Long Male Poems
Long Male Poems. Below are the most popular long Male by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Male poems by poem length and keyword.
This poem is inspired by true events ... of
this fallen angel ... For she is the true
definition of "Fallen and Evil!" And I
personally had the honor of meeting
her ... up close and personal ...
and so have many of you!
So, here's to you ...
THE MANY LIES OF
"BROCELIANDE"
(PRONOUNCED AS
ROCELIN )
Written By: Tiffany Saxon
Misery, deceit, misplaced hate
which has lasted through the
hands of time within our
history.
For she is the queen bee of ...
manipulation,
hiding behind closed doors,
sinking her teeth into the prey
of many generations ...
yet,
There is no record of her
destruction ...
Only her venom that breeds
within our minds, veins and
closed eyes of the past, present
and future candidates of
corruption.
All stolen without knowledge ...
Good turned into evil ... Her
Signature of what is known as
the Spiritual abduction.
For
She Led many astray with evil
intent.
So,
Who is she?
The woman who whispers
sweet nothings in his or her
ear ...
While draining one's trust, love,
and energy ...
Sucking all common sense out
of one's soul ...
While posing as the
enemy.
But don't get it twisted ...
Because there are two forces of
evil ...
(Broceliande and Satan)/
( Female and male )
Now ...
That this is out in the open ...
Just know
That everyone has been taught
and enlisted.
Thus,
I come to you to warn you, that
she is the many faces of wars,
Arguments, incarcerations, loss
of life and more ... All mixed and
Calculated in the
Whirlwind of rotating doors.
So,
Open your eyes and see the
signs in others you may know.
Do you see any similarities in
your friends, families, and or
Foe?
Because if you do ... just
remember that
some are lost souls that have
accepted the thirst of evil and
have fallen in
to the approval of "THE MANY
LIES OF "BROCELIANDE"
(PRONOUNCED AS ROCELIN)
THE END!
A minor typo found this fanatic spell binding hound to resend a poem posse sub bully dashed off in a huff (past the hour) if nothing else than fur his spurt full of peace, bot tee, and mind.
Thus this Norwegian bachelor wannabe (most closely aligned with said status closely attained unmarried state by pledging my Unitarian troth) tilled, sown, and furrowed spirit nsync with the missus sleeping in close proximity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
dog tired this day - march 29th, 2018
no matter this dawg gone pup
took numerous one after another cat nap
his utterly fatigued
body electric still ragged
as if he went without sleep for a lifetime,
ensnared within a time warp,
espied that aggravating "aw SNAP"
(error code instead of a webpage
indicating Chrome happens to be
experiencing problems loading)
or, simultaneously
caught in a narcoleptic parent trap
thus, while a burst of energy
temporarily doth prevail
(a priori which extreme fatigue
of body, mind and spirit -
more troublesome, and worse than -
getting crucified
with a rusty nine inch nail
alleviated with deep sleep finds
much more tiredness
than usual quotidian sleepiness
bruiting this male)
being imprisoned (for high
gram matt tick crimes
and misdemeanors) such as: comma, splices,
dangling a modifier, splitting an infinitive,
unnecessary parenthesis (), et cetera
which landed me punctually,
proverbially, and squarely
in the slaammed shut jail
fed thin gruel with grubs that didst flail
nauseating pluperfect revulsion
each time hide exhale
which, many hours long rests did restore
for a bit of time only for totally tubular
exhaustion to come roar
ring back leaving me tour
charred as if...i fought in every major war.
Do you know the concern?
"S/he knows just enough
about a through z
to be dangerous."
I am uncomfortably familiar
with this analysis,
a weapon often wielded
from ivory towers
overly influenced by ideology
masquerading as theory
rooted in statistically measured experience,
severed from historical-cultural,
biological-neurological indigenous context.
Even so,
one feeling I am sure of
my own too robust expertise
is Intolerance.
And, now I am discovering
I have chosen to join a community
with a multicultural intention
to embrace,
or at least tolerate,
all souls,
all species,
all living systems
except those deemed too intolerant,
too wounded,
for multicultural health
as a resonant indicator
of economic and political wealth.
We are exclusively intolerant
of intolerance
because we would provide safe sanctuary
to all souls,
especially victims of monoculturing intolerance,
of win/lose economic and political supremacy,
strategy
gamesmanship.
I find a tension here
between unconditional love
and lacking sufficient curiosity
and courage
to discuss shared values
and disvalues
with those too defensive
too hurt
too lost
too conservative
to tolerate intolerably ***** me,
to tolerate the alien Other.
This reactionary intolerance
of intolerant prejudice
bigotry
often straight white male supremacy,
feels like further breeding ground
for misunderstanding,
segregation,
mutual divestment business as usual,
more win/lose devolutionary anger and fear,
more potential violence,
hate,
war
More egocentric privilege
rather than universal ecosystemic love power
Actively hoping to cooperatively uncover win/win
polycultural resolutions
resiliently curious
and courageous
when in the presence of win/lose competitions
intolerant of active hope
for restoring peace
by retiring retributively inflicted punishment
shunning
non-communication
anti-communion
for past sins of intolerance.
i run in a field full of dandelions
i almost zoom into a tree
all to see a great pair of legs
i search the sun teased woods
i inspect the cool spring waters of the lake
all to see some wonderfully perky hips
i smile at the neverending song of the cardinals
i am astounded by the backup vocals of the bullfrogs
all to see a beautifully God Designed posterior
however, when you turn around,
and i am Blessed with your warm friendly smile,
i put the Clothing of Respect back on real quick
for far more important than presenting the typical male in me
is the relief and the pleasure of the Central Sincerity of Your Friendship
I do not see the poem yet I tried to post last night.
Is it too soon? The why's not clear, I feel emerging fright,
and I'm here blushing in the wings! Will curtain find its part,
an audience know love verse sings, mood synthesized by heart?
Is there some test I need to pass, a path I must repent,
a God to pray to? I'm so crass! I've virtue left not spent
to bridge the gaps in life's extremes? I'll bet I've gone too far;
what creds I had now flushed with dreams! My brain is so bizarre!
November 2020
PS: I believe that a 'blighter' can be either male or female. I've
certainly seen men who look buxom, and both 'Species' can be
cute, funny, shapely, political, and poetic, so my title feels like it
is more or less androgynous.
But if recent politics has taught me anything, it is that the inverse of
the old saw is probably more accurate than the original ever was,
i.e., "Time heals all wounds!"
The yin and yang
Of heavy heart
Orange female tiger
Male azure dragon with spark
Jubilant jaded laugh
Inside jaundice jokes
One can follow one’s path
Face what lies ahead with hope
It cannot be helped
You must weather storm
Life isn’t always fair
Always be in true form
Let go and let God
Grannie sings with faith
Be sure to guard heart
Save for rainy day
Do you learn white wisdom
From elegant emerald elders
Are you led by mission
Experience of life a welder’s
Fire to flaming silver steel
Molding you into amethyst art
However you may fuchsia feel
For growth we need light and dark
I just heard the strings of a piece crafted by Mozart long ago,
played by orchestra in Berlin,
easily lost myself within,
in never fails to make me grin,
such a sublime grace all should know.
But then some talking heads came out, called Mozart just a ‘dead white male,’
declared his music so racist,
only liked by supremacists,
that we’ve a duty to ‘resist,’
that Europe is nothing but failed.
They focus on mistakes long past, say that is all you ever were,
think you should just lay down and die,
be ashamed of the tint of your hide,
let pretty much anything fly,
even things that truly disturb.
As if only Europe conquered, ever made that old mistake,
forgetting that that Japanese,
and also the Muslim states seized,
Inca and Aztec took freely,
it’s an error all peoples make.
As if only Europe did judge people by how they appeared,
it’s an all common state,
done by the mid-east to this day,
ask China their thoughts about race,
it will always be with us, I fear.
But they forget to see the good when the pros and cons they weigh,
never mention a Coleridge rhyme,
or a grand, French diner divine,
cathedrals that echo through time,
I think those things should have their say...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
Isaiah 64:6 NIV
God by your grace, we have been given all.
That , one shall need, but yet we stumble and fall
To worried about the outside of the cups appearance
While the inside is corrupted by incoherence
For our own works to be tossed like filthy rags
Oh, how many seek glory of man as they brag
Unknowingly, the leaf has lost its source
Of life to be blown away by wind of force.
Shall ,one seek to rid these clothes of stain
To receive a new robe from the death of a grain
Then will the inside begin to glow
With a newfound love and joy to show
No longer in division of ones skin
But birthed into a new family of kin
To become in unity in the I AM
That provided a path by His pure Lamb
That we might become One flock
And be known as one of His stock
So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.
Galatians 3:26?-?29 NIV
As dusk gives way, a great delight
The forest comes alive
At first, it's slow
Now off they go
They flourish, nay, they thrive!
The motivating force, the drive
Behind the wondrous glow
To find a mate
A longing sate
But little do they know
She, flightless, hungry, blinks below
Does not have long to wait
Her throbbing light
His lucky night
His first and final date
Not all seems right, but it's too late
A blinding flash; she bites
He won't survive
That's number five
The hunt is good tonight
----------
For the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Written on 10/1/22
the Roundabout: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/new-poetic-form-the-roundabout
Carnivorous females of the genus Photuris are known to entomologists as “femmes fatales.” These fireflies mimic the flashes of females of other firefly genera; the unsuspecting courting male flies in (expecting romance) and is promptly eaten.
In the holy spot
with the sitting rock,
an oak. Out back
shagbark hickory
and maple.
Ants climb the rock.
August, birds
celebrate flowering
weeds, the seeds
of autumn to come.
I am here to name it
and know it and help it
to grow. These mountains
are my grave. A good grave
to go to.
The crows have been
in conference, again.
A jay, blue, pokes
a hole through reality.
I find sumacs fruiting
and the male sex organs
of the Queen Anne’s lace.
Juncos glean the lawn,
an occasional nuthatch
in the butternut.
I hear a pileated
woodpecker jackhammering
and my neighbor’s skill saw
chirring. Ants crawl
on connecting interlacing instructions.