Long Obligated Poems
Long Obligated Poems. Below are the most popular long Obligated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Obligated poems by poem length and keyword.
world wars your mongering for
the big satanic bloodbath
more appealing to god
then two homosexual men
The devil may cry
my favorite angel facing a feat of unequal measure
since you know soo much about him
live it everyday
you never let him live this down
just work on making yourselves miserable
you look soo happy that way
words you read by the best
your own walking contradiction
so caught up in getting what you want at anycost
you forgot what he wanted
and there is a price to pay
signed yourself up for a fight that isnt yours
the rules you live by
they are enforced
you cant scramble away from this fast enough
the lie you live for power
lesser of two evils presented to you
path of least resistance corners you again
sing yourself to suicide ever soo sweetly
the shortest straw has no alibi
and i think its funny
Jesus has some truth to tell him
slip the witch a missing letter
she doesnt mind bringin him back to life
even the devil you know
splattered all over your pages
the philosophy you seem to live everyday
offered you a short term power
and we just throw you away
came to get my favorite angel
something youve been denying yourself the whole time
trivial pursuit of endless lies manipulating yourselves this way is such a shame
now i'm not obligated to help you
you had a choice
the game of life you signed up for is coming round again
faster than you think
your underground rivalry of seeking after power
i paid the devil to see if you would make this mistake
then you did and i agreed he could do the dirty work in jesus name
the truth will get you in karmic laws you forgot about
threefolds of being humbled
and humbled and humbled again
wont even help you, you cant get away
hardcore satanists dressed up as saints messing up their own destiny
did the world not tell you
life is a test?
you were tested
you failed
the devil was in on it
enjoy your bloodbaths of endless wars in hell
the world kept this under rug swept
and now for you there is no way out
paid the devil for me
and jesus will eventualy set him free from the you he doesnt want
your not fathoming this properly
jesus was tortured so you wouldnt be
the letter gone missing
now whose got a face to blame
hardcore satanists
my favorite angel loves me
he wouldnt allow me to live this nightmare
so hes taking you far far away
Donald trump = pathological psychopath
Fred Trump taught his sole son Donald
how to steal the leading way into more ass,
though no hint given, nor prediction forecast
in his growing up years, that would foretell,
thru base anaphylactic cronyism, egotistical
gall insidious kleptomania call, malodorous
Machiavellian offal obnoxious quintessential
skullduggery, unfair wicked yik yak zeal
to wield selfishness, a mean mogul with brass,
who would unstintingly live up to his surname,
and trump every law in the books of jurisprudence
and crass bend avast set of constitutional laws
to feed his ferocious fealty to the all mighty dollar
flaunting, fleecing, and flipping the welfare
of those (he deemed must serve him
his insatiable hunger) to connive, dictate,
and expedite his hell bent assiduity,
an empire fit for a King, who felt no aversion
to mollycoddle, peddle, and wheedle
any zealous contractual obligation
(immediately abrogated), and concoct fabrications
vis a vis, a visa versa MasterCard his
American Express shun re: the art of the raw
FitBit (if necessary browbeating, depriving,
forfeiting meting out legally obligated pay
whenever an inconvenient truth awoke
in his noggin reneging fiduciary promises
to the risk-taking, moon shining, toiling citizens
ala Indian giving per many an unfair deal
exuding crass with especial treatment
to withhold wages for his (held in check)
Polish laborers, who built his city on rock and rolling
stock – so a Starship emblazoned with
outsize ego of an exploiter with no pay
to his backbreaking Polish construction
motley crue nor even mucho grassy us
for erecting his empire now ranked in
billions of dollars unfairly pointing a finger
to berate, dictate and finagle foreigners
(illegal immigrants, he would now boot
out of this country) to carry out drudgery
with hungry stomachs growling at slave wages,
lamentably plodding since any other employer
might question their vlsa status, hence anger
boils within this generic human enraged
his wealth squeezed from every last drop
of said craftsman, now if still alive old and
broken men crushed by the mighty
self proclaimed dictator of the proletariat,
whose hollow being blind sides those
he stares down, yet beware all that glitters ain't gold!
Why does the Moon think she is obligated to hide her body from the Earth?
Does she not know her revolving mass entrances our eyeballs to her blueish, gray hue?
Doesn't she know that when she shows her entire body we all marvel at her simplistic natural beauty?
How can she expect us to continually pay attention to her when she purposely fools our light, feeble hearts?
She knows us,
She knows how to turn our emotions into her little play trinkets,
Constantly turning our minds into a pathetic mush forcing us to follow her graceful body around,
Does she think it is okay to show only a section of her texture while leaving the rest of her "confined side" in the bleak darkness?
It should not have to take a spotlight for us people too see what is behind the Moon's impenetrable black cloak,
What do you think we are going to do, exclude you from our existence?
Ignore you?
Did you ever think about how we are side by side with each other every night?
Do you think this is going to ruin our already convoluted broken-down relationship?
No matter who you are or who you portray yourself to be,
We are going to have to by you,
You have become such a big part of us that we could not even survive without your presence,
Are we nothing to you?
We realize, yes, you are all the way up there in the sky looking down at us as if you are on the top of this ghostly cast system, rotating around without stress, surrounded by immense amounts of beauty,
and us "below-class people" are down here in the ghettos of our planet mewling and battling each other in pointless wars,
But that does not means you can undermine us just because your feign personality believes she can,
We have to be able to know you,
How can you believe that this is fair?
You have been given the ability to climb the rocky walls of our true personalities and feeling,
But you have cowardly plugged up all your deep craters with ice and darkness,
We just want to see the other true half of your beauty,
We want to dive deep within those dark abuse marks of your's, scoop out the ice, light up a fire and slowly rebuild you into your original perfectly circular self,
Why can't you understand Moon,
We are trying to help you,
Please,
Reveal yourself to us,
Let us refill those beauty marks of your's,
And prove to us you are more than just a gigantic rock.
-Corey Gordon, 14
Pick me, pick me, you beg and plead
You think that you just what he need
Today, you in the game, yea!
Today you get to play and that totally made your day
But you don't love the game, you love the Coach
You're getting a home visit from Coach. Yes, he says he's coming over
Wow, you do dumb ssh for love when he's on his way
You quickly hide clothes in the other room, you throw stuff here and there. You run and tuck and when he's not around, you don't give a pluck. Clothes are here, there, everywhere scattered
When he's not around, nothing about clothes or your room even matter
You think and think and think of him
You think of 100 reasons to call him
You think of two reasons not to call
One, he's not going to answer, two, he's with that witch
Why she gotta be a witch? Cause you want her man?
There you go, when are you gon learn?
Second string on the bench, waiting again for your turn
How long will this go on? Will this ever end?
You've been waiting for a month for Coach to pick you again..Really?
Six weeks have passed, he doesn't even look your way
He doesn't give you or your name a call
She is staying in the game.
Why wait for the starter to get an offside penalty?
She's not trying to get no technical or foul out
She's playing tackle with him while you playing touch
You wait so patiently to get put in. But put you in for what? You on the bench and still getting ran over.
Don't you see, you don't mean what you think you mean to him
And no, you're not no challenge or no threat to her.
But silly ole you, still wanna be part of the team, so you try some new plays to impress Coach. Of course it's his way, cause when it's all said and done only the player that's gonna help him win get to stay in the game
And one thing I know about the game, you can get cut for no reason
There are many others trying out for your spot, but so far there’s only the two of you who are actually on the team roster
Stop playing second string, second string doesn't get acknowledged
Don't get no recognition and you don't get to meet the fam
Girl, you're not no second string material, get off the sidelines
You are not obligated to stay, you are a free agent
You deserve better, dream BIG, become part of a team
Where you won't be the Coach's player, you'll be... The Coach's Wife!
Memory houses soul asylum vestige...
where complex edifice once anchoring
venerated Glen Elm demesne once stood,
now nothing except vinyl city!
I recall breathtaking, expansive, incredible
numerous, tremblingly awe inspiring views
billion miles (slight exaggeration) heavenly
sights comfortably ensconced, while perched
high atop sadly long since demolished complex
edifice anchoring Glen Elm demesne – summer
mansion property captain Leiper (circa early
nineteen hundreds) more'n century ago once
encompassing hundred plus acres whittled to
approximately 2.42811 hectares upon purchase
February twenty eighth ninety sixty eight by
papa Boyce Brandon Harris, insync with help
courtesy paternal grandpa Aaron Harris, the
former who invested blood, sweat and tears,
when not yoked, tethered, obligated... to
incumbent duties consonant with assignments
linkedin, when gainfully employed as top notch
mechanical engineer at General Electric, he
slaved away gentrifying neglected fixer upper
(matter of fact single handedly reshingled roof)
that same exterior hideaway offering solace
against imprecation, ostracization, ultimatum...
damnation, humiliation, laceration, (albeit verbal
lashing against yours truly), when exhibiting no
motivation to work (courtesy thank debilitating,
immobilizing, paralyzing anxiety/panic attacks),
now though still plagued with same understood
as congenital (possibly in utero) malady, yes an
abominable, execrable, implacable..., nemesis
which unpleasant memories haunt me even to
this day, whereby nothing but utter failure cast
dark shadows analogous to edge of night oft
times accompanied with suicidal ideations,
whereat damned, continually bereft, abysmal
bereft legacy testimony marginally functioning
as the token "scapegoat" throughout twelve
torturous years yielding absolute zero aptitude
unable to comprehend, (I strongly suspect die
hug noses along high functioning autistic
spectrum - case in point youngest of two sweet
progeny (both daughters) afflicted with yepper
aforementioned cognitive learning disability,
she benefited social services since birth, and
can attest to much more positive academic,
and socialization endeavors well on her way
living clear and free empowered at twenty
orbitz round the earth.
GREEDY AND JEALOUSY
The haves and the have not, they all stand at equal pulverized
Stretching their hands for arms giving, yes we are all vulnerable and vagabonds
Having money is valueless in the absence of helping hand, skills and ability
Maybe, maybe not–I need you and you want me is the root of jealous and greedy
Needs and wants do not drink from the same cup-if you need me then I need you
Dig deeper and read between the lines you will see the thin blue and red lines
Blue you want my skill-red you don’t want me, your greedy causes you to abuse me
Greedy from the rich-Jealous from the poor, all at the foot of the cross
Avaricious speaks up and boast, all is in palm of my hands
Equality is the blindfold for the naïve; If I have the money then I have the power
You cannot fit into my shoes neither eat from my plate, get what I offer or die
This is animal farm, I the lion still rule-no corruption just connection in my world
The food is mine, let just use your spoon, and you will be also feed from left overs
The power to hire and fire is in my pocket, please my egos maybe you will be safe
Even if humility causes you humiliation, you are obligated to be humble at all times
Faith is for the weak, visit my palace and witness words turn into money
Greedy from the rich-Jealous from the poor, all at the foot of death
Jealousy often originate out of lack, give me enough that I may not steal
Come walk in shoes, being feed from crapes falling from the rich man’s table
I wish I had all they have and wish they had my strength and skill, beauty of inequality
Sorrow in my inner soul, so drifted from the beds of the sea, drowning in my envy
Okay you have the food and I have the spoon, maybe I should turn my spoon into a knife
Mr. rich man, we are all walking in the shadows of reality, jealousy and greedy are just results
Do not take my meekness as weakness; neither should you turn my humility into humiliation
Greedy from the rich-Jealous from the poor, foot of birth and death is equal
We are all equal, Greedy and Jealousy are like twins, just depend who saw the sun first
We all need each other just as the succor field needs players, without each other there is no game. So never let you greedy take you swallow you neither you jealousy mislead you.
Cerulean sky in the quiet jungle was shook up by the unexpected tremor of a white and red bimotor plane. Larry, a tall, olive skin, green eyes, was the handsome pilot of the plane called Lara. Mechanical problems obligated Larry to an emergency landing.
In the crystalline river was a lady called Lara. She was camping for two days in the inhospitable surroundings. A heart break made her to take a time out from her hectic work schedule as general surgeon. Footsteps were heard in the dry leaves. Lara looked behind her, to see the impressing presence of Larry. She thought she was going to faint.
Larry felt a skip in her heart when he saw Lara. She was very identical to his deceased beloved. Without uttering a word, they felt love at first sight. Larry asked to Lara her name. They introduced themselves. Lara was packing to return to her home. Larry told Lara about the plane incident. She offered Larry to take him to his home. By coincidences of life, they live in the same urbanization. Before stepping out of the car, Larry gave to Lara a business card with his phone number. He was the CEO of an important tobacco exporting company. One week later, Lara took her cell phone and called Larry.
He invited her to a dinner to an elegant restaurant of the city. While they were dining, Larry told to Lara that he wants to know more about her. After concluding the dinner, they agreed to continue communicating by phone, letting that time decide their romantic future. Two years passed, when Larry invited Lara to dinner waiting a surprise to Lara. An engagement ring was inside of the rose bouquet. Larry asked Lara if she would marry him. Lara accepted the proposal. Wedding planification started. Fue most expected day for Larry and Lara arrived.
Larry was wearing a black tuxedo. The ivory bridal gown of Lara was stunning. Cala flowers and pink roses were part of the church decoration. Lara walked the aisle when Larry was waiting for her. After the religious ceremony, they were declared husband and wife. They left the church in a white limousine to the reception in a five star hotel. Blissful days were part of their married life until death separate them, ending a romance that began in a jungle.
The End
because the music industry is
dead as a ****ing doornail,
they grip hold as long as possible
to whatever pop singer can pull
in the most idiots to sell whatever
can be marketed by these big useless
companies that used to feed us CD’s
& have a monopoly on the recording
process,
until
we discovered
how to do it on our
****ing
own---
and so we have
“psy,”
the male version of
gaga, after she got fat,
the male version of britney,
before she shaved her head,
the male version of
the next latest craze that seems to
be taking longer to
evaporate than most,
because, well,
nothing
else
is
happening---
so when it was revealed recently
that mr. park jae-sang
had “anti-american lyrics”
professing a hatred for us
“yanks” & shouting for the deaths of
all our kin
because of the war on Iraq
being committed then by our wonderful
big military dick, which goes pounding all
over the world,
it came as a shock to every dimwit,
who after like 3 ****ing months,
is still trying to mimic the man’s Korean,
in hopes of one day becoming
cool---
because of the manufactured dance song,
which has been played by youtubers
non-stop, for what seems like
ever,
the world has cringed, wondering if they
can continue to worship
a pop singer,
who has sung
one
song
that
has
got
their
attention
when
the
rest
of
music
is
dead &
it’s moral fiber is being questioned &
ooh, how it makes everyone tremble---
should they agree with him & hate the
empire that made him huge
by pushing his pop trash all over the
place, or should they denounce him &
embrace the killing machine that was
responsible for the death of
kim sun-il, the South Korean who lost
his head because he was a representative of
a country that is like a little toddler brother
to the US, who was obligated to send
troops in, so that the brilliant war effort could
go on raging?
keep your eyes peeled on your screens &
watch the US music industry mop up all the negative
vibes, so that mr. psy can be painted pretty
again---watch him perform for president hope &
change & watch everybody refuse to develop any
different view of the
good ol’ US of A---
for politics is for the thinkers & certainly not the pop
listeners,
right?
YOU ...
small, furry,
soft, warm, joyful,
sweet little creature,
came to me in a shadow ...
a time when my heart ran cold,
kicked far down the road by sorrow,
and lost as any hobo without a compass.
I had given hopes and dreams their pink slips ...
shown their sorry, deceitful little selves the door,
and told them where to put their accursed optimism.
Then YOU ...
you who had
been so neglected
and abused by others
of my race, others who had
seen kittens as something less
than themselves ... something for
their twisted amusement ... something
meant for the focus of their ire and hatred
and evil intent ... something at the mercy of the
dominion granted them by their so-called "acumen" ...
YOU, Sugar ...
had come with
such a simple name,
a name I had every intent
of changing to something far
more artistic, or worldly, or cute,
or extravagant, and yet as the time
passed those first days with me, as you
worked your gentle, loving, tender, amiable,
precious, good-natured way deep into my heart,
it was more-and-more evident that whoever had given
YOU your moniker,
had somehow, through
their sinister intent, STILL
been unmistakably affected
by your pure and precious spirit,
and had out-done my best intentions
and wholly self-lauded creativity, (as well
as trumped my attempts to attach a name to
you that others would feel obligated to soak with
feigned praise), by giving you a sweet epithet which,
in its absolute simplicity and virtue, was nothing less than
PERFECT.
YOU, my sweet
little Sugar, abide
the very essence of
your name, and you have
not only sweetened my days
beyond measure, but have saved
my life in ways that I'll never be able to
impart you. Who knew that the dark clouds
of my heart would be rent by such a fuzzy little
face of sunshine - that all I needed was a little bit of
YOU.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "My Companion And Close Friend That Never Complains" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 5th Place ~ in the "Just A Little Bit Of Sugar Poetry Contest", Debbie Guzzi, Judge & Sponsor.
the conduct that codifies the laws of human behavior and such
involves phrases that are mandatory or by your parents you will get touched
to be mannerly, to be courteous and to act like you've been raised right
to use those phrases that society deems as being polite
excuse me, pardon me and of couse may I and please
words that we learned as children and as adults should use with ease
but the most important are the words thank you
the obligatory phrase that God our Creator is due
now Jesus was on His way to a town called Galilee
when He encountered 10 men afflicted with leprosy
now Jesus was One who would meet you wherever you are
no matter how high no matter how low be you broken, whole or scarred
He came not to save the saints but to help those who needed Him more
the sinners, the sick, the hurt, the lost and those who needed a cure
so when those lepers saw Him they cried out "Lord have mercy on us this day"
Jesus replied"you are now cleansed so to the priest go on your way"
but only one man came back and said in a loud voice "Lord thank you so much"
Jesus then reflected "were not all 10 men cleansed by My healing touch"
I've got to give Him thanks is what that Samaritan felt in his heart
I've got to give Him thanks for I've been healed by the hands of God
so why did the other 9 men not give Jesus what He was due?
why did they not show Him an ounce of gratitude?
we act like God is obligated to make us happy and whole
but what people fail to understand that in this life what is their role
we've got to give God thanks because He gave us the breath of life
we've got to give God thanks even during times of heartache and strife
and comprehend that God will always deliver if we have only a mustard seed of faith
and never to forget after being delivered we need to say to His face
thank you Lord, thank you God, thank you Jesus the Christ
thank you for everything that you have done in my life
it's not an option, it's not a choice, it's and obligation that is due
for everthing that we are to Jesus we simply say Thank You