Long Ruined Poems
Long Ruined Poems. Below are the most popular long Ruined by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ruined poems by poem length and keyword.
My Grandpa was an impatient man.
One time when the boys didn’t bring the truck home in time
And he had to move hay,
Grandpa took a chain saw and massacred the top
Off his spanking brand new Cadillac,
So he could use it as a hay-moving almost truck.
The boys didn’t have anything
to impress their dates with
After that.
And their own fault too.
Impatience is the only thing
Grandpa and I
Ever had in common
As he had a mean
Streak that used
To pinch grandma
Until she cried. I remember
Watching this and thinking
How horrible he was.
He did it a lot, and it was
Awful.
Something happened one
Christmas that verified his
Meanness to me. I had
Been promised the next
Hold with the new baby for
40 minutes while my hoggish
Gloating sister kept holding on to
Baby David. When it was finally
My turn, Grandpa
Stepped up to say it was
His turn and I said,”Grandpa
It’s my turn.”
That’s when he slapped my
8-year-old face so hard I thought
He had slapped it OFF. I saw stars.
Mom got upset, and we
Went home immediately.
I had never seen my
Mother so mad, on my account.
We left Christmas without
Opening our presents,
Verifying that
I had somehow
Ruined Christmas.
After Grandma died
My twin and I spent one
Night with Grandpa, and believe me, I slept with one eye open
As a credo, freedom is a way of abounding.
It depicts the core of man and his existence.
A memory that calls for full understanding.
How can we scale liberty based on choice?
Giving up one's needs is incredible branding.
The hill is coated in a layer of atmosphere.
The Freedom Pub is where they mingle.
Bravery destroys the dark memory of fear.
Tears were denied their rightful dingle.
spirits who lament each soldier's tears.
When freedom is lost, it is ruined forever.
The need to gather for a heroic alliance.
Queries are obvious of someone so clever.
A sentence in stone, depicting defiance.
Freedom Pub asserts the overall endeavor.
3rd place contest winner
Written: January 04, 2022
Freedom Pub Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
Grandpa gathered his nephews around to hear one of his famous stories.
It happened truly, many, many years ago. The children loved his tales.
A hired thief, a poisonous dart, in the middle of the night.
He was well-trained to attack in profound silence.
He entered the cave where the dragon and his princess slept.
He shot straight at the nostril. Soon the beast lay still,
But not before it swished its large tail in acute pain.
The princess knew that trouble was afoot and ran and rang
The bell hangs in the chimney of an old ruined edifice.
The people of High Ridge realized that something was amiss,
The mayor galloped towards the cave and then up the mountain
And saw an army, with weapons well outfitted, amassed readily to attack.
The people of High Ridge were usually peaceful and certainly not
So well arrayed to defend themselves. Despair was everywhere.
The Princess wise in lore struck up a fire and threw in it her magic herbs.
Smoked filled the cavern and an old man quickly appeared.
“Who dares wake me from my slumbers, I am now old for such pranks.”
The Princess knelt and asked for pardon and addressed the mighty sorcerer
That he might help the people of High Ridge in their dire plight.
The old sorcerer stroked his white long beard and surveyed the cavern,
Examined the young dragon that lay prostrate as if dead.
He withdrew the poisoned dart from its nostril and breathed on it.
Slowly the beast woke, was given a potion for strength and
With the princess, they flew high up on the mountain and surveyed
Their enemies marched towards High Ridge. Soon they saw the beast,
Fire spewed from its mouth and the army quickly dispersed.
Bells rang, and a feast was proclaimed for now High Ridge was saved.
And what were you, grandpa, the children asked. The sorcerer?
Of course not, the old man replied. I was the mayor. And all had a laugh.
I put on my face and look in the mirror at my self.
Expecting to see something lovely and nice.
There is an enormous pimple which winks like an elf.
I take a razor blade and give it a slice.
My makeup is ruined, and there is blood on my face.
Mr. Wonderful is on his way. I feel out of place.
I tell my mother I’m not going, the date is ruined now.
I feel fat and ugly and angry; my face clearly says cow.
It’s not so bad, my girlfriend lies, she likes the guy too.
I know she’s pretending to be nice. Her name is Lou.
I kick her out as I stare into the mirror looking for flaws.
My cheeks are all bloated, I look bigger than Claus!
Mascara is running, and there are tissue pieces with blood.
I hear a car stop outside, with a loud angry thud.
“He’s here!” my mother says, getting ready to get rid of me.
I hear her offer my Mr. Charming some cookies and tea.
I am sniffling and sobbing and shaking my bed.
I look like Godzilla, I think in my head.
My sister should go, she is the pretty one anyway.
She eagerly takes me up on this; and I decide to stay.
copper burns across an endless sky
competing caws claim salt, surf and sand
sailing high above slowly sagging carcasses
long forgotten at the edge of the world
buckled rails swim over a shimmering shingle sea
the largest of its kind, hinting at some other time;
engines once chugged to billingsgate from this beach
herring bound for the cinque ports
and they say women dragged each boat -
pulled them down to that shore’s faithless embrace;
the muttered prayers of mothers and daughters
casting their men out on fortune’s dark waters
now nets, set for a tide that came and went, lay
mouldering among those collapsing clinkers
as if the fisherfolk just left one night, fled
granting the gulls sole control of that desolate dominion
their toil and trade, the legacy of our fathers’ fathers
still lays there on that beach; haunts that huge cove
rich history, like in so many places, fading away
rotting, rusting, ruined
Megalopolis wants growing whenever,
Even she was full of wealth and honor,
Swallowing lots of loser and goner,
But she's still growing and stops it never.
Megalopolis wants flowing forever,
She washed away people into ruined darkness,
She washed away people from blessed happiness,
But she's still flowing and stops it never.
Yes, people were tired to live in noisy light,
Love was too gloomy, heavy and sticky,
All bonds worked as only restriction to self.
See, people hoped to live in silent night,
Truth was too weak, faith was too picky,
Loneliness was the only way to guard self.
20/Jan/2016
Fengleishanren.
V.4:
Okay – tell me straight out –
Do you love me enough to sacrifice yourself for me
Okay – tell me straight in my face without a doubt –
Do you hate me to the extreme ‘cause you ruined my self-esteem & now I’m
embracing pity, not sunlit glee
Hmph, graze in your own foolish maze;
In other words, mind your own little business or you’ll face my rage and you’ll
feel utter regret
Ohh no, you never gave me true praise;
In other words, I was blinded by tears because you ignored me for many years
– I was so upset
CHORUS:
I will squander my time now and forever
(Are you an evil, fallen angel?)
Until I meet you eye to eye again
Our departure came to soon…our future’s a blur
(sarcasm: Oh you must be a sweet, beautiful angel –)
Come on & get out of the lion’s den!
Release me…I need to let go…
Believe in me…reflect on me…
Release me…let me go with the flow
Let me grow and see…the light at the end of the tunnel
There’s other fish in the sea…
Bridge #1:
I’m mad because you chose another route
Contrary to mine no doubt
I close my eyes in attempt to sleep
I drift away in a deep sleep – I weep, I weep…
I feared that my soul will never be
Healed completely
~@#$%^&!*()_+=-)(*&^%$%$#@!~
Tears on Mother Liberty
Plutocracy the society they created through the Trump towers, now they regret it Like Iraq having no democracy.
Theocracy seems Like the answer for now, for evil has ruined what was once a great nation, Living all hopeless and faithless.
God bless America!
Down your tools, raise your fists and continue the dream of Martin Luther King bring shame to the fiend debilitating our society.
No more shooting, instead put the blame on Putin and realize BLACKLIVESMATTER.
We can't kill each other or else the assassination of John. F. Kennedy is not an abomination, recreation these kids seizing on opiates therefore we need purple rain through the Prince of peace.
The circus in the White House like Clinton, soldier on like Hilary and let the heart of Obama infect us all with Love for one another whether you black, white, Latino or whatever we are America!
Dust-veiled memories,
a canvas of sand and sea.
Gaza, etched in the soul,
a love that will not flee.
Waves whisper secrets,
to the shore, now bare and cold.
Each grain of sand, a tear,
a story yet untold.
The body is exiled, the heart remains,
bound by invisible chains —
a longing, fierce and deep,
for home, where dreams still sleep.
Ruined streets, a silent plea,
for a return, for you and me.
In the embrace of Gaza's dust,
a peace that no exile can adjust.
The wind carries whispers,
across the desert's barren face.
A yearning, etched in stone
to find that sacred space.
Gaza is more than just a place,
a love, a memory, a grace.
In the dust and ruins,
a heart finds its solace, its true muse.
Have you ever, met a woman before?
Yes have you ever, loved a woman before?
You wake up and see her, and run out the door
That’s my woman, that’s my strife, that’s my wife
I met my woman in a pub
Yes, met my woman in a pub
Only woman kicked out the ugly club
That’s my woman, that’s my strife, that’s my wife
She’s never been kissed by a boy
Yes never been kissed by a boy
You’ll feel compassion for her abused sex toy
That’s my woman, that’s my strife, that’s my wife
Chorus:
That’s my woman, that’s my strife, that’s my wife
You know marrying her has ruined my life
But I love her, I love her so