Long Revenge Poems
Long Revenge Poems. Below are the most popular long Revenge by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Revenge poems by poem length and keyword.
There is too much fear in the world these days,
Fear of the unknown, scared in soo many ways!
Phobias of spiders, mice, rats and bats,
Are you frightend of nothing? Why are you scared of that?
Scared of oppression? And the way they use aggression?
Are they messing with your head, using psychic suggestion?
Wrestling with your doubts will only lead to fear,
Always looking into shadows.. scared that something's always near.
You're winding yourself up! There's no reason to be scared,
But it's never as it seems.. so you'd better be prepared.
Because if you're feeling fear, it could be.. you're not ready,
With your trembling legs, and butterflies in your belly.
It's not so strange, that lots of people fear pain,
Being boiled alive, with needles stuck into your brain,
You've got to be careful, I'm afraid to say,
Be quick to make your mind up, to fight or run away.
Would you fill your pants, with a gun to your head?
Now, that's REAL fear.. you could be dead, enougth said!
Some could find your nerves and make you scream for weeks,
They can teach you about pain and how it reaches new peaks.
But the ones like that.. are fearful too,
Of justice, revenge, and the human rights crew.
They should be scared! I wanna see their faces white,
'Cause they even kidnap kids and slip away into the night!
Now I'll get swept away, as it floods from me,
See, some of these emotions, are as deep as the sea,
Some wanna get a gun, and hunt these sick suckers,
And get them on their knees and say PRAY MOTHERF%%%%%!
See this is the crux.. this is the bottom line,
If they catch you doing that, then it's you that's doing time,
It's never black & white, it's not easy to see..
There are so many fears, it's all part of being free.
Are you scared of the dark, because that's how it began?
Are you scared that it links you to the earliest man?
Who had to hunt to eat, had to kill to stay alive,
And did what they had to, so this race could all survive.
The things to be scared of are the things inside,
You can struggle and fight, but you can never run or hide,
So walk down the street with your head held high,
And face down fear.. because we're ALL gonna die!
But the opposite of fear though.. is to be brave,
Who knows how many lives you could save.
The futures unknown, and we all face change,
It is all just a part of being free-range.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared bt not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
The pastor feared for many years once upon learning who I am.
A gift to the world sits in the palm of my hands.
For good or for evil, its up to me to decide.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
Before the death of my sister, you told me I would have to choose.
I chose my familia then my heart forever became brused.
You went away from my dreams then only came back once my heart became cold.
You reached out your hand yet I only turned it away.
Fighting wars in my dreams of unknown beings.
Voices in my head and visions of unusual seeings.
Picked up the Bible yet only learning of its hidings.
Secerts of a World thats so blind to many.
When someone speaks no one listens.
When the voice up lifts then everyone begins to focus.
Against a belief thats much stronger then our own can leave a person breathless.
I lay down a pad then pick up a pen but my hands refuse to let me write.
Stand in front of a croud to speak of our World but my voice is silence.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
You came in the form of a shadow.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear.
You told me respect will be high because of the gift I offer.
You told me I wouldn't have to struggle anymore all I have to do is take your hand.
Walk with you like how I once did with Jesus.
Talk with you like I prayed to God.
Not to bow to your feet but lift out my hand for you to kiss as we bow to each other.
Sit on the right hand side of the thrown.
To have power greater then the World can image.
A new lyfe where you wouldn't have to hope and dream.
You promised me my revenge on the cruel will come.
You promised my my oppinons will be a factor.
No more crying at night because of hunger pains.
Or familia betrayal.
You came to me many times in my dreams.
At first I was scared but not anymore.
I closed my eyes and turned away in fear but now I see your face has appear
Form:
this is for all the DECENT ladies out there...
i dont know about you, but im sick of being second choice to skeezy women
i dont know about you, but when i have a boyfriend i just get sick of livin
i dont know about you, but i know about me
and this girl here,shes sick of the pleas
sick of the ********, sick of the crap
sick of all the "friends" who talk behind my back
sick of it all, sick of everything
and with this feeling, positive im supposed to bring?
im sick of being told "its my outlook on life"
youre so negative, you make your own strife
i dont know about you, but its not MY atatood
it all the ugliness in this sick twisted world
and i dont know about you, but im fed up
i dont about you but i give up
i dont know about you, but im done feeling the way i do
and i dont know about you, but then again i think i do
you pick yourself apart, about all your flaws
and when they cheat and lie, it just instills that further,its a law
i dont know about you, but i think i do
you're the girl, much like myself
with a good heart and a bad sense of health
build us up, tear us down
i dont know about you, but i really think i am going crazy
i dont know about you, but i think theyre all lazy
too lazy to try, too lazy to care
too lazy to give a ****, but the energy shows up when in satans lair
no more loyalty, to get kicked in the teeth
no more "friends" who just make you weep
no more crap, and no more forgiving
no more forgetting and NO MORE RE LIVING.
im not settling, i have enough of "so-so" to last my whole life
and i dont know about you girls, but it ends tonight.
we stop picking ourselves apart, we stop blaming ourselves
we stop thinking our little "flaws" ar why they did this
when its about someone else
its about them, the people they choose to be around
and quite frankly, before id be around THEM id be buried in the ground.
alive.
yes i hate them that much
and i dont know about you, but i have had enough
i wont blame myself, when skeezy outdoes classy
i wont blame myself for the hilariously tacky
things i see, on a daily basis
and i dont know about you
but i too, can fake it.
see its harder for me,to be mean like you all are
im not built that way, and being mean hurts my heart
so no i cant do the revenge thing
but what i can do is protect myself again
i dont know about you, but its long overdue
i DO know about you...because i AM you.
you are not alone.
My savior was born a man,
He came from heaven, but a man is what he became.
Ordinary, fallen, vulnerable, weak, and confused.
He became all of this and more,
For he knew that only in the form of a servant,
Could he save the lost, and set the captives free.
But there came a time,
I tell you, there came a time,
When he rose up and claimed his former self,
And knew his nature,
I am that I am, He said.
I am that I am.
I was born a boy.
Ordinary, fallen, vulnerable, weak, and confused.
Almost worthy of the condemnation that this world has shamed upon me and
mine,
Almost worthy of the epistemological inferiority, that the world complexly imputes
to me,
I was born a boy,
Full of rage and anger, when they called me “boy” out of their own confusion.
But I came to a man, who is a God, but was a man,
And said, “Lord transform me, my God, transform me into what you will for me to
be”
And he showed me pain.
And he showed me sorrow.
But there came a time,
When I rose up, and claimed the impossible,
To be a child and man simultaneously,
I was born a boy,
But I came to a man, who is a God, but was a man,
And said, “Lord transform me, my God, transform me into what you will for me to
be”
And he showed me pain.
And he showed me sorrow.
But there came a time,
When I rose up, and claimed the impossible,
To be a child and man simultaneously,
And now I can look American hypocrisy in the face, and say “God Bless You”
And now I can look klu Klux klan firemen in the eye and say I love you.
Black, beautiful, strong, fearless, and resolute to endure,
Black, beautiful, strong, fearless, and resolute to right this world’s wrong and still
retain my childlike disposition.
I am a man, I tell you.
And that is more than enough!
For once I strived to rise above, but now I seek to rise in love.
For once I strived to get revenge, but now I seek that hatred end.
And men and boys and women to, would claim the light of victory.
Not because of me, I see, but because of a man, who was a God.
And became fallen, vulnerable, weak, and feeble,
As I felt in a time of trial,
Not because of me, I see, but because of a man, who claimed his former self
and rose to set me free.
And now, I am true.
Not perfect but a man nonetheless.
I was born a boy,
But I reached to the sky, and said, “God help me”
And now, I AM THAT I AM, I AM MAN!
VII.
Reid’s eyes widened with the realization,
she was with child? How long had she known?
His mind reeled and more men gathered outside,
by this time his cover had been long blown.
He glanced down upon red Wolf struggling,
then at the woman who haunted his dreams,
forced to chose between revenge or his love,
just minutes ago so simple it seemed.
He glanced at Mink, and she looked back at him,
said, “If you will spare him, I will go with you.
Take me and our child far from this place,
just please do not do what you came to do.”
Red Wolf argured back, speaking in Cheyenne,
traded words with both his daughter and wife,
then Mink said,”He says he will let me go,
that I bring shame to his lodge and his life.
“He says we should both ride away quickly,
that if we do so he’ll delay the chase.
He says a whore daughter is bad enough,
but bearing your son makes me a disgrace.”
Tears streamed down her face as she said the words,
her mother joined in with an acid tounge,
Reid felt something break through his burning rage,
asked, “Do you truly carry my little one?”
When Mink nodded, he pushed Red Wolf forwards,
keeping his knife at the neck of the chief,
the whole band stayed back as they walked through the camp,
Mink ran ahead and two horses did seek.
She mounted first, Reid pushed Red Wolf away,
leapt on a horse and away they did sprint,
the two kept riding for hours that night,
pushing their mounts through second and third winds.
Red Wolf, it seemed, kept his word to the two,
no pursuit was launched by the Cheyenne braves,
but Reid knew now he could never go home,
he had failed to get revenge for the raid.
In the end he took her to the white world,
back to the people he’d not known since youth,
and I see from your looks that you have doubts,
but what I’m telling you is the plain truth.
I know because my father told it to me,
of how he came to Kansas with his squaw,
I was not that child, I came later,
Mink made Gray Fox ten times over a pa.
He doesn’t talk about it all that much,
most of the details mother told to me,
but when he does, a look comes to his eyes,
a look that’s haunting too all who might see.
It’s not that he regrets moving out here,
he’s lived a life that is worthy and full,
but sometimes I think, when he gets like that,
he regrets not slaying that damn Red Wolf.
You can't imagine what its like to march on a sacred city,
to plunder and pulverize a Peoples' promise to Deity,
demolishing centuries of lavish labor, wasting offspring of ancient heredity,
destroying flesh, scriptures and stone with a savage Roman military synergy,
a discipline determined in it's destruction of dissention, inspired by ancestral victory,
politics was not our purview, methodical punishment was our specialty,
We were War's royalty, we were Legio XV Apollonaris,
monsters of Mars, messengers of Apollo, the juggernaut of Jupiter,
along with 11 other Legions led by General Titus, 60, 000 cuts of glory we stood,
for 3 and a half years we fought through Jewish guerilla ambush
asymetrical urban warfare welting our progress like a pirate pestilence
district after district, hell spell after hell spell we bled with chilled maneuver,
the Zealots were pyromaniacs, burnt sacraficers, their zeal and our bodies zesty wood,
in the Kidron Valley they flooded the streets " knee high " with oiled water
as the Cohorts waded through the lanes leery, a torch was tossed, flames rose in rush
240 men perished like spazing stars trapped in a box, our grief agape with a horrified crush,
as reprimand, Titus made the Legate sit in a tent with his chopped off ring finger
smoldering like hot sand in the hand of a marooned man aware of error in his plan,
the insurgents had men we called Fox Tails, desperate demons who knew how Hell began,
as a skirmish succumbed to our skill and number they would run into apartments,
dragging the fury of our blades into rooms of Hades revenge, these were fire entrapments,
the buildings would blaze like windowed volcanos, screams salting us with panic linger,
It was not uncommon to discover a missing Brother Legionary
castrated, and decapitated with a headedless eagle carved upon his chest,
don't speak to me about morals and mercy for I have seen and dealt the damage of rude death
hate becomes your Father, vengence your Mother, aggravated murder your cause
when everything you revere and fear merge to make a leviathen of life,
the " Chosen People " of God became the chosen target of annihilation,
Mount Moriah, mansion of Yahweh the Pariah would become capital of Divine crucifixion,
J.A.B.
This poem has been entered into the Roman Legion Contest
to honor Ancient Rome and the Poet who sponsored this historical subject.
Is there really a beautiful heaven?
Is there a red and black hell for sinners?
Basking on this, I told myself that the beautiful heaven is this we see now, argue with the sky and cloud on this.
Father Francis told us that there is no heaven,
Pope Thomas told us that paradise is within our hearts,
and those who fall and fall on the altar of deliverance are miscreants.
We believed him on a platter of Sunday school morning.
He gave us lies and lies of truth about the World Series of lies.
In this pantful world where children wear disgrace,
In this world' voodoo, where sorrow back treasures of preachers,
In this train of earth where girls wear tears,
In this shattered world where our pride are whores,
Nothing is precious under the sun and nothing that the sun has not seen.
Man is home to himself and have choices about himself.
The clergy men that had their skulls littered in the evil graveyard of my village can tell of this.
To this voidness,
To this coldness,
To this yonder of shattered images,
Xylem of mannered eloquence of the devil,
To the world demon's demonstrators,
To the Halloween and the Dejavu,
To the magical cloth verses of the Indian,
To the cries of unholy pages of those holy book tabled before we were born,
I have a way that seems so right to me; and those are the choices I have made.
To the shrine of Illinois of the Illuminati,
To the pyramid of underworld,
To the coldness of death,
We will escape from this drum of world,
This is darkness!
This is darkness!!
This is darkness!!!
Darkness of the black spirits.
Voidness lies in the bag of red colours.
This gory miseries of the world keep us in the fold of grey.
We don't know death but death knows us,
We don't know life but life speaks of us,
We don't know abstract painting of demons,
We don't know the abstract imageries of sins;
The beauty of sin lies in the consequences that lies aftermath.
We are train of shadows,
We are feathers of spiritualities,
We are blood of feelings, emotions. anger. Carcass. Faded colours. Sadness.
Pains. Revenge. Vengeance. Evil.
Emptiness. Vacant. Void.
We are the opposite of day, synonym of good.
Is there really a beautiful heaven?
Is there a black and red hell for sinners?
Search your soul and answer to its voidness.
Yours Poetically,
©John Chizoba Vincent
I see it now
flying low
over silver-spumed waves.
I am a watcher
I can enlarge the picture
zoom in
look into bright midnight eyes
as if it were I
that propelled it.
Spreading bright foils
catching the billowing blows,
a clean swell-rigged clipper
sky-sailing sailor
tacking to gypsy winds.
Within its avian breast a magnetic compass
on a pivoting gimbal,
soon to make a terrible landfall.
For a ship came upon it
a craft arrayed in the guise of a cruel crocodile,
snagged from the air it snared the voyager.
A ship blighted by its own wake,
a very flowering of evil.
A wandering navigator brutishly used,
deckhands bundling broken wings
bound it as if a flopping fish,
gaffed its body open
to a hollow of hope.
I also recall a monstrous time
inside a crocodiles smile,
a time when poetry
was cut from my lips.
Yet here I am flying
in an airplane looking down
upon England,
following an albatross
only I can see.
Few crocodilians in London
yet more perilous reptiles there,
I shall have to take more care,
plot a fairy-tale revenge
with Peter Pan’s time-frozen statue.
At last to Paris
a windborne glide tracking a dream
of slow rowing wings,
there to dine with a restless ghost
who knows well enough
how dangerous monsters
can be
on land and sea.
There to restore myself
with Baudelaire.
to remake over
an imagined albatross of a life,
return it to humanity,
should it ever want to be
that flightless.
~~~~~
“Often to pass the time on board, the crew
will catch an albatross, one of those big birds
which nonchalantly chaperone a ship
across the bitter fathoms of the sea.
Tied to the deck, this sovereign of space,
as if embarrassed by its clumsiness,
pitiably lets its great white wings
drag at its sides like a pair of unshipped oars.
How weak and awkward, even comical
this traveler but lately so adroit -
one deckhand sticks a pipestem in its beak,
another mocks the cripple that once flew!
The Poet is like this monarch of the clouds
riding the storm above the marksman's range;
exiled on the ground, hooted and jeered,
he cannot walk because of his great wings.”
- Charles Baudelaire
Ronald Rump reasonably roasted
Remarkable – recourse retaining rickety
rambling reverence regarding “r.”
Ronald Rump
repugnant racist republican reviled -
rickettsia re:itch ruler.
Rapaciously ravaged
revered reverential rubric.
Radical ruthless renegade
rapidly riotously ripped rigged ramparts.
Refrained retaining remnant
redolent regal, resplendent rafters.
Riches rudely ruptured rooted rectified rights.
Ruckus ricocheted revenant reign.
Ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
Rambunctious rapscallions rollicked;
rendered ruinous ramifications.
Rusty razor razing revenge rented reprisal.
Rabid rectal rictus rotten
rebranded re-calibrated redoubt.
Rambunctious revolutionaries rejoiced.
Ruffians rode roughshod
routing reigning royalty.
Reiterated revetting robust recidivist rationality.
Rode Rolls Royce relentlessly
rendering rock ribbing.
Riffraff raconteur raised reactionary response.
Revisited rancorous restrictive
redlined realigned rightward rivets.
Robocop ridiculously
rubber-stamped reorganization.
Recalcitrant reactors released rapture.
Rash Russian roulette
reconnaissance raconteurs racked rubles.
Red room reflected Republican RNA.
Rap risible rheumy ratiocinated rug-rats
revoked righteous refulgent repertory.
Rapier robed robbers ransacked
reliquary resounding retaliation.
Retaliatory redcoat regnum
reformation remembered.
Rudy robotically recoiled rapprochement
raison d'être rosily revered
rifled relics raffled.
Rookie raves ripe rackful
rubenesque reliably ranked.
Refulgent rotundity requisite
requirement re: reappointment.
Road-tested, roadworthy
redeem reapportion routed role.
Reprehensible reassignment
rapidly recognizes response.
Rife rampage removed respectability – respect.
Responsible roused restitution refuted.
Risky resultant reconnoitering
runaway railroad reverberated rivalry.
Reflexive ramrod reaction reconfirmed
redoubling ridding revitalization.
Reconfiguration realpolitik reinstated repudiation
rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.
Requisition required resilient reseeding republic.
Regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing.
Rare recount restoring recondite
renown reprobate Rapunzel.
Republican representatives
rejoice reclaiming reins.
I-Robby
Robby had been married going on eight years,
2hen his Marie demanded a divorce,
whe had been planning, lawyering up,
and instantly dragged it into the court.
Poor Robby had not seen it coming,
he thought things had been going quite well,
he could barely deal with loosing his love,
much less navigating Family Court hell.
Worst still Marie had cleaned out their accounts,
so he had to borrow from his parents,
just to afford a junior lawyer,
in truth, Robby was unable to bear it.
Being separated from his two boys,
being along with no partner if life…
What could he have done to ever have earned
the enmity of his once loving wife?
The proceedings, they just kept dragging on,
and Robby faced insurmountable bills,
then one day Marie claimed that he’d hit her,
that his temper was always set to kill?!
Robby’s family gawked in disbelief,
their boy never even been in a fight,
they all tried to say the Marie had lied,
but she played the judge’s sympathies right.
Men don’t fare well in Family Courts,
in the end Rob lost near sixty percent,
add the that alimony, child support,
and no custody of his two children.
The young men felt his world crashing on down,
but the worst of it was yet to come,
Marie’s claims made their way up to his boss,
and within weeks, Rob’s position was gone.
When he told the judge he was out of work,
and his payments would have to be changed,
she said,”I’ll have to investigate this,
many dead-beats go to lengths to not pay.”
That dragged on for several long months,
and Robby was already long broke,
one morning a cop waited on his front door,
and with a sneer, glared at Robby and spoke:
“We have got a complaint that you have not
paid up on this month’s child support.
A warrant has been issued for your arrest,
I really hate dealing with your sort!”
He tried to explain his words with the judge,
but the officer really didn’t care,
dragged into court, Rob found the same judge,
glowering down at him from her chair.
“Your wife needs those payments to survive,
nut you seem to think this is a joke,
so you’re going to spend a week in jail,
and learn an important lesson, I hope.”
As to the judge’s biased nature,
Robby no longer had any doubts,
and none there knew that when he went away,
never more would he ever come out…
CONTINUES IN PART II.