Long Outlawed Poems
Long Outlawed Poems. Below are the most popular long Outlawed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Outlawed poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s Christmas day
Hip hip hooray
With festive cheer
And our family here
The feast begins
Amidst all our grins
Crackers pulled, mottos read
Fancy hats upon each head
With turkey eaten
We’ll not be beaten
Enter the flaming pud
Which looks so good
But whence it came?
This pudding of fame
‘Twas a Roman cook
Where first we look
Making pottage of meat and veg
Placing in readiness on a window ledge
By the fourteenth century frumenty it became
Meat with fruit, wine and spices, it was not the same
This soupy dish was a fasting meal
A preparation for Christmas was the deal
With added eggs, breadcrumbs and fruit it changed once more
Plum pudding lasted until banned under Puritan law
The arrival of King George, the ‘Pudding King’
Got the outlawed pud back in the swing
For his royal feast he did declare
Plum pudding would be the dessert fayre
By Victorian days the meat had gone
Enter the Christmas pud known by everyone
Merry Christmas!
~~~
A seasonal frame of mind led to this!
Where did the quality of
life go?
We were on bicycles,
jumping rope, eating popsicles.
Who cared about dirt?
We threw our body into
pools with nary a care.
The elderly with canes, just
harrumphed and gave us
watery, cataract stares.
With nary a care, we played
hide and seek.
And rode to wealthier places
to just take a peek.
Radio was all that we had.
Great stories we listened too!
And guess what, youngins?
We were grateful and glad.
No flashing blue screens, no
food was delivered.
Mom cooked it all so well.
Why, we drooled and had
shivers!
Stores were tiny and owned
privately by hard working owners
that knew your name?
Big, unfriendly stores now to me,
are as cold as a wintry rain!
Some of us remember, when
Church was a must.
When nuns in long, black gowns
were people who had our trust!
No child swore, or if they did
got a spanking.
Today? They go to a school
psychologist for a ranking.
Few go to church, as back in the day!
They are online playing the
Internet game of the day.
God's crucifix is no longer on display?
Great,,,we can break now a commandments
loot, burn and kill?
Life is more fun that way?
A fine life highway we have set for boys
and our girls.
But then sexes are outlawed,
puts me in a total whirl.
I am so glad to not be in love
with the Internet Nation.
It started off well...but is no
longer a sane creation.
People cannot move one inch
without their iPhone dear?
The sites on the Internet show
far more than a derrière!
I hope we get close,as humans
once be!
And stop the madness of
FaceTime replacing reality.
Sure, many will disagree and
think I am a jerk
That's fine, be on your way
and just twerk!
7-5-2021
While out and about
an unexpected over bare ring bout
to defecate arose,
where sphincter asserted clout
and would excrete
despite without doubt...
if closing distance
(to reach rental abode)
beaten out by loosening sphincter muscle
transmitting excretory code
set sights on prowl for outlawed, secluded,
and wooded make shift commode
and essentially for naught negating
toddler toilet training, sans
getting potty trained undone
via my tushy ready to explode
and blast immense solid waste byproduct
(oh...close to the size of Rhode Island)
thus a marathon race against time
found immediate readiness to pull off roadside
to access make shift water closet
generating image firmly in pooping mode
grabbing hold of a tree trunk
(a mini rocky horror picture show, -
this analogy included for no particular reason
other than as a non-sequitur)
and also to convey, how I tried
to allay distractions
while painful contractions flowed
(perhaps approximating woman
on verge of giving birth)
but...no matter, aye could envision,
an ever increasing heavy m*****f****** load
hence approaching Highland Manor Apartments
this chap abandoned
prior simultaneous evacuation plan
starkly aware probability for secluded spot sunk
(nonetheless, thy darting darting
anguish, futile lizard like lookout,
a geico Gekko whose cheeks did blush
even for a measly Georgian bush
quickened nsync with rectal spasms
visual scouting industrialized
where backhoes didst crush
once a time sacred happy hunting grounds
of native Americans, now royally flush
with newly built vinyl city re: urban sprawl a gush,
where cookie cutter houses long since bringing hush
puppies muzzled, yet never the less and mush
a doo doo about nothing) except sprint
ting to the verizon with a void push
immortalizing indigenous tribes ghosts rush
peopling infrastructure affixing
urbanization with lamb basted,
and sigh lance warrior whoosh!
The youth have teeth like tigers or tight ropes
Abundant mess of forest hair, d u r e s s
They charge the strings with their electric hopes
And bloody drum with battered sticks possess
(Refrain:
Tattooed wrinkles in flash pan of gray matter
In classic dress, this outlaw band of clatter)
(CHORUS OF VOICES:
The youth have teeth of forest hair
They charge with battered sticks.)
The youth have walked in circles, find themselves
In p r e e x i s t e n t footprints, m e r r i l y
Going round, and flying off crude music shelves
And plucking h e a r t s t r i n g s arbitrarily
(Refrain:
Tattooed wrinkles in flash pan of gray matter
In classic dress, this outlaw band of clatter)
(CHORUS OF VOICES:
Find themselves merrily
Going round arbitrarily)
B a d a $ $ at one time - a m i l l i o n to one
W O N over generous v e n e r a t i o n
They wore suits as they melted in the s u n
The-sin-of-getting-old g e n e r a t i o n
(CHORUS OF VOICES:
veneration
plucking heartstrings
a million to one
tattooed wrinkles
under duress
outlawed by the youth
alzheimers
parkinsons
walkers
death beds)
They wore suits as they melted in the s u n
The-sin-of-getting-old g e n e r a t i o n….
(CHORUS OF VOICES:
They wore the sin of getting old)
I weep in streets where erst the faithful trod,
Churches stand void,whilst taverns brim with glee,
And cry I out for mercy righteous God.
The painted panes grow dim,their light is flawed,
The pulpit soundeth naught but mockery-
I weep in streets where erst the faithful trod.
The sacred choir's song is hushed,outlawed,
Their silence bought with coin of blasphemy,
And cry I out for mercy righteous God.
The alehouse glows; each drunkard is applauded,
Each sin doth shine as virtue seemeth be-
I weep in streets where erst the faithful trod.
The holy house now dealeth wine unawed,
And maketh crimes to save the its dignity,
And cry I out for mercy,righteous God
Yet still I kneel,though mocked by men flawed,
Lord,breath anew Thy breath in sanctity-
I weep in streets where erst the faithful trod,
And cry I out for mercy,righteous God.
A wall patched with lies
keeps the cracks from widening
but mementos fall
books, portraits, medals, and gifts—
gravity claims all relics
curtains shroud the crimes
centuries of stifled screams
glass betrays the hush
even the floorboards confess—
house itself is culpable
clothes, ties, hats, combs, wigs—
the trinkets of faded grace
heaped upon the street
flames burn their false finery—
pretense collapses to ash
palaces demolished
cubes enforce obedience
bankers on the run
food scraps sucked from rubbish binds—
can't stop the way of progress
rebellion outlawed
truth is now rule of edict
ugliness is king
screens implode in blinding flash
we gnaw at our own silence
mother will not come
her arms obliterated
father shamed and named
we crawl with pitiful bleats—
orphans of our own making
Living in circles
Circle circle circle
That is all we all do
Repeating same thing
Same routine same agenda
It could be in defferent ways
Yet the world rolls in circles
Living in circles
Circles circles circles
All the time
All the season
All the period of time
We never change
Either does change
Gave us a chance in circles
So we are like a repeat button
Always on play
As the things we know
Never change
Apart from going in
Circles
Living in circles
Circle circle circle
Even the world goes around
In circles
As we are the reality of it movements
So we never stop this circle life
Everyday same things
Goes around
Everytime same chances are
Around our goal
It could be improved
It could be outlawed
Yet it all goes in circle
Living in circles
Circle circle circle
History and events
Are part of humans movement
in this circle world
No wonder same things
Same circumstances
Same wars
Same calamities
Are been repeated
Generation after generation
It dont change either does
Change gave a chance
To live beyound
Living in circles
"Redemption: The Children of Infinity"
from the belly
of the new world
revolution sleeps
biding its time ;
when all the walls
of Rome crumbled
new empires dreamed
of freedom,
releasing humans
baptised demons
no need for, sentient reasons,
no need for law
religion, politics
justice, judgement
outlawed
now corrupt,
now defunct
in the
One World ;
once humanity
had feelings, then
artificial hearts pumped
cloned thoughts -
electric symmetry,
turned on the hot-wired
bodies of work,
slick with artful
design, the Light
pristine
and transparent
free energy
switches on
the freshly
resurrected,
no veins.
no lush gardens
rooms for bleeding
seeds for blooming
electric gods
breeding the
children of infinity
sinless
without error
valued so much more
worthy
the regenerative
species,
granted redemption
no need for contracts
the soulless
have no need
for such useless
warranties
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
cyberpunk
a genre of science fiction set in a lawless subculture of an oppressive society dominated by computer technology.
“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth.
I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.”
“Whoever believes in me,
rivers of living water
will flow from within them.”
redemption, definition.
1. the action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.
2. a thing that saves someone from error or evil.
3. the action of regaining or gaining possession of something in exchange for payment, or clearing a debt.
4. the action of buying one's freedom.
What does a young naïve Christian think
When a hooded desperado storms a prayer room,
His scary presence quiets the praying tongues ,
And his outlawed round replaces hope with doom?
He doesn’t think, instead he silently prays :
Father, forgive their misinformed cruel idiocy,
Teach these men that suicide is not an escape
From the punishment for their bloody idiosyncrasy.
What does an aging single mother think
When the hope of a graduate daughter or son
Turns out to be that unthinkable news of death,
The bullet-riddled corpse, the end of the rising sun?
She does not think, instead she miserably cries:
Father, blight their brows with sulfurs hot,
Numb their souls with the gall of unending pain,
And their hope for bliss in death reduce to naught.
What does the orphaned little boy or girl think
When the bright elder sibling they adore
Calls to say that she’s been forced to call
And say goodbye before the triggers go?
The orphaned boy or girl does not think, instead they howl:
Father, tell the murderous killers to spare my sister
For there is no-one else to wash my clothes
And none to help with the assignments and dinner.
And what does the heavenly merciful Creator think
When the roars of guns and the sobs of death
Force him to turn and cast his all-seeing eyes below
To behold such thick-skinned extermination of breath?
He does not think, instead he wonders:
What breed of men is this I accidentally made,
To wound and mutilate my innocent lambs,
Rejoicing as their lives sorrowfully fade?
(The massacre of well over 150 Garissa University College students by the Al-Shabaab militants on 2nd April 2015)
Sun and clouds play cat and mouse in mid fall
They are too bored to attempt anything else
Even in my dreams, I've never seen a cow jump over the moon;
Nor in my waking hours have I seen a dog outrun a cat. But I have
Seen a spider real in an ant for breakfast. Before his demise, I attempted
To direct the ant on a different path, but he refused. And one morning,
There was a yard bug trapped in the web of a black widow spider. I spotted
The spider about 6 feet away. I then proceeded to free the yard bug who
Lived to see at least a few more hours. I could not protect him further.
I have often wondered if I should have interfered with nature's way.
In the world of nature, for example, I see the need for snakes.
Snakes for educational purposes in the zoo, I understand.
But to have snakes for pets, I am at a complete loss.
Neither the snake nor humans are well served thereby.
Were I king of the world, snakes as pets would be outlawed.
I may not have 2020 vision, but that's the way I see it.
100921PSCtest, Let's Mix It Up, Constance La France. 3P
Poetry/Couplet unrhymed/Imagism unrhymed/Free Verse