Long Ill luck Poems
Long Ill luck Poems. Below are the most popular long Ill luck by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ill luck poems by poem length and keyword.
How cool to sway naïves unaware,
Cooler still, a man of ken fair,
Even a wall were I persist,
Not one— a half-wit puffed with air!
How pundits are plagued with spite’s tide,
Powerful with over-spilling pride,
Green horns nigh uninitiated,
Vexed, my verses had once decried.
One may from a croc’s jaws get free,
May sail across a maddened sea,
Wrap a cobra around his neck,
How hard to please one, fool that be!
Not so hard to get oil from sand,
Quench thirst off mirage in parched land,
Even to fetch a rabbit’s horn,
How hard to bring round a ham hand.
What fascinates: world’s attitude,
In other’s ill luck feeling good—
Schadenfreude and a Freudian glee,
How world’s today stuck with the crude!
___________________________________
Tongue-in-cheek |06.05.2022|
Fascination and Awe Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jeff Kyser
Disappointments of life, are but a part.
Joining together, breaking my heart.
Expectations of life seems hopelessly far
Mingled with ill luck is my emotional war
The words of love you would like to hear
From someone so precious,who hardly cares
How longer can I bear this terrible pain
When you are always losing, and nothing to gain
Here I am in my melancony hour
Feeling so blue, drowned in unbearable sorrow
What a beautiful Christmas this would have meant
If a post card she cared to have sent
Wherever you are, wherever you may be
Wish you we re here, just thoughts of fantasy
Warm tender feelings of you I'll always possess
Until those heartaches has brought my soul to rest
I
Anisha Dutta
Are you crazy?
Are you lazy?
Are you drowsy
In your dark days?
I am dynamic.
I am energetic.
I am optimistic
To confront darkness.
Are you bewildered?
Are you puzzled?
Are you confused
When life is dark?
I am aspirant.
I am confident.
I am competent
To overcome ill luck.
Are you morbid?
Are you aggrieved?
Are you scared
Surrendering as a slave?
I am the soldier.
I am born fighter.
I am the warrior
Even brave in the grave.
Must Be Read Contest
Sponsor Silent One
Fifth place in contest
Paraskevidekatriaphobia logical as any other phobia right?
Superstition(s) stubbornly linger
impossible to shrug off
(cue Atlas) courtesy pointer finger
regarding Friday the thirteenth bringer
o' ire rush ill luck cue fountainhead gargoyle
nsync with ominous grateful dead singer
uneasiness drilled into collective
conscience since time immemorial
equally puzzling me as harbinger
of spilt salt tossed over left shoulder,
into the face of Devil who lurks
snapping unsuspecting bystander
fast as ginger.
Secular humanists, viz case in point
yours truly, who finds himself
flexing falange joint
as iterated above unable to pinpoint
despite persistent atheistic viewpoint
even when rash of unfortunate events,
whereby sizable tin of yard did anoint
me noggin than hours later dog
canine sank teeth into flesh to reanoint
(handily) these events eyepoint
out occurred 1300 hour August 13th
two thousand nineteen
funeral for William Zison
(late father in law) whose spirit
supposedly, securely, satisfactorily...
passed barred underworld checkpoint.
One (or I), could pick an arbitrary past
month day combination cast
amidst travails, yet fast
as quirky forgotten
mishaps occurred, I long last
forgot unpleasant mishaps vast
among pooled countless
circumstances that did blast
temporary woe out classed
courtesy aforementioned painful
bodily injuries leaving me aghast.
Generally (figurative) speaking
I tend to shrug off (think Atlas)
unexpected misfortune that did bring
momentary such as abby (a bee)
thee wife with painful sting
generating speculation how life fared
if assertiveness prevailed,
when ding a ling
interpersonal opportunity doth ring
regretting forsaking MaryAnne Sage,
whose strengths regarding
compatibility (she shared a string
of characteristics) regarding same birthdate
and square thumbs as
one garden variety generic
NON GMO and gluten free Joe King.
There at once looms a lethal disease
Across the globe begins to breeze
Taking its toll on the old and young
Flings the whole world into unease
Danger impending, little chance to duck
Everyone ruffled, nervous, and in shock
Afraid of others, chary to mingle
Damning this pouring pestilent ill luck
Panicked public storm the stores
Grabbing disinfectants in scores
Masks are scarce, so is alcohol
Unmasked la-di-das behave like boors
Some authorities use all their might
To appease people’s pains and plight
Some tell big lies to their people
And are too dark to light the night
On the up-and-up, working nonstop
Medical staff always on the hop
Risking their lives, wasting their limbs
To save thousands in rescue op
It was the plague in the days of yore
That mercilessly killed of rich and poor
Now Covid 19 seems to reign supreme
In scaring man maybe even more
Yet this too shall pass thanks to the mettle
Of all the scientists who will not settle
Until they ascertain the proper cure
And take off man’s side, this biting nettle
But worries won’t cease. Only, they change
They’re so diverse and broad in range
Global, national, personal, or what?
Momentous, petty, or even strange!
Hurriedly enroute to her royal majesty
porcelain goddess throne
whereupon earlier today
March 28th, 2022,
after incomplete defecation
sitting pretty on pissoir,
I jiggled and wiggled posterior
(analogous to performing
the bum bared hustle)
until gasping for breath
though unable to shake loose
dangling dingleberry yours truly
nevertheless synchronously praise zing
a mostly functioning sphincter muscle.
Gross and smelly
as human excrement considered
expelling fecal matter comprises
important function, whereby any unspent
ingested material shunted
thru alimentary canal
then spewed courtesy sphincter vent.
**** lies zing constipation
and/or stubborn stuck drek
nothing to poo poo about,
cuz when bedeviled by
colorectal obstruction,
no matter emetics
applied with bonafide clout
without wasted doubt,
that malodorous, maleficent
malevolent malady
body electric doth flout
analogous to uranus
clogged with grout,
whereat no heroic
efforts break loose,
the severely obstructed bowel,
thus spurring determined,
desperate derriere plea
for proctologist sought
to relieve constipation
equipped with a special
"J" shaped, hooked,
and designed dowel
in an effort
to pry stoppage
if/when yours truly constipated
jamming up human cloaca,
where rock solid stubborn
immovable turd emits foul
gaseous emanations accompanied
with a$$ a nine growl
followed by red hot,
fiery excruciating spasms
shooting jagged pain
inducing yours truly to access,
the werewolf within howl,
where a preference for sciatica,
in place, but my ill luck
regarding aforementioned plight
merely naming said nerve pain
accursed affliction arises
analogous to parasite malefactor thieve
ving would be
equally unpleasant and offer
absolutely zero reprieve
along heinie kin cheeky jowl,
thence finding me
resorting to peeve
hush scream therapy,
which wrought nothing,
no pain did re: leave
me bummed out bum,
but veins snapping,
popping, and crackling,
utmost effort I forcefully heave
oye how aye did grieve
plus a bajillion
gallons of perspiration,
while lower gastrointestinal
agonizing torture didst cleave
entire abdominal
area please believe
without aforementioned crisis,
and feeble poem,
I could not achieve.
l let her love me first
from the beginning
I was at the first position
from the very start
I love easy
I love faster
from the early stage
am always ahead
ahead of the girls
yet
too much love
brings me too much
grieves
from the first
experience of love
I was always left
heart broken
and now
I realise a change
that was my remedy
so now I write a short
biography of love
in change
I let her love me first
cos too much love
has cost me too much
Cry's
am not greedy
am not selfish
but old experience
brought me to search
a way to change
my ill luck
I let her love me first
cos that was a security
to trade my love again
a secret I protected
till I finally fell in love
again
and now we are best
two in love
with a bound of trust
in the midst of every challenge's
we survive strong
till she left me heart
broken in death
rest in peace
my love
I always adore you
I know you are in
a better world
I know you are better
I miss you
and I swear that will
take eternity
love could be sow
when the one you love
turns invisible
it tortures
it hurts
and that cant change
nor kill an existing love
before she became
invisible
I hope she accept
my little biography
I know she will smile
to read them
cos I loved her a lot
despite at the beginning
I let her love me first
Ill fated
Life was so smooth
until one condemned evening
They bundled her up in a van
and then took to a deserted place,
She could sense her misfortune
to their sarcastic smiles,
A sense of hatred and agony
watered clear in her helpless eyes,
Treated as a vegetable
for no fault of hers,
Stripped of her modesty
was it a male pride ?
Five of them and her subtle being,
not a stitch on as the body shivered bare,
Hunger for flesh, scarring the soul,
wonder her strength to survive that scare,
Not a human being, she was just a consume,
rights can we talk as insane hooligans roam ?
Pity them for the crime not so heinous ?
or punish for murder of the soul as well ?
Unconscious they threw her on road to die,
to hospital she was taken by a passer by,
There was no end to the ill luck,
label of a rape victim dumbstruck,
Inquests, courts and then the ugly game,
in name of law, it was such a shame,
Her bubbly heard bled, stabbing cry,
Ripped soul could heave no sigh,
An year now, guilty roam free as tears burst,
as if females are born to quench their thirst,
Why not teach our sons to respect ?
Ill fated or is it our bringing up neglect ?
Quick justice the need of the hour,
she is no lust, she is a man's power,
Can sons ever prosper at daughters' price ?
Hold the flame high against gender crime rise !!
Written Sept 12th, 2015
For Charlotte's "controversial" contest
dedicated to all brave victims- lost or won the battle, but have given a tough fight.
I spent so many lonely days,
many even lonelier nights,
asking of myself
the whys and wherefores
of this terrible life.
To suffer such ignoble pains,
to be unjustly accused
of things I had not done.
I searched and sought
for reasons unknown.
Did I deserve such a life?
Or should I count the blessings,
a handful of good times?
Should I be content
with what I've received?
Can I say I'm incomplete?
That I have not achieved?
Or is there a balance somewhere
that is forever eluding me.
Do I double count ill luck?
Do I half the good old times?
I must at least be sincere-
evaluate my life complete.
Yet if it's peace I seek
I must remember
that it is not for me
to ask why this, why that,
rather admit that happiness
comes only if we accept and say
"Thy will be done".
Then I'll need to trek
uncharted roads,
fall into dark ravines;
meander through ugly days,
loiter through dreary solitary nights.
For I shall find all comfort:
the sadness I left behind.
If
we win,
we feel glad.
Ill-luck is faced,
the losers become
sad and disappointed.
Either winning or losing,
Nothing is permanent in life.
Let's realize this amazing truth.
Then we can remain joyful forever.
E Forms- Etheree - Poetry Contest
Etheree poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Syllable Count: PS
Date: 15-02-2022
PLACED: 3rd