Long Pimps Poems
Long Pimps Poems. Below are the most popular long Pimps by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pimps poems by poem length and keyword.
STAINS IN THE SANCTUARY ®
From the obnoxious obscenity
To the unorthodox immoralities
Personage of the perpetual Pentecostal pimps
Poisoned-Chalice in the mouth of a praying prostitute
Even the grey has not yet embraced self-control
Not too old for the renowned foolishness
Boys on the roll-call of Hades
Evade the tracks to your reserved seats
Searching for gadgets and toys rigorously,
Cruise choirs and programmes for ravishing beauties
Scavenging for pleasure instead of hunting for God
Scoop yourself from the hitlist of hell
Symptoms of residual sickening sins
Cling to the sleeves of church teens
We limit our emphasis on their actions
But forget to deal with desires behind the actions
As long as the patient peeps sat up
And maintain a positive confession
We cross over the realm lifting vain hands
But beneath the sheets patient is hemorrhaging,
Dying before our very own eyes
Dressed up in unblemished white linen
The church bleeds underneath
With sexual urge and high obsessions
Patient trapped in a vacuum
Just as much casualties of war as their buddies
Who died in the East Heracles,
War of immoralities rages
From the pews to the pulpits
Many Lazarus' raised but not loosed
While we raise and loose Judas'
Even from the altar of intercessions
Religion the painkiller ingested by the church
Only numbs the pain hiding the sickness cause
In need of deliverance is religion
On every soul to come loosed we will wait
Even on our knees with supplications, SOS
The greater the sore the more lengthy the recovery
But we will heal from the marrow
A projection from the outer body we'll witness
Because Christ cometh for a bride without blemish.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2016.
If leaders still led nations
The way they did in the past
Would there be so many wars
And how long would they last?
If the weasels now in power
Had to stand up at the front
To risk their own lives would
They be so ready to confront
I wonder
When did we allow cowards
To command from the rear
With very little chance of
Danger coming anywhere near.
Isn’t it time the soldier said
I’ll be there on the front line
So long as, Mr Politician you
Stand in the place next to mine.
I wonder
If the politicians were sent
Off To fight their own war
Would they be so keen to
Invade and fight anymore.
Or would they decide it was
Time for diplomacy instead
If there was a slight chance
They too could end up dead.
Leaders in the past
Fought their own cause
Leaders in the past
Fought their own wars
Not like those of nowadays ,
Maggots, pimps, moral whores
Who rake in the profits as they
Send others to fight their wars.
Squatting next to a garbage bin,
she dons a fake smile that doesn't fit.
And though track marks tattoo her skin,
her addiction won't let her quit.
Abused by pimps and those she serves,
each encounter has left its mark.
And a cheap dress hugs girly curves,
as she shivers there in the dark.
Forced into a life of disgrace,
she feels she hasn't a single friend.
And her hair hides her haggard face,
trapped in the land of let's pretend.
Whispering sly, suggestive words,
she advertises sex for sale.
And propositions jocks and nerds,
feeling frightened, hungry, and frail.
Lewd proposals, oft crude and stark,
are overheard above the din.
And she sells herself in the dark,
praying God understands her sin.
(Quatrain)
8/22/2015
My nights are worn in coats of filth and dreary
sometimes...the sound of thunder rumbles
far in the distance
where I use to live
kicked out of my home at fourteen
for reasons I can't wrap my head around
teenage defiance I guess
I live now on the corner of nowhere
at the intersection of ugly and dirty
where the hot city winds blow the scum of society
across fractured streets like crumbled candy paper
I'm numb to the cold emptiness
that haunts the pit of my stomach
no one cares
no one knows who I am or where I am
each night is a long journey through hell
I pull my collar up and await its storm
I've been bought and sold many times
and have become a soul-less street commodity
I live in the moment
tomorrow is foreign... it's only a dream
that stays on the outskirts of my nightmares
so I wander...trying to survive
the pimps, the robbers, the drugs, the utter loneliness
that color the gray world of my existence
I would cry...but, who would hear?
in the distance, I hear thunder rumbling
and the sound of my footsteps moving away from it
each step growing fainter
I've quit wondering if anyone was home
6/14/18 Abandon Poetry contest
sponsor...Brenda Chiri
GP
She ran away when
She was 13 years old
Nobody filed a
Missing person report
Got in with a driver
All the things that he did
Made her convict uncle
Look like a picnic
She thought someone
Would rescue her
She thought the world would care
But they just took advantage
Like they do everywhere
GP you’re a goddess
You’re an angel so fare
A beautiful flower
So delicate and rare
I’ve seen you blossom
After all you’ve be through
There’ll never be another girl
I love like you
She did an interview
When she was eighteen
A documentary
About runaway teens
Thought they agreed
Not to show her face
But she was exposed
To the whole human race
Pimps and police
Could find her now
So she tried to go
Hospital didn't tell her
What she didn't want to know
GP you’re a goddess
You’re an angel so fare
You are a flower
So delicate and rare
I’ve seen you blossom
After all you’ve been through
Never be another girl
I love like you
She now had a baby
Growing inside her womb
Last thing she wanted
Baby strung out too
She kicked cold turkey
She never looked back
Left the windy city
Sold a ton of land
She made her millions
Just couldn't make it stay
Hard to hold on when you
Keep running away
GP you’re a goddess
You’re an angel so fare
You are a flower
So delicate and rare
I’ve seen you blossom
After all you’ve been through
Never be another girl
I love like you
An airline attendant,
A cruise ship host,
Funeral director,
She doesn’t boast
Just try'n to live a life
Be happy somehow
Baby is all she has
All she needs for now
One day she'll find the one
Who's meant to be
Who understands everything
And sets her soul free
GP you’re a goddess
You’re an angel so fare
A beautiful flower
So delicate and rare
I’ve seen you blossom
After all you’ve been through
Never be another girl
I love like you
VERNON KING THE GREATEST PIMP FROM CHICAGO TO RAMSEY COUNTY MINNESOTA QHERE HE GAVE A STRING OF WOMEN WORKING THE STREETS BY DAY BUT BY NIGHT THEY WORK IN BANKS SWINDLING CUSTMERS EMBEZZLING FUNDS FOR MR KING THEY LANDED TO MY HOME STRANDED AFTER MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY HE NEEDED CASH HE ACTUALLY TOOK MY BANK CARDS MY PHOTOSFROM MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY CRUSHED EYE SOCKET TO FILE A FAKE CLAIM BECAUSE TWO GUYS BEAT HIM UP ON A BIKE HE HAD STRONGED ARM SOMEONE TAKEN THE BUY SO THEY GAVE HIM A BLACK EYE HIM BEING A PIMP A WOMAN BEATER ARRESTED SEVERAL TIMES FOR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE TERRORISTS THREATS GANG AFFILIATIONS HES ACTUALLY ON THE CHICAGO LIST FOR DANGEROUS GANGSTER DISCIPLES PIMPS AFTER HE TOOK MY PHOTO HE FLED TO GEORGIA I GOT A CALL FRAUD ON MY ACCOUNT VERNON AND HIS 4 HOOKERS COMMITED FRAUD EMBEZZLING FUNDS FROM ME SO THE BANK HELPED VERNON KING FLED BACK TO THE MIDWEST AWAITING A TIME TO GET MORE FUNDS FROM MY BRAIN INJURY WHEN HE FOUND OUT HE COULDN'T SWINDLE ME HIS OWN LITTLE COUSIN ON HER DEATH BED HE THEN TOOK MY PHOTO MY FACED CRUSHED TO MORGAN AND MORGAN AND ACTUALLY GOT A FAKE SETTLEMENT BUY EXPLOITING MY INJURIES WHAT COULD I DO I GOT TO ADMIT THAT WAS A GREAT SCAM HOWEVER IT WASN'T ME HE SWINDLED IT WAS MORGAN AND MORGAN THE INSURANCE COMPANIES LOSS FAKE SETTLEMENT MY PHOTOS MY XRAYS LAYING ON MY TABLE I TRUSTED HIM BUT HE WAS A PIMP WHO BEAT THE SHT OUT OF WOMEN HE EVEN TOOK OFF HIS BELT BEAT THIS WOMAN SENSEELESS IN FROMT OF MY KIDS THEE ABSOLUTE MOST HORRID THING AFTER HE BEAT HER DHE OBEYED HIM LIKE A DOG KISSING HIS FEET EMBEZZLING FROM HER JOB IN THE BAMK IN MINNESOTA AT ANYRATE PIMPING AINT EASY AFTERWARDS HE WAS ARRESTED AGAIN HE FLED TO MINNESOTA TO IDAHO DRAINING HIS GRANDSON AND HIS WIFE BANK I DON'T LOOK BACK AND I DOWN FEAR TERRORISTS THREATS FROM PIMPS PUSHERS HOOKERS EMBEZZLING BANK ACROSS AMERICA HE REALLY IS THE GREATEST AMERICAN PIMP GANGSTER DISCIPLES LEADER IN AMERICA
CIAO BELLA
NOVELTIES
by Thomas Campion
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Booksellers laud authors for novel editions
as pimps praise their whores for exotic positions.
This is my translation of a Latin epigram by the English poet Thomas Campion. In Campion’s era some English poets continued to write poems in Latin and/or Greek. For instance, John Milton and Andrew Marvell wrote poems in Latin, while Shakespeare was criticized by Ben Jonson, if I remember things correctly, for having “little” Greek and Latin.
Not being “versed” in the senior languages was seen as a deficiency in literary circles back then. Shakespeare was called an “upstart crow” for daring to write “litter-chure” without a proper university degree. How could he properly quote the ancients if he couldn’t read them in their original languages? The Bard of Avon was doomed to failure and obscurity … or perhaps not, since the English language was finally in vogue in England (where for centuries English kings had been unable to read, write or even speak the mother tongue, preferring French, Latin and Greek).
My title is a bit of a pun, because novels were new to the world when they first arrived, and were thus considered by the literary elites to be “novelties” not on par with more serious verse plays. Some of the more popular early novels were “subversive” (pardon the pun) explorations of sexual naughtiness, through characters like Tom Jones, Moll Flanders, et al.
Campion probably didn’t have such campy (enough with the puns, already!) novels in mind when he wrote his epigram, since the more titillating (cease! desist!) ones had yet to arrive. But perhaps he would prove to be a “profit” (I’m udderly hopeless!).
Keywords/Tags: Campion, Latin, translation, exotic, exoticism, epigram, novels, novelties, book, books, booksellers, publishers, write, writing, author, authors, poet, poets, poetry, poems, pimps, whores, prostitutes, prostitution, exotic, positions, extended metaphor
Let me rap to you about where I'm from.
Sidewalks are broken, weeds grow through the cracks.
The people that use them are like the sidewalks,
broken and bummed out.
They have handles like Turkey, Louie the Bum, Sand man.
No one's hip to their real names.
They all think they're righteous.
Me, they call me Kid, so don't be freaking out,
no one cares, it is what it is.
All we care about is the hustle.
The next minute, then the minute after.
So it goes.
This, is my school, I'm hip to it.
In these alleys, on these sidewalks,
where no one can tell if the garbage man came,
where rainbows are neon, books are painted words,
scrawled on concrete walls.
It's where you can get sliced for a joint,
and die for seeing what you shouldn't.
It's cool, don't sweat it.
It's another realm man, so don't flip your wig.
No manicured grass here, only advertisements for whiskey.
Are you hip to it, what I'm laying down.
Listen up my brother, cause I'll be bookin.
In this place, pain is a commodity,
sold by dealers and pimps.
Can you dig it.
I gotta split man, before the fuzz comes.
So hang loose, I gotta drop a dime,
to my connection.
Maybe I'll catch you on the flip side.
1960's slang
contest..Talk the Talk and Walk the Walk
"Blue Silks"
Love let it slide
chicanery unchained
truth always finds a way
blue silks
pinned to a wall
swapping hate
for love writes
appalled
footprints like tears
spill across empty pages
in unforgiving ribbons
like blackbirds singing
in the dead of dark night
flying to be free
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Loretta Young Silks” / Sneaker Pimps
https://youtu.be/0ZsXYytmiVs
“Loretta Young Silks” / Sneaker Pimps (in French)
https://youtu.be/OaJ1zFJIMEA
"Blackbird singing
in the dead of night
Take these broken wings
and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting
for this moment to arise
Blackbird singing
in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes
and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting
for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly,
Into the light of a dark black night"
LYRICS/ “Loretta Young Silks”, Sneaker Pimps
https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/85222/
FULL ALBUM, “Blood Sport”/ Sneaker Pimps, 2002
https://youtu.be/bWFk_ct_JLU
LYRICS/ "Blackbird", The Beatles
https://genius.com/The-beatles-blackbird-lyrics
"Blackbird" (Remastered 2009)
https://youtu.be/Man4Xw8Xypo
Which fish
The scuba diver
Is going after?
The big one
Or the small one?
Which sheriff
Is on trial today?
The petty one
Or the pretty one?
Everyone must have its day
In the Kangaroo Court.
Real justice is not a myth;
It never creates descent or grief.
It a fact that it is easier to execute
The innocent resident
Than to prosecute
The corrupt superintendent.
All thieves must be handcuffed.
A trial can be long or short,
Depending on the main actor.
It is mind-boggling, it is tough
To understand the demeanor
Of this odious prosecutor.
The mass-murderer is on the loose,
Sipping wine and walking like a moose,
While the unarmed homeless is shot to death,
For littering, for selling meth.
Is this justice? Is that right?
The real pacifists must always fight.
Thank God, the true democrats
Will never stop chasing the bad cats,
The fat mice and the aggressive rats.
The evidence is palpable and the facts
Remain overwhelming.
Which thief
Will be prosecuted?
Which big fish
Will be convicted,
In this Kangaroo Court?
The public despises something short,
However, a simple and fair trial is acceptable.
We are all liable and responsible.
All crooks must be prosecuted fairly,
And justly to the fullest extent of the laws.
Justice must go after the cats with the long paws
First, because it is obviously
Easier to go after the small pimps.
Bring the flashlights and the giant lamps,
So we all can see better, and clearer.
The sun and the moon are on strike today.
Look, the criminals and the guards are at play.
All conscientious citizens are in great danger.
Which fish
The scuba diver
Is going after?
Which thief?
Which sheriff?
Which chief
Is on trial today?
Which one is walking away?
Which one is enjoying a great day?
Copyright © September 13, 2014, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.