Rhyme

Count To Ten

a sestina

To every zephyr comes a bold quest
and every squall can whisper regret.
Those who will take the deeper breath
are those who gain a discerning spirit. 
The eye of a storm loves the calm
while the vortex lives for the clash.

When two people sense a coming clash
because they’re on a divergent quest.
One may keep peace, remaining calm
while the other shows no regret
for baring an ornery spirit -
hell-bent, ranting with “baited” breath.

The pacifist, holding his breath,
prefers to downscale any clash
disowning the negative spirit.
The personality of quest
depends on one’s view of regret.
Cold is how the gutsy perceive calm.

Some get uptight when life is too calm;
conflict leaves another gasping for breath.
Satisfaction versus regret -
can both be balanced without clash?
Is there a more productive quest 
for passive and proactive spirits?

With open mind, the hostile spirit
can work at finding a sense of calm.
When threatened with a thorny request,
count to ten and take a deep breath.
At the invitation to clash,
do not attend; send your regrets.

If you are one who shrinks from regret
confronting an in-your-face spirit,
do not forgo the challenging clash.
Count to ten; dismantle your normal calm
and debate ‘til you’re out-of-breath.
Learn the thrill of making the conquest. 


Sometimes in regret, I answer with calm,
then try a raw spirit with weighted breath.
Peace reigns both in clash and a quieter quest. 

June 7, 2014

contest:  What brings you peace
hostess:  Chantelle Cooke
Form: Sestina

Brevette Humor

Wolf
                 setting
                  trap

                  Crazy
                  spitting
                  powder

                 Joe
                spewing
                  beast

                  goatling
                 disowning
                  goat

                  politics
                 kicking
                 politics

                  bandit
                  dictating
                  rule

                  Boss
                  savoring
                   delicacy

                    people
                    eating
                     crap...!


Who Am I

I knew my ancestry and my dad was a joiner,
But verged on disowning my mum for labour,
Not married in history yet throbbing with spark, 
Love, truth, kindness fibered the gelled dark.

A stunner - intelligent, muscular but sensitive,
The royal in me saw the people as plaintiff,
As steering the vile lark of determining troughs, 
In a grass-roots democracy to nullify the toffs.

Prolific at speeches, education never lacked,
Peeking as child into the ear in discern I jacked,
I knew nothing was unproven, cleanliness won,
Joules inside quenched the human sown son.

In the health profession I beamed, overcame, won, 
Differences waged exacted to desecrate the sum -
Poor, minority, stealthy and dragon ignored asunder,
No equality known to hook the solid, base shelter.

Mobile, but wherever I tread met haters and lovers,
Pranced about suckered by vulgar ruling bearers;
Taught children life and followers’ carers’ quick,
Stead ahead hailed by the people as their wick.

Freedom held my blink until shown as the trait -
Real by weight for the sick to crop myself as bait.
Therefore human aim, space, time shouted ball,
‘Cos the individual is right, by the pinnacle, wall.

My twelve friends accepted my way and my mind,
Chose to love crook, crank or by altruism behind,
Meant rear - banned and ashore, but fully sentient, 
No restorative, candid deeds to strike ambivalent.

People glued came to see me - the Nile drawn,
Dealt troubles without ways n’ routes to spawn;
Yet state and common folks both, themselves, 
Killed me for a movement shooting with shelves.

But those many who loved me would never forget,
Forged sail by the integral identity never truly set:
They said afterwards that my substance, way, holds,
It’s life that affords me, not the shined, bold folds.

There was a court case and everything, a slot,
When they asked if I was a god, king, mad, a shot:
Dumb. Bitter I’d gone and cut short, they said I’d live,
Within them in their memory as the cultural give.

My existence is not a point - your location, for always:
It’s not belief in me that matters but it's your sways;
Your life is important and it's your existence that calls,
MLK, Lincoln, Walker ball for the sentient, rugged stalls. 

Who am I?
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Duck

Made a beautiful silky bow collar, 
for his little skinny neck 
So we can go for a walk, 
sneaked out the back gate 
walking around to the front 
All the kids were amazed, 
dancing skipping for joy, 
they all wanted a pet duck. 

Thinking to myself, 
make a clean fortune selling ducks, 
around the neighbourhood 
I never laughed so much, 
in fact the sides were splitting, 
the kids actually thought he was funny 
wabbling along with his color bow. 
He was a comical site quacking 

They loved him, 
shouting can we get a pet duck, 
the plan is working I thought 
Squealing with joy and glee 
Then the woman I was with at the time 
Cried and moaned, 
created a whole scene, 
gave out like mad. 

Shouting all the neighbors are chatting 
Yeah chatting about you, 
ha ha I laughed driving her totally insane, 
saying I was mad in the head, 
I didn't really care what they say, 
buying a kid a duck for his birthday 

Poor little duck she's disowning you, 
so you don't want the duck, 
I said to her 
It was all your idea 
in the first place 
sure the young fellow cried for the duck, 

might of known 
I would get blamed, 
someone was giving away ducks 
Just happened to mentions a duck, 
you said ok 
All excited with the kids 

Past tense 
the scorpion who struck 
biting me on the back 
Giving me the bad blood, 
ill give them something to talk about 
The only reason 
the neighbours 
had dogs and cats, 
they bite 

A duck so what, 
poor little creature, 
are they afraid 
to be dabbed to death 
Ended up giving him to my father, 

she panicked afraid of gossip ha ha 
The first in the area to have a pet duck ha 
More than could be said for some 
Sure they copy everyone else, 
I am different 
Do not care what people say 

All the kids loved him, 
a pity about the old dragon 
My father still has him years later 
He is getting old and grey 
Looked after him like royalty 

Following around after him like a dog 
This is the story of my pet 
Now my dad and the duck 
he is the happiest 
duck alive

Premium Member Trickster

Trickster, it's crystal clear you profess to
                                 claim your innocence of being ethical and
                                  loyal. yet on the other hand many red flags
                                  revealed your inconsistencies. Trickster 
                                   unobservant you pulled evidence from your
                                  pockets unaware like a magician pulling the
                                  evidence like a rabbit out of a hat. Trickster,
                                  you incessantly elude to accept the truth, you're
                                  unhealed actions may be something from past
                                  events that seem to imprison your mind.
  
                                 Trickster no I'm not delusional to convince me
                                  I'm clueless and continually disowning the truth.
 
                                  Trickster why are the constant hollering and screaming
                                  for the courses of action you created.

Debt Is a Theft

Debt,born to the debtor and the creditor,
It's a test of intelligence-
Bridges the banks of income and outgoing,
The debts happen in air,
But the theft in camera,
Disowning the owning happens in air and camera,
Debts,debts and debts! in this planet of chocolates!
To deal in debt,networks work in uniforms,
Theft also a network working in many forms,
The rules governing debts count Seven,
It rules the in-debtor comes number one,
Debt is a net,
All, not know the net not know the way out,
In debt default is an act of violence,
It's not because the letter "B" going silence,
In the books of bad debts,no one is in the good books,
Debts become bad debts because the debt is bad,
Debts create more debts,a study in commerce,
Debts put in more debts is the subject of the universe,

Go rich but debt free!

Cliche

Is that your name?
Do you want to call it grotesque fame?
Is it truly there?
Or it is floating in thin air? 

Can you grasp it with your tiny hands?
Is anyone there from your chosen land?
Do you wish to call it by your name?
Hasn't it arrived yet? Or it is just another game? 

The compilation you hesitate to conclude,
You aspire to present it as your finest, dude.
Nobody can live long with this gruesome win,
Is it your another committed sin? 

Your fame is quite a cliche,
Everybody wants it to be their greatest niche.
Your utmost blessings are your most disastrous curses,
You are disowning your indispensable circles. 

Is it truly a blessing or just a curse?
Nobody can blame others they cannot trust.
Is it on the brink of possessing an innocent soul?
Or is it just a snowball rolling around without any resolute goal?
Form: Rhyme

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