Long Inoculated Poems
Long Inoculated Poems. Below are the most popular long Inoculated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Inoculated poems by poem length and keyword.
God touched me
He covered me with His grace
God caressed me
His mercy to me was embraced
for I've been
inoculated with God's everlasting peace
an wavering faith in me has been released
infused with His righteousness
encompassed with His lovingness
Jesus cloaked me in His perfect love
Jesus covered me with His sacred blood
for I've been
inoculated with God's everlasting peace
an waving faith in me has been released
infused with His righteousness
encompassed with His lovingness
for the power in God's hands are unmatched
and can produce a significant impact
to remake, reshape and reform
to amplify, modify and transform
for the Holy Spirit has embellished me
with Its might
so that I can now walk by faith
and not by sight
for I've been
inoculated with God's everlasting peace
an unwavering faith in me was released
Infused with His righteousness
encompassed with His lovingness
God touched me
His infinite grace
then wiped the tears from my face
I'm now
Inoculated with His everlasting peace
an unwavering faith in me has been received
now infused with His righteousness
totally encompassed with His lovingness
remade, reshaped
and reformed
amplified, modified and by the Holy Spirit
transformed
We have a cure! The youngest, cutest, most female of female scientists yelled.
The other ones rolled their eyes and made fun of her.
She was a woman after all and short.
Short people cannot be taken seriously.
I do! I do! She screamed and yelled. Step up! Let me inoculate you!
Get the rats! An old one screamed. Inject them. They are going to die anyway.
Loud snickering. Everyone else. They hated their token woman.
The boss told her to pipe down and act more lady-like.
At the end of the day she had inoculated herself
And the rats and the goldfish.
They were the only ones in the lab
Who survived the CV19 that day.
This "plague" isn't going away anytime soon.
We're openly told this is our new normal.
To bend over and over without any lube.
There's much to be gained by prolonging the pain.
From the made-in-China masks you're wearing.
From the made-in-China parts that go into COVID test kits.
The reds dream of pulling hearts from freedom's chest.
Barbed things are being thrust into our bloodstreams.
One vaccine, concocted from cells of two aborted babies from the seventies...
A boy and a girl, given letters and numbers instead of names.
Just like Jews that were stuffed into Auschwitz cattle trains.
This plague isn't going away anytime soon.
For it's a bonanza for big pharma and conglomerates.
At the deadly expense of the working-class stiff.
While they tell us not to gather in numbers.
The privileged party in Martha's Vineyard.
They released hordes of convicts onto the streets.
To protect THEM from a bug and not us.
They inoculated nursing homes with covid patience
While a mercy ship sat empty in Big Apple Harbor.
Fully equipped with a thousand empty beds...
This Plague isn't going away anytime soon.
Vaccination
I have had my second shot of the vaccine
but with some trepidation, it appears many professional people
refuse to be vaccinated.
Many say it is out of principle or a religious reason
our cleaner, who is in the Jehovah witness, refuses out of religious grounds.
I bet the cleric in the protestant church where the first
to be inoculated, because they do not believe in anything
and lives in perpetual dread of death.
Like some doctors who see their patient die, but not them,
So, they fly in small planes they are not trained for.
When the plane falls from the sky
They say “why me I´m a doctor?”
There was, among the very distant few,
A rose-hip that was hid in desert place.
The few I mean, the greatest lights, and you,
You shone more bright than them, by some strange grace.
You were the rose-hip that inoculated
The spirits and the bodies of the lambs,
That cured and spared and healed, emancipated
The innocents. O, how hard are the jams
We put ourselves into by errant thoughts...
My thoughts, you cannot cure, but sure, I can!
I’ve mastered mine. BAH! You have trials enough.
You’ll find, these troubles, you are greater than.
You will survive it all, have tales to tell.
And sure, lady, I know you’ll do it well!
Why does the heart get all the credit for love?
By so-called affairs of the heart,
that most storied of organs is not unduly inconvenienced.
It beats,
now faster, now slower,
that is all, its task ever unvaried.
But the brain.
The brain is swarmed
by a scream of consciousness,
the amount of work that lands on its desk
swollen by an epidemic of incoming data
as body-wide receptors caffeinated by intimations of love
report frequent sightings of
unexampled beauty followed by euphoric contacts.
Every signal, real or illusory, is taken into custody and interrogated
to determine its authenticity or duplicity.
Every word is a code that needs to be deciphered with a
clear-eyed detachment it can no longer muster.
Every look is transferred to the left side
for facial-contextual-inferential analysis but often hijacked by the right
for the purpose of aesthetic appreciation.
Every scent is identified and catalogued with
a perfumer's olfactory precision.
There are hints to catch,
spats to be postmortemed,
crucial dates to be inoculated against amnesia,
preferences to be recorded, compared, grafted,
model answers to catch-22 questions drafted,
declarations of adoring allegiance crafted.
The subject’s mind is apparently required to be read,
two sets of past, present, future to be crossbred,
blindness to other females pled.
There are virtues to exaggerate to divine proportions,
flaws to modify to virtues with willful distortions,
desires to mollify by counseling patience,
thoughts to be felt,
feelings to be thought,
vertigo to be fought.
Still the to-do list grows,
the repairing of an attention that no longer spans,
the mistaking of what happens to millions of others daily
as a unique personal miracle,
the confusing of being loved with being special,
the projecting of an untested passion into an eternity,
the steadying of feet that has taken to walking on air,
the murdering of ballads meant to be trilled,
and the admonishing
of that nonchalantly speeding heart
to be still.
OSAMA
Obdurate Sadistic abductor as Machiavellian now abashed
Senseless Saboteur with Sabre sword,
Ablutions of wickedness as apology from vagrant
Mercy and peace mixed fleetingly against unprovoked America and the innocents
Abomination of true God explained as religion, hatred, wickedness, murders, and Jihad
Bin
Bigots brewing bestial behaviors before innocent kids,
Inoculated ideas of incorrigible iconoclast and unlettered extremist
Namby-pamby in acts of cruelty, yet, not man enough to face the consequence
Laden
Laden, lackluster, laggard, languid, despising better option
Abnormal spiritual schizophrenia and hallucination
Doctrinal heresies and contradictions shaming Islamic scholars
Exposing the fallibility of the questionable renown “Sacred book of blood and wars”
Now convince us again, that you bring Peace, Love or seek the Prince of Peace
Scarcely are men born
from wombs comfort torn
Cast upon a raging sea
Made up from his family tree
A road bound for unhappiness
Interlaced with varied bliss
taught at time when he is young
to sharpen up his wagging tongue
Should he ever learn to share
He is also taught beware
Hopefully he'll become wise
before he learns to value lies
They'll be schooled in selfishness
Hold to views that they express
Inoculated with this seed
this propagated gardens breed
Still there is some chosen fruit
Chanced to thrive within this shoot
Whose inclination is educated
For their innocence are berated
Highly prized a virtueous treasure
a value difficult to measure
Illumination that they give
Make it worthwhile even to live
and for us when life has ended
we've soared to heaven and hell decended
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
We have taken up arms
Against what has been rejected
Inoculated ideology
To prevent perfection from being infected
All energies focused on creating
A world promised, yet not attained
Hiding sins and transgressions
By jailing the saints
Cycle after cycle set to repeat
Medal adhered, firmly, to the feet
Ride on, brother and sister
....ride on
But try to make it count
Reason every season
Walk the talk
To reveal what LIFE is all about
Outside, in depth
Everywhere you go
Exposing or hiding
Someone will always know
....secrets
It is the fear of what will be
That holds the power of what we see
...as true
Perception of self, destroyed
Identity, armed and deployed
...as worthless
So tired of the fight
Just wanting to be known, in life
Fully embraced and accepted
Judgment pulls the lure
Invites and adjures
To idealize the perfected
....idol
Written by Trudy Schrader on 03-04-2023
I Netted Mosquito Magic ™
(near microscopic totally tubular proboscis
gave one local bummer, a bloody respite this
summer, hence....aye goot good wry min
reason tubby a tuneful hummer.)
No sooner than getting
weltanschauung after getting bit
from female blood-sucking insect,
(which critters actually
considered little lord of the flies
comprise family culicidae)
a most amazing
extraordinaire inoculated me
with short lived surprise talent,
which got this
American male infected
with three hundred seconds
of super human impeccable skill
short-lived feat found
body, mind or spirit
capable to transcend natural
limits of usual abilities,
infusing this ordinary guy
with an unpredictable
supreme titillating, stupefying,
resounding, hair-raising, glorifying,
fleeting, entertaining,
daunting, catapulting, bedazzling,
amazing stints possessing,
thy being from invisible source
thence when expending said
burst of tremendous spurt,
per awesome bout of mental,
physical or spiritual bags of tricks
eclipsing mortal prowess
with stratospheric wow
fear less factor
ultimate fatigue found
this bloke supine
and unable to summon forth
one iota of strength.