Long Poison Poems
Long Poison Poems. Below are the most popular long Poison by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Poison poems by poem length and keyword.
they always start the same way—
a handshake, a smile,
some cheap wine poured into a crystal glass,
the crowd clapping like trained seals.
then he starts talking about the people,
and how he’ll lead them,
how he’s their man.
but give it a few months—
the limo rides get longer,
the mirror talks back louder,
and suddenly he thinks
he’s got God on the payroll.
he’s supposed to be a figurehead,
just a cardboard cutout for the ceremony,
a name for the checks,
a face for the crowd—
but he starts believing the statues are for him.
you see it every time:
power’s a slow poison,
sweet at first,
then it burns the throat,
rots the soul,
and turns a man’s eyes into mirrors
that reflect only himself.
the rest of us—
we keep paying the bill,
keep clapping,
keep bowing,
pretending he’s not
just another double bigmac
From McDonald's on the corner
who thinks that you should pay his tab.
I eat what I like
We live in a world of teachings
With a mentality control
cyconfans injecting life's with
nidles of deadly chemicals,
You must not eat this and that
The man with a rope says
Hmmmm....., but,
my mouth, tongue, siliva
Need it freedom,
If you don't mind
I eat what I like
You say you know it all
yet you grand poison
with your teeth every day of your life
You say you understand diet
yet you suffer from a new strange illness,
And now you stand to teach me
What I should eat
I eat what I like
You could not make animals
to change what they eat
Yet you claim you are perfect
You could not teach a shark
not to swallow smaller fishes
Or could you stop a lion to stop
Feeding on domestic animals,
And now you keep
imposing on my neighbourhood
your manipulated teachings
Just like babylon!
I eat what I like
At the end when you lay 6feet
The worms eat you up to skeleton
In your expensive coffin
With out a permission
now tell me
Are you not a fool
not to eat what life offer to you!
While you are alive
So my friend
I eat what I like
Submission leads to sustenance?
In what world is this?
Death, dynamite, dominance!
Blowing Doom a kiss!
High cliff force in summer late?
Staggers in the gait.
O ye gods above, strife? Sate.
Too much on thy plate...
Drums played by the war gods?
Poets, by Fate required.
Nuclear my temper-rods!
Mercenaries hired!
Tyrant of tomorrow, time!
Knee deep in the slime!
Sullen silence slight sublime!
Wind, blow well each chime...
Mime, form well thy boxes.
Prisoner, poison pen.
Where the golden phlox is?
O dragon, from thy den!
Then again, old vampire:
Is succor still a curse?
Pinnacle, apex and spire!
Son, you could do worse!
Versed in rite and ritual?
Flickering fine and free?
Sing within me, brazen bull!
Fire fancifully...
Bullies
Unrestrained, belligerent bullies abound
In schools, institutions, and in businesses,
Who create ruckuses that serve no purpose
But to show passionless feelings of meanness,
Filled with vindictiveness, jealousy, and spite,
In schools, institutions, and in businesses.
Indifferent to others, they harass and fight,
Irresponsible for the scars they impart
Through their vindictiveness, jealousy, and spite,
Employing words and actions to poison hearts
And disrupt the flow of cordial interactions,
Irresponsible for the hurt they impart.
Temper-tantrum clods using intimidation
Who are conceited, narcissistic, and deranged,
Disrupting the flow of cordial interactions.
From the cradle to the grave, they seldom change;
Unrestrained, belligerent bullies abound,
Conceited, narcissistic, vain, and deranged,
And create ruckuses that serve no purpose.
A threat of superiority
Leads to inferiority
Of a heart consumed
By a venomous poison
Of hate lead by jealousy
A darkness claim their soul
Convinced that an enemy
Was those loved by the sun
With skin oh so golden
Threatened by a culture
To which they steal like vultures
Begging to be chosen
Colonising a moment
Belonging to those with a darker skin colour
All we wanted was equality
All you wanted was authority
Lands built on lies
Where black met demise
Under grey and cloudy skies
And buried secrets forced to hide
Hidden under the cloak of defence used As your disguise
Blaming the victim of a crime you committed
Just to satisfy the deep pits of your stomach
A place where guilt resides
Melting in the acidity of your pride
Insecurities infect your eyes
Leaving you blind
Of your little white lies
To claim that being white
Correlated to being the superior race
To capitalise off of ignorant minds
Of an acceptance they yearned to find
Power a secret weapon
Abused by those who wield it
But the real truth is black lives
Are kryptonite to their ego
How their only achievement was culture stolen
How our presence engulfed them
How their need for attention to grow their ego
To distract them from a body so hollow
To stop from the voices that echo
Inferiority wrapped in sorrow
The smiles they keep a deceiving show
From a pain that refuses to go
When revenge is fueled by a crime not commited
One must question ones motivation
Ones intention with all this hatred
To a race that's only crime was being black
Punished With a lifetime of psychological torment
The fear of existing
Targeted by the envy of those whose livelihood was based on colonisation
And culture is based on controlled violence to achieve black silence
In winter's cold grip
In the land of the Angles
The Good Christians came
Against their will to a trial
In a grand city
Called the Ford of the Oxen
Good will be slaughtered
By the hands of hot fire
The hands of the judge
The home's ruler was their judge
His stare was piercing
That went with flaming outbursts
And with his red hair
And the king's false overseers
Were the proud jury
Against the thirty Christians
Who came years before
Who came to spread medicine
To heal the ones sick
Cleanse all those with leprosy
To raise the ones dead
Cleanse all those with black demons
All without a fee
But to the judge and jury
This was dark poison
That spread about pestilence
And the Good Christians
Were flees spreading everywhere
Now in England's robe
Eating away the fabric
The thirty Christians spoke thus
"Blessed are those ones
Who suffer from sword or flame
From rope or prison
Or from winter's sheer coldness
For the sake of light
For Christ and goodness itself
For they are Christ's own
They are in heaven's kingdom"
The jury looked on
In their long adorned white robes
Clenching their own fists
Feeling their ring in their palms
"Heretics!" They yelled
With that word, the trail ended
They were now guilty
Still they sang a song of life
"Blessed are those ones
Who are reviled and hated
Rejoice and be glad
For great is the light of Christ"
As red flames rose up
The king in his ruthlessness
Had all of them flogged
In the sight of the cattle
And had their brows burned
And drove them from oxen's ford
And they stripped them all
To wail and die in frost's grip
Or be still in pain
But they kept singing with joy
The king shut his mouth
For hot anger chained his lips
His freckled face scowled
All the cattle were ordered
To have no pity
And walk to the other side
If one is in sight
And not pour good oil and wine
On their bleeding wounds
And not let them find an inn
To find some shelter
They were in winter's cold chains
For nature herself
To be executioner
Those few Good Christians
Still had the spirit in them
And looked to the stars
Just as Christ laughed on the tree
They joyfully laughed
They went to this world laughing
And left this cold world laughing
Of all the world this century I see
What shimmers – artifice devoid of soul.
Pneumatic truncheons burying dreams of She,
The Mother, under satin sheets of coal.
If would mine eyes deceive me not I’d think
It just a putrid fantasy, from which
The shadows formed by tortured lids could blink
Awake into the rays from which no niche
Could cling like pincers holding darkness gripped.
Inverted it would seem the very Laws,
When God can’t stop in poison water dipped,
The baptism of Earth in fossil maws.
I pray that life – eternal Hope so fair,
Can snatch redemption from morose Despair.
So the poison sets in.
The wound, it starts to heal.
Paralysis then a lost limb?
When it’s gone do we still feel?
Do we remember what is was like to be happy and free?
They’ve taken everything that was right from our society.
A broken nation now we are. Trust and pride in the winds.
The journey has gone too far, the damage will be everlasting.
The history of our nation smeared in blood.
All the fighting and killing!
Did they die for nothing?
Is democracy not worth defending?
So the poison sets in.
Please tell me, do we just close our eyes?
Are we now deaf to the screaming of our nations history of cries?
A candle slowly burns
On the nightstand
As a sliver of the moon
Looks on
Veins of black poison
Bubble beneath skin
The cry of a banshee
A simmering memory
Writhing in a bed
Of bloodied rose thorns
Shackled by hatred
Damned by fear
Seeking adulation
Through deception
Seeking acceptance
Through conception
Everything is on fire
The guilty hand out verdicts
The innocent carry out the execution
Ignorance is not bliss
Dilapidated emotions
When the wicked rule fates
Reality is an aberration
Shunned by common sense
Burn it all down
The structure cannot be saved
No amount of empty platitudes
Can revive long lost values
The candle flame died
On the nightstand
The great deception
Is the flame never lived
He slips the noose around her slender neck
Cloaked and masked with heavy breath
He can't help but be obsessed
All the dolls hangin' around - pretty little lies that make not a sound
The poison of passion is imagined as they are undressed.
The dead in their eyes is magnificent
Ivory skin - chill to win
Realm of the dark, lips apart, he just has to do it - again and again
The equinox of evil with the essence of sin
Is it vanity or insanity - his dressing up to lure them in
Disquiet Devilry and a sip of gin and the perplexity of the evil twin.
The morbid beauty of death and dying
The lovelies I have twirling in the twilight
Death has changed my life - the quiet peace holds the ladies and - I tight
The divinity of debauchery - death is not treachery
It's like an estuary of decadent innocence.
Dainty damsels dangling Breathless but fabulous
Envisioning slitting their throats as if they were flowers
Heinous and horrific the macabre abounds
A carousel of corpses, a ballet of cadavers, a symphony of death
Dazzling
The eloquence of the end-of-life - exquisite and eternal
His masterpiece just hang'in around.....