Long Nerd Poems
Long Nerd Poems. Below are the most popular long Nerd by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nerd poems by poem length and keyword.
My hearts been chopped, sliced and grated
By everybody who has hated
The way my life has been going
True feelings never showing
Hiding all the pain down deep
A happy smile tryna keep
Up the illusion it don't hurt
How I get treated like dirt
I can't help the way I am
Why can't others understand
I'm not a geek, loser or nerd
But my whole life I have heard
Remarks so derogatory
Take the time to know my story
Why I don't drink or do drugs
Then you'd change your words to hugs
Opening your heart and eyes
Finally you would realize
This little girl who raised herself
Without any kind of help
Is gonna stay drug free and clean
Alcohol will not be seen
In her body, I refuse
To be put through the abuse
Like other people from my past
Respecting myself and this task
‘What is thought’, queried Krishnamurthy
‘Who am I’ was Ramana’s question
We begin with mind body entity
Which seeks joy elation
Momentary is happiness
Transitioning quickly to sorrow
Thought patterns our stuporousness
Enmeshed in regrets of past, fears of tomorrow
Religions and doctrines aplenty, none resonate
If the truth one, why marked divergence
Why does ego, conscience sedate
Give us back, our innocence
The truth seems to us simple
We associate not with the ephemeral
Going in within, choosing vibrant life eternal
We open our heart to behold therein Gods miracle
We are not a hermit perched on a hill in meditation
We embrace fully each life offering manifest
Yet as breath flowing without cessation
We celebrate both trough and crest
The shift then is from head to heart
All analysis paralysis, so we rest thought
Thought rested awareness sees our ego depart
Nonchalant and detached, free of fears desire brought
Yet dear friends, in doing so, we become a rebel, a nerd
For allured not by objects, we choose the joy current
Mind-body-spirit align in vibrations upward
We become thus bliss in heart resident
A journey vibrational without movement
Wherein he who embarked does not disembark
Essence of presence throbs in blissful contentment
Oh hermit! Know love within as the simple divine truth stark
05-January-2021
Conversations, on a daily basis
Your own voice surrounded in oasis
Talk to yourself, a daily happening
Older age the reason offered
Standing still, minding one’s own business
Overheard conversations, questions, answers
Mobile phones shatter the sound waves
Eyes down not paying attention
Constant scrolling, thrill of the moment
Media news thrust upon us
Gather in groups, social distance
Chatter surrounds us, some absurd
Nodding, smiling, becoming a nerd
Hope that subjects do not ignite
Spirits are low, worrying galore
Watching, waiting, character testing
Older ones on the front line
Standing in front of them, carers that shine
Trust is tested, time after time
Walls erected around those in twilight
Faces in windows of those we know
The pain of missing you so hard to share
Hands pressed against glass
Blowing kisses hard and fast
Hands are waving, goodbyes are taken
Tomorrow waits for those not chosen.
Why does it seem
that we’re so good at extremes,
one side then next,
it swings and it all gets wrecked.
Order is great,
but too much and we stagnate,
chaos is bad,
but without it we can’t laugh.
It’s fun to go mad,
it’s fun to go mad,
it’s fun to go mad
…sometimes.
It’s cool to be square,
it’s cool to be square,
it’s cool to be square
…sometimes.
A jock and a nerd,
ignored and then heard,
I’ll rule and I’ll serve
…sometimes.
A bit of all things,
The balance it brings
is liberating
…most times.
It’s always seemed,
or at least it did to me,
blending it all
is what will put off our fall.
It’s a tightrope,
fall off and you’re laid low,
but you must try,
to be one thing is a lie.
It’s fun to go mad,
it’s fun to go mad,
it’s fun to go mad
…sometimes.
It’s cool to be square,
it’s cool to be square,
it’s cool to be square
…sometimes.
A jock and a nerd,
ignored and then heard,
I’ll rule and I’ll serve
…sometimes.
A bit of all things,
the balance it brings
is liberating
…most times.
But the hard part,
achieving this is an art,
how much each way
is something few can say.
The balance to set,
nobody has mastered it yet,
some less, some more,
at the least we won’t be bored!
It’s fun to go mad,
it’s fun to go mad,
it’s fun to go mad
…sometimes.
It’s cool to be square,
it’s cool to be square,
it’s cool to be square
…sometimes.
A jock and a nerd,
ignored and then heard,
I’ll rule and I’ll serve
…sometimes.
A bit of all things,
the balance it brings
is liberating
…most times.
January twelfth two thousand and ten
October seventh two thousand eighteen
and again August fourteenth,
two thousand and twenty one
witnessed near annihilation and destruction
of the Haitian nation,
(especially courtesy first and third aforementioned)
whereby countless/ nameless individuals
e’en the strongest Herculean type men
crushed by humungous slabs of building facades
practically demolishing every creation
since this island settled,
which indigenous tribes initially sought safety
in any geologic den
seeking solace and salvation
from wrath of nature
by paying obeisance via oblation,
perhaps giving credence
to clear water in tandem with rooster and hen
that laid a golden egg, especially
as encroaching savages affected violation
particularly when Europeans
foisted forfeiture of land
with primitive implement like pen
no matter that travesty, trickery, mockery,
et cetera wrought humiliation
pleading invaders to forsake such actions
rent asunder culture beseeched divine force
argh inhumane brutish, nasty and (shortish)
simians (compared to 21st century Homo sapiens)
refused to cease desecration,
yet the peoples of this dominion
rose from the ashes like the phoenix like bird
no matter genetic pool
underwent white washing from scouring influx
from western thumping proselytizers,
which alien beliefs hard to swallow like curd
and basically bribery (with lustrous trinkets)
and those coveted legal tender bucks
foisted/ forced the unpleasant alternative
(wanton slaughter) to be clearly heard,
yet within the very fiber of tropical mangrove
persons patiently lined up their ducks
as intimated by this aging hippy type nerd,
and declared as the first
African American peoples spurred
INDEPENDENCE to be the word.
"The E.R.I.C."
by: Eric L. Boddie
To each of you who feels you have failed to evolve
Because you are constantly running into various barriers
Sit back, relax, and let me tell you the story
Of the eight realistically inspiring characters
The first was a son to God and his mother
As Seen Through The Eyes Of The Word and not any other
Because he Learned That Love Is Stronger than what words can even utter
Because Love Is So Much Of An Action, there is no distance it can not cover
The second was a brother to his siblings and all humanity
Blessed With Many Gifts, but never known for vanity
Because he felt any fear outside of God only led to insanity
So every situation that arose, he handled so candidly
The third was a man, standing both, strong and proud
Humble to all men but Only To God had he bowed
Always soft spoken but forever searching for that loud
Forever content with self-reliance, no dependence on the crowd
The fourth was a friend, extended with helping hand
Forever faithful and true, never using that betraying brand
Knowing that friendships must be grown, they can't be bought in the can
Because instead of desiring to down-grade, he wanted to understand
The fifth was the freak, known to all and one
The inspiration of desire, the innovator of monogamous fun
One Eve at a time, that's how he got it done
Because the motto was for her to only leak at the grasp of his gun
The sixth was a nerd, but cool in all other ways
Serving as a lifetime member in how her hip sways
But something about knowledge always left him amazed
And for that reason, attention is what he always pays
The seventh was a soldier, always Fighting For Christ
Which did he Love more, God or his Life
Because the things that he did show that he paid his price
In Respect For The One Who Made The Greatest Sacrifice
And the eighth was the one who would let neither give up his fight
Telling each he is not wrong until they PROVE they're right
Because To Live Under The Star That Brings Bright Morning Light
Can only bring Hope, and there is no better sight
Each was greatly strong, each was greatly misunderstood
Rarely could either be challenged, but far too often, each was abused
In ways too great for a simply common mind to ponder
Causing the E.R.I.C. more Prayers, A Power that can never be overused
Dua
You know my needs, wants, and desires way better than I could possibly articulate. Yet, I feel like being expressive on this platform, for the sake of the audience.
Please remove the veil between she and I, as I am more than “finally ready” for her; I’m in desperate need. My right side is cold these days. The warrior spirit in me isn’t enough anymore. Spring and summer has come and gone, and my autumn has arrived, with bone scraping breezes.
Please make her excessively clingy, in a way that would have driven the immature version of me completely mad. I need that now. I need her face—a lot. I need her to block my path, arresting me, until she gets her kiss, that energy exchange on two sets of lips. I need her to text me multiple times per day, just to get on my nerves—to make me feel like she has me on her mind.
I need her to understand that my size and strength exist to protect a very vulnerable nerd, conditioned early on by an environment of scorn. That way she’ll understand why this big arm pulls her in tight every time an ambulance rolls by at night.
You know I need contact. Please make her okay with that. It’s even better if she demands it, making me beg for a break. May our weekends at home feature gliding palms, and shiny skin from cocoa and Shea, glowing under flickering candles.
Can she be a lover of books—knowledge—rhetoric—history? I would love lively exchanges on subjects of our history.
I know I am asking a lot, for a man with no bag, overspilling with gold shilling. Allah, I wouldn’t dare try to cross her up, if that’s on her list. Allah if I have value please reveal it to her, and assign us “to be”.
And suddenly I realized I was the small fish in the wide sea
Nobody knew what I achieved
Yeah I was among the ones who shone bright
Rather I was among the group
As their individuality got recognized I got pushed aside
I thought I was top notch
But maybe I was the invisible nerd
The one who worked hard
The one who got good grades
The one who always took part
But I lacked the essence the society needs
The pretty privilege give to those beauties
Oh look she's the beauty with brain
But when my turn came oh look at that nerd who doesn't enjoy her life
I tried my whole life to get recognized
But instead I was just pushed aside
Maybe I was desperate but at least I didn't flirt
Always got attention from the wrong people
As I saw them earn the things I longed to achieve
My heart shattered like scattered bees
Was it my wish to get recognized that kept me from achieving it?
Was it my face that wasn't ugly but not pretty enough?
Or was it my lame personality?
But I also watched those famous movies
I also listened to those popular beats
I was also gifted with a big brain
I also did not study everyday
I also worked hard
I also dreamed
I also earned to be
Just a little recognition was all I need
Because I also know how to feel
I was like the actuator who served a purpose but was always unseen
However even the actuator got seen
The truth was nobody ever asked what I wanted to be
And soon it all collapsed in the search off recognition I lost my talent
Running around like a thirsty frog
Just trying to grab attention
But oh it didn't end like that
Reality did hit me hard
But it hit when I got torn apart
When I lost what I only had
When all my emotions just faded away
When all the birds flew away
And tick tock tick tock
As I looked up stood over me a monster
The monster who turned my into another monster
Oh how neglect made me an attention hungry monster
Ghost Buster’s Eve
‘Tis the time
to shoot slime.
Adults Only Costume Party
Sex kittens prance.
Sultry nurses dance.
Party Food
Served eyeball soup
and goopity goop
A Bobbing Good Time?
Apple I get;
face sopping wet!
House of Creeps
The chainsaw guy
made me cry
A-Maze-ing Fright
Lost girl walks
where corn stalks
Jack O’Lantern Greeters
Bright as torches,
pumpkins on porches.
Night of Royals
Small and fair,
princesses are everywhere.
Trick or TWEET
One poor nerd
plays Big Bird.
Halloweenie
Wearing dumb costume -
a dashound’s doom
The ‘Trick’ to Trick or Treating
Door to door,
speediest kids score.
Vampire Candy
Dracula’s favorite treat
is bloody sweet.
Raiding the Kids’ Trick or Treat Bag
Of chocolate stuff,
can’t get enough
Over and Out
Big Harvest Moon.
Thanksgiving comes soon.
Nov. 3, 2018 for Mark Toney's Six-Word Couplet Series Encore Poetry Contest
There’s no tread or scuffing hinted,
By that tough father-like figure,
Painted red, gown not flung on,
But a thoughtfully configured picture.
Bright red, vibrant with energy,
For each kid, loud, silent or bewildered;
Wanting to give them all enjoyment,
With heart, love and feeling rendered.
All are included, none left out,
Coloured, tall, disabled, skinny;
Loved, lonely, fat, intelligent,
Sporty, introvert, nerd, bubbly.
That red velvet met by white fur,
Exploding with purity rather explicitly;
Entitled to be warm, that morality,
That pillar of nurture and equality.
There’s not one gift or present, but many,
A plurality for each face that lights,
For each smile that justifies the giving,
To let parents quietly adjust their sights.
But kids must be good and kind too,
To merit that spark of interest from Claus,
Because that’s the condition of giving,
The hinge of the egalitarian laws.
A bright symbol of societal progress,
That’s so loved by the generation gap;
Love wrought through dispute, disagreement,
Worked out through a family’s cold tap.
When your child has an intense interest,
And your faith impedes your reason,
Father Christmas begs that you submit,
By thus calling your child a small person.
Not so as to render him an adult,
Or consider her older than yourself,
But to admit that their hobbies,
Only come from society’s shelf.
Santa Claus has a moral point, a focus,
Hints politely to those who lack the personal,
To embrace the child’s joys and pleasures,
At Christmas, when you may be feeling neural.