Long Rogue Poems
Long Rogue Poems. Below are the most popular long Rogue by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rogue poems by poem length and keyword.
See me
I’m here… right here
Why won’t you see me?
I wrote the most beautiful story
I guess you’ll never hear it
It wasn’t about you… well maybe a little about you
Ok the whole damn thing
I can not do this anymore
Revolving around you
An unbalanced moon orbiting
Your rogue planet
Hurtling unchecked through space
Wow, I might of laid the space cliches on a bit thick
But, aren’t we all cliches
Running over…nope not going to say it
We have all been here before
Dealt with the same sh**…baggage…unresolved karma
Issues
Tears, sweat and blood streaking our bodies for the ones we love
Isn’t that just like us humans to turn something
So pure and giving
Limitless without boundaries
Into a token we selfishly hoard
We lock it away in a box
Our fear of it’s loss, paralyzing
Maybe one day we’ll figure it out
If not well… it won’t matter then
We are such a destructive force
06/09/2022
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
This or That, Vol 12 Poetry Contest
You Rogue
You rogue, “you made a mess of me.”
First you held me like a flower,
which made me think that I would be
safe in your ivory tower.
But “we were built to fall apart.”
You rogue, you made a mess of me.
I thought you’d never hurt my heart.
Betrayal I did not foresee.
You gave me my own castle key
and made me think our world was bright.
You rogue, you made a mess of me.
“My castle crumbled overnight.”
You made me learn that’s how love goes.
Before you leave, look hard and see
the “love thorns all over this rose.”
You rogue, you made a mess of me.
Verse 1 line from Taylor Swift's "Hits Different"
Verse 2 line from Taylor Swift's "The Very First Night"
Verse 3 line from Taylor Swift's "Call It What You Want"
Verse 4 line from Taylor Swift's "****" (Soup disallows the title, but it means a loose woman and begins with S)
It is the witching hour.
There are no breezes in a windowless house.
There are no shadows in a cave devoid of light.
There are no dreams in a sleepless night.
It is the witching hour.
When our endangered psyche roams.
When we are captured by pernicious spells.
When we are easy prey for rogue chieftains.
It is the witching hour.
When warlords game the system.
When sorcerers gaslight the faithful.
When conspiracy conquers fact.
Only the crestfallen sense the seamless
interval of peril.
Only the dejected resist the wizardry
of the despot.
Only the discouraged view the counterfeit
wallpaper of rot.
Only the discontented shout the truth
against the cacophony of sophistry.
But Stonehenge, the domain of the dead,
will always know first light,
will always vanquish the ruse of our sanctity,
will always sweep away the opiate specters
of tyranny.
The witching hour no more.
Light, the detox to our Stockholm syndrome.
The witching hour no more.
Democracy survives
to live another day.
Ah, the bloom was on the Rose
yet, the taint of alcohol and drugs
looms nightmare like behind her baby pink cheeks.
Porcelain skin tones, raspberry rogue
nails to scratch and lift bits of dirty lucre.
She was clawing her way up,
and hopefully out, he hits her, “****,” he screams at her.
a sometime replacement sat beside him.
His Chicano inner-city drawl hurt her ears
and the fake diamonds studding them.
The new girl beside him
giggles…
She’s due at work by nine,
grabbing a smooth wrap-top and a mock
grey skirt, she rushes from the room to the bank.
She can still see his long fingers playing in other girls cleavage.
Rose, well, Rose pays the rent. She strikes a teller’s pose
behind the formica countertop...
Long days, counting other peoples money
kindness, and sweetness sucked from her
like a ripe plum on a summers day.
She needs work, more work.
I asked her to help in the garden.
Long blonde, buxom, bending over weeds,
only six months to go to graduation
an associate degree…
Rose chuckles, “Look who I’ve been associatin’ with?”
I eye the twenty-five thou lottery ticket in my jean pocket.
“You want to move here Rose?”
“What would they do without me?”
I sigh, thinking of her alcoholic mother
off bingeing and her “boy fiend”.
The lottery windfall went for Rose’s college tuition.
The bloom is off the Rose now,
two hundred plus pounds later
strung out beside her Mom on a ratty couch,
she eyes the Diploma in it’s cheap black frame,
and rocks her baby girl
some things, never change….
*Names have been changed, and the amount given, but part
of the ending has truely come to pass already [sigh].
The rest is all true.
Oh! My Allien Star,alone in sky at night
Has played a sweet monochord,
Beside my garret.
Onset of evening, someone calls your name,
Having hidden your face; to whom
Do you tell your story?
O my awaken star; your home is so far away,
My frightened face; as I am
A little bit foolish .
Kite in the sky which has been seen;
With some false encounters,
Oh light please tie my eyes
And give your calm soothing touch
You are as good as my mother,
I walk alone on the path
Oh! My rogue star;
You are deaf to any word,
Why are you in so hurry,
Please cross your path gently.
No dust on your body, and my attitude
If you keep your hand on it,
And with your wet hands.
Please close my eyes,as I sleep
During my sleepless nights.
Oh! My awaken star, you are awake
You have a skyscraper;
I can't touch you at all,
And I feel very lonely.
On Solid and Liquid Grounds
By: Earl Schumacker
Strong winds comb the ocean curve
White threads of mist lift away
Our hearty crew sets out
To find a way off
Solid land and sand abandoned
We bob atop the vast consuming sea
On collapsing dawn and day
A taste of salt
A rise of heights
And crying blinding spray
Moved by rogue waves
Churns and takes us where they will
Falls like iron buildings dispersing beneath a solid liquid world
As monumental weights about us
Removed from boundaries observable
Departures have their ways as fortunes change
Elements of cause displaced with waves
Unannounced
Back to the body of water and related wilds proper
Melds there…. formless…. yet filling in an empty need to remain full
A landless majesty locked in an embrace stays
We struggle
But turned around by forces not our own
Fear grew on us like mold
Rusting our souls in place
Gills and fish splash back our sinking expectations
Told us of their truth
Not ours
We must depart
Their world for ours
Something solid but no less moving
...exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
(alternately titled untold treasured shenanigans of Santa)
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves) hest
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally besmirching her virginity
via coital cavorting amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
Form:
Adorable Pink Mouse Ballerina was as flexible as they come
She had entranced most of the men, my brothers were some.
The rest of us trooped out of the mouse hole that warm summer day
To watch her gyrate and twist, and show her legs in a most daring way.
She is a common day walker, a hustler, a rogue, my grandmother said.
The boys disagreed, so she boxed them one at a time in their head.
If you ever bring home a mouse like this, I will disown you for sure.
Pink Mouse Ballerina did look unusually pliable, and a tiny impure.
My mother defended her for she had been a stripper in the day.
I know my grandmother said, but we did not find out right away.
By the time we knew you had sixteen children by my son.
Both women were angry by the time Pink Mouse Ballerina was done.
Note the wrong quote
Quote wrong the note
Trace then clear face
Face clear then trace
Charm breeds winsome smile
Smile winsome breeds charm
Glimpse joins fond sight
Sight fond joins glimpse
Strange as change sets spree
Spree sets change as strange
Verse telling hampers talk
Talk hampers telling verse
More or less fronts wit
Wit fronts less or more
Life and death moves mind-map
Mind-map moves death and life
Do you spell my name?
Name my spell do you?
Bad and good gone rogue
Rogue gone good and bad
Sunny fun floats free
Free floats fun sunny
End and start frames peace
Peace frames start and end
Feel warm voice that speeds
Speeds that voice warm feel
Leon Enriquez
01 September 2018
Singapore
Sandy was a chocoholic,
The worst I've ever seen!
If she didn't eat some daily,
She'd become crazy mean!
It didn't matter what kind it was,
Ice cream, cake, pie or candy,
As long as it was chocolate,
Sandy was fine and dandy!
Then one day the unthinkable happened,
To the chocolate loving miss,
While eating her favorite candy,
She choked on a chocolate kiss!
"Death by chocolate," the coroner concluded,
As to the cause of Sandy's death.
At least she died doing what she loved,
Eating chocolate til her last breath.
11/21/11 for Natalie the Rogue Rhymer's
"Die a fun Death" contest