Long Rip off Poems
Long Rip off Poems. Below are the most popular long Rip off by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rip off poems by poem length and keyword.
Behind that screen you are waiting to hear
“My dear, please confess. Why do you fear?”
My body burning and my soul bound for hell
“Do hear me now, my confession’s a spell.”
“I confess, I love you more than I should
I confess, near you... I cannot be good
I confess, for you, caution’s thrown to the wind
I confess, in my mind with you I have sinned
I confess, I want you with obsessive need
I confess, my whole being to you I concede
I confess, I want NOW to have my own way
I confess, I mean to undress here today"
I press naked breasts against latticed screen
I want to ensnare him in this lover’s dream
I hear breathing quicken; I start to shake
"Oh, darling, believe me, you’re about to quake"
I confess, this longing drives me insane
I confess, desire burns in my vien
I confess, your slave, I’ll do what you please
I confess, I want to tempt you and tease
I confess, your name is burned on my skin
I confess, I intend your soul to win
I confess, I’m willing each rule to break
I confess, I’m trying your passion to wake
Only now, in this room, hushed and serene
Come press against me, your fantasy queen
Hear my confession; purge my desire
Remove this screen; give in to the fire
Others are waiting to come and confess
But now I’m here…hush and rip off my dress
Your eyes aglow, you've been wanting to taste
Throw down your robe, for I cannot be chaste."
Confessional booth rocks to muted screams
Flames rise from the doors from enacted dreams
Later, I leave...not absolved from my sin
Oh, the sweet triumph in my wicked grin
Eileen Manassian Ghali
We might have lost a couple battles
But We’re still here to fight the war
All these soldiers fighting and they
Don’t know who they’re gunning for
And the killings indiscriminate
Shooting at civilians
Laughing as they murder
Cause they never heard of discipline
And there isn no longer in control
When the protesters hung for treason
They’ve took the reigns now
So wave bye-bye to your freedoms
But the last rebels never died
And we’re coming back for more
Now with bigger cannons
Since we witnessed atomic dawn
And the futures not so bright
When we’re killing for our country
Bombing on civilians
Who are dying cause they’re hungry
And too me
Its kind of crazy man
That the rats will fight each other
And not rip off the feeders hand
And see me?
I’m sick of this existence
And if you’re angry too
Stand and let’s form our own resistance
And my belief in God
It is now diminished
This is the final chapter
I am finally finished.
The living to themselves gossip attract,
but at death eulogies mitigate lies.
Love and care from he who breathes is withdrawn,
but his slumber does attract parties.
Fake mourners with feigned tears in burials act.
They rip off and use the grieving as pawns;
Their loss is their gain, their tears their laughter.
To fill their stomachs, they sob and flatter,
as they to misery dance, from dusk till dawn.
Whilst alive, at my deeds everyone frowns.
But at death, I am a departed 'saint'
whose sepulcher you spray with costly paint.
If you must celebrate me, do so now.
Do not in reverence to my casket bow.
Visit me now in my ramshackle house,
sharply rebuke me if you have a grouse.
Do as much you can to show you love me,
do not when I sleep go on bended knee.
Never belatedly show your respect
by attending my funeral in retrospect.
I've many times wished to see into the souls of an LA swat team.
When trigger after trigger spells the end of mother's nurse dreams.
And lives of light scatter.
I too have wished to see the inner spirits of such soldiers that could kill their
mirror likeness for a South African Banker.
That could kiss the face of Jeus for thirty pieces of God.
That could sit on the supreme court of this United States, look God right in the
eye, and vote against a brother gettin' a chance.
That could take a woman by the hair, rip off her pants, and prove his slave
owning manhood through the savage theft of innocence.
See, I've many times wished to see into the souls of an LA swat team that can
look growing hopes in the face and squeeze them life less.
I've stared, horrified, into my own cowardice and insecurity.
I can empathize with the souls of gangsters, I see what demons bask in the glory
of brethren.
What security is payment enough to suck freedom so far from the reach of God's
children.
People always talk about bleeding hearts.
But I wish that maybe instead of having revivals with step-stows that Christain
ministries would go to LAS put the cross in front of a Swat Team and ask them
why?
Do you take such pleasure in clasping shackles on your brethren.
And when the guns dropped, tears began to flow, and numbed spirits began to
sing their sorrows of blind obedience.
We could once again lock hands and tell whatever thief sits behind the 35 story
buildings, the world-wide financial network, virtual emotion a,d Fox Television to
go back to hell, cause we ain't buyin it!!
He was clearly a child of evil and schooled with a single task to eviscerate people in the name of greed. The attendees were clearly frozen and the
speaker was well trained to tantalize his audience with his words and the tone of his voice. There is merit to being a questioner because the human mind can easily be pulled into the consuming vortex of expert rip-off artists. I was fortunate enough to be with a friend who is an expert discerner of fraud who
prepared me to beware of such lest I also be compelled to take the plunge into his whirlpool of deception.
Even I, a virtual novice at dividing liars from truth-tellers and separating goats from sheep became curious within 5 minutes of his speech. His promises had the smell of being fallacious, and too few of us were none the wiser having eyes able to see every color but scarlet.
The speaker skillfully used the movements of his hands and body language which easily hid the pathway to his heart. When his speech was over, the long line formed to shake the hands of a charismatic genius. He was by far a crafty and skillful bewilder of the lowest kind.
06192018PSContest, 8-Word Challenge, John Hamilton
(Judged 7"A Poem NA'd In A July Contest", Broken Wings
(Rhyme)
T'was the night of Thanksgiving,and I couldn't just fall asleep
I tried everything I knew,even trying to count some dumb sheep,
But nothing happened and I was getting more angry and mad at myself,
The leftovers were still on my mind and my stomach went just bleat!
I jumped over my bed and I raced to the door with all my power and might,
And right in the kitchen I landed,where some food was still on sight,
My heart beat it so fast like a train gone bad,when I saw all the turkey leftover galore,
White and dark meat were waiting there just for me, to my profounded delight!
There was cranberry sauce,apple pie and the most wonderfully sweet, pumpkin pie!
My heart aglowed and my mouth watered all over in front of all this sight,
For there I saw some chocolate pudding just sitting upon a tray,
So I gobbled and gobbled, till I thought I couldn't see another new day!
I felt myself swelling up all the sudden, right to the size of the house!
Then I heard this terrible noise,and I've just burst and rip off my blouse!
As I went off straight to the ceiling like a Speeding Gonzalez balloon!
I felt again so sick and so big as I went flying right past the face of the moon
But I still managed to YEEELLL to everyone in the whole town,
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!and pass me all your chocolate PUDDING! Please!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka laydp2000
copyright@2005
November, 27,2014
On these cold bitter bleak afternoons when the sun sets , the sky turns to a dark but mysterious shade of blue .
As I look through my small window I look up to the moon and I'm instantly reminded of you .
The elegance of its shine warms my heart , fills it with the sweet melodies hoping that these memories of you never depart .
I know it's hard to believe but I've fallen from the start;
like a shooting a star, since back in highschool before everything fell apart .
All the way to when we were playing mario kart up in your living room , my heart sang a different tune.
I got lost in the notes but some how I always chart back to you ,
if I fall and the place turns into dark the light still shining on you .
One of my favorite memories is when we went to that park and wrote our names on the trees
but like the trees and autum leaves , if you leave and rip off the bark
you'll see just like the bark your names been written in my heart .
Form:
a house abandoned
walls caved in
the windows no panes
and the floors creek
yet still a spark of beauty
flawed and few
nothing inbetween
i stay reflecting on the past…
it used to be thriving
full of life
kids playing, people residing
the memories the walls hold
indents of several souls
the history of not one but two,
i take a step back
a dark shadow sweeps through
i slowly watch the rug unroll
its clearer now,
a story unfolds
the faint echo of screaming
and the vision of blood shot eyes gleaming
tear stained curtains rip off the wall
the cracks aren’t just age,
they’re scars, i withdrawal
the hands of man destroyed her beauty
left her falling apart, while neglecting his duty’s
i can’t help but think
she’s stayed so strong throughout the years
still standing tall despite hers scars and constant fear
but,
she’s abandoned now, all withered and torn
at the hands of a man she once adorned
but beneath the surface her foundation stayed strong
it’s the beauty within that’s made her last this long.
I promise I can
I can make you rich, give me fifty quid
I can help you sleep, just turn on my vid
I can change your sex life, NOT LIKE THAT!
I can make your teeth straight and delouse your cat
I can help you grow as a person, and a boss
I can make so carefree, you’ll never give a toss
I can make you happy, and live a contented life
I can help (you know what) to satisfy your wife
I can explain the power of attraction, and use the universe
I can help you live forever, you’ll never need a hearse
I can help you slim, you’ll be skinny as a rake
I can help your lips look bigger, but you’ll never look fake
I can give a business plan, where your company will explode
I can take you to the next level, help you cross that road
I can build your website, with a lovely landing page
I can rip you off, by promising your will never age
They sing their own songs
In the spirit of light.
No, they do not take credit for that.
Nor, do they drain under dust and disdain
That suffers hollow minds.
They compose their verses in the wind
And revel at their spirits’ charm, or so as it seems.
They inspire dance in a dragonfly,
Touch in a bee, or a butterfly.
And quiver not at the bleat of a goat.
They do not complain, nor do they seek---
Attention, that spoil ribbons of love.
They bury moments in pure delight,
Unlike men that lose sight of purpose.
And coil under their own vulnerabilities.
They do not fantasize their own glory
Nor live a lie that do not define them.
They swell in pride with pure submission,
That, for man, would take years to fathom
As deliberate apprehensions rip off their minds.
They sing their verse, unheard, unsung
Revel, in the breast of Mother Earth.
They feel Her beat, Her heat, and in sweet surrender
Submit to the gallows of Time.
Though hated, sometimes scorned, undervalued
for their power to produce and reproduce.
For encroaching unknown territories,
Yet they don't complain, for they know
Love is for all and they are no exception.