Long Intimidation Poems
Long Intimidation Poems. Below are the most popular long Intimidation by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Intimidation poems by poem length and keyword.
Words are no more than thoughts,
Which we choose to transfer by our voices.
Often, leaving them left unsaid,
Would be the wiser of our two choices.
At times, when our rage or anger,
We intentionally set out to offend.
Inflicting damage to someone's heart,
Irreparable, that we as men can't mend.
We've words that we think are funny,
Still others that we use to console.
But those that are said in haste,
Always take the far greater toll.
From our tongues they seem to flow,
With minimal effort on our parts,
Often, there like barbs on a gaff,
Tearing meat from others hearts.
Far better, words of sarcasm, remain unsaid,
That another's ears should not hear.
Those words of hate or intimidation,
Or those which might cause fear.
Using tact, let our words be so chosen,
Then said to one, not about.
Never whispered in some dark corner,
Nor in secret should we spout.
We must carefully choose the words we speak,
For by our words, to others we're known.
We stand accountable, whether good or back,
And will be judged by the words we've sown.
What's worse than a malicious master of manipulation?
Two who join together to play Pin the Tail on their prey
Continuously and clamorously... asses love to bray
Cruelty is not always physical
Some take joy in messing with the mind
Blowing in like a blustering wind
with wicked words bringing them fame
of being labeled 'Keyboard Bullies'
Isn't that a repugnant name?
There's nothing casual about the pain
their cryptic cruelty causes, nor the disdain
Odious is the stench of ogres in the game they play
Beasts who feast on innocent folks
With a guileful grin they wound with keystrokes
Shots fired from wolves in sheep's clothing
They're gnashing teeth bite with loathing
Poisoned seeds of malice they sow
cawing to anyone who listens when they crow
With a nit-picking beak or crooked finger pointing,
they appoint themselves kings and queens,
then squat on a throne by self-anointing
Pathetic fools dwelling in a state of pretense
whose level of narcissism and bullying is immense
Sharpened are their tongues and pens used as tools
Quick to throw a gauntlet upon the ground
at what they presume is weak quarry
but how speedily they bay like injured hounds
when a righteous eye looks in their direction
Intimidation is a hallmark of their imperfection
The white flag wavers are filled with ire
Waffles, covering themselves in sweet syrup talk
claiming they're the victim. What a crock!
Their feet should be held in the fire
No one should be a casualty of their cruelty
Disparaging others is a painful assault
The fault of aggressors who crave attention
Keyboard bullies causing conflict and dissension
Living in their dark world... the cyber dimension
Methinks resurgence of wakefulness
after bewitching hour i.e. midnight
quickly dissipating before dawn
quasi baptism regarding
preternatural soulful immersion
amidst spiritus mundi
foretaste awaiting expiration
regarding corporeal being
yours truly approaching mortality,
despite atheistic predilections
mine consciousness anointed
amist pantheon renown authors
analogous to dead poet society
ephemerally, fleetingly, gloriously
rejuvenated injecting inspiration
channeling, kindling, tindering
divine ethereal effervescence
allowing, enabling, proffering
exquisite jubilant outlook,
albeit phenomenal, quintessential, surreal
flash dancing unbelievable arabesque
spellbinding one garden variety
no name brand mortal
with dizzying evocative
silent springing summer
re: August gifted wordsmiths
avast swath of diverse
literary creative minds
amalgamation spanning
representative creeds, ethnicities,
genders, nationalities, religions...
disembodied spirits
peacefully commingling
immortal legendary outsize resplendent
universally vaunted writers
inaccessible to communicate
become linkedin while
this body (me) electrified
with sensory awareness
merely sneak preview
after life coming attractions,
nonetheless spark zealousness
to hone poetic craftsmanship
never approaching supreme
talent these masters endowed
yet also aspiring
to tamp down intimidation
beholding gold standard
benchmarked excellence
no matter mine deft
flourishes with English language
never earns raves
still enjoyment arises
enamored with kickstarting
indulging reverence expressing
emotions, thoughts, yearnings...
thru milieu courtesy
twenty six symbols,
where dictionary equals Bible
said tome in tandem with thesaurus
treasure trove of untold delight
and affinity since boyhood
until...corporeal flesh
attains posthumous summons.
Rather Galesburg Joliet
Terrehaute Florence Colorado
to the shores of Bogotá
flushing heroin fentanyl
through the gates behind bars
thee corrupt prison ran
by gang leaders paying
off prison guards you can
ask yourself what brand
to buy into Hoover vacuum’s
are reliable American made
while Kirby Brands offers
negligence falsifying death
row inmates finally hangman’s
curse while the hoover
vacuum continues to crawl
over the paisley patterns in
the federal building breaking
even on Lasalle and Van Burean
where Gargano once controlled
most of the revenue trading fenced
with osh gosh severe terrorist
threats released only when corrupt
prison guards do exactly what
he says attack who he says attack
while Kirby vacuum holding twenty
convictions drugs violence victim
intimidation battery hit and run
corrupt family members controlling
Wisconsin prison system looking to
transfer power back to Joliet upon
Hoover stamp of approval which
might cross over interfering with
the free Hoover movement this
certainty opens the flood gates
for Gambino early release programs
for death row inmates just can’t
have all power to the people without
including all prison across America
not to exclude Gitmo with the
boarders rise in Islamic crossing
over Lore Mannino territories all
corruption throughout prison systems
changes hands through Gambino rackets
funnelling crime throughout abuse
of power corruption evenly distributed
meanwhile power is being tampered
with 40 years of dirt swept under
the rugs until the Hoover vacuum
is plugged back in all bets are off
ask yourself what’s your Brand
Hoover trustees or unreliable Kirby
designed to malfunction fictitious
score boards chips blood everywhere
devouring the structure of all power
terrorising FBI confidential human sources
during an election where corruption sinks
fast folding swiftly better get a broom
No fear of terrorist threats from
violent offenders gang leaders
corrupt prison guards organised
corruption abuse of power intimidation
of an FBI confidential human source
FBI informants CLEAN IT UP
Bullies
Unrestrained, belligerent bullies abound
In schools, institutions, and in businesses,
Who create ruckuses that serve no purpose
But to show passionless feelings of meanness,
Filled with vindictiveness, jealousy, and spite,
In schools, institutions, and in businesses.
Indifferent to others, they harass and fight,
Irresponsible for the scars they impart
Through their vindictiveness, jealousy, and spite,
Employing words and actions to poison hearts
And disrupt the flow of cordial interactions,
Irresponsible for the hurt they impart.
Temper-tantrum clods using intimidation
Who are conceited, narcissistic, and deranged,
Disrupting the flow of cordial interactions.
From the cradle to the grave, they seldom change;
Unrestrained, belligerent bullies abound,
Conceited, narcissistic, vain, and deranged,
And create ruckuses that serve no purpose.
Your barque blocks the orb which steers my muse;
change course, you are an intrusion. Captain Wahn.
Intimidation brands you a martyr,
mere threats have no place herein.
Alter your own path. Skipper Twain.
Seems a knot has you both anchored;
choking, challenging your journey.
Old grudges you have harbored will send you
back to your docks on a gurney. words from Urania.
Fate obstructs the view
when ships align with the moon.
Urania smiles.
Hidden underwater shelf
will cut short the daze of malice.
We never even spoke after your abuse left me weak.
Then suddenly, you called my name as if you desperately needed to speak.
I didn't answer, but I'm curious to know why you're calling my name,
because my body still feels the pain in my heart that you shattered when the glass broke my name!
To the point of being spread across the floor where my face would be when you placed your shoe upon my teeth.
With your intimidation of rage and me begging you to stop because I couldn't take any more.
So I ask again, why are you calling my name?
Is it because of the door that you slammed me into when you hit my body to the point of being broken, at two in the morning after you'd been drinking and smoking?
As I lay there trying to interpret the situation of being falsely accused for your miscues of sad failures, with little motivation, while I'm being abused.
Now I'm like a worthless failure of a woman with no value from being used.
So that's right, don't feel sorry for me; I'm content with what I've been through and who I choose to be.
You see, the younger me told the older me to wake up and be better for the world to see.
So I went out and self-trained my mind
to be stronger than anything that is not worth my time.
And I pledge to God that if He takes away this problem that's left me broken,
I won't put anyone back together again
because the price you will pay to fix it will continue to leave you with tears and silent words unspoken.
So, I lift my head up out of the womb of rebirth to be reborn with the idea that happiness will bloom me into the person who was lost and is now found in the rehabilitation of faith.
What a weekend I’ve just had
There I was, gaily skipping along
When I got lured down an unknown
path
by the sound of my own voice
I followed, to explore new terrain
Soon got lost in my new found joy
I must have ventured out too far
Or took a wrong turn somewhere
that led me to cross paths with some unexpected
although familiar faces
A few deranged demons that I had ghosted in the past,
decided to confront me
They did find me too long in the tooth
to have my neck nudged into a noose
So they chose instead to drag me
right back to the fiery pits of hell
My old stomping ground as it were
Ushered me in with a rather special
welcome treat
blatant intimidation and pure disdain
My voice had landed me in a hornet’s nest!
All of a sudden having a personal voice,
lost all of its glamour and appeal,
seemed way too risky and a tad overrated
I surrendered to silence right away
and it quickly sprung me out of there
luckily I landed right back at home
It’s a shame I couldn’t stay long enough in hell
to fully enjoy its hospitality
Now that I'm back in my safe space,
I savour each and every glorious gift
brought by that little detour I took
In a way, I’m glad I took that route
It proved to be a great wake up call
that I didn’t even know I needed.
Form:
You threaten me…
like intimidation is a skill you mastered.
Even in Purple Month,
when women are supposed to be celebrated,
protected,
uplifted—
you still choose violence
like it’s a personality trait.
To you, our pain is just a concept.
A poster.
A speech someone else must give.
Never you.
You open fake Facebook accounts in my name—
wearing my identity
like a stolen jacket.
Posting pictures of me
like you bought me,
like you own me,
like my face is something you’re entitled to.
You spread lies about me
because truth has never loved you back.
You scam people in my name
because your own name
is too empty
to stand on its own.
You threaten to kill me
for leaving.
You promise to send gangsters my way
because freedom—for me—
feels like disrespect to you.
But every morning
I whisper to myself:
“It can be done.”
And every night
I thank myself
because I’m doing it.
Without you.
And that—
that’s what burns you the most, isn’t it?
That my life gets better
and better
daily,
even without you.
Still I grow.
Still I rise.
Still I get thicker,
stronger,
happier—
without you.
Our “love” died the day I said hubby
and you replied,
cold as metal,
“I’m not your hubby. I didn’t marry you.”
That’s the day I knew—
I was pouring love into a grave
and calling it a future.
So go ahead.
Threaten.
Lie.
Create a hundred stolen versions of me online.
Do whatever helps you pretend
you still matter in my story.
Because the real me?
The woman who walked away?
She is untouchable.
Unbreakable.
Reborn.
Engaged
Purple. Powerful.
Protected by her own strength.
And no gangster,
no fake account,
no whispered threat
will ever dim the light
I reclaimed.
More than words, but experiences
Through turmoil of intimidation
Dignity of Character
Storms that only a Poet knows
Story ethics
Dialog prelude
Voices shouting
Emotions unleashed
Sentences leading the way
Script sense
Passing moments of unsettled thoughts
Midnight writing of ideas
The premiere of what is too come
Alpha by Alpha scenery seen
Feeling and impact
Tears anguish from reflection
Happy and sad times
Influences offering the push through struggles
Time being the accelerate
Echoes chanting approved
Rising from the deep ocean surface
Sacrifice after sacrifice
Rising above all
Answering to one’s call
Conquering dreams that were possibilities
Poet’s Unity
Theo honor
Discovery of a Poet being exploration
Responsibility and commitment
Destiny charged
Born to achieve
Poet elements of Purpose, Objective, Expressions and Transform
Feel and believe it.