Long Malign Poems
Long Malign Poems. Below are the most popular long Malign by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Malign poems by poem length and keyword.
My intellect is what helps me.
I can jump into the purely rational space and deal.
But it's very lonely.
I lived like that for years at a time.
And, we sometimes love an idealized version of someone, the person they projected but aren't.
And maybe they are striving to be that.
Many times they aren't.
But still love still exists, intact.
And only proximity and contact keep it front and center.
Of course there is loving someone and being "in love".
And the being in love, that part is just not controllable.
Like wildfire it consumes you.
And for us dispassionate logical thinkers, it's a rather irrational but heady space to be in.
And for those who can't process emotion in real time.
Well we are more than a step out of pace.
We are left holding the bag when someone emotionally ducks out and runs for cover.
To be emotionally ghosted is about the loneliest place you can be.
Of course they do it because they can't face the emotion either. Even if perhaps they elicited it.
And so its many lonely trails and several lonely tales I have of love gained and lost to time.
Sometimes I know what happened, and sometimes just poof in the wind it was released and gone.
I try not to malign the lover, even if they failed basic human communication. Some can't face the heat. I get it.
But it's why many times I prefer the lonely trail.
Alone is safer, darker but free. Free of all restrictions to be whatever I may be.
For life is just a journey and there are only mere blips of rest along its path.
And chaos will occasionally visit and subject you to its wrath.
Till in the end it takes you.
Till in the end it takes you. Artimus (C) Susan Manley 3/5/24 7:04PM
America is freedom,
a lighthouse upon the sea,
showing there’s another way
then the storms of tyranny.
America is liberty,
written right into the laws,
it’s those who worship power
that people call out as flawed.
America is hard work,
stretching limits of what we do,
incentivized self-interest
builds things that we never new.
America is family,
bonds of love to last all time,
building a place where they can
live without actors malign.
America is knowledge,
the place where people say,”Hell yes!
Who the heck says it can't done?
Until it is we won’t rest!”
America is tempered strength,
we may be nice but we’re not weak,
live and let live, but if you don’t
we will make your future bleak.
America is striving
to be better than before,
slavery, discrimination
were once here but are no more.
America is forgiveness
to the misguided once war ends,
we once despised the Japanese,
now they are beloved friends.
America means we’re equal
in our opportunities,
none can guarantee outcomes,
it’s for us the day to seize.
America is history,
a proud past of lessons true,
that tell the tale of freedom,
what to do and not to do.
America is rule of law,
the secret of real success,
when you protect folk’s property,
they feel free to do their best.
America is moral trade,
nothing compelled, nothing forced,
both sides have to see benefits
or one will head for the door.
America is majesty,
a multitude of grand landscapes,
desert, forest, prairie, peaks,
beauty that makes the jaw gape.
America assimilates,
wants the best of all who come,
recognizes tribalism
is self-destructive and dumb.
America is open faith,
no matter what faith you prefer,
and setting off a worship space
that the state cannot disturb.
America is free speech,
free assemble, votes, and guns,
because when these things go away,
you can’t live as a real human.
America is greatness,
the best mankind has yet achieved,
where you can live your truest life,
and not grovel on your knees.
There’s nothing finer, in a sense,
Than certain words in present tense.
Words which are incredibly,
Etched on your mind indelibly.
Immaculate, petulant, magnificent, sinew,
Incredulous, superfluous, to name just but a few.
Sacrament, procrastinate, intestate - may seem,
Draconian, Dickensian, obsolete, obscene.
Gratuity, embouchure, gnaw with silent 'g',
Juggernaut, cantankerous, words which I must decree,
Are remarkably, stupendously, fantastically sublime,
And should be used magnanimously, each and every time.
Biblical, whimsical, statistician, brie,
Words which are surprisingly, absolutely free.
Insatiable, perpetuate, onomatopoeia,
Existential, exemplary, words you shouldn’t fear.
Exponential, candid, xylophone or muse,
Malign versus benign - never to confuse.
Reptilian, gazillion, fragility, beguile,
Elucidate, excruciate, go the extra mile.
Psychopath, pedestrian, sesquipedalian,
(That last word I must admit is somewhat alien),
But never doubt, you have some clout, with words that randomly,
Demonstrate, accentuate a sense of liberty.
...It seems that all their ‘solutions’
are made to diminish mankind,
to make life harder in a world
that at it’s best seems sometimes malign.
They want us to starve in darkness,
they want us to freeze in a cave,
openly speak of reducing
the population in some way.
A blatant anti-human strain,
some of them go so far to think
the world would be a better place
if human beings went extinct!
To think that all humans can do
can be so simply thrown away,
for animals that kill and hunt
with no difference from day to day.
What darkness lies without a soul
to think of their own kind like this?
what emptiness they seek to fill
with this pseudo-religious sh-t?
Or is it that those people claim
to be some sort of an elite?
They want to keep the ‘peasants’ down,
relative status they all seek,
since it’s never the rich hippies
who live by the rules that they set,
they tell us to suffer while they
fly to conferences on private jets!
Not the actions of believers,
in truth it’s the action of those
who don’t want you to climb up to
the positions to which they rose.
So they take cars, take you house,
badger you to give up your meat,
tell you it’s bad to have children,
claim that it’s a moral belief,
to force you all to live a life
that’s poorer, more hungry, and short,
to feel greater they’ll say, “For Earth
it may be better to abort!”
All this nonsense is no required
to make smart conservation work,
they are no greens, they’re misanthropes,
and they just want to make you hurt.
Round and round the rumors go
As rumors often do
And each one adds a juicy bit
Of gossip about you
Reputations crumble down
And evil ones rejoice,
but I am lead to stop and think:
Is there a better choice?
When innuendos fly around
Do you take time to say?
“No need to add to pettiness
Let’s drive these words away?”
For I have learned this simple truth
The ones who must malign
Are sometimes those who suffer most
They’re sullied in the grime
In flinging dirt, you will get hurt
You will get dirty, too
So stop the rumors that go round
Let kindness shine on trough.
Eileen Manassian
Shame on those who malign the green bean casserole!
It gustatory delightfulness I shall e'er extol!
With 'fork in cheek' I'll take nonbelievers to task,
And their foibles and biases will strive to unmask!
Folks who disdain this dish ain't tellin' the truth.
Their culinary tastes are so pitifully uncouth!
I'd like to meet the feller who began this unsavory fable,
To ask why he destined it for such an untimely label!
At the church potluck dinner on fellership night,
There's always a green bean casserole to my delight!
A holiday repast with bountiful board just ain't complete,
Unless there's the inevitable green bean casserole to eat!
'Tis such a scrumptious dish, yet so easy to prepare.
Even I could whip up a batch, I really do declare!
Mix some beans, some onion thingys and mushroom soup,
And there you have it folks, all in one fell swoop!
Ere I flee this realm I aim to found as one of my goals,
"The Society For The Propagation Of Green Bean Casseroles!"
Upon my stone you may etch when I end this life's pursuit:
"Many were the green bean casseroles consumed by this galoot!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
IV.
And when they speak of America
it’s a sputtering wall of hate,
the great country that shelters them
they can never appreciate.
They point to all its past mistakes,
taken out of context of time,
ignore others who did much, much worse,
try to make us ‘uniquely’ malign.
Forgetting that we fought those ills,
and ran them all done, one by one,
That we’ve brought people more liberty
that ever before has been done.
They can’t look to our history
without finding reasons to hurt,
but then cuddle up to China,
who’s orders of magnitude worse.
They look at free people’s errors
as an unforgivable sin,
then excuse radical Islam,
and the horrors they do to women.
They hate the freedom and free trade,
and say that it hurts all the poor,
yet it’s lifted standards of life
for tens of millions and more.
The ideas that we have built here,
all the freedom and the success,
seem to annoy professors more
then genocidal socialists!
Perhaps they think, being so ‘smart,’
that they should be running the show,
that the rest of us aren’t fit to lead,
they’re ‘above’ us, and ‘in the know.’
Self-proclaim aristocracy
in a nation with no time for that,
so the ideas that we value
they decry as selfish and bad.
All our liberties mean less to them
then their egos and points of view,
they’d kill the goose and the golden egg,
your professors are lying to you.
In endless quest we sought seclusions peace
hiding in the mystery of a strength always thought weak
and so denied the hero the still of death’s parade
waved surrender’s handkerchiefs to fill his empty grave
relied upon the charity of victory’s feeble thrill
struggling to rise above fresh bloodied horror’s sound.
Relentlessly the ears decry the loneliness of empty sound
as furtive eyes no future seek in fear of war, in fear of peace,
the agony of their disgrace, the joy of living without thrill
they know they’re strong, they know they’re weak
for somehow evading battles grave
to march in fiction’s harsh parade.
Solemnly on hush of wind, wars ghosts, in shadow on parade
march to history’s retold lies, leave no footprints, make no sound
for they will not resign their fate to earthen shell of shallow grave
nor will they let it slip behind the fragile wall of unearned peace
returning to a world in which we are perceived as weak
malign them with contrived disdain, condemn their sacrifice as thrill.
Podiums will hail the cause, cheering crowds create a thrill,
rolling drums will precede taps, politicians will parade,
orators with fiery words that make us neither strong nor weak
echoing across dead ears jaundiced by the painful sound
of promises that never are the troubadours of peace
and fall, as soldiers fall, alone upon a grave.
Newsmen mumble, double talk, of situations grave
amusement parks entice us with a death defying thrill
fire crackers, waving flags, noise to celebrate a peace
heads will bow when passing by war’s endless parade
the young will even shed a tear at taps lamenting sound
grit their teeth and know that honor’s tears don’t make us weak.
For freedom is the resting place for the bravest of the weak
who stand in freedom’s honor when the threat is grave
and rally to defend her, to keep her promise sound
not seeking to be heroes, nor the deception of war’s thrill
just honoring the memory of those still on parade
knowing there’s no solace in seclusions peace.
At heart we know that all are weak, that war is not a thrill
that those who fill the graves are shadow soldiers on parade
that the melancholy trumpet sound is the exhaled breath of peace.
John G. Lawless
©6/19/2014
Upon the loam where ancient shadows creep,
a severed vein now yields its vital breath,
and writhes upon the floor in torments deep,
consumed within the iron jaws of death.
No gentle breeze attends its rapid fall,
nor sunlit grace to soothe the tearing pain;
It strikes the rotting moss and scarlet wall,
drenched in the fury of a weeping drain.
Yet watch the fiber twitch, the pulsing spine,
as blind-eyed beetles strip the tender skin,
and carve away the green with teeth malign,
to feast upon the fever locked within.
The forest laughs while slowly torn apart,
and grinds the winter's refuse in its heart.
...First off it seemed that her husband
had no been an abusive man,
just a nebbish actually,
it was clear she had worn the pants.
She’d married him for security,
and his needs she’d most ignored,
she hadn’t strayed to seek out love,
she’d cheated because she was bored!
Deep down she’d craved the bad-boy type,
the kind she has slept with in school,
and that cowboy had scratched the itch,
but things would get even more cruel…
See her cowboy, he was married,
with a wife and two children fine,
but the author wasn’t bothered,
in fact she knew this the whole time!
She was fine with wrecking a home,
so long as she could see to her wants,
the only thing she didn’t know
was that he took other girls on jaunts.
And worse still there was that business
of him giving her a ‘parting gift,’
it turns out that he gave her three,
Her poor husband never knew it!
It only ever was found out
when the daughter who was oldest
wanted to research her family,
took an ancestry DNA test.
The results that she found shock her,
shocked the family to the core,
none of the kids were the husband’s,
he now was a father no more.
And even thought the kids all said
that the husband was still their dad,
he couldn’t make sense of it all,
and things got very, very bad.
She’d taken his whole life from him,
his understanding of all things,
all those decades of sacrifice,
and what, in the end, did it bring?
The thought that it was null and void
was just too much for this poor man,
he went out and bought a pistol,
ending his life by his own hands.
His no-longer children found him,
it was a trauma none should bear,
they no longer speak to their mother,
need therapists to fight despair.
All this was brought out to the news,
but it mattered little to them,
didn’t fit with their narratives,
society cares not for men.
And did the author feel awful?
Did any of this cause regret?
No, she wrote her romantic book,
made her millions off of the dead.
The best authors are narcissists,
not one of them think they’re malign,
Hollywood wants to make a film,
I think she’ll fit in with them fine.
But I can’t just ignore all this,
and when I see love tales with cheating,
I remember that husband’s death,
then I feel my anger rising…