Long Perpetrators Poems

Long Perpetrators Poems. Below are the most popular long Perpetrators by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Perpetrators poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member High Tech Lynching

"HIGH TECH LYNCHING"

April 6, 2023, a dark and sad day in Tennessee history
Black men striped of their first amendment right to tell their story
The Declaration of Independence, states that "all men are created equal"
But the miscarriage of justice carried out in Nashville, quite illegal

Two young black Representatives expelled from the state house
Wrongfully discarded, unconstitutionally trashed, with many doubts
Simply because of the color of their skin
The perpetrators will never win

Black people in the south, still faced with remmnants of Jim Crow
They continuously want to constrain our voices, don't you know
Systemic racism is still alive and well
Brothers and Sisters open your eyes, because it's not that hard to tell 

The act of expulsion, was a planned strategy
Nothing more than a senseless tragedy
From start to finish, this was all about race
Just a blatant power grab to put two uppity blacks in their place

The nation mourns for the loss souls in the Nashville legislature
Blinded by the darkness of corruption, with a revengeful nature
They rammed down our throats, a historical, unprecedented expulsion
Two black men politically lynched, for a house, decorum rules intrusion 

Modern day slavery, still keeping us down
I am embarrassed to say that Memphis is my home town
Don't misconstrue, "Modern Day Slavery", as victimhood
We're not victims, just oppressed people, with our plight misunderstood

As black people, brought to this country on slave ships 
As we continue to be mistreated, we harken back to those trips
Why are we, refused and denied our deserved respect
Maybe because when we reflect, our opinions are honest and direct

Pulaski County Tennessee, birth home of the Klu Klux Klan 
To overcome southern disenfranchisement, voting is the plan
For us to neutralize that "Good Ole Boy" mentality
As a people, we must realize that it's more than a formality

For, far too long, we have been degraded and downtrodden
We refuse to be your foot stool any longer, we beg your pardon
Many people have lost their sense of civility
Engaging in bigotry and not taking responsibility

When some people present themselves as racists
Don't entertain the negative, just be an escapist 
When some in society dismiss an education
They are easily persuaded with misinformation
© Floyd Neal  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member This Will Pass

There is an inhuman and invisible enemy that must be stopped. The Coronavirus reminds me of one of the last great menaces to the world and to God. There once lived an evil man, threatening, deceitful, and manipulative. It was as if he rose from the dry ash heaps to the top of a fiery hill, which should not have been surprising because there is always a smoldering from the last fire.  Moreover, when he rose to power, with deadly force, he swept across a continent. He excelled through the power of FEAR and appeasement.               

As a dictator, he possessed and controlled the means of producing massive weapons with plans to unveil even greater weapons of mass destruction.                                                                                      
Prior to him, it appeared that the age of kingdoms and empires were over and a whole new world of republics was going to be the new norm. Unfortunately, this new dictator was intent on creating an entirely new world. For starters, he had evil intentions of wiping out an entire race of people, and but for the grace of God, he nearly succeeded.                                                                      

He was a master of manipulation and struck with the force of intimidation and terror, aligning himself with like-minded perpetrators of death and destruction. Like an epidemic, he sought hosts to attack and kill like the coronavirus. He was the deadly disease that became a pandemic nightmare as he defeated one country after another.                    

For a while, it seemed the world was frozen with FEAR and hypnotized by his spell of hate, and by the time the free world awakened and opposed him, 6 million Jews were murdered. He and his reign of terror ended as did others like him, as will all other enemies of God and civility. Most would agree that Hitler and the likes of him were indeed like a virus.                                                    

All would agree that FEAR is indeed torment, but the turning point begins when our FEARS are faced. In conclusion, those who governed and fought the human virus in the 40s became known as "The Greatest Generation".  They were thus because they prayed, faced their FEARS, resisted their enemy, and fought to the end. May this, our generation, do no less.
031920PoSp

Irony of Purpose

It is funny! 
Very funny how
A masked preacher can preach honesty; 
And even points at the wrongs with his
Fingers of hypocritical righteousness…

We stare with grim satisfaction
Because the black winged Angel 
Ridding a flaming chariot tells a tale; 
And proclaims that God is love, 
Yet he, himself is an Angel of death. 

Day after wretched day Humanity walks! 
He walks down the dark alley of freedom;
Freedom which shouts fairness; 
Fairness that begets confusion—
And he tries to bottle the spittle of birds…

Every night he lies in bed and tries to hear
The voice of fishes shouting gender and Sexualty in a world where the scale of
Equality is  unevenly proportional and
Equal rights mean the oppression of men. 

Apartheid, the history of Mzanzi is 
The present for the African world and
That has caused his inferiority complexes 
To suffice and personalize racism and 
One after another, generations play along. 

Lest we forget, 
The victims are just as guilty
As the perpetrators but at some point. 
Humanity weeps as he inspects 
His isle of hopelessness! 

But just like the majority, men; 
They cry in hiding. 
Where no-one sees, 
No-one hears and 
No-one dares speak for the black sheep! 

Deep down this egocentric radicalism, 
He orders rotten eggs to make an omelette
With which he feeds pirate justice, 
And he goes all year long 
On a running stomach. 

Although the words never sink, 
Humanity hearkens to 
The rumbling stomach of justice but 
When the rainbow of life turns 
Grey! 

Humanity's children cry day and night
While the Angel of death entrusted 
Their protection feasts on their tears
And dances to the beautiful sound 
Of their troubled voices. 

And when the wolf comes for their
Brazen souls we hail at the smiling lady
Who says 'I am virgin Mary'
With fangs behind her white vail
And poison under her tongue—death! 

The rich are poor but morally, 
Yet no-one sees
And no-one cares; 
They say 'each one for himself' 
Come shall the final hour do. 

It is funny! 
Very funny how
A masked preacher can preach honesty; 
And even points at the wrongs with his
Fingers of hypocritical righteousness…

Humanity looks on 
And passes his judgement. 
The masked preacher scoffs:
“No-one is perfect. 
No, not one!”
Form: Ode

This Is Africa

This is Africa.
Where people are being judge by their past,
And our hearts are painted with black.
Youths are cuddled up in early relationship,
And their lives are like the speed of an airship.
Parents are not respected anymore,
And advices are ignore from the sun's core.

This is  Africa.
Where corruption is the order of the day,
and embezzlement of public funds is like the ocean's wave.
Politicians believe in solipsism, 
and their avidity for power have made them vile organism.
Children are being raped and murdered in every corner of the street.
Education site has been a place of wealth seeking.

This is Africa.
Where we have been strangulated by high cost of living,
and those who suffocate us are offered thanksgiving.
Health sectors are poor,
 and illnesses on our continent are dressed up in strong armour.
Our rights are infringed by evil perpetrators,
and our hearts are broken by these penetrators.

This is Africa.
Where the less privilege are fed with grieves and pains,
And government officials are out there popping champagne.
Scholarships are given based on mutual affiliation,
And scholars are offered abnegation.
Jobs are being given base on political affiliation and party sentiment,
And those who are qualified are left with predicament.

This is Africa.
 Where people are being murdered for ritualistic purposes,
And the police are their accomplices.
People worship god that doesn't speak nor move,
and the real God has been disprove.
Politicians only come around as election time draw closer,
 and after election their family members are the ones on their roster.

This is Africa.
Where Politicians don't have time for the abnegated masses,
and we are referred to as asses.
Brutal men abandon their children for no reason,
and mothers are left in bleak season.
Single parents strive hard to send their kids to school
 And Those who speak the truth are rejected and considered fools.

This is Africa.
Where Politicians insult each other like kids, and citizens are left with dark moments they can't face.
Those who exploit our resources 
and give us hot flames are hail as King,
And we reject and curse those considered  our  kin.
Westerners feed us with arm to annihilate our own kind,
and envy is what we incline in our minds.

Stalwart Eldest Sister Amelie

Over saturation with 
welter weighted Yuletide
drenching world, web, wide
equal and/or greater
effort demands energy tide
to global warming,
lest apocalypse doth ride

high and mighty mandating,
inculcating, buoying... pride
toward planet Earth, the
apathetic, demonic, horrific,
plastic... malleable passive
can no longer run and hide.

Results elucidating, forthcoming, 
groundbreaking courtesy of 23andme
nsync with network of
newly discovered cache of relatives
which painstakingly diligent
(joint) effort helped

map our family tree,
though her ardent effort
completed many months past I re:
visit substantially detailed
information about our genealogy,
this time (December)

of every year prompts me
now with particularly increased clarity
to conjure, imagine dragons, 
order summon... glimpsing
mine Jewish ancestry,
yet nary handy

dandy blues clues,
not even one iota subsequently
qualifies yours truly to identify
with persecuted peoples be
leave me you, 
a sudden fiery conversion
to immerse myself with Judaism fee

bull, nonetheless chronology
to broaden knowledge
base shockingly woke
greater awareness (i.e. truncated limbs)
regarding Holocaust soak
king unrepentant perpetrators

with blood on their
hands doth provoke
sadness more aware about
Eastern European distant
cousins bore yoke
of anti-Semitism

spiritually, figuratively
incises, didst stoke
albeit time delayed
vicarious pain, no matter broke
ken spirits long since
turned to dust, whereby

former ignorance (mine) linkedin
with smattering generations
of yore besmoke
horrors indelibly stitched within genes
comprising every bone
and sinew (mine).

Said heightened awareness
noticeably pronounced sudden
agonizing psychosomatic sensation
that did further third eye blind,
hence painful to open these brown eyes
already afflicted with severe myopia lined
with so called "floaters" necessitating

custom made bifocals, where Ophthalmic
laboratory technicians (manufacturing
opticians, optical goods workers, or kind
optical mechanics) deftly grind
cut, edge, and finish lenses according
to instructions provided by dispensing
opticians, optometrists, or ophthalmologists.


The Furnace of Afflictions

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

Premium Member Stomping On Radicals

One does not stamp out radicalism
any more than one outspends capitalism
or fights successfully against militarism
or overpowers totalitarianism.

We might fade out radicalism,
co-invest capital in cooperative objectives for health,
discern together removing threats of mutually assured violence
and democratize polycultural empowerment
by inviting therapy through all natural-spiritual nondual valuables,
dynamics and animations
within Earth's ecosystemic
universally open spacetime network.

How does it help to invite healing
by calling profound mental unbalance
cowardice?
Why choose the epithet "coward"
to describe terrorizing violent behavior
intent
thoughts against those who intend no active harm
to radicalized perpetrators?

Perhaps this is cowardly behavior
but this is not the first
or most significant
word coming to my mind.

This speaks of fear and anger
and chronically invested misanthropic hatreds,
fueled by competing over-heated environments,
internal and external.

To speak cowardice
to paranoia and ego-distorted sickness
only adds fuel to flames
we would more therapeutically abate
by inviting cultures of deep learning integrity
profoundly sacred ecology
multiculturally and polypathically seen and known
and felt,
inviting mutual embrace of fears
and angers
and lingering learned distrusts.

Chronic stamping on each other,
over each other,
causes further radicalism.

Chronic over-investing in WinLose strategies
caused ravages of capitalism,
dimming richer denser potential
within cooperative ownership and investment
of both capital and equity,
deductive minds and inductive hearts.

Chronic climates of advanced industrial militarism
cause further defaults toward competing
by violent fighting and threat.

Chronic ecopolitical overpowering
of those who feel angry and scared,
left out and behind,
fearful and terrified by violence,
their own and others'
stamping and stomping,
invites further totalitarian plutocracies,
rather than profoundly radical
healthy cooperatives
of growing nutritional democracy
of and for and by and through fair integrity,
cooperative trusting liberty 
outshining rights of static freedom.

Qwerty Revolutionists

I'm a Facebook rebel
An Internet introvert
More like the Anonymous hackers
Masked cowards who can't stage a 
coup like our ancestors
And change the course of our social 
discourse

I condemn all forms of atrocities
And all retrogressive political 
mechanisms
By copy-pasting blogs and famous 
quotes on my wall-posts
So as to appear smart and 
revolutionary
No time to think independently 
anymore

I join Facebook Groups and Pages
That ridicule tribal alliances
And ICC list of shame
While in real life
I'm a coward who can't scream to 
stop a neighbour's house from 
being robbed
And 99% of my friends, customers, 
beer-buddies, roommates and 
colleagues are tribe-mates

We are QWERTY revolutionists
We don't have the guts to take to 
the streets
Or withstand tear gas canisters or 
live bullets
Or police whips like Wangari 
Maathai to protect the environment
We so are addicted to life
That no one wants to die for a cause 
like Robert Ouko or JM Kariuki
No one wants to look a camera in 
the eye and shame the devil of 
corruption and impunity and flee to 
exile like John Githongo
Or die in poverty and a whizzing 
chest of a whistle-blower like David 
Munyakei
Or instead of "LOL" "LMFAO", sit 
back and write books to change the 
tide of stereotypical approach to 
national issues
Write plays that will forever make us 
enemies of state like Ngugi wa 
Thiong'o
Or write real poems that will cause 
an up-rising like Leopold Senghor

No. 
We are social sites socialites
Wikipeadia scholars
Google researchers
Facebook book-worms
Twitter truth-twisters
"Type Amen" Christians
And keyboard revolutionists

We are a generation of quacks
Quirky QWERTY quacks
Who forget that real life is not on 
the web
That the perpetrators of national 
decadence and disintegration have 
no time for Facebook
They are in your backyard planting 
seeds of discord
Planning to distribute your useless 
vote
They are re-reading the 48 Laws of 
Power
While you are re-reading your last 
Post to see how many "Likes" you 
have
They are manipulating the statistics 
to instill fear
They are creating the problem so 
you can cry to them for the solution
© Myq Wudz  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Overcoming Cruelty of Hate

Awfully loathsome in its brutality
Hate's cruelty is evil in its entirety
As heart agonizes due to its torturous despicability
Belittling human dignity, affecting creation by its complexity...

With the attack of hate's cruelty
Unborn babes can't enjoy existence wondrous beauty
Abandoned kids face challenges in obscurity
Bullied adolescents suffer in their infirmity
Battered spouses weep silently in their afflictions' severity 
Discontented husbands and wives fight with pride's importunity
Victimized children wallow in separation anxiety
Struggling homes waver in their solidarity's stability
Wrecked marriages fall toward dysfunctional futility
Bitter family members escape from reality
Toward disillusionment, questioning their identity...

As hate's cruelty undermines kindness-sensitivity
Chaos and turmoil can be felt, devoid of unity
Echoing envy, contempt, panic, anger, oppression's intensity
Indeed, affecting progress and prosperity
Robbing people of joy, victory and peace around safety
While instilling fear, terror amidst insecurity 
Even animals are not exempted to experience barbarity
When their welfare is neglected midst uncaring community...

When unchecked, perpetrators of hate's cruelty
Continue with their aggression insanity
While victims in their martyrdom-superiority
Stay lamenting midst abuse-propensity...

Oh! I ask God for His mercy, grace and pity*
While my soul abides in His compassionate certainty
Assured that He enables me to overcome hate's cruelty
By His offered relationship I can trust throughout eternity
Which my very being can share with hope's serenity
Striving to spread genuine love that prevails along respect's tenacity.

*Titus 3:5 Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost.

Dramatic monologue in monorhyme
April 16, 2019
Edited on May 20, 2025
9th place, "The Cruelty of Hate and the Consequences of Hate" Poetry Writing Contest; Sponsored by Michael Fulkerson; judged on 5/23/2025

Satin Pillow Fever

it's kind of funny 
how time walks away
i don't feel like 
saying grace today
everything hurts 
much more then they say
tuesdays no longer 
remember your smile
scars are the souvenirs 
of the loneliest child
the memory itself 
writes you away

i don't wanna be here anymore
my hearts felt the dust
no i don't wanna be here anymore
sail on sooth sayer, sail

it's like sometimes you can't win
but then again i feel like 
i could never really fail
through the mirror 
i image an image pale
restricted for commerce
like a prostitute 
trying to make the proper sell
here we are behold unearthed
true to the soul, 
spirit, body and mind
it's kind of crazy
how you can capture more momentum
starting up from the bottom
being beaten and coming up 
from the land down under
may the perpetrators be kissed briefly
slaughtered later
love letters from a bastard 
to kind of a raped mother
grab the extinction cord
i already duck taped the other
the youngest of nine children
last man standing
out in the wonderland withering
see the ocean set apart from the sea
relax the your head darling 
and come hither

i don't wanna be here anymore
my hearts felt the dust
no i don't wanna be here anymore
sail on sooth sayer, sail

she said
i don't understand 
your goodbye
questions, 
all these questions
why, why, oh why
I told her i said,
every thing's rhetorical
despite you and I

stars burn
in the sleepless sky
as the candles dim
and night falls alive
between you and I
and it shines so bright
that i can't see a thing
but sometimes
i see it all

i've been used 
to losing touch
but i'm kind of wish 
too far gone
a shooting star
one miracle away 
from being
exactly who you are
the rain dabbles
in the face of the sun
and sometimes life
is all heat and no fun

but sometimes
you have to say goodbye
to where you're coming from
and kindly walk away
to a better day

and just like that
she went into the dark
she sang out, 
i got seizures to spark
and true life
it's some kind of bizarre
she put the needle in her arm
and sang out
never mind who you are
never mind who your are
I don't give a Fck who you are
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