Long Self defence Poems
Long Self defence Poems. Below are the most popular long Self defence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Self defence poems by poem length and keyword.
Louis the Fifteenth, king of France,
Adored Madame du Barry.
His royal ardor was not bound
To the person he did marry.
His paramour was hard to please.
The king brooded day and night
On what act of loving kindness
Might appease her appetite.
One day he called his jeweller,
Whose face turned pale, then green,
When told to make a necklace
The likes of which no eyes had seen.
Vanity of vanities! Let nobody forget:
All humankind proposes yields to a Higher Will.
For the king lay dead and buried
When it was time to pay the bill.
They asked:' Who has got the money?
Who is there so rich
As to settle payment
And haul us from this ditch?
Louis the Sixteenth was now king,
But not long on the throne.
To purchasing the necklace
He himself was prone.
His wife strongly objected.
She thought the whole thing crazy.'
'We need to spend on self-defence:
More vessels for the navy!'
Now Cardinal De Rohan was a worldly priest,
Not averse to 'oo la la.'
Especially not in the matter of
Jeanne de la Motte Valois.
As a young girl she was naughty,
But she confessed in style.
The priest let her off counting rosary beads
All for the sake of her sweet winning smile.
Jeanne told the cardinal
They could have a sales deal signed
As friends at court had signaled
That the queen had changed her mind.
The queen and cardinal soon met
And the queen signed with aplomb.
De Rohan was too befuddled
To sense something was wrong
The queen received the necklace
But the queen was not the queen.
Charming though the lady was,
Who knew where she had been?
The necklace was picked to pieces
And sold off part by part.
O woeful desecration
Of this glorious objet d'art?
The cardinal faced the music
A victim of delusion
'Gullable, not guilty,'
came the court's conclusion.
Madame de la Motte Valois
Had no basis for a plea
And she was branded on both arms
With the letter V.
This letter stood for 'Voleuse,'
Meaning in English 'thief.'
Somehow she got to London,
And there she came to grief.
When fleeing from her creditors,
She fell from an upper floor.
Those creditors she did escape,
But only at death's door.
During her interment
Wagging tongues spoke of her guile
But someone chirped in her defence:
'But she had such a sweet winning smile.'
it finally was acknowledged as a problem. something has gone wrong
we must LOOK BACK retrace our steps and explain why exactly
this corpse is still moving. hold the clipboards tightly- what should
have been told to us before is now SCREAMING IN OUR FACES
stand aside!! this is meant for the hands and the minds of professionals
so with a turned lever the motion falls and becomes still-------- transfixed
beyond knowledge at the awakening of a realm not seen not felt not
believed at all.
WE ALL JUST CROUCHED DOWN AND LOOKED UPWARD! OUR
EYES FALLING FROM THEIR SOCKETS! TIME STOPPED &YET
SIGHTLESSLY FLEW FAR FROM US! I WOULDN'T HAVE BELIEVED
IT_______ BUT I WAS THERE.
scripture printed out before everyone else it was shoved from the tables and
laughed away, the children reassured EVERYTHING IS FINE! if we stay
as we want to (dumbstupidignorantblind) would everything come as a
sweet surprise? though defined i saw it, kindly concurred, the block still
remained just as strong.
it was our hands that held up this belief of stability, this lie of gravity and
clarity. to tell the truth (which i hesitate to do) fear has no opposite for
it is ALL. though things can be bravely (&falsely) conquered our bodies
still tremble to blurs at the very mention of What Could Have Been.
murder is widely accepted as goodness when committed in the likes of
battle in the idea of safety- self defence. the enemy, we saw, fell
and mutated from life to death, and curled into a premature sham.
the rulers, with minds preoccupied with triumph over (backwards) terror,
smiled in relief and nodded their heads for us all to come out of cover.
THE EARTH IS FREE AND BEAUTIFUL ONCE MORE
THANKS TO THE INTELLIGENCE OF THE INTELLIGENT!! INNOCENCE
CAN NOW BE FEIGNED AGAIN!
but who was to expect that once the babies and the purities were
unveiled, that the phantom of man's technological defeat would rise
and again come forth in newly discovered ferocity? we were easy to overcome
------such souls we denied, living behind our very eyes, were tricked and
caught in the tremulous hands of revolting lust. and with our growing voices we
found ourselves declaring to the populations our declining state of
perspicuity.
I won’t hold my breath for the day you stop butchering us. We already have enough issues trying to breathe with you around. They said one should never bring a knife to a gunfight, can you ask them what they said about bringing tear gas to a protest?
Since you’ve made your story, his story, let us tell you our story. We’re not as good as you when it comes to telling myths, no high jumping cows, no dubious tales of self defence, and especially no white Jesus... No one believed that one
Our mother country was forcefully penetrated by the lust and greed you had for her creations. Meanwhile our father, time, was forced to watch, incapable of defending her, castrated of his pride. You left her lands infertile, you left his seeds incapable.
We went to the doctors for the ills you caused us. You murdered Dr King in ‘68, so we’ve been stuck in the waiting room ever since. Herbs and crystals our people once used to heal. The herbs you criminalised. The new crystals you put in our communities didn’t help, we also found out Mr Escobar sold them cheaper.
In consolation, we got to see a black man in the White House, if only you treated him differently to every other black man in a White House, just another house *****. But if the blue man lives in the farmhouse, and the red man isn’t even on the right continent, then why is the orange man in the White House? You never did know how to treat the coloureds right. Just ask Columbus and his ‘Indians’.
My friends had an intervention for me, tried to convince me I was in an abusive relationship. They don’t understand, it was my fault that you lynched me. I’m still pretty to you, that’s why you copy my hair, copy my clothes, copy my lips, even the complexion. Somedays it’s blackface, others it’s a Kardashian.
Maybe they are right, maybe it’s time we break this off. I promise. It’s not me, it’s you. This relationship has no more left to offer. We have no more artists, inventors or scientists we want to feed to your slaughter, and we’re sure you can have more fun without us. No one knows how to party like the conservative middle class, am I right?
You: The entitled, the privileged, the ignorant, the cruel, sadistic, enemy of peace.
He was only a sheepdog
But his death has bitten
Into my soul ever since.
As a pup we brought
Him from his home
In Ireland
Where supernumeraries
Are drowned
No small farm needing
More than one mutt.
His reddish brown brother
Had been our first choice
We were left , my father-in-law's choice,
With the black and white collie.
Now his residence would be
A Scottish housing estate
We all grew to love him
I became his alpha male
How his ears would prick up
And he would sit attentively
At the window,
Awaiting my usual time of arrival
With a welcome where,
With tail wagging furiously
His paws would reach up to my chest
As he sought to lick my face
From strength to strength he grew
A tireless walker,chewer of carpets
Chaser of sticks and thief of Sunday roasts
How we all used to smile
When he darted to the opposite end of the room
Whenever my son burst into tears.
This had to be his way
Of saying,"Don't blame me."
He was right at home
Running round the street
With a gaggle of kids
He found his true metier
On returning to the farm
Where he was born
For two days he sat
And watched his brother
Bringing in the cows
And then relieved him
Of his duties
This task he performed
With great gusto
While his brother skulked off
Glad to be relieved
Of his daily chore
He was so much at home
On the farm
Revelling in the freedom,
Enjoying the work
And he was so much bigger
And more energetic than his brother
Tragedy struck
On our return home
Tied to the garage door
To keep him from getting
Under my wife's feet
Meant he could not run away
When a little girl kept blowing
In his face
Self-defence saw him
Nipping her in the neck.
That is what sealed
His death warrant
Gloom settled over our home
That nip might have been fatal
Fatal it was for him
The death sentence was passed
That last long walk
Was our rush to judgment.
We walked slowly
His head hung low
Never had I known
Him so quiet
He entered the killing room
Unflinching and calm
The vet's needle did the deed
Seeing his young body
Stretched lifeless
On that cold dark slab
Has burned my soul
With remorse
Ever since
Inspired by Episode 4: "The Return" of Season 1 from "City Homicide", a brilliant Australian TV show.
The introduction quote to the show is: "No greater honour will ever be bestowed upon an officer than when they are entrusted with an investigation into the death of a Human Being."
There's a healing in the storms
By Michelle Morris
02/06/2023
You shot her son
In self-defence
He was a troubled teenager
On a criminal path
She knew that you
Felt badly about it
Despite the circumstances
Despite the necessity
She forgives you completely
She understands how you feel
Taking the life of another
Is always beyond surreal
People grieve in different ways
There's a healing in the storms
We either learn to dance in the rain
Or drown in our sorrows
Death is inevitable
For each and everyone
It's only the dying process
That's an action we can influence
Violence begets violence
We are all responsible for our choices
If we don't learn from light and love
We'll learn from darkness and trauma
You may need a lot of time to heal
But don't let the trauma stain your soul
You've done the best you could
With your conscience as a beacon home
People grieve in different ways
There's a healing in the storms
We either learn to dance in the rain
Or drown in our sorrows
You shot her son
But he was trying to kill you
Being a police officer is a calling
And using your weapon may be necessary
There is honour in your path
Even if it feels like a burden sometimes
His mother has forgiven you completely
Perhaps you could forgive yourself in time
Unburden your heart and soul
Remember that you are protected
You stand up for the good in the world
And we need you to continue to fight
People grieve in different ways
There's a healing in the storms
We either learn to dance in the rain
Or drown in our sorrows
© Michelle Morris, 2023
Recently I spoke to a young man.
Let’s say his name was John.
He told me all about his life,
And the things that he had done.
Coming from a broken home
and abused by someone close
he said he fell behind in reading and sums
receiving lower grades than most.
He left school aged just sixteen
Joined the army, felt there was nothing else.
He was taught how to march, to obey,
and how to kill. In self defence
He was told when to sleep.
When to wake, when to eat.
He was feeling content,
felt his life was complete.
He then was sent to the Afgan war,
returned with anxiety and stress.
The army he loved he had to leave,
His nerves were in a mess.
He moved into a bedsitter flat,
with the remains of his army pay.
Soon fell behind with the rent,
Was told ‘Get out right-away!’
Not knowing where to go,
he walked the streets by day.
At night sleeping on cardboard.
In a secluded shop doorway.
Passer-by’s ignored his begging pleas,
muttering ‘He is on the dole,
will spend money on drink and drugs.’
His medal proudly worn, some said he stole.
Then one night someone did stop,
helped him to his feet.
Took him to a sheltered home,
gave him something to eat.
He was taught how to read,
enrolled on an IT course.
He was shown where to seek help,
and said he was able to find some work.
Now he is a leader at the home,
helps others change their lives.
For those like he once was,
I asked if he had advice.
He said, ‘My friend, believe in yourself,
never have self doubt,
say to yourself each and every day,
I may be down, but not out.’
Justice is a lie fabricated by the white man
Benefited towards whiteness and proximity to it
It doesnt take generosity to see
That a system used to police would be against the black race
A system started after slavery -
Policing or incarceration
Once control of freedom was lost
They resorted to us being unjustly locked up
Justice was never made for us
It was just a quick solution to the problem -
Us
Their motive wasn't to protect and serve,
Except for the oppressors
It was to keep black people in chains with 'means and cause'
But really it was because the 13th ammendment had a loophole
A clause used as a weapon for control
Justice doesn't exist, it never did
A myth created by the monolith
Lies on the black man are excused
And when we're killed it's self defence
Because apparently being black is a criminal offense
Don't insult our intelligence
Trying to gaslight us into believing we're delusional
But it's hard to ignore when our eyes are constantly exposed -
To your unjust treatment
We are not blind to being targeted
It's not some hidden secret
It happens worldwide, you just willfully ignore it
Having power means you don't have to be cautious
You don't even have to explain the obvious
The oppressors own the narrative
When your privileged no one gets to question your decisions
Justice resides in the hands of those with pale skin -
Or those who are accepted within it,
Or to put it simply those with black or are mixed with black skin
'Justice' was only there to place us in prison
And to keep them the 'victims'
His underbelly is soft but please don't push his buttons
He looks rather docile if you simply leave him alone
Feeds on leaves and fruit and won't kill if you're tame
And respect the elegant majesty that treads firmly on grass
If treated correctly and let him be he is a friendly companion
He looks like a Unicorn adorned with a gregarious nose
Eats what nature has given only as much as he needs
Has few 'natural' predators other than human creatures
Who misinterpret their task on this planet as unruly force
And slay for fun or trophy hunting and belligerent pounce
Unlike Pinocchio he has two spikes a long and a short one
To use for foraging digging up water and breaking branches
But when threatened protects family kind with true honesty
Lowers his snout to the ground and locks intimidating horns
Charges only in self-defence and attacks as a last resort only
I wish I and my fellow *****sapiens comrades would copy
Such moral correctness rather than killing unneeded prey
Whereas rhinos use upright posture and magnificent skills
For sexual prowess and marking their own territorial ground
We grind their sharp body parts into aphrodisiacs myths
Sell to high bidders and pretend such behaviour is normal
Discard their mutilated bodies in a landscape of terror and
Wonder why sometimes they pierce in just retaliation
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you
And I do not wish my prominent bits on somebody's plate
21st December 2019
Cursed at birth, of anguish no dearth
For parents a liability, subject to partiality
Her studies are curtailed, her ambitions derailed
Childhood spent on household chores
Serving males one of her chores
Bound by chain, her childhood is slain!
Oh! The anguish, the pain...
After marriage another agony begins
Criticised endlessly, hurting words stings
Beaten by husband, living in fear
A busy life, eyes filled with tear
No house of her own, can't run away
Unemployment, illiteracy comes in her way
Bound by chain, she is endlessly slain!
Oh! The anguish, the pain...
Restrictions in dressing, restrictions in movements, restrictions in mannerisms, special rules and regulations...
Despite this she is forcibly plundered
Her only sign of life, her body is devoured
Bound by chain, her body is slain
Oh! The anguish, the pain...
Men are superior, she has to obey their order
A rapist, a beater, are men superior?
Insensitive to feelings and tear, are men superior?
How is she inferior can anybody explain?
Why only on her are placed so many restrain?
By not keeping her in equal plane, humanity is slain
Oh the anguish, the pain...
Oh women! Break the shackles of chain!
Now onwards, the slayer must be slain!
Fight for your daughter's education
Teach her self defence and protection
Teach your son's to feel and respect emotion
When our children we properly train
No woman will ever be in pain
Pure happiness will reign.
Date: 8/20/2020
If I become head of a country this is what I will do
Solve common problems of country men such that joy will ensue
Provide free food to all, life without food most miserable
Criminals are born when hunger pangs become unbearable
Standardize education, make it compulsory for all
Would provide food and hostel in school, it would be free for all
Study of scriptures, values compulsory subject in school
Nurture talents, vocational education, sports in school
All hospitals and doctors would give free medicines, treatment,
They would be paid by govt, no one would die for lack of treatment
All contest election as independent, on their own trait
One who gets most votes amongst others becomes head of the state
All using their own brains, no one following any leader
Many brains together deciding policies, not leader
Stop all wars, weapons manufactured only for self defence
War kills many, brings multiple miseries, wars make no sense
Stop space missions to other planets for they serve no purpose
Use that money for environment, other useful purpose
If I can make my countrymen happy, I will be happy
I feel head of state should solve problems, try to make all happy
Food, clothing shelter, education, health, blissful life
How many head of state solve these real problems of life?
29th March 2021
Syllable count checked at PS syllables counter
Inspired by :
Contest : What You Really Want
Sponsor : Richard Lamoureux