Long Harassed Poems
Long Harassed Poems. Below are the most popular long Harassed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Harassed poems by poem length and keyword.
The museum is full of gangs,
child gangs that roam sneering at the 70’s people.
The 70’s people live now in a diorama.
For the most part they are cheerful,
they cut grass with push mowers,
swim in above ground pools.
By and large they don’t kill each other
or pillage the Malls.
Some are vets with grey ponytails -
they ride to forget.
The 70’s people that lived in New York
pretend not to have been there back then
and take long meditative soaks in crude
high rise jacuzzies.
Behind the glass
the 70’s people mechanically wave
at the hordes of sneering children.
A young questioner asks his handler
why the 70’s people are not all dead?
A reasonable question
which the handler deflects
with a long tale about dinosaurs.
Meanwhile the 70’s people
peer out of their mid-century homes
and watch the foot traffic
as if it were an older black and white TV.
The young are getting bored with the 70’ people.
they move on to stare incredulously at a representation
of humankind back in the 60’s.
The handlers also cannot quite believe their eyes,
they explain that though there are many artifacts
of that previous civilization
experts disagree as to origins
and the strangeness of their bygone lifestyle.
Salem Alabama and Woodstock
are small print on a sign no one reads.
The kids are hungry and whine loudly,
the school-outing is a bust so far.
Harassed handlers usher them into a cafeteria
where they slaughter the air
with a wolfish glee.
A few Jeer at an 80’s person
who has wandered into the wrong room.
You walk through the metal detector
You look at me with a deep seated scorn
You loath that I made you remove your stuff
You had to take off your shoes belt and jewelry
You’re thinking “I’m no criminal or terrorist so why me”
I am only doing the job the government requires of me
I am not the reason you are harassed and had to partially strip
I do empathize with you seeing I have to do the same thing too
No one cares that I am a Screening Officer I am searched when I travel
The government says what’s good for the goose is good for the gander
You want to get mad at someone then look in the right direction
The ones who blatantly took the lives of our families and friends
Who took the choice of traveling to most places away forever
Who took the privilege of carrying most things on board away
The freedom to travel with our liquids and gels peanut butter and jam
Don’t blame me because I am risking my life to keep you safe
Don’t blame me for someone not caring about your fate
Don’t blame me for what Mr. Harper and Mr. Obama says
Or for what the UK says is their Standard Operating Procedures (SOP)
Don’t blame me I am just the messenger that holds many lives in my hand
Left me at dusky crossroads
Undressed me amidst of the wild road
He stripped my innocence…
Felt a night of violence.
Harassed my weakness with his strength,
Whipped with agitation of his length.
Pleading to say stop but he’s deaf.
Crying out loud all by myself.
Fought him to death but was battered.
Almost killed me and left me tattered…
Badly want to shout but no one was there
This grudge is all I want to spare…
Tormented me and felt so helpless.
Unseen justice made me so lifeless.
Survived the nightmare and cruel danger,
Hope I haven’t trusted that young stranger
You got it in your head it’s okay to make up excuses
you’re only letting me down proving yourself to be useless
continuously lie until your lie is accepted
left feeling uncomfortable when your lie is rejected
every year on my birthday you do exactly the same
building up to it coming but on the day it’ll change
a last second situation will arise just the same
and you won’t be coming because you’re busy again
when really you’re selfish and fear honesty
making out that you’re helpless always lying to me
so I don’t invite you that way you cannot drop out
still you say you are coming and there isn’t a doubt
but then on the day the unseen comes about
expect me to waste time hearing lies out your mouth
even though I ain’t asked you and never I cared
you start telling me lies I thought I would be spared
it bothers I’m nonchalant to the story you’ve shared
like you need me believe you the reasons why you won’t be there
so you follow me around and keep repeating the lie
as I say I don’t care before saying goodbye
so you can get on with what you need to tonight
but you reappear many times through the night
when you’re supposed to be busy you appear in my sight
so you’re here to tell me why you cannot be here
and as it’s my birthday I’ve no desire to hear
but you’re annoyed at the effort that this lie is creating
I don’t seem to accept it as I say you are faking
insanity is when you expect a different result
but you carry on lying each time’s an insult
I’m in a club at this point you appear at the door
demand I come outside to hear you lying once more
but I don’t come quickly it’s my birthday I’m sure
when I go outside you’re angry at me to the core
because I took too long and it’s me you’re here for
I’m wasting your time as you say the same as before
all of your focus is on me believing your lie
until it’s achieved you can’t go home satisfied
and get stoned out your face the true reason that you lie
annoyed that I don’t believe you and that I never asked why
think you’re my best mate and can do what you like
making it clear you’re only selfish inside
treating me worthless as you repeatedly lie
but you weren’t invited and have harassed me all night
you only think about you I want you out of my life
Centaurs
~*~
In Greek Mythology monsters come in all shapes
sometimes hideous and strange . . . often representing
the dark forces in life, creatures such as Centaurs-- part
human and part horse, they are man's unruly, instinctive
nature, less awesome that demons . . . they still harassed
and haunted humans. They had the head, arms and chest
of a man but the legs and lower half of a powerful horse.
These man-horse beasts led a lustful, drunken and savage life
and were fond of riotous revelries often writhing in fierce battles
with wild brute force . . . raping, killing humans for meat.
The wise Centaur, Chiron was a unique case-- he was learned
in music, medicine, hunting and war. He was friend to Apollo,
and Zeus, loved, admired and honoured by all the great gods.
He was noted for his gentleness and kindness and wisdom. . .
tutor to Greek heroes. When he died Zeus set him in the night sky
as the starry constellation known now as Centaurus.
____________________
June 5, 2013
Poetry/Narrative/Centaurs
Copyright Protected, ID 06-483-485-05
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Mythological Creatures or Birds
sponsor, Shadow Hamilton, Judged 06/18/2013
Ninth Place
The Occupiers
Outside, the only road in my village
a horde of carts pulled by skinny horses full of furniture and children
demanded access.
Our great grandfathers built this house we have
the right of return.
I contemplated giving them the shed but knowing they would
demand a larger part of the house, thought it best to resist
my thought of being kind.
The people outside were of Roman ancestry and had lived
in this area for hundreds of years and had been harassed wherever they went
It was time to take back the village and the right to defend ourselves
I rang the police, fifty officers came and disbursed the crowd
and a guard post erected at the entrance.
I normally have a liberal heart, but in this case, I had no empathy
by those who tried to make me homeless
I went to the DMV office the other day
For, I received an urgent notice of traffic violation
That came promptly to me as a text message
For me to take immediate resolution action.
I was told there again about repeated offence
And the amount of money I had to pay as fine
Being a very careful driver I expressed wonder
If the vehicle involved was really mine.
I checked the vehicle number once again
Verified from the employee the owner’s name
Told the man the vehicle didn’t belong to me
Unknowingly, I was made a party in a cheating game.
This bloke, a cheat didn’t use his mobile number
Instead he entered mine in his vehicle’s record
I told DMV man I was harassed for mistaken identity
For, to pay the fine maybe the blighter couldn’t afford.
____________________
February 10, 2022
Contest : DMV Poetry
Sponsored by : Matt Caliri
Let me give you some advice
It is mean, not very nice
To call someone unfair names
Remember we are all the same
Please don't be insensitive
If we all just try to give
Consideration and love to
Everyone we can pull through
All this hate and bullying
That others will always bring
Into someones life because
Their love is different than us
Giving their heart to the same
Sex as they are, it's a shame
They can't live in happiness
Giving partners a kiss
Without judgement while in public
It is hurtful and so sick
Bullying goes on like this
No one should feel this wrath
They just want a clear life path
To love freely and hold hands
With someone who understands
How it feels because they
Are being harassed the same way
I will say it once again
Love is love, it will not end
We all deserve to find true love
Without being pushed and shoved
One day I would like a world
Which didn't pitch and hurl
Remarks that are rude and obscene
Come on people keep it clean
Just because your eyes might see
Someone different than you might be
Don't start throwing out the words
That should never ever be heard
No Longer Valid
A once proud nation now grovels in the sand
Liberal emasculation in the mother land
No reward for achievement, effort ignored
For each lazy American a participation award
While one barely feeds his family by working each day
Let’s give the one lying on the couch an equal day’s pay
No longer valid the value of life
Child is butchered by the surgeon’s knife
Just bow your head an accept your role
While socialist views take their toll
No leadership shown to turn back the tide
Apathy sold to those along for the ride
Integrity gone without leaving a trace
Blatant corruption just spit in your face
No longer valid incentive denied
No freedom of speech, a gag law applied
Once universally respected the home of the brave
Now a settlement for a new kind of slave
Actors and athletes adored by the press
Just lie on the couch in a state of undress
No moderate leaders, a country cursed
No longer valid, America first
Traitors are praised while patriots harassed
Congressional ethics a thing of the past
Liberal repression of opposing views
Media no longer reporting unbiassed news
Promoting hatred, bigotry and mutual mistrust
Demeaning the victim and defend the unjust
Political figures not what they seem
No longer valid, the American dream
Copyright (C) Vince Suzadail Jr. June 2018
Potent grief exists in the paternoster
recited by exiles each break of dawn —
and they never cease to mourn with drums.
Exiles are men
with two lives,
and they often fast,
preferring to sip gently the treacly sap
dripping from the eyes of fortitude.
Riding the thin line
of the horizon,
they seek truths underneath
receding rims of the atmosphere —
the truths
of a desolated homeland
atrophied by distance.
They do not pray
only to return home,
but to meet their mothers’ funerals —
Mothers harassed to death
by ruthless authorities
whose diaries speak of languor.
How do pirates with their eye patches
count the stars,
and how do feathers of thinning clouds
react to the invasion of rioting storms?
Exiles are native drummers
gone for a festivity yonder.
Like the dead, they live in the
hearts of those who truly love them.