Long Seethed Poems
Long Seethed Poems. Below are the most popular long Seethed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Seethed poems by poem length and keyword.
Freda's an obnoxious old woman
She‘d say loudly ‘I want it right now’
Her long suffering husband Timothy
covertly called her a bossy old cow!
Each weekend they’d both go shopping
Freda would always jump the queue,
declaring in her brash whiny voice
that she’s bursting to go to the loo!
Poor Timothy would stand there
his face turning a shade of bright red,
she’d say ‘just get on with the packing’
and give him a cuff round his head!
Last week she pushed in front of me
and then gave me such a nasty glare,
Timothy stood looking embarrassed
perhaps wishing that he wasn’t there
Still, I ended up having the last laugh
when the manager came over to me
Saying you’re our millionth customer
so everything is your trolley’s for free!
Freda jumped up and down like a banshee
exclaiming loudly that this just wasn’t fair -
that she’d ONLY swapped places with me
meaning she should’ve really been there
Timothy seethed and said shut the duck up
(Freda looked like she’s about to explode) ...
He said ‘maybe this will teach you a lesson’
and he turned on his heels with their load!
This couple no longer go shopping
(last I heard Tim’s seeking a divorce)
He’s moved back in with his mother
and spends weekends on the golf course!
Fiction Poem – just having a giggle
04/12/20
Barely worked a job in his whole damn life,
leached off friends and parents for his money,
never could provide for his kid sand wife,
lived in homes so bad his infant did freeze;
yet he felt he could write economics,
never producing something or paid a soul,
academic words to hide his envy,
no wonder his thoughts had a bloody toll;
never was hatred more deserved,
Karl Marx was a damn monster.
Was downright demonic in sympathies,
his poems identified with Satan,
called for blood and violence to push his cause,
for his ‘greater good’ you must slaughter men;
attacked any kind of faith people held,
accept his own doctrines which would replace
all the higher values that a soul needs,
with a corrupting worship of the state;
never was hatred more deserved,
Karl Marx was a damn monster.
Had a strange obsession with suicide,
which he managed to pass on to his kids,
two daughters would perish by their own hands,
that kind of influence hard to forgive;
left his wife to deal with their creditors,
selling off their stuff just to stay afloat,
cheated with the maid and then knocked her up,
didn’t once claim the child as his own;
never was hatred more deserved,
Karl Marx was a damn monster.
Incredibly racist through his whole life,
called his Cuban son-in-law ‘negrillo,’
opined that Africans were subhuman,
seemed to think that the Jews were demons low;
wouldn’t by medicine for his sick wife,
it was too expensive, so she just died,
but when it came to him he spared nothing,
made dam sure that he had it come his time;
never was hatred more deserved,
Karl Mars was a damn monster.
Some say that bad men can have good ideas,
but more often than not they’re just as bad,
100,00,000 dead from the socialists,
a pretty good sign his ideas were mad;
why you’d build policy on such a man
who never worked and seethed with jealousy,
did wrong by all his family and his friends,
mired all who followed him in misery;
rhere it nothing good in his words,
Karl Marx was a damn monster.
...But Madeline just too aim, lined up her shot.
‘I don’t need to kill all, just you Joe,’
She said as she aimed straight for his heart,
‘We both know how this will unfold.’
‘Charlie there doesn’t breath without say-so,
And Walter can’t hit a barn with his gun.
It’s only you, Joe. You are the whole gang,
And with one shot it all is undone.’
Ol d Joe did seethed, and go for his pistol,
Madeline squeezed, and the rifle did bark.
Joe pitched backwards quickly, dead on his feet
His rotten soul lost to the great dark.
Madeline she shifted, and shot Walter
The stunned fool fell from his horse.
And Charlie he turned, and galloped away,
So she winged him, as matter of course.
Charlie, he fell, and let out a moan
His left arm broken, bloody and raw
Madeline stalked closer, stood over him
And placed the barrel up against his jaw.
‘You think that I’m weak, to live here in peace
Since I do not go plunder and steal,
But my husband fought rebels, and I shot you
So listen up closely, cause this is the deal!’
‘I won’t kill you now, even though I ought
To leave you here, broken and red
And if your return, I won’t kill you then
I’ll just shoot off your other, little, head.’
‘So get up and walk, but don’t you dare talk!
Go on now and make your escape.
And tell all those thugs that you call friends,
Madeline Cole in no one’s to rape!’
So she took the horses, and Charlie ran off,
Anything more from him would be futile.
And Charlie he learned, the old proverb was true:
When the good folk get mad, they get brutal.
not like a Christian, but like a victim.
I prayed like a woman afraid,
afraid I was the sacrifice to his vice.
I would lie awake then. I lie awake now
as my heartbeat hammers
my breastbone like a blacksmith,
I remember… I remember
in a pale cringe, I sniffled. My blood polka-dotted
a white floor that smeared an inkblot of me.
A split lip, half-wit tamed by the maim of his fist.
His madman’s magma buried me,
a lingual lava flow that hardened as it cooled.
My sense of self turned to obsidian. I fractured.
Tears slashed like shards. I bled self-esteem.
He preyed on me
as I prayed to him like he was a god.
Please forgive me! It’s all my fault! On my knees
I was dead to myself.
He split my skin. Stripped me to my bones.
His vulture needs I remember.
My emotional remains he savored,
flavored with backhands and vodka bottle bottoms.
I seethed in sour juices of moonshine abuses.
I counted moons and contusions. I counted
each stitch needled through my skin.
My heart quilted with clichés;
I love you. I'm sorry. It'll never happen again.
I seized my breath so's not to moan or implode.
As I exhale I remember
I fantasized of blasting him to the belly of Hell
when I’d usher vengeance inside our back door.
Reaper’s reckoning when this battered forget-me-not
shattered his bones with buck-shot scatter. Damn!
I’d have paid the devil for a jail cell to be free.
A candlelight-night bruised by cruiser lights:
I remember I prayed like a victim to 911.
Oh God! Please God! Help me! He's gonna kill me!
I pressed bleeding heart flowers between diary pages,
diary pages without words cried to be heard.
Concussion dreams panic my pulse, dilate my eyes!
Oh, dreamless sleep, grant me deceased peace.
Until night hags of nightmares die
I will remember...
Where have you been?
Reproached my muse,
Angel guardian of my body,
Majestic temple housing
My soul!
I retreated back
Back to myself
To my gloom,
My doom,
My disease, my despair,
My broods,
My negativity
My darkness,
Why, in there,
I shattered mirrors,
I tore up diaries,
I burned poems,
I scratched my wrists,
I shed tears,
I lost it there,
I lost it all,
From my mind
To my hope,
In that power which accompanies me
That power known as faith!
Why, seethed my muse,
What happened to you?
No reason is needed to brood
No reason is needed to feel low
No reason at all
Except for love,
Which hurts the most,
With his silence and his coldness
Which makes me feel
Like a disturbance
At all times!
After all, I remain a blind believer
In your power as it governs my life
Muse!
Why did you tempt me with that
Which I want the most
Only to have me
Broken and spent
As it glides away from me,
Leaving me feeling like
I were the roots of a tree
And it, a river, flowing towards the ocean,
Needing me not,
But rather, feeding me with its waters,
Allowing me to sustain myself!
My muse looked at me in silence
Then,
It bid me to hold my pen in my hand
And to write,
Riddles and mysteries
In poetic form
Meant to soothe my agony!
I thought for a long time you were my good friend,
trusted you with a faithful mind, I didn’t pretend.
But in my difficult times you had betrayed me,
I saw the mask you wore fall discarded in debris.
Your flashing deceptive eyes then revealed
you seethed, with an inferno of hatred you’re filled.
Your twisted tongue spilled out words unkind,
smeared with the toxin of the malicious mind.
The scruple of your sane senses turned into ember,
erupted violently out of the fuming fiery chamber.
It flew in the spreading smoke of stifling spite,
consumed the remains of reason you lost outright.
I didn’t stray away from you to self-heal, dejected,
or sought a shelter in the den of disdain, isolated.
Nor did I ignite another silent flame within me
to face you and feel good in retaliation with glee.
I realized that a fire can’t ever extinguish or contain
another fire, for both burn the space of restrain.
I faced you with self-assured confident calm gaze,
for the serenity of my soul you couldn’t ever blaze.
The flow of forgiveness emanated from within me
as the empathy ambrosia of divine fountain spree.
The emerging lenience suffused me with cool potion,
doused the fire within me by ardent absolution.
In the space of my bruised essence that mended slow,
I felt the benign breeze of prudent composure blow.
I rose from the ashes where the wronged feeling grew
to send from my tolerant heart good wishes to you.
I thought you were my good friend,
trusted you with faithful open mind,
but in difficult times you betrayed me
and I saw the mask you wore fall apart.
Your flashing deceptive eyes revealed
you seethed inside in inferno of anger,
the twisted tongue spilled out words,
smeared with toxin of malicious mind.
The scruples of sane sense turned into
embers erupting out from the wild fire,
flew in the spreading smoke of spite,
consuming the rays of reason you lost.
I didn’t run away from you to self-heal,
or sought shelter in the den of disdain,
nor did I ignite another flame within me
to face you and feel good in retaliation.
As a fire can’t ever extinguish or contain
another fire for it burns the linked space,
I confronted you with calm confidence,
the serenity of my soul you couldn’t blaze.
Flow of forgiveness emanated from within
as the embracing nectar of divine fountain,
empathy drenched me with cool shower,
tender touch of absolution doused the fire.
In the space of the transformed essence
I felt the benign breeze of calmness blow,
from the settled ash of wronged feelings
I arose rejuvenated and became wiser.
______________
June 26, 2022
Contest : Forgiveness
Sponsored by : Anoucheka Gangabissoon
He loved her very much (or so he said),
waiting for her every day with a gift,
His handsome face and cajolery led
her to trust him, a young woman adrift;
And then one day, they had a major fight,
he said sorry but she refused to talk,
He seethed within, longing to make it right,
Still, each time he tried, she would simply balk;
That fateful day, he tried to address her,
Yet, she would not cast him a second glance,
His pent up anger welled in him further
as he stabbed her neck in a mad, rash trance;
Every life is precious and God-given,
And a murderous deed once done is done,
If he repents, he may be forgiven,
Yet, he's entered that point of no return.
-----------------------
10.12.16
He walked into the dusty saloon,
maybe an hour after high noon,
his face still smooth with the touch of youth,
eyes dead-set on seeking out the truth.
He saw him there, two men at his side,
looking just like his mother described,
the scar, gold tooth...the cold countenance,
Silas knew that he had found his man.
He strode up and said, “You’re Dalton Wise,
you killed my father, so now you’ll die.”
Dalton and the two men looked amused,
said Dalton, “Who’s gonna’ do it, boy? You?”
They laughed again, and young Silas seethed,
said, “For his death, you will answer to me.
You took Joe Hamlin from my mother,
and brought no small deal of pain to her.”
The name caught Daltons attention quick,
“You claim your pa was that weak-willed twit?
Oh kid, your mother has told you tales,
that fool Hamlin did nothing but fail.
“Joe was a coward, a sniveling fool
tuck and ran when we treated him cruel,
a pasty lunger, barely could breath,
much less attract a woman to breed.
“There was a woman, Lauri, I think,
who screamed that we did terrible things,
she pitied the fool, got in the way,
girls shouldn’t trifle with men at play.
“I told her as much, but she kept on,
blathering how we treated him wrong,
one day while smacking that fool’s face in
she dared to stand between me and him.
“With hands on hips, she flustered and fumed,
‘Stop bullying him!’ he small voice boomed,
thinking we wouldn’t lay a finger
on a woman, that’s why she lingered.
“I slapped that yapping to the ground,
took aim and shot that fool Hamlin down,
dragged her to a barn when it was done,
I took my time…had a lot of fun.”
He leered and the other men both laughed,
said Dalton, “What you think about that?”
Silas felt his rage slowly turn cold
as more of this cruel story was told.
“Hamlin couldn’t be your pa,”he said,
“’cause when I took young Lauri, she bled.
Just looking at you, it becomes clear,
Joe weren’t your pa, he’s sitting right here!”
He thumped his chest, just to emphasize,
supreme confidence blazed in his eyes.
“So wipe that bravado off your mug,
we both know that you won’t kill your blood.”
He smirked at the two friends at his side,
not a one showed real fear in their eyes,
said Silas, “If there’s truth in your words,
then I’ll have to get revenge for her.”
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
I penned a great poem for a contest
Glowing comments stated it should place high
When winners appeared I became distressed
I'd failed to place and released a sad sigh
I silently seethed, didn’t breathe a word,
I held back tears, eyes started to glisten
The placing by this judge was so absurd
I held my tongue as no one would listen
The sponsor had been blatantly unjust
All the winners ignored one simple rule
'Winning’ poems used words of such disgust
That judge proved to be a dim-witted fool
I’ve now completed my sour grapes sonnet
If I’m on Mark’s list, I’ll eat my bonnet!
Sour grapes Sonnet Contest
* didn't counted as 2 syllables not 1 as per how many syllables
Poem written for sour grapes contest theme and is not aimed at any particular sponsor
8/16/18