Long Lowlife Poems

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


Revelations About Dads Infamous Midnight Lectures

Revelations about Dad’s infamous midnight lectures...
woke up courtesy therapy

Especially during past session
on May eighth
two thousand twenty one
between the hours of five and
six o'clock post meridiem.

Between three and four score years ago
the following poetic ill winds did blow
yours truly felt like carrion
repurposed courtesy black crow
decimated to bajillion pieces
analogous to deaf eat, viz bitter foe
where within bared mine soul

telltale toxin did glow
yes dear reader cumulative wrath – hello
synopsis I invite thee to know 
why self esteem within me so low
lackluster love life accentuated
cuz yours truly 
never kissed under mistletoe

Dreadful homelife upon
exiting early adolescence
no bed of roses parental
wrath did commence
me (especially after
graduating bottom 1%)

scorned as among lowlife
versus being among
productive vested gents
I withstood blistering, mortifying
withering howling offense
yours truly uttered nary a peep.

I dreaded every malevolent utterance
when father requested he speak
not about some choice topic dejure
brought a twinkle to my eye,
but that all to familiar monologue
finding me standing like stone wall
hearing, tuning out with equally
predictable trademark demurely meek
pose with hands crossed against

chest of the then easily intimidated guy
despite feeling effects of utter ennui
and fatigue attempted to stand tall
against the tsunami verbal typhoon
itching to drown out said battle creek
when asked capisce? comprende? farshtayst?
looked blankly at floor well nigh
or pretended to stare at something extreme
fascinating on the kitchen wall

for he may as well asked if I understand
in an unfamiliar language such as Greek
most likely getting successful results
yammering away at common house fly
possibly seething inside (p’raps
equally swatted) ready to lash out into a brawl
held back by fear plus
in comparison to me pop –
just a itty bitty pipsqueak,
who felt onrushing and overpowering

desire to collapse and cry
compounded by growing urge
to urinate from that natural urethral call
spoke nada word, nor gave hint
of hearing from loathsome blather that did reek
like decomposition of fetid of dead
living entity that began to putrefy
which offal to mine ears, tugged impetus
under warm blankets to crawl!


Bash Putin Week-Now Open To Collaborations

We've been having a "Bash Santa" week, but I wrote limericks this morning about Putin breaking his tailbone.  So, Tom suggested we have a "Bash Putin" week.  Here are three more from me.  Please join in bashing that dastardly demon if you wish.


That Evil Putin fell down and hurt his tushy
He swore, "It was one of my bodyguards pushed me!"
Not wanting to be blamed
For he was so ashamed
That he had to change his pants cuz they were gooshy

It was on his darn keister that Putin landed
I'm going to be honest and very candid
He was chasing a skirt
When the scumbag got hurt
While being frisky with her, he was caught red-handed

Now he can't sit in a chair on his derriere
Cuz that lowlife tried to ruin the innocent, Claire
It's his tailbone he broke
His neck I'd like to choke
He's worse than Hitler, the annihilator Herr
                         Written by Jenna Logan


V. Putin has fallen on his tush
Pity was not in a thorny bush
Put him on a chain gang
Better yet, let him hang
Then let us have in Russia a putsch!

Arrogant Putin's butt is sore
Love this special news, tell us more
The ass is hurtin'
The world is certain
Putin needs to be shown the door.
              Written by L. Milton Hankins


Putin is a fascist like Hitler, no doubt 
That's what he really is all about
He fell on his a.r.s.e 
Emitting methane garse 
And learned it's three Reichs you're out!

Putin to his guards was accusatory 
So let us embellish on that story 
Shoved down from his thrown 
Cracked his smug coccyx bone 
This tail-ends his self-proclaimed glory
              Written by Robert Gorelick



Vlad Putin was dealing with state affairs 
On his way back he skidded down the stairs
You could smell the foul gas
Cos' he ruptured his a.s.s
 No get well wishes because nobody cares. 

He'd fallen over and broke his a.s.s. bone 
A guard rushed over when he heard a moan
Hard luck you commie jerk
Cos'  it's karma at work
Start praying now for your sins and atone
                   Written by Tom Cunningham
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Need I Say More Duhhhh

There is a time post mortem intertwined in the sickosocio scheme of thoughtless thug things reflecting 
in a morbid mirror mantle miniscule memberance of total times timid. How do u resurface the old times 
for your perservant to retro hold and resubmit inheritant
herient inheirency heriarchy to your you off spring the capalto 
able incapable sociomeasures of cool yet unpredetermined human mosaics. 
Prism a cameo contrivance with cumulo capable cruel conspiracies. Watch while unlimit 
my self selves to an appleant analogous **** appetities  announcing all is well that 
ENDS WELL. Copious credence couples our co current exoexistence with a degraded
deluge of not guilty by reason of you are and idiot!!!!!! Thank any legal god that technomorons
preclude the rational reason preplanted brain cell cortex countenance required for prepost pitiful
civil problem solving as an archaic form of all that exists is natural in its circumfrance 
anatomical indifference whereby an initial topical tone approportioned is aforementioned 
esquire ano acquired in its literal latent lotioned spreadacre entirety. Call me
what u want but I will not delve give in to the pre dis prosed **** contrivity
of  pre ambled rhyme ,grafted guilded, some stupid pseudo format u like or have slept with to confound the poet powers that could be, creep it to yrself lowlife, insecure innane idiot so u can prove yrself stupid superior to all that applies as a PREMIUM MUST MISER MEMBER. GLWT. Read poems by, 
OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!. For4give me 4lord. I am a 4lowpolife cause I donot/didnot/willnot pay the poem piper a
4po 4price for 4premium 4importance in the PAID PRELUDE of LOOK AT ME LOWLIFES. M

Premium Member High Powered Fences

High Powered Fences, 
Beyond Your Vote

Armchair Politian's sitting beside Ceasar(a), 
believing or at least making believe...
that they are for the people, 
and not against. 
"They" have been there too long.
Rot is strong, coming from the corpses. 

They point thin-sharp fingers,
and makeup rules, 
using the tools, of the trade. 
Lies like snakes, 
that live on both land and water, 
in every form of underling,
pressed into service...
for the queen, of nothing. 

Lowlife voters pleading for honesty, 
from dark web media that has sold out. 
The land-turtles living in office, 
fighting over the scraps of the victory garden, 
a warning of war already in the distance. 
Like bugs eating their own fallen, 
while striving to start a new colony, 
they chant over the electric lines...
martyr-ism. 
Of a hero, no, of a monster. 
How is lifting evil up okay?
If not backed by the lies of a religion, 
as dark as those that hide their face, 
like cowards do, 
and bow. 

You have read it at the end of every book. 
It is the same sunrise and sunset. 
It is just another day, 
no matter what the media say. 

They scream and yell and cry, 
like Hinny Penny and the Sky. 
The facts quit... not quite the case. 
The prayers of a country, 
saints gathered knowing all are coming. 
Standing up for the weak, 
taking back and remembering. 
Waking up the old to dance again...
on the government franchise, 
we should own from the illegal gotten gain, 
the children of the political elite, 
and supreme,  cheerleaders of the third world. 

The larks in the media,
busy telling us...
all they want us to know. 
The reality is "they" do their best business, 
lying to us all. 
There will be an accounting. 
There will be, a fall.
The time is coming. 
That is the call.
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Tribute One

Voice of Agony 

Beat me till they were exhausted 
Scored me till they felt the pains
Heavy on their tongues, knocked 
Me till they felt enough themselves 
That’s how they ate up their free time 

Everything good meant for me, these
Bullies seized it for their gains, life sake
Anything bad to them, they shoulder it
On my limp for I became there refuse
Bin and they sort be Queens and Kings

Anything done wrongly, vehemently I
Was pointed responsible for the wrong 
Doing and all my good deed shuttered 
Just neglected and ignored, days past
For all to be rotten in time... Victimised

To whom I report this tatty retention’s 
Torrid times of my harsh life style awry
For father had long gone and was amid
My great great ancestors, verily disbelief 
Was that my pillar was devoured by earth 

In minds the question burst each day of 
My lowlife, “Who-else will rescue me
From the Den of savage lions” For they
Readily printed R.I.P on the tombstone 
Of the sepulchral monument which he lay

The hero of my life... In the memory of him
I can only say “ Lord as the shepherd of all
Why not give me the chance, even for once
A glance in grief at my father before your 
Performed deed that no one can skip a leap.

Truly when they said misfortune  favours 
The orphan, my life is the evident deed of
The phrase, I brawl working my back out
For the pun no gains without pains became
My moto after the demise, the pains in vain

Like a lily amid thorns equates the life left
To reach for the sunlight I longed, resilient 
In the word that was left for my poetry to
Tell the intolerable suffering bred each day
Which latter torments my soul and body...
dad


These City Eyes

"THESE CITY EYES"


ex-wives and mothers watching 
from their porches as they 
wait for child support.
fathers who don't see their 
children but murder 
themselves to pay for that 
*****'s lifestyle return 
home.
down the street cars fight 
for parking, cars go in and 
out of the driveway as 
shopping carts wait for a new
lover's hands.
they all stare looking at me 
walk and they wonder.
as I walk on, Gould plays in
my headphones. 
I see Gould close his eyes
during his hand movements on 
his piano.
these city eyes see one thing 
and it causes them to reach 
for their cell phones.
the number will be 911.
but it won't get called just 
yet, they stay ready for
the moment I make a criminal 
move.
no one stops me to ask who 
I'm listening to.
no one cares of the books 
I've read today.
no one cares why my heart is 
in another city with the only
woman I've ever loved and at 
that, more than myself. 


they've conceived a result by 
conceiving their end to the 
start of mine.
they see the brown skin, the 
bald head, the long socks,
the white shoes and ravaged 
face on a man who should 
look younger.
they never ask why.
they know nothing of me or 
the children that I've 
fathered. 
they know nothing of me or 
the tears that have fallen
from my face like bombs 
dropped in a war.
they know nothing of me or 
the nights I've given
my sickness to the typewriter 
and pacific.
all they know, is the fear in 
the unknown instead of 
finding the light in the 
darkness. 
today these city eyes see a 
criminal lowlife and not the 
poet,
as Gould and I live in 
beauty.



By: Chicano Eddie
9-16-2016

Premium Member Lowlife in high places

I once thought it was
about power...once thought
it was about wealth and
greed -- now am convinced

it is simply, pure evil -- 

the Devil makes bad use
of politicians --  

Don't give the Present Vice
a larger slice of your liberty!

Men competing in woman sports,
sexual organs surgically altered,
physically removed from otherwise
healthy children, without 
parental consent. 
 -- You may not be a Jew or Christian...
but we all are something! Marxists
will come for you and yours as well,
when you dare exhibit any qualities of
self determination. 

Vote wisely.  Don't turn Orwell from
novelist into Prophet!
--------------------------------------------------

(Capitalism is the best system.  But...but...but...as already stated, absolute power corrupts.  Capitalist compete with one another.  For greater wealth and influence.  To get better workers, they need to pay more than competitors...which leads to the rise of a Middle Class.  As that middle class becomes larger in numbers, more wealthy, they are perceived as a threat to presently entrenched institutions of financial and political monarchy.  For self-preservation the ruling Capitalist class feels need to shrink, if not eliminate entirely the middle class.  Starting by extinguishing Free Speech, and Free And Fair Elections.  Suppressing or eliminating the Middle Class is what they find in common with the Communist.  So, the backdoor unholy alliance is formed. Again, just my opinion.  I have no financial nor political degrees.  If anything I have stated is new to you, and of interest, do research.  Your grandchildren will bless you or curse you accordingly.)
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.

Un Plus Encumbered

Encumbered about with the many twists and turns of life. 
Traveling down a long road, picking up every hitchhiker along the way.
Carrying each one alone; being conscientious to not drop one, not even the lowlife.
Contemplating each step, apprehensive of the outcome, will they go or will they stay? 

Slowly sinking to the floor, the weight one can no longer bare alone,
Lamentably, there is no one who can to help; all the road signs were ignored.
Struggling with each step, knowing the perspicuous choice, the way has been shown.
Why carry this load that can walk on its own, the facts are there, this is untoward.

Unsure of the next step one by one they get set down disconcerted by this news,
Some begin to lie and claim they cannot walk, so they get picked up again out of pity.
Soon it becomes a revolving door, they begin to come and they go as they choose.
Weighed down again unable to breathe, there’s a need for a break through; a need to be free.

In one colossal move, arms stretched out like the horizon at sunset,
A spinning takes place, like the agitator of a washing machine. 
All those hanging on are violently shaken off, thrown too far to pose a threat,
Running at full speed from the chaos of them all, creating all this space in between.

Unencumbered now, breathing never seems so pleasant, walking is now a run.
Flying isn’t far behind, as the relief and acceptance is now at hand.
Adding two letters to a word looks small on paper, like all that’s added is a un.
Per Contra in life it’s a freedom, it’s a matter of the soul, it’s a gesture of taking a stand.


C @ A.L.M. 2014
© Amber Moll  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Lost

I often think back on life, the memories I've
tried to erase
When the pain became too much, I'd do anything to help me escape

Everyones judgments speak loudly, they say that the choice is mine 
But I'd give anything for them to just feel what I feel inside

Maybe then they could understand, I never pictured this life for myself
Somewhere along the line, life got the best of me, I became too overwhelmed

I've been fighting a long hard battle, didn't just give up and lay down 
When that last straw was pulled, all I wanted was to drown

I wanted to forget, had to numb it anyway
that I could
My shoulders felt so heavy, carrying more
than one person ever should

You call me a junkie, a lowlife, a bad mom, but that is not who I am
I'm an addict who lost their way, an addict whose life got out of hand

I can tell you I'll stop, that I won't  up again But that's not the way it ever turns out, it's a never ending battle within

We are all different, we all have our own flaws 
Im laying mine out on the table, this hard truth is ugly and raw

I know I want to get out, be the best mom I can be Give my children a great life, happiness and sobriety

But this addiction has its claws so deep in
my back, it's hard to see the other side
I cant take back the pain I've caused, just
know how hard I try

Maybe one day I'll be forgiven, I never wanted to let anyone down 
I still am that same person somewhere inside, I might be lost but I hope to be found
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Commandments Lead To Advancement

Excuses, Excuses will not do!
We have a duty in life to love, that is what is true
To forgive means to do so with all our heart
Not to place the blame on God for what we did start
What we sow is what we reap
Each commandment was written to keep
Always think twice, never leap
Justice will come to those who are good
Welcome to life just imitate Robin Hood
Give to the poor, forget your greed
Don't be lazy, hasten your speed
Remember adultery is a mortal sin
So is killing, that's plain grim
As for stealing what kind of a person does that?
Normally a lowlife or a spoilt brat
Why bother allowing jealousy of another's wealth get in your way?
You'll have more riches if you favour God and pray
Love your neighbour even if they're not your type
Your graces on earth will treble minus the hype
Thank God for every new day
When you're angry, Don't insult His name, that's lame 
Remember Sunday? Go say Hello
It's one hour of the entire day, make an effort to go
We've all been bitten one way or another
At times from within our own family or another
People will fill your head with lies
They're not good but they swarm around you in life like flies
Don't listen to what these other people say
They don't want you to obey
Never forget your parents, without them you wouldn't be here
Give them a good life, fill it with cheer
A good heart is what makes man
All Sins are forgiven if you repent, that's the best part of God's plan!
Form: Verse

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