Long Mores Poems

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


Lagos

ISALE EKO  (LAGOS)

A rooster of discrete tongues
Culture, tradition
Where,
Zillion specters resonate
Quantum croak.
Cock crow,
Erupts whirl, barge at Alaba
Descry of sea of soul cases
Kibbling in, out as Emmet over nectar,
As husky ell of murk drench dawning,
Eviscerate NEPA's  spasmodic spitfire
To stupor, obloquy.
The hindmost geezer nestling,
Drenched in diaphoresis of animation of dog days
Eludes unforgiving hail of bug blitz,
Hallowed howl of ole! ole!
Arched in his decrepit nest
Deploys a taper
Until,
Sunup deflowers night jaded sockets
As,
Resonance of one more Naira
To breast billion mark
Percase, perforce, precipitating
The epogee in mores
Rummages his cranium:
Top dog never capitulates 
Vanquish countermands blossom
In kernel of hovel, wreck, quagmire
From mainlands of Iddo,
Bog of Badagry
To Favela of Ijora, Ilasamaja
Colonize the cocoon
Which,
Burgeoned Whiz Kid, Davido and Nollywood 
Confuting phantasm 
That,
Golden fleece
Is muted in the jaws of no man's land.
A colossus who never unwinds 
No arrears in innuendos
Paris is your headrest
Rio de Janeiro your ottoman!


Premium Member Ways Of The World

Shadow black blood floods flow silently wailing in whirlpools
Volcanoes of endless enmity erupt with vengeance.
It's not humanness. Here, the mores of 'might is right' rules
Against routing quagmires, lotus buds fight for transcendence.

We shake hands like friends while minds float on clouds of fraudulence.
Amidst rocking crowds in digital sounds, we feel alone.
Wearing torn costumes of cleaved conscience, we seek vigilance.
Weeds of weariness spring up, wherefrom seeds of smiles are sown.

Like weak rams, we follow the rushing crowds to hit someone.
Who do we want to hit? Why do we want to? No one knows.
We make weapons and enable our young ones fight for fun.
Roots of truth hidden, falsehood from friendship flawlessly flows.

Why is each one who toils not the owner of their wages?
Why don't we end all dead ends that prevent our pilgrimages?
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Dictionary Entry Society

Dictionary Entry Society

I dislike research with critical passion but succumbed to the web and expected
an intricate intermingled labyrinth to define society by its antonyms but short 
and bitter was the answer to knowledge quest when one word one only in bold
letters HATE as if for an acronym Heartless Aggression Terror Enemy con-texted

On a positive note I had been thinking of love kindness compassion other mores 
ethical virtuous traits like sharing and caring fellowship communal engagement  
allegiance with no strings attached to foster common good polis and partnership
time story place of blissfully blessed cooperation’s mutually beneficial arrangement

Words and meanings change over the course of succession of periods and juncture
thus the modern dictionary may as well define society as a balloon with a puncture

21st September 2016
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Tim Ryerson

FOOTLES FOR THE BIRDS AND THE BEASTS - 

Bad-*** old bear:
    Grizzly
    Grizzly

Dachshund making critical life choices:
     Eenie
     Weenie...

Cougar from Arizona:
    Yuma
    Puma

Cowardly Cock-a-Doodle-Doer:
    Chicken
    Chicken

Slave Driving Beaver:
    Dam it
    Damn it!

Aptly named female feathered friend:
    Robin
    Robin
 
Alaska poacher gets mauled by a:
    Polar's
    Molars

Overweight Terrier:
    Porky
    Yorkie

Scavenger Mores:
    Vulture
    Culture

After sex, bears often share a:
    Yogi
    Stogie

Neutered Tomcat:
    Benign
    Feline

Wolf in Sheep’s clothing:
     Mutton
     Glutton

Proportionally, male Dachshunds have:
     Teenie
     Weenies
(But size isn't everything)
.........................................

RANDOM AND RATHER REDICULOUS FOOTLES -  

Overweight law enforcement official:
    Whopper
    Copper

Overweight Janitor:
    Whopper 
    Mopper

Spaced-out church officer:
   Freekin’ 
   Deacon

Church officer forced to depend on Depends:
   Leakin'
   Deacon

Unhappy restaurant client:
    Diner
    Whiner

Cosa Nostra restaurant special:
    Mobster
    Lobster

Yep, you guessed it. A criminal Crustacean:
    Lobster
    Mobster 

Why did she slap me? All I did was:
    Toot her
    Hooter

Careless Urologist:
    Pecker
    Wrecker
Form: Footle

Premium Member Another Day

Why dream we so of fertile flowered valleys
Streams that lie outside Heart’s watching door

Away from foot and hand embracing
Same yin/yang feelings within wandering mind
Lying into nothing mores.

Is this boredom of life-living just repeating reason
For lack-lustered colors repeating so in dry sun-less days

Thanks be then to push opened eyes out forever-questing
To far afield where better, singing treasures lay.

Quick, let’s find something more, new, fresh to follow…
As early Sun breaks through my lazy gaze

Aha, thought I, a smile well forming
To sing again of life’s sweet purpose raised

Into my own creating sweet forever Mornings... 
A way...a way, away to stay away
To live, to Live, a bettered free-choice day.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Society - Me ****

Society – me ****


Society, the straight jacket of “socially” acceptable mores,
condemning all to a “one size fits all living coffin.
Social “mores”, cultural cudgels of “independent thought”,
ballyhooing the wonders of our differences
until Society’s sycophancy rears its head in obsequious disapproval.
Societal “Class Warfare” – High Society gazing at the “Waterfront”,
the homeless wrestling the wharf rats for scraps.
Secular secessionists worshiping the gods of political pontification
while the poor listen to the rumble of empty bellies
the elected intelligentsia nudge each other at the trough.



9/21/2016

submitted to – What Is Society? -  poetry contest

Premium Member There Never Was a Box

We live a life buried alive, mentally, 
burdened by guilt and circumstances.
We live in our own angular box,  
oxygen depleting, but dare not kick out 
at the sides, imbibing clean, fresh air.
Kick the walls encasing you!
Pull the plug on your programmed
brainwashed heads! Why live life by,
mental restrictions, ancient beliefs,  
cultural and social mores, especially,
the  warped opinions of your 
well-meant meathead friends,
happy to drag along their own balls and chains.
You'd think feeling intense despair, 
would cause a knee-jerk reaction, and
kick those damn barriers down!
The thing is, there is no bloody box
just limited thinking. Break the invisible,
flaps open, escape the room of doom and gloom!
Open your mind to all possibilities
Who knows! The potentials and possibilities
could be so rewarding, realizing, 
what you’ve been taught to believe
is one big fat juicy lie!?

Premium Member Rubicon Crossing

Owning the ability to strikingly be on a rough road. 
Need the pride to cross the hazardous paddled rowed. 
Caesar energetically settled on a terrible decision. 
Cross a no-return line for Rome's dictator to goad.

When they had passed the Rubicon's canyon.
Their battle fizzled into cruel oppression. 
Out of the red downpour, passing raised its peak. 
Where their bodies swam in an ocean of dejection.

The evil has bestowed on humanity a bleak. 
They'll be modified into poisoned minds Greek. 
Wanting abundance, they are killing their power. 
Projecting havoc on Earth and fueling flames of shriek.
 
Boomed and dabbed same as a colossal breaker. 
Evil masters unleashed devastation ashore and water. 
Mores perished, and the Earth was scorched. 
God has gotten some distance from man's disaster.

Drink and trust your trick isn't called. 
You missed the last outing for no end. 
Resting is simple presently; you're patching. 
This will happen once all perspectives are tired?

Friends, we're in it for the long stretch being. 
There is no way toward the rear for returning. 
The briny exit is to move straight forward. 
It'll drive us anyplace we crave to be moving.

As his army crossed the Rubicon River, the point of no return, Julius Caesar said the famous lines "Alea lacta est," which means "the dice is cast." This poem discusses apocalyptic prophecies when crossing the Rubicon.

Written: October 11, 2021

Pick-A-Title, Vol 26 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rubaiyat

Premium Member Sun up; moon down'

Are you searching for holiness? How is it viewed? Or
To be? Is on some scales its worth.' Is it to be found with
The beggars? Or a King? Or Emperor.' Is its essence in the
Wind? Is it the servant of kings? Or perhaps its to favour
Of countenace? Largesse? Are there many? Who on lifes
Treadmill chase its essence.? What do I see.? I see people
Resorting to whips and chains.' Starvation diets are maybe
Prayerless lanes? Who resort to drugs to gain release from
This tomb of death' as age makes each crease the body
Beautiful belongs to some.' Others inhabit a marred one but
Is it a type of hell.? Some trapped in anger, find it hard to
Trust in any human' any advance of love? Some men trust in
Strength and force of arms.' Another denial.' All must buy the
Farm' face mortality.' As some still here have done.' beautiful
The stream of living water can; come to some'  dissolving 
The tempral things around.' Then know how God took Enoch'
Translation was just like so.' Holyness, holy? It is what all crave.'
Eternal validation no matter ' your age '  i see its desire in so
Many alive; reaching out.' Or rejecting the desire and strive' I
Value openness of manner.' It seems a type? A shadow of
That holyness.? In which God delights.' And the murders in
Syria.? And the world around.' Arms manufacturers upon what
Grounds.? Upon what principles are their actions founded.?
The dregs of drainstream media..Churn out that we are surrounded.'
By terrible people, and happenings' and rumor of war.' And we
Can have some holiness.' And integrity find peace needed sore
Just another raising of funds.' Or are we just idol worshipping
Of missiles and guns.' Will others blood gain you holiness? Is that
Why some be-head? Yet I see that such a precept just promotes
More death.' And they recognise Jesus? Well so those demons did too
In a Nation of observance.!! Into swine they then flew..' into the 
Profane! before the teachers of 'The Law' well everything in its order
I leave now thinking of human mores.' Of desire and striving; and the
Honour maybe.? In the killing so often sanctioned.' By  holy decree.'

Limitations of Poetic License

According to the dictates of Suzy Berlinsky, 
a Hello Poetry sibilant chargé d'affaires 
female equivalent, sans Grand Poobah
aye surmise she deems my preference 

favoring lower case, especially taking 
a figurative page from thee poetic play
book of e.e. cummings, (not to be con-
fused with Elijah E. Cummings, thee 

American, and United States Democrat
representing Maryland's majority dark
skinned precinct of Baltimore County 
seventh congressional district), whose 

shadow of fame diminished, but flagrant
flapping flaunting Puritanical principles
tantamount to in traducing taboos up- 
ending ala revolutionary lampooning

his trademark imprimatur guilt frisson
faculty of his to delve into controversial
material blatantly candidly devotedly ex
pressing thoughts, sentiments, and re-

flexes skewed asper an irreverent teas-
zing exuberance flouting orthodox re-
finery by playfully making mince meat
of long cherished, fixed, and insulated

mores as shock treatment technique to 
exhibit parsimonious, opprobrious, and
noxious malice lobbing fondness for 
writing without heeding thy fondness
 
NOT CAPITALIZING the first person 
singular pronoun, i, an upside down
exclamation point, whose dot eye see
clearly despite the fierce maelstrom!

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