Long Profile Poems
Long Profile Poems. Below are the most popular long Profile by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Profile poems by poem length and keyword.
Roman à clef tragicomedy...
overlaid with façade of fiction = Mein Kampf
No need for yours truly to dig deep,
(albeit bonafide figuratively)
by Dickens thru mine Uriah Heep,
a gnarled mass creep
ping, comprising, encompassing, glomming
abysmal existence strewn with hard times,
such that I wanna leap
out this metaphorical bleak house,
a black hole in the wall swallowing
i.e. disallowing any peep
ordinarily yawping, proliferating, flirting...
now fumfering lamely issued by keep
ping low profile super tramping cheap
trickster, our mutual
friend Matthew Scott Harris,
where lack of functioning heating unit
(think male organ if ye will)
upended, rendered, discombobulated...
scrappy body electric hominid
to experience quality sleep.
Principal reason I write
to balance and aright
unexpected largesse
(thank you dad), where
eyes suddenly got bright
and bushy tail incessantly
wagged day and night,
a sensible palliative temporarily
eased penury plight,
which cash equivalent,
viz four Benjamins alleviated quite
helpful thwarting necessity to fight
off bill collectors brandishing
armstrong lance's compelling me
to summon black knight
in shining armor lodged within white
castle amidst prickly bishop
obviously one prone easily to excite
amusing little lord Fauntleroy
groomed as heir to throne,
enthusiasm since his birth did ignite
(Aesop pose) storybook life,
where fanciful elation did take flight
buzzfeeding, droning, feasting
on par with Mister
Bumble bee in flight
sweet nectar amidst lilies of the field
analogous to stripling Adam - fine lad
eve vent chilly seeking delight.
Ah to gather rose while ye may
tis futile wishful thinking,
now at mine three
score orbitz round sun,
which libido far out at bay
prurient predilections once
spawn time wracked to lay
waste vestal virgin such as... Little Dorrit,
now... raging hormones stagnant clay
hardened, atrophied, eutrophied,
jackknifed limp bizkit
long bereft testy tickle
yar seaman quizzical,
slack jawed, and sullen at
deserted abandoned cobwebbed quay
ignored do not enter, keep out,
private property signals desiccated,
no place for Peter to take holiday
barring ingress to ply skin flute
amidst hollerin hootenanny,
perhaps convincingly explaining
welcoming Voldemort without delay.
SMILING FACES
Intro: shalom, hi, hey and hello,
welcome to my poem called smiling faces, where all faces are not the SAME.
But some of them, are the face of FAME. And others, are the face of SHAME.
But nonetheless, not all faces here, value their good NAME. And you know? Because some of them are full of GAMES; also out for GAMES; and so, it doesn't matter if their good NAME gets DEFAME. And so, without further a due, here's my poem called SMILING FACES; and goes a little something like this:
Sometimes, some smiling faces, is the very FACE, that will take you PLACES.
And have you to MOVE, and get you on the GROOVE; have you to go more than a MILE.
And still, have you not to go WILD, be WILD; and also to act WILD.
And be straight foul.
But instead, some of them would PROFILE you, see your FILE; know your STYLE, while they have you to SMILE MILD like a little CHILD.
And sometimes, there are some of them, that would SKIN and GRIN with you and plus, at you, WHILE they give you ah glass of GIN to sip on; and hope that, you don't SIN, but lift up your CHIN, while they take you IN like a true FRIEND and FAN.
And see you through, up until you can STAND and FIEND for yourself at the very END.
For sometimes, there are some of them, who would smile at you and plus, smile with you and even smile in your face; and still think that you are a WASTE, simply because, they cannot get into your good GRACE, SPACE, CASE; also, FACE. And so, therefore, they just want you to be out of the RACE. Because you have such ah beautiful smile, FACE, TASTE,; also PLACE. but anyway, deep down INSIDE, with all jokes ah SIDE in some of their MINDS; also heart, BEHIND their smiles, some of them are as WILD as a CRODOCILE running on TILES. And trust me, I am not in a DENIAL. For I have been THERE; also HERE, for AWHILE; definitely I know their PROFILE; also STYLES. For many of them are DEFILE and full of GUILE. and why is that? It is because, some of them, are always LIEING, and have something to HIDE. And so, for that reason, they are not as open and WIDE like the blue SKIES. For many of them goes under DESGUISE and doesn't want to be RECOGNIZE for their LIES; or for being SLY. And truly that cannot FLY in my EYES, for I find them to be pretty SLY and I cannot let it FLY, SLIDE; or RIDE and DIE without keeping a close EYE.
There's a lot going on in the world, so I feel the need to write
I'm going to give my food for thought, while the government just feed you lies
I'm not dumb enough to believe a word that comes from Theresa May
Believe or don't believe, we're still screwed either way
We're all forced to suffer because of the actions of the Government
We live in the dirty streets, nowhere near a palace like Buckingham
Wages are getting lower but taxes are doubling
Look at all the dirt we're shovelling
We're told not to care about all the innocent kids being killed in Libya
We're told not to worry about the deals going on in Syria
Facebook won't allow you to change your profile picture to remember the ones who get killed in Nigeria
The government will make you believe that Europe is the only place that Bombs happen
Why are we told to hate a whole group of people for one's actions?
We Kill each other daily, so why would I fear an enemy?
How can I look forward to tomorrow when I can't clear my memory?
Politicians say they'll build new houses to home the homeless and it sounds Promising
But then a month later, that plan is scrapped and they're demolishing
Soldiers who fought for the country
Will be left homeless and made to go hungry
Never will i duck the coward Donald
I can't believe some actually support this force of evil
Some things get lost in thoughts
But he's at the golf resort
He doesn't care that there are people drowning in Puerto Rico
The president of the United states doesn't even support the people
He doesn't care who goes without
You held the door open for him just for him to show you out
Being a good human being is something he doesn't know about
They're going to hate me for writing this, I may end up below the ground
I'd rather die speaking my mind, than some meaningless shallow rhymes
I don't give a damn what a Kardashian is wearing for Valentines
I care about freedom of speech and I hope someone will free Palestine
I scream free Palestine and that's something some will want to kill me for
If I'm laying on the ground and my blood is spilling on the floor
It just means I died as a man and my message was too great
I won't apologize for speaking my mind, even if this makes you hate
I refuse to be quiet or stay blind
Someone tell the politicians it's question time
i miss when i didn’t have to worry.
when getting dressed was about color and comfort,
not fear.
not calculating how much skin was too much.
not wondering if someone would call me a ****
just for wearing shorts in the summer.
i miss when i didn’t know
what it meant to be perceived.
when i could wear my hair up
without thinking about my forehead,
my jawline,
my side profile—
without imagining how someone else
might see me
and decide i was wrong.
i miss when my body was just mine.
not a thing to compare or apologize for.
not something to fix.
i didn’t care if my stomach showed,
if my thighs were bigger than other girls’.
they were just thighs.
just skin.
just me.
but now—
if i dress up, i’m doing it for attention.
if i wear a low neckline,
i’m “asking for it.”
i’m “easy.”
but if i cover up,
i’m lazy.
boring.
not trying hard enough to be “feminine.”
like somehow, i owe the world beauty.
you can’t win.
you’re either too much,
or not enough.
too loud, or too quiet.
too confident, or insecure.
no matter how you exist,
you’re wrong in someone’s eyes.
growing up as a girl
means learning to shrink.
to cross your arms when you walk.
to smile when you're uncomfortable.
to be polite when someone makes you feel unsafe.
to laugh it off when they call you a
for saying no.
you learn to carry shame
in places you didn’t know existed.
you learn to look in the mirror
and only see what needs to change.
i miss when i didn’t have to worry.
when i didn’t know
that every choice i make with my body
would be judged.
when i didn’t get told
i looked “tired” without makeup,
but “fake” with too much.
when no one told me
to be smaller,
softer,
prettier,
quieter.
i miss when i felt whole
without anyone’s permission.
before strangers stared.
before teachers made comments.
before family said,
“you’re really filling out,”
like it was something to be ashamed of.
i miss when i could just exist.
when i wasn’t fighting so hard
to feel safe,
to feel enough.
and maybe one day,
i’ll unlearn what the world taught me.
maybe i’ll wear what i want
without guilt.
maybe i’ll take up space
without apologizing first.
but for now,
i just miss her.
the girl who didn’t know
how heavy it would all become.
the girl who didn’t have to worry.
In the digital landscape of TikTok, scammers operate stealthily, strategically identifying their targets within vulnerable demographics—specifically, older Generation X users. Each profile is analyzed meticulously, revealing weaknesses that can be exploited. The anticipation builds as the scammer initiates contact, contemplating who will be ensnared next.
“Will she be my next target?” he reflects, as the initial engagement elicits a promising response: “Sure, count me in.” This raises a question of accountability in a game that resembles Russian roulette, fraught with risks on both sides.
The scammer initiates the conversation with manipulative charm: “Greetings, gorgeous! What’s your name? Where are you from? I have seen the signs of opportunity.”
His subsequent messages reveal a formulaic script designed to elicit emotional investment: “Could you be the one I’ve been searching for? The crucial piece in my heart’s puzzle?” When moments of silence ensue, he prompts, “Hello? Are you still there? Let’s continue our discussion.”
The language employed is rife with metaphor: “You shine like a star, yet I hold your wings.” The transition to a more secure messaging platform, such as WhatsApp, is an intentional maneuver aimed at bypassing TikTok's monitoring mechanisms. He nonchalantly suggests exchanging contact information, self-identifying with playful anonymity as “lover, lover.”
The nature of the communication implies a predatory mindset: “Lingerie or satin? To me, it makes no difference.” The scam artist masquerades as a fabricated identity—a “Nigerian king”—exemplifying the archetype of a rogue operator in the online ecosystem. The shared traits among these scammers highlight a systematic approach, appealing to the fleeting desires of unsuspecting individuals seeking connection.
Currently, he manages multiple admirers simultaneously, each vying for attention in this digital charade. The fluctuations of interaction underscore a transactional view of affection, framed as an authoritarian relationship—“Oh, what a night! Oh, what a dictator.”
**Advisory Note:** Elderly Generation X users must exercise heightened vigilance against online impostors. With economic instability as a backdrop, they remain prime targets for unscrupulous actors operating in the digital realm.
1MDB Walking Free
Talk about living charmed lives for some people in positions of power.....
The latest involve news of the latest appointments of certain financial figures...
News about President elect Donald Trump's handpicking of certain people..
To spearhead his primary rallying call to make America great again...
Looks to be a potential pooling of people linked to 1MDB unsavoury fame...
No less than 3 of his latest appointees are tarred with the 1MDB brush of shame...
The latter being of course undeniably the world's largest Ponzi Scheme....
Spearheaded by a well derided kleptomaniac who is mysteriously referred to as MO1...
MO1 is a Malaysian Official leader, who conspired with crooks, and siphoned off billions ....
In an financial scandal to involves investigation that requires no less than 8 nations..
Despite their dubious links to 1MDB shame through the company they once served ...
A most reputable, respected and established financial entity called Goldman Sachs...
Gary Cohn, Steve Bannon and Steven Mnuchin are 3 top notched economic advisers.....
Recently appointed into the incoming Trump administration as key treasury officers.....
Rivalling the considerable financial clout wielded by the office of the Treasury Secretary..
Will incoming Attorney General Jeff Sessions drop the lawsuits by the U.S. Justice Department....
Will he be advised to finally set aside the high profile case of pursuing financial justice...
To seize assets that were the result of US$3.5 billion that was misappropriated from 1MDB...
If that happens, people, remember this Bolehland of infinite possibilities...
If it happens, “Mr. Dirty” MO1 could suddenly become “Mr. Clean” Mahatma Gandhi.....
Hohoho...
With Santa Claus coming for Xmas dinner, what gifts are there for long suffering Malaysians...
More infinite possibilities from corruptible individuals, from here to the highly esteemed US Judicial Office?...
This saga of 1MDB being the source of various slush funds that netted billions for MO1...
Will justice be seen done in the long run or will money and power brokers prevail as one...
And we see history bear witness that even in the highest office in the Land of the Free...
Alternative possibilities can happen and somehow charm the corrupted into walking free?....
Maleeha Soomro,mother of Barrister Fahad Malik,who was gunned down in the capital some six years ago,appealed to the Supreme Court of Pakistan to take suo motu on the murder of her son as additional and session judge is allegedly trying to give the killers relief in the case.She said that the apex court had also deleted section 7 of the Anti-Terrorism Act,1997 from the FIR.
Addressing a press conference here on Saturday,Maleeha Soomro said that her son Barrister Fahad Malik was murdered in the capital by a mafia on Margalla Road some six years ago.The apex court had deleted section 7 of ATA,1997 from the FIR and had transferred the high profile case to a lower court where ASJ Zafar Iqbal is all set to conduct a hearing in the case.“I don’t trust ASJ Zafar Iqbal as he is taking the side of killers and can grant them bails,”she said adding that he shouldn’t hear our case which should be transferred to another judge’s court.“Lower Court Judge Zafar Iqbal has met my son’s killers. Judge Zafar Iqbal is not trusted.He should be stopped from hearing our case and the case should be transferred to another judge’s court because the lawyers of our killers are being heard in the court of Judge Zafar Iqbal till evening,” the mother alleged.
A writ petition was also filed in the Supreme Court of Pakistan and the CJP should resume hearing while the case should be monitored.Justice should be provided to the children and family of the victim,said Maleeha Soomro adding that her son Barrister Fahad Malik was brutally killed by Raja Arshad,the kingpin of the land mafia,by firing 43 bullets.
She added today(Saturday)is Fahad Malik’s birthday and she has been humiliated for six years.The judges of the Islamabad High Court remarked that this is not terrorism.She said,“I was terrified when the killer Raja Arshad escaped from the scene after the murder and was later arrested from Torkham Border.”Criminals are being facilitated by prosecuting cases in the dark of night,she said adding,“I do not want my case to be decided by an unscrupulous judge because it has happened before that the judge tried to grant him bail.If the accused is granted bail then the accused will run away.”
She appealed to the Supreme Court to monitor the case and provide justice to the children and family of Barrister Fahad Malik.
Do i have to first change my name to
Poet Destroyer to top the list,
Or add my all three names like
Carol Sunshine Brown to come second?
Is it wearing sun glasses like Andrea Dietrich
In my profile picture that mandates me,
Or welcoming Soup freshers like SKAT-LOVE does
To be in the top four?
What does it really take?
Is it all about the P enclosed in the yellow star
Like the top threee?
Really?
What about suZ-D who is number 98 with that gold P,
Did she not harmonize her name like
Charmaine Chircop who is on 20
What does it really take?
Should i say its all about being a lady
To be in the top nine?
Or else its because in poetry men come number ten?
If so
Thanks to Vince Suzadail Jr. who made it there
And our own hero Becca Lucas who sealed the 100
Does it really take that?
Should i say its all about the profile picture?
Then i would have an answer for sharon weimer
who came on number 11
Would Carolyn Devonshire say i am right on that?
I dont think so not our number five
Then what is it all about?
Should i say its all about the US flag?
If so then thats why Linda-Marie SweetHeart came on number 6
But what about Robert A. Dufresne who is below
Vicky Tsiluma a Kenyan?
On that One has P and the other lacks a photo
I got it the former has no photo
So am i right then?
That to be on this list you must not be from Africa?
No at last i disagree with my view
Because Wilma Neels is on number 38
And…99 Adeleke Adeite
At least that's kind of fair
To Africa
So do i have the answer i wanted?
No. Nott until i went back to my poems
And made a great discovery
These are the same people
Who put ink on my poems
These are the people i read their poems
And i curse my mother for feeding me
With pumpkins
These are the poets we all treasure
The famous 100
who deserve to be on the wall of fame
Even now i guess they are the people
That will drop comments on This
As others read, get bored and walk a way cursing my master piece
Not caring about Killing my dreams of becoming 101
I think that's why my all links have that number
101 love poems from Rodgers Roger
Yet i posted an elegy
These are the book worms
That know punctuation better
And can determine a right type of their poem
These are the ones who never post stuff like
,./;'' am trying ';./=/
by: Poet destroyer
I investigated many poems today
Friendly people on this (Love Boat)
Everybody different in their own way
The evidence I found is hidden in every poetry line
Mysteriously, one poet comes from (Fantasy Island)
I am filing charges on the lady
Who welcomes you to the soup
Leaves you a comment, without reading your identity
Today I read a report on the supernatural.
Billies demons vs' (Charlies Angels.)
Investigating a woman who poets you advise, gee's how nice
I will give her a ticket, for making me feel guilty as can be
How about the clown who does not wear a rubber nose.
He puts on a show with his pen and paper (THAT IS TALENT)
He is using his ego another way
He makes us laugh, with one whip of his Belt
I will not release the name on the depressing poem I read
For her, I will stop traffic, and move everyone out of her rain
Her words made my heart bleed
A warrant goes out to the girl who used too much imagination.
I actually got to see tongues to tongue vividly.
I will never ticket the poet queen
Murder she wrote and got away,
I do not know who is the John Doe I found today.
I will be reading his poetry file.
To make sure, he is not misleading this investigation.
I also confiscated an old antique or two
Unique skills found in their retired war shoes
I did my undercover work on a serial killer case on the soup.
That is one report I did not want to picture
I hope the writer will bargain for a life sentence
In a paradise so Green.
I will soon end my file, and turn in my report about Big Foot
After I arrest them ladies who write about butterflies
It is against the law to lead us on a goose chase
We are nowhere near (A highway to heaven)
I have to go join a (S.W.A.T.) team.
To raid the aliens who invade (The little house on the prairie)
I call this group the (A team)
You know A-liens team who you are.
Someone just posted bail
For the girl who blinded us all
She wore her neon converse a straight ticket to jail
I am on a manhunt locating a molester
Every time she is spotted in a pick out line
She comes back and deletes her trade
Erasing her only profile, just to edit all over again
This coming from a crooked cop, (Magnum)P D
Reporting live on the poetry soup
Under the shadow of a maple tree,
Green as summer, wistful and praising
Like the peace blowing dandelion seeds
Risking the rain’s rhythmic showers,
Against blades of tempting July sprinkling
Haphazardly against the wonders beyond
Silent prayers, raised by last night’s
Moon glowing against the glistening backdrop
Stars listening for August’s trembling voice,
Arriving on the dusty parched memories
Colored precariously in the sensations breathing,
Echoing in the noonday whispers, clouds
Hoping to share their heartfelt sequence with
Yesterday, before the summer discovers it’s answers
Poured out in cerulean skies, lasting – enduring
The temptation to just let go of her first glimpse of laughter
Falling over the night, wishing for the pulsating
Effervescent waves splashing melancholy
Into the face of a breathless truth, the moment
When hope meets faith and the promise of true love
Stirs the chances, risking shame and humiliation,
Stunning the source of her imagination,
Awaking to the mists of passivity, still like a dream
Drifting through the promises, pursued by the soul
Who believes, always believes … muses
Quivering, unsteady as the jolts of lightening against a sky
Filled with glittery liquid, streaming and fading
Wistful as the spirit who has been raided by oysters,
And pearls who tempt the light into fading,
Reassuring the evening, dusk brings a gentle grace,
Soothing away the heat and making the heart a vow
To begin once again, to begin to reveal the hope
Who knows that every moment, each priceless twinkling
Is the experience preparing joy to kiss away the doubting
Caress the impression of God’s mercy rustling
Through the profile of branches, feeling the breath,
So subtle, erasing the past with its laughter,
Healing the heart and calming the thoughts so forever
Is only one breath from the moment when I smile
Into the gaze of nostalgic moods, the reflection
Who silences every shimmer of starlight, quiets
Even the dark’s discontent with a forever that is alive,
Eternity rides within the silhouette of the cross
Where He left us with the imprint of His heaven sent promise
Filled with a grace, abundant beyond our dreams,
Grace that cannot deceive, grace that can never, ever leave!