Long Irks Poems
Long Irks Poems. Below are the most popular long Irks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Irks poems by poem length and keyword.
It was such an uneventful day today
Tonight, I want to prove otherwise
To my Father above, but maybe someday
It's a windy night in the desert...walking tonight would be rather unwise…
It was such an unremarkable day
Tonight, I need to pray away the pain
That's been kept concealed in my heart of stone...I, alone, can't stand this dreariness - no way!
It's a windy night in the desert…I'm wishing for rain instead not to go down the drain
It's such a mundane time for me inside my cranium
It's a mind-numbing numbness I can't quite fathom
Stimulate me with your serenity and everything in between
I'm as dry and worn-out as dust on your clothing, left unseen
Banal words and worthlessness irks me at times like these…
I'm bothered to the extreme, so I want to let go of my worries
In the brisk desert breeze
To set you and I at ease
I've become wearisome and alone lately…
Frankly blind as well as smiling miserably
Please save me from my lonesome state of mind
Please give me back meaning in life, so I can find…so I can find...
Solace for my fragile feet to run to,
Happiness for my fingers to brew,
Progress to make and to freely undo,
And Peace for my hyperactive mind of rue
God will give it to me in due time, in due time
His kindness is as ripe as fresh fruit in its prime
But, this ugly sorrow is like grime upon my soul
You're still beautiful today and tomorrow as a whole
I'm sorry that I wasn't productive in this short life
I'm wanting freedom and liberty away from strife
I spent my time on my pleasures and foolish leisure
Instead, I should have looked up to You and be mature
I'm just a tedious, hideous and preposterous beast before the dawn; dusk is gone,
Left on my own in this castle, filled with coldhearted lies in which I feast upon
I made a good impression on the Lord this afternoon, doing nothing but troublesome ways...
I gave up trying to do what is right in the past like a buffoon, doing ridiculous tricks for silly praise
I am not a circus buffoon for all to simply laugh at
I am not a beast that is neglected and alone
I am not a foolish man or a reckless and dirty rat
I am just a boy who wasted time on his phone..
I think, there are ghosts.
They stay quiet, the ghosts do. Mostly quiet and invisible. You would hardly know there is one there in the room with you. They are there though. Watching, haunting really to think they linger on, just to be voyeurs. I don’t feel like I’m being watched though. They don’t even have real eyes, they have ghost eyes. I think that’s why they are lost, they can’t see where they are going, not in any discernible way. But they do follow. I can’t talk to them because their vocal chords are much worse than their eyes. They are quiet, mostly.
I hear a clang, a splat, squelch and a bong. It’s like the chimes of a clock striking but it’s a clock that has forgotten it’s a clock. Maybe it woke up too soon and thought it was a tomato today, or perhaps a lima, I can’t be sure. That sound irks me, only it’s, I don’t know what it is they are trying to say. I don’t speak ghost and ghosts don’t speak.
You may wonder why, I believe in ghosts. You may, if you don’t. I don’t need to believe, they are there with my knowledge or not, watching. It is, as if something happened, or will happen. Well things happen whether you believe in them or not.
You never saw a tree fall in the forest when nobody was around but you believe it makes a sound? Perhaps you don’t. You believe in gravity and in the sound mathematical equations you can preform to accurately predict orbits, acceleration and tension? Perhaps you don’t. You believe in oxygen and the carbon cycle. Perhaps you don’t, but that no more stops it than a finger stops a running tap. By any means, belief is not important. You can believe yourself to be a monkey and still believe monkeys capable of writing Shakespeare. You can believe you are a woman, and so you should.
We are not living in a time of truth. We live in a time where the truth is second to nature. Or maybe just second. Second to politics, second to wellbeing, second to matching socks. Where did those socks go? I can’t imagine ghosts have a foot fetish. Don’t suppose they get some thrill embarrassing those caught with odd socks. No, ghosts don’t steal socks, it is the washer that is the real kingpin in that racket.
justice for junior! justice for junior! justice for junior! your death has affected me deeply and I never even knew ya. 15yrs old you had ya whole future ahead of ya. Savages came for you thinking you was him, savages came after you committing the greatest sin! Justice for junior who was brutally beaten and killed, taken to soon before any of his dreams could be achieved and fulfilled. justice for junior! his death has touched many, his death has made many feel empty, his death came from an unknown enemy. justice for junior! A teenage boy who had never been in a fight had to fight for his life, A teenage boy caught of guard fought and sought help to survive. Justice for junior, lost the battle for his life... if only help had came sooner, maybe just maybe junior would still have a future! justice for junior!!!How can you kill someone in cold blood?! How can you take a life with the swipe of a knife?! How do you make the decision to murder a teen because they fit your description?! How can you go on a killing spree?! Taking innocent lives because you can’t handle society! City to city murders are happening. kids, teens, adults are getting killed and no one is helping them! No one is stopping them and in many cities the cops are the ing problem! No where to run, no where to hide, you even get popped in broad day light with your baby or your lady by your side. Innocent lives being taken everyday, mothers and fathers left to mourn their sons and daughters. Never getting to see them graduate or get married, having to get use to an extra room that is now empty. A pain that will never fully heal, A pain they will wish everyday that isn’t real. A life a ass mother er had to steal! It gets to me and hurts me, it saddens me and it irks me! I feel so helpless, I wish I could help end the madness! I wish you murderers would get a ing conscious, I wish there was a way to stop this! I feel the pain of those mourning and the tears start forming, from the bottom of my heart I wish there was more I could do for them. I wish I could pray all the bad away, I wish the dead were alive and here to stay!
The Big Bang Theory and others devised.
Professors armed with latest editions.
Soon, teach as facts; oh, faith of youth revised.
Inspired, common suppositions.
Biblical creation too soon capsized.
Unaware, youth accepts false traditions.
Half-truths and questions upon young minds flay.
It irks me; I saw my faithfulness stray.
Had God finished his work in seven days?
But fields of plants and herbs had not been formed!
Had Adam not yet met his earthly phase?
That contradiction through my faith once stormed.
And countless questions set my soul ablaze.
Is Chapter two of Genesis malformed?
I prayed for answers; turned again to faith.
Pondering, wondering until Christ’s waith.
Inklings energized my logical mind.
For Genesis, decoding must be found. *
One’s faith in God never has to be blind!
Ask many questions with thoughts heaven bound.
Upon my brain, some secret truths would bind.
Before too long, the logic came around.
Yes, answer found, years ago; set me free.
Those first days began molecularly.
By searching fact and theory my trust grew.
I prayed for wisdom as I pondered life.
Past doubtful years had sent my faith askew.
Those days watched science lace my heart with strife.
But, God above would see my trust renew.
With deepest thought a helpful book was penned.
Genesis Decoded, brought faith, again.
I know there is a God who made all things.
Laws of physics and each atom show his force.
Genetics explored God’s created string.
Now, scientists have altered nature’s source.
Relativity, the Theory, God sings,
Molecules are moving along their course.
So let us feel and know wherein truth lies.
Upon the facts, not schemes, forever cries.
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Don't write for the contest, Contest
Sponsored by: Vicky Tsiluma
Ó January 26, 2014
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
* http://www.redbubble.com/people/daneann/writing/3355478-genesis-decoded
ALSO SEE http://www.redbubble.com/people/daneann/writing/3479742-bridging-the-
gap-between-science-and-religion-the-hypothesis
It must be hard
To carry it around
That load of hate
Weighing on your heart
A powder keg
Waiting to explode
Hurting others but
Killing your own soul
You pretend it isn’t there
But now and again it shows
In what you say
In what you write
The sarcasm hidden under the sweet
The hate clothed in happy
And yet….
It’s there
For the discerning to see
It must be hard
To have it eat away at you
And not be able to voice
All those words
That are begging to be heard
Dying to hit the mark
A bull's eye victory
That brings relief
It must be hard
To keep them locked away
For fear of criticism
Of “losing face”
And yet….
They gnaw away at your being
Those sugar coated morsels of hate
For those inferior
Made of fluff
Not substantial
Not up to par
Medicore
Weak
Sniveling
Sappy
Sorry
Excuses of human beings
It must be hard
To be civil
To pretend to be kind
Thinking others are blind
To the real motives behind
Your words…..
Ah…if only you’d realize
The only one hurting
The only one who is weak
Is you
To love takes strength
To forgive takes power
To rejoice with others takes integrity
The finer qualities
To hate is easy
To love near impossible
Hate would dissipate
If you took some time to realize
The person who irks you
Who just rubs you the wrong way
Maybe has been rubbed the wrong way
As a child...
Sexually abused
Struck down by violence
Suffering from...
Emotional abuse
Sexual abuse
Verbal abuse
Physical abuse
Insecurity
Feelings of inferiority
He has hidden baggage too
Behind his false bravado
A heart that is in pain
Much like you
His brokenness plain
His tears in the rain
So no one can see
I know it must be hard
To try to change
To put away hate
But it’s not too late
To look inside
The one you despise
You just might be surprised
To see deep within
And there in his eyes
A reflection of all that comprises
the beauty of YOU!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
We fell
two hearts
became one
I thought
we'd stay
but eventually
we stopped
now your going up
while i'm going down
friends love your company
so I can't just leave skip town
I can't just forget
how can I?
Likeable you would never let me
And little old me couldn't just let things be
I hate my life
to ironic for my taste
cause it's not just that
I like you
that irks my nerves
It's that likeable you
could never stop being likeable
Therefore I have no one to talk to
cause they wouldn't understand
why i'm trying to hate you
they wouldn't get it
cause your so likeable
that i'm alone
even with my closest friends
and that's a new kinda low
A new below
Advice to the new hire ...
I heard tell, it's been said
that to make an omelet,
you have to break a few eggs
I regret I had to break a few,
I regret I'm gonna break a few more too
I'm a spiritual chef,
I serve food for the soul
I keep a clean kitchen here,
that's the first thing you should know
Just remember this,
every time you're breaking the bread
And don't you forget the other thing I said,
I don't wanna have to break a few of your eggs
Sometimes you have to shake things up,
to get to the bottom of what irks
Bang some pans, make a lot of noise ...
or maybe a little quiet shaming will work
Sometimes you gotta use finesse,
coax the trust with a dash of tenderness
Other times you gotta be tough:
bring the big cleaver down hard
to separate the truth from the lying fluff
Parse the meat from the bone,
to get to the heart of what could be wrong
Someone's feelings just might get hurt,
so knead lightly, use the butter smooth approach
Communication can get lost in the mix;
they ordered easy over, but they get it poached
Do what you have to do,
decide how you want to present the display
But if you can't stand the heat in the kitchen,
it's best you get out, don't get in the way
I ain't got time for the sob story clambake,
I'm gonna call you out,
if you keep making the same culinary mistake
My kitchen does clean cooking,
so put on your hand and head covering
You never know who's looking,
who's tasting the cuisine
So don't skip the minor details,
no matter how small they may seem to be
Telling the truth is the recipe that sells
It keeps you from getting your eggs cracked,
and getting your feelings scrambled like an omelet
It spares you from becoming a chef's regret
This once nation of peace and calm, lies in chaos and anarchy
It's Government in broken promises, imploding indefinitely
Students are the first to react, their future in tattered torn
Through barricades they implore, their resilience will never be worn
To go back on why you've been voted in, is sacrilege to them
Being blatant has been their response, from alleged honourable men
Days of protests abound, whilst the multitudes in gather grow
Anarchy is their cry, it's for you, whom we'll overthrow
A week has duly passed, as the masses rise in cities rife
They target Government offices, now lying empty in soulless strife
Stubbornness kicks in, by these trusted voted in
In blind they see no reason, to allow their lies to thin
We are now into the second week, enforcement officers cannot contain
Around their table the dishonourable crew, call in our fighting men
Through the barricades, dialogues from our forces gain
Brothers shout to brothers, through the same windows, mirrored are pains
For they have similar irks, to be combatant without their needs
Being posted to lands we don't belong, filling their Governments greed's
Barriers now in fall, amidst the students their brothers unite
No weapons are called upon, a non triggered anarchy strikes
Many cities are now affected, in education down
The anarchy cry kicks in, whilst the Government in place sits drowned
On the steps of No 10, it's aged door now lies ajar
I no longer speak for the people he says, our lies have gone too far
Voted in, now voted out, candidates step forward, in truthful elected cry
For whom now elected, be prepared for the reign, or future political die
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/political.php
The transition of love to hate, can take years or less
Never, ever could or would one have anticipated in their dream state
imagination, let alone awake, walking and talking reality, this 360 degree
change was possible, no red flags when you met then wed
no sirens alarmed, no fear or dread
Only love and love, the subtle irritants and endearments
will never be ' bones of contention '--NEVER !!!
Love will smother and drown the discord and darkness
Prevailing though all, that's what THEY say
No matter the messes, distresses, irks and fires
Then fewer caresses, and kisses, less to admire
Those cute, little idiosyncrasies morph into major annoyances
that drive you to the brink, then you think
I use to love when he did....or said....how he dressed...
how he said means things to me but said he was only joking...
how he used to drink a little, now lots, and comments are meaner
and obscene
and then you found those insults were mainly hurled when others were around
then home less and less, preferring to live at watering hole with friends
and AL, the liquid pal !!
And so on and so on, crud and crap
Losing ability to snap back, losing desire to get IT back
Well, there you go, now you know
The change, the rearrangement of emotional ecstasy to
hate and disdain, fantasies of loving each other eternally
now internally destroyed and decimated, way beyond decayed
and rotten, any fragments of love and soul
Gone, done, hate won, --- BUT---what could have been done different
I tried, from minor, tiny changes to major ones, quite significant
I really, honestly, wish that love conquered all
But seems unrealistic and impossible, just a fantasy
Beyond the imagination, eternal love and romance
When someone lies to me, sometimes it's difficult not to turn and walk away. I think they do it because of one of two reasons. Either they need to feel important, or because they think I'm too stupid to know they're lying."
Nothing irks me more than jerks who are habitual liars
Fibbers whose evil forked tongues I'd extract with pliers
Those who look me square in the eye and keep defying
my skeptical look of askance when I think they're lying
If I could bag lies, fake alibis and bull crap I am fed
I would be spreading that fertilizer in my garden bed,
aware that manure helps flowers bloom all year long
But the stench of bull crap would be much too strong
Liars can't be believed, even when speaking the truth
I find it distasteful, malicious, abhorrent and uncouth
They insult my intelligence, and I find it very repulsive
but to those who tell lies, it's irrepressibly compulsive
They keep trying their damnable best to get me to believe
that a ruse is the truth, but with malcontent they deceive
It's a fault of mendacious fabulists and cunning scams
With falsehoods they'd shave the wool of innocent lambs
No pearls I cast before such swine, who wallow in muck
Caught in webs they've woven, in quicksand, they're stuck
Liars move deeper into darkness with each fallacy they spin
Their recurrent falsehoods are bull crap, and will do them in
Woe to liars when their deceitful fabrications are exposed
Until the truth they admit, my door to them will be closed
Deceptions are forgiven if they are repentant and confess
But I'm not naive enough to keep falling for their load of BS
December 24, 2021
King-Size Bull Crap Contest
Sponsored by Charlie Messina