Long Outrage Poems
Long Outrage Poems. Below are the most popular long Outrage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Outrage poems by poem length and keyword.
(Southern hospitality with a twist of lemon and a rope)
Who dares to serve me tea with lemon?!
On my own plantation born in heaven
Flowing in the land of milk and honey
Did I not say please....I'm sure I did
But now comes the first meal of the day spoiled
With a biter taste of lemon in place of honey
What kind of monster does such things?
What kind of creature did we hire?
It is time for them to expire
Someone must swing on the ancient tree
Under the golden sun and canopy of love
To their biter end they must remember
Tea needs honey for the sake of all humanity
Here in the South we pride ourselves on love
Southern hospitality brings tranquility and joy
Bring me my whips and guns for SOMEONE
He, she or it must be punished oh so quickly
Perhaps the word eradicate is more correct
For such an austere occasion on the plantation
Bring me a rope, a tree, a coward, a culprit
That they might dangle for their crime
Wrath is a wondrous thing...don't you think?
Enlightenment arrives in an instant with a lynching
Who dares to come between me and mine?!
For this outrage someone must die
It's an atrocity, a sin against all things me
How does one make a day perfect?
Surely not with lemon on the tray
A tea with honey and a hanging
What could be sweeter in Spring
Some one swinging in the sour breeze
Blossoms white turn into hours sweet
Tea needs honey to be right, served with toast
Crunchy on both sides with a smiley face
Carved out of crust before we get to lunch
Before we bury justice in the dust
Is it too much to ask for orange juice too
Without seeds and void of pulp please!
Freshly squeezed for breakfast pleasure
One execution per day is so delightful
Lemon flowers are so pretty and serene
In fact intoxicating as we watch the hired help
Dangling between the lovely blossoming
A hard days work for honest wages
Is what it is all about here in the South
The circus has come to town
Washington D.C., its prime playground
Congress on the brink of a nervous breakdown
Screaming at President Trump to step down
Donald J. Trump stands center stage
Tweeting and texting with fistic rage
A bull in a china shop, inciting p.c. outrage
While fancying himself a genius-sage
To the left of Trump is former V.P., Joseph Biden
Verbal gaffes all exposed he can't hide in
'Mr. Excitement' can't bring the voters' tide in
He's sure experience alone will help him glide in
Far to Biden's left rants Elizabeth Warren
Her attacks on business, for an ox to gore on
To break up Google and Amazon she'll go to war on
To hell with $100k employee salaries ~ the moron
Our circus is surely a sight for sore eyes to see
And for an encore, we're bringing back Hilary!
It was a party of fleas who dropped some tea into the sea
Created a baby that left its mommy
Now there is an elephant and donkey in the room
So, lets asked who’s the bigger ***?
A spark, a flare, lighting a camel, an affair
Puff of smoke gone, what went wrong?
Bully the pulpit, who’s the culprit
Line drawn and divided by two
A state of iron bars but let’s call it a zoo
Divided into a system of them vs you
Don’t lose your autonomy
Though everyone is still just a monkey
Collectively a swarm of angry bee’s
The brilliants of hatred and judgment
The embellishment establishment pageant
Yesteryear's of days past are today's fears
Financiers, volunteers as November nears
Comparisons, divisions of wealth’s occupations
Frictions, contradictions, comedians
Who will be the next king of the jungle?
Both proclaiming to be the blissful angel
Tis the mating seasons bestial battle
Birdies tweets all about it on the their social
Scandal! Scoundrel! Oh, look there’s a squirrel
The eternal feral quarrel circle
The apex creatures are very territorial
For the king or queen, gerrymandering
The two-party system is the grand pyramid scheme
Bunch of ***holes looking up and bunch of **** looking down
Kiss up, gallop, gossip, stirrup, who will win the crown?
In this cage, enrage, what’s on the front page?
Who’s saying what about minimum wage?
Outrage about an issue? The cockatoos will throw a horseshoe
Here, eat this grass, here, pray at mass, or don’t
They will provide an antidote
Cheer, this one is such a deer, so sincere, so clear
Ok, the political evolution will find a way to prey on the economic roadway
Confusing rat race values, turn to the news and find out who will lose
Here, oats for the goats. No, the grass is greener over there
But be aware because there is a monster troll lair
Despair not of this nightmare, the election will swear to another road
The only condition for this prince is you must kiss this toad
Bam, the payload full of taxes and other critter’s pensions
Hurry up and cooked this eagle thanksgiving is awaiting
Tis the season for the hating, frustrating, debating,
Won, the elephants and donkeys parties are one hell of celebration
After-all in this zoo, the keepers and guests are laughing at you
Updated 5/14/2019
Form:
The outer edge of my mind is brooding,
Steaming, bubbling in ways not soothing.
Outraged at the mistakes unfolding
Out of range yet an anger growing
And better to have you listen….
‘Cause, the message I mention is potent.
Delivered to those in the notion
The outer limits of Source I reckon
Are poised to deploy the great Oceans,
If and if we don’t hear…
There’s a Care we forgot to endear
Watched from the outer most sphere
Burning hot with their spots in my ear.
So heed and make speed to attention…
We owe it the Clean of a loving detail
We’re held on the Means that we prevail
Bread to make right yet wrote that we fail
Spreading fear over years as a ‘no reveal’
OutrageUs! they staged us and hid the Real.
So let me flow within the stream of a wolf
and let me show what the dreams can expose
“Four those… there came four more”
“Exposure through the open doors”
“Make it right” They said,
at the close of a Night and a wake…
“Make it write” They said,
to begin Second Flight before the break
They said… entourage... clean it up!
entourage… ‘enter.our.age’ a better place we should make it. less mistakes like the ship that breaks… over the coral… it’s not okay.
entourage ...2. surroundings or environment
Form:
My fury and outrage remain unabated , it seethes like magma
and spreads itself throughout my being , it is barely contained
I shield it to keep the damage within , so it does not consume me
or those I love and want not to hurt.
My dark raving hisses and steams awaiting release , with screams,
hysteria that I may not be able to save the one that becomes my
vent , the outpouring eruption of pain , that I would whip and lash
with lurid pitch that it might cloak with agony the one whom I love
upon its receipt .
Why cannot I cover it and shift my focus to that which builds and
does not tear down and ravage as I have been ravaged?
Why does not that majesty of things that stand before me
not move me to ease or peace?
Oblivion , that vast chasm that plunges deep within my
soul ice cold heart , I wish it destroyed , but its the only thing
within that seems still alive and beating.
I wish it replaced with tenderness and warmth that it may
mark you with pleasure and not agony, clothe you with
beauty and not the ugliness that has taken up residence
and keeps its rent.
In sackcloth and ashes I mourn the loss of innocence , not
for myself only but for all those who suffer , and raise
not their hands against the perpetrators of their suffering.
God do not let me join in acts of perpetuation , that I strike
others in kind , in repayment for their deeds.
My life has been sacked and looted , thieves have stolen every
precious piece of personality that might make me redeemable.
Raw and naked estate exposed, my inheritance from Adam ,
I was molded in pain and forged by fire imprinted by a storm
of ire......
Oh God , why did you preserve me so that I had not died and
left me alive to cry , scream at the trials of fire that blister
the souls of men....
Awaken oh my heart , do not sleep in the death of love , and
the reign of savage pain , and the cries of those who live in
affliction , whose cries have been silenced before you.....
My tears have become stone , my walls a castles fortress
I cannot cast aspersions it holds you as well as I,
unlike the earth my stone cannot drink in the sun
Job moments
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Behind the glass a painted sorrow gleams;
The eyebrow lifts on cue, the voice is torn;
Indignant tears arrive in practiced streams,
And outrage ships out fresh with every morn.
What passes here for honest human speech
Is counterfeit, stamped smooth to pass as true;
Each hired tongue commands a market's reach,
Each face a sum some quiet ledger knew.
So once a mouth was rented in the dark
For thirty pieces, silver counted twice;
It laid a kiss upon a sacred mark
And gave betrayal the plain name of price.
No need to learn the forger's hidden name—
The old transaction wears a thousand faces;
The silver rings the same in every frame,
And Judas keeps his chair in all the places.
Incited hatred swells to crowd the square,
A cry rehearsed and shouted countless times;
And soon it comes to Pilate's borrowed chair,
Who washes clean his hands of others' crimes.
I will not owe my silence to their pay,
Nor lend my grief to what the ledger sells;
Let others learn the lines the sponsors say—
My unbought heart still rings its own true bells.
And when the dark is loudest, thick with lies,
My hand still finds the sole switch left to press;
The screen goes black, and dumb before my eyes
Falls every scripted grief, each hired distress.
Yet silence only empties out the air;
I go to seek the wild, unquiet shore,
I lift my hands, and turn instead to prayer,
Where breakers speak a truth the screens ignore—
That restless sea, unmasked in its despair,
Speaks truer than the sea of human lies;
While high above, untroubled by affair,
The changeless stars keep God's unshaken skies.
Sometimes
I woke up late and in an outrage.
Alone, did I always have to take a backstage?
Silently she would leave the cottage early
Leaving me on my own, though I loved her dearly.
Often,
after my early morning meal
not to steal my spouse slumber, an ideal
time, I would gather my shawl and walk down
a wooded path illuminated in a rainbow gown.
Sometimes
I remembered those serene days
Wandering in the city, searching new ways,
Knowing her favourite haunts to get a bargain,
Or get a tasty meal in some charming garden.
Often,
when we lived in the city, loneliness
devoured what little I had, it filled me with emptiness.
Now at peace in the forest green I knelt in front of a cross
in a limestone grotto praying, never at loss.
Sometimes
When I saw she'd gone to God knows where,
Jealousy ate my innards, but I had to clear the air.
For I had known her quite a while and always knew
She was a kindly woman, gifted and a lover true.
Often,
I closed my eyes and collected past loving reveries;
he'd hold my hand on serene days and we'd visit parks and galleries.
He had always treated me with kindness and respect.
“God, lead me to touch the brokenness of his heart and let him forget."
Sometimes
Things always came to a head and decided,
Love was too precious that we should be divided.
So I followed her as she winded her way among trees.
Found her before the crucifix praying on her knees.
Often,
I wished he was by my side in prayer.
I heard a snap, I turned to see him standing there.
I brushed away my tears, reaching for him to hold my hand.
I forgot all about my tears, the man I always loved was God's plan.
6/21/2018
A collaboration with Victor Buhagiar, a pleasure to have had him do this with me.
Duets: I Shall Collaborate With You Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: James Edward Lee Sr.
Ok, I'm not paid to think (like the TV shouting heads), I have no real voice (vote), and certainly no credentials—but I'm as invested in America as any high-school citizen can be—I've pledged allegiance 3,000 times (hhmmm ... do they doubt our loyalty?) and when it comes to loving America I'd have to say my classmates and I are at the center of the spell.
I'm afraid we're growing up in the age of hate ... the age of phony outrage where each position large or small is high noon and violence is afoot even when policing ordinary citizens.
We won't address the multitude of old problems in this new age ... we'll just unleash a marquetry of half truths to dispute the proven until unreasoned arguments reach their paranoid fullness. The real world is alarming enough—let's just push that away and ignore it—and while we're at it let's $lut shame the poor, the old, the sick, the unemployed, the hungry and the hand of mercy.
I realize America was never one moral atom bonded for the better—but those anvils that forged us appear neglected or forsaken. I'm afraid what's happening now, what we're seeing and hearing now, is a symphony of erosion—that by the time I have any say at all, the middle class will be gone—
America turned slum—where even the voice of despair will be termed traitor.
We'll only be able to see our greatness in museum souvenir shops where nothing is affordable and everything is made elsewhere.
I received a re-invitation email this morning. A ‘come on, why don’t you want to?’ note that struck me as odd. See, I’ve been ‘tapped’ for a couple of final clubs at Yale. It can happen if you earn top grades and interact easily with male friends by day (the crew club scene is ol’ school patriarchal).
Three of my roommates have been tapped - for one thing or another. The upper-crust, traditional networks and secret societies are a huge part of why young men and women choose Ivy League schools.
I’m not talking about frats - I enjoy flippant misogyny as much as the next breasted-American and really, does “Yo bruh,” sloppy binge drinking, and sexual assault ever really get old? Yeah, it kind-of does.
And I’m not talking about the more open and popular ‘eating clubs’ - no - I’m on-about the elite social orders that enjoy a subversive and exclusive appeal.
Some students desperately want to be ‘IN’ and believe those memberships prove they’ve somehow ‘made it’. Let’s face it, someday - if you can’t actually earn it - that skull & bones handshake might open some doors.
I’ve attended a few meetings, meals, and parties in “tombs” (in upstairs libraries and houses) around New Haven, but I guess I’m just not a ‘joiner.’ Groucho Marx once said that he wouldn’t want to be a member of any club that would have someone like him as a member, maybe that’s it for me too.
Anyway, this harangue is sponsored by the glower that that silly email put on my face.
“What’s the matter?” Leeza asked, seeing my expression.
It reminded me of watching people suck-up and ‘social mountain climb’ to get into my grandmère’s (boring) circle. If your club is so exclusive (email sender), why on God’s confused earth would you want me?
Hey, I like parties, dances and hanging out with eskimos - but I'm a pre-med student and the time/value equation just doesn't stack up for me - I’ve got the M-CAT tests next summer and prepping for those has taken up my life.
It’s ironic though, how by day students at Yale go-on about ‘elitism’ - in stylized outrage - and then by night they strain to join these crew clubs.
.
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slang...
final clubs = elite clubs and secret societies
eskimos - really cool people
crew = elite
Christmas carol on Christmas day!
People are singing, joy outrage!
Christmas shopping at big malls
Girls buy party dress at small stall
Christmas lantern, Christmas lights
Everything is perfect and so right
Christmas wishes, Christmas breaks...
Now you are gone, it so hard to take
In our dining area where memories stay
I look at your empty chair
Missing the times we both love and play
Now looking at my yummy plate
Your favorite chicken pasta is served
I start talking to you
But your presence isn't there
I imagine laughing with you
We make a good conversation about lovelife
Asking what's your favorite Christmas gift
Till we'll sleep at midnight
While TV keeps on talking about Christmas life
There at sofa you are in my arms sleeping
Twisting your hands on my waist
Then I suddenly see tears on my cheeks
Everything is a fantasy
Because you are gone for good
For you are taken away by fate
But how will I spend my Christmas day?
Without you on my side, it's a nonsense...
How many Christmas do I have to spend all alone?
Everyone is happy but I don't quite belong