Long Dystopia Poems
Long Dystopia Poems. Below are the most popular long Dystopia by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dystopia poems by poem length and keyword.
Half flesh, half steel, sinews and twined wire,
Begotten in the heat of half-love, tempered
By hatred and the axe, fathered by one
Who killed her mother, the male chauvinist boar
Whose eye-teeth, razor-sharp, saw through the spine,
Joy-sword in sheath. Wrought iron, blood vessels,
Bone and cable, one part conceived, the other forged
On the hard anvil where gusts of blood are seed
Of all the axeman most does fear – cast iron woman
With stanchions for a trunk, iron breastplate,
A malleable black heart, a metallic chastity belt
No man may boast of stealing and still live,
Who beats men at their own battle games,
A dab hand with the axe herself, as salty tears
And globules of mercury exude from grey glands
Made In America
Is a fable
By foreign companies
For
Gullible patrons
Who love
To call themselves
Patriots
Today a key
To unlock the apartment
Tomorrow
It will be
Your debit card
And
A credit score
Will float over your head
Kids go to school
Not in the latest fashion
Nor
Do they wear uniforms
No
School kids
Today they wear
Bullet-proof vests
No healthcare for all
But war!
War for all ages!
Step up!
One and all!
Except for the rich!
Only the poor
Get to die!
On television
That's not a NASCAR race!
It's congress
But look
Look at their sponsors
Big pharma!
And oil companies!
Writing your laws!
Dystopia dysphoria
It never
Seemed real
Until
We made it real!
And Idiocracy
is a documentary
Of America's downfall!
I am being forced to live
With horrible malformations
On my body
In my body
I am stuck with them for years
For who knows how long
The people want me dead
Simply for existing
They claim it is in the name of the children
But I am a child
Being forced to grow up
And I am not the only one
There are millions of us they want arrested
Or simply put to sleep
But that is too nice a word
For what they want
They want us dead
In their claim of righteousness
We want to live
Without the horrible mutilations
That we had forced upon us
They claim it's in the name of life
Yet children are shot in the streets
And the places meant to be safe
Are hotgrounds of violence and death
All we want is to live
As children are meant to do
They let children be parents
But they won't let us save our own lives
We are too young to know who we are
Yet old enough to tell someone else?
There is no possible way
For me to afford a roof over my head
But if I were to take my chances
On the streets
I would be thrown in jail or shot
For the crime of being there
I am being killed
In the name of life
And all this was only
From one news report
The subject matter seems in short
supply.?
Here i'll offer some ideas for
just
why.? In decades not so long gone.'
There was a type of life.' Many
dreamed and acted upon
This fact.' A fact is an in-ailianable
componant of history.' This i
point out to
Maybe ideal-illogical rich
billionaires.? So these other
people not as rich.' Were yet invested in many ways that made things tick..
There were traits like
Civic and neighbouhood pride..Tried and tested friendship; mateship maternal love
Also good paternal values were highly esteemed,
there was no real wish into dystopia to slide..Now to the pittance that these folk strove for.! A stable life, a paid off mortgage..All with dedication and struggle
That is for sure.' And this was passed
along, with leisure; sports
games pub gatherings; weddings and many
Other frames.'
The safety valves that were released once
And again ' so not for billions a base existed that had home values, aspirations
Also were almost of no limit.' Now such a focused citizenry who played to the rules ( oh wow oh gee )
they produced the premium 'fodder for war' they were in sync
With the system..It was well.? their oyster and you could serve them raw. Yet through
The decades all was stripped away.' And
then came 'the con-vid scam' very sad but hey..Subjected to planned
genocide tested
Herded..Locked inside.' and further to all this the blatant aim to remove their modest
Motivational norms.' A safe dry roof over their heads, a chance for sport, a time to wed' no hope for the
young no place for the old.' And the promise they would
Be robbed of land and gold.' And the loopy
Billionairs are surprised.? When willing armies do not arise.' Apart from armies of un-verfied aliens moving in..I think the billionairs should think again.' Or maybe they just don't do joined up.? One exoression explains it all they have ( stuffed it all up.)
When purity and love dance
peace and joy shine bright
empathizing with a glance
to heal the heart with insight
waves of desire wash across
a life filled with shadows of rudeness
thinking of the heavy loss
felt by one who flounders in lewdness
naked minds feel the grief
brought on by tainted fears
apathy felt without any relief
angst growing amongst bitter tears
we hope to discover the utopia
written across the heart’s face
within one who has lived in dystopia
finally recognizing God’s saving grace
where are we headed poetry contest
sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
April 1, 2021
Brother. O Brother.
O when when we were callow
In days young Shakers of the movement before
gray & silver turned our locks we held in idol
Spree even damned were we
Lessen a very score ’til callous became un-sore
away had you myth into the far-off seeking a northern star
Thus did dim of you re-turn filled
privileged besiege ferrying scripted jots of the novel are
deluged in assure
Brother. O Brother.
Dont forthwith tell to me nor else what I do not
forth I have continued a militant pace
Dont mid uncommon lot tell to me nor else
demur girding resistance rebellious plot
If you must speak a hair tell
of owned stead mid factional fight In the absence
tell of owned gallant march for quality rights
If adapt if no longer a sworn knight
tell of owned rationalism of moralism the plagiarism of
Quisling plight ill-gots Are you not at will zealot
Brother. O Brother.
Here in the brawling depth the course bowl clear
onward the struggle un-stop
You we in pledge had warrant to our brethren aged
to carry the pillars in lift
O out furthest yon you hither re-turn elope dystopia sum utmost grift
—whitewashed literacy alien pensive — these snares gate
earnest mental width so readily turncoat gift
in errand of handmade suits and seasoned goose
be too un-loathed the dandy one who tend the noose
Steady are the angered us of sternly force
undue toil seizing liberty under conquer
Brother. O Brother.
If for reasons untold at sun’s godly will alms’ shine
shalt fetch flicker of brotherly chime
O the left-behind aggrandizing autocrat-kneeler sprawl
as liken wayward owl
cant find luminous in eyes of kinship kind — formed
across absolutist allured far-off whereat darken desert loom
Muse this Steely-dusk rise leap desert’s sandy sweep
to the heavens it seeps to hand the moon its imposing greet
if for reasons untold
CRY THE BELOVED CONTINENT…
(Apropos The Ripping Veil of Pan-Africanism)
In all her blackness
her soils run red
with the blood of her children
Whose bloated bellies
mock the pregnancy
of liberty
And her breasts
sag in union
with faces
of hopeless hopefulness;
While hollowed eyes
of mourners
gaze into the wholeness
of nothing---
Smiling death stalks
the narrowing corridors of
life---echoing souring laughs
to virgin wombs
screaming from the shadows
of the valley of death:
But believe brethren---
mock not the gods---
keep plodding;
for in the theism
of this imposed dystopia,
a wretched mother
tenaciously clings to time
and history.
My wife picked up the phone and called her friend Lucy
Said we'll be in your haunts, we're coming to D.C.
"We found a hotel in Largo, it has a large pool
It will take our dog, and the kids don't have school."
Lucy replied "Largo hotels shelter many an illegal
"I suppose you picked it because it will allow your beagle
"Anyway, not all illegals are guilty of vice
DHS is cracking down, plus some are really nice."
"One point" Lucy added, "don't walk outside:
"Largo's poor, and lots of crime beside"
"And" said Lucy, don't park in the back of the hotel...
"Thieves will rip off your car, and parts they'll resell
"There's nice shopping, but a gang hangs out at the mall
"They sometimes get violent, but police are on call
"I bought shoes there, it's nice - oh if you take the train
"Just avoid the bad types, stay in your lane."
My wife is an optimist, she said Lucy was upbeat
But the devils in the details, I was white as a sheet
I switched our reservation to Rockville MD
Hard to believe that our capital is Washington, D.C.
I looked up Largo, its known as really bad
But many towns are runners up, it's really sad
I've been told by folks who visit Europe's east
They have safer, prettier cities, relatively at least.
The U.S. is a checkerboard, some squares are alright
But 40 percent of us fear going out at night
I used to think we were a center of freedom and right
But dystopia reins, the future's not bright.
[Perhaps this is apart of my twisted delusions? Oh, mundane, antithetical, to dream of a median--a deranged, psychotic thought.]
[“I ponder the chains of order; perpetually asphyxiating a ‘disobedience’. Why, why we need of persecuting the good?”]
[Malice subsumes those who yet to temper, and sorrow enshrouds those refined. Crux, crux, I call to, whom ignore my solemn cries.]
[“A fate of malevolence albeit conduct--oh, love, abhor, equity seldom be attained.“]
[Is it merely viable?]
[“Or am I just simply insensate?”]
[Ah, break me free of the binding chains-- one of rectitude, the other loathe, as if there’s no point in between.]
[“Told of finding peace, tempted to defile, disequilibrium.”]
[Why serenity remain beyond touch?]
[“Is it plausible to grasp?”]
A fate of dystopia.
it’s lonely standing outside the cage
with the left of centre attitude
as
the majority look upon
with disdain
whatever happened to freedom of expression?
the darkness casts no shadows
now that
the sold dream has morphed
into a nightmare
and
the path to dystopia
is starting to get worn
populism has become
democracies illusion
when opinions expressed
go against the grain
whatever happened to
freedom to free speech?
a muzzled voice can’t scream
so they just point
and silently laugh
at the different
but who is laughing?
behind the light the fork tongue speaks
through blinded eyes and closed ears
they perceive it to be true
the oils blackness has now seeped
the 21st century plague has eaten
the jelly brains now blindly follow
question not
when the alarm bell rings
they all stop to sing
its tune
and those standing left of centre
are looked upon with disdain
whatever happened to the right
of having a different opinion?