Long Ripped off Poems
Long Ripped off Poems. Below are the most popular long Ripped off by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ripped off poems by poem length and keyword.
How Does it feel?
Being without you is like a wound that won't stop bleeding
An infectious yearning wanting & NEEDING
Like a band aid being ripped off without any warning
Like last call on Sunday night at 2 in the morning
Like a hollow hole in the ground that's infinite
Like wearing out your "good" sweats that no longer fit
Like your boss yapping on and on endlessly
Like a stubborn lock that won't open without its key
Like a Hail Mary pass with the game on the line
Like a dying friend who's running out of time
It's like when there's no toilet paper left when u already sat down
Like when everyone says "cheer up" when all u wanna do is frown
It's like BAD days when nothing ever goes right
It's feeling for your side of the bed every night
It's the projects you just haven't gotten to just yet
It's the taste of their lips that you will NEVER quitE
Forget
It's the mile long weekly to do list
It's like blowing out the candles but never getting your wish
It's like trying to stay as busy as possible with this or that
It's the CONSTANT feeling of this monkey on your back
It's like a criminal holding you against your will
It's the empty space in my heart that ONLY real love can fulfill
It's your part time job weather you want it or not
It's being wrapped in your arms and KNOWING what I got
It's the dreams of "Someday" that you cling to for dear life
It's the fantasy of becoming your future wife
It's that one mistake that your ashamed of and deeply regret
It's hoping you FEEL how much I LOVE u and that you never will forget
It's constant missing holidays and seasonal smiles
It's feeling your here within my heart despite thousands of miles
It's a deserted beach dark and desolite beneath the oceans tide
It's believing we are special and just going with the VIBES
It's the last scoop of your favorite ice cream
It's waking up sweating from the same creepy dream
It's a soul crushing NEED to feel you and hold you tight
It's like apologizing when deep down you Know your right
It's the eye of the storm just have to grab on and hold tight
It's tenacity and NEVER giving up without a FIGHT
It's pitch black darkness when u forgot a flashlight
It's the CERTAINTY when you KNOW you have FINALLY found your MR RIGHT
ITS seeing it al come to fruition and leading TOGETHER a HAPPY life
An enormous pole
made of chrome
A table set
Steve, knew he was home
With a tiny leather thong,
he swung around,
in a world he did belong,
with the rythm of the sound
Around he twirled,
faster and faster
The lights swirled
He was the master!
Stripclub Steve,
a legend of his own making
A master of the pole
There was no faking,
no by your leave
To win!
His only goal!
Word spread...
Far and wide
Stripclub Steve
To see him glide!
Such dazzling skill!
You would not believe!
Now, there were championships to be won
Stripclub Steve...
A man on a mission
A man with a loaded gun!
How he twirled
How he swirled
The chrome gleamed
The contest won?
Or so it seemed
But along came Desperate Annie
A girl with a most beautiful fanny
With her feminine charm,
it filled steve with alarm!
He tightened up his leather thong
Carefully patted it all in place
For this was the serious race!
For this Geordie lad...
The prize was to be had
So with an almighty effort of will,
he grasped the chrome
The crowd was still
With a nod to the judges,
the music commenced
Stripclub Steve was home,
the trophy in the bag
he sensed...
With a twirl here
and a twirl there
The crowd gave an almighty cheer
Stripclub Steve...
Was on air!
That chrome pole,
touched his very soul
It was in the bag
He did his best
Now it was up to the judges,
if he had passed the test
Two hundred hopefuls in town...
One hundred and ninety nine girls
Steve, the only man...
The talent to unfurl...
Could he take away the crown?
Now, Stripclub Steve is a Geordie lad...
There's prizes to be had
He waited with bated breath
Had he done enough to pass the test?
A unanimous decision!
Skill on the chrome!
Our boy Steve,
brought it home!
So there it was...
A legend in his own lifetime!
The trophy raised above his head!
With the crowd roaring,
he ripped off his leather thong
and sent it soaring!
Upwards it flew...
Like a leather bat
Down it came
and hit Desperate Annie,
right in the ****!
So let this be a lesson to all you blokes...
Stripclub Steve,
our man of the chrome
Brought it home!
So spare the jokes,
read this and believe!
17
the narrow path took a sudden turn
I pushed the main sail west
where tiny tugs push giant timbers
portside down shivering rivers
to the end of broken islands
and ravens who fall asleep
no more stealing noon day’s sun
havoc on the steel grey highway
I asked where to my friend
listen to the voice I pondered
every thought I overheard
across a midnight madness ocean
do not pay till two thousand five
among the smouldering fires
of rusted vacant castles
beached below a popular tide
of sentimental sediment
a land far away but not forgotten
18
red and white blue brickyard
mason masterpiece in gold
spires bold and towers clapping
to a moon swept melody above
tiny dots in tiny places
windmill arms are waving
watery graves say hello
to friend and stranger wandering
cloudy motives squandering
on orange day parades
the ripped off royal banner
every man’s soiled linen cover
red light sin of the fathers
mothers cry for daughters lost
my home and land of natives
took my childhood away
19
stand up I push some reason
speak the voice of knowledge soon
wisdom cries in pain
for the ears of man are suffering
silence drives his soul insane
paint the gesture gently
or scratch the surface mean
secret streams of unknown lovers
writing dusty letters in the sands
of time worn airborne trials
hastily drawn across a window
to hide the gossip eyes that stare
for want of intelligent care
pollute the shallow pools of laughter
the trough lies naked bare
I am only passing through I beckon
reckon hands might hold my voice
interrupt the bar code worship
tempting endless feast of fools
20
second hand books in second hand stores
recycled commentary on ages past
dead to weary travelers
who need to know what lies ahead
on the sweating stars in their bed
leave the portholes open
winds of doctrine blowing through
cleanse the green paved pastures
prepare a table in the wilderness
spirit river flowing mercy
feet that dance in tidal pools
harvest endless nights of joy
listen carefully to the evening minstrel
a song to carry me through
before I turn back again
to push the main sail east
My ideal love is a love that catches me by surprise.
The realization of intelligent things and conversations that literally take us anywhere.
My ideal love is a love that expresses ideal.
The ramifications that influence us to be who we really are in front of who we are.
A love that doesn't mind bargin shopping and putting together hundred dollar outfits that really cost $10.
The reality that its the most simplest of things that are most significant.
A spontaneous love that doesn't mind the predictability of living today before exploring the mystery of tomorrow.
Here after the after thought that we exist in the past as well as the present simultaneously.
If ever in need I'll do my best to provide all that I can for an ideal love.
Through these actions I believe the true miracle is achieved.
An ideal love that is beyond ideal.
Who sets the where and how we meet, the institutions of bliss where the masses are limited to love and longing.
To find patience and compassion sitting on the front lawn on the same institution.
As long as she provides a kiss that can send me outside of my own thoughts, and pull me closer to hers.
My ideal love wouldn't be based on a B.E.T movie.
A single expression that summarizes a scorned woman letting go.
A cliff note of lust soon as the next sceen fades to black.
Her panties pulled down not knowing the dude is secretly abusive.
140 minutes gone by to realize the last 5 mins were the ones that made her truly happy.
The woes of love.
My ideal love is a woman built with ambition but with a heart big enough to understand that without sacrifice nothing is truly accomplished.
A culture made in truth, ripped off by those who ignore that struggle is what makes us who we are.
The courage to walk out in front and be who we really are.
A real woman that doesn't mind lounging around the house that knows whom Budda and Huey Newton was.
This revolution of ideal starts the moment I realize that I never stood a chance.
The surprise of her lips against my cheek.
I drink from this remedy each time you open your lips.
So in silence I gasp.
As you caught me off guard,
My ideal love
All of us were there that day/
Yet not in the physical aspect,
It was a very spiritual notion/
Not some encounter from a heavenly omen,
Beneath the soil amidst a great gulf fix,
Some have become a bit transparent/
Perhaps a little cumbersome ?
While other's having claimed to experience all the fullness,
Little did they know that king's and queen's would all bow to thee,
Amidst the given turmoil of the unfortunate vast excursion !
Still in the garden that day they all fell asleep/
Yet still all of us were there,
When the roman solder's ripped off your beard !
Still some of us it's too hard to fathom it,
Some finding it to intense and a bit weird !
Having common passerby's spit in his face/
While still there were many angels in waiting to take vengeance on those,
Yet Jesus didn't choose that route of passage,
With no sense of remorse nor a common disgrace,
We were all their that day !
Even when beloved Mary your loving mother wept !
Fashioned with real tears for her son,
While they tore into his flesh !
Until there was nothing left but exposed bone,
When all the nails had mounted you to the rugged cross/
We all knew that this wasn't some tragic loss !
With words', "Father please forgive them for they know not what they do ?"
He said the prayer now the rest is up to you ?
We all had learned Lord what your beloved father really knew/
We were all there that day/
When after three days you suddenly rose from the grave !
Although still many had rejected you ?
The god of this world had blinded many eyes/
Does all of this come at some big surprise for it is written in the scriptures for our benefit ?
Lest they all should see and be healed,
For even Pilate had found no fault in thee,
Yet he gave into the crowds cry's and demands !
Having vicious fangs nor swollen teeth/
Which all gnash abruptly !
Having a fish dinner with Peter for breakfast/
The was fully after your grand exit,
We were all there that day/
Henceforth, even to this present moment in time,
Today, everything we pray for we can all visualize you being there,
For we were all their that day !
Johnny Thunders… Room 37.
John Anthony Genzale JR, a man that did the drugs and booze,
Not only born to live but ultimately born to lose.
Born in fifty two he loved the game of baseball,
But would never cut his hair that was his little league downfall….
That and his bad dad, but Johnny Volume would soon rule..
Along with the Jaywalkers at Quintano High School.
Then in sixty eight he would go to Fillmore East,
At a bar called "Nobody"'"s"on Bleeker Street
He would learn to drink his Bourbon ice so neat.
Then he was a sales clerk at the Da Nazz Leather Shop,
He would meet some future Dolls, then they were the "Actress"'"s."
But it was just a whistle stop..
Renamed Johnny Thunders after a comic book of the same name,
The New York Dolls were formed
His life would never be the same…
Two critically acclaimed Albums
"The New York Dolls" "Too much too soon"
But both commercially void,
Not enough to buy a Coke spoon..
In seventy five the Dolls broke up
Those trash glams all with attitude ,
Even bands today look back
With nothing but hard rock gratitude.
Johnny then formed The Heartbreakers ,released one brilliant LP
Los Angeles Mother F@kers
Know as L.A.M.F.
What an album I do decree…
Though I still love "So Alone"
A solo of such class..
He drifted here and there,
Then it was alas…
He lasted till nineteen ninety one,
His heroin a complete addiction..
But his death it was a mystery
There should have been a murder conviction!
Many rumours surround his death, I do suspect foul play.
St Peters House Hotel, New Orleans, such a great cliché.
Gangster dealers gave him LSD
Ripped off his Methadone supply..
Pretty sure they killed him,
Such a sad goodbye.
His room number was thirty seven,
It was ransacked of all his possessions,
What is known for certain,
Is there has never been no confessions..
"You can"t put your arms around a memory,
Don"t try don"t try..
You"'re just a bastard kid
And you got no name
Cause you"re living with me
We"re one and the same."
Nice one Johnny..
Sadly missed.
Form:
Dry rotted benches all splintered and frail.
Transparent spirits fill the isles and the air.
In the old decrepit church they try to stay seated,
while the Malicious Eulogy is hellaciously completed.
Out in the graveyard down below, the Demons arise.
The howls of anger, the growls of damnation,
pierce the dark night like deadly cries.
As they rise from their tombs, the earth starts to split.
The ground shreds apart like a deep fiery pit.
They enter the church, the spirits gather round.
For they are the Bastards to the God of the Underground.
Their hideous faces stare upon the evil crowd.
The spirits stay silent, they dare not make a sound.
One by one they approach the Black Altar,
bowing before the horned image of their Father.
Behind them stands a pillar carefully balancing her coffin.
Her body lies still, her soul knows not what's coming.
As the fiends turn to surround her death bed,
each one places a sprig of Nightshade neatly around her head.
They feel her naked body, her skin's so pale and cold.
Her virgin soul is what they crave, to them it's as precious as gold.
The funeral is over, no one even cried.
The ceremony begins, Satan's about to take his Bride.
His sons proudly look on as the gates of Hell open wide.
Satan rises to her coffin, his sons go to his side.
He gazes at her beauty, to him it's such a shame,
but his hunger for her virginity defeats him, he's really not to blame.
He covers like a cloud of darkness as lightning strikes the church.
Her soul has left her body, yet her body the Demons will search.
One son tore her heart out, another ripped off her head.
They all feasted on her flesh, their hungers are finally fed.
The maiden stands next to her groom with an evil grin on her face,
Satan smiles back at her, certain the body and soul cannot be traced.
The Demons are done feeding now as their mouths drip with blood.
The ritual is over now for she has united as one.
Her soul is his to flourish on for all eternity,
and it all started with one Malicious Eulogy.
One Word #6
Word: Dream
Dream, Noun, Contemplate the possibility of doing something or that something might be the case
If I were to simply race forward without another thought,
Would you reach out for me and pull me back in your embrace?
Tell me that I don’t know what I’m doing and that’s it’s useless,
Every time that I attempt to give a chase.
A white dress on my frame and on the picture frame,
With a bouquet of sunflowers and felicia daisies dancing in my hands.
I wonder if I were to walk through a field aimlessly,
Would I make it to the ocean’s pale sands?
Of course not, that’s just another dream I’ve made up,
You were the one to shut that down without another thought.
Without thinking about my own repercussions,
I shut down my own dreams, the ones I’ve so long sought.
“It just doesn’t make any sense,” So instead of trying,
I’ll just throw away these words I’ve tried to make for you.
I was hoping, praying, one day they’d make it to you,
But the train has already passed me by; there’s nothing else to do.
With dreams shattered into many little pieces, I continue on autopilot,
Wondering when I’ll eventually run out of fuel and stop running.
On that day, in the fields, I wonder if I could return to that,
Just another bright day with the wind blowing and sun shinning.
I know this is nothing more than a cliche ripped off the screen,
A drama that will surely have it’s ups and downs.
But of course, that’s all I’m about, isn’t it?
Just nothing more than false words that drift and constant frowns.
But if I were to choose to live on my dreams and feed on reality,
Would you support me with a cheer, a revere of your words?
For right now, I need to sleep and make more dreams for myself,
And escape to where the water flows and the sky is full of blue birds.
If I were to simply race forward without another thought,
I’m sure, this time, that you would bring me back in your embrace.
Tell me that there’s a wide world out there and satisfy me,
So I no longer have to run to my dreams and give chase.
Face fractured with fear
As the Taxi drew near
The building was in the next street
" I'll drop you off here"
Said Steve full of cheer
(Annoyingly rather upbeat.)
As you pushed on the door
It's sticky hinge hissed
And you drew in your breath
At the scent of 'dentist'
"Youre a little late" the lady said
Do you live somewhere rural ?
You swigged on your hip flask
Looked her right in the eye, saying
"Just get me an epidural."
"Now now Mrs Phillips
You'll be just fine "
Said the lady so white and starched
And into the chamber of old magazines,
You were unceremoniously marched.
With Your heart like a piston
And blood pressure soaring
(Even " Horse and Hound" seemed
Tired and boring )
Lulled by a clock counting out every second,
Till you started with fright
As a dental nurse beckoned ...
"Please don't worry, don't be so tense "
Said Helga ( on work experience )
And then with sinister gravity
Said "We'll take care of that cavity "
"Hello" boomed a voice from the back of the room,
I'm here to do your extraction. I've done them before so no need to shake,
Look at me if you need a distraction "
"This won't take a second, it's all pretty simple
Just a couple of jabs and we're there "
So first with your right fist and then with your left,
He was out cold, on the floor, by your chair.
You ripped off your bib, took a swig of the pink
And suddenly feeling much better,
You lunged for the door and ran down the stairs
As fast as a sprightly red setter.
You ran to a sweet shop and asked for some toffee
"Give me the chewiest stuff that you've got"
"Sure said the assistant , this one's from Yorkshire
And here, you can have the lot "
You took of the wrappers and stuffed it all in
Then chewed like a donkey on acid
And in a few seconds, the tooth that was hurting
Left a hole as big as Lake Placid.
So what is the moral
I hear you all ask
Of this tale both of triumph and sorrow ?
Well forget your insurance, leave your cheque book at home,
Just unwrap and chew on a toffo
She Woke up Pregnant
She started out like any other weekday on her way to school,
Excited about the award she won for her poem titled "Nobodies fool".
Now her poem was about her struggles from the environment she was in,
There was no way she'd be stereotyped, and no way she would amount to nothing.
This strong black queen at the age of fourteen refused to become a statistic,
Though her world was full of pain and strife, she couldn't help to feel afflicted.
But she rose every morning, looked herself in the mirror, and promised to endure,
She'd brush her teeth, check her homework, eat breakfast, and walk out the door.
On this particular day to school, she decided to take a detour,
Thru the alley, under the bridge, a path she'd never taken before.
She hurried thru the route she took, for it was unfamiliar,
Oblivious to the hooded man in the mask that was out to get her.
He came up from behind and placed his arm around her neck,
He told not to scream for that'll be something she'd regret.
He dragged her to the roof that's where he tied her to the fence,
Ripped off her clothes, put his hand on her mouth, and stole her innocence.
Thru it all she reflected on her poem "nobodies fool",
How could she have gotten here, she felt somewhat responsible.
Now I'm the fool she thought to herself for getting in this position,
Why did I choose this path to school, why couldn't I've chosen different.
Now here I lie on this cold wet roof not knowing if I'll survive,
I hope that when he's finished he'll decide to spare my life.
"Are you ok", Are you ok, was the next thing that she heard,
It was six months later when she opened her eyes, looking up at the nurses and doctors.
You're a very lucky young lady is what the doctor told her next,
You were smashed in the head with a brick, and stabbed 3 times in your chest.
It was touch and go on the operating table, but there's one thing that's significant,
We were able to save you and your fetus we saved to, you are now at six months pregnant.