Long Fake Poems
Long Fake Poems. Below are the most popular long Fake by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fake poems by poem length and keyword.
Wake up. If you can.
Or just lie there, blank-eyed,
Listening to the ceiling rot.
Time is fake. Clocks are arrogant.
Let them tick for someone who matters.
Forget food. Hunger is just the body begging
To feel something. Anything.
You know better now.
Scroll until your bones rust.
Doom is infinite.
Your spine will curve to match the screen—
A digital prayer
To no god in particular.
Smile in mirrors, practise the lie.
Don't tell anyone you're drowning—
They'll only throw you metaphors
And say "same" and change the subject.
Believe the voice. You know the one.
It's not a demon. It's more honest
Than your friends.
It says:
"You're the stain on the X-ray."
"You're the scream that didn't echo."
"You're the leftover hours."
Go outside, maybe.
Feel how the sun doesn't notice you.
Birds don't sing for you.
The grass grows for no one.
God doesn't care — why should you?
Love no one deeply.
They will only try to fix you,
Like you are a crooked painting.
But this is not art. This is erosion.
Pretend you are healing.
Make it convincing.
Say "I'm okay" like a spell,
Then die a little more for telling it.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
This is how you stay sick.
This is how you never stop
Feeling
Like
.
In life it becomes apparent that there are fake people who would enjoy taking you for a ride without contributing anything!
The constant stages of guessing if they want to pursue a relationship with you becomes a tumor on your mind!
In theory and truth they have decided to take you on their ride and do not expect to give you anything!
All these people want to do is take you for their benefit and do not give a damn on how they keep your heart in a bind!
Are you a nice guy that gives them respect even when they have shunned you for a person that has more?
They leave the person and run back to you as you were always there to diminish their unbearable pain!
They act and say words that make you feel different; however, the feeling is all a dream as your mind and heart ask her for more
Their words of you finding your true mate are the last words you hear as you end the night with nothing to gain!
When she leaves all you feel is the pain of being a man that is not attractive to the false women that only go for immature boys!
Men do not feel unworthy as I have felt his pain inside of my soul as a poison, do not become her a slave to her being a !
If she cannot see the value that you bring to the table in all of your interactions then remove her from your heart and do not become one of her toys!
Let her drown in her sorrows as she will only give you hugs and kisses of deceit; because she is a hurtful !
If she is confused and does not become a to you and treats you poorly, then say these words and move into the next step, ‘I love you!’
If she is the one then continue to water your relationship and watch it grow; make her a wife and mother, then constantly praise her and daily say the words ‘I love you!’
While Shuttered Up Inside... ©ozy
Snug Air Conditioned Demesne...
Analogous to my boyhood
cosseted and bereft, I assay
to poetically elucidate how majority
of mine years found me
deft keeping danger at bay
only thru the pour substitute
of my imagination
remaining safe within the causeway
of a quasi Norman Rockwell picturesque
unblemished near utopian day,
where trumped up "FAKE" danger
stoked courtesy of
anticipatory anxiety didst essay
when pinhead size
pores faux stressed
every epidermal square inch
populating skin oozing perspiration
along I-59 pro Roman
lix spittle sweaty freeway
precipitated, via illusory mailer daemons
unavoidably pitching me
into an inescapable fray
unlike late twenty somethings
(Jay Austin and Lauren Geoghegan,
whose cruel fate
at the hands of Isis militants
published online by Irish Times),
evinced carpe diem
existential Great Gatsby
live life to the fullest
created an extraordinary journey
(now forever immortalized as
daring adventurist trekkers)
with ample horseplay
deliberately, egregiously, fanatically
and wantonly killed,
when purely exalting in zest
promulgated by indomitable spirit
found me choked up,
a baby boomer i.e. west
tern civilized married bloke,
who opted to die vest
away from blatant uncertainty
never daring to experience unrest
outside a severely circumscribed perimeter,
exempt from a life
and death litmus test,
where very little harm extant,
when taking repast or rest
only ushering, venturing,
and taking, sans
quotidian cerebral quest
ensconced within four walls
without nary a pest
except...pet peeves of mine
within psyche built a nest,
nonetheless hounded by many a vicious beast
whose predatory cannibalistic feast
comprises thine psychological state greased
with until mortality expires,
asper being temporarily lend leased.
No one is real,
We all have a dual face.
Find someone who can,
Excite your taste.
People respect money,
Not the person.
Money can be,
A Beast of Burden.
The one you love more,
Is the one that hurts you
the most.
The rest of your life,
You live with her ghost.
When you're happy,
You enjoy the melody.
Life is full of fun and
Prosperity.
When you're sad,
You feel the lyrics.
You get crap from
The critics.
Patience is hard when
You have nothing.
Alone with your thoughts,
It is something.
Check your attitude,
When you have everything.
It's often assassination,
That kills the king.
People want good looks,
They don't want good people.
Most times the intentions
Are mean and evil.
Failure slaps you out
In the open.
It floods you with,
Anger and emotion.
Success hugs you
In private.
It’s true,
You can't deny it.
A poor person,
He has no fake friends.
He has no money,
To give or to spend.
When the time comes,
Own your s___t.
Lay it on the line,
Be legit.
Turbo1904?
Some hand you smiles dipped in napalm,
Then turn to poison the second you drop your guard.
Humans, Moral plastic caught in flame,
Deals of décor, rotting behind the facade.
Draw your lines, don’t offer the other cheek,
Run before you melt, before their vice seeps in.
Don’t become their reflection in the sewage creek,
Shield your core, gun down their shadowed kin.
The closest ones stab you while humming tunes,
You believed them ?
Then you bought their stage show.
Masks always fall, but not too soon,
And it cuts deep when your gold turns hollow.
Time bows to no one, knows no friend, no code,
Yet it empties your pockets and carves your load.
You thought the heart beat louder than their schemes?
Mistake. Love’s just a crooked trade, poorly sold.
Behind each hug lie venom-laced gleams,
Vows engraved to chain you cold.
They market tenderness by the single unit,
But price tags shift when the interest slides.
Soft gazes? Formatted lies in transit,
Traitorous programs packed in disguise.
Give too much, and your neck’s in the noose,
To soul-thieves cloaked as folks you trust.
They pierce your chest with sugary abuse,
Fake virtue dripping from pockets of dust.
You believed in them, you opened your gate,
Now burn the inside, cleanse what they taint.
They say you’re mad when you see too clear,
Call your insight bitterness, a vengeful trace,
But don’t confuse wound with righteous spear,
It’s not hate, it’s reading the human disgrace.
They cry victim when you show the proof,
Blame you for cruelty while sharpening blades.
Their kindness? A theater, a Judas spoof,
Tears of the damned when your trust degrades.
They preached forgive, they preached be kind,
While they reload their games behind the screen.
Fed you morals like venom in your mind,
While they trafficked virtue in silence obscene.
Desert the pews of their demonic plays,
Rip off the label, good intent betrays.
My clothes came from
K-mart.
They were on layaway
Until school starts.
We would go out to eat,
Every now and then.
We would chill out when
Our parents would count to ten.
A treat on a hot summer day,
It was a popsicle.
We would take a break from
Riding our bicycle.
We would get allowance and
Buy fake cigs as candy.
When I was a kid,
Things were fine and dandy.
School everyone had to go,
It was mandatory.
We couldn't watch movies
That were bloody and gory.
We changed clothes to
Go out and play.
Street lights came on, you headed
Home; this was the way
Daycare was a neighbor,
Or older sibling.
You were spanked for lying
Or stealing.
You could not go outside,
when you were being punished.
You could laugh at someone's
dumbness.
We ate dinner every night
At the table.
When we were babies,
We were rocked in the cradle.
We played truth or dare,
Cops and robbers.
Boys grew their hair,
Quit going to the barbers.
We played red light, green light,
Simon says and tag.
Every day at school we pledged
Allegiance to the flag.
No bottled water,
We drank from a hose.
We could get muddy,
We had on our play clothes.
You memorized your address
And phone number.
We went on vacation or to
A camp in the summer.
When I was a kid,
We looked out for one another.
If you didn't you were spanked
By your father.
We watched cartoons on
Saturday morning.
We had family values,
A sense of belonging.
Turbo1904 ?
Poets Hanging from a Poet Tree
Poetry in motion is perilous a dangerous pastime a thing of the anachronistic
past in the global villainous village in which minds are colonised for the greater
comforting good of synchrony when all are equal at speechless lack of words
It is decreed on pain of death that meter rhymes and scripted feelings tercets
appealing to the trinity of liberty justice and dignity are abolished from now on
that reason must appeal only to the rationale of what the rulers think for us
Signs around rebellious broken necks state crystal clear suggest resistance to
be futile ‘I am a poet swine and slept with words’ draped from the garrotte of
those scribes who could not be reformed in genocidal concentration camps
Surely civil society is a better place with those demised who smear the thought
police with craft and artistry dreams fantasies and aspirations of a loving kind
or critical reflection of virtues happiness not derived from greed or power
Will I hang gladly from the tree shout in defiance ‘death to silence long live free
expression eat my words’ or would I prefer to save my skin since once the chip
to monitor my mind has been implanted all evidence is centrally collected
Or underground persistence burrowing subterranean streams of consciousness
hacking into silicon and copper in my brain to garble up regimental surveillance
short circuit and cross wire all those in power with one massive Trojan virus
Scaremongering you think and cynical exaggeration spreading rumours croaking
ominous fake news and propaganda well think again and make a plan for how
you’ll fare with threat and passion because the trees are there and so are the signs
Reverence affects yours
truly with unmeasurable
infinite jubilant zeal,
sans unbeknownst world wide
(web stirred) fans enamored
with me poetry induce
cogs of mine
noggin to wheel
write (thru the roof),
thus I feel impelled
to spell out
appreciation to those
die hard regular followers
or one time cyber reader,
who (minnie mull lee)
move mouse or gingerly
(collude) manipulate trackpad
motioning qua thumbwheel
scrolling thru each
rich text chord
line figuratively aswarm
with multisyllabic words planted,
cultivated and harvested,
where eyes feast
visually soaking up
mine magic charm
(albeit wrought by
this modest male),
whose virtual crafted
figurative humble Georgia based
Orwellian animal farm
revels with euphoria
more precious then,
(you guessed) bajillion
banked bagged loot
(of quartz without
taking for granite)
die hard aficionados tub hoot,
these stalwart re:dears,
asper scratchings
of this ole coot
oft times curious what attracts
dedicated trooping veterans
(undoubtedly war re:)
like avast horde of
buzzfeed ding flies to fruit,
or motivated students
subjecting her/him self
partial to mental taxation
(without representation)
i.e. (trying to make sense
of confounding poetry authored
by Matthew Scott Harris)
at the select particular institute,
the very same college (within Lake
Woebegone) this alumni
made popular upon being
recognized as a verb hose,
re: noun sub bull
("FAKE" Norwegian bachelor) guy.
You couldn't cope with being you so you didn't help me,
the struggle was too great, no time was free,
you'd mock me when I'd speak out of pure need
to stop me 'cus you're weak and so I would leave
You couldn't cope with being you and you'd turn to me
seeing you struggle I'd set time free
non stop talking for your relief
forgotten in a week when you found self belief
you had a friend that i never had
yours pulled you up whilst mine made me sad
you healed and were glad whilst I went mad
you had a good friend and my friend was bad
you choose to see me as mentally broken
it makes you feel you're good at coping
your fake composure betters my brutally open
yet I quit the cannabis that you are still smoking
Fake pyrotechnics bloom inside plastic strips.
The night gets colder
as Christmas carols limp on.
I slip away from the dull concert
into the unlit zoo,
sure that among the sculptured
caves and enclosures
beasts pace their plots.
Close by a large animal looms.
I smell the weight of it, a matted moonlight
awake under a thick pelt.
Eyes spy each other through electric bodies.
A restless prowler coughs,
fearful Impressions escape their enclosures
to hunt upon dark lost paths.
I have seen enough, or rather
I have not seen but sensed,
a curious peril nosing my presence.
Grizzly Bear or Bogey beast -
hard to tell.
Behind me
I hear children still singing…
a 1000 pound Hammerhead shark
swims past my cringing mind
on its way back to an unlit aquarium.