Long Opprobrium Poems
Long Opprobrium Poems. Below are the most popular long Opprobrium by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Opprobrium poems by poem length and keyword.
The panels faded o'er time earlier creativity constrains
Yet the material value of past visions maintains
Canvas now tinted with darker hues; youthful vigor restrains
But each, underlying tone, burnished with yesterday's dreams, remains
Once gilded strokes now meaningless, paternalistic strains
Yet the meandering pattern an innocent quality still contains
Each, delicate, insecure swab the grainy picture retains
But on the brash backstrokes the forgiving eye trains
Every callous blot each year more opprobrium drains
But every thoughtful deviation the quilted fabric ingrains
Glossy pictures of green pastures corroded by earthy stains
But ephemeral beauty from burgeoning fount surrealistic vista still feigns
The counterfeit copy the brokered ideal even more disdains
But the bartered images serve to rationalize nominal gains
Trying to express horrifically unsavoury and odious acts of heinousness,
such unspeakable repugnant opprobrium packed with horrendousness
is a test stacked with specific unfavourable hopeless stress,
seen a crying fuzz of the weakened redundant mental mess.
You will find,
when telling of the mad,
you're unkind,
and seemingly bad.
People will treat you insanely s*it,
but insanity is you when you tell of it,
in short: if the stories are mad
and the people in them are mad
but nobody knows they are mad
when telling others you look mad
*because sometimes the simple words
better the poetry
with regards to simple minded herds,
that's what life is showing me
**V**
\ /
\ /
v
He is her knight in shining armor in all angles and sight…
He has all the courage to go and ask her hand,
From the woman’s father who’s well-known as a noble man;
Words of humiliations, he swallows them all,
He is a commoner but his love for her is so true and pure.
Despite their opprobrium, he keeps fighting for his great love,
In a humble way, he begs for her parents’ blessings
knocking their wooden heart;
Bowing before her father… he implores…
Making faithful promises to keep forevermore.
His heart of gold and few hectares of land
enough dowries he can give,
all for his dearest one.
For she’s their only daughter,
their lovely princess
very precious,
and so pretty-she really is.
The suitor’s words are passionate, fervent and firm,
The man is so adamant, he still refuses him,
His words continue…spewing cogent powers…
Finally melts her mother’s heart---
His struggles to win her and be both blessed will soon be over,
He’ll surely conquer for his love is so great proven to last forever.
Sept. 17, 2013 9.25 pm
©2013by Leonora Galinta
First Place
Contest: Epic Only
Judged: 9/24/2013
Sponsor: Greatest Poet PD
Ninth Place
Contest: In Honor of Painter Charles Haigh Wood & His Painting
Judged: 10/1/2013
Sponsor: Poet Isaiah Zerbst
In loves harbor moored in the dock of regression
and anchored in the quicksand of incontinence
as briny waves of inconstancy wash over my jaded bough
scouring my white-washed deck over and over
leaving the silty residue of bartered romances
tarnishing the fibers of my brigand hull
peeling back the glossy facade that coated my proud vessel
the drift wood of jilted lovers floats all around
shrouding my leased yacht with the residual chaff
of once fertile fronds that bloomed with romance
then were blighted by the cankering disease of insincerity
tides bring in the brackish seaweed of of salty flings
that never rooted my wandering eye or planted my wavering feet
which were tossed to and fro by a truant wind
constantly moving in a listless, uncharted direction
bandied about by the restless currents of change
barges of opprobrium clamor about in my choppy waters
tugging at my corroded conscience pushing the dross
of my intemperate, impulsive dalliances into my feckless psyche
COVID-19 pandemic analogous how indigenous peoples got felled...
Woebegone, enraged spirits
holographic images taciturn
journeying somberly aghast
at their stolen sacred lands... mourn
dead souls impossible mission
sabotaged aery mission endeavor
happy hunting grounds upheaval
witnessed gaunt bloody sojourn,
perhaps collective aboriginal ghosts return
to haunt cruel innocent heir/heiresses
regarding interlopers, si?
Malicious intent birthed in subsequent
quick succession to adventitious,
(nevertheless grievous) events
visited upon heads of storied "Indians")
misnomer spurred European explorers
(more particularly exploiters),
when "discovering" the Americas
to dole out (deliberately)
contaminated accouterments,
plus various sundry trappings
to native inhabitants.
Gross misdeeds of our long deceased forebears
debauched, decorated, and dedicated
footloose hedonistic jackbooted violent men
loosed mayhem opening pandora's box
unwittingly and/or intentionally disseminating
seeds of annihilation germinating lethal pandemic
decimating innocent ofttimes knowingly
unleashing opportunistic virile organisms
without vital immunity linkedin
bodily defense mechanisms.
With advantage of hindsight
always 20/20 (especially
calendrical juncture planetary
space/time continuum 2020)
opprobrium plentifully quoted
as cosmic consciousness skews perspective,
whereby admission acknowledged
conquistadors looted, pillaged, and raped
(blithely, effectively, and indiscriminately killed)
every man, woman, and child
and/or sowed cultural abomination
acceleration, adulation, aeration...
Though thoroughly grounded
within secular humanism
courtesy kickstarting metaphysical realism
philosophical, teleological...
essentially Unitarianism paradigm
whereby ripple repercussions of actions
(think butterfly effect
starring Ashton Kutcher - ha)
trigger domino falling action,
yet additionally affects fate,
particularly he/she who
activated, cultivated, generated...
chain of events, particularly
brutal, deplorable, and unforgivable misdeeds.
Vexation seeps through sighs
As the pen finds comfort
Sharing the same story
Nonsensical pretty boys
With smoke cloud habits
And bloodshot ponderings
Vaunting on their
Newsworthy delinquency
With incessant metal bar consequences
Promulgating in the same breath
they’re gaining
New ground
Breaking the cleanse
Of poisoning
Their liver
And feeling the linear
Coldness of a countertop
On their nose
With a half glass of water
In a ring of loneliness
On their nightstand
The gulp of insomnia
Rudely digs its hook of candidness
In your empathic being
Melodramatic memories
Of empty dinner table
Upbringings
Spending school nights
Placing cigarettes
In plastic bottles
With front porch
Heart to hearts
With their second self
Pulling the sleeves
Of sweatshirts once borrowed
Over tattooed knuckles
Shivering against the disbelief
That loyalty in this town
Is only face to face
Rehashing
first heartbreaks
With the outlook
That mistrust follows
Demons
That look just like you
The way you
Introduce yourself
With skintight beliefs
Low cut distractions
Met with
Amorous disposition
Abrade their thoughts
Of you from tantalizing
To discomfiture
And their ears
Can’t handle
Opprobrium especially from their friends
When you would
Put fingers
In yours like an obstinate child
Just to keep
Looking at them
With oblivious blissful daydreams
Even if you were
Stumbling drunk
Out of their broken front door the night before
After learning
They sent flowers to someone else
Like a man with his paramour
Leaving your existence
In a blighted state
Surrounded by empty walls
For
They
Took it all
But don’t worry
The guilt of breaking your heart
Is easier for them to swallow
Than the nausea
Traveling up their throat
With the spew of your adoration
When man becomes
the man's dog ...
When the clear appears
the dark...
When the authority acts as
injustice ...
When the law lives on
the disorder ...
When violence establishes itself as
the truth...
When the ideology admitted as
the religion...
When all love is
the pain ......
When love then
weaken...
When to defeat instead
to touch ...
Then this world will be
close to extinguish ...
Then our blackout will be
imminent...
But it won't be exactly
so if, man does not
disappear in the opprobrium,
in barbarism ,,,!
There are people who hide behind their sarcasm
scorning others with their humorous word spasms
The irony behind it all is that it isn't funny to those
who have been watered by contempt like a big hose
I have a neighbor who gibed me for years, so funny
or so she thought, Ha Ha ! I never did like mockery
She constantly put me down with snarky contempt
what I said what I did, poking fun with sly exempt
She sneers then scoffs, then adds, I'm just joking
but it was always to my expense, she didn't think
Words that are biting, sardonic, cruel, can hurt
so I ended up avoiding her and acting very curt
Some people put others down so they can look good
listening to her mouthing, I never understood
How artful people can be sarcastic but not with kind
It can end friendships, and kill some peace of mind
So the next time you want to make fun like a King
think twice, not everyone likes opprobrium loathing
Esteem when you can but don't sprinkle abusive salt
may this poem turn you to good moments of Gestalt
For all those of you who think sarcasm is funny
I happen to think its hurtful, mean and phony.
Mystic Rose
Dec 1, 2021
She still lives in my neighborhood but after thirty years
still neighbors, but not friends
I smile and go on my way, that is how it ends.
Clouds hover over fealty's
splendored domain
Grey patches our devolving
relationship stain
Dark shadows of doubt stride our
weather vane
Jading wind of indifference; eerie,
dolesome refrain
Thunderous echo of despair from
distant, careening train
Lightening's serrated edges strike
our exposed terrain
Duplicitous motives weathered bond
doth strain
Torrential outbursts cannot all the
opprobrium drain
Icy pellets laced with malice
bombard each, desolate plain
Soaked psyches now bleached with
residual disdain
From all rational discourse spent
minds abstain
Penitent tears cannot cleanse the
mildewed brain
Flooded tributaries flowing from
fidelity's bulging vein
Eroding the final links of fealty's,
tenuous chain
Sails gliding on the shimmering sea,
don't be hasty to engulf silence
as the chapel's choir engages in a spiritual oratorio praising Him;
an octave higher or lower brings
their inspirational hymn to a desired sound of felicity...
those tones that the loud organ makes!
We, as they, are lifted by the sustenance of faith,
too pure and orthodox to extinguish our oneness of spirit;
adhering to rigid standards and beliefs...forbidding sin
to feed on its vain opprobrium and oppress purity!
We, as they, dwell in this oracle to outshine indefinitely,
and outreach every unreachable and unconquerable limit!
Sails gliding on the shimmering sea,
watch the advancing sunrays osculate the waves of the harbor,
and the optical images that reality conveys!
See the ospreys which learn their skill by osmosis...
that even the ovenbirds can't acquire;
hear the believers's proclamation presaging and predicating unity!
Irreverent and doubtful soul, don't pursue vanity:
don't be similar to a prancing horse that surprises the rider;
don't prattle when foolishness becomes a hangover!
You have put too much effort into exhibiting your valor...
hardly serving a purpose and be totally useful;
be like the sails gliding on the shimmering sea!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci