Long Loath Poems
Long Loath Poems. Below are the most popular long Loath by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Loath poems by poem length and keyword.
Why are all these hash slingers
Constantly there on my TV?
When did the ability to cook
Become reason for celebrity?
Eating for me is just like
Shovelling coal on a fire,
Just adding fuel to keep
Your energy levels higher.
It’s a bonus if it tastes good,
An even bigger bonus still
If it quietly does that and,
More importantly, doesn’t kill.
As for that fine dining lark,
Fashion apparently demands
They poke and finger it about but
Seldom seem to wash their hands.
I’m just a lower class peasant
But one thing I loath and hate
Is having to send my food back
To be properly served on a plate.
And as for the prices they charge,
Why are those in the catering trade
Constantly quoted in statistics as
Some of the lowest of the low paid.
I really don’t wish to be seen as
Pouring insults upon insults
But shouldn't these foodie quirks be
Confined between consenting adults.
Give me a roadside burger van.
You can almost guarantee it’s clean
For sure as heck a Food Inspector
Will not too long ago have been.
See a bunch of parked lorries
And your checking is complete
Had it been below our standard
They’d have voted with their feet.
So, you compile your list of
Good honest eating places
And in time come to recognise
Some well known familiar faces.
A quick greeting as you slip in
Courteously switch off the phone
And get ready to join in with
The latest rant or moan.
A bucket full of coffee,
A bacon butty in hand
And well before it’s time to go
Solve the problem of the land.
Cradled in her loving arms,
Swaddled in his cotton cloth,
Still Born.
Her piercing cries split through the air,
Thundering,
Echoing,
Behind those heavy doors, the sterile corridors.
Deafening silence
He bowed his head in disbelief,
Father,
Shaking like a leaf,
A lump,
A sore throat,
A whipping of the heart.
She took the baby close to her,
Peaceful,
Final,
Sleep,
“Breathe, little one”
“Wake up please”
She whispered
Denial
Hope
Evaporated like the morning dew,
Tears heavy on her cheeks,
She knew.
He knew.
Nothing any one could do.
Behind those heavy doors, the sterile corridors.
His grief, their grief,
A tear ran down his cheek,
He clasped his face,
Eyes red,
He sobbed,
Robbed,
Immense their loss,
His heart wrenched,
A thud!
He collapsed into a heap,
Behind those heavy doors, the sterile corridors.
Loath to part
She gave the baby up,
Her pain,
Anger,
Hate,
God,
Fate.
The nurse,
A job,
Her curse,
To Bare witness,
Pain,
suffering,
Loss,
Behind those heavy doors, the sterile corridors.
A sudden shift
I felt my spirits lift
Then the spotlights' glare
And I'm left standing there
Too new to identify:
An imperfect alibi
Their surgical stares
Dismembering me
With wry deft precision
Paralyzed by pompous glares
Cursing my decision
To com here willingly
And climb their golden stairs
Their spotlights fade
No jury heard my case
Their judgments made
Their cruelty bares one face
Their hearts: a crimson blade
Their eyes bestow disgrace
On my low inferior grade
Am I too much a fool to care
My brands blazed as I stepped
The high and mighty scare
Easily as my forbearance crept
In crushing bounds echoing
In the silence seized.
All eyes hollowed as one fainted
Their hallowed night tainted
My mottled old soul sainted
And thus, the rest of the night
Fell before me
On bended knee.
Oh, how I loath a formal party
The rumor mill is printing already
Some joker introduced as, Eddie
Ask If me and Joan, from accounting-
Were going steady.
From there-
The casualties just kept mounting
As I move forward in this life,
I continually remember what's been done.
Hilarities and happiness, sorrows and strife,
ever feeling like yesterday's son.
Some time ago I felt constrained by such,
as if yesterday's gravity held me fast.
Since, there's been happenings much,
a gradual release from chains in the past.
Yet I find, that release is part ruin, part reprieve,
from moments wholly sweet, wholly bitter, some both.
Some yesterdays I'd gladly of myself bereave,
while others, to divest my soul of, I'm loath.
I wake others in the night, cursing my post,
while I still sleep, plagued by today's grip.
In comparison, to the hardest yesterday I'd be host,
if only the Corps being a part of them, could I slip.
In every way, despite looking to tomorrow,
I seem to embody those whose course has run.
From yore and those before, words and ways I borrow,
ever and anon feeling like yesterdays' son.
A soldier, sailor in search of his song, seeking shoreward,
yearning for his own while echoing tales already spun.
He may be looking back, but is always moving forward,
and in this way I feel I will ever be yesterday's son.
i wonder if i ever
let go this pen
and no longer gave
the words their say
would that freedom
reshape the man i am
would i rue the day
that poetry
doesn't have a hold of me
the very thought
makes me afraid
it would be like
letting go the hand
of my closest friend
that always gets her way
yet there seems to be
comfort in this cancer
pleasure in its pain
am i truly looking
for an answer
would i listen anyway
to the contemplate
of the letting go
of this pen
i tightly grip a hold
my friend my lover
i at times loath
is something
i may never know
I watched him tear our democracy down
And break the promises of his oath
I posted protest memes and news
A degree of ultimate loath
Now our allies are all gone
The free world nations be
I will continue to post his lies
Until they come for me
France gave us a great gift long ago
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses
In a dictatorship no longer rings true
A falling empire as each day passes
Canada and Mexico our long time friends
No longer treated as they should be
I stand with freedom and democracy
Until they come for me.
They came for migrants and honest judges
They came for our nation’s security
I will protest until they are gone
Or until they come for me,
Overwhelmed dark vehemence
i swedges each breathe
for emancipation from shackles of
dark streets i walk
pawing of his covetous touches
loath tie-ins running since ages
serfdom of a man's wench
or from the core of philtre of miseries
Beneath my mass
My soul espoused
The overwhelmed dark vehemence
It is nor cremated neither cemented
'Rape her once
Rape her twice
Rape her enormous
In a troop or sole
Arouses the torment in her veins
And her blood starts rotting away
She greedily quest the weapon
The weapon to shred him as he devoured whole of her masses into pieces in one bite
The weapon to shred the mayhem that devoured her halcyon days'
Beneath my mass
My soul espoused
The overwhelmed dark vehemence
It is nor cremated neither cemented
Which one is your chosen poison?
I dare you to say none
But both you and I know
Out of seven there will be one
Let's go through them one at a time
Come to a possible solution
For if you're going to go to hell
At least know for which Deadly Sin
Are you always yearning for something?
Possessions or wealth, do you feel a need?
Constant thoughts of want on your mind
All bought out by Greed
Sumptuous feasts with plenty to consume
Indulging in delights with no company
Excessively eating more than is required
Extravagance brings with it Gluttony
Desires that need fulfilment
Thoughts and actions to some disgust
Craving pleasures of the body
Satisfying the craving of Lust
What someone else has do you desire?
Think you're better than many?
Jealousy to some it is known
That green eyed monster Envy
Unwilling to get too physical
Lazing around like a loath
Failure completing that which is required
Characteristics common with Sloth
Always in a rage, seeking out revenge
A vindictive nature enabling you to bash
Extreme anger coupled with hate
A furious temper known as Wrath
Belief that you are superior
Always feeling very self satisfied
Called vain on many occasions
This arrogance is Pride
No one is perfect these sins are proof
But now you can try to dispel
Behaviour and actions of any given sin
You may even stay out of hell!
05/02/2016
I feel numb beneath this skin…
This skin from deep within…
I’m thin and then…
I’m fat with loath again…
Greed I feed on
Envy and so on…
I’m a shining sun…
A dusked dawn…
I don’t feel pity
I know I look shitty
I might look funny…
Expressions lost due to exposure of shame and calamity
Let the crowd feed the fire
I silently scream aloud in my desire
In the recesses of my brain,
I see you catch the I-Don’t-Care train
Fine, just leave…
I’ll sit here and grieve
But, I will man up to what I believe –
You will reap what you sow
God’s wisdom was hard to receive,
But, I’m not hard of hearing
I find His word endearing
To my eager ears…
That want to hear more…
When more was nothing more than a whisper away
It’s like the night, taking a bow to yesterday
What was I waiting for?
Impatience had been in my blood for so long
Patience was like re-learning a song
From childhood…
But, I’m good…
Maybe a tad misunderstood…
But I’m a good blood…a stick in the mud or a splinter on a wood
Let the trees and the breeze entwine in my ears of tears and fears
Let them feed on what’s left of me
Like a hippo in the water, swimming in the lake of Lonely
Greek and Roman mythology ate me up like a brownie in the hand of a child
Reborn and born in this moral world…
Immortal in the Holy Spirit…
Truly, sincerely, and in all kindliness…
I’m still reduced to this belittling distress
You walk through the metal detector
You look at me with a deep seated scorn
You loath that I made you remove your stuff
You had to take off your shoes belt and jewelry
You’re thinking “I’m no criminal or terrorist so why me”
I am only doing the job the government requires of me
I am not the reason you are harassed and had to partially strip
I do empathize with you seeing I have to do the same thing too
No one cares that I am a Screening Officer I am searched when I travel
The government says what’s good for the goose is good for the gander
You want to get mad at someone then look in the right direction
The ones who blatantly took the lives of our families and friends
Who took the choice of traveling to most places away forever
Who took the privilege of carrying most things on board away
The freedom to travel with our liquids and gels peanut butter and jam
Don’t blame me because I am risking my life to keep you safe
Don’t blame me for someone not caring about your fate
Don’t blame me for what Mr. Harper and Mr. Obama says
Or for what the UK says is their Standard Operating Procedures (SOP)
Don’t blame me I am just the messenger that holds many lives in my hand