Long Leech Poems
Long Leech Poems. Below are the most popular long Leech by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Leech poems by poem length and keyword.
The mind is a womb
Copulate it
Let the semen of reason
Part the legs of its cervix
And you will see
When moth struggles before its born
The power of its dreams for flight
Words are eggs, you know
Virginal eggs,
I saw him hatch them into bricks
Of ideas that he could carve
Like an Edna exhibit
All copulation must spontaneous
A true gentleman has that gift
Not to force his feelings
On his betrothed
He was also scholar, you know
A sort of poet
That prefer metaphors to the conflict
Of chisel and wood
He had such a mastery of the rhetoric
I mean he understood them better than us
For he did not only speak like them
But spoke their strategy better than them
I sometimes wondered how he knew himself
Apart.
Its sort of seemed ironic
That he did have the anger that Fanon composed
Unless wit is a subtle part of it
May be environment is such a part of it
The cool, I mean
We say that about Manchesterians
Roxborough,
If it could produce the soldier-scholar
Could not have produced just a little fire
Even for the cremation of his brother, Roy
Perhaps it was the mix blood ...
Busta said that his mother was Taino
I do not understand is who mixed them though
There is an overt statement of force to be made
A rape scrubbed from the memory
For how could one half of hm
Become so invisible ...
The mission I mean.
I must rule
More than wood, and more
Than water
For my destiny
Is more than what men may leech
So I am not exploited
I am killed for this robbery
And here I am left
A dead man on a throne
Here I am
Shrouded with self government
And staring into the empty eyes
Of children
So why do I love him then
Was it alone because my father
Fashioned my world for me
Gave me this icon
For proximity the barbarians
Who snatched my mother
Washing her white linen one day
From the sweet river
Do not take that thought to the bank
Where my children play
This man deserves his accolade
If only for taking blindness from my mind
If only for letting me know
The chain had never rattled their
And even in their own words
I could look at the world
And ask "why not?"
He gave me a ladder to my education
That was some gift,
Quite the best of all I am given
O it so beautiful to copulate the mind
Or hold hands through the annals
And see this Manley,
This little fountain of great ambition
Flowing at my lips.
Unwashed but felt, my single to every a tear sunk with the rain
Is there no life of my own can I exchange for hers to remain?}
“Though your heart may be pitiful in nature
It is seen that strength exist in one’s heartfelt structure
The tragedy witnessed is indeed uncalled for and unkind
The wrath of the Leech-King has succeeded in breaking the chains of time
However one is to think the terrors it is capable to unleash
Isn’t to be as compared to the horrors the spawn leeches it release
One being underway to consume the life of the Mistress of War
Tasting the blood, licking the soul till finally of death to befall
Yet, death is only to be the beginning of her worst nightmare
The service to the void must she forever be in servitude to bare
Time is always against those who would seek the path of faith
Every turn is only to promise another tide of evil to wave
I speak solemnly in words for my powers isn’t harvested for healing
Neither is The Angel of Dreams capable of such cursed nurturing
The Word however, will have a way to alleviate this travesty
Yet, time isn’t to favour one’s path towards the ultimate destiny
Perhaps only a day or two remains before Alkaiya is to turn side
And to have one as Holy to abide to The Void… is as well to welcome eternal night
Be warned Knight of the Word, Alkaiya is one’s guide within The Ancients
Where one is to be lost, all is lost… and either will be banished from existence
There is still a providential way to prevail over this quandary
Though it isn’t to cure fully, it is however the unsurpassed remedy
There is a God, a fallen God alike The Befallen Angel of Dreams
A day’s walk to the Mount of Ecilia is where he resides therein
I am not to promise a conceivable outcome to foresee
I can only assure… this being the finest proposal to be
And one need not fear to be alone, for I will guide the way
If not to ensure for the lives of the Champions… remains to stay
Live and let live one’s destine life within The Ancients to be
Do not be troubled by an enigmatic outcome, one is unable to see
Our paths must we bear the burdens our tormented souls will lead
My once path directed to failure where you must now succeed
Let us be on our way to ascend the treacherous mountains upon
To be there, will one’s subsequent path be unraveled along…”
Strange invader, from the moment I awaken, you are there -
a disgusting leech that has no name.
I describe you to various doctors.
They tell me they don’t know you
and pretend to believe me on how you appeared in my body.
Yet they are clueless and cannot rid me of you.
I know how you appeared; you got inside me
through injections of an unnecessary evil called Prolia.
Stupidly, I guessed the truth too late
that Prolia was allowing you to take control of me.
By the fourth injection of that toxin within two years,
my tongue burned bright red, and I knew then
you were firmly ensconced inside me.
My brain appears to be your headquarters,
from where you perform your unholy operations.
At first you increased my saliva to the extent that
by injection number 2, I was spitting out my food.
Later you added new weird side effects such as inner spinning.
Though I stopped injections, a few years later
you transformed into other seemingly supernatural forces:
changing my mouth into feeling numerous changing textures.
These would come and go until today
my mouth is left at the bottom with a squishy feeling
that barely is relieved by the chewing of gum.
I press my lips together and they are numb.
You are the bane of my life.
Saliva still flows but not as strongly
as your effects surge through me, primarily on my back.
You have hijacked my nervous system.
Unholy parasite, you malevolently induce unnatural feelings.
The inner spinning changed to something worse.
Sometimes I feel as if I am being pushed from behind.
Other times, the pushing changes into a squeezing sensation.
I have no name for what you really are,
but I have names for your different types of aggravation.
When you squeeze my back, I name you Octopus Tentacles.
Other times you are a hard rain pelting my back.
Often you are a surge that coincides
with an excess amount of saliva in my mouth.
My one relief is to press my back against a chair
or the pillow on my bed; ahhhh, to be in my bed!
Seven years after cancer’s visit, I continue to live with YOU.
People tell me not to bring you up, for then you might go away.
But I waken from nice dreams, and there you are, awaiting me.
Strange invader, you have made the inconvenience of cancer
seem entirely minor compared to you.
Wood Nymph, wraps white
gossamer legs in hello, as branch shakes
in obvious "ka_ching"!
'Oh wait till you see what she does next",
tattles the tree, in an excited and mischievous
foreboding.
Itself, a Familiar and Servant,
hypnotized to carry and present her gift of wrap
and wrap of gift.
The naughty Nymph O pushes herself halfway up
like a tired and cautious sloth
(on the lip of a drinking cup.)
An innocent look beguiles her face
as essence of bark soils it's digits up,
To stick like a sponge to her curves like a leech
leeching much.
Nurses a clamp to her soft skin
as if to aspire seed of sapling in sap, sapping sin.
As She stares through, impossibly pierced,
her cruelly clumsy jiggle starks the eye
in an ultra violence of lumplumpsum.
The forest stirs with whispers of silence,
gossiper secretions to soil more.
Wood nymph dances careless,
her story unfolding, merciless amore.
Her web weaving legs, wrapped in ethereal grace,
licks of
delicate tricks of creature of delicacy.
Surreal ad vise given visa visage
it's enchanting embrace.
The trees, they giggle with mischievous delight,
as they await her next move, a magical sight.
A familiar servant, the branches extend,
presenting her gifts, their devotion, bend.
Halfway she rises, cautious and slow, oh dear.
Like a tired sloth, uncertain where to go
but nearer near.
Innocence plays upon her beguiling face,
as she clings to the bark, leaving presiding trace.
A sponge to her curves, the bark holds so tight,
seeks to crumble there.
Leaving a mark, a visible sign of it's mare.
But she dances on, with a clumsy sway.
A violence of debauchery in a mystical play,
there there, tears tears tears.
Her presence, it lingers, in the air, a fragrance,
mimicking the soul bare.
A poem to stir souls, in carom of supernatural
resonance in crept.
The wood nymph bewitches with every step,
to numb your penance swept.
Leaving an imprint of memory kept as plum-line erect.
In the depths of the forest, her essence will remain,
a powerful muse, never to wane.
For she is a poet's dream, an excuse so rare,
relished relic of the gone insane.
Captivated, beyond complain,
the Satyr's forehead yields sign, pops a vein.
How do I acquire a place where I can forgive?
How can I stop blaming myself for my mistakes?
I can't recall the version of "Intrinsic", but it's conflictive,
None can quash them If you can't forgive rattlesnakes.
It's difficult to forgive wrongdoers who won't swage,
It's cruel to excuse inner suffering from a rapist's rage,
It's difficult to grace louts who have killed your family,
Spirits will not retaliate but can whip you clearly.
No, I'm not a saint; failure is not the same as forgiveness.,
That doesn't refer I must trust or favor the chorus,
He seems angel but he throws his seat through the window,
He is tiled with a shabby female tattoo on his elbow.
I felt vulgar, stupid, and useless,
Close to the leech and slimy worm, that's sageness,
Every smile contains a malicious chart, so I lack faith,
I endure on wobbly legs, wiping away tears and scathe.
How can I resist the urge to do things right?
Some people mind me a skeptic. My kids guess I'm bright,
In fact, they suppose I'm an incredible winner,
If they view suffering, it will improve my manner.
No one understands what I endure,
I am not in a position to reveal such rancor,
I'm tired of seeing and living a shabby life,
I wanted a widely used headline in some rife.
The tombs of our ancestors are everywhere,
Earth's soil is the body's dust, walk lento, and care,
The suffering of death is greater than the joy of birth,
O cooing doves bestow to the weeping, some mirth.
Some actions are held liable, but none are shrewd,
Every devout soul has a past, and every deceiver is lewd,
Who can you forgive if not the toughest opponent?
You are fully ungrown with this Atonement.
The blast radius of your grief can harm the soul,
What if the people around you are shown a rays hole?
What if you cling to someone else's roots to be injured?
It all begins with a runic visceral fear of the biohazard.
I select my destiny and discover myself,
Say farewell to my harsh youth with purity and pelf,
Today I saw the opposite of what you taught me,
I also forgive you for everything before I flee.
1st Place Contest Win.
Written: June 25, 2022
Forgiveness Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
You are scared
You are scared, of the cage you think love puts you in
So much so, that you have not realized the cage you put yourself in for being scared to be loved
And through eyes
That does not make you free
Or wild
Or this out of the box thinker
It just makes you scared
It makes you fear life
You have been so hurt by whom ever
That you fear giving yourself completely to someone
Because if you do that
If you surrender
Then you know that you have no more control over you
For someone so free spirited
You fear love
I am not saying it is a good thing or a bad thing
But nonetheless, it is your thing
And in fearing love
You are going to run into yourself every single time
I can tell you want connection
I can tell you crave intimacy
But you will not allow you to be open to love
Love is not a cage
It is the most freeing feeling, that has ever come into existence
It is not to put anyone in a cage, but only to allow them to love you
So you have the will to want to live
To crave to live
You no longer crave to live
You only live by rules and routine
True love
Is unconditional and it is free
And those who knows its power, knows not to ever take advantage of it
It will never put you in this cage
Or want you to stop living life
And those who want to cage you
Are those who want to do nothing but trap you
Want to control you
And nothing more
That is not love if someone wants to do that to you
The best way I can describe love verus no love
Is that love knows one day it will have to let you go
But in doing so love will continue to love
It is not going to stop because you are no longer around
And with no love, it knows if it lets you go that it will not continue to love
It does not know how to survive without you
Because it has attached itself like a leech
But if its real love, if it is true
It wants to open the door to the cage that you and others have placed you in
It wants to open that door an allow you to flow freely
Into the unknown
And into the universes beauty
And I only hope one day, that you are conscious enough to realize, that love has entered your life
And I hope one day you will be open enough to receive it when it does
Until then
I recall it was just the other day
Featured in the daily for which we pay
Your blown-up photo splashed across
The front page for all to gloss
Your background and your virtues extolled
For your wedding bells were soon to toll
With a king-in-waiting as the groom
You would wilt or you would bloom
For marriage makes or marriage breaks
And happiness, it gives or takes.
Demure and with dimpled smile
With an innocent heart, free of guile
The press was exuberant, so were we
You were the most charming in the royal family.
Welcomed all across the globe
The royal couple widely roved
Ambassadors of all things good
Displaying virtues like royalty would
You touched hearts wherever you went
Concern and compassion were your strength.
You were blessed in due course
With two sons that God had chose
Then differences with the prince surfaced
And you lost face, where you once graced
And while your marriage began to flounder
Your man, the prince continued to blunder
On the treacherous rocks of marital infidelity
You were shattered – your happiness was the casualty.
You decided to go your separate ways
Those were also the wishes of the palace
The trauma of separation was sheer hell
The ways of royalty were beginning to tell.
Now, hordes of newsmen invaded your privacy
In your land and beyond, you became a refugee
The air was also rife with rumours
Of liaisons and friendships and misdemeanours
Your saddest day though, was the divorce
Of you, whose touch was like the kiss of a rose.
And alone, sweet Princess, you forged along
Your grace, in adversity, inspired many a song
Of worthy causes, you were still a crusader
And you remained ever, a loving mother.
It is said, you had found love at last
And the leech like lensmen went wild with thirst
For photos which augment tabloid sales
They chased you in cars and astride motorcycles.
For you, a Parisian tunnel was the end of the road
You didn’t reap in life, what you had sowed
And while your life ebbed within the wreck
The paparazzi zoomed in, to make hay off the break
Your blood-spattered close-ups drove them to frenzy
As you lay helpless, unattended and in agony.
And later in the night, mercifully all was darkness
The world woke to a tragedy caused by sheer madness
08/20/2012
---------------------
In glowing light you saturate them in words of precious gold, honors adorned by you electing them to be your true friends. Telling me that you adore them, love them, so; that they listen quite often to what you say, that you can tell them anything without fear of them judging you and all the while I listen to such high praise. As you bestow upon them the highest honor one can receive from you-the gift of true friends- I listen, but I can’t help it as my mind wonders ‘where do I fit among those you praise’? Between the lines I remain, unsure as to where I truly belong.
Can I find myself; the monster, the witch, amongst these silver knights of yours, or shall I stay hidden, beside myself watching, loving, caring for you from afar?
I never really know just where I stand; I don’t know what or who I am to you.
But on you go about them, your true, amazing friends as I listen, secretly listening wish I too, could make you so happy. I hope that maybe someday, you will see just what you mean to me, that you’ll understand you are my one true friend-My best friend. The only one who has stayed by my side? And I’ll continue to listen to you. Continue to read all you write for the others, and I’ll continue to give you all I have until you hold the entirety of my heart in your hand until there’s nothing more of me but emptiness and all I have you shall receive, as it’s reserved for just you until the very last breath I have leaves me.
Never will you really know how your lack of words is so much louder than any words that could ever be spoken. But still I keep everything for you because you are everything to me-my best friend, the only one to have ever stuck around…I so wish I could do the same, but I am not like the others. I am the nothing that fills the empty space around you, the nothing that hovers and clings to you like a leech. I am a nobody, a nothing but a ‘someone’…
A someone unknown to most, a someone who cannot express a damned thing in a way that makes sense.
But still I sit by you, I stand by your side and hope you know I am here for you; always here forever. If ever you need someone to lean on, someone to carry you up the mountain of turmoil…I will.
Red power mode
White digital
Blue logo
My, oh my ...
sweet apple pie!
Patriotic American cheese is turning sour Kraut commie
Democracy is Wisconsin curdling ... penicillin shot
needed between the ailing ballot box,
sho’ ain’t Louisiana Purchase forthcoming
Lady Liberty is bowing face down, Kansas Toto-style,
to Kremlin oligarchy ...
didn’t take much to bend with Washington wavy subservience
It’s an Idaho russet Ruskie crying shame
Couch the Benedict-ion omelette breaking news:
Missy Freedom done Alaska huskie hussy sold herself
to be a Soviet satellite skirt muzzled tramp mule
Red power mode
has taken cyber control of all voter confidence
White digital bar-code
activate the Manchurian self-destruct sequence
Blue logo brand ruble sold,
keeps the general populace straddling the fence
As they reality TV see their loose Lady Liberty
make a Texas loan star barracuda bow face
Proud North Dakota woman bending her knee,
acknowledging her Bolshevik bastard place
It’s a Kentucky bourbon crying shame
Democracy kissing the Politburo Czar ring
Bluegrass filly ruling class
selling the masses out for the Balaam green
Capitol Hill Star Spangled silent gag,
money mutes on a Pavel dog Con-stitutional prostitute
Wavy anthem cloth used as a snot rag,
Molotov noses following the Red Pied Pier booger flute
My, oh my ...
Marx Twain subversive tweet sweet apple pie!
Collaborator citizens being called patriotic comrades
Eating the Stalinist straw buries,
spit sprinkled with
Chernobyl pyramid scheme
propaganda whipped cream
Traitor taste the Taps Blue Fibbing beer,
free-market funeral dirge price gouge overflowing,
in the white Lenin toe-tag black body bag aisle
While the Ukraine lobbyist piggies
are covetously Crimea coffer crying
Oh, Nevada bordello bosom alligator weep ...
let the Alabama tick tears leech flow
down those Florida lemon-squeezed cheeks
It’s a New Mexico caliente green chile crying shame —
Them neo-Anazazi, gun-clicking squatters
getting a Wounded Knee ice gulag reservation claim
Lady Liberty doing an Independence bow face,
it’s a thirteen stripe, Siberian mongrel disgrace
THE SERIAL LEECH
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
He Was Here Today Promised Pie in the Sky
But We’ll Soon Discover its Just Another Lie
They’ll Say Anything That to Them Is a plus
But Once They Are in They Make Fools of Us
They Need Our Vote to Get Elected
First Order of Business Get re Elected
They Don’t Need Our Money for Their Campaign
They Get it from Those Who Have Plenty to Gain
A Freshman Representative from Any State
May Have Intentions That to Him Are Great
But When the Established Seniors Get His Ear
They’ll Guide and Instruct and Make it Clear
That When He Needs Help or Financial Aid
He Wont Qualify Til He Joins the Parade
The Parade of Voting for Unworthy Pork
These Projects Are like Eating Soup with a Fork
The Laws They Pass Affect You and Me
But They’re Exempt, Their Perks Are Free
I Question, Why We Give Billions Foreign Aid
To Tyrants and Despots , Makes Me Afraid
That Some of Those Funds May Surely Bounce
From the Tyrants Hands to Secret Accounts
They Pass out Flyers at County Fairs
After Two Terms They’ve Become Millionaires
If Things Get Dull and Their Attention Slips
They Plan Exotic Fact Finding Trips
Those Trips Would Cost a Fortune for You and Me
The Trips Are on Us and to Them Totally Free
Leech(2)
They Come Home and Host a Town Meeting
Take a Good Look at the Front Row Seating
But the Best of All Is a Fund Raising Event
Where the Affluent Givers Use Money Well Spent
Backing a Candidate Is a System Well Tested
It Yields Great Returns on the Money Invested
Once They’re Established with One Term or Two
Hard to Unseat Them the Vested Interest Is Glue
These Are Best Described as Serial Politicians
The Facts or a Lie Is Part of Their Rendition
They Support Their Lives at the Public’ S Expense
Taking Firm Positions on Both Sides of the Fence
They Have Little to Fear Protected by All
But If They Err and Cause Protection to Fall
Their Own Will Reject Them from Left and Right
None of Them Want to Be in the Public Spotlight
If He Is Found Guilty after Numerous Trials
You Will Find His Successor Fully Prepped in the Aisles