Long Filthiest Poems
Long Filthiest Poems. Below are the most popular long Filthiest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Filthiest poems by poem length and keyword.
When you give someone power- it goes to their head
Ego does transpire along with loss of thread
A human flaw within us all many can’t succumb
Lacking self-control to only come undone.
To be all mind though far behind holistic healthy being
To depart from the heart and people overseeing-
With foresight it’s just not right to turn from natures course
To disrespect another without any real remorse.
Ones vanity is calamity and often for a buck
Forgetting that all money is the filthiest of muck
Though drives them so- this money flow
To dictate heartless spew...
If only they could see the world from others point of view...
The point of no return could be global or individual
but never is it in the middle.
It is a horizon of dreams aloft in hope held by tentative
strands of rope that weaken and deny what hearts are
seeking. It is love, stirred with hate that drips need to
bleed us, heal us and force our tired cope. It is a circle
never ending, a line never bending, and it holds questions
with no answers, like keys to kingdoms none can find to
turn or master.
It is that door, the door, where dear ones come and go,
ones who carry joy, hold us, love us, then, in time
they lack reasons to feel or the want to know us, so, no,
I mean, yes, it is not long-term, strongly rooted trust.
It is a strange, bewildering, momentous fuss that boils in
us until we bubble up our filthiest cuss.
It is same attempts in a familiar game of strange
ranging from old to presentations tweaked as new
that leave us standing without scent of a clue. It is
the reason creating all things we do and the matter
with our universal supply of glue. It is your craziness
fondling my insanity, too.
As a match, it does flame fan mankind’s fire to rise in
heat stroked red curls ever higher. It is the silence
that secrets our desires and the stillness of hush-laced
conspires. It causes human hands failed attempts to grab
sky-warm, star blankets, not to be human had.
It is a riddled fear maze forcing us to run, to race by men
with aimed happy guns, to quick stride far from addicts
selling sons and slowly consider embracing those we have
shun as we forgive ourselves for all never seen done.
It is another day, and, say, someday it might not come.
What is it intrigues one to know existence
Is it the thrive for life or living we endure
Famine of life as deadly as dark soul we live
Like book, covered words hidden inside beneath
Definition easy to read, trust no one
Life has no remote, only change can you do yourself
But your act, pain and sickness you kill with knowledge
With everything you do, side effects be tremendous
Is it we think we are, therefore we are not
The genius to smartness but yet we are so dumb
Our consequences are deadly no matter what we believe
We speak big words, no one understands ever
Word like court judge, guilty I find in ignorance
To think you are better the paper did not say
But only you succeeded to graduate, not top of class
But equal like all others before and after
Your brain no different, therefore you think
Famine of life, like decaying world we stay
We claim to help when in fact we do not know
Just another species, dead at the hands of man
Is starvation of the dream or one's stomach hungers
We fight the loosing battle to be the same
Each one different inside with the same struggle
Where money rules, what is it to have
That I have not but reality to face everyday
Where is freedom of life that I pay to live
To breath filthiest of scum's who reign
That only one day I be taken away to the heavens
Real or not, I just know I be free
Of the famine of life, my thirst as dry as desert
Where weeds, only growth to my older days
Famish, just another day I hunger in presence of mankind
Some men are afraid of ignorance
They go about the land seeking truth
Opening their eyes to the filthiest of things
Wanting to know everything they can
They will never be fooled
Their knowledge will open others as well
Where the truth lies, ignorance lies also
Like a child longing for acknowledgement
Some fight blindly toward it
In hope to destroy it with their own two hands
Instead, it blooms elsewhere and grows
The truth shows us where the evil is
It exists as we do and lives as we live
If evil in the man's eye does not exist
The absence of ignorance is a lie
Some men instead embrace ignorance
They stay where they are, content as ever
Their eyes see and their ears hear
Their desire to know is dull
The current takes them where it may
Truths are all but happenings
Their present is their pedestal
But the truth is still there
Walking in a dangerous dark
Calling on direction and value
Like a starved child screaming for sustenance
Like a father waiting to chastise his son
Ignorance is never ignored by them
It becomes their god
Can embracing ignorance, then, be a sin?
But even the treasure of truth can kill
I fought one piggish Titan and I won
As if that devious Leech existed not;
Sealing the very firy nose of his gun
With ball-like rags to sap every shot.
A long-lionized mogul of giant name
Slew my low fists by a magic stroke;
Vilest Judas glossing in pesty fame,
I his two-timing fang spookily broke.
I know not if such a scheming villain
Fickle arms dim for want of glut gain,
Ever shall by Time's rare marvel floor,
And ink selfsame serendipities more.
May the Highest Star your ochre clip,
And pelt plagues and fates your ship;
Until Hades her filthiest minion finds
Sulfurous frying betwixt fallen minds.
May your fiendish bow of foxy veneer
Snap mid-hunt as looms hugest deer,
And life's fave tooth turn fatal sore;
Your daintiest morsel tartest grow!
Laurah Maybelle Rickborn
1907-1935
Life was such a excruciating bother.
I’m happy the long drama is finished now.
My childhood consisted mostly of chores and lessons,
While my teenage years were devoted to daydreams,
Dancing, and the work I did ceaselessly,
On my parents’ modest farm on Painter Avenue.
Indeed, I acquired the dogmatic idea early in life,
That chickens are undoubtedly the filthiest creatures,
Ever created by our very creative creator.
So it was with a strange dose of personal joy,
Whenever I accosted one of our hapless chickens by its neck,
For the celebrated purpose of a quick slaughter.
Then, with speedy relish, I’d chop its beady head off;
Finally, with determined aplomb, I defeathered the thing,
As it death-spasmed still on my bloody lap.
Such are the memories I choose to remember,
As my final pathetic epitaph,
Of a life I found ultimately annoying and frustrating;
Of having to put up with arrogant selfish men,
Who smelled of cigars, whiskey and sweaty talcum;
And who desired more than a quick dance under the stars, indeed!
Of having to endure obtuse women with no life at all, except drudgery;
Simple-minded women who worked like willing slaves,
For their blow hard men-keepers; Blecch!
I wanted no part of that, thank you.
Like I said, I’m happy the drama is finished.
Happy, deliriously so, that
My daily encounters with conceited boorish men,
Are, at last, at an end!
Brava I say, to all women who fly freely!
Fly! Fly! Resist men! Fly!