Long Doping Poems
Long Doping Poems. Below are the most popular long Doping by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Doping poems by poem length and keyword.
Tag words: advertising, bebop, bird, bottle, Charlie
Parker, Coca-Cola, Cole Porter, Dizzy Gillespie,
door, flag, heart, jazz, light bulb, Louis Armstrong,
Miles Davis, palette, Pepsi Cola, pluralism – found
object, retablo painting, sculpture
Arbitrary or subconscious, Saunders picked six.
Man created on the sixth day from darkness;
we came into the light, of knowing, of naming.
Satan, sin held within, black of skin. Oh,
Africa chopped up bleeding, the third world’s
doors shown black, nailed shut. With the skin
of drums, the heel of hand, he pounds the nails
on the trail of the carpenter.
Kept in place, biblical wives of Lot turned to salt,
white-line the globe. White powder, white power,
sugars the unpalpable, addicting, coca leafs and
caffeine, doping the public, the poor for dimes.
Reinforcing the lure of the bottle; the cola bottle
that fell unbroken to earth from the sky in The
God’s Must Be Crazy. Some have always used their
addictions to create. Like a found objects, we too
fall calling to Mother Mary.
After: The Gift of Presence Raymond Saunders 1993
First Published by Ekphrastic Art:writing and art on art and writing
*Lot the nephew of Abraham, husband of Edith
who was turned to salt.
"It was a beautiful whore of a day", he reasoned, "maybe she will have even less on !"
The little band of misfits garnered the stares of mall patrons as they ran as fast as their puppet legs could manage, (without being high on a coke/steroid cocktail, called a Dynobowl). (There was also blood doping, which consisted of shooting up minute amounts of plasma), but they had no time for bloodsport. They were gonna be a bloodspurt, if Michael caught up to them and with his Tri-Lam athletics background that would happen sooner than later. They needed "a plan" and fast !
Kenny the drug dealer and Silky the 44th street pimp looked around for contacts, as did Penney, it was instinct. There had to be a "John or a hoodlum" there somewhere, after all, it was the mall. A family place for shopping,
pictures, waves to friends and tight lipped hookers (if they knew what was good for them). Then there was a place to sit and eat where Mom and Dad could argue in front of the entire mall. Johnny could show under the table to Lucy what he stole and she could show what she stole. Whomever had the biggest total (in cost!) wins. However, a belt made out of the "booty" automatically added five points. What? Those are the rules, (I didn't invent them).
Form:
There are users, abusers
And bitter accusers
In the World of negative thought
There are legalistic, ballistic
And increasingly sadistic
In the World of righting the "not lot"
~On the other side~
There are roses, poses
And delivering Moses
In the World of fanatical dreams
There are hoping, doping
And constantly roping
In the World of sewing seems (seams)
~Still~
There are planners, banners
And worshipping fanners
In the World of Pyramid Power
There are groveling, dissolving
And situational involving
In the World of heightening bowers
~Til~
There are woulders, coulders
And moving shoulders
In the World of Imagination
There are accepting, respecting
And continually perfecting
In the World of growing patience
~Light Shining on the Darkness
Written by Trudy Schrader on 02-11-2018
Back at home lazing like a bum
Like the doctor told me to do
A broken record sings its stilted tune
Never getting onto something new
Wonder what it's going to be like
When I'm back on my feet again
On the cusp of something greater now
And I feel like I could use a friend
Holding onto life
The way it used to be
Make it so I gotta let go
So won't you be a friend of mine?
Now she's heading to another place
So far away I couldn't hope to go
Do I take her with me when I've got
Nowhere to call my own?
On the cusp of something greater now
Something bigger than I've ever known
Life's not turning out the way I planned
And I'm scared I'm gonna be alone
Don't let me let this go
I'm not ready to advance
Baby, cling to me though I cannot see
How we're gonna make it out alive
I'm doping up with TV and games
To escape the grim reality
I wish I could get up and run
Somewhere that's nice and clear to see
I wanna stare out at the setting sun
Sinking down beneath the waves of trees
On the cusp of something greater now
It's a lie that I may believe
It's almost time to go
And never look on back
Won't you take my hand, baby it'd be grand
If you'd always stay a friend of mine
The world is filled with cheaters;
It almost seems the norm.
We hear of more examples found
In every shape and form:
A Scrabble competition where
A young man used his wiles
To sneak into the playing bag
Some extra blank-faced tiles.
Lance Armstrong, of the Tour de France,
Once honored and revered,
Now stripped of all his medals
With his reputation smeared.
Cabrera of the Giants, too,
Was doping and got caught.
It seems that sports, like politics,
With cheaters has been fraught.
We’re taught to do the honest thing
When we are in our youth;
But as we age, so many learn
That they can bend the truth.
When knocked down from a pedestal,
The former proud elite
May finally learn the price they’ll pay
For choosing ways to cheat.
discovery
let us create a mission to mars
in hyperspace
perhaps a gpt game
where we isolate known valence electrons
these are source codes of electricity
which anonimity excludes
from detection
in p doping of semiconductors
we capture and confine static discharge
in the server and mainframing of our frame
our constitution
our coins are evident
yet outliers constantly join the angle and rebound
in economic input definitions
i postulate that economic hardship is created
not destroyed
and at the same time the law of energy does not apply here
we need this applicable law of a suppositional phrase
to turn
to turn a phrase
a bitcoin into a reduction of methods
methods used
to dissuade the mind from work
thereby creating dissolution of
of whatever paper exists in the subtext of our register
this non profitable sector in time
comes under scrutiny very often in law
and can improve with our diligence
change is forth coming
duplicate notes and false positives isolate permanent ink
fact checking of legislature in dcma is verifiable
thesis
mla
conclusion
assembly language
general assembly
peaceful assembly
pledge of constraint
removal of obstruction
so on and so forth
Doping confessing by Lance Armstrong
Why tell the truth, when a lie can set you free
The sympathy card, the court jester: with slumbering tears
The windows wipers wipe the milky tears from his eyes.
He compete, and achieves victory through deceit
Does a hero cheat, his way to victory?
A hero was never label a bully throughout history
Spiderman, superman , Robin Hood
heroes never confessed their sins
The incredible hulk did a powerful transformation
Restoring international credibility in prime time;
Time after time
A myth is a myth even in the past, present and future.
(Note: This poem was written shortly after the 2022 Olympics and after Richard Branson and Jeff Bezos rode their rockets in a new space race for billionaires.)
Races
By Mark D. Stucky
Our country had a Space race
to beat Russians to the moon.
Decades ago, we left lunar footprints
and brought back rocks and selfies.
Rival billionaires build rockets now
for suborbital joyrides above.
We periodically join Olympic races
to go fractionally faster than others
for prestige and multi-metal medals.
Hosting countries spend billions
to applaud athletic bodies.
But for all that cash and hype,
we get no cure-for-cancer hope,
but viral spread and doping.
Our world needs better races
toward things that truly matter.
We require a Race race
to travel much faster
toward equity and healing
than ever gone before.
While we wish for a quick sprint,
a marathon is what we’re running.
Ending slavery long ago,
this race’s qualifying heat,
was just one stride
beyond the starting line.
Jim Crow still taints the track.
Systems still are prejudicial.
Supremacists still conspire.
Voting rights still are suppressed.
Vigilantes still chase and shoot.
Police still harm the unarmed.
This crucial marathon
has many miles to go,
but if we struggle to the end,
contenders might all be winners.
(Originally published in Small Town Anthology VIII: Entries from the Eighth Annual Tournament of Writers, Vicksburg Cultural Arts Center, 2022. See also my poems "Closed Community Prejudice (an Alphabetized Memoir)," "Weapons of Wonder," and "Hate Vacuuming?")
(Image by Braden Collum on Unsplash.com.)
Icebergs melt bears
Poles exhaust pelted creatures
Fur absorbs descent
Foreigners the lot
Bloody migrants escape floes
Pillar grown from salt
Homeless Exodus
Into uncharted rescue
No passport needed
Charity misplaced
Food banks in Antarctica
Shoot the messenger
True nature provides
Mammals seek Noah in trust
Close the gates of hell
Survival has fits
Humans on steroids of greed
No doping control
Genocide salutes
Fish bones drown upon the float
Refuge on plastic
Jolly old Darwin
Nurture mutates on the cross
Rejoice its Christmas
Evolution sinks
One more day in paradise
Malcontent scroungers
Holy and wholesome
Habitats change their disguise
Conscience a fig leaf
Suffused by wisdom
Buddha reaches Atlantis
Blows bubbles in vain
08th December 2019
Haikus traditionally do not have titles
Can't post them without on the soup though