Long Slogan Poems
Long Slogan Poems. Below are the most popular long Slogan by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slogan poems by poem length and keyword.
killing for love? we should out grow it
unless it's for deceivers and you know it
those less fortunate charity recievers
those pretty eye's and nails
masscara that never fails
those that are witty for a reason
allways dressed up for the season
when you speak their eye's are wide open
tabulating the latest slogan
until something better comes along
then swoops the shadow of lonliness
what happened to that pressence
what happened to that smile
why so suddenly anothers child
a shared togetherness for a short while
feeling so used like a rung on a ladder
the dirt from your shoes on my face
my pursuit of you a public disgrace
and when i finally see, like the prodicals son
my first thought about a gun
who? what for the reader may ask
the world cannot keep the both of us
Among a stone-wreathed, sun-fried declivity
On earth’s raised stomach, a shack. Common
With the nervousness of heat, such shack-up
Points bury their heads in shame forever...
School hours brought me to such beginnings,
Such introductions, transient and loosely
Translated into vulgar languages aired by
A hairless harum scarum – MY LANDLADY!
Her vowels, resonant with crudity, frayed the
Walls, reaching the cruel apex of wanton folly,
Embellished with tattered pollutions of crimson
Air. Her consonants, tongue in cheek, jeered at
Remote efforts applied to disarm a vector with
Borrowed proboscis. Paraphrased sex lined up
Lips that chewed with primed caution, when
Pressed to announce, through optimistic,
Sarcastic leverage:
‘YOUR RENT IS DUE! ’
But the moon always winked at me. All four
Phases richly painted, slowly sketched to crawl,
And not by any fast means, run. The seasons
Nudged me to remind me they were not yet run
Over by the wheels of time.
But she befriended the calendar, stiff with hard
Resolutions to turn over her pages. By a runnel’s
Course, she evoked the late principles of buried
Time, calculating the length of days, the width of
Nights and the circumference of her wilted
Patience. Hourglass was polished clean to reflect
The sun’s glare through holes pierced by decibels
Of eastern hymns, composed before the waking of
Larks, when like an underpaid courtesan, she would
Hammer her now contagious sign-slogan, but
Now robustly rephrased:
‘YOUR RENT IS OVERDUE! ’
Because this here is your passing
out parade doth your cap and gown
This here I don't know if you if you are
aware or know it yet
But also the end of what was once
your student life I hope you kissed
it a fond farewell and goodbye
As your days spent on scholastic
dissertation theoretical drunken debate
expressing your altruistic views putting
the world's wrongs to right in some or
other cheap backstreet pub
And pack away your monogrammed
slogan t-shirts and swap your long hair
and man-bun for a short back and side's
Because you my friend I am sorry
to inform have finally just crossed over
to the dark side
Welcome to the big wide world we have
been expecting you
And though you now have in your possession
a certificate denoting you are university
standard educated and have letters
to accompany your name as proof
Nothing you learned or where taught
be that even higher level education
would or could possibly have prepared
you for the harsh reality life has in-store
And unlike school which eventually
runs and has a predetermined course
over a precise timeline
Life means life and the remainder of
your's has just begun starting now
The time has come for you to put your
degree to some use find a job buy
a car and a house somewhere to rent
or buy
And oh did I forget to mention most
importantly of all
Start paying back whatever student loans
you took out compounding interest that
got you where you stand today
Until your 10 year graduation reunion
comes around and is the 1 and only
topic of discussion that everyone
still have left in common
Same old people as before now
just all grown up replaced with
long drawn faces
That once sparkled with aspiration
instilled with dream's of changing
the world and making it a better place
Who now wish for nothing more than
to be able to put food on the table and
go to sleep without the fear of the power
being cut off
Not the 3rd degree or lecture
Candy placed her towel on one of the many shelves that separated the weight-lifting area of the gym from that of the stationary bikes and treadmills. Tossed casually next to the towel were two keys – one for her house and one for her car, together on their cute chain with the slogan: No pain, no gain. She decided to begin her workout with bicep curls. As she strode to the spot she wanted, she smiled to see that nobody was occupying that particular piece of equipment. Someone stood a short distance from where Candy had tossed her towel and keys. A shop right next to the gym made copies of keys. He had been biding his time, but today he would grab her keys and get a copy made of the house key.
The nondescript man, dark-haired and of medium stature, fancied himself quite inconspicuous in his plain gym attire: gray sweat pants and an unremarkable shirt to match it. He stared at the young woman, but the expression on his face gave no indication of whether he devoured her visually with disdain or with pleasure. He seemed to think the trim sexy blonde took no notice of him. He could not have been more wrong!
Candy indeed had noticed the man immediately upon her arrival. He was the same creep she saw almost every other time she came to the gym, which would be once or twice a week, depending on her schedule. She made a mental note of the day and hour. It matched up to the other times she’d seen him. He was a Tuesday/Thursday evening kind of guy. She wondered if he thought she were blind to not notice him eyeballing her. What audacity he had! Suddenly, she saw him move toward the very shelf where she had placed her keys. Hmmm, she thought, what is that creep up to? Candy pretended not to notice when she saw him take her keys and then slide casually out of the gym. She decided to follow him. A plan was already forming in Candy’s pretty little head.
Sept. 19, 2022 for Matt Caliri's Chapter 1 Poetry Contest
(tentative title and beginning 3 paragraphs for my one idea for a thriller mystery novel that has been on my mind for a long time. I know the direction I want it to go, but I just can't decide how I would end it!)
Let it breathe—
not as a slogan carved in stone,
nor as a promise rehearsed at rallies,
but as a living thing,
fragile as morning light,
restless as a people denied.
For democracy is not a throne
where power sits unchallenged;
it is the trembling voice
that dares to question the throne.
It is not the ballot alone—
ink on a finger fades—
but the courage behind the hand
that refuses to be bought,
refuses to be broken.
Let it breathe
through dissent,
through the stubborn tongues of truth,
through the uneasy silence
that follows a lie exposed.
For when voices are caged,
democracy suffocates—
not with noise,
but with the quiet death
of meaning.
A nation does not fall
when its enemies gather at the gate;
it falls
when its people forget
that freedom is a duty,
not a gift.
Let our democracy breathe
in the streets where justice walks uneasy,
in the courts where truth must not kneel,
in the hearts of those
who choose integrity
over convenience.
For power, unchecked,
is a slow poison—
sweet at first,
then fatal.
And silence—
silence is its closest ally.
So let us speak,
not as rebels without cause,
but as custodians of a fragile flame;
knowing that to keep it alive
we must guard it
even from ourselves.
Let our democracy breathe—
not perfectly,
but honestly;
not loudly,
but freely.
For in its breath
lies the soul of the people,
and in its silence
their slow disappearance.
He has no laser vision, and he lacks the gift of flight.
He has no rocket car to drive; his clothes aren’t even tight.
He's a stranger to Metropolis and Gotham’s out of reach
So he spends a lot of time just South of Erie’s beach.
He fell from space and landed hard, in Cleveland, USA.
It’s not somewhere he’d choose to be, if he could have his way.
He thinks Ohio's pretty drab, and something’s gotta change
perhaps he’ll run for president; come now…it’s not THAT strange.
He can start in NYC, a sleepy little town…
to test the slogan that he’ll use: America, Get Down.
He’ll fix his tie, and light a smoke; he'll practice his quack-fu.
The platform that he's running on is always-tell-it-true.
Trump vs. Clinton’s getting old, those two both really suck.
So next year when you’re at the polls, vote: Howard the Duck!
05/27/15
Entry for Comic Book Characters
Hosted by: Shadow Hamilton
*edited 9/16 to reflect the appropriate Republican (debatable...but whatever) candidate.
Guess who is coming to dinner?
Didn’t expect it
Didn’t even invite
It was the President’s request
Give or take
The President of the United States wants to have dinner at my house
Why my house, go figure
He won’t be a king
I am the king, and it’s my house
Dinner won’t be anything fancy, just cheap
I will order from Burger King, McDonald’s and Chicken Delight
You know the slogan, “Don’t cook tonight call Chicken Delight”
Why should I cook?
The President has prices in a mess
In fact, I feel as a voter, I should be invited to the White House
The President will have to bring the wine if he is going to dine
Since the President is cheap on “We the People”
He will get a taste of his own menu
My house is plain and simple
I should invite the GOP and Democrats to be witnesses at this dinner
Make a party out of it
Invite the media
I intend to show the President in how to be a Humanitarian
I will take action
Just watch me work
The President is lucky I won’t be serving layovers.
Promises sweet promises of the melancholy
Swaying too and fro back and forth aboard a rocking chair
In tandem and in tune to the rhythm of the wind blowing through the chimes
From the front porch looking out above the greenest
hedge and white picket fence
Waiting for the warning bell on the gate to sound the alarm
Danger , Danger trespassers approaching
They have breached the last line of defense
No longer can it be known or said
That a man's home is his castle
When not only does he have to defend his home and borders against foreign forces but is also dogged by the enemy within
So gather all the shell's and stockpile all the powder the muskets can muster and cover them in ink
Border up the window's and emblazon them with the slogan in capital letters that leaves no ambiguity
We won't be taken alive
If all we value and our way of life is to be lost and pulled from underneath us
Better then to fight and die by the sword if it be proven to be mightier than the pen
Than to live enslaved under hate metered out by ignorance
and violence
Virtual Insanity Becomes World Reality
The accursed news, so obviously painful to this poetess!
That we earthlings decided were in need no of divine intervention.
Yes…wanting none of God's love or, attention?
Oh, indeed some not only scoff but pay no heed to God’s direction?
Get real,my intellectually bright friends!
How many more bodies do you in realized need?
El Paso, Dayton, and Chicago where streets …
Are strewn with bobies, blood thirsty keen.
Say what? We are headed for WW III?
But you…..yes you…. you, and I pretend, writing of only Spring?
That body count…not high enough?
Attacks on police is your kind of stuff?
The unethical scoundrels who adore the shadow of death.
Care not of Middle Eastern nor Hungarian precious breath!
The more, the better, the more votes,they get? Ah?
Just to take away their heavenly breath!
For with God, lost Americans have absolutely no deptH.
No laws bring peace, as we have none in place.
We exist in an era where the slogan is"In your face".
And for our animosity and no respect for God, we ,fault the Police?
We taunt law keepers,…not law breakers, that is the truth!
And who will you call when help in needed,a lost soul withot a tooth?
The head of a gang, perhaps?
Who gives not violent a rap for you!
Americans, be especially aware.
The Polce shortage is so horribly bad.
Six-thousand 411, calls coluld not be
answered.
My friends, we have been totally had!
Be ready to protect your own buttoxe!
The Police cannot save we lads and lasses.
Hamas is worldwide, Nazi Germany reborn.
Will people hear me, no, from realitynews they are born!
Their march in streets worldwide, blowing the death horn!
3/20/2025
''Although only breath,words which I command are immortal''-Sappho, The Lover of Lesbos
The Lover's Lane Sermon. Uncensored Version
Klevahs jive with hollow echoes,streets glow like fake scenes,
Slaap Jans parade as greatness,hollow hearts clap along,
Pleasure devours the thoughtful,noise replaces silence-
We are caught flat-footed in limbo.
They worship nyaope,ignore the forge of truth,
Truth bending Influencers preach, Vloggers sermonize,
Top shayelas reigns and the meek pretend wisdom-
The Springbok sees the deceit.
Tomorrow will mock them,their children inherit shadows,
Malls,taxi ranks,hearts unsung,flames extinguished,
The music of courage lost,echoes fading in skyscrapers-
Regret will stalk their lives
I lament the death of song,ink drowned in apathy
Lover's letters lost in feeds,silenced,poems scrolled away
Wisdom left unread,memory hollowed by light-
The Secretary Bird mourns alone
Leaders smirk from gilded chairs,blind to justice,
Corruption glitters, where virtue once held sway,
Yet look to the ancients: Suzman,Blackman,Harmse
Mothers of wisdom guide the lost.
Return to fire,not fashion,return to song,not slogan
Seek beauty in duty,love as flame,not fleeting-
Let truth rise,let courage blaze anew,
Flames heal-if we risk the blaze.
Guide to The Uncensored Lover's Lane Sermon:
In your reading of this fragment be guided like this
Stanza 1- The Eternal Blaze
Stanza 2: The Falsehoods
Stanza 3: What moderns will regret
Stanza 4: What Sappho herself regrets
Stanza 5:Flawed leadership/Moral regeneration
Stanza 6: The solution to all of mankind's problems
Beautiful friends of Sappho:
Suzman: Helen Suzman
Blackman: Molly Blackman
Harmse:Hellena Susana Harmse
Click languages terms:
Kaas-The lokasie,the kasie,the location,the township.All places where black South African live
klevahs-the wise guys
Slaap Jan-A know-nothing
top shayelas-the high living
nyaope-drugs
tounship-township