Long Sneers Poems
Long Sneers Poems. Below are the most popular long Sneers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sneers poems by poem length and keyword.
ages of death, past deeds done
corridors of history,we beat our drums
yesterday's blood, washes our hands
armies we march, bring out the band
we carry sorrows, for all mankind
they run through our veins, crawl like vines
tomorrow we say, we'll find peace
reality is, death always feasts
bright expectations, a promised ring
nothing but war, it's what man's heart sings
greed and corruption, food for his soul
blood flows from his hands, calloused and cold
struts through the ages, death is his quest
pounds two fists, upon his chest
I am here, he screams, for all worlds to hear
looks to Heaven with disgust and sneers
man is sick, hate in his heart
cripples his soil, all its part
tomorrow extinction, he'll be no more
a blemish on nature, an open sore
hope is surpreme, last minute stay
from all the evil committed this day
some cry out, save us our fate
cry never heard, it came too late
ashes remain, to cover man's face
nature begins anew, let them state their case
12/28/15
*****
A weather forecast :
Expect frozen rain, snow squalls.
Warning! Please stay home.
The angry gray clouds
taunts the calm wind's, sneers ~ Please blow!
Gusts fiercely ~ GO!
The cold, chilly rain
changed from rain to clear sleet.
propels ice pellets.
The clear ice frolics.
across the clear window pane.
Hurling and twirling
With temperature change
The ice turned to fluffy snow.
Harsh winds bring blizzards.
Two-foot-high snow drifts
thermometer rises, snow melts.
A warm, sunny day
The weather forecast:
Expect frozen rains, snow squalls.
Warning! Please stay home.
The ant is one who works all day
and barely sleeps at night
Seldom is he, if ever
fearful of an unjust or a losing fight
He lives to serve a queen
and she he seldom sees
but he is hers in mind and soul
to do with as she please
She dictates and rules to all her breed
with a simple yes or no
for she is the queen and her word is law
this we all know to be so.
But the queen behind her mask she sneers
at the knave of an ant and all his peers
who work all day and through the night
and fight the battle of a losing fight
and believe that because of her
what they do is right
Yes, we are all like ants one and all
constantly ignorant of our own minds' call.
Your renegade heart, so darkly pure
Once scarred by light found insecure
Our momentum of romanced waves converged
Drowning all foundations of reserve
But my faint mount failed to keep pace
Across your tangled steeplechase
When every question was a crime
Smug sneers met any need of mine
Callowness furled in fickle curls
How you despised the unrepentant world!
Yet, I thank you for this cruel clarity
For if you are the villain, the hero is me
So I flew on wings shed of regret
With a strength you'd like me to forget
Now, my second-hand heart, though incomplete
Even ragged, tattered and stitched - still beats.
8/05/20
There is no better enemy than ones’ loving family and friends
For it is they who know all the ifs' and where your troubles begin
No need to look outward but to only look within
The company of those that surprisingly come to mind
They who come around you either often or all the time
They say they’ll support and stand by You _ thick or thin
Truth is they’re only present _ to glorify your end
How else will they assure you’ll see their smirky sideways grin.
You’re prepared for your foes to come from where __ who really knows?
You know only heaven can tell what evils can compel
The force of ill-fate for you to partake
From their greed, jealousy, and hate
They’re astounded by your struggles, your turmoil, and your woes.
All the pleasure earned and reaped by no better foes
Strange isn’t it that when you crawl out from under your bed
No voices of cheers but sneers and jeers heard in its’ stead
Ridicule and mockery, should haves and could haves ...
If I’d known better; I surely would have _
Not confide in most of those around me.
For the last thing, I need _ is a better enemy.
!!!W10-09-20
One hundred years from now
as we record our past deeds
and hang them in the dark corridors of history
will we wash the blood from our hands
gather the armies, bring out their bands
or carry the sorrows of mankind
that drips from our veins, crawls like a vine
tomorrow
we'll say, there will be peace
reality shows, death always feasts
expectations on wings are what our mouths bring
time has revealed it's war our heart's sing
greed and corruption weaves through our souls
as blood falls from our fingers, calloused and cold
"I AM HERE"
is what we scream, for all to hear
as we stare into the heavens, with disgust and sneers
for we are sick, hate grows in our heart
it cripples our soul and all of its part
tomorrow
we'll cease and be no more
we're a blemish of nature, an open sore
hope always reigns for the last minute stay
some will cry out, "save us from fate"
the cries will be heard ages to late
winds will blow the dust from the plains
revealing scattered footprints left in the hard clay
5/20/18 contest In 100 Years
Deja Vu; I believe that's what knowing minds call this anomaly.
Another Baroque tinged ballroom boasting bona fide blue-bloods.
Poorly feigned elan for the singing dilettante causing the cacophony.
The ennui in the room due, I'm sure, to the
artistic Carte Blanche given the chirping dud.
It's time someone demonstrate "avant-garde;" give them an actual reason for the sneers.
So on my way out I'll loose this brassiere and with a toss add some "bulbs" to the chandelier!
01/24/2018
(It's 10 lines on my tablet :D)
Assigned words:
Anomaly, Avant-garde, Baroque, Bona fide, Cacophony, Carte Blanche, Deja Vu, Dilettante, Elan, Ennui
A classroom is a lonely place
For a child who feels unloved
For a child who sees the sneers
For a child who thinks they understand the whispers
Feeling each ugly one has his name on it
The classroom is a tortuous cell for a child who has moved eight times
A child who cannot read, a child who does not understand numbers
Because they have missed the basics or see things in a different way
A classroom is a teasing place for a child who has no friends,
For a child who is not invited to parties.
For a child whose best friend moved last month.
A classroom is a jail cell for some children
They suspect their wardens are mean and unforgiving
Posing as teachers, but how can they trust them
When they cannot trust their own parents?
“It’s not what they say when you are there, it’s what they whisper after you leave.” ~~ Actor - Errol Flynn ~~
Whispers as you hurriedly pass them by.
Whispers that can really make you cry.
Those whispers filled my head with doubt.
I didn’t realize what being poor was all about.
Whispers about the clothes that I wore.
Whispers as if it was a crime to be poor.
Rumors were rife in the school yard.
Those whispers really did make life hard.
Invited to parties, I didn’t want to go.
All snickering. Did they think I didn’t know?
I know bringing a gift of a potted plant wasn’t right.
Their whispers didn’t even wait till I was out of sight.
Whispers continued when I was a teen.
The rumors got worse the whispers were mean.
Slowly but surely, I overcame their sneers.
Learning to be proud of who I am over the years.
I met a man who loved me for who I am, I knew.
And how good it felt when he whispered, I love you.
In late October the reddest moon didn't change its phase,
it remained in the same spot to watch the witches' ballet;
the loud music matched the mood of the mystical night: tambourines
and flutes frantically played; sneers, jeers, giggles of the wildest witches
mixed with the goblins' roars while they danced around a huge, hot fire.
I smelled a foul odor, the wild dogs feasted on a bloody oar,
" Leave some for us, or we'll turn you into bats! "
the hunched witch snarled with menacing eyes,
but they roared and threatened her with sharp teeth,
then Olga began to speak Latin words to cast
a spell on them and before it worked, they fled.
Glad that they had left, she dragged the dead animal
and hung it on a long rod to roast on the sparking fire;
hungry witches continued to dance with forks and knives
in their hands, anxiously waiting for their Halloween treat.