Long Doctored Poems
Long Doctored Poems. Below are the most popular long Doctored by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Doctored poems by poem length and keyword.
In my heart I know I was right
for believing in her for so long
while every one was telling me
that loving her was so wrong
but the distance between us
just made me love her more
and instead of making me weak
it made me stronger than before
my family and friends keep saying
that online love isn't real" its just virtual
and that I need to feel someone breathe
hold them close and get physical
my friend's said that I am a fool
being faithful to a girl I never met
they says "man what she don't know
wont hurt "so you got nothing to regret
but that is not what I think of love
so keep your stupid advice guys
my lonely heart will wait for her
as long as there're stars in the skies
true love knows no distance
age or color and race
true love is about the heart and soul
not about the among of make up on the face
the beauty of love can makes you blush
it can also makes you cry
it can also hurt you so much
you swear that you are going to die
missing the one you love
don't ever goes out of season
it will hurt and hurt and hurt
although you never meet them in person
but you know in your lonely heart
they are all that matters in the world
for you feel god created them for you
and then throw away the mold
the girl that owns my heart
I've never held her close to my chest
feel her breath ,smells her fragrance
touch her hair and or feel her caress
and I don't know what she's in real
because pictures can be doctored to lie
and I really don't care about what I will meet
I love her with all my heart till the day I die
friends said to me" what if she don't like you
what if she thinks you're ugly
what if you if you wasted all this time
and it turns out to be just a fantasy
yes that could turn out be true
I wont denied the thought never cross my mind
and loving some one so much
does makes your judgments blind
but its a chance I will gladly take
as long as there's stars above
and I don't care what happens
I finally felt what's its like to truly fall in love
and I will always be faithful to her
for as long as forever will take's
I would wait and wait for the day we meet
no matter how much my lonely heart breaks
Imperial rose,
surrender not
embattled warrior
her temple protect,
enhanced by her love
queen of heaven,
star of the sea
the divine one,
spiritual committment,
evangalist free
where there is question-
there is doubt-
constructed mainly
of myth
fanatic madman
conceal truth
mad man made lies-
peppered the globe
"the sacrificed" holy war
Were you not the
true God - direct discendant
a madmans' disdain -
giver of life-not killer
this strong belief deep
spiritual inner
Jealousy, runs' rife
woman born with intuition
blessed diligently
barer of life
religious "madman"
"unholy fanatic"
artificial stimulant
(weapons) his choice...
stand over tactics
ruination of families
incapable performer...
...many no longer rejoice...
women leave you in droves
in search of safe happy homes
Roman imperial
blatant crusader
claim "holy war"-
Roman tyrant
man of violent mind-
perverse corrupt
time, power reduced discipline
church decree enforced sin
wrongful authority
mass destruction-
Mary-this religion
medieval sexism
the owl waits
these christian bigots
bend with hell
separate fact from fiction
sinners' truth unseen...
legend or story whenever
told, too dangerous to
reveal truth-
past soon align with future
mad man is edens beast
punnish woman for sexual
acts-
mad man weaker sex-
vile tormenter
these mad men
do not themselves
repent
global "nut jobs"
with out resolve
mad man jealous of women?
Mary, Jesus's favourite
disciple-peacemaker
inherit the earth
Jesus acknowledged
her self worth married-
or not,...
church incestial perverse
priesthood a crock
scriptures doctored
catholic lies
sinners in church hide
the question begs
men and woman
can they ever
be real partners?
sexual disasters?
while this truth? is
unclear, remains a
world alert-aware
unfounded unity
corruption too vile
history-angel
unforgiving self destroy
herstory yet to be revealed
the peices are fitting
mad man ruination, rulers of
nothing complete-
incomplete...
...this world crumbling...
...and all true love retreats...
And when it ends suddenly, unexpectedly,
You start to count.
First on the days, then the hours - then
Just counting until 100
Then
Beginning again.
The dead find their faces
The living count faces
Then most forget
Unless the face has your DNA in it,
But you remember the body bags
Being moved around in the night,
The nurses crying,
The lies being spread,
The excuses,
The obfuscation,
The blundering incompetence
Of bureaucracy and officialdom.
The elderly kept in deathcamps
that used to be nursing homes.
The grinning mayors
And governors.
It’s going away now.
Less and less each day.
It’s going away now
It’s going to a place
Where the living cannot find it
It’s going away now.
And suddenly you are very angry
About the stupid shut-ins and the shut-downs,
The politicization of tragedy.
The muddled and slanted statistics
The ridiculous projections,
The false data.
The contradictions and bluster.
The draconian regulatory and government
Sponsored power grabs.
The gagging and intimidation
Of workers.
The trashing of basic freedoms
People
Jailed,
Fined,
Harassed.
The banning's.
The right to collectively worship denied,
Peaceful protest denied.
Businesses forced into bankruptcy.
The unemployment
The waste.
And destruction.
The sundering of families,
The needless school closures,
The suffering that led
To clinical depression and drug overdoses,
The disdain of those
Who rejected commonsense remedies.
The manipulations
And machinations,
All the willing useful fools
Chorusing together to tread down
Democracy.
The grinning talking heads
Who doctored the news.
The attacks and the cancelling
Of those who begged to differ.
Dissenters labeled conspiracy theorists.
The cover-ups:
Gain of function.
GAIN OF FUNCTION.
The dumb mantra of the ignorant
Demanding we 'follow the science'
But the science was wrong
The scientists lied
They lied.
They all knew
AND THEY LIED!
And I am still counting
In case it returns
And I have a lot more things to count,
Lots more to tally and be made
ACCOUNTABLE.
Back when times were tough, and was doctored up, I should have made positivity my business. Instead of not acting right, should have stopped the foolishness, stopped the fighting, and started too look around be gracious. My nature became missing holidays and birthdays. You just cannot have life both ways because either your broke and miserable or happy and paid. It was time to shed his negativity, and put on smile. There were too many nights in cells and days chased by trials. Life has passed by too quickly, and finally chose to spend it laughing and joking then laying around sickly. Not telling anyone how it is now, but once you give so much away to nothing taking on the heart of a champion really starts to seem like something. Realizing how life starts to pick and choose, I stare at those who were there for me, and I know I can’t ever lose. This is not just some message to try to tell anyone how to run their life. I just want to get out word life goes on in a simpler way, each an everyday, so always know where you come from and who you are..
It’s not a secret back when I took on the persona of a villain, all of the people I cared for faded away, and achievements looked higher than the ceiling. Life is what you make of it, either it can be great or one big mess. Living life the right way just doesn’t seem to come as natural when you’re growing up. As you get older the curtain seem to start to close, and you’re starting to want to be more appreciated, than being faded. Loyalty can become a factor, and lies take form you become a great actor. Partying every weekend because I wasn’t popular. I just couldn’t ignore them, all the pressures, I fell for it. Living pay check to pay check made things dicey, and humiliation started to take form as things got pricey. My mug shot on the news did not help, it just made me want more of the high life. I no longer care what they say, and it is always family first now. I no longer am out to just get mine, and even if life gets harder I know everything will be just fine because putting partying to bed means I made it. Like a great psychological film, life has become fascinating.
I used to write like
Jack Kerouac.
Words
crumbling down
paper.
Stark thoughts
marked
by dots
and dashes.
Flashes of schoolyard brilliance
The hill I would
climb over
to be
someone different.
I never saw life
through a dot.
LSD.
My father
was on mushrooms,
when he and my mother
created me.
Psychedelic sperm
meets
bitter weed
infested ovum.
BANGED
into existence.
Transient spirit
sloughing off
afterbirth long
after I hit
the cold.
I have chased
paper
ever since.
Dipping my bones
in ink.
To paint a
masterpiece
of you.
Broken, homeless, loveless,
privileged, safe, warm,
sheltered, shattered
reconstructed.
All in a backdrop
of perfection.
An abundant Earth
housing an
ungrateful patient.
Most of us,
doctored
unconscious
sedated.
Waiting for
something
to wake us
up.
My own words
often
broken and
falling off.
Leaving only
snapshots.
I get ties and
sketches
along the
road.
I would bargain
my dreams
for pious acceptance
and my revelations
for wicked
indulgent
self
flagellation.
I have been
bound to my
vision
of exclusion
behind an
iron fence of
history.
Trapped
in pages.
Tapped and
wasted.
I used to write
as if I didn't
I would die.
On my knees
shattered
under
that perfect
silent sky.
Head bowed
shoulders cowed
frail and pasty.
Screaming
raging
breaking pages
with my pen.
Attempting to bring
black and white
to color.
Now I write,
because
I die.
A thousand times
with you.
Its glorious!
Over your
unfinished portraits.
Your shortcuts
your detours
your ache
your lust,
and your mindless
wandering.
Beautiful
and championed.
I pray to make
my prose like
a Sistine Chapel
after all,
you deserve
it!
Only to fall
very far from
grace.
At the
Inadequacy
I have
at coloring
your face.
I used to write
like Jack Kerouac,
jotting a shot
of you
in between
heaven.
But I figured out
that I would
rather capture
my own
splinter.
And be satisfied with
a sliver of you,
than die like him
at forty-seven.
I had 800 hits on my site just last Friday
But twenty-nine poems reported as read!
So, I wonder what message was really intended,
My verse that explosive in somebody's head?
In years past PH (1) friend who was also a poet,
Egyptian named Merov (who knows, what is true?)
Well, he promised to put me on top of the ratings,
I told him, "No thank you!" what else could I do?
The best poets should rise if it's fate with their muses,
Just one of its flaws that few folks here discern,
But at PH the staff treat all poets like children,
They stop with the basics, play games, and aid spurn!
The real key to high ratings on PH is social,
“I’ll comment and rate yours (if you do the same!)”
Though our poems innocuous both get high ratings
That pull in more readers (you all know your name!)
Heartfelt comments I think are the best one can hope for
A ten out of ten may sound good but says less,
Any fool can give 'tens,' but a friend shares their feelings
Some barter for fame that no heart would confess!
Is it right to deny poets power to format,
To place words on pages as muse tells them to?
E. E. Cummings dismissed as a bull in a tea shop,
And all free-form verse relegated to zoo?
So was Merov the troll that once doctored friend's ratings?
Still, website's designed so a fool can deface? (2)
Just use multiple names, for there's no adult checking,
Then play with your site, let sick pride map your space!
Brian Johnston
14th of October 2018
Poet's Notes:
(1) PH stands for the PoemHunter.com website where I also publish my work. The criticism of formating problems also applies to PoetrySoup! I am grateful that PoetrySoup dropped numerical grading some time back. But I think for PoetrySoup to have a most read poem feature that included the sites most popular poems would be nice!
(2) Again just on PoemHunter you can create multiple login ID's which allows you to give yourself fake poem scores and to comment your own poetry. Again PoetrySoup wisely avoids such problems with a minimal charge! Restrictions here on comment space are the worst "Feature!"
Here my story begins,
here I stand,
facing the world all alone;
It all began with one lady he ladied,
One boy she boyded and sugared,
Just to finish in the net of Mr. Death.
Hah!
How painful it is,
How hurt it is for the poor boy.
Meanwhile he stood by their graves,
Mourning and weeping,
Cursing the world,
And doubting the Lord His God,
Having no one to shade the tears with,
To neither sympathize nor comfort.
The community sad pointing accusing fingers here and there,
Blaming the uncle and aunt,
Speaking of nothing other than slow poison and witch craft,
One after the other murmured in his belly,
Pasting sympathious faces,
But ignoring the happened,
Few weeks after the happened,
Came Doctor Okiriki James,
Native of the community, son of the soil
HIV/AIDS is a reality,
Make your HIV/AIDS test
In order to know your status,
Those were his words
As he moved round the village,
Whispering on his karaka bicycle;
It was spoken by men, women and children
Sand as many times as possible
Over the radio and shown on the T.V.
With the ingenuous aid
Of Doctor Okiriki James,
The orphan went in for an HIV/AIDS test.
Hellas!
You are HIV positive,
But that’s not the end of life.
With this status
You are still capable of doing
A lot of things…
Yes,
Words of comfort
And advice,
What have I done to deserve all these?
What curse?
In which world am I found?
The poor boy questioned,
Murmured
And doubted the future,
If only his parents knew,
If only he knew and talked to them,
If only,
Doctor he doctored,
Son the doctor answered,
What should I do?
First you have to know there is no cure for HIV/AIDS,
But you can take anti-retro viral drugs
To slow down its destruction of the immune system,
Take good care of your self,
Eat well, especially fruits
For the body needs them.
Don’t get into
Any unprotected sex with any one
And don’t expose objects stained with your blood.
Doctor he doctored again,
Thanks very much,
I have heard you and I will do as you say...
Since Covid emerged upon the scene…from the moment the virus Gods begot it….
Deborah and I were thankful, relieved and extremely proud…never to have caught it!
We vaccinated and prayed to every God… to the sun, the stars the moon…
and as we watched friends and family succumb to it..we thought, perhaps, we were immune.
But the other day Deborah and I tested positive for Covid…it literally came out of thin air
and those dreams we had of immunity….it seems Covid did not care!
We tried to reason with Covid… “You don’t understand…we did everything right.” we said.
But there’s no reasoning with a virus and we spent the next three days in bed.
Because Covid did what Covid does…engulfing her diseased arms around us…
isolating us from one another…and from the world around us.
Somewhere in the fog of Covid…no matter how positively we tried to view it…
we began to wonder to ourselves…if we’d ever make it through it!
But as we fell in and out of sleep…never fully happy…or content….
we’d receive from our friends and family notes of love and encouragement.
These notes would end up on our phones…literally appearing out of thin air….
It made Covid a little more bearable…knowing people we love care.
There is no cure for a virus…we did what doctors and experts think best
we drank plenty of liquids…and we got a lot of rest…
It was anything but easy…there were times we didn’t know night from day…
but once it’s was done tearing our bodies apart…it eventually faded away.
And now that Covid’s fading and we’re thankful we survived
the two of us would like it to be known….
What helped us smile through the pain and suffering
were those messages on our phones…
It’s amazing how those simple acts of love…so innocent and pure
those little notes of encouragement…made this virus easier to endure.
So here’s my un-doctored prescription for surviving Covid
from experience…it’s the one I’m thinking of…
Drink plenty of liquids…get a lot of rest…
and surround yourself with love.
Fast as an atomic banshee, he roils sacred halls
of White House clutches levers with brass balls
American powers remain unrestrained when he calls
Armada to exorcise imagine aery dragons,
he inarticulately falls
non-communicative, faux eruditely generative,
and heartily galls
toward this introspective kickstarter male,
and most likely others he appalls.
-------------------------------------------------
My inner guru hankers to share voice
amidst increasing din
and clamors in reaction to insidious machinations fin
hushed via Machiavellian offal prince,
who unleashes clout with Cheshire grin
unconcerned about population, chaste,
from their wells Fargo wing.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Most every citizen banker, and kin
stared down vis a vis fierce-some intimations
catapult escalating, spin
laughing at rigged voting outlook
gratefully inflicts populace with monstrous win
doomsday soldiers -
art of the deal book not writ by said urchin.
-------------------------------------------------
Though regularly affiliated with top notch
kudos to virtual soapbox platform
re: all poetry to express Bing averse
toward ill feted Barron settlement
of United States government tossed like scotch
on thar hocks, thus an uneasy angst
also invisibly grabs me by the crotch
cuz das Trump power monger,
I fear rubric of democracy, he will botch!
-------------------------------------------------
This poem alternately titled -
harbinger of political debacle wolf find antipode
where toxic brew at crack of 12 a.m.
January 20th 2017 doth bode
doctored pregnant swollen tidal anarchistic military toad
deeds sheepishly shape into battalions
in tandem - fraternal order of police erode
Civilian protesters unite with ordinary citizen bankers
crowdsource sing metallic ca clash to goad
Form:
Or Woman, Or Child, Or...
The following elucidated
conjecture actually can
(reed best) be taken with a grain
of salt, and no re ban
nah nah split 'ope ya 'ere me
cloud and lear, cuz (Oh my...
heavens to Betsy), ennui
got pulled by Evan -
Jewel Lean, who handed this long fellow
(wads worth to you)
speculation with fan
see prestidigitation legerdemain - tan
ta mount to cheap tricks
re: out of thin air
by this half
fast hue man,
Hill Billy Willy Wonka Nilly,
who blithely doth asseverate
apothegm (poem title) equally applicable
Century21 today Aswan
damn maxim initially
bespoke, when collective
primates begat enfant terrible
foo fighting predetermining anon
metastasizing debacle Yeti
bedeviling civilization
a bajillion years in the future with
Matthew Scott Harris deadpan
words worth less his way
before even an odd iota
of dire straight sultan
of swing didst merely span
spottily scattered amidst
pristine Earth, where
unchanging arboreal
beastie boys to oman,
and flock of sea gulls
continuity elapsed – Ivan
hunch, albeit un
recorded disc contented sow
sow hogtied pan
dum mo' nee ham, or
blessed historical events,
kept (stay'n) alive,
courtesy"FAKE" Trump
petting Dapper Dan,
where he knit pattern,
qua oral tradition, sans clan
destine scattered hot pockets
of sparse *****sapiens,
i.e. humanity LESS preponderant,
primary, and/or prolific,
where superstitions parlayed
(voodoo with no Fran Schwa),
and whirling dervishes fed elan,
which earliest recorded (doctored,
digitized, and demented
oh yea), not
tomb mitt to dimly mentioned
asper "time and tide
wait for no man"
purportedly by one
Saint Marher, circa:
1225 anno domini.