Long Imbecilic Poems

Long Imbecilic Poems. Below are the most popular long Imbecilic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Imbecilic poems by poem length and keyword.


Abyss

It's hard
The feigned facade displayed on Caps on my face
The last thing I am is brave
In the dark, I'm everything I am
In the light, I'm everything they want

It's hard
The imposed words gushing from their mouths with the resonance of stamps
Like rules but they are beliefs 
Beliefs that I am something more
Define more? I mean tangible, great... More
Inexorable convictions stamped like fulfilled routines of their daily affairs 
Oh they think I'm a thing!
It's not fair!

Mother's white and perfect dentition spread wide like the gossip of the market women
As I walk down the stairs,
As I exit the interview room,
As I walk into the academic hall
As I anticipate their expectations that it should turn out right
Her smiles are bright but not my psych.

Dad says I stand out and I know I do
But not in the way he assumes
I don't hate to disappoint 
For that is me, it's what I always do.

But what could be at stake? 
The fast growing bubble that may burst
And they get to find out my name, I mean my name
The one weighed by shame
The one I'm afraid to utter
For it may sound familiar to their ears and then go up in flames
With no remains or crumbs for tomorrow 
And I'll hear it for the hundredth time, “i told you so”
Though this time from their lips and not my mind

I wish I could hide behind the closed doors that never opened for me
But somehow the four corner walls of solitary is unsafe for me
I think I'm scared of me
I'm scared that if I succeed, 
I'll be living a sham and not being me
Being accustomed to failure is real.

You believe in me... To set your records straight 
To have the world praise your good name 
for being the saving grace to a person like me
i bet they'd call you great

The last thing I am is brave
In the dark, I'm everything I am
Solace in my weakness as imbecilic as it may sound
In the light, I'm everything they want me to be 
A disguise the insane can bet on and win
Seems not all scars can be hidden.

I acknowledge the abyss
The unflinching defeat that at least brings peace from its stability 
All I can be is me
© Joy Josiah  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Tongue Study

Tongue Study

Tongues
Steady it wags
needing to know
more, about the
the very thing that
causes wars.
peace and pain.
I study my tongue.            
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.

My tongue has delivered
and served, it has given
and taken, it has blessed,
it has cursed.

It has been bitten,
and it has been written,
the tongue can be tied, twisted
curt, sweet, sharp, wagging or
bragging.

It may be your
native tongue
or foreign, it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
"the cat may have it".

If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead, you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.

The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.

Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.

Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
forming positive
or negative energy.

Be careful, mind your tongue
it is closest to your own ears
and will affect you first, rather
before the others hear.

Be not at the mercy of
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown.

Do not despise the
a foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual, do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
or those who can barely
master his own tongue.

In general, I have concluded
whether you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.

I will not justify my tongue
when I use its power for the wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust.

The real power is in
the righteousness
of the speaking tongue.

For those who live by
the sharp and swarded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer.
May also die
by the mighty tongue,
or by the holding of it.!


Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
Form: Ballad

Traduce Tis Trademark Trump's Traitorous

transmitted trashy talks
(partially presented pablum pertaining 
     particularly - president ***** (PAC -
     phallic action cum mitt tee)   
     portfolio playboy philandering)

baneful boorish boastful bullheaded 
     Brobdingnagian beastie boy balks.
conspicuously cavalierly crudely curtly 
     cavorts, capitulating, claiming, 
     championing crying chauvinistic 
     concupiscence, coital cupidity caul
     king crooked cowboy cakewalks.

Donald daringly, dastardly, defiantly, 
     demonstrably, deplorably, deprecatingly, 
     devilishly, divinely dumbfounded, 
     duplicitously desultory, debauched, duckwalks.
eccentric effrontery, egregiously enervating, 
     excitedly exculpatory, extremely evil eyestalk.

"fake," faultily fervently fiendishly flagrant 
     fool, frightful. 
gaffe galling, gamesome gawker, generating 
     gerrymandering. 

harboring hectoring heinously hellishly 
     hideously horrendously horrible hulk.
ignominious illicit ilk, imbecilic immodest 
     immoral impetuous, impishly impudent, 

     incarcerate, incinerate indecently, indecorous, 
     iniquitous, intently intolerant, irascible 
     irksome, itching ii incite iv iiiiii ix intercourse izards.
jowly jackass jackdaw jackknifing jaywalking 
     jumping jerk, jilting jinn.

knowingly keeping kryptonite, kinky Kardashian 
     kvetches, kris kringle ken kool, kissing kitty, 
     kosher kumquats kippered, k-nine kooky korps, 
     kowtowing ku klux klan kinsfolk.

legal leafstalk lawlessly locked, lacerated, 
     lambasted, languished lost lively lust, 
     limped, legal levity limited.
menfolk made macho mission. many moons 
     monthly mandate marked maybe mars, 
     mercurial maladroit monkey manumission modified 
modus mystifying maze moonwalk.

Premium Member Time a Prison

Time – a prison

I see my Daughter’s life, spent in a time capsule,
locked in this prison, a prisoner of her own devices,
waiting for the phone to ring, to bring her to life,
to open the cage door, behind which she keeps herself,
hidden, setting her free for a moment, to run,
with living time, instead of locked up in it,
letting it be her guide, carrying her along.
The moment of life passes, time once again stands still,
as she reincarcerates herself, relegated to that void,
that pain filled space of motionless, lifeless time,
dead time created by, imprisoned by her belief
- in this conman, a man steeped in ********, in lies,
this imbecilic child in a man’s shell -
that it’s love coming from this controlling child / man
fated by, fuelled by the emotions of a child, my Child.

Oh !!!, to turn back the clock, if but I could,
teach my Daughters, they need not, should 
not follow, blindly, the footsteps of us who would 
send them on a journey towards self-destruction,
we, who guided them along without instruction,
we who failed them miserably!!!
That we, be their mother and me. 

B. J. “A ” 2
May 5th  2002

I Hear the Ambulances

so often now
Boris the imbecilic
non party go
cry if you want too
you would cry too
if you happened to you
One kicking cat
one a rapist
i would vow never
to kick a ball again
The cheeks have turned
and i have cricked my neck
Andrew guilty but still they give him shelter
No wonder Harry got to
Fork my lines like a L
------------------------------I----  ------n
---------------------------------g-  ---t----i
-----------------------------------  -h--------n
-----------------------------------  --------------g strike
A Sim
a lea
similarly assimilate a simile
S------------------------e it can get worse
--m-----------------l
---------------i
well going by our history
i am ashamed there is a you and me
i hope the cats and dogs reign
shh there goes another squealing
songs of panic
too late
or just too soon


A Haughty Nation

Haughty Nation 

“They crap in our forest”, a young man yelled
the Roma people had pitched a tent near the woods
where people of this tolerant nation go hunting.
They came here the people from afar to seek work
but are usually met with contempt and mistrust.
They came in the hope of getting a share 
in this nations’ largesse, but ran into racism
unbecoming pride like it was their cleverness 
that brought up oil from the bottom of the sea.
Now, instead of being unassuming, they became  
reactionaries giving pompous advice to less
fortunate countries.
“They crap in our forest”, nourishing an imbecilic 
nation, that due to undeserved riches has lost
contact with reality and a kind- heart- ness.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member She Was Simple Aye

 


And believed people had integrity.
She took their words as verily true
The innocent fool, aye, she has much to rue.

That afternoon, in deep confusion cried,
As though her heart was gnawed by a rat.
She realized she had to live in mortal combat.

To trust never again another living soul.
Slam all windows shut, then chain the doors.
Her belief in her fellow man was never more.

That imbecilic fool, with mind made of mush.
We, here to crush you, making people think you be ill!
While we take joy, preparing your violet-lined coffin!
On a bare, ice-covered, windy, gray hill.





3/7/2023
Form: Rhyme

Baz Ben and Rob Key escape scot free


What the f**k is happening after that Ashes debacle

Not a lot top brass VIP pass don’t give a jot have forgot

Hard to believe they’ve given a reprieve to each rascal

Not down to luck or a blot…but imbecilic systemic rot

Big 3 sitting pretty top of the tree.. Kings of the Castle


Yippee ECB still gives Key backing no need for sacking

The Bazball curse things could haven’t been any worse 

Skill and will seriously lacking OZ sent our boys packing

Perverse but cancelling Brendon’s contract hits the purse


Unprepared scared yet noone cared and all still spared

Excrement insurmountable management not accountable

Naysayers opine like players not down to how they’ve fared

No one’s responsible s**t plans fans say hardly honourable 


Done like a kipper but folks we have heard from the skipper

Expletive laden rant which would embarrass a young maiden  

Our once stellar fella now cinderella finding a glass slipper

Dear reader our broken token leader now somehow awoken

  
Stay chipper nothing to spot here.. trot on big smiley emoji

Self fulfilling prophecy we knew it would be & did foresee

As Baz Ben & Rob Key & their men get off again scot free!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Soul Stance River - 6

Back on the river, forward into the howl of the unknown, 
for three days Sergeant Floyd has been crippled by excruciating pain in his abdomen, 
as the only man here trained in internal medical matters it is incumbent on me to treat him,
Doctor Rush's "Thunderbolt" pills are failing to alleviate the malady
and the ground Peruvian bark hardly sedates Flyod, his agony is bleeding into the eyes,
for 48 hours the rains have been rampant making the river sizzle in cool agitation
the mosquitos are swarming like whispers in a brothel
they are the devil's needles, we resort to spreading lard on ourselves as a repellent, 
ironically, despite the downpours the wind is high at our backs
so the sails are up and we are moving swift as a curse off a witch's lips,

Sergeant Pryor woke on the boat this morning with news of death
his voice didn't wait for breath, the steps of his boots broke open my irritation
after informing me that Charles had recently died,
I believe he expired from a ruptured appendix which we had no remedy for,
he had the soul of a lion, Godspeed to him,
while I slept my spittle smeared the ink in my journal
forming a pictorial omen of a tombstone on the page,
the only question is whom be it for,
Clark has identified a suitable burial place for Flyod on a large hill,
no one speaks, its just the slurp of the paddled water
and a handful of gold finch birds that seem determined to skip on the wind
reminding us that there is always a place for a soul to go,
coming up on the riverbend we are accosted by an armada of geese
so plenty that the trees wish they had that number in leaves,
my Lord, the ruckus these creatures are generating in honking indignance
as they lift into flight is nerve pinching,
its like an army of imbecilic people shouting in panic all at once
yet these geese are noble in their beauty and militant nature
and I see this moment as a sign that no Indians will interdict our passage,

J.A.B.
Form: Epic

Premium Member Wide-Eyed Children

mother star beams, behold her errant brood
  six troubled rocky planets
  the innermost, a dense, two-faced, frosty furnace
  the outermost, pulled apart
  by a distant massive gaseous jovial giant
  the fifth, marred by dust storms 
  red ragged rift-valley scar, enormous pimple
  atmosphere leaking almost gone
  the second, bright but secretive, clouds of deception
  concealed runaway heating
  ........
  the other two, calamitous and extraordinary


  individual but fatally curious
  third and fourth spiral in close
  wild and wayward, so eager and elliptical
  a deadly orbiting kiss
  the smaller sibling is stunned, shattered and shaken
  mass and momentum reduced
  memory wiped, coalesced, captured and condemned
  demoted, demented moon
  gravity bound, bombarded, heavily cratered
  transfixed, compelled to witness
  ........
  momentous mayhem convulsing the tidal companion


  condensing from surface to core, dynamic orb
  mesmeric melt transforming
  rhythmic magnetic field flickers, shielding
  convection and subduction
  radioactive warmth, magma, mantel and crust
  moving land, oceans and ice
  coriolis-driven storms and chemical soup
  then strange organic matter
  evolution, what's this? pin-prick lights, tickling feet
  the moon has a grinning smile
  ........
  from a mini-module, some wide-eyed children have come to play


  canny creatures, evolved, programmed, launched to survive
  trial and error beings
  hopeful genes to be nurtured, cuddled, teased and taught
  transcendent and emergent
  complex beyond their parts, the planet's pinnacle
  challenging older orders
  the chains of certainty, imbecilic greatness
  time-surfing on nature's wave
  promoting intelligence, compassion and love
  bathed in envious moonlight
  ........
  mother star knows her wide-eyed children will leave one day
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

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