Long Roughed Poems
Long Roughed Poems. Below are the most popular long Roughed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roughed poems by poem length and keyword.
Im Saven my freestyle rhymes so I got da proof n soon I'll be raising da mothaen roof, feeling bullet proof..with all my skills shining through..my competitors ain't know what to do.. when I grab da Mike ..they know they through... Spitting dope rhymes til they getting high from da dope fumes rising from my Microphone, now they leaving yo. They know they got no chance 2 win any battle against me. No competition for this oleschool rap musician making them disappear like im a en magician...they b running they b twichen n of course they b en n wishes they didn't motivate this freestyle main-e-ack now they all under attack.
I've been writing a lot lately, poetry. Comedy n freestyle raps, giving mothaers heart attacks. My compatision fallen fast, blasted n smoked. I ain't no joke. Everyone finishing last. Day taken snapshots at my sexy ass. I'm now standing alone at da Top of da class so all my haters can kiss my ass.. . Fast or slow.. it ain't matter yo..I am unstoppable, like an F5 Tornado, blowen my competitors apart ..morning, noon or after dark, sreadding MC's like im a great white shark!!
Tearing the mothaers slowly apart from every possible angle. Die-angle to a en triangle. I got every possible angel covered til them mothaers smothered n I'm so hot they starting to smolder n smoke. Take a nice long toke til u start 2 choke..now they know what dis freestyle rappers all about. Turn u out ..choke u out til you en passen out. While I'm passen out my demo.. that is gonna demolish anyone in my way yo. Either way ya wanna see it I'll be undefeated n I en mean it. Gotta gansta lean a gansta limp with a tight gansta grip on my .45 with an extra 50 shot clip. This is real n legit n I won't en quit with da.45 hangen off my right hip with that extra en clip..
Maken mothafukers limp like they a dope pimp...
Now I'm heading 4 my dope ride..
2 get da away from dis homicide...
The seen was messy, the seen was sick..
Mothaers learning arithmetic..
5 glock 9 rounds will kill ya quick!!!
Or it will kill ya slow..
Either ing way your gonna die Yo!!!
ing with me n keeping yo life..
Don't ing mix, n I'm not gonna tell ya 2wice...
Once is enough n s gonna get rough..
U gonna get roughed up ..stuck up ..n hit up..Your body on da back of da pick-up..
Not anymore able to hick-cup..!!
You've thrown me over the edge of the highest peaked cliff imaginable.
As I spiral further down, my outer shell gets roughed up by sticks and stones until my body is disfigured beyond recognition as if I'd been torn apart and restitched together by a confused child.
Will I ever hit the bottom?
And then it happens, I'm slammed to a standstill.
I don't know if I can make it out, I'm so terribly down on myself.
Do I have the strength to save myself? At least go halfway to safety?
I'll try.
But the only way to go is by crawling, dragging my nearly lifeless self along the railroad tracks that no one seems to come across unless they want to hide away and wait for death.
The track eventually runs into a tunnel I must get through to receive any chance of comfort.
But so many have died on this very set of tracks. Can I make it?
I'll try.
I'm gripping the cold, hard ground.
Struggling to continue on as each and every movement, even tiny, cuts deep in me as if slashed by the gory blade of a masked offender as I move along the rugged tracks.
I'm almost under the cover of the tunnel.
Oh God what's that sound?
A train?
Of course. Along comes the train.
The train constructed by all the grim gray deaths that have been committed along these very tracks.
Chugging, chugging, chugging along. Way faster than any pace I can produce.
The very structure of this train is held up by malicious spirits.
The steel walls are formed by the souls of all those who've laid out on the tracks and awaited their brutal deaths they so longed for.
I do NOT want to become an etched soul in that steel.
But it's coming for me.
I can hear it's whistle, and in its sound one can hear all the cries of the dead ever screamed aloud, formed into a single sound so evil it must've been the work of the devil himself.
But wait!...
I see a light.
A light at the end of the tunnel.
Hope.
There's still hope for me yet.
I'll be there. Just wait for me.
I arrived at gadgados
today TD our receptionist
is on leave and i have to multitask
between HR and customer care desk
We did lose the keys to the washrooms
turns out the HR forgot and they ended
accompanying her home.. as we are almost
giving up hope of ever finding them..
The boss arrived and they popped out of her bag..
TD arriving at the office these days he keeps popping
up like hes traveling on the fourth dimension
And mi i do know there is no way those keys could
have ended in Madams handbag for the previous day
i am the one who had custody of them last
But the cybertrack ringing in the air.. ability
give me ability... i bet it must be young bujas
who is up to his usual tricks once more
they say he formed the puma squad with the crown prince
and here at gadgados no one really knows what the silver
sentinels are up to... the pumas are very evasive
today the HR trying to corner me wanted to know why
the crown prince deserted duty at the military academy
i don't know i mussed... no one really does know
Maybe Bujas does.. its rumored left to start the puma squad
private silver sentinels... and they have made gadgados facility
their operating base... what they do no one wants to knows
Later in the evening we lost the front door keys only for them
to mysteriously reappear again an echo of the cyber track.. strength
strength give me strength to overcome for you are strength...
I have to mention Bujas strange companion Roy now prowls this area
and the other day i heard Lemmy roughed up people after i declined....
declined work... like TD and took a leave of absence to do music
for i week i sojourned in music traveling trans dimensional arriving...
at the land of light not very unlike Roy.. but different from Roy i traveled
in the eye of my mind and unlike Bujas i have no need for a time machine
Lewis Nyaga
a day at gadgados
Why did you slave my heart
Slaved all these years
At the end you slayed it it
And took away the trust
You snitched my happiness
Destroyed all the love I had
For you gal
You did all that for that.......
For that man.....
For what he had
I felt betrayed
You left me on a date
Did not even wait
For the next day
I felt like embarrassment
Was smeared on garments
I smelt terrible disappointment
You left me in tears for that....
Just for what he had
For that man
My trust for love is stolen
My heart is left ruptured
Roughed into pulp
Got clutched on lungs
So hard so fast
Left bruise
Your carelessness disturbed
My breathing
For that man for what he had
How am I gonna be normal again
Have love again
Live the life I've always wanted
Love wise
Just when I was
A step away
From realm of love
You stopped the display
Of that environment
I thought you were the one
To you layed all the trust and love
Didn't know it was for the last
To feel that
Because of your lust
Not even for him
It was not even for real
You left me for that man for what he had
You left on our date
How sad
I felt weakness in my bones
It was not like not anymore
Strong
During that I couldn't be strong
I tried to maintain control
Over myself
I just couldn't do it right
I blamed and again and I blamed
I blamed the next person
Everyone. ..
I was Clueless
Atmosphere remained quite
Environment tolerant
They understand
Never thought this love can end
I suspected curse
It was all because she left me
For what?
That man for what he had
People never love and think love can never end
Iam not making anyone afraid to love
But to never forget to love yourself
As well
I hope you didn't enjoy this poem
Only
But heard what it has to say
She left me for that man for what he had
It's not easy becoming a Legendary
Major League Baseball pitcher.
It never was and will never be.
You get put through the wringer
and hung out to dry.
From time to time you'll get little or no
run support.
You may have to face Legendary Icons
of the game 2 and 3 times in a game.
Come face to face with undisguised
Batting Champions.
Silver Slugger Award Winners.
Members and potential Members of the
500 Home Run Club.
Members and potential Members
of the 3000 Hits Club
A few Future Members of
Baseballs Hall of Fame
as well as Iconic MLB ALL STARS.
You will face monumental challenges.
You'll get worn down and roughed up
being on the road 82 games a season.
As a Major League Baseball Starting Pitcher
you suck it up, go out on the mound
and challenge history.
You bring your "A" game
You bring your best fastball
your best curve ball
and your best change up.
When you average 33 starts a season.
Average 10 complete games per season.
Average 3 shut outs per season.
Throw a No Hitter every 3.857 seasons.
Face an average 972 batters per season.
Average 232 innings per season
Through hot , cold , humid and sticky weather.
Give up an average 169 hits per season.
Average 232 innings per season.
Average 82 earned runs per season.
Give up an average 14 home runs in 33 games
over 232 innings per season.
When you average 120 walks per season
Strike out an average 246 batters per season
for a career total of 5714.
It kinda looks like this.
6.6 hits per 9 innings
4.7 walks per 9 innings
9.5 strike outs per 9 innings
Over 27 seasons.
When you do that for a total of 27 seasons
The critics will call you the next
Nolan Ryan.
The Legendary Strike Out King
Member of Major League Baseballs
Hall of Fame.
Michael E. Harris
02202022
Absurdity, chaos,
strife:
The poet chooses
virtuous reality.
Sisyphus, a
titanic wave of metamorphosis, waiting, salted nausea:
The thinker roughed by sand
a solitary tree in a barren desert
defies absurdity
by seeking meaning in the absurd.
Authenticity,
vision, conformity, religion:
The rebel a roaring
wildfire igniting change like:
authenticity,
vision, and non-conformity
forging their own path.
Project,
reflect, individuality:
The human river
tasting the minerals of experience
expresses identity
and discovers themselves.
Leap,
Übermensch,
ethics,
logotherapy:
The agent
acts with freedom and responsibility
finding purpose.
Meaning,
joy, void, hope:
The sweet-smelling optimist a sunflower
fills emptiness with hope
seeking light in the darkness.
Truth,
illusion, reality, fiction:
The rationalist
discerns the real and the imagined.
Contradiction,
logic, emotion:
The harmonist
strives for balancing
the rational and emotional.
Freedom,
authenticity, manipulation, conformity:
The individualist
resists pressure and influence.
Awareness,
paradox, courage, hope:
The existentialist
embraces the absurd and transcends.
Leak,
speak,
strike,
kneel:
The activist challenges-
The status quo and injustice.
Tirelessly fights for justice!
Death,
suicide, violence, genocide:
The mortal
faces limit and horror with courage.
Despair,
nightmare:
The lover
shares and cares with love.
Existence
precedes essence?
Or essence
precedes existence?
The question
haunts forever.
The Stoic
Observes, unmoved yet aware:
Virtue alone suffices
whether essence or existence;
In reason and nature
we find our constant companion.
I look at those four poems and i'm reminded of harder times,
struggling to break free, to regain my mind.
Each poem was at a different time, throughout my withdrawals,
I wanted to open peoples eyes, to show you what your in for.
For anxiety they were intended, but had a multi purpose,
they suppressed my anger for a while, then things only got worse.
In between scripts is where things got bad,
not having enough money for them, made me intensely mad.
Then I just decided one day, to heck with it all,
I just stopped taking them, and wouldn't buy anymore.
I don't recommend this, this is not what I'm trying to endorse,
there are people out there that do need them, I just didn't want them anymore.
I hated what they were doing to me, whenever I ran out,
So I bit the bullet, and roughed it all out.
I still have anxiety, panic attacks as well,
Only difference is, I know what to do when I have a spell.
If I had known now what I didn't then,
I would never have started taking them.
To many times in life, people want a quite fix,
Take a pill, that's alright, it will fix you quick.
Putting a band aide over an infection,
doesn't take the infection away.
Only when you get to the root of the cause,
Can you bring about brighter days.
In a sense I guess, I wanted people to see what they do,
before taking anti depressants, think the whole thing through.
They are addictive and yes sometimes they help, for a little while,
then doctors will push you on the harder ones, then you'll be hooked for life.
There are other ways to deal with life's misery's,
like holistic healing or counselling, or learning coping strategy's.
M.Mahauariki © 2012
It feels as though time itself,
Is slipping from my grasp,
Like I’m walking atop eggshells,
Across butterfly wings,
And along the shattered and broken glass
There never seems to be enough time
It’s like a marathon for me
All I want is to finish this climb
And stand tall for all to see
With all that’s going on right now,
These hard times seem to linger
Like I’m rushing in a race,
Against the ever changing current
And these memories in time are slipping,
Like sand trickling down the narrow hourglass,
Right through my desperate fingers
My vision seems to be constantly refocusing
Unsure about what is real
Switching between health and sickness
I don’t know how to feel
I look to the 7 directions
The brainless scarecrow pointing me every which way
sometimes I feel like the cowardly lion,
running from the slightest sight of trouble
I tried looking north, but my compass is bent
I tried looking east, but I was blinded by the light
I tried looking south, but walking back into the past is not a mistake I
prefer to make
I tried looking west, to the stars, for answers,
But all I got were twinkling lights and momentary freedom,
Before darkness engulfed my thoughts
I tried looking up, silently begging for a direction to turn to
I tried looking down, to see things from above
Finally, I tried looking within, and found something worth working towards
So god bless this broken road I’ve been traveling
Hanging on by a thread, just getting by each day
For had I not fallen down and gotten roughed up a bit
I never would’ve gotten strong enough to get back up
12/23/20
Been one heck of a year and some month
Recently got a buzz cut
I'm buzzed yup
I was down and I was up
No longer such a young buck
Always f***ed up
What a f*** up
Shut up
And hush up
Pettiness continually being dug up
I'll take you out barehanded, or with num-chuks
Try to confront me and puff up
But quickly got roughed up
And scuffed up
Shut the f*** up
I don't ever need any thumbs up
You either did or didn't have enough guts
Fell down stayed there or was able to jump up
Before the towel was hung up
It was splattered about like bug guts
Spread amongst us
Always trying to instruct us
Yet so quick to confront us
Never been or plan on going for a duck hunt
Can't say the same for so and so, or such and such
Call it dumb luck
Often I lucked up
And was able to one up
The other half of the time, it was tough luck
Too many people being a suck up
Stuck up and a dumb f***
As they continue to bluff much
My eyes stuck shut
Occasionally over did it, but rarely ever would up chuck
Why must
They remind us
That eventually our time's up
If you deserve it, my trust you earned it
I'll tell you what's up
And what's what
From here to beyond Lubbock
Always working towards getting the funds up
Not quitting when the moons out or when the suns up
Saw it or did not see the gun tucked
Because they've had enough of
A world that is f***ed up
In the past a lot of shrubs and brush cut
Once in awhile the job required a lug nut
Fathom, that some people are still living in a mud hut
Having nearly nothing, except for just one cup
Against the pale October Moon, a lone howling cuts
Through the chill of the winter’s night, gleaming yellow
Green eyes flash in the forests wilderness wild.
Sleek mystic swift of feet, white powder chameleons,
Living by the creed of basic instinctual desire to survive,
In this harsh environment of the Rocky Mountains.
By the flight of the morning blue jay, spooked from his
Perches vantage point on high, the pack hunts in the
Deep valleys thickening glen.
Snow wolves on the prowl, seeking freedoms liberation
By tooth and claw, but these are beasts of the free spirit,
Out laws nomads, wondering where the restless heart so
Leads them.
Beguiling creatures of beauty, representing the raw
Force of power of the untamed soul, roughed individuals,
Stalkers of the ice and snow.
Spiritual brethren to the tribal Indians are these
Sacred guardians of the great spirits creation, darned
With mutual respect and admiration honor, let them
Roam freedom’s path forever.
Symbolic warriors under the skin and fur, does the animal
Run beside the human hidden within the shadow realm of realism.
Echoing in the distance, with a chilling presence that
Crawls up the neck bone of mankind, announcing,
Erriely, of the hunger driving them in silence.
Nature’s selectors, weaving the weak from the strong,
Legacies ancestral brave, soldiers of canines pack,
Living on the edge of extinction mighty wrath.
But looking into the eyes of the beast, one can only
See the beauty of a wild creature, whom wishes to remain
As he was born to be, simply put FREE!!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN