Long Falsely Poems
Long Falsely Poems. Below are the most popular long Falsely by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Falsely poems by poem length and keyword.
Joseph His servant
Enslaved by those in the dark
A female falsely accused
Delivered by God
Displayed a heart of pure gold
True testament of God’s love
Comments: One does not have to look too far in today's society to find a modern
day Joseph. The Sedoka is an unrhymed poem made up of two three-line
poems called a katauta with the following syllable counts: 5/7/7, 5/7/7. A Sedoka,
pair of katauta as a single poem, may address the same subject from differing
perspectives. The katauta is an unrhymed three-line poem with the following
syllable counts: 5/7/7. This Sedoka highlights Joseph, God’s noble servant and
dreamer
a tsunami catapulted cruising skiff
skyward landing with quiet thud
across undulating infinite granular waves
formerly solid state rocks and minerals
optimism vibrant upon initial unforeseen
crash asper for test dummies
foundered as undertow fostered diminishing hope
initial faith for survival quickly ebbed
nsync with retreating tidal wave
pessimism dreamt fantastical holograms
farther from beached berth
immediately transformed into quicksand,
while off in the distance
a glimmering chimera
(the first of many) appeared
amidst the desert sands one mirage
after another falsely broken promise
buoyed drained salvation
quick decision decreed each man for himself
thus disseminating banded bruited "brothers"
condemnation, damnation, excoriation, fulmination
hurled at cosmic creator thwarting intercession
dehydration, exhaustion, ingratiation, jubilation
foretold merciless portentous demise
witheringly desiccating lovely bones of mine
no doubt raw elements of nature wrought
fate worse than death sans, cabin "mates"
lost among expanse of whittled quartz
across chronometer measuring millions of years
now subjecting one measly mortal i.e. me
to cruel unforgiving, unrelenting,
unwelcoming petty coated junction
blistering hot wind obliterated
fellow travelers convoy deeply
within diabolical dunes
eternally erased doom
awaited for 21st century explorers
to discover scattered wreckage
both beast of burden, outrigged contrivance
and starry trekkers, who vanished without a trace
a handful of scrappy rapscallion existences
blotted (like ink, oil, or other liquid sponged),
where subsequent seasons
of wicked bewitched slow torture
akin to being raked over hot coals
exception made for this interminable sufferer
at the whim of sadistic
persona non grata evil spirit
n'er obliterating diehard survivor instinct
a foreigner to yours truly
but atavistic primitive fight or flight
witnessed relieved whence absently blinking
this life married to indiscriminate
clamped, harried, styled devilishness
evaporated in thin air
upon tentatively opening myopic brown eyes
horror, twas boot a dream.
“Learning is a Process”
© 2015 Michelle Lynn LeBlanc
Learning not to react
Can be a lesson every day
When feelings of rejection
Tend to come our way
Why the defensiveness?
Why the need to be right?
Let's look at the real issues
No need to argue & fight
It's in us to want to defend
Each of our point of views
But when it gets nasty or hurtful
That's a path we should refuse!
Our beliefs can makes us loving
Or they can makes us unkind
Depending on who we are
And what we feed our minds
Let's choose to offer kindness
Although its often hard
When people say unkind things
And falsely judge who we are
You see, learning is a process
Each and every day
And this life is a journey
Of learning what to say!
© 2015 Michelle Lynn LeBlanc
http://fromchristianitytofreethought.webs.com/spirituality
This family I was born in was assigned to destroyed my life
I presently can't rent an apartment, be sheltered or work
So many lies has been told to keep me from prospering
Identity theft, fraud, forgery, false reports, and statements
PPP loan was collected, purchase of a Dodge Durango
I was involuntary and falsely institutionalized 10-31-20
Crimes committed in my name by strangers and family
A specific doctor was injecting me with poison
Attempts of murder on my life in many forms ie..
Motor accidents, hitmen, poisons, prescriptions, and
False diagnoses of Cancer twice; got me to cut off my breasts
Staged funeral to collect a false life insurance claim
Members of law enforcement, judicial, insurance agents
Bank and medical institutions, funeral directors, utility, military
United States Postal Services, masonic and eastern star cults
International criminals exploited women through HA programs
Catholic Non-Profit Humanitarians used homeless drug addicts and
prostitutes to gang stalk me hacked and traced all my devices
I have been followed and tracked my whole life. Fallen Angel System
I have been homeless since August 2023; no criminal records
No drug use, no affiliation to criminal social circles/ covens
No one will rent to me; the system or the narrative of my reputation
This system has came up against me all my life as I recollect
It has used vessels to ruin my character and my reputation
Those living with illusion of scarcity will do anything for money
AI/CGI was used to put me in places with people I never been
Strangers took pictures of me as they stalked me
They run me off jobs or can't get hire for any corporation
I'm not able to promote my art(paintings) to make a living
It's not appreciated that I was born to see through the illusions
People(Vessels), places, and things of a system that is leading
and deceiving this world of humanity down a history repeating
path of destruction of this Earth.
I am still surviving despite of everything that is happening!
I am innocent.
Quit it! Stop being hypocritical about freedom
What type or what kind that you are talking about?
Be serious! Keep on talking about freedom
Until you drive me to boredom
Until I am strong enough to eat a live trout
Keep on yelling freedom, freedom
Until you lose your kingdom
In Galatians 5: 1,13-15: we found these words, not in error
"You shall love as yourself your neighbor"
"But through love become slaves to one another"
"If, however, you bite and devour one another,
Take care that you are not consumed by one another"
Go read the Bible yourselves, ‘because we are free'
We are brothers and sisters, we should love one another
Yes, Christ died for our freedom, for our liberty
We want freedom in America
We want freedom in Cuba
We want freedom in Columbia
We want freedom in Haiti
Which is poor because of exploitation
Corruption, violence, hatred, pollution
Lies, extortion, racism, theft, distortion
Misery, slavery, crimes and discrimination
Stop, stop being hypocritical about freedom
Let's finish elaborating and talking about freedom
Before alluding to or commenting on democracy
Which is more twisted, complex, convoluted or mazy
Big brother is supposed to protect the little one
In this world, we should fight for freedom for everyone
For the rich, the poor, the underprivileged and the elderly
The strong must protect the weak one. Oh! Miss Liberty
Stands for something noble and divine for all
"For freedom Christ has set us free", so we can walk tall
So we can think freely
So we can wink freely
So we can talk freely
So we can walk freely
So we can laugh freely
So we can clap freely
So we can write freely
So we can chat freely
So we can dream freely
So we can invent freely
So we can live freely
So we can breathe freely
While respecting each other
And protecting one another
Oh! Freedom, Freedom. Too many humans have senselessly
And falsely die in your name. Oh! Freedom. Oh! Liberty.
Copyright © July 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit”
I am broken by my pride and arrogance
How should I ever see the kingdom of heaven
“Blessed are those who mourn”
My sins and offenses are innumerable
Why would I deserve comfort
“Blessed are the meek”
I struggle with anger and aggression
What makes me worthy of any inheritance
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”
Righteousness slips through my finger like sand
How can a void be filled
“Blessed are the merciful”
My thirst for vengeance consumes me
Why would mercy be shown me
Blessed are the pure in heart
I lust for more and more
What is my chance of seeing the holy
“Blessed are the peacemakers”
Violence and broken relationships litter my life
How can I be called a child of God
“Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness”
Too few are the times I stood for what is just and right
Why would I gain the kingdom of heaven
“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me”
I have abandoned Your Way so many times
What makes a man such as myself worthy to be blessed
The Blood of the Lamb
Atones for all
I repent!
I love you better
than Cookies and Cream,
my lifelong favorite
more than seas playing footsies
with shore clams
in cuddly tropical sands
The warmth of enticing Caribbean
soothing waters
(billowy-sails...fields of overhead
stars...night's complicit fireflies
helping chart to a romantic cove
a beat-up heart seeking a paradise-like
new-start)
(a desire for tasteful, novel, cheerful effervescent
brew, a need to leave on the old dock past that settled for
impure bitters)
( navigate clear of thought defacing
apps like Facebook's and Twitter's
that falsely entice, tempt
a free-thinking, sacred spirit, to
express living solely on a mindless
uncaring device – not a true life, just a
wax slice
not abiding complete, but in fact,
manipulated into electronic defeat....)
Petals need firm attachment if to be
enticing blushing roses~ blooms for crinkly smiles,
puckering lips and playful toes-es –
Valentines of
perfumed hearts made of hand-laid,
lacy type paper, crafted by flirty eyes
in agreement with pheromone receptive
noses
A softly played harp...a bower of flowers...
Back lathering showers shared – which
requires a minimum of two daring
hearts...wantonly, lovingly paired –
Love is always trumpeted, openly, fondly, vociferously
musically declared....
Morning
The Innkeeper checked his watch once again
Hoping the chef's feelings weren't hurt.
The last time they were, he arrived two hours late
And then left, serving just his dessert.
Sadly the chef, on this day of all days
Turned up filthy, flies open and drunk.
A black cat meowed as the chef stumbled in;
He was unkempt and cursing and stunk.
The Innkeeper's head sank deep in his hands
As he needed his chef to be right.
The Tabard was busy and fully booked up
And was hosting a meeting that night.
Noon
To make matters worse, the chef's wife appeared
It was NOT what was needed at all.
She grabbed at chef's hair and kicked open his shin
And threw dishes and plates at the wall.
The Innkeeper tried to separate both
As utensils flew wild through the air
Then chef lost his balance taking with him a shelf
And pepper dispersed everywhere.
The chef lay there slumped and silent and still
He was bloodied and bruised on the floor.
His wife and the Innkeeper looked at each other
As chef sneezed and then let out a snore.
Night
With her husband in clinic the chef's wife revealed
The reason as to why he was mad:
- "Earlier that day he had finally found out
He was not my child's natural dad.
He took all of my money and spent it on drink
And the police were then sadly involved.
He falsely accused me of harming my son
And that issue has not been resolved."
Later That Night
Nobody ate at The Tabard for nights
But the Innkeeper learnt something instead:
- "..So I am your lover AND the father as well"
He said smiling to chef's wife in bed.
The key to feeling loved—attention
sharped or flatted drilled or bored,
love demands attention that’s the score—
marry the compound emotions of gist and jest,
sing the song of sorrow serene:
lay lie Ophelia on the waves of death
but grab the stage please.
Separated, longing, faceless, safety falsely felt
instruments of creation writhe in amour
lipping candied words across a span of white
following the cursor through the long night
a bouncing ball while music
plays, lovers seek delight.
Age, an unseen pain does not betray the seeking heart
wrinkled countenance denied by purloined words,
heat self-fingered brings release percussed by tapping
indexes, moans cascade to vibrato trills alone
Attention to the tale, the changing platform of the frame
love unknown, unfounded, forms within the detail of the page.
Contest: The Pain of Night
Silence permeates a desolate landscape.
Fossil fuels and nukes laid waste
to everything we knew, everyone we loved,
now unnaturally erased.
Yet, a cozy, rustic, little cottage stands.
A child's scrawl says, "Mom you're awesome!"
next to pictures on the refrigerator door.
A vase holds a red rose blossom.
Pixels emanate from a silicon brain,
swirling into a hologram,
a three-dimensional synthetic scene,
Proclaiming, falsely, "this I am".
This scene is played for centuries and eons hence.
Because of men's delusion,
there's no one to see this timeless projection,
an AI-produced illusion.