Long Placebo Poems
Long Placebo Poems. Below are the most popular long Placebo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Placebo poems by poem length and keyword.
Holy is the Lamb?
Live sacrifice
stained lamb upon bloods altar.
What is gained by such disdain
for the life blood of youths longing?
What “god” demand his worship
in the hungry mouths of children,
the fear of retributions wrath?
Why the symbol of the lamb?
Soft, helpless, innocent yet
terrified in its ignorance.
Is this but a poor metaphor
for mercy, a clandestine attempt
to herd the masses into submission?
What sanctifies the lamb, cleanses it,
making it worthy to be offered
as a palliative placebo,
to appease the fears of
the worshiping minions?
What lamb, masked by the
menace of its masters, could
satisfy the needs of their “god”?
What lamb,
chosen lest they take a child,
would not go willingly.
What lamb
sanctified by the love of those
who hold no rancor for,
nor fear of, their god
would not be made Holy?
Raised up as a symbol of
the greater love,
the purer spirit,
the innocence
of Holiness.
John G. Lawless
10/4/2014
not submitted to the contest because it
wouldn't fit through the hoop.
Azura de'palls the grid,
surveyor on placebo crystal pillar lampstand,
mid eyeing treeline,
at curmudgeon sky.
Angels filter embrionic ether sift of gland,
at will beyond reason why as song impends.
Joy expands to fill empty vessel,
like a potters clay, wheel spin off of love.
To make it rise in sentience and have
witness of the day, cogs to move
like Fury's and Valkyries blessing the Sun.
Something of its own, has self bestowed,
but not on it's own but with witnessed promise Elysian Ode.
It is granted from the fertile soil turned by the long suffering toil, cascading from eyes to ears,
in water,-shed fountain beyond the years.
An urging of his mistress, poetess.
She is his elixir of siren
and beauty in his Chyrened espouse.
Gowned at the orphanage of foundry.
Engaged at the gaze of our Father in vowed.
Love, she is his muse, fountain of holiness,
his empress to empower.
She makes ready for the wedding the courtship
and bridal shower.
She is his bride,
and He shall not forsake her for another,
Protectinme.
You are radiant.
You will be given away by the Holy Spirit.
But kept, instill as inSister,
Mothered within His power through Mary,
who is God's Mother.
Love is in the Temple, Tower.
You’ve got urban fake thugs
selling certain fake drugs
mixed and corrupt
taking money from mugs
mix it with a prescription
sold as a false description
but it's just the way of the system
blind addiction
it’s like every drunken human
a sucker for consuming
a buzz
one drug will grip us
smoke on the lips
legal like coffee
to speed ecstasy trips
no one escapes free
and
you haven’t got any money
but
you’ve got some to be a druggy
and
everybody’s happy til it wears off
when feet start stamping
and
arms flap and floff
everyone gets angry
bound to fallout
when pissy little problems
dealt with in shout
it’s a stress and a strain to stop and think
to tense and tight so you neck a drink
but
it’s another buzz that will soon wear off
another addiction with a seismic cost
so
it’s never ending but everything
and
it leaves you lost with losses
but
still you believe you’ve got this
though you never experience true profits
and
it's all a placebo cus urban fake thugs
add in pharmacy drugs
the addiction's
a thing of fiction
so the situation's a mind trick
those drugs are 10 percent addictive
but buzz you tired, grouchy near sick
and you think it's the comedown
just a consequence inflict
til you come around
and feel fine so feed the mind addiction
physically stretched and pulled down
but the mind's nice and content now
the lifestyle got you, not for a while,
for life
A humanity Slain by a black ghost flame
Because their God was an unspeakable name
A Mournful, Insane, multitude with emnity and self induced labor pains
An Eon that has never awoken - A Copt of Souls- skin of the seas soaken-
in the foamy afterbirth of aftermaths toil, in spoil
by the Unspoken strains
Alone without a soul, or meaningful, rich soils of cultivation, to be grafted in,
birthing anew, and not staying long enough to become unattended, mud from the rain and eroded by sins,
splitting image is a sea splashing your brain
i see all that you do, your stratas of civilizations
Unveiling me of the Mystery of the Unseen, in indignant stagnation
but mildew of what once was a nation
fingertips form fitting on the sill of the stranded looking after loves
dead bug
Dust dried, shriveled and Unspoken for encapsulated in your dung
The Unfitting glove, trying us on for size, tongue in cheek,
begrudging the nudge off the cliff closer
Eons are all too slow for you to fully comprehend its reign
As you grow further in age,
The light of the star
Beside you, fades, phase shifts as darkmatter
and becomes blacker still like soot on the page
Turn you cron-icon along its path
As the dark of the age "Comicon of the lost"
Engaging, you, along its malevolence you are its Priestess, caught
giving burnt offerings of garbage you made special issuance not
all your glimpses, a mirrors tear, somewhere in Time's, Lots
snapped on the dancing diadem dragons lair plot, Dune sand trap, left
"sleeping "in the rough" at the Gates Of Aurizen, a Phoenix Unrisen,
to the Denizens, of the left
Layers of nothingness-spinning placebo, cursing the dark side of our moons
And only silence in raft upon the voided rift
The Unspoken, unspoken,Apathy, ingratitude TheM Ulktra Violence
Them, Humans once lived
As the sands of time
challenge love's reality,
it slips through your fingers.
Although Hope still conjures a smile,
recalling those magic moments
you've stored within your heart.
Love cannot bloom in yesterday's shadow;
shaded from tomorrow's dawning light.
And your heart grows numb
to the constant sting of lies
as you fall into depression's abyss:
struggling with emotions
of shame and self-worth.
With the bonds of trust severed:
you offer your wounded heart a placebo,
seeking solace within the world of dreams.
But fractured feelings haunt the graves of memories:
with both the sweet ecstasy of love
and the bitter dregs of betrayal.
Are you an explosion
A giant big bang
Or can you just speak life with your words
Were you on those pages
In the heralds of prophets
Or are you just a rumor I heard
Are you evolution
Does it prove you're a myth
Could mankind have started with two
Is there really a devil
And angels uncounted
Or are they just a story like you
Do you hear me call out
When I'm sad or afraid
Are you watching with love
Are you crying
Or are you just a wish
That will never come true
From a man who just can't cope with dying
Are you a placebo
For the people of Earth
Who need to live life with assurance
Are you given to people
Who can't face the fact
That we're just a random occurence
Are you're promises myths
Are they carrots on sticks
Is it true there is life everlasting
Can we really be smitten
For not believing what's written
When we in our true hearts were asking
I don't mean to be saying
Come down from that cross
But my doubts, they are growing like cancer
Come out of that book
Come down from the sky
I feel like you owe me an answer
By Kyle Ezra Kriticos
Just?
look, at YOU now, self righteous, you know YOUR rites best.
You have much to celebrate.
Celebrate diversity, the joy of
sex in the city.
Make it,
YOU, at your behest,
the center of your Universe.
Where only a black hole resides, and your own worst enemy?
Hyde's.
It's not lonely there.
There's
YOU!
That's all right dearest.
Party like it's 2 0 1 9.
After all, everything you have and are is because of being free and solitary.
To thine own self be true!
A self propogating gene of Genie
Is only rubbed out when it's convenient for YOU.
Live like a con-gypsy
under Gaias loving gaze of nativity.
As you sweep the wind beneath your wings and batten down the sails,
a treasure hunting pirate on life's seven seas'swells.
Through the river Styx,
Flotsam, Jetsam
mental living, Hell?
Some things are meant to be.
Like milk and honey.
But not according to "do what thou will"
It is a suicide into lonely.
Drunkenness into endless sleep.
Although, they call the new aged Kool Aid,
harmless wine.
I see,
that it matches fine;
with neurosis,
scerosis of inclusion,
invader intrusion, plucked from narcissistic vines. Tended by demon.
From the Forest of delusion.
Pairs well with the thorns of Night.
Take a sip of that self hypnosis.
Does it go down smooth? Or does it have a kick?
Then kick your **** on down the line.
Off your booth, in Life.
Ritually drunk and now, suddenly divine at your own behest.
A little bit of courage, right?
Something to take the edge off,
the edge of night?
Regret.
Sugar on the brain that foments its fermentation over time.
Is it Godless or Goddess ambrosia?
A poultice tea for the sick?
A placebo innoculation against lack of faith?
Selfishness in self paranoia,
Just for your sake.
A dark principality and clever mind-
Vampirism-Medicating prophylactively against
the stake, like an aneurism.
Those pesky ghosts of darkness.
In the blood.
Possess your sconces, wick and flame, dead.
Seek to destroy, the lightbringing.
Your senses dampened,
fuse blown
guard down.
Darkness.
Integrity bled.
On the Rampage.
Rampant.
Their Entrance.
Gained instead.
She finished her writing, she thought
She loved to write... and write..and write.
She loved to greet the poem, lovingly
"Poésie de ma vie!", cordially she wrote once.
During her sleep, she was neither happy nor calm
She saw a beloved face, utterly deformed, wounded
The face she loved most , is almost unrecognizable
She wanted to hold her, but could not do anything.
Agitated, anxious, she woke up in the middle of the night.
She remembered, that she had a new medicine added to the list.
She could hold on fully knowing the inevitable placebo effect.
In the middle of the night, she was suddenly certain about her mind.
And for the first time in a long time, her mind was not playing tricks on her!
"Placebo - Part 1"
Deals with God?
I don’t think that is possible.
Depends what cards you’re playing with
and what the trade off is
do you bluff? or
play it safe and lose all your tricks?
Let’s talk about SIN,
it sounds delicious
but once swallowed
it comes out just like everything else.
The thing with Sin is,
it’s a bit like diarrhoea,
depends what you’ve taken in
and how much has tainted you
pathologically, i.e.
Virus, Bacteria, Parasite?
A little diarrhoea, with the right prescription
easily blitzed.
If it’s totally infiltrated your bloodstream,
well, you're cactus really.
It’s the gift that keeps on giving.
I call that, with regards to Sin -
Divine intervention.
For a severe case as that,
you would be required to be kept out of reach
and monitored on a daily basis, away from
passing on the contagion to anyone else.
If you’re locked up in a small room
and the toilet paper rations run out -
it can get real messy.
Particularly if your room mate’s in
Prison Greens, is twice the size of you
and a Psychopath with a propensity
for knocking your head into the wall
whenever you ignore him
and while he’s at it, takes the opportunity
to rub himself up against you – he’s
marking his territory….
and well, you’re at that point where
you’re thinking,
“Do I bluff? Or play it safe and lose all my tricks?”
At that moment, it’s a safe bet
you’ve lost all your tricks.
And you’re thinking,
“This ain’t Protective Custody,
where’s God in all of this?”
(Lovejoy-Burrton/2017 Dec)
A fairytale, commercial.
Raining onto minds window sill
An unfathomable deep.
Abominable monster on Life's seven seas.
Dreams, the valuable current sea.
A two edged sword for those sailing on the razors edge.
Balancing on it's journey.
They can bring us under the spell
of the Sirens that lay naked, unfulfilled, singing of blatentcy lungs in swell.
Scooped magic from.
Well.
Baring grins and teeth that virus
reVamped pyres
of passions piracy.
Witches of our own conjuring.
Beckoning for your release.
Dreams.
Wholly,
Water on the brain, licking in serendipity.
As it pleased.
To fashion a firmament, a figurehead, pornographically toteming-
Abreast of it's tease.
Everlasting return, returning, reoccurring.
That of- the rock-altar we cling to.
That deserted forge calling us back
to esteem the tooling of it's use.
Of placebo form, ethereally born.
Chartering smoke signals- ritually
awakened in the atmosphere
that you draw from.
A desperate plea.
For counterparts to see.
As the waves inundate you
with the salt of it's mesmerizing sting.
Dreams are intangible tools-
for those who thirst at an oasis-
One that drools into the mouth of madness.
Cups of drinking.
Unquenchable thinking.
Wandering in wondering
Wondering if wandering will bring the wonders we wand them to be.
Dreams.
Mind Genie;
With hourglass smoking lamp;
A reality burn, fueled by illusion, fire staunching your brain with soulstamp.
Dreams,
where the Fool is King.
And a Super-tramp.
~Jude Fernando Herrick