Long Scrutinised Poems

Long Scrutinised Poems. Below are the most popular long Scrutinised by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scrutinised poems by poem length and keyword.


Immense Condenesd

I M M E N S E       C O N D E N S E D


I     Instructed by a plot, broken into paltry portion
M   Mauled into small, mammoth to screaming speck
M   Mountain range cramped, meandering cancelled
E    Elements of concept squashed into essence
N   No word left unchecked, numerous adaptations
S   Scrutinised, all adjacent scoured thoroughly 
E   Erraditacate unnecessary words, edit again 


C   Captivate from word one, add an anomaly 
O   Owe the audience pleasure, build their trust
N   Never accept the standard, leave cliche alone 
D   Dive into the character's psyche, dig their dirt
E    Employing research makes validity emerge
N   Nullify nonsense inclusions, nudge away distractions
S    Set up captured fast in short form, stir in surprise
E    Every line moves story forward, each essential 
D    Diagnose end point, not long form done and dusted
Form: Acrostic


Premium Member The Joy Continuum

awareness self aware
of dark veils of ignorance
shrouding our consciousness 
rotates polarity of sentience 
to view inner luminescence 

the offered enablement 
seen by periscope vision
is then scrutinised by ego
by jaundiced perception
in dimmed colouration 

once baton of awareness 
shifts into the void internal
we must rest our lower mind
trusting cognition spherical 
to behold God’s miracle 

for detachment complete
let us celebrate our delusion
resting our head at His feet
in continuum of meditation 
heart radiant in elation

looking around in wonder 
nestled in quiet contentment 
bliss in-pours as vibrant thunder
as we view life in astonishment 
delighting in soul unfoldment 

17-September-2021
Form: Rhyme

Our bodies were celebrities without status

Our bodies were celebrities, before we knew fame
Privacy was a luxury, stolen from our innocence,
Our curves measured, scrutinised by envy,
Scales became friends without the empathy,
Put under a microscope, our bodies criticised for growing,
A black girls body, becomes front page news -
The buzzword they religiously used, ‘fast’ as if it were choice

Shamed for being curvy, yet paying for our shape to be replicated,
They instil hate, to make us shrink -
Just for them to showcase the bodies they claim to ‘hate’
Stealing credit, and robbing the spotlight
The aim of their game, was to install shame -
To feel better, for not being naturally shaped

Paper reviews and media highlights,
No protection, just unwanted exposure,
Contracts signed without our permission,
To showcase our bodies, like we are caged animals 
Turned into a circus, to point and laugh at,
To hide the fact, that they wish they were black,
Their skin green, with the envy of our blackness -
Projecting hate in disguise of jealousy,
Trapped in a state of constant sadness,
For not living up to an image they worked hard to perfect
Our bodies, were just caught in the crossfires of their anger

Why us?

Why as black women do we just have to accept everything 
Can't complain just accept the bare minimum 
Treated like mothers who didn't get a choice
Forced into a life of sacrifice 

Treated like animals but stripped of dignity 
Our lives were never ours just a product of control
Used and abused like some rag doll
Dressed to impress like a model
Except insulted and sexualised on the catwalk

Blamed for existing 
Then punished for being angry
At a world that keeps us miserable 
For the sake of their own joy
But then again why expect respect from the world 
When we are not even respected by our own men 
Who would do anything to attract white women
Even if it means betraying the loyalty 
Of their own community 
But I guess that's what happens when
They chase whiteness
Who are filled with self hatred 
Transferred into colourism 

A black woman's desire is to just exist
Not a life drowned in exhaustion 
The constant looks over the shoulder
The being driven to psychosis 
Gaslit until we are burnt out 
Plagued by judgement 
A standard of infinite perfection
And to always be held to an unreasonable standard
A singular question
Of when we will receive our protection 

To them we are not humans 
Just experimental tools 
To be poked and prodded 
And have our scars out in the open
Scrutinised in life and death
For us there will be no rest 
Just a test 
Of who will come out the best

Premium Member The Tannoy Operator

This free verse was written from an agnostic point of view 
so may appear biased, against organised religions
I assure you this is not my intention, and it is simply a poem 
For the record, I have told lies in the past, and still do occasionally 

The tannoy operator 

And so it came to pass at a certain time in human history 
the greatest illuminati in civilisation are called together 
with only one question to solve 

IS THERE ONE TRUE GOD!

Physicists, philosophers, professors, sit round an enormous table 
No religious leaders where invited,
as they are deemed to be extremely prejudiced, 
Besides they already believe in many relevant Gods
depending on their denomination and orientation, 

Stern faces stare across the table at each other 
For this matter is to be taken, with the utmost gravitas,
All known religious texts are brought in, and piled high on the table,

“Search the evidence” echoes over a tannoy system 

All the texts are studiously scrutinised, over the ensuing days 
After which the great debate is due to begin in earnest,
But first a show of hands is called for, by the tannoy operator 
and this question put to them, 
“Have you found one true God” 
but alas nobody raises a hand, 
“Ok so let the great debate begin”
They all just look at each other, stand up shake hands,
leave the room, and go their separate ways

Unknown to these illuminati another conference had been called in secret
by the tannoy system operator
Only this time, it was between the various religious leaders, 
Again after pouring over all the texts 
the same question was put to them, 
“Have you found one true God”
and sure to form, every one of them raise their hands

But then unbelievably stand up, and prepare to leave the room, 
“You cannot go, without revealing who God is”
echoes from the tannoy 
Just then a massive argument erupts, spilling over into fisticuffs 
Indeed this status quo, has remained ever since. 

By
David Kavanagh


Black girls don't get eating disorders

Black girls don’t get eating disorders -
And yet we do,
You may not see it but we do,
We live it, we breathe it - we are it
You say ‘a black girl can’t struggle’
I say ‘unlike you eating disorders don’t discriminate’
Our bodies are scrutinised - so what did you expect,
When you made a comment, and i followed through -
With results that you ignore,
Results that you score,
Results you caused - from your poor choice of words
Black girls struggle too,
Our bodies are the proof -
The truth,
That you deny,
But the numbers don’t lie,
And our bodies still cry -
For help,
Help that we don’t receive -
Because the world can’t believe,
That black girls get eating disorders too,
And how do i know this - it’s because i am living proof -
That black girls get eating disorders too

Keeping God-search Simple

Our ancient fathers had it easy.
Every now and again God would appear
To one of them on top of a mountain, in a dream,
Or what would seem to be a burning bush.
He would tell them where they went wrong
                  (which button to push)
Give them a set of instructions.
Then, presto!  Away they’d go
And things would also go right for a while,
Until the instructions became obsolete.
Meanwhile, they would be scrutinised
And revised by God, and a new set provided.

Neat! In the Old Testament this was standard,

Now we come to the New: not so for us.
We have to formulate our own instructions,
Perform our own miracles,
By trial and experiment,
By logic or presentiment.
We hope, we fumble and grope
And often (but not often enough)
We discover a missing fragment
Of the Seventh or Tenth Commandment
            (only a fragment, mind)
While the First Commandment,
Although we search, we cannot find.

Someday perhaps,
On a slide, looking down a microscope,
One of the laboratory chaps or some old bod
Gazing at the heavens through a telescope,
Might just catch a glimpse of God.

Premium Member Rummaged

Rummage
If you must.
My presence here
Is based on trust

So dressed am I
In Summer svelte
Yet you're to check
My trousers belt;

I'm scanned 
As if each cell is rogue
So scrutinised
Despite en vogue

I understand 
Away from home
You check my
Hydrocortisone;

The lotion for
My perfect tan
Or salve for lips
To kiss this man

Accept, do I
My gooey three
Could form a plan
For bomb plot spree

A victim
Of mis-communication 
Disturbing transport's
Destination 

Ungroomed
Is how my luggage ends
While protection 
Of the sky depends

On just this task 
For safety's sake
More pleasant if
A smile you'd break

Your focus can't be
All on me
Perhaps you're  wondering
"What's for tea?"..

Or hoping soon
To get away
To pack for your own
Holiday

So here's my wish
For you to find
Credentials
Of a different kind

As poke and prod
Display and sort
Where discretion is
A last resort 

So one day you may 
Understand 
In travel 
To another land

Exposure
To some inner delving
Though required, it may be
Disconcerting
© Sam Scott  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Not Moving On

A crack will appear, a hole will grow
The truth will out just so you know

Many decades of men try to hide their crimes
Some are so conceited and up themselves that they even think that they can beat time.

But while they spaff the truth and live on lies
People find new ways to crack their smile

The truth will out because for the nation it must
Too many of us dead, too many of us lost
The anguish, pain and sorrow of so many out there
We will not let the truth be buried to compound that despair.

The truth will out.
Their lies will be scrutinised.
They think that we are nothing but fools who fall for lies.
But this is above politics, here there are few rules for us and them

The truth will out and then the nation will stop and stare
With eyes of anger and raging glare.
Our people have differences yes, but when the hammer falls
When we see the tears of our people who have lost it all
Hear of stories of our children dying alone in fear

Don’t think that we’ll forget who’s responsible for a nations tears.

Pandemic

The silence hurt
The empty hours
Aching to be filled
With meaningful activity
With encouraging words
The office abandoned
The empty desks
Unread bookcases
Files to be scrutinised
Would things ever revert?
The hubbub of colleagues
The banter in the corridor
The incidental exchange of ideas
The shared insights on the whiteboard
The feeling of team 
A form of family
All a distant memory
Not a worthy competitor
Not a godforsaken war
Not a foreign power
But an infinitesimally small
Invisible enemy
Out of nowhere
Has changed everything
Causing a revolution
In the path of evolution
Economy thwarted
Jobs lost
Education abandoned
Caught us all by surprise
Made us hunker in our homes
Afraid to come out
Hiding behind screens
Hiding behind masks
Scrubbing hands religiously
Avoiding those we hold dear
Each interpreting the guidelines differently
Applying tailored logic
Trust breached
Will life ever return to where it was?

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