Long Offend Poems
Long Offend Poems. Below are the most popular long Offend by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Offend poems by poem length and keyword.
Helplessly calling
Helplessly falling
Falling into place
Running this race
Fall leaves on the ground
They make no single sound
I'm bound to see the other side
You're my one and only beautiful bride
Bite the bullet
Bite the bullet
See right through it
See right through the pain
I'm still waiting for His rain
Ease your mind
Seek peace and you'll find
Relief from on high
That's something I can't deny
Hold on to me...
Hold on to me...
Where shall I flee?
Don't worry - we'll get through this!
Don't doubt anymore - be full of gladness
Happiness is one teardrop away
I'm but a broken toy in broad daylight
Red, red roses bloom
In the frost of my gloom
I'm falling into pieces
Never once falling into place
I see the glorious sky
The time passes me by
I'm reaching out into empty space
I'm making a legendary trace
I'm bound to see the other side
My love, I close my eyes on this rowdy ride
Don't subside from my side
Embrace my solitude stride
Bravery boils in my blood
I sit back and solemnly nod
I'm so bound to make a legendary trace
With a thousand gallons of your grace...
I want to find a cure to your pain
The pain that has been driving you insane
Be careful not to offend anyone by any chance
There's mere encouragement in your life to enhance
I've got to get up and make a legendary trace
Even if it means showing you in your face
I've been receiving gratification towards you
Take a step back and realize what I've gone through
You're not a failure
You're a winner deep inside
You're not a bad person
Just swallow your pride!
I want to find a trace of a cure to your lost soul
I need to be more considerate as a whole
I believe in you, so be brave and live life to the fullest
You haven't a clue how muc you're looking your best
While I project feelings of grief
Give me your radiant relief
Listen to the voice,
Echoing whispers of lovely desire
Listen to your mind,
Burning bright like a marvelous wildfire
I want to endure the tribulation of life's strife
I will bring forth a cure to this dilemma and its aftermath
Leave the past behind us and we'll survive this hard life
You and I will find God's legendary trace by entering His path
I've spoke my mind to you
I've longed for your legendary trace
Forgive my downfalls like you do
I've often prayed for your nirvana grace
I am whatever you say I am...
but, let's get back to reality...
Three short years ago, this room shined welcome mats across a screen of doldrums.
A place of unfamiliarity that screamed,
"You don't belong!"
Yet, a voice of reason spoke and said,
"Expand yir' roots. Venture beyond the comfort zone. Academia resides inside that room, but know you won't be alone."
Repeatedly,brainwaves declined what my wife and editor had told me.
I'd say,
"no way, I'm givin' up my soul for free, they read, they pay, like it's always been, the way it's going to always be!"
Unbeknownst to me one day, and with a slight of hand, my "Open Sores" were put on display and surprisingly more than a handful of great ladies and nice guys began to give feedback on what I had devised.
This interaction was something very new, helpful, and impressive. For a change, it was something real.
For years, those around me were quick to give praise with hidden reasons. Constructive criticism is amazing, and I welcomed being corrected or set straight.
Now there are those who choose to shut me down without explanation, and call me names.
DO NOT mistake me for sophomoric! These words bleeding from my guts have no style and need no approval. There is no thinking involved here, no plan. If you don't like it, fine...don't censor or bracket me in. So what if I am illiterate? If you don't like "street poetry" or the pathetic stuff I write, don't read it. If I offend you, tell me.
We should welcome those who are different than us.
Words of truth inspire movement, like fire.
I came to this room to expand my horizons, step outside the box, learn, help, grow.
There will be no apologies dealt for being different, or for being labelled as something uncomfortable to you.
This has been an ok room so far, but there is some clique trickanery going on.
If the dictionary must come into play, let me recommend looking up the term "Poetic License."
True, I may not be the writer you prefer, or aspire to be....but tread carefully my friend, for you have no idea of my profession. I've made a fine living, for a good long time, spewing words onto paper. I came from nothing, and may still be nothing to you...still, I do what I love, have no boss.
I am not an aspiring writer who dreams of a life, I live my dream. In conclusion, I must wish you luck in finding what you peddle poetry for. Until then, keep
Page 7
We’ll build a wooden structure
With planks torn from our ships
And place it by their gates
Then we wait for the eclipse
Now I know you all have questions
About how I know these things
But I’ve studied all religions
Foreign Nations, Queens and Kings
Some kingdoms honor Bears
Some worship cats and eagles
Some lions, tigers, bears, “Oh My”
Foxes, wolfs and beagles
Now, these Trojans have one fondness
It stands upon four feet
It feeds upon the grassy plains
And they ride it down their streets
We will build it long and sleek
With a tail tacked to its end
And ears, upon its oblong head
But, with one thing more to send
There, concealed inside its belly
Are those who lie in wait
For the beast to be drawn inside
The Trojan’s massive gates
Page 8
So until the sun starts rising
You men must now embark
And assemble the device
While working in the dark
The others on the beach
A distraction will devise
To keep your labor secret
From those Trojan’s prying eyes
Now off with you, behind that mound
I have a party to attend
It’s not often I can have some fun
At the same time to offend
( Troy 1184 BC, The Beach Party )
The Flames of passion darted up
Into the evening air
It made the glittering of sand
Seamed like stars were everywhere
The drums had reached a beat
That made the young men, have to dance
And I’m sure it made The Trojans
Lose control and wet their pants
Page 9
While young men danced on burning sands
Displaying sex appeal
The Greeks would pause and strike a pose
And flex their buns of steel
The Trojans on the wall
Filled with heighten passion soon
Turned their backs and dropped the drawers
Displaying many moons
It seemed as if, we played all night
Now its time to take our chances
Bring forth the horse, and by due course
We all took second glances
The carpenters that worked all night
Had never seen the beast
It was a horrible interpretation
That is to say the least
I should have choose an artist
Much more suited for the task
For instead of building a mighty horse
There stood a giant ass.
No time to make corrections for
The dawn was growing near
We must move without detection
And crawl in through its rear
To be continued...................
Pre-chorus #2: You turned out to be so mean…you were so heartless… (you
make me feel like nothin’…make me feel like someone…somethin’ – your words
pierced me like a pin on the floor)
I’m not haunted by your callous night…don’t pick a fight (with me…we were
innocent like a newborn infant)
Our friendship oath is pure and full of reverence –
Then, all of the sudden, you make my heart thump with bewilderment
Our love was genuine before you discarded it with revilement…we need to seek
repentance
You owe me – pay off your debts now…how I loathe your resentment!
Chorus: Ahhhh….Stop being a tease…
Ahhhh….Being a tease…(my heart broke into two)
Ahhhh….Here’s a wound to mend
Ahhhh….Please, put my mind at ease
Ahhhh….You don’t see me, nearing my end…
Ahhhh….Nearing my end…(you’re left without a clue)
Pre-chorus: I thought your grass was green…I’m hopeless… (Oh funny, I
thought you were a good person…I was there for you through thick and thin –
you do not love me anymore)
I’m through with you...you…tonight…I long for God’s light (to shed on me…we
were in content & we were pleasant)
You turned out to be so mean…you were so heartless… (you make me feel like
nothin’…make me feel like someone…somethin’ – your words pierced me like a
pin on the floor)
I’m not haunted by your callous night…don’t pick a fight (with me…we were
innocent like a newborn infant)
Chorus: Ahhhh….Stop being a tease…
Ahhhh….Being a tease…(my heart broke into two)
Ahhhh….Here’s a wound to mend
Ahhhh….Please, put my mind at ease
Ahhhh….You don’t see me, nearing my end…
Ahhhh….Nearing my end…(you’re left without a clue)
Give me an excuse or a reason
To overcome these waves of emotions
Friends come and go like season to season
Dealing with vile clashing commotions
We landed on a dead end –
falling victim to regret!
I don’t mean to offend…
Bu we must pay up emotional debt
Our friendship oath is pure and full of reverence…we must accept that we all
need help, going through this circumstance – (we met in a odd place out of the
blue)
Then, all of the sudden, you make my heart thump with bewilderment
Our love was genuine before you casted it away with cold-blooded malice and
discontent…we need to seek repentance (I got to really talk some sense into
you)
You owe me – pay off your debts now…how I loathe your resentment!
grabbing at straws the luck of the draw
some live big some live raw
a few like gods on hills of gold
every things fine just do what were told
A man on the corner needs something to eat
money walks by thinks dirty deadbeat
separated so the poor don't offend
at least when your down no need to pretend
late at night at the castle on the hill
a drunken success pops another pill
doesn't talk to his kids doesn't have real friends
his wife loves spending and the hottest new trends
a mother and her children prepare for the meal
what little there is seems so surreal
Everyday she struggles to provide
all she has is love and great strength inside
the driver takes him to the company he owns
he makes money by working others to there bones
always watching for a worker whose down
to remind them hes got the best jobs in town
eight sharp she takes the bus into work
she works for sol ittle just to please some rich jerk
the boss points out maybe its time for some new clothes
hes pays so little cares nothing for what she owes
the girls need braces but theres no way to pay
she smiles real big and says well get em someday
but shes knows she probably wont ever afford
she can barely make rent on her own accord
when he enters his mansion he feels quite alone
a beautiful house but know sign of a home
he decides it be better if workers lost there medical coverage
the company will save and even the overage
two people so very different one thinks hes what most people want to aspire to
the other wonders how long she can hold two sick days she'd be out on the street
the first one is selfish drinks every night avoids his family and lies a lot to
the second is down but will never give up and her children love her she is so sweet
these two people we see everyday I'm willing to bet you may look away
she just doesn't know how to save irresponsible i hear people say
when you see the man in his top notch suit and perfect smile
i hear people say what an outstanding man i like to talk for a while
When i see the man in his thespian role i feel a ting of pity in the heart in the soul
all the money doesn't help him see the person he his the one he could be
when i see the women struggle all day i wonder why we aren't all this way
her strength and courage virtues indeed a path of love is always richer then one of greed
Form:
Autumn though of herself as a kind soul,
and she took great pride in her compassion,
she believed things could be made perfect,
and her voting reflected this fashion.
She was to see that the wealth was shared,
and that people were nice in their words,
since so few out there ever recognized
how what they said could offend and disturb.
If folks would only learn some basic tact
then everything would run more smoothly,
and she was so glad to help elect leaders
who would take a strong stand against ‘hate speech.’
One day she saw on social media
a report about a conspiracy man
who liked to breath fire when he spoke his mind,
so the tech giants all had him banned.
But she didn’t think that much about it,
she’d never liked that fellow anyway,
so she shrugged it off as unimportant,
and mindlessly went about her day.
A month later she saw some new footage
of men’s right activists under attack,
for trying to change the family courts
they were set upon by hoodlums in black.
But Autumn did not care much for their cause,
opposing women was beyond the pale,
why listen to fools who had never been told
that the future ‘belonged to females?’
A year after that a church made the news
when it refused to marry two men,
the pastor tried to explain his reasons,
but ‘Anti-fascists’ just threw rocks at him.
Autumn just shook her head at the scene,
had not the pastor heard of the new laws?
Who was he to claim that he knew the truth?
To exclude folks on the word of his ‘God?’
Three months later, in campaign season,
a brash man roused the crowds with his rants,
said all sorts of things she found horrible,
it was really getting out of hand.
And when the networks block out all his ads,
and refused to cover his rallies,
Autumn felt that peace had been restored,
there were ‘standards’ to democracy.
Then a year later a new judge declared
that ‘hateful words’ were not protected,
Autumn was glad, progress would be made!
She eagerly waited for what lay ahead…
Over the next two years many people
ran afoul of this new ‘moral code,’
it started with fines, then came prison time,
hundreds, then thousands, to the jails did go.
Autumn started to feel a bit uneasy
at all the chaos that it had caused,
but every change came with some trial,
and those people had broken the laws...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Never-ending aftershocks of yesterday’s tomorrow has settled in my mind’s eye…there’s so much out there to look forward to…I’d rather not die, but indeed, I must live to see the light of day take wing from on high! Cleanse me with your hope, oh Lord of Accord and you are so perfectly imperfect to me…and you shine bright like a diamond in the cave and you mirror my pain with healing, crystal-clear rain! I’m out of my mind in the past, present and future…what’s my fate? What is there in store for me? Why do I hestitate? I hesitate for the sake of Your honor-packed jubilance, not his blasphemed envy! Good news (It’s intriguing! Very!) – I’m suriving and still standing tall; bad news (nothing brand-new or exciting really): I failed the test with a F- for failure to the extreme…your sub-zero eyes see right through me and I can feel the coals heating up in my heart! I’m mad to begin with and I’m sick of breaking apart! Deplorable Reality’s strategic tragedy stings like billion’s of buzzin’ busy bees out of their honey dens or hives! Deal with the cards, roll the dice. Feel my words – you’re my livin’ sacrifice! We need a happily ever after after all! Deplorable Reality’s strategic tragedy stings like billion’s of buzzin’ busy bees out of their honey dens or hives! You kill’d me inside and out and I won’t pout like a child, running about! You killed me with your lonesome song and I have no slight doubt about that, if you know what I am speaking of no doubt! Are you damaged by your suicidal depression? Do you have any clue what I’ve been through? Deplorable Reality’s strategic tragedy stings like billion’s of buzzin’ busy bees out of their honey dens or hives! I am a money saver, but a worthless beggar or an ungrateful waster OR a real big spender ~ I don’t mean to offend a single soul or drive anyone insane in any way, shape or form…I am just telling you the truth straight out of my brain while I lay down and type this verse up in my solitary, yet unique, wild and stunning-blue dorm…avoiding a bee swarm like escaping a windstorm with stingers flying all around me every direction I turn! Every angle I watch, there is danger looking at me straight in the eyes…replicating the death stare of the Lord of the Flies…my hope and faith withers and dries like a weed, left in the sun…pulled up from the ground by the gardener himself…rotting away…today…
I wake up in the morning and have to decide which side of the bed I will get out of today – it
doesn’t really matter, because there is no one there to block my exit on either side.
I turn on the TV, not to see what’s on, but just to hear another voice in the kitchen other than
the one’s inside my head reminding me that I am having breakfast alone once again.
I once thought that working from home, through the internet, for myself and by myself,
would be a wonderful thing – but, that was when I used to change out of my pajamas at
some time during the day.
Now the keyboard sits there mocking me in my loneliness. The monitor acts more as a
mirror to remind me I haven’t shaved in weeks than it does to display words of a manuscript
that I should be working on.
How lonely am I? I actually called my mother the other day. Rock bottom.
I watch out my window for the approaching mailman so I can open the door as he is
depositing bills I can no longer pay into the mail slot on my door. He says he likes my
Spiderman pajamas the best.
If I had a reason to do so, I would probably take a shower. But then, I have become
accustomed to my own stench and there is nobody else around to offend, save for the
mailman, who I noticed doesn’t hang around to talk much any more. Could be related, I
suppose.
I don’t even please myself any more. My imagination is not sharp enough to fantasize about
things I haven’t experienced for real in such a long time.
There was a time when I would not answer my phone when an 800 number was displayed on
the handset. Today I do. Talking to someone bemoaning that I am late with another
payment, again, is, at least, talking to someone.
Stop mocking me Qwerty!
I have given names to the inanimate objects in my apartment. At times, they talk back to
me. I think today may be my birthday; the dishwasher was smiling at me. The dirty dishes
inside now have mold on them.
The mailman didn’t come today – perhaps it is Sunday. I wore my Spiderman pajamas for
no good reason.
I didn’t write anything again today. These words are just floating around in my head. I am
pretending you are a stranger reading them to make me feel a little less lonely. You
believing you are that stranger is just further validation that I am, indeed, crazy.
Sometimes words can flay a heart’s tissues
Inflict wounds that last a lifetime
Sear the mind with painful recollections
And make you just want to die
But then again, inconsequential words
Meaningless chit chat
To appease the conscience of the one who speaks
That something’s been said at last
Are just as corrosive
Salt rubbed into open wounds
That aren’t acknowledged
They offend more than comfort
And would be better not said at all
Then there is the silence
Ah…the twisted warped suffocating silence
The silence of self-preservation
Bought at the price of someone’s sanity…life
A silence born out of the knowledge
That THIS will take an investment
Of emotions and time
And so nothing is said
You silently withdraw
All the one in pain hears is silence
A silence that shrieks
Of rejection
Dead silence
Where once there was banter
Unchecked laughter
……joy……
When you say nothing at all
That leaves a gaping hole in my heart
I try to fill it up with memories
Of when you were courageous and brave
Strong enough to speak
Words that would heal
Instead of this weak thing you’ve become
Only caring for your own well-being
The filling falls out
Incompatible to my heart’s tissues
To the reality of you...
It doesn’t hold
The holes remain
And I slink away
To nurse my pain
And I draw further into my shell
Cocoon myself in outer silence
Yet my heart is in constant conversation
With the person you used to be
When you knock
All you hear
Is resounding silence
For you have taught me well
I am a good student
I will keep silent
I will not tell you sweet little nothings
While my heart bleeds
And you pretend not to see
I won’t talk of the weather
If I can’t talk about the storm in my heart
I won’t talk of inconsequential things
To give you the sense of normalcy you crave
I want you to be brave
No, I won’t stoop that low
And so……………
I pretend
Not to be there
Two can play this game
And I wait for the knocking to cease
To be left in peace
Safe from a world
Where people say
Nothing at all.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
The title of this poem is the title of one of my favorite songs by Ronan Keating. It is the exact opposite of the message of the song which is absolutely fabulous. Give it a listen if you have the time.....http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuJrEBtmM1Q. It was the theme song for Notting Hill, one of my favorite movies.
Striving for Political Correctness
By Elton Camp
It would just be the end
If by words we do offend.
There’s the devil to be paid
If we call a spade a spade.
“Vertically challenged” means short.
“Horizontally challenged,” a fat sort.
“Nondiscretionary fragrance” means we stink.
“Living impaired” means your’re dead I think.
“Cerebrally challenged” and you are plain dumb.
“Hispanic” and it is Mexico that you come from.
“Niceness deprived” tells that you are mean.
As “oppressor-to-be” a young boy can be seen.
“Follicularly challenged” guys really are bald.
“Gay” is what males who hump men are called.
The “residentially flexible” will live out on the street.
“Nontraditional success” and a poor man you meet.
“Economically maximized” describes one rich.
“Economically marginalized” do live in a ditch.
“Visually challenged” is the blind guy you see.
“Reality challenged” people are crazy as can be.
“Locationally challenged” folks are those lost.
“Unjust self-esteem reduction” criticism’s cost.
A “maintenance portal” is the name for a manhole.
While “sexually dysfunctional” is a perverted soul.
The garbage collector is a “sanitation engineer.”
“Petroleum transfer specialist” pumps gas I fear.
The “termination specialist” other people does kill.
“Body entrepreneur” describes a prostitute if you will.
“Factually unencumbered” are the ignorant folk.
“Alternative answer” means an error was spoke.
If lazy, then we aren’t “motivationally disposed.”
“Discretionary fragrance” and perfume is nosed.
The “chronologically gifted” are just old.
“Rustically inclined” is redneck I’m told.
“Vertically gifted” people describes those who are tall.
“Client of the correctional system” a prisoner we call.
“Cerebrally gifted” people are those who are smart.
Be “metabolically challenged,” and dead thou art.
“Nonwaged” and it is a job you do lack.
“Amorally gifted” and a crook you track.
“Knowledge conveyor” speaks of the teacher.
“Personality repressor” describes the preacher.
With a “conceptual conflict” you are not sure.
The “under-alert” just some sleep will cure.
Now we are expected to play the “correctness” game.
Which means we call almost nothing by its true name.
In keeping with that, you see,
This poem is correct as can be.