Long Perpetrated Poems
Long Perpetrated Poems. Below are the most popular long Perpetrated by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Perpetrated poems by poem length and keyword.
Eminem Protege 2
Don't care what you think
I need Ten Shrinks an Ten Pens Full Of Ink
To Let my Inner Wisdom Tink
Colder Than Ten Penguins In A Rink
My Spirit Fitness & Physique at it's Peak
Adrenaline Obese
Extinguished to Concrete
Out the Pyramids Extinct
Into this Physical Dimension as A Sphinx
Face of a Beast of a Lynx
Idiot Beliefs placing limited reach
on my limitless fatigue
My Old Image Obsolete
I stole Potion from Ten Witches An Ten Wishes
from Ten Genies an Ancient Magicians
an Buried the lamps in the Ditches
while I summoned Ten Fighting Spirits
of Venegance as My Apprentices
I Opened my Sealed Syllabus
to Reveal my Ventriloquists
Just left Hells Kitchen with Skin Itching
with Skin Blisters open Skin Pigments
Stealing Lucifers Instruments
to Use them Against Him
To appear as Glitches
against the System
I cook Hot Meals with Mittens
an make him taste the Illness
I'm Inventing
But only an Sample for Interest
for His Taste Senses
cause Hells angels can Sensor the Sizzling
I'm Fly like Ten Twin Pigeons
with Eagles Precision
I'm a Scientist but I ain't writing Science Fiction
with Knowledge that would leave Einstein Winded
I been Fighting for Living
100 percent Percentage
an no less than a Percent difference
Still Power in my Engine
to keep the Ignition Driven
You can't Compare to these Rare Characteristics
the Judgements from your Conscious
is InTolerant to my Unresponsive
Mental Doctrines
Im use to Antagonist
Real Hebrew who's a Zionist
False Prophets who Diabolic an Jewish
Judaism Created with Iron Fist
in A Luciferian Science
of Enlightenment
Jewish Hybrids Of Pirates
Stolen Israels Environment
I ain't Racist
Just apart of a Nation
Created
Created Generations to Generations
Heritage Invaded
an Culture Undertaken
Perpetrated
by The Synagogue of Satanist
my fire been Penetrated
the fire in the eye of the Tiger formulated
stripes on the tiger Blazing
I'm Judahs Inspiration
an Judas Envy Craving
But I'm not Babylons Patriot
Bablyonion Doom Waiting
Doomsday
when the Moon Change
The Wolf Rage
Waging Spiritual Shade
against Ravenous Wolves in Sheeps Wools
is Game
Sharpened Tools
my Sword is Shaped
Cut open the Wolves
an Bathe in the Pool
of Blood til It's Drained
I'm a Prophet in the Apocalypse
It started when I was a child
I was a kid with a gift
That no one understood or recognized
Instead of loved I was picked on and ostracized
However I blocked it all out
But little by Little its all coming back
Like layers of an onion
That held me tightly wrapped
Bits and pieces of my memory
That were hidden away in code
Deep within my mind a door was closed
I?ve reached in to remember because my life is now in jeopardy
All the emotional and sexual abuse that I closed off to survive
Has been staring at me sabotaging my life
This life is not what I have dreamed and I am dying inside
And if I don?t face the truth of what was done to me
Then I will surely become the monster that I despise
And as the tears bellow up
I again take another breath
Like soot in a fireplace and a hair ball in a cat
I cough up the toxic memories
As images flash through my mind
With my face in the toilet I begin to cry
My body begins to stiffen as nausea rises to the top
I then begin to wail from deep in my chest
It?s a hideous cry that sends chills down my spine
As I grit my teeth and hang on for dear life
A thought runs through my mind why.. why.. why.. why.
I?m tired of the black outs
I?m tired of the fear
I?m tired of the loneliness that have held me prisoner here
I?m tired of the pain and suffering that has come in my parents name
I?m tired of all the trauma and I?m tired of all the drama
I?m tired of the neglect that?s been perpetrated on my soul
Keep your hands off of me, keep your beliefs away from me
From all the mental abuse and all the negative remarks
And you still don?t see how you?ve damaged my sensitive heart
I?m tired of hearing all the denial
I?m tired of hearing how there is nothing wrong with you
I?m tired of you blaming everyone else but you
I?m tired of hearing how you hate this and you hate that
I?ve tried for years to heal this wound
But it seems to have spread to my nephew too
I don?t know what else to do
I even ruined my only serious relationship to get revenge
In my mind I justified their crime
From all the bad advice and all the dysfunctional decisions
And I thought I was reversing everything
When I vowed never to get married and have kids
But that sabotaging act has done me more damage
Bully me you, I exemplified archetypal scapegoat
Even as old (dish) married
(spooning) curmudgeon,
who receives social security disability
linkedin with social anxiety)
chose the fork less traveled
aye pucker with sunken cheeks,
(especially without dentures)
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber
(think unclogging toilet)
please support your local bummer
back in the day one
long haired pencil neck geeks palled
around with another
hirsute nerd - Roger Kummerer,
(who both of us graduated Methacton
High School class of 1977),
and yours truly readily
admitting, alluding, and attesting
without shadow of doubt
representing the dumber
than rocks of said beastie boys
bandits, donning particolored pachyderm
gabardine garb getup trumpeting,
especially as Mummer
on each New Year's Day
with bare ass tuchus
excellently imitating courtesy said orifice
(as chief motormouth) sound
of combo motorboat hummer.
Ah... the joys of amazingly aging gracefully
happily recalling never being
beat into bloody pulp dully
imagining dimming sense and sensibility
before (appearing gratefully dead)
lifeless body dumped into gully
nonetheless all the while fully
maintaining conscious, and forcefully
summoning forth latent powers gleefully
choking living daylights masterfully
delivering just desserts upon Tom Viglione,
whose plaintive laments truthfully
resonate as blessed music
to ears unaccustomed hearing pitifully
sounding long overdue comeuppance
forever disbelieving wrongfully
perpetrated injustice
witnessed impossible mission
fueling an ordinarily meek lad
only in his dreams, he envisions zestfully.
Pugnacious thuggish hooligans... although
decades long since elapsed, whereby hoodlums
jockeyed to rain one after another verbal blow
threatening introverted diminutive boy
who, no surprise did eventually,
albeit (stuntedly) grow
(as an aside resembled anorexic
Santa Claus ho... ho... ho...)
still wracked, impacted, affected...,
this punster, he haint Joe
King, but upholds valuable humor less or mo'
feebly, lamely, and quirkily aspires toward po'
whit tree linkedin with infusing,
(no matter ex post facto)
freeing mine unsung hero.
If ever I had to have a country victim of pedophily : LXXXVI
[Note: 216,000 cases of pedophily, perpetrated by the clergy, have been recorded by the Catholic Church in France since 1950.]
If ever I had to have a country, would that it be a country where no infant boy or lad need ever fear of being the victim of pedophily
Let it also be a country that sent no Albuquerque or Vasco de Gama, Drake or Raleigh, Cortes nor Dupleix to undermine the « street arabs » and « orphaned » heathens under seal of the Papal authority
For, remember how I was persuaded to assume the rôle of Ministre d’État Plenipotenciary without Portfolio or Duty, the Saviour of down-trodden Womenkind (O, « A Daniel come to Judgement ! »),
for I’d turn Torquemeda, revive the Inquisition, the Ace of Papacy
Will I let fresh-cheeked choir boys nor novice sacristans in strict page-boy linen, candle or Cross in hand lisping psalms disappear in the dense stench-filled folds of priestly « soutanes » behind pillars under Roman arches or polished teak encrusted encasements their stifled cries for help choked through holy promiscuity
Nor will I let Henry the VIIIth behead his wives in the Tower for failing to provide him with a male heir nor let no Archbishop lie bleeding at the Cathedral at Canterbury nor no politicking murder
stain some Florentian cathedral to foist the House of Medeci
You guessed right alright, I’ll take over the Tower of London as my foremost torture dungeon, call out the Swiss helmeted Guards with their spears and while I keep puffing at the Havana cigars (a chest-full gift from Fidel Castro, in grateful acknowledgement of inestimable services rendered to soft-ball gals in shedding excess weight on the ground) and keep crying out « Habemus » Pope to drown out the squeals yells and screams issuing from pedophiles pierced by Swiss lances in the rears of millions of priests found guilty
You bet that’s what I’ll do even if the entire Order of the Malte forgot about the Crusades against the Turks and Saracens - and poor one-armed Cervantes – during the Battle of Lepanto just to crucify me
And so what even if I never ever had no country with orphaned infants and laddies to pity
© T. Wignesan, Paris – Octobre 14, 2021
CORONA VIRUS (COV-19)
The Black Death, or bubonic plague, which happened nearly 700 years ago, (in the three year period of 1347 to 1351 in which it lasted) took the lives of an estimated 75 to 200 million people. It stayed dormant for 300 years. It then reared its ugly head in Spain and London. The plague is certainly a devastating entity to be reckoned with. The attack by terrorists on 9/11 was a dastardly deed perpetrated by cowards and the death toll was horrendous but by comparison, the Black Death is by far the worse catastrophe ever witnessed by mankind. In Biblical History, leprosy was the most dreaded disease which maimed and killed many. But rest assured there are days coming that all the combined plagues of history can compare. In the Book of Matthew 24:6-13 it reads: "And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise up against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of sorrows. Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and kill you, and you will be hated by all nations for My name's sake. And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another." There is already great evidence of this taking place in government today and all around the world. You may ask the question, "What does this have to do with the Corona Virus (COV-19)? The Corona Virus can be controlled. The chaos and devastation of Armageddon cannot be stopped or brought under control. Therefore, it is an undisputed fact that the world will experience a catastrophe far greater than anything that has ever taken place. Matthew 6:33-34 reads: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."
Friday, 13 March 2020
Curtis Moorman
For the Corona Virus (COV-19) contest
In the court of public opinion
I am just an average minion
I've seen so much abuse
Quite tempting to be a recluse
Among our political division
Red, White and Blue is receding
perpetual sarcastic incisions
promoting further divisions
I understand the stakes
and the great restraint it takes
just don't let your call to action
encourage further infraction
Peaceful protest is our right
Destruction of property
Only adds to blight
multiplying citizens fright
Of all the wars perpetrated
brother against brother
at all costs, should be abated
when that hate is germinated
You become your enemy
regurgitated
I understand the stakes
and the great restraint it takes
just don't let your call to action
encourage further infraction
RED WHITE AND BLUE
We Love You
125wd
Bully me you, I exemplified archetypal scapegoat
Even as old curmudgeon, aye pucker
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber
(think unclogging toilet)
please support your local bummer
back in the day one
long haired pencil neck geeks palled
around with another
hirsute nerd - Roger Kummerer,
(who both of us graduated Methacton
High School class of 1977),
and yours truly readily
admitting, alluding, and attesting
without shadow of doubt
representing the dumber
than rocks of said beastie boys
bandits, donning particolored pachyderm
gabardine garb getup trumpeting,
especially as Mummer
on each New Year's Day
with bare ass tuchus
excellently imitating courtesy said orifice
(as chief motormouth) sound
of combo motorboat hummer.
Ah... the joys of amazingly aging gracefully
happily recalling never being beat into pulp dully
imagining dimming sense and sensibility
before (appearing gratefully dead)
lifeless body dumped into gully
nonetheless all the while fully
maintaining conscious, and forcefully
summoning forth latent powers gleefully
choking living daylights masterfully
delivering just desserts upon Tom Viglione,
whose plaintive laments truthfully
resonate as blessed music
to ears unaccustomed hearing pitifully
sounding long overdue comeuppance
forever disbelieving wrongfully
perpetrated injustice witnessed impossible mission
fueling an ordinarily meek lad
only in his dreams, he envisions zestfully.
Pugnacious thuggish hooligans... although
decades long since elapsed, whereby hoodlums
jockeyed to rain one after another verbal blow
threatening introverted diminutive boy
who, no surprise did eventually,
albeit (stuntedly) grow
(as an aside resembled anorexic
Santa Claus ho... ho... ho...)
still wracked, impacted, affected...,
this punster, he haint Joe
King, but upholds valuable humor less or mo'
feebly, lamely, and quirkily aspires toward po'
whit tree linkedin with infusing,
(no matter ex post facto)
freeing mine unsung hero.
Building castles in the air,
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
You were the brightest stars in your own skies
In empty space you built your dreams
Behind computer screens
You rode in long expensive cars
Drank in all the trendy bars
As all the while you lied and bet
Against the ones who'd hoped to get
A piece of our communal pie;
They bought your homes and you bought the lie.
It was all an inside job
Pulled by a faceless mob
Of bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
It was all an inside job
By a thoughtless, greedy mob
Of men who rob the poor to sleep on silk.
Smoking candles, fallen flowers
Foreclosed homes and broken hours -
This is the aftermath of what you've done,
Games ill played, once begun.
The rich get richer
Though they've painted us the picture
Of what happens when you set the weasels free.
They've no concern for you or care for me
Or the discrepancies we see;
Should be enough for us that they should always be.
No ones' punished, no one pays,
They remain complacent in their ways.
It was all an inside job
Staged by an untouched mob
Of bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
It was an inside job
Perpetrated by the mob
Of men who rob the poor and sleep on silk.
So now this evil season
Has descended without reason
As the sheep will stand and wait
To receive their unearned fate.
I hope you're proud, you sleep at night
While masses live by candlelight
May your riches find you lone and cold
When you find yourself frail and old
When no one mourns your passing days
When none thought loyal will ever stay
To watch with you all through the coming gloom
That pushes you, alone, into your tomb.
Castle building in the air
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
The brightest stars will dim away
Replaced by others, other days.
So it goes, the inside job
Brought off by the black suited mob
The bankers, lawyers and their ilk.
The framers of the inside job
That heartless, faithless, grasping mob
Will one day drown, beneath a sea of silk.
No Matter Papa Repents...
Every blasted acrimonious misdeed
aye indelibly perpetrated
affecting ye and the Punim for life
hounds me doggone soul night and day
venomous wrath torments, strangles, racks...
every bone in mine entire body
suicidal ideations haunt every
waking and sleeping hour,
perhaps previous attempts to communicate,
(albeit poetically - for no rhyme nor reason)
fell short, asper yours truly
to claim accountability, culpability, responsibility...
unwittingly subjecting thee, a prized progeny
with legacy, where
diabolical, emotional, psychological... trauma
compromised your care free growing up years
namely while residing at 1148 Greentree Lane
exacerbated by mine self absorption
countless hours misspent
whiling away precious time
mesmerized more so
with computer technology,
versus prioritizing fleeting moments
with "mother" and/or offspring
yes..he now pays heavy price
pursuing amorous liaisons
gallivanting, flirting, emailing...
impacting (obliviousness
pitifully lame retort unacceptable)
feigning much ado about nothing
snappishly barking anger
such vitriol (mine)
sabotaged once in
lifetime golden opportunity
to foster, kindle pinterest
with spouse and daughters
subsequently deepening rift
rivalling Mariana Trench
love's labour's lost forever
frittering away compounded
half heartedly seeking employment
even though - NO LIE
inexplicable debilitating anxiety
buzzfeeding panic attacks
plaguing my psyche
since...birth, incapacitating
maximizing potential abilities
playing havoc pledging troth
with counterpart exhibiting
mental health challenges
unfairly begetting deux darling lasses
thee bearing brunt of pennilessness,
at aforementioned residence
unlivable, horribly untidy,
toxic with mold, cluttered...
such offal sight, sounds of screaming,
(when Shana nonverbal), stench...
now suffer (PLEASE BELIEVE)
suicidal ideation plagues my conscience
pointed objects quite inviting
remembrance of things past,
a worse fate than death!
PLEASE FORGIVE DADA...?
The kids are playing in the park
It's late afternoon, but not yet dark
Time for one last game of hide and seek
"Everybody hide and nobody peek".
One little girl stops on the grass to tie her shoe
She has to hurry before they find her to
Suddenly a shadow falls over her
She looks up to find a strangers face
"Hello little girl", the man says with a grin
"Would you like me to help you win"?
"I'm not allowed to talk to strangers Mommy says"
He reaches out and takes her hand
"Well ", he says "My name is Sam"
Now that we have met, your Mommy wouldn't object
"I guess your right", she says with a smile on her face
And she lets him guide her to a hiding place
Within an hour, everyone is searching the park
She hasn't come home and now it's dark
They search and search, but to no avail
Her Mother is frightened and very pale
The police arrive and comb the woods
A short distance in,
The search dog Buddy
Makes a very grizzly discovery
They find her lying on the ground
Her tiny body bent and bound
Her panties down around her knees
The horrific scene covered in leaves
Her Mom sees the ambulance by the woods
She arrives in time to see her beloved daughter
Being carried in a black bag thru the trees
The shock and pain bring her to her knees
Her tears rage, "Oh My God, how can this be,
It was only a game, who whould want to hurt my child?"
She shakes her head, her eyes gone wild
"Dear God, please no, don't let this be, please, please,
bring her back to me"!
A few days later in a little church graveyard
She buries her only child
Her anger burns deep within
For the person who perpetrated this sin
She prays to the Lord for justice to prevail
As the casket is lowered to the ground
She prays that he will soon be found
Across town on that very day
The children are playing in the park
It's late afternoon, but not yet dark
A man approaches another one and extends his hand
"Hello", he says "My name is Sam"!