Long Impropriety Poems
Long Impropriety Poems. Below are the most popular long Impropriety by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Impropriety poems by poem length and keyword.
Why is it such a big deal to be an avaricious & pernicious alligator and just steal from every creator use all our data and turn even the meek & mild into a wild hater...
"How do we stop the lavatorial plop plop of AI slop
Cull the new crop an arch oligarch march to the top
No behavioural fop to an algorithm making you strop
Don’t be a sop to a pack who hijack a stack on the hop
Pander to your dander by knowing how you do shop
When you gander…. propaganda & slander they drop
This laboratory of hateful oratory is what we all cop
Cohorts sport.. escorts all sorts.. come on chop chop
All about the economy give woke folks a lobotomy op
Forgotten besotten rotten dot com bubble did pop
Impropriety no jobs swap entirety of society will flop
Social media greedier needier seedier stronger gallop
So how do we stay dry of sh*t from on high this AI slop
To stop bottom feeder sly lie then no longer be the mop"
The Obiden Administration is the yeast infection of society.
The improv of impropriety.
The B squad strip club-bullet scarred-in line item
veto
of buffet line, Golden Corral of Megiddo of Communism in the sub zero Winter of our discontent manifest manifesto, with supply lines severed and trucking lines red line crossed white line fevered,
picking up hitch-hikers instead of towing the bill
of more spam, poltical theater,
this time at the border,
Jihad ampetheater.
Where's the oil drilling, refineries, manufacturing (besides lies)
where is the poor and middle class relief?
Where's the Beef!?
Our former lives.
Well its been burned in processing plant fires,
alot of them.
Got Milk?
Got your vaccine?
Get moving this line isn't for gasoline.
Its for booster shots, the other two for media education and guillotines.(I will add this here, so there isn't 1666 characters in the box) now, 1591,
...there, oops it went down again
~Anastastia O....
Back in day (of ma
mum, and perhaps
since time immemorial)
utterances of physicians
nsync with Staff of Asclepius
pounded against floor,
(which wrought
life to entwined serpent,
whose beady
eyed hypnotic power)
understandably
ranked doctors among
near mythical powerful
Gods, who ought
best not be ignored, thus
(then a young Harriet Harris,
now long since deceased)
felt overbearing heft of
medical practitioners final words,
and subsequently would nought
refute, ignore, nor
dispute sacred commandment
hence would n'er be accused
of sacrilegious immodesty,
impiety, or impropriety
(towards medical institution),
and never doubt voice
most supreme in the universe,
thus she felt caught
against challenging authority
meekly surrendered
her only son, bought
with bargaining chip
indubitable faith
in omnipotent equip
ment with hocus
pocus magic to flip
precious life humming along,
or force death grip
upon a lovely boy (christened
Matthew Scott Harris),
at present lapsed beet hip
pea hooping to stave
off crossing the lip
of LX bracket, there
fore reckons a nip
and tuck (think
prefrontal lobotomy),
asper when just a pip
squeak ushered,
where mine existence
could be mortgaged
with accidental,
(or purposeful) slip
of the knife, while
under anesthetized trip
returning minus a mass of
enlarged lymphatic tissue
between the back of
the nose and the throat.
As a figure in history and legend, she is mythic
but was regarded as parasitic and horrific.
She was demonized and dehumanized;
a woman so fiery,
known for notoriety and impropriety;
a mistress of seduction,
corruption and obstruction,
haughtiness and ungodliness.
Banished for not obeying Adam,
she embodied the fears of man:
a symbol of emasculation,
a primordial she-demon.
There is another side to her story.
Perhaps she deserves to be covered in glory.
She was strong and independent
and while facing resentment
for not being subservient,
she was unrepentant.
For many women, she is transcendent;
a figure so mythical
for feminine strength, she is the pinnacle,
her assertiveness: unequivocal.
Her name means "belonging to the night",
but she may be the brightest light
because - her admirers make no apology -
she represents equality.
Plucky, we see the pond
With dervish eyes we bond
Dive in the great beyond
And ooh la la
He thinks she’s quite a dish
Handsome’s her one true wish
Into the sheets they swish
With great oompah
Like thrashing out of sea
Steamy fish feel so free
As who they’re meant to be
Waves wild hoopla
Of two young shades of gray
Whipped up, the seas obey
Oui! Oui! Risqué-parlez*
Midlife’s booya!
The calming of the deep
Married love never cheap
Embraced hearts fall asleep
After hoo-ha
3/15/2018
Mick Talbot’s Violette Poetry Contest
*What’s love without a little French ;)
Pronounced: wee wee risk-ay par-lay
Oui - Yes
Risqué - verging on impropriety or indecency (bedroom banter)
Parlez - Speak
Booya - urban dictionary: hell, yeah
Form:
Title:
Are we all mysteriously
Sinful?
(A lone voice whispers)
In the beginning
Did you secretly
Walk like a curious
Enigmatic Charles Darwin
Looking
Whilst
Lost in Youth
Seeking The Meaning of Sin
To clandestine dark places where
Angels
Without harps
Profusely lambast and
Sing
Searching
Through concealed ancient manuscript and treatises
Seduced by Mistresses and Masters
Of Seductions
By their ever-changing winds
And rhymes
And now
Are you still covertly
Only understood
By a select few
Riding your Pale Horse
Tempestuously
Through lost
Biographies of Old Beliefs
Always on the lookout for engagements
A means to sometimes
Circumvent dark
Carnal release
Or are you still drinking Cool-Aid
From the Matrix’s ever spinning
Propaganda's machine
As the Cosmic Serpent
Of your own Apocalypse
Approaches with such devious guile
Heralding a new divine invasion
Of your own United Nations
So you still dwell in
A new vision of Gilgamesh
Wallowing in previous dark memories of
Sins
Of old encounters and embraces
Of its sensuous
Flesh
Or are you a new lost Nikola Tesla
Lost in the folds of deep personal histories
Overwhelmed
With impropriety and greed
Still seemingly held in check
By fingerprints of
Memories Old Gods
But still always courageously
Praying silently to the skies
Trying to save
Your soul
Always praying someone
Hears you and your deeds and comes down
To intercede
Copyright John Duffy
When you're lying awake with a dismal headache,
and repose is this a state of panic and anxiety,
You've suddenly got to sleep,
when the use of languages is thrown at you, without impropriety;
First, you uncover your toes, and then your
sheet slips demurely from under you.
Then the blankets tickle - you feel like
your in a pickle - so terrible that the feathers
become sharp and prickle.
And you're hot, and you're angry,
you toss and turn till there is nothing,
twist the sheets until their tickling.
Then suddenly the nightwear creeps on the ground in a heap,
and you pick 'em all up in a tangle;
Next the pillows resign and you politely
decline to remain in an unusual angle!
You get some repose in a form of a doze,
with heavy eye-balls and head aching.
But your feeling slumbering teems
Which turn into such horrible dreams
That you'd very much not want to talk about.
In case things turn into a nasty fight,
Well, suddenly you find yourself through the light.
The channel stops crossing.
Then you find yourself tossing.
Aroused by all the surroundings,
It is astounding enough to get your heart pounding.
Being vigilant, in all circumstances when,
you've been driven mad.
With emotions, making me sad.
Avast emotional gulf manifested; courtesy
series of unfortunate events; sundered
biologically accorded, cherished, enshrined
paternal bond; resultant dereliction defies,
justifies, ratifies...dissonance; unbearable
hindsight excoriates impropriety reviewing
dirty deeds done dirt cheap; impossible mission
to excise indelibly etched psychological
impacted repercussions upon mine fountainhead;
weighing excruciating deserved self loathing;
permanently deplorable depravity yoked;
unyielding choke hold, no longer asking
forgiveness, but airing errant culpability;
dada's guilt indefensible impropriety; begetting
permanent fallout; exacting just desserts; bitter
regret beast of burden (oxe see moron) housed
within self made villain; unjust to impinge your
providential opportunities, whose blessed smarts
plus unfettered, unencumbered, undaunted...
daring do promise productive existence par
excellence, versus anxiety riddled torturous
legacy writ large across countenance this papa;
analogously das scribe bing mortal epitaph, while
dark shadows haunt this edgy rusty knight, who
once pawn time shrugged off mischievous
lascivious actions as payback; recognizably erred;
misperceptions (mine); deduced ex post facto,
when the missus doled out unpleasantries;
exploding anger; vented regarding significant
roiling perturbations harkening to her own
unrepentant poisonous stinging toxicity;
delivered courtesy birth parents; hands lack
king awareness to rock cradle with tender
loving care, hence burdened with childhood
tsoris prior to accepting yours truly as life
contra dance partner these preceding xxii+
years avoiding unseemly behavior; aware
that the mother of our two darling daughters
doth love and forgive me, though recouping
similar results with first offspring may remain
tense, and many years past not a happy camper.
July 7th Benevolence
Spies Flawed Sight in Tammuz,
Yiddens’ Tragic Hearing in Av,
Shemiras Einayim, impropriety removes,
3 Middos did Avraham have,
Good Eye, Humble Spirit & Generous Neshama,
Their counter moves:
Ayin Rah from a blind Lev,
Arrogant Spirit, Ala denial of Truth,
Greedy Neshama follow ingratitude does!
Yet thinking your answers give birth,
To the Emes, yields “Gaivahdik” shallows,
Better to grope! … say, “I don’t know!”,
20/20 can be an illusion,
Attending focus is by Anavah,
5 Tammuz 5771 was my stroke intrusion,
Closing my outer eyes is how,
My inner eye yields “Ruchnius” Fusion!
Echad = 13, Unison,
It’s the 13th Anniversary!
Come with me my Brother,
to a secret place where Light and Shadow line the face with fear and grace,
leave sophmoric style, wry smile and sly bile on the road of your forgotten mile,
sick sarcasm is the symptom of envy, a pet to your heart destroyer,
such artifice and malice have no language in this room of roasted dreams,
Enter through the damaged door, touch the destruction of vandals,
you have never been here before, where gold blood cuts the floor,
do you see how the walls move like squalls at our approach,
feel how they tell stories with the sensations of defeat, anxiety, impropriety,
in here we witness a collection of seperate yet synthesized segments of Self,
childhood torment, shallow manhood, virility limp as stolen victory,
underachievement, the underbelly of your arrogance, flacid like placid passion,
We journey further into this gallery of emotional gallows
smelt by the hurt of innumerable adavances
repelled by the demands of Quality,
you will writhe wildly
from the harrowing healing leeching into your concepts of self control,
graceful in absorbtion of Truth's attrition,
fruitless ambition shall now cling as cleaving contrition,
your face Brother, look long into the shimmer of sorrow become the old,
tattooed you are like a snake's skin checkered and beautiful
with scaled episodes of submission and aggression, dying to be Divine,
I want you to know that there is no exit of ease from this place Brother,
we trek within your very Soul,
this is the home and harbor of everything you've decided to be,
there are other rooms here, some of joy and some of strife,
but you leave not the Truth Room of your anger
until the Light finds no fault in your intention -
J.A.B.