Long Madman Poems
Long Madman Poems. Below are the most popular long Madman by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Madman poems by poem length and keyword.
Chromatic
Voglio chetu sia mio
Ibi locutus sum
J 'espere que je ne le
regretterai pas
Na ia jeg takkle meg
selv
Daar is geen skeuring
tussen jou en my nie
Es un honored haberna
sentido asi
Jeg vil gifte meg med
deg: Ja sir re'
....................................
Composed by
Griot Apala
Ritmo Escale
Cancion Sonido
Armonia Letra
Benga Gnawa
and
Forro Frevo
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
From The Movie
"Simon Pure, The long way Around"
a story told by motion picture soundtracks
featuring Sincerus Fakta and
Fatto Frevo
Themed from 1999
"Brazilian Desert Beach bum's
find a treasure map, and one
of the guy's inherits a fortune
but in order to collect they have to
raise catt Brazil for one
year, as a cohesive crew
who show the caretaker
that they are
responsible people and the
inheritor makes compited decisions.
Above the Line
the film is said
to be targeted
to people who'll come back to movie
theators Twenty years from now
to see it agin.
The music alone is enough
to see this film. This one
has the magic number.
It's one to inspire artsy films for decades.
Lyric written by
Scherzo " Samba" Pizzicato
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"Having a Nemesis and creating another one sound's like something a Madman inspires to do"
" Bullsh4t, man! Bull! you stray from her one more time and I will exstarct the closest thing to hell your dumbass could ever want to see. Punks like you alway get the pretty ones, treat them like whores and don't think people care about you or what you're going through, truth is it aint even worth it! A woman is smart enough to love and mean enough to understaan, but if you cross her one more time, she'll be demonifed enough to mortar, remeber I'm ah loving fool waiting to for you to get in my face!"
" It's as strange as you make it: and as familair as you allow it to be, just remember you aint right in this fight Honey! Woman been doing this for years and you think you done scoreed the big one, He might be gaming ya!"
" True love conqueres all it seeps into the soul and intoxicates the spirt: : I aint seen nothing here that does that for me, even though I am in love with him. It's fun tricking him: his former freind wanted me to be pregant with his child, and look him in his eyes and tell him he was the daddy, all along while he and I would only know the differance: I thought about it!"
A Determined Devil -
As I lay another cedar beam plumb for our home
smoke plumes, serpentine and sulphuric, interrupts the sunshine,
I look below the ridge, Eve standing silent
with weapon in hand,
a woman so grand,
panic has no rest in her person, fear has no finger on her pulse,
I move like lightning, to war by my Lady's side,
Valley vandels have come, scortching field fruit,
searing insidious signs into our peach and apples trees,
incarnate, the Devil disheveled with a defunct posse of three
approaches me, hailing not from a city of Angels but from a ghetto of ghouls,
mean and ugly like ignorance injured by the ivory tusks of innocence,
a madman desperate for the destruction of Divinity,
unskillful and wishful for lies to come alive,
he's a scribbler scribe, a dribbler riddler
a stereotype simpleton, frontin' and gruntin'
fallin short of the great gangsta idol,
just a stereotypical imbecile, a pencil with no lead,
burpin chicken feathers claimin them to be the silk quill of Angels,
I turn to Eve now
with eyes saying now is the time for demise,
briefly, before I strike steel across the throat of Hell itself
our first promise to each other repeats in my memory,
"I forever fight for you"
as her brown eyes convince me of loyalty, love royal,
she rips her blade through his groin
as I open a river across the throat of this terrible thug...
Raising A Tribe -
Eve, this land is already populated by persons whom seem like us,
although different too, like seasons in soul,
divergent in their dreams for dynasty,
they have dialects from a depth of Dawn
that awoke long before we arrived to thrive here,
customs peculiar as shapes to stones,
Father never spoke of these klans
who strive to survive outside the mercy of His guarded Garden,
competitive as clouds in a shrunken sky,
I met a merchant, a servant to trade,
he told of banners and blood, laws and legacies
cultures savage and cities of crime,
gleamed from telling stories of wealth and wonder,
said they worship their Gods more ways than gold folds,
consider what we have encountered Luv,
will our children slay or be slain, war or work
love or get lost in conquest,
you, as a Woman of God's glorious gambit
have a harvest of futurity's face in the balance,
will you deliver the destiny of our union into this drama...
Justin A. Bordner...J.A.B. 2021
Impossible mission, nonetheless
eschatological, diabolical, critical...
dire straits betokens armageddon.
Come Tuesday, November 3, 2020
mandatory voting obligation to oust
horrible malevolent commander in chief.
Spanish and English writing on border wall
bespeaks impending apocalyptic windfall
weapons of mass destruction concomitant ashfall
brinkmanship ticks doomsday clock, hence the call
muster civilians and military troops coup to marshall
tuckered bands overthrowing pathological
megalomaniac haint your
homegrown garden variety apprenticed screwball,
Née commandeer of human abuses free world oh God
this exclamation ejaculated yours truly house atheist
runs ruinously, reprehensibly, rampantly roughshod
scaring out bejesus within winkin blinkin and nod
land of powdermilk biscuits and raw bits promises
to become ground zero predicated boneheaded clod.
Atrocious, cantankerous, egregious,
grievous, ignominious... dispensing
most every venerated, ushered, touted,
sacred, revered, pronouncing
progressive amendments dead
on arrival blithely shredding to tatters
hard won reforms since Fred
Flintstone days of yore shelving
codied, ratified, sanctified... shed
jeweled important legislation,
plus Russian musk cows to wed
Putin on the ritz.
Blasphemous, cantankerous, deleterious...
execrable folly... doth seed
subsequently begetting and breed
anarchy, chaos, hell, plus helps
foment pernicious, ominous,
noxious, malodorous... misdeed
pitting one against another creed
internecine warfare, where liveried
troops don and trumpet
(auld) alternative energy
fighting gear powering, i.e. ac/dc freed
one or more dirty deed
done dirt cheap reducing at lightspeed,
the hard fought/won democratic
inalienable rights purportedly guaranteed
by United States constitution,
(though oft times bias, i.e. reed
anti semitism, charade, facade...) heed
trample equality, morality, universality...
making mockery (attested bleed
courtesy flagrant historical extant bigotry,
chicanery, depravity... greed).
Hence, I step off figurative soapbox
dodging any lobbed missiles or rocks
no surprise bullied by same jocks,
who tormented me during high school
probably tattooed, pierced, and bald of locks
unlike yours truly, he sports self
as aging pencil neck geek
wearing non matching shoes and socks.
Like a tumbleweed aimlessly blowing in the wind
across infinitely open and wide prairie home companion land
(which wasteland famously epitomized by T.S. Elliot)
a barren vista ravages metaphorical landscape
of one measly mortal malcontent male
bumping and scraping along accursed habiliment
just barely avoiding and dodging diabolical demons
mercilessly and unrelentingly ready
to seduce this somewhat sanguine Simian
who finds himself amidst the pitfalls
of a tortured and twisted existence
racked with pinions describe bing
a demonic dragon filled dungeon
damp, dark, demented domains –
a veritable no man’s land
impossible to escape no matter how fast I -
as a foo fighter flee
from the fearful, fierce-some phantasmagoric forms
figments of my imagination seemingly real
tangible as bone and flesh
who haunt sacred crowded house of slumber
transmogrify me into a loathsome madman
ranting raving senseless gibberish and sic gobbledygook
perceived as metaphysically n philosophically insane
as soundgarden syllabification
from one womanly World Wide Web wayfarer
which virtual vagabond venerates vowels
and possesses means and tees to till verse
akin to a sorceress who waves a magic wand
to produce supreme sentences
weaves tantalizing terrific tweed topographic tundra’s
that this admirer of her artful and colorful poetic endeavors
prompts me to accompany my mindscape
as a thought-provoking troubadour
amidst the information super byways and highways
along winding labyrinths of critical thinking
or simply stepping o'er rolling stones
of silly rhymes without wing less reason
all the while giving subtle egress
into that chamber of secrets
long kept shut tight to maintain
that sure footed stance of solitude
whose only entities happened
to constitute trappings of literary lugubriousness
those tombs of largesse identified
as great works and masterpieces of literature
yet careful to avoid complete intimacy
lest that cherished solitude shattered
and a heart rent asunder
twin tower ring inferno imp perils of loss that provide
an understandable cautionary tale
to the author of this rambling missive
a most profoundly perceptive acute Ape man
touched to the quick with a bit of angel dust
aware that this agonized and angst riddled arboreal beast
contents himself with the confines of cyberspace!
who is too busy fighting the devil,
all good energy eluded
if you truly understood yourself
you would not be so deluded
many fight an imagined internal
fear-
everyone allows the devil within
your nasty thoughts, never shared...
...madman exposed by the violent act...
lay dormant suppressed by false fear...
this knowing, this accepting,
a purely human observation,
blame God if you must you are
after all his miracle creation?
who pays for the lip
service to a religion
built on mans'
self destruction,
...devised by
corruption...
a religion built on
wars self sacrifice
, desperate
resurrection,
modified reincarnation,
how do you know, this religion is
not the devils' work?,
after all, there are more sinners inside
than outside of a church...
playing second fiddle to a man who
claims he is the annoited one,
this religious lip service,
could the annoited be a fraud?...no! thats right
God speaks to him, oh yeah nut jobs...
it's voices he heard...
if you were all together, free in your
mind-you would be able to see
how you are being fleeced
you wouldn't be so blind...
hey keep going to the preacher...
he's probably keeping you sane...
it's cheaper than doctor, financially
less of a strain...
but remember, just because you go to
church you're no better than me
just a little desperate, out of touch
with reality...
a lot of people these days stay away
from the pulpit, history reveals...
basically it's a weapon, it's a devil
filling your head with s#@t...
...many believers understand...this
religious clap trap in modern day
does not apply...
It is belief in ones self...this
you cannot preach or buy...
if you need someone to lecture you
on what is wrong from right...
to judge other people on any given
day or night...than you are in the
right place...
your mind is outdated
attend your weekly meetings
have your mind manipulated
hey whatever floats your boat...
whenever the day comes and you
decide to exit...
the people up here will still refer to you
as a mind deeply perplexed a thought
not easily rejected...
you have the answers,
they are in your head-but
you would rather listen to
a history, a reign of
madmen instead
CAN ONE BE ARRESTED FOR YELLING LIAR IN A CHURCH?
You pious people in your pews
All you reading about the arrival of some wondrously good news
A new horizon can’t you see?
Well imagine you were with my wife, infant child and me
We three had left together but suddenly there were four
And I’m not certain about much more
Four in the quietude of dripping rain
No one letting go of the pinching pain
because only the rain deserves such disdain
We picked up a hitchhiker as into rough waters we’d wade
And the gentleman told us to please call him ‘Suade’
And called this a “storm by madness made”
And then he made us walk blindly through the wood
Until he told us to stay precisely where we stood
in the wilderness it is a mean and uncertain gamble
As you amble through the briars and the brambles
You need to possess a lot of fortitude
Because the icy winds are oftentimes too rude
Suddenly Suede swung and that’s when my hope and strength were to fade
He rose up like an oak in a forest of fear and I opposing Suade
A madman, a maniac, a massacre made
And in that infinitesimal and infinite second, although I am a pacifist, I could have killed Suede
Then suddenly the fighting was done
As Suede screamed orders I just wanted us all to run
And doth did both men huddle close to his opponent
While adding Suede’s scent akin to camel dung to the troubles of his component
There were three of us and he was only one
But the one who wields the power is the one who wields a gun
His mind was set on our flower of a daughter whom he decided to pluck
Now let’s all go out and find her,yeah, lots of luck
Suddenly he just stole our baby away
I begged him to let our baby stay
Away I say, and gone perhaps for ever and good
Hidden n a new area, in a brand new neighborhood
All we wanted to do was give a ride and fill a need to help the needy
But some men are seedy and too many of them are greedy
His scowl was darkness, his blackish eyes seemed way too dim
And that’s virtually all we can remember of him
While the police find not the culprit in a world of the gross and the grim
While most of us believed us finding her were slim
My wife and I were defenseless and both our hearts were horrendously hurt
Oh, and we were only the second parents to use what we now named an “Amber Alert”
© 2011.….
Suspended . . . tormented, in a mind so distant
I arrive at the said destination with a sigh. . .
What I expect is mortifying
What lies ahead still remains a meddlesome mystery
The air is thin—the water droplets seem. . . warm
But I feel a coldness when they hit my skin
The skin that only once touched your hand. . . . .
It is comforting when surrounded by shadow
To feel the soft embrace of long-yearned rain
It is dully consoling to know I am Alone. . .
Chemical reactions are made in instances
Each second of despair heightened by the electrical pulses
Going mad when the waters clash
And the feelings of comfort are gone yet again
The thoughts that used to hold me up
Have collapsed from under me
And Alone is felt in a new shade…darker than the shadow of comfort
The tears replace the rain. . .
Boiling the skin on my face to redden and shame
The burn provides little distraction to despair
Knowing the one I love will never be here. . .
Even now I envy those who can speak…
Who scoff and spit—and whine, groveling in grit
Those who can see and clearly feel their enemy
How they spiritually dispose of their peer
Through lack of understanding and jeer
I would much easier embrace my darkest enemy,
Than be with the one I love
I would much rather abuse myself
Than lay a finger on the precious one who wrongs me
Because you have abandoned all thought of me. . .
Through your life and innocence,
You have harmed me—wronged me. . .
You were mistaken. . . .I can never understand you
Because I have never truly seen you
At times I can almost feel you. . .
But all I feel is pain
All I feel is the burning rain. . .
I envy those around you. . .
Like the madman straight out of prison
I even envy your opposers
In truth, I obsess over the thought
Of Alone:
The definition of “Without You”
. . .
Without you here,
I arrive at no destination
What lies ahead is only despair
The rain I feel . . . are tears—
Comforts that never last
And all that used to hold me up
Is merely a heart-broken collapse. . .
I never wished to cling onto your nonexistence. . .
Believe me—
All I ever wanted. . .
Was a thought
A. . .chemical reaction if you will
A simple “I am here for you”. . .
Without you, Alone, I confess,
Sometimes one can only dream
CAN ONE BE ARRESTED FOR YELLING LIAR IN A CHURCH?
You pious people in your pews
All you reading about the arrival of some wondrously good news
A new horizon can’t you see?
Well imagine you were with my wife, infant child and me
We three had left together but suddenly were four
And I’m not certain about much more
Four in the quietude of dripping rain
No one letting go of the pinching pain
because only the rain deserves such disdain
We picked up a hitchhiker as into rough waters we’d wade
And the gentleman told us to please call him ‘Suade’
A human storm by madness made
And then he made us walk blindly through the wood
Until he told us to stay precisely where we stood
in the wilderness it is a mean and uncertain gamble
As you amble through the briars and the brambles
You need to possess a lot of fortitude
Because the icy winds are oftentimes too rude
Suddenly Suede swung with a swipe and that’s when my hope and strength were to fade
He rose up like an oak in a forest of fear and I opposing Suade
A madman, a maniac, a massacre made
And in that infinitesimal and infinite second, although I am a pacifist, I could have killed Suede
Then suddenly I thought the battle was done
Yet and still Suede arose and I just wanted us to run
And doth did both men huddle close to his opponent
While adding Suede’s scent akin to camel dung as a component
There were three of us and he was only one
But the one who wields the power is he who wields a gun
His mind was set on our flower of a daughter whom he decided to pluck
The police assure us that they will find her, yeah, lots of luck
Suddenly he just stole our baby away
Away I say, and gone perhaps for ever and good
Hidden In a new area, in a brand new neighborhood
All we wanted to do was give a ride and fill a need to help the needy
But some men are seedy and too many of them are greedy
His scowl was darkness, his blackish eyes seemed way too dim
And that’s virtually all we can remember of him
While the police find not the culprit in a world of the gross and the grim
My wife and I were broken souls and both our hearts were horrendously hurt
Because there are too many inhabitants on this paltry planet who gave birth to the “Amber
Alert”
© 2011.….Poefree
POETS ARE POOR
Omawumi birthed venom yesterday
She won't marry me again because
I am a poet, she said poets are poor
Is my pen not worthy to buy her make up?
If poetry gives no money I will still be one.
When the arrow of folly is carved
Wisdom back off to the gallaxy of stars
Poetry can't be broken easily like sticks
Poets live beyond the rivers of warlords
Poverty is not in the secret of lexicon of poets.
Mother sent me out of the house
Because I told her I want to be a poet,
She cursed my generation to come
Then wrote a note to my future never
to favour me in my desperate journey.
When the eyes of stupidity is begotten,
When the mouth stand taller than the nose,
When the scent of a madman becomes pleasant,
Check the nose that picks the aroma well
Poets are the million airplanes in the sky.
"Poets are poor" my teacher screamed at me
"Can't you be a doctor or lawyer than a poet?
You will sing without song in your mouth soon,
There won't be bread on your table to eat
And you will measure yam before you eat it"
Let the perceptive of a saint be kept,
Musical artistes are not idols to worship
I can also be praised in my own corner
Please your eyes with your sinful thought
Poets are the lust in the eyes of the saints.
"How many houses do Wole Soyinka have?
How much does Chinua Achebe have?
You will just die and perish without worth,
Nothing but a bitter tears and sorrowful blood"
My sister barked at me this morning!
It is not my tale to tell of a house and money!
Not my business to know those in their covens
All fingers are not the same as all men are not
My tomorrow have been written favourably,
I only water it through the idea of the gods.
"Go get a life, poets are sick with words!
Poets are poor! Poetry is no treasure to keep
Go and join Ekene in his business at Onitsha
That would keep bread on your table not poetry"
Father buttered my ears last breeding night.
What is my business with business
Poetry will keep food on my table soon
Poor poets are not my cup of tea to drink
Everyone have a different mindset and vision
Soon, poetry will be commercialized and we earn
Much more than Dangote and Mike Adenuga.
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016
I spoke, in detail,
Of sadness and pain,
But where there is arid desolation
There will one day come rain
The joys of living are many
And hard to list for me,
Though I shall try,
I trust your patience I will see
My highest high, my greatest thrill,
I suspect only musicians would understand,
I wonder myself, still...
When a group "clicks" into high gear,
And you improvise together as one,
And suddenly four , five, or six,
Become as one, and you do not need any tricks...
I get goosebumps, ecstasy to the max...
No drugs, sex, love, good fortune, or manner to relax...
Can compare with it...and that says alot...
Yes, number one is easy, now it gets real hard...
I suppose you'd think love of a good mate,
Or close family....and that would be hard to top,
but I can think of one thing that does...
The unsolicited, and anonymous help
I have be fortunate enough to provide on occasion,
(I have to watch my spelling or Sue Mason will be on me
like a fly on sugar- a service, I consider, cause she keeps
me on my toes, and I do not resent that- thank you Sue,
hope you're well, and happy holidays!!!!)
Once I saw an old woman, carefully shopping in
a deli, basics, eggs, milk, bread, etc- obviously watching each
penny- I paid her bill in advance,and then some, while she
was busy searching for something. It gave me a high like
I guess heroin does for junkies...I have done this several times,
and the feeling I derive is awesome- and I'm no angel,
trust me. Anyway, back to our poem. All you new members, welcome, and yes, I
am a madman!)
Next, true love with a mate, soulmate, one held in
your arms, who you never want to let go....and close
family.....sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, others...
and this is one male who admits women are far better
at expressing this kind of love, especially for their children.
Religion is up there...although any extremist of any
religion does not know God, no matter what his or
her protestations may claim. (Boy, am I getting my money's worth
out of Sue Mason tonight!!!)
From this point, I think it gets too hazy, too personal,
and we daren't get too persnickety.
But if you are a member of the Soup,
you are obviously two steps ahead of most.
So welcome, and Happy Holidays to all.