Long Invective Poems

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


I Hate Robocalls

I hate robocalls!

Inxs of recorded messages   
transmitted automatically 
to my telephone number 
by automatic dialing device.

I turn off damn ringer,
and disassemble (carefully 
as disabling a time bomb) 
internal workings nevertheless...
telephone still buzzes
twenty four seven
eight days a week
automated telephone calls
digitally recorded message
perfectly spoken English

differentiation to distinguish
"FAKE" simulation
all bot impossible
totally immune to escape
gagging hospitable invective
electronic jawboning immunized
against antipathy, cruelty, enemy,
hostility, insecurity, pleasantry
Yukon run to tallest mountain
dive into Mariana Trench

get catapulted into
outer limits of twilight zone,
yet NEVER be free and clear
getting wirelessly zapped
with visual ad audiological
offal dregs and spam
(minus the green eggs)
oh... yes even after life,
while weightlessly 
pinwheeling in limbo,

particularly during eternal sleep,
when dead souls repose
six feet deep
or corpse undergoes cremation...
yepper, infiltration into atomic core
blithely battered, jimmied,
cherry lee pitted, tweaked,
worse fate than return of Zombies
electrical essential existential
incorporeal surreal auditory ordeal

spurs indiscriminate human
to relish golden silence
spawning best selling novel
to flesh out fiction
Utopian treasured island story
winning unknown author
instant acclaim and glory
describing village people
livingsocial, free and clear
without annoyingly, 

egregiously, infuriatingly,
maddeningly, quaveringly
vexing, nauseating, disrupting
blitzkrieg courtesy aggravating
trumpeting autonomous programs
hijacking brainstorming concentration
thwarting aim tug get back on target
(even when carrying on camping)
sundering coalescence 
regarding colonizing black screen

aborted doomed genesis
of brilliant fleeting idea,
contributes to conspiracy theory
linkedin with ghost calls
thus one smart
generic garden variety
longfellow forced to
grovel along boulevard
of broken dreams
on a green day.

Any resemblance between above
hyperbole and living person
asked courteously by his name
of the human league,
I police tell the caller
purely coincidental!


Premium Member Just Saying My Piece

When Poetry Soup becomes infested with partisan rubbish, 
It will be difficult for liberal, creative poets, like me to flourish 
Who seek a safe place away from the maddening ignorance 
Of those people who continually despise political difference 
For those who are angry and want to say the nastiest things 
Do you have any idea what hurt your insatiable blather brings? 

For some who don’t consider me a red-blooded American patriot, 
I fought for the U.S. of A. in uniform when you were still just a tot! 
I would rather die on the altar of honor than continually be castigated 
By followers of a “wannabe” dictator who every day prevaricated 
And sought to drag our country down into the muck and mire 
Continues, to this day, stoking his sycophants’ hatred with fire.

Selecting a political putdown of President Joseph Biden for Poem of the Day 
Was surely inappropriate if Poetry Soup administrators wish to say 
The site maintains neutrality when it comes to political discourse 
It encouraged poets, in their remarks, to choose up sides, of course 
Anger and vitriol hurled toward us who are of more left-leaning mind 
Will likely now become commonplace for those who are not so inclined. 

Frankly, I despise clicking on a poem I think will be worth reading 
Only to find, instead, an anti-American tirade of invective leading 
To put-downs against our president, the vice-president, and first lady 
Half-truths and conspiracy theories that, for the most part, are shady 
If you are unhappy with the free and fair election that turned out your man 
Then, every chance you get, go vote and change the system, if you can! 

Our country is not, I think we’d all agree, a perfect democracy 
We have lots of problems and crises – that's plain to see, but, 
We now have a leader who cares about doing what is right 
A man, who in short-order, is ready, committed, and willing to fight. 
I have travelled the world over, north and south, east and west 
Freedom to flourish in America is head and shoulders above the rest! 


Written:  April 4, 2021 (edited)

Awarded Poem of the Day on Poetry Soup
April 5, 2021

#38 on Best New Poems on Poetry Soup
April 6, 2021

Innocent Gunplay


Please don’t blame the automatic weapon
that synagogue killed me, tragically,
the other day
The hands which held it
are Second Amendment clean — 
Gunpowder washed in crimson water
of dogma purity

I was just the latest recipient
of an over-the-counter, scarlet backorder
Which came with a limited scope range
death warranty: Multiple kill shot guaranteed

So pistol please, don’t fire scattered aspersions
at the sacred bear arms ground of innocent gunplay
Judgmental splattered tones
always try to open fire and spit spray fault  
in a bullet hale of invective trigger rain
To cover misconstrued issues 
over fresh, bystander corpse bloodstains

It’s just eulogy plain dirt wrong,
to give credence to indignant moans
berating innocent gunplay

I wish somebody six-feet above
could control 
this outrageous, gun burst cry of 
emotional criticism

Knee jerks got no ex-caliber love —
Glamorous magazine 
affinity for kinetic pellets thereof

Bear arms pawns like me want more 
Camelot night undertakers,
wearing grizzly gravedigger gloves

My only tear grievous cardinal sin,
(of fearful last rites)
was that I wasn’t gat blast packing
to give a gun battle fight

I was just good target practice
for some gun-toting holster devotee

Us untimely death mismatches 
got smoking barrel burned
On this, we can collaterally all agree

That poor, inanimate weapon
was simply an unsuspecting vessel,
used in a grisly altar sacrifice

Ricochet oath bound
to help a hot metal head 
exercise their inalienable right
to take a life

Don’t muzzle blame that clean weaponry please ...
or the washed Pilate hand 
that calmly palm pulled the deadly squeeze

This is just the roulette wheel price
which every American Idle breathing body
gotta rolling barrel, lottery chance take

Winners get their engraved names 
obit posted,
without any undue process  
yellow tape delay

And this I must say
with deadly seriousness — 
We of the speeding spherical fallen,
slain by the blessed cray cray ... 
be fatal fatality souls 
Those bullet-hailed as revered victims 
of the hated, innocent gunplay

Beasting

It’s a difficult thing to understand, 
Maybe takes some explaining, 
But Beasting was a tradition, 
Just a part of military training
Helping turn the raw recruit 
Into one who understands
The necessity to obey quickly
Possibly life saving commands.
The other end of my working life, 
My last desperate job,
Working under the control of a
Manic bullying yob.
He would daily select his victim,
Apparently with glee,
And then verbally harass them 
For all the rest to see.

You could see them almost tremble
Until the victim was named
Then visibly relax with relief as he 
Was duly publicly shamed.
Day after day they took it,
His almost hysterical raves
Reasonably well paid but
I’ll treated wage slaves.
In due course it came to my turn
And I just walked out
Leaving behind me his astonished
And very angry shout. 
I didn’t return to work until
All the others had gone
When I explained to him the reason
Why I’d done what I’d done.

Although they were his workers
They had the right to expect
Courtesy and consideration and
To be treated with respect.
I could see he was a little upset,
Had that look on his face,
Must have been a long time since
Anybody had put him in his place.
I must say I expected him to
Tell me I was to be fired
But he kept his distance and 
Eventually I retired.
When I left apparently he continued
With his strange management style
And still the staff put up with 
His daily invective and bile

When you’ve faced a Sergeant Major
You’ve been beasted by the best.
But he was just a beginner 
Not even much of a test
The very worst he could’ve done
Was sack me at the end of the day,
A Sergeant Major could sling a man
In the cells and throw the key away.
In the military Beasting has it’s place,
Crazy as it may seem,
Part of the common experience to help
Build a competent team.
But, in civilian work and life
There really isn’t any excuse
It’s just inexcusable bullying
And unjustified abuse
Form: Rhyme

I Hate Robocalls

I hate robocalls!

I turn off damn ringer,
nonetheless...
telephone still buzzes
twenty four seven
eight days a week
automated telephone calls

digitally recorded message
perfectly spoken English
differentiation to distinguish
"FAKE" simulation
all bot impossible
totally immune to escape

gagging hospitable invective
electronic jawboning immunized
against antipathy, cruelty, enemy,
hostility, insecurity, pleasantry
Yukon run to tallest mountain
dive into Mariana Trench
get catapulted into

outer limits of twilight zone,
yet NEVER be free and clear
getting wirelessly zapped
with visual ad audiological
offal dregs and spam
oh... , yes even after life,

while weightlessly 
pinwheeling in limbo,
particularly during eternal sleep,
when dead souls repose
six feet deep
or corpse undergoes cremation...

yepper, infiltration into atomic core
blithely battered, jimmied,
cherry lee pitted, tweaked,
worse fate than return of Zombies
electrical essential existential
incorporeal surreal auditory ordeal

spurs indiscriminate human
to relish golden silence
spawning best selling novel
to flesh out fiction
Utopian treasured island story
winning unknown author

instant acclaim and glory
describing village people
livingsocial, free and clear
without annoyingly, 
egregiously, infuriatingly,
maddeningly, quaveringly

vexing, nauseating, disrupting
blitzkrieg courtesy aggravating
trumpeting autonomous programs
hijacking brainstorming concentration
thwarting aim tug get back on target
(even when carrying on camping)

sundering coalescence 
regarding colonizing black screen
aborted doomed genesis
of brilliant fleeting idea,

thus one smart
generic garden variety
longfellow forced to
grovel along boulevard
of broken dreams.

Any resemblance between above
hyperbole and living persons
purely coincidental!


I Hate Robocalls

I turn off damn ringer,
nonetheless...
telephone still buzzes
twenty four seven
eight days a week
automated telephone calls

digitally recorded message
perfectly spoken English
differentiation to distinguish
"FAKE" simulation
all bot impossible
totally immune to escape

gagging hospitable invective
electronic jawboning immunized
against antipathy, cruelty, enemy,
hostility, insecurity, pleasantry
Yukon run to tallest mountain
dive into Mariana Trench
get catapulted into

outer limits of twilight zone,
yet NEVER be free and clear
getting wirelessly zapped
with visual ad audiological
offal dregs and spam
oh... , yes even after life,

while weightlessly 
pinwheeling in limbo,
particularly during eternal sleep,
when dead souls repose
six feet deep
or corpse undergoes cremation...

yepper, infiltration into atomic core
blithely battered, jimmied,
cherry lee pitted, tweaked,
worse fate than return of Zombies
electrical essential existential
incorporeal surreal auditory ordeal

spurs indiscriminate human
to relish golden silence
spawning best selling novel
to flesh out fiction
Utopian treasured island story
winning unknown author

instant acclaim and glory
describing village people
livingsocial, free and clear
without annoyingly, 
egregiously, infuriatingly,
maddeningly, quaveringly

vexing, nauseating, disrupting
blitzkrieg courtesy aggravating
trumpeting autonomous programs
hijacking brainstorming concentration
thwarting aim tug get back on target
(even when carrying on camping)

sundering coalescence 
regarding colonizing black screen
aborted doomed genesis
of brilliant fleeting idea,

thus one smart
generic garden variety
longfellow forced to
grovel along boulevard
of broken dreams.

Any resemblance between above
hyperbole and living persons
purely coincidental!

Innocent Omission of a Lower Case M

Top notch legal scholar Erin Go Braw
     (less concerned about being fair versus
     abominable, irrevocable, and execrable
     unforgivable oversight most holy "M" & nonce)

cabinet of high priests,
     sans spelling chieftains ready to claw
your person to bits,
     and they presage remote clemency

     which decision told, when Jeff Sessions
     decides final punishment to draw
now, (see excerpted lines
     visited with glaring flaw

"Benediction For Lord Apple Macintosh"
     where ...bot sized wetbacks, setbacks,
     and drawbacks, required a secret char),...
     intimates a "hee haw"

and rock'm n sock'm pull no punches
     square at yar triangular jaw
YES, on account misspelling,
     whence Grammarian Jude Law

at the least aims (to topple a prospective
     title of eminence grise), banning access
     to such undeserved
     catbird seat, sans Rhetorical perch

laughing while ja plaintively call for maw
darn Oxford English Dictionary - but naw
can do, and hence paw
mister trumpeting 

     "FAKE" wordsmith raw
flesh will turn into....
unreadable print until closing text
that elaborates how holiness felt vexed.

To ye (a freshly minted scalawag),
     these 20/20 eyes bulged agog
while steaming with invective
     at what attempted

     to pass as sacred poetic blog
when thee (Matthew Scott Harris),
     now pronounced, an illiterate,
     immoderate, and inveterate å!@#$%?

with a severe cerebral clog
(meaning prefrontal lobotomy
     not out of the question),
      you m~r mangy whelp of a she dog
     (my humble apologies to canines),

less deserving than being
     whipped near death's doorstep flog
after henchmen (strongly
     resembling Alaskan BullWorms
     guarding this royal hutch,
     herein Cupertino, California.

Beautiful Killer

In the distance, [He] centers on [Her] shadow,
Resting in the emptiness by the desolate window.
Moth, masticated curtains imprison the light, 
By casing the lampshade and confining the bright.

Faintly in view sits the intense apparition of despair, 
Only casually noticed, so [His] intimacy never shared.
[His] secluded fetal spirit cringes, bundled and bruised.
A loyal love to fill the devotion void, [She] did refused.

No liberation from lamenting [His] invective, indulged soul.
Hastily, [He] stands raging, rapid, ready to escape [His] toll.
Several scores of the moon passed while pondering this desire.
Formulated, [He] faces firm, fervent to father this fire.

In ruffles, [She] did muffle, only once a whimper in pain, 
But rejection over took, and seized control of [His] brain.
A lifeless little [she], like a doll on the floor, 
Departing reality, left rotting like an apple core.

As [He] admires [His] most sacred pride and joy, 
[He] never once notices [she] was broken like a toy.
No severing the focus from the stare [He] did cast.
Finally to be placed on the shelf in [His] heart at long last.

Never will [she] grin a gesture nor laugh luscious smiles. 
[her] travels will cease, only the final Hearst casket miles.
[He] cleaves to [her] wilted wrist, cherishing…
Caressing [her] flaccid fingers, perishing… 
Fading.
Withering.
Draining.
Gone.
Sirens scream echoing their intended warning.
So soon? [His] covet was just executed this morning.
[He] feels distraught, and somewhat incitingly numb.
Clasping with a cold force, [He] clings to the gun.

Although a minute too late,
For, [He] has justified his fate.
As [They] came rapping through the front door, 
[he] wasn't there, the [killer] had killed once more.
Form:

The President Appears Mad As a Hatter

this Democratic Party affiliated member i.e.
   considered (with an eye blink)
   positing the following blurb
   for a very short while

asper the "FAKE" trumpeting
   oaf fish shill offal
   continuous, indecorous,
   and poisonous barbs doth re vile

me, an anonymous middle aged
   concerned citizen at thee...reptile
no...no...that, would
   unfairly debase creatures such as
   snakes, lizards, turtles, or alligators, 

   whose aggressive acceptable modes, 
   one expects tubby non servile
thus in my mind hiss non diss incriminating
   cruel, fiendish, gallingly jawboning
   mawkish philistine (YES, 
   I MEAN YOU DONALD Quisling TRUMP)

   figuratively roasting
   respectable people analogous
   to rake them over hot coals 
   then, burn them at the stake,
   which witch trial characters assassination

   with point blank expletives
   found an introspective chap (yours truly)
   responds to broadcast
   unflattering sentiments,
   albeit swiftly tailored harried, yup,
   yar...obnoxious fulminations rile,

said brief explanation motive enough
   (occurred within a split second)
   after gleaning most recent denigrating,
   hurtful, lambasting puerile

verbal and/ or twittering outbursts
   (MOST DEFINITELY) unstatesmanlike
at least to me: a circumspect enlightened
   genteel individual kind nattering
nabob of nativity, who feels alarmed

   at venal wickedness by thee ->
   President Trump spluttering, smoldering, 
   slandering gallimaufry
predicated predictable awfully banal,

   cringeworthy diurnal,
   and fiercely hurt locker ful invective bile
perhaps indicative of dementia praecox
   or smother mental illness,
   ye would immediately refute,
   and be in din aisle.

A Poet's Dozen An Invective Contest

the sticks and the stones                                                                                                   words not thrown from glass houses                                                                                  fun must be in play                                                                                       When playing the dozens with oneself                                                                                                                                                 Is the epitome of humor in and of itselfAs when rubber sticks to glue                                                                                                                                                              As you are nursing a rhyme shattering the mirror                                               Downplaying the mother of necessity                                                                                                                                               You realize she your mother too                                                                                                                                         Jazzing with the rhythm and blues effigy                                                                                                                                  No matter how you win this must brew                                                                                                                                   Twelve out of twelve you also have to lose                                                      10/31/2015
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

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