Long Rioting Poems
Long Rioting Poems. Below are the most popular long Rioting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rioting poems by poem length and keyword.
The same people who demand I put that mask over my face
are the same ones who lift sieves from borders.
Inviting sludge +slag along with the gold.
The ones with no respect for law and order.
The same ones that demonize all police.
The same ones who close an ocean.
The same ones who claim they can stop rioting with a hug.
Broiling the soul of the country for optics and blood ratings.
The same ones that release violent inmates.
Into society to protect them from the flu.
The same ones that are defacing Honest Abe.
The same ones that use retirement homes
as halfway houses for rapists and drug addicts.
The same ones that rip toilets from their mansions,
to avoid paying taxes-all the while raising mine...
That's why you can bet your blue "regressive" behind
That my thumb will be turning red come November.
Opinions
(“everyone has a couple,
and like armpits they usually stink”)
By: Tom
November 21, 2020
I’ve never seen our nation in such great divide,
rioting in the streets has become a common thing.
Some burn our flag, having no sense of pride,
others bus in protesters to continue their fling.
Rioters march in common, with police held at bay,
for those demolishing statues I’ve contempt, not pity.
But truth be known, looters want things their way,
they seek to change history of many a great city.
The First Amendment is our voice’s source,
but rioting of any kind should beget extreme force.
My teeth walked down the stairs today
Molar stepped on aluminum and I yelled “hey!”
They were rioting to protest the new floss.
I rolled my eyes; after all, I am the boss!
My mouth tried to speak but nothing came out
Not whisper, a gurgle, a cough or a shout.
My teeth snickered; a sassy incisor cheered.
They were gaining momentum as I had feared!
My tongue gave me a wagging; I heard not a word.
Those damn teeth had made my face feel absurd.
My teeth began dancing, in the night, in the street.
To a crazy, happy, sensual reggae beat.
How to get them back? What would I have to do?
I promised them the moon, and new floss too….
They (the they) suffocated the entire world.
For profit, they inflated the COVID death numbers.
Covered our faces, made us inhale our sins.
They've locked us down, kept us caged.
But they still allow themselves to play.
(The they) encourage "soft" rioting but close churches.
Alienated us from our own skin.
8 billion people chained up by a few.
(The tiny ringmaster controlling the 500 lb. tiger
with meager bits and mental whips).
The tiger is growing wise.
He has brighter stripes and a fresh set of eyes.
He'll soon come off his polka dot circus stool.
Don his shiny new stripes and have a mighty swipe.
Devouring, then saving the bits and the whip for laughs.
This once nation of peace and calm, lies close to chaos and anarchy
It's Government will be in struggle, imploding indefinitely
What gives a person the right to carry a gun on to our streets
When challenged by the police, they can't accept their greet
Knowing they are totally wrong, some can't even admit defeat
Community drums now sound, then the morons take to our streets
These little sheep from hours earlier, turn rabid in bravado show
Turning on who can not defend themselves, as their manic strife grows
Businesses that survived two wars, are engulfed in a matter of hours
It's time to pass new laws, enforce to the full their powers
How many of the arrested have jobs, mortgages and families to feed
Yet they plunder the lives of others, to fill their moronic greed
They even try to help the injured, then decide to rob him as well
Society once again turns violent, as the media show and tell
Days of rioting abound, whilst the moronic multitudes grow
Is Anarchy their cry, many couldn't spell it I'll let you know
In a few days it will be over, families and businesses torn
I wait in anticipation, for the next calm before the storm
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/political-and-society.php
Sharing Morning Thoughts
By: Miracle Man
August 16, 2020
Relationships between close friends are changing,
businesses are closing or hours rearranging.
No visits, no hugs, no shaking of the hand,
for months, Corona fear, has gripped the land.
We arise each morning facing our daily tasks,
and when in public, encouraged to wear masks.
The most vulnerable are asked to self quarantine,
watching life turn brown, remembering it green.
We can’t take as truth much of what we see or hear
Our country is no longer what we once held dear.
Rioting and looting have become commonplace,
but at the end is a judgment that all must face.
Romans 14:12 (KJV)
12 “So then every one of us shall give account of himself to God.”
How the police acted was a terrible thing
to that unsuspecting citizen named Rodney King.
What they did on that video was definitely not right.
I don’t blame you for getting up to fight.
This incident has caused rioting through the night.
Well, we are no strangers to states of war.
My family had to endure it some two generations before.
They all went through a living hell
when those communists crossed the thirty-eighth parallel.
After the fighting stopped, they left Seoul, Korea.
My mother and father settled down here in America.
They opened a store right here in Los Angeles.
We have been living decently because of this.
If you try to loot my store, I give you fair warning.
We will defend our property all night until morning.
Attempt it, and your soul will be bound for heaven.
I will give you a taste of my Magnum three fifty-seven.
We can take care of ourselves. It won’t be hard
There is no need for the police or National Guard.
Do you know what we can do to any foolish lummox?
We can have you shipped to Pyongyang in a pine box.
JOHN FRANCIS LYONS: A BROTHERS LOVE NEVER TOLD HIM THAT I LOVED HIM
I thank you John
For being there
You took me here
Took me there
You faired for me
I reverence you
But, I never told you I loved you
When races collided
We were besided, together
Like true brothers
You respected me
I respected you
You were the one who introduced me to
(pizza's, Chinese foods,)
I thank you John
For being there
You took me here
Took me there
You faired for me
I reverence you
In grade school you walked me there
First day of kindergarten you were there
We collected comic books, model cars and rockets
Role playing games before they were created
I never told him I loved him
He wasn't a friend, he was more than a friend
my brothers name was John Francis Lyons
But, I never told you I loved you
When races collided
We were besided, together
Like true brothers
You respected me
I respected you
I thank you
We were nine month apart
You were part of my heart
We represented what races should
Act
The different color of our skins
Didn't mean anything
During the times of racial discord and rioting
I had my brother John Francis Lyons
I thank you John
For being there
You took me here
Took me there
You faired for me
I reverence you
Please Lord I pray he's there
In heaven with you and his wife Donnelda
Their son Christopher and niece Theresa
I have already forgiven those men who killed them
The different color of our skins
Didn't mean anything
During the times of racial discord and rioting
We were nine month apart
You were part of my heart
We represented what races should
Act
I thank you John
For being there
You took me here
Took me there
You faired for me
I reverence you
I never told him I loved him
Yes we were of different fathers and mothers
were of a difference race and color
He wasn't a friend, he was more than a friend
my brothers name is John Francis Lyons
11/28/17
Dedicated to MY BROTHER: JOHN FRANCIS LYONS
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
Potent grief exists in the paternoster
recited by exiles each break of dawn —
and they never cease to mourn with drums.
Exiles are men
with two lives,
and they often fast,
preferring to sip gently the treacly sap
dripping from the eyes of fortitude.
Riding the thin line
of the horizon,
they seek truths underneath
receding rims of the atmosphere —
the truths
of a desolated homeland
atrophied by distance.
They do not pray
only to return home,
but to meet their mothers’ funerals —
Mothers harassed to death
by ruthless authorities
whose diaries speak of languor.
How do pirates with their eye patches
count the stars,
and how do feathers of thinning clouds
react to the invasion of rioting storms?
Exiles are native drummers
gone for a festivity yonder.
Like the dead, they live in the
hearts of those who truly love them.
Donald Trump has 306 electoral votes and Hillary Clinton has 232.
Hillary's supporters are causing violence and that is a lousy thing to do.
Her supporters claimed that Trump's supporters would cause violence if he lost.
Now Hillary's supporters are doing the exact same thing because they're crossed.
This hasn't been like an election, it has been like a circus.
Trump won fair and square and the rioting and violence fill me with disgust.
Google and CNN are hiding the fact that Donald Trump won the popular vote as well as the electoral.
But with 74 more electoral votes than Hillary, it's not surprising and this violent behavior is immoral.
Because of Trump's Triumph, Hillary's supporters are having a fit.
Trump won the election and the rioters need to grow up and get over it.