Long Grotesque Poems
Long Grotesque Poems. Below are the most popular long Grotesque by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grotesque poems by poem length and keyword.
After may be the advent of democracy war could grunt
or groan, raising it's smokes or names for instance.
Once more again it may not be the only thing so harking
to show,
when like already new diseases are found everyday
everywhere here wew gingering further to a gloom
grotesque.
Nigeria is under intranet humor emergency:
Maybe a cool war to see the world now through itself,
maybe a cool war to welcome the something whole
heatedly,
maybe a cool war to enjoy a thing of clit and clat.
Why like democracy is also the government of these
machines, they are cool but on me- thought noses,
water is nature and fish and mermaid and stone
and a lot more?.
Carry on through the struggle
carry on through the pain
carry on through it all
until you rise again
hide to survive
stay alive
then you’ll thrive
don’t capitulate
just wait for the fight
the enemy is mighty
but might he remain
you might be mighty
when you come to reign
now is the night
wait for the light
out of the darkness
shining so bright
you’ll be forgotten
they won’t know your name
or you can keep plotting
with victory is fame
you won’t be remembered
as one who surrendered
but you’ll be a treasure
fighting forever
you live on your knees
you beg and you plead
or rise to your feet
you can fight and compete
If you have the option
give up is not one
defeat must be forced on you
no one can force you too
there is much more to do
dig deep and force it through
if you give up
it’s because you lack will
success is a mental state
more than it is skill
it’s the act of resilience
unable to move
the fact that your brilliance
can’t be removed
they think it’s all over
well, it isn’t yet
you won’t rollover
you’ll give what you get
no act of closure
no way you will quit
everyone knows you
fight and you hit
fight to the end
grow strong and grow fit
creating your destiny
waiting and desperately
hate grotesque enemies
greatness eventually
All through the crux
never crushed
never beaten
never rushed
never weakened
patiently waiting
all the while underrated
steadying nerve
go forth with worth
never surrender give up or give in
making the memories of a time you did win
Some have ambitions to knock others down
Make your ambition to still be around
They will use gossip or slanderous sound
but you shalt be moved standing your ground
If you’re in the right
then just carry on
they don’t want a fight
they just want you gone
Julius Caesar not Napoleon Blownapart
defeat would be easier but for your heart
give it your mind give it your soul
giving your being giving it whole
victory at all costs that is your goal
Race riot
I went to a dancing competition, little did I know
it was naked dancing by grotesque old people
the young in the audience laughed till their faces
became a mask of horror, looking
at their future
someone pointed at me, look! he is old, grabbed
me and tried to tear my clothes off
I jumped out of the window and landed in a lake
5 fathom deep, of forgotten tears and also
tears shed a graveside
I drank the tears, buckets full
I went back to
the window and spewed it over the shameless
old people, who had let go of their dignity in
pursuit of eternal youth and fled to the woods
torchlight and angry voices, get him he is not
a democrat wants to stop us from having fun
he is a Nazi, sting him up with the Jews
we know his name is Samuelson, the third
and has a tailor shop in town
Adjectives laugh, insisting on their way
Bright eyed ideas determined to stay
Creativity ready to leap and parlay,
Dancing along my dendrite highway
Elusive words rather well fed
Frankenstein fodder explodes in my head.
Grotesque vocabulary parades in my brain.
Hip hop dancers drive me quickly insane.
I eat sixteen sweet rolls, hoping to get fat.
Joking and jumping this way and that.
Kookaburra does knee bends each and every day
Longing to twist me in another creative way
Mysterious mantis is now flying freshly free
Nefarious tentacles swiftly and firmly grab me.
Ostrich in top hat lets out an exasperated sigh.
Purple eggplant pinnacles decorate a warm pie.
Quivering chimps travel in a new outer space.
Responsible llama queens are running in place.
Striped horse pretends now to be a zebra.
Twirling in Africa with a shiny ameba.
Underwater feelings with her weird hums
Vision quests brought on by Cherokee drums.
Walrus and whales summoning a great white shark,
‘Xtraspecial playmates whistling in the autumn dark.
Youth spreading coffee cake around to annoy.
Zealots persuading no one of their frenzied joy.
What does it mean to be a dream? To lose yourself in the veil of forgetfulness,
Moments after you were born from the dust of past time,
Unraveling the thread of the story, piece by piece, without order,
Trying to grasp the meaning but never fully knowing it.
Some dreams throw me into the middle of a cold and desolate desert,
Sweating and gasping for air that seems a mirage.
I slip on ice hard as stone, yet fragile as a dream,
Which shatters and throws me into warm, steamy waters.
Submerged under frozen ice, in a strange desert,
My floating body feels no pain, only silence,
While the one on the bed dreams in the dark room,
A dirty and empty room, like a lost heart.
In my mind, a desperate cry demands release,
A pain pulsing like an echo of hidden guilt.
I silence the cries with tears and brute force,
Binding it in chains, only to weep in isolation.
The poor soul hopes that one day I might free it,
But it doesn't know of my love for emptiness and silence.
Every night, it shows me elaborate paths of torture,
Grotesque and tormenting methods, yet I do not change.
When the sun rises, with tears in red eyes,
I lie motionless on the bed soaked with dreams and dirt.
I sew my heart only to have it torn apart again,
And I wonder, what does it mean to be a dream to you?
Original nursery rhyme ~ Old King Cole
“Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he;
Oh there’s none so rare, as can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three"
My original parody
Old King Troll had a very long pole
And a very long pole had he
He called for his wife (she’s his trouble and strife)
And he called for his mistresses three
King Troll sat in the middle …his wife said you’re on the fiddle
This fact King Troll couldn’t deny
All the women took a swipe at him
and gave him a black eye!
Alexis challenged me to do a parody of Old King Cole nursery rhyme
10~03~16
New Poem
Old King Troll was out of control
An Internet stalker was he
He sat at his desk (he was really grotesque)
And he made lives a misery
With computer sites he’d fiddle, (only leaving for a piddle)
He would lurk there for many hours
The cops finally caught up with him
And now he’s put behind bars!
Poem re written 10~23~16
Least Viewed Contest
Sponsored by Marugu Mo
10~23~16
My dear eagle,
I do not abhor you, though I may have spat your name with bitter curses
We are bound in the same chains
Just because you do not struggle
Because you cannot feel them bite against your neck
Does not mean they are not there
You think you are like them because you fly
You think you are closer to a god on Olympus
Than a man, chained forever to the ground
But we men see, and so to do the gods, that you are more mortal than those you rip each day to pieces
You say you are free,
But do you choose each day to consume me?
To tear my liver from my body,
to decimate your own brother
Do you do this out of love for your uncaring master?
Or because you know, deep in your chest, that if you do not it will be you who lies in my place
Limbs splayed in agony
Gut a grotesque display for those who watch from below
A cautionary tale
But let me tell you, my dear eagle
Though I suffer, still I smile
For the spark I stole cannot be extinguished
The wisdom I shared cannot be forgotten
It spreads across the earth, a quiet blaze
The people’s rage
Is not for you, but for your master
He who clips your wings with your pitiful consent
Though you, like so many, masquerade as a god you can never be
Harm your people as the gods do to protect from their own wrath
I, like so many, despite this futility, raise my chin
And spite the gods with undying breath
cuddled too close to
the warmth
and with a twist and groan
the beautiful grotesque
knitted curls and creepy fingertip tendrils
beneath elastic stretched bark skin
What if gods own punishment was to see everything else die
and what his crime
turn left and right
and take a deep breath
now let the mirror catch your eye
no inhumanity
if we get rid of all the humans
watch the rain droop beneath the welcoming withered
whim of whispering willow
I remember you could tell my auntie was in by the sound of her hum
Gave up being human
Dared to be a tree
people where their hair in fear of me
Wait that's the wrong wear
were wolf
There there's wolf
Which how i con
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port ahead
its time for you to leaf
The ghosts of past misdemeanours haunt me
chaining me to misery and greed,
a grotesque whispering of witless guilt
that stifles the sublime of the soul.
Damned demons howl around me,
frolicking in a deadly dance,
trying to put an incision on my brow :
“This miscreant belongs to us.”
The night grows nasty and terrifying,
wolves wail a woeful weeping song,
abominable bats blast off sucking blood,
and putrid smells block my nostrils with decay.
Suddenly a wayward wind dispels the clouds,
stars shine brightly up above.
A full moon shines through darkened trees,
a ray of mercy envelops my soul.
Hope lights my suffering soul.
I remember my mother's advice.
God created you to love and be loved.
Who can love me? I ask.
Why He who created me....and you!
There's a party going on at the crib of Frankenstein.
Chicken necks on the grill, on which they would dine
and hot sausages made from the innards of swine.
Frankie called it a tea party, but served cheap wine.
They wore a Covid mask over each grotesque face
except to eat sardine sandwiches on the staircase.
When witches arrived, wearing gowns of black lace,
Dracula bit their necks, blood was all over the place.
A werewolf howled as the moon reached full height.
Monsters were dancing the tango on tables tonight.
Frankie was tossing his body parts into the fireplace,
screaming, "Why did he give me such an ugly face?"
Things were getting out of hand when I saw the Blob.
He was flirting with Frankie's girl, whose name is Bob.
She slapped his jowly face and called him a slimy slob.
Frankie was the monster she loved... her heartthrob.
Predator and other Aliens were showing up quite late.
King Kong came with Alice in hand, they decided to date.
Godzilla showed up angry and threw around his weight.
He broke all the good china before his rage could abate.
Frankie kicked them out and then angrily raised his fist
To a hoard of Zombies who were trying to do the twist.
Monsters at a tea party proved they could not coexist
So Frankie erased all their names from his mailing list.
September 24, 2021
Frankenstein Tea Party 2021 Contest
Sponsored by Joe Maverick