Long Obscene Poems
Long Obscene Poems. Below are the most popular long Obscene by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Obscene poems by poem length and keyword.
Don't promise me or say things that you don't really mean
Don't say that you love me and then start to act obscene
Don't promise me a fairytale, and that I will be your Queen
Don't say it's forever then run off with some young teen
Never get my hopes up and then dash them to the ground
I might not get over it if you kick me when I'm down
Never promise and not deliver there is no 2nd round
One day you may look for me and I'm nowhere to be found
Don't play with my feelings I am not your pocketbook
Then try to walk away as if I let you off the hook
Don't promise me you'll repay me so I finance your chores
Then leave me alone without a home because I helped with yours
Maybe your intentions were well meant as you once said
But your word was never heard except inside my head
Promised me the light then left me in the dark
Feeling like the jackalope that did not make it to the Ark
Once your word is spoken, it should not be taken back
Your given word is not lightly heard so best you keep track
One day it may mean the difference between someone’s life or death
But if your word isn't worth a turd their life won't be worth jack
People are pretenders dressing up for their own games
One day they find their in a bind and still push anyway
Maybe they will read this or perhaps their time has past
They play their play and go away - forget what happened last
If your Word is worthless, said only for your own gain
A trail of disappointment, do you even feel ashamed?
It is of your own making and there is no one else to blame
Start right now repair the trail and redeem your family name
If you promise someone - you should try to follow through
Do your best - put it to the test this isn't something new
There was an old saying that I've heard a thousand times
You are only as good as your word, THE WORD YOU STAND BEHIND
Written: February 23, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a grove, a feud grew, no doubt,
Fruit factions were ready to shout.
Banana sought peace,
But his pleas soon would cease,
As the orange kept stirring the route.
With a temper as fiery as flame,
Orange sought to bear Banana shame.
He shouted and yelled,
While Banana rebelled,
Trying to douse the feud's flame.
But Orange was relentless and mean,
His anger turned downright obscene.
He challenged Banana,
With no sign of mana,
Creating a chaotic scene.
Banana, in a last-ditch effort, pled,
"Let's put this feud to rest," he said.
But Orange just jeered,
And sneered as he neared,
Determined to jam Banana with dread.
She made love to me with poetry
Rhyming erotic terms
Descriptively and explicitly
Painting a scene that made me squirm
The rhythm of her words
Moving like the lovers she described
With each passing stanza
I grew hotter deep inside
I was building to a climax
Simply by her words upon my screen
Delicately yet deliciously woven
Erotic but not obscene
My heart palpitated
Sweat built up on my brow
I had never been moved like this before
But her words did it to me somehow
She made love to me with poetry
A ballade I’ll never forget
Who knew that you could be seduced
By someone you never met
Life is plainly, totally, undeniably, unfair!
Looking in the mirror I screamed, “who stole most of my hair?”
I was never Rapunzel, a svelte heroine, locked in a tower,
But who dare turned me into Quasimoto’s twin, short and dower?
How can I go dancing with my silver amour, Sir Harry Walker?
Ghastly obscene ….they would heartily laugh and be gawkers.
But, I cannot lie, I desire to be out and have some wild hijinks.
Dressing in high boots, short skirts and you bet, lots of winks!
I am bored to death, with this “growing old gracefully” stuff!
It is dull and droll and far, far worse than chewing snuff.(yuck)
Alas, oh sorrowful me, I even failed the eye test at the DMV!
And yet, I can spot a handsome hunk,who is six foot three?
I even penned a steamy poem for this Christmas Eve!
I laughed so hard, I nearly slipped to the floor on my knees
There is great beauty and joy in growing old, many say??
I declare~plastic surgery, new hair and throw my walker away!
Dedicated to Deb M.. thank you so much!
You made me laugh today. You lightened my soul!
Many thanks, Pangie xxxxx
12/11/2024
It doesn’t feel like Halloween
And that is thanks to Sandy.
So many suffer still it feels
Obscene to fix on candy.
The city’s lacking power south of
Forty-Second Street;
And people living downtown surely
Do deserve a treat.
I’m sure they’d like their stoves and lights
And heat to start to work.
The trick-or-treating gig this year
Is something most will shirk.
The mayor even canceled
Greenwich Village’s parade.
What good would all those costumes do
When spirits have been frayed?
It’s sad when such a festive day,
So filled with spark and *****,
Gets brushed aside because the storm
Has left us in a funk.
We’ll hopefully bounce back next year
And then reclaim this night,
But celebrating now somehow
Just wouldn’t feel quite right.
With every gust of wind, secret taboo,
secreting a web a cocooned prison
of liquid knowing, flowing,
emulsifying impossibly old and new.
In the beyond of the known, stair-stepped,
desert bone flashed into
your consciousness a confident cajoling.
To stew, on the broth of you.
A teasing shot across your bough
of lost resistance and preservation
your eyes rolling white to the out of blue.
Sailing magnetic across it's salivate maw
and unflinching gaze
You are its pupil satellite Positron of drug,
positioned, strung shift of phase shift
of new vistas of truth and beauty unsealed,
inlayed in the naked language of the Angels, stage.
You are, quickened.
Quickened-Quicksilver, tuning, dimensionality,
Principality.
Hidden depths of self,
trigger emotion and thoughts
of infinity divided by three.
A black hole of obscene curiosity
swallows your mind.
Consciousness crests
in trans-mission inflated verbose
relay of Celeste divine? Freet?
You are a place of shipwrecks and mires,
Vagabound desires.
Who dares to sail beyond the horizon of the known retreat.
You come to an isle
of Precious golds and silvers
in frequency bands of holo-hold.
Land of spellcraft, music, heresy, thrones.
Centrigual placement of palaced
internment, camp of strange instruments,
beautiful adorned accoutrements, and contrived designs.
Rune of keys you can feel, the need.
To play them, a feeling, freed.
You shape the music into an arch entity
that offers you it's drink.
You become a dizzy swirl, unable to think to speak...
Of
Silk robes of every delicate fabrication of sin.
Jewels undone, in mythos biolocationed- transmogrifliquesatisfactions.
Yet the symbology remains constant
in it's sustain of visual topology.
Guiding you through the choppy waters
on ethereal landing
in land of the cloud of uncertainty, in hymnal,
refrain, refrain from it's hypnotic beat.
Hold on tight, Jane, Jason of the
foams and eddys and strangered things.
The exhilerating peril, in para parable.
Epic Tome, seasoning tomb of forner deed, denial plausibility causible.
Be ye not
thirsted for the salts of her drink.
For these are the Seven Seas.
“I’m in a relationship’ thrills them like an obscene theme
more of my resistance fuels more, their confidence
good men by blood with the chromosomes of bad guys
they love the competition, their height of expertise
they are serious or not, I have passed beyond doing the math
I want to reciprocate my joy because he has proven to be just mine
from what I enjoy, the rest propose much less
my feet already deep, some asking for something shallow
we escape to Minnesota, they wait for me in Wisconsin
phone calls during our dates, his eyes look at me and say ‘don’t’
on this lovely bond, numerous compliments want to overshadow
interesting is this phase but life could just be malicious
I’ll throw away everything because this means something.
Written: June 16, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hope had gray hair and looked downcast,
Amid grieving and fears, hope is obscene.
At night, just a rocket and fanal were seen,
Life disappears into shrouds, leading to a blast.
Did the hurling and horrible air have a heart?
A single eye read the unformed wonder or boom.
He was the one who proved the current loom,
The quiddity draws the skies and earth apart.
Lord, my petition and argument are both fair,
What bears devils successful and me a failure?
Revolve their decay if the pair were my jailers,
Chervil-lined banks and curbs quiver with new air.
My sapient wairua creates an Elixir riddle ban,
Hoarding and ignoring nature led to a span.
He's a WORD Casanova
He butters them up
Gives sips from his cup
words syrupy sweet
a tasty love treat
makes the girls swoon
to his sensual croon
The Word Casanova
His words are his charm
they dismantle alarm
“sugar and spice”
and they gush..."OH…SO... NICE!"
Demanding submission
to his domination
He metes out a rule
and watches them drool
The Word Casanova
The thing that's obscene
In his plan, in his scheme
He plays and he preys
as his trap there he lays
he wants every one
each heart must be won
Not content to befriend
Wants much more in the end...
The Word Casanova
So he hurts and he maims
And they writhe as he blames...
Ladies….LADIES!!
It's just a game...a GAME
What a shame!
The Word Casanova
This is a poem I wrote some time ago but deleted when I was considering leaving this place. I'm slowly reposting my deleted poems. I'm fully aware that a woman can play this role as well....a Casanovette! It is not gender specific
Wake up, Chicago, before it's too late
Murders are rising at an alarming rate
Multiple car-jackings every day
We're a criminal's paradise -- hey, hey!
As for classroom education, give me a break
The teachers just told the students, 'Go jump in the lake'
They're 'ready to report' when every last teacher and kid gets the vaccine
If I weren't so polite, I'd call that demand 'freaking obscene'
Population's racing for the exits, more folks every day
Why stay in a city where crime always pays
The downtown's a ghost-town, which means less revenue
Increasing the tax burden on 'lifers' like me and you
Well, now that I've introduced you to my hometown
I'll tell you the problem that's really the big one
All the restaurants, bars and clubs are tightly locked down
~ You'll have to hit the tattoo parlors* to have any fun
___________________________________________________________
*In its infinite wisdom the government has kept tattoo parlors open (!)
throughout the pandemic, as 'essential services' (!), while imposing
draconian restrictions and lockdowns on restaurants, clubs, gyms,
small businesses, and other assorted victims of 'the Chicago Way.'