Long Pathetic Poems
Long Pathetic Poems. Below are the most popular long Pathetic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pathetic poems by poem length and keyword.
A woman who lost everything she owns stands there
by the waterfront where the waves beat upon the shore.
The woman-transformed-***** is a prisoner of war
being carried to the foreign land of an enemy general
across the sea; she cries ceaselessly tears in her eyes
for the unbearable sorrow, she barks fiercely in intolerable anger.
In the eyes of the woman who gazes up
the top of heaven from the bottom of the deepest sea.
She sees the last images of her blood-stained husband,
her dear sons and daughters, died in agony.
For her husband, she shared everything she owned;
for her children, she cradled and lulled them in her bosom to raise—
except for one son who was abandoned in the field at the time of his infancy because of an oracular ill omen.
All these sorrows are unwanted bitter memories to recall, crueler than
the cruelest fate for a woman to undergo.
Now, she climbs higher up the mast
to appeal to her deep inner heart’s mortification;
to let others see her transmuted figure, an ugly *****,
her annoying bark reaches to the furthest point of the sea.
Is Amphitrite heard her heartrending cry?
For the ship lists by the billow Poseidon rises,
alas, but then, she loses her balance and falls
to the deck vomiting blood, she ends her pathetic life;
this *****’s resentment tossed by the raging waves,
at the end, was thrown upon the shore and became a standing rock.
The rock beckons the ships that pass the straits to tell her grudge,
but to the heedless seafarers’ ears it sounds like the mere surges
that come and hit the rock. However, at times, it sounds
in their ears, like a ***** barking feebly from her bleeding heart
because of all her puppies are taken away;
that’s why, legend says,
the sailors called this rock “the poor *****’s rock.”
Thru deliberate seductive
liaisons, ploys, and underhanded gambits,
I tendered illicit, explicit and complicit shenanigans
blatant actions to foment coital adulteration.
Ofttime these discrete liaisons found me removing
linkedin metallic keepsake symbolizing union.
Years elapsed since this spouse pledged his troth,
he sported husbandly marital vows courtesy
monogrammed nondescript ring.
Impossible mission prevails to locate complimentary
jeweled tokens bespeaking our joint monogamous fidelity.
Yours truly beset with genuine disheartened woe
no matter public affections, he never doth show
thee above stated guilty admission signifying
mine absent overtures
(indicating even marginal wedded bliss),
the missus posits as wanting from me,
a common garden variety generic Joe Schmoe.
Self awareness heightened
within mental cogs and wheels
as if of a sudden hindsight brought
into sharp focus think barely audible
high pitched squeals
nsync with and accompanied by newsreel
silently displaying story
(solely my viewing pleasure) of mein kampf
metaphorically yours truly blown to bits
while hoisting myself by own petard
vigorously spiriting and
pitching me head over heels.
Regale thee dear reader,
I strive with utmost zeal
plus cathartic to expunge, (albeit poetically)
my pathetic, quixotic,
and reasonable rhyming spiel
hoopfully mine lame literary endeavor
won't upset any spur of the moment meal
thus tis wise I beat a hasty retreat
before ye sic on me Achilles heel
versatile scouts i.e. English language
verb boss and noun sensical police,
yours truly here expert escape artist
dog gone hard to grab hold,
cuz I trumpet art of making the deal.
Proclaiming high fidelity to wife high wed
she already with child (our first)
into holy matrimony we did nervously tread
"quod erat demonstrandum"- Q.E.D.
"what was to be shown" courtesy yours truly
this once upon a time
(about two and a half dozen
Earth orbitz ago) time newlywed.
Now he frets and experiences woebegone
as testimony scratching out
yet another one of his plaintive,
quirky, somber, ridiculously shown,
herewith I attempted to communicate none
previous endeavor ever considered exemplary
yet I diligently, honorably,
and literally try to hone
elusive talent hours daily
hermetically sealed, and sequestered alone.
So now it's official:
there is a trade war
between the U.S. and Canada.
Do we really know what for?
The POTUS claims it's about fentanyl
coming over the border,
but that dangerous chemical ain't exactly plentiful
coming out of my country, a land of law and order.
It's just a flimsy excuse;
a way to heap abuse and utter untruths
about a country that will not bow down
to the whims of a pathetic clown.
Sadly, in this situation
between traditionally friendly nations
there will only be tit-for-tat retaliation,
and the economic devastation
will in no way bring validation
to the asinine machinations
of the current U.S. administration.
The Pumpkinfuhrer only wants to sow devastation.
He is truly an abomination
and is now being confronted without hesitation.
His actions have certainly set a serious tone.
"America First" is about to become "America Alone".
The chiro gave the manipulation as usual,
guaranteed to solve all ills for a day;
we drove thro' rainbows like Pilgrim's Progress,
what should have been more was definitely less.
These magic cures and stimulants like viagra,
were pathetic, naive, just didn't last mister,
I was glad that I could rise above such trivia,
unfortunately, it wasn't the case for Olivia,
God must have had a macabre sense f humour,
because being straightforward was just a rumour,
when he invented women as a strange friend,
it turned out to be a nightmare with no end.
Much as we love them for holding our 'dick,'
their mindset won't be solved by having a 'click.'
The face you now see
Is not really me
It’s a “MASK” I have found
When all I could do
Was staring at the ground.
I put the “MASK” upon my face
In hopes it would replace
This pathetic insecure wimp
Who’s stuck in a dark place
My “MASK” I use to conceal
How inside I truly feel
As the true self that I see
Is unbearable to reveal.
It’s this “MASK” you now see
That helps me forget who I am
Gives me confidence and power
To be who I wish I could be
Oh to be bold, confident and cool
Not have to feel useless
And perceive myself as a fool
To be able to shine
Through my dark inner core
To be free of my fear
And not feel embarrassed anymore
But until that day comes
And I see myself with love
I will wear this found “MASK”
As it fits me like a glove
Form:
The melody was soothingly refreshing, coming from the east.
Do you hear it? I asked the others, including an ugly wildebeest.
It’s the fern wheel, he said, acting terrified of the Zen-like tune.
He lumbered off to do some Halloween howling at the moon.
I had forgotten what a pansy wansy this dandy can be.
I looked at the rose bush and said “How pathetic is he?”
The rose bush shut her eyes and shushed me in a hot way.
She wanted to hear the fern wheel’s song over his ugly bray.
Seriously I said, is that really just a common fern wheel?
Not ordinary in any kind of way, she replied. Here is the deal.
The fern wheel was transmogrified from the good witch of the north.
I could tell you more about it, she said and so forth.
sexy alligator Sue sat alone, nursing her drink at the bar
the umbrella in her rum turned a bit, not very far
Whispered to her you are going to find the love of our life
Along came an English man, but he was with his third wife
Sue knew she was a hottie, she played it to the max
The next fellow she saw, was carrying a super large sax
He played sorrowful blues music, which caused her to blush
Against a thin wall, you could hear a toilet flush
This is a dive, thought sexy alligator, but I dare not give up now
Next potential date brought his mother, a persnickety cow
Women who eat in bars are pathetic, she said to Sexy Alligator Sue
Pointing her hoof in a nasty way – mean lady, that cow Lou.
i do not notice the peeling white polish on my nails. the blinding mirror has betrayed me once more and now my body wants in. i now bite my nails but i do not notice its bitter tang—my eyes are paralyzed to the screen as it dissects me; it is the first to forsake me. the mirror is false. in the scrutinizing eye of the camera each imperfection seizes the spotlight; beneath all layers of falsity—the smudged eyeliner, the thick lashes, the sharp-smelling nail polish—lies a pathetic 16-year-old girl who can only pray for a way to fix her face, her body, her smile, her laugh— she can only lay motionless as she gouges out her stomach with the hope that by morning, appetites will become nothing more than a myth. the mirror cannot help but lie when the little girl engrossed in fantasies of magic, greek gods, and the idea that she could become anything now cannot see further than the hand-held mirror inches from her face and the honed blade of the tweezer tips gripped between her mangled fingernails that lay like salivating wolves ready to pounce on the next blemish— the mirror cannot help but lie.
My mind is constantly attempting to comprehend the utter mess in my head
But never once had it succeeded in any of its numerous attempts
And believe me when I say there were many
I have pleaded and shed tears for just one day of tranquil
Because it is always far too much for me to handle
Unfortunately, it seems as if it does not intend to give me relief
So, I have to suffer for my incompetence and stupidity
Thinking that I can fix the mess in my head and mind
And not even being capable of doing that
It puts me in a constant state of feeling overwhelmed
And wishing to exist no longer
Which deteriorates my health ever so slightly, making matters worse
And the best part? I can’t even complain to anyone
As they give me sympathetic words and promises of things getting better
Then, mocking me behind my back when they think I can’t see
Calling me weak and pathetic, among other things
But I can hear their words clear as day
Eventually, I gave up trying to seek help from anyone
I lost track of the times I asked for aid and got none
It became clear that they didn’t care, so why bother anymore?
It’s not like I care anymore
But a small part of me must want to give a damn
And finally get the help I desperately need
Because I’m requesting aid here and hoping it is heard
And maybe, just maybe, I can have my mess fixed
And finally, I can have that day of serenity
The jig is up
The game is thru
You’re not showing up
So I’m quitting, too
Why should I bother
W/ all this to do?
Bring me my jacket
‘Cause I’m quitting too
Somebody said, “Work ethic.”
Well what’s that mean?
My outlook may be pathetic,
But at least I ain’t replaced by no A-I machine
Why are you sweeping
And cleaning the flu?
I’m all washed up
And I’m quitting, too
In the white halls of wealth
Power clings to the few
I want all for myself
So I’m quitting, too
Somebody said, “work ethic”...
How we lasted this long,
I haven’t a clue
I resign to the throngs
Who are all quitting, too
No morale in the field
They’re staging a coup
Get ready, thine Princes
You’re all quitting, too