Long Hedonistic Poems
Long Hedonistic Poems. Below are the most popular long Hedonistic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hedonistic poems by poem length and keyword.
tens of thousands years ago
(a figurative out in left field ball park figure)
*****Sapiens (or the forebears of said species),
deliberately sought sensate satisfaction
with deliberate zeal
shucking clothes
(perhaps just an animal pelt hiding pubes)
answering (on a private line),
the call of the wild,
not yet verboten feral common weal
way before the identification of venereal
disease (though most likely
germinal forerunner), yet to rank
as demise forecasting deterministic,
fetishistic, hedonistic inviting
Gonorrhea, Herpes, Syphilis, et cetera to an unveil
ling, then (of course) average life span
of primate predecessors brief, nasty, and short,
thus demise from sexually transmitted disease
unlikely the cause of death,
nor spelled catastrophe that would seal
the fate of mankind unlike the here and now,
when the Apocalypse Israel
aside from conflagration
decimating Rohingya's, Uighur's, Yazidi's,
countless other minority populations
severe distress they feel
plus Middle Eastern countries got a raw deal
subjected to their own variety of slaughter,
which genocide ranks as Syria us injustice
calling for immediate appeals,
injunctions, sanctions humanitarian appeal
against inhumane abominations,
terrorization, violations
rather than passively witness
innocent lives being trumped.
The Silver Surfer – (born Norrin Radd) -
wow, with his metallic skin,
I’m jealous of his surfing aircraft
It’d be so great to take out for a spin.
That Silver Surfer – of a humanoid race
was born in Zen-La. A great astronomer was he.
He did not like how hedonistic his world became.
Here’s the tale of what he came to be.
There was a space invader whose name was Galactus.
The planet Zen-la he wanted to devour.
Radd sought other worlds for his foe Galactus.
And for that, Galactus gave to Radd such mighty power.
At first the Surfer found for Galactus worlds devoid of life
until that evil one began to grow
more greedy. Then he wanted the Surfer to help him take the earth.
He fought the F F, but a lovely blind girl he came to know.
The girl convinced the Silver Surfer to turn against Galactus.
By doing this, he was our friend, but new things were in store.
Another time, he terrorized our earth and then got struck down.
His life was a series of “ups and downs” with the Fantastic Four.
Creating his own energy and needing not to sleep - as the Surfer
he had so many powers, but there were times he failed; his luck would cease.
Sadly, it’s been told that he clawed himself for lack of oxygen.
In “Ruins” his corpse was found afloat in space. May he rest in peace.
Feb. 18, 2023
For Robert James Liguori's Marvel Superhero Or Supervillian Poetry Contest
Plunged to terrain plagued, tasty female options
Surge of adrenalin pulses choices unsuitable
Piquant aroma pulls him closer, allure accosting
Sentient favours solacious flower so beautiful
Hurtled descent drops watchful onto hillock haze
Swayed seed laden willow heads have halos
Hedonistic impulse picks silken stems with craze
Seraphim surround a torn aura in dewy daos
Preordained mistake palates spasmed heartbeat
Shrews drawn to Stu allude to transformation
Prurient dripping pores warble wanton indiscreet
Strident serpentines permit desire incubation
Heathen has escape, wrapped parachute harness
Preparing his tortured innards for due launch
Hazards bring unbridled enthusiasm for newness
Pride hides a tarnished ego, attempts reforge
11th February
Whenever waking,
Lady tailor making
The endgame
And the cemetery was
nowhere to be found
yet was so present
in the shallow depth
the graveyard of the mind
No tombstone unturned
fragmented torn and twisted
sorrow flowing down
encrypted alleyways
and Thanatos’ call
Searching to imprint
coffin’s nails on seams
of muddy icy prison
hammered chiselled avenues
creeping through and in
Dead alive and collocated
hell firing place and time
scorching cementing
looming crossing overs
to where and when to how
No monument just
monumental nothing
void oppression
endless loop’s demise
thoughts emotions dragging
Torrential thunders
roping in electrocuted lightning
nooses from the tree of
living emptied darkness
flowing rapids standing still
The cemetery awaiting
ashes urns and vultures
presiding over Ganges Styx
Caron caring like a
lifeless Buddha saddened
Giving taking suffering
unthreading tapestry graffiti
splashing on the canvass
sombre art in progress
oscillating back and forth
The reaper harvests harshly
the mindless soul and body
crumbling bones infested
carbons desiccation apathy
hedonistic pleasures dull extinct
Gravitation nudges wild
and gently roaring
culling sculls foreclosing scooping
offerings burthens memories
premature un-furbished epitaphs
Silent roaring rampant syncopal
admonished synergetic resolution
teasing fool and morbid jester
luring loosening resolve
apprehending lithographic scribes
And the cemetery blinding
obvious and for the taking
present not yet for embrace
remains a silhouette on the horizon
and life for now is stronger
May 18th 2016
Contest entered:
And the cemetery was... Broken Wings
Edvard Munch
An Ekphrasis Stylized Poem of Jealousy
Oh, ancient Oden!
I summon your primitive hand.
Take this oiled brush I hold,
and order my strokes with your command.
With deep red, spilling like blood across the land,
she appears as the object of my affection,
nude and reaching toward a tree
as if to lure my enemy, with want and lust-filled attention.
Is there reason, lord, why my foe is portrayed in Crayola-like imperfection?
Is he to be, Newfoundland, and she as Norway with Viking confiscation?
And are the greens not depicting my envy,
a reprieve from the harsh white lands of Greenland?
And now you insist… I portray myself, or maybe Leif,
or perhaps a Christian King!
Why do you torment me so?
Why can’t I just let this brush go, before a Berserker I become,
to seal my fate through fires run,
across my own pire I’ve tried to overcome,
and on success blazoned before the cross, to be succumbed?
Once filled with hedonistic jealousy, in my exhaustion,
I am finally outrun,
back into the green Norse woods I retreat, weak and numb…
to mend my wounds, and lust for your power hence come,
to paint another day.
by Martin Braun
July 11, 2023
Listen up, folks, 'cause here's my confession,
I ain't one for modesty or discretion.
I'll tell you straight, without any delay,
What I truly adore, come what may.
It's hedonistic pleasure that I seek,
With every passion that I choose to peak.
I push the limits, go beyond the light,
And sometimes it scares the folks in sight.
But when the day is done and the night's begun,
I'll tell you, friend, it's all for fun.
The sun will rise and the world will shine,
And I'll be out there, living it up, feeling fine.
So don't you judge or try to reign me in,
'Cause this is who I am, and I always win.
My love for life is sweet and true,
And nothing, no one, can bring me down or subdue.
:: 03 26 2023 ::
Where is the nation once united under God?
Broken is the moral compass that guides her.
The people sleep while the devil is at play
like a fattened calf, we are ripe for the slaughter.
The sky has darkened across the heartland of America
the clouds weep tears of anguish, the earth crumbles.
Where are holy words of prayer, now muted in fear?
The law of the land usurps the will of the people.
Shall we passively drink at the fountain of compromise?
Waters of right and wrong are muddied in ambiguity.
May we rise up on behalf of our families and freedoms
be a voice for the helpless cries of the unborn holocaust.
Let us not let our land turn into a massive landslide
or fall unwittingly into an abyss of hedonistic ruin.
For, united, we can break the strongholds of the evil one
and take back our land, for "In God We Trust".
Written on 7/28/2015
A perpetual smile,
Inviting, but enigmatic
It played on her lips.
Her eyelashes fluttering
Strands of wet hair
Neatly falling
From shoulder down
Covering her
Irresistible heaves
Her bosom bare
Flashes of skin,
Milky white
From under the water,
Peeping mischievously
For those to see
But what’s this!
Couldn’t miss
A dark patch,
A mismatch?
No, no very slight
Somewhere in
The voluptuous middle
Left deliberately
Almost temptingly
The bends, the curves
Hedonistic pleasure served
Her oomph,
A perfection
Is she the one,
We had read of.....
The nymph
Of an idyllic world
Gorgeously lying
In a bath tub
A bit spread out,
A bit curled?
When we compare the numbers
and percentages of innocent,
trusting lives lost
in significant part because of Christian
militarized
capitalized
patriarchal
monotheistic judging fundamentalism,
punishing Afghanistan
and other Islamic cultures
over the past four or five decades,
To the number
and percentage of innocent
economically and politically trusting lives
lost in significant part
because of Moslem militarized
capitalized
patriarchal
monotheistic vengeful fundamentalism,
punishing the U.S.
and other NorthWestern Christian cultures
The outsized scale of human
and darkening environmental casualties
in brown Afghanistan
does not redeem Bin Laden's terrifying success
on 9/11.
But, this difference in chronic ballistic stress
does suggest why
a well-capitalized terrorist
was able to garner so much economic
and political support
from those already too familiar
with sudden
tragic
violent loss of family
and friends.
This is not to say U.S victims
and non-victims (should there be any)
asked for vengeful death
nor deserved such tragic
excruciating loss,
But
these same losses
may remind us
we, as a democratically healthy
responsible wealthy nation,
a polycultural society,
could have listened with more extensive
bilaterally compassionate ears
and mass mediated eyes,
to the rapacious horror,
loss,
trauma,
fear,
anger,
hate,
chronic anxiety,
post- and pre-traumatic stress disorder
Perpetuated by militarized
capitalized
patriarchal
monotheistic
dogmatic
RightWing
LeftBrain dominant privilege
elitism
supremacy
autistic autocracy
greedy kleptocracy
dissociative denialism
Doubt in cooperative polycultural powers
of global compassion
love
actively provoking hope,
healthy trust in win/win
global resolutions.
Within these powers
of seasonably healthy reason,
perhaps we could have heard,
as Albert Einstein
so impatiently exhorted,
to do more of the mighty same
of what is tearing us terrifyingly apart,
is our distressing height
of straight white anthroprivileged ignorance.
Written: January 16, 2024
_________________________________________
Ephemeral grave is tangled with gloom,
Putting faith in ethereal womb of doom.
Being without other choice but to exist,
Simply succeed while enigma will persist.
Decreased exertion and surrender of disgrace,
Observe as contrasts come together and embrace.
Lord may lift souls while they are in bliss,
All sources laud benefits of imbibing happiness.
Self-isolation from these events is crucial,
Ample mythologically adorned quilts are brutal.
Geometries persistent digits flicker and tear,
When slight hints fade sparkles may flare.
Say farewell to wailing, sobbing, and conflict,
To grasp, be silent as if one were on a kids list.
If you've had a blind tantrum, crying will ease,
Manage to hold back a few tears and freeze.
An ambiance that exudes the subconscious,
Fosters you to shun the world's vicissitudes.
To grasp the initial deeds of sane conscious,
Bear tweaks to cycles, sites, and attitudes.
Invoke kinetic and spatial faces of happiness.
To gain and claim deep solace with meditation.
When you block out snark and scrappiness
Intrinsic in craziness and disgrace of attention.
You feast on an evil, hedonistic world,
Wealthy and potent live there, trampling poor.
Individuals catapulted, coiled, and furled,
To decay on edge of bliss land as a pest boar
I lost focus and was just lying, living free,
Blindness revealed the demon's void spree.
You can't find peace if you're mired in excess,
Let chaos cease, undo the knot of joy access.
An ailment is reborn in recesses of mind.
Once-ignored psyche is hardly idle behind.
Ancient souls were rekindled—an ardent revival.
Vivid delight is now tinged with teary cheer arrival