Long Rhetoric Poems
Long Rhetoric Poems. Below are the most popular long Rhetoric by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rhetoric poems by poem length and keyword.
A critical ally that rears and screams,
Only to extend this metaphysical play.
Where time becomes both friend and foe,
And when a shortfall leads to delay.
Realistically, the battleground is for truth,
That is far beyond the politically correct.
Where the roots of such a grand deceit,
Can be pulled & torn apart, not used to deflect.
While the illusion is indefensible, soldiers
Dig-in with offensive rhetoric they announce.
As if a child, throwing sticks and stones,
Can find some victory, while they denounce.
This conflict is simply a war of words . . .
Although explosions grow as they employ.
Yet when the carnage is looked upon in the
Aftermath, did the damage also destroy?
If we view this dramatic tragedy, with open
Eyes and critical thinking, utmost . . .
We just might rebuild this fragile democracy,
And avoid an antiquated, republican provost.
He would stand atop his soap box,
yelling his sermon to the crowd.
He’d thump his chest and strut along,
go anyplace he was allowed.
He found it hard to understand,
ignorant people in this land.
So engrossed in their own interest,
not seeing the problems at hand.
He would use social media,
or the water cooler to shout.
Opinions on the border wall,
and what climate change was about.
He’d preach his rhetoric into,
the minds of any who were near.
He would scream about gun control,
how the end of freedom was here.
But that was yesterday my friends,
I think he finally understands.
Cause today he got the X-rays,
now he prays for God's helping hand.
The Buffalo church, it is implodin'
Rhetoric flarin', parishes unloadin'
We're good enough to give, but have no say in votin'
You don't believe in division, but what's that decree your totin'
You fired our trustees and now you're gloatin'
But you tell me over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
Don't you understand what we're tryin' to say?
And can't you feel the fears we're feelin' today?
If the buildings gone, many souls will drift away
How you gonna save them before they reach the grave
Take a look around you, oye, it's bound to scare you, oye
And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
Yeah, we are so mad, about this devastation
We're sittin' here just contemplatin'
Yes you claim your truth, but twist your regulations
Handful of prelates don't pass legislation
And merging alone can't bring integration
When parishioner respect is disintegratin'
This Die-or-Cease is just too frustratin'
And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
Think of all the hate there is against religion
Then take a look around to that which you are creatin'
Ah, you may go on retreat, for days of grace
But when you return, it's the same old place
The flappin' of the gums, the pride Mass of disgrace
You can bury your deeds, but don't leave a trace
Close our next door parish, tell us how we rate
And tell me over and over and over again, my friend
You don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
No, no, you don't believe we're on the eve of deconstruction
The world was silent as they died
The victims of a genocide
Armenian blood considered cheap
Dehumanized, their wounds cut deep
Starvation in a desert land
A naked, bleeding, hopeless band
The relocation just a ruse
A Death March of rampant abuse
Few decades later, Hitler said,
“Forgotten are Armenian dead.
Perhaps I too can do the same,
for who remembers them by name?
I’ll kill the Jews, yes, every one!
The world can’t stop me till I’m done!”
Another genocide took place
For Jews, no favor, mercy, grace.
These horrors haunt humanity
But who can stop insanity?
Now Jews are on the killing side
They claim it’s not a genocide
Poor Gaza has no wailing wall
the bomb blasts made the strongest fall,
and wailing’s heard on ravaged streets
where children lie in bloodied sheets
From rubble rises stifled cries
a mother dies with open eyes
her arms still clutching baby tight
while blasts light up the Gazan night.
A father faints beside the grave
of children whom he could not save
And those who manage to survive
Must fight for food to stay alive
Though Israel forgot its past,
the truth of what they’ve done will last.
The word they use? Retaliate!
The proper word? Annihilate!
Get rid of every single one
The work of vengeance must be done
A freedom fighter? Terrorist?
The slaughtered ones can’t answer this.
Instead of useless rhetoric
Protect the dying, wounded, sick
Wake up and stop this savagery
Please do it for humanity!
No matter what my choice of word,
I grieve for those who died, unheard
I groan with shame for what I see
The death of human dignity
To you who did not raise you voice,
Who claimed you really had no choice,
one day the genocide will be
of loved ones in your family
Before you go down to the grave
Cry out for someone’s help to save
But silence will reverberate
For lesson learned was learned too late
When your life bleeds out on the ground
The world will watch without a sound.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
You have no need to fear me,
I need not come.
The eventuality of your demise
lies well within your greed born lies.
Desire for land, wealth and power
spoils everything as it sours.
At first the words spill forth
stern rhetoric and ill retorts.
Then befalls the famine, war and death
while lies and accusations spew from your breath.
Some close their eyes and pretend
this is just a turning point around the bend.
It is the inner circle that knows
that truth is full of hate and loathing undisclosed.
There is no need to fear Armageddon's prophecy
you are your own destroyers defeated by hypocrisy.
You have no need to fear me,
I need not come.
They were to meet in middle of the mall
He clearly misunderstood... his downfall
If there had been some writing on the wall
This fight might not have happened at all
Unsure of what to wear or where to look
It's important to give more than he took
He seemed caught like a fish on a hook
His life story could be a comic book
He remembered everything that he could
Wanting to make amends for this, he would
Deep in his heart of hearts he knew he should
Would giving her the moon do any good?
Not his best day, if you know what I mean
Not a first mistake or last to be seen
Clearly, he committed to coming clean
He secretly wished to be somewhere serene
August 22, 2018
Litany of Poetic Devices
By Line Gauthier
1. Consonance;
2. Oxymoron;
3. Truism;
4. Internal Rhyme;
5. Homophones;
6. Idiom;
7. Simile;
8. Metaphor;
9. Tautology;
10. Hyperbaton;
11. Metonymy;
12. Rhetoric Question;
13. Innuendo;
14. Aphorism;
15. Alliteration;
16. Euphony
Democrats
Republicans
All sycophants on ritalin
I’m tired of this rhetoric
I’m sick of it (IM SICK OF IT)
We have a million choices
But you all stick with two
Picking all the pedophiles
Wearing red or blue
Free will is dead and I don’t care
Let it burn, let it burn
But you all wouldn’t dare
A brand new start is needed
Cuz y’all are too conceited
We have a million choices
But you all stick with two
Picking all the pedophiles
Wearing red or blue
Anarchy? Necessity
Picking off the scabs
Leave the land in ashes
Leave it up for grabs
We have a million choices
But you all stick with two
Picking all the pedophiles
Wearing red or blue
Loitering
isn't idyllic imaginations
facilitating fastidious, fertile fellowship flings
evolving evidentiary elusive elucidations
safely securing surreal sterile sways.
Mysteries mismanaging mundane miracles
yield yes, you, your youthful yesterdays
slip, stir, select sagacious serendipitious sphericals
titillating time's turbulent today-tomorrow titrations
eagerly evoking efficacious emancipated equai euphonies
resurrected, reinvigorated remedial rhetoric rectifications
illuminating impartial improvised immunities,
ease earnestly, empathetic eloquent ejections
sanctifying succinct, suspended sanitifications.
A word take on Presidential ins and outs, the why and how of Life's Mysteries
in the mind of unnamed parties.
For LIFEs Mysteries Contest sponsored by John Hamilton
Is life a psychological and spiritual mess, a being of dismay and chaos,
Misdirected and confused by those of staunch and unwavering bios,
Might have started on a farm, urban home, corporate office, or a college dorm,
Looking for devotees to accept vague ideologies and philosophies like their own?
They stirred up vast doubt, skepticism, uncertainty, distrust, and questions of all kind,
Than principles that would guide, direct, shepherd, shape, and lead to soundness of mind,
That would bring peace and harmony; a grand way of life that is healthy and whole,
You lost focus; you lost courage; you lost hopefulness; you lost confidence; you lost your soul.
Did you cast your life upon that which is destined to disappoint, miss the mark and fail,
And empty rhetoric your buddies constantly and relentlessly wailed,
Or upon that which is eternally and everlasting faithful and true,
That if you accepted, you would be called a laughingstock, a fool, or thinking askew?
Is your mosaic spiritual conceptions satisfying your deep need way down inside,
Is your soul a graffiti wall or a spiritual guide to be applied,
Is your soul just shattered by confusion and has left you empty and cold,
A splattering of abstract work than one of realism or anything worthy to behold?
When facing a fierce raging storm in your mind and heart while dejected, fearful, and forlorn,
Did you go to philosophy, self-help books, or to one who could still the storm?
Do you know the one who can speak to the tempestuous seas and they obey him?
Ever heard of the one who walked on water and could calm the hearts of troubled men?
Let me introduce you to that one who can do for you what you cannot do for yourself.
Learn of him by reading the scriptures, the Bible, find it on many a shelf.
His name is Jesus Christ, Son of God; He and God the Father of the same mind.
Through faith-obedience in Jesus, end of your search for redemption; seek and you will find.
Tired Muscles, Cortexually Speaking
Straining against the ice-cold rhetoric-
Spewing from a winter of discontent; alive
Only because statues never die, they just
Spout specious diatribes from the halls of
Congress, under glaring tv lights; illuminating
Lascivious lip-smacking gargoyled journalists
Intent on destruction, in any way, at every
Opportunity, America....but I did promise a
Thaw! it was the prelude title before the title
Of this penumbras poem...
I need only look outside, to the nearby tree-line
Tubes snaking thru the maple trees, yes! a
Sugarbush!
Nature is real, statues are not!
My spirit seeks joy
I know where to look, vaya con dios...