Long Stereotyped Poems
Long Stereotyped Poems. Below are the most popular long Stereotyped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stereotyped poems by poem length and keyword.
DARK DROPS TINKLING,
SOME SHADOW FIGURES HAUNTING.
ONE LAUGHING AT LOUD VOICE,
OTHER ONE HOLD THE BLACK ROD,
NEXT ONE ENCHANTING IN CYPHER LANGUAGE.
SUDDENLY THE SOIL DIG TRENCH,
THE TRENCH FILLED WITH HUMAN BLOOD,
FIGURES SIPPING WITH HOLLOW BONES.
HORRIFIED LAUGH ECHO TO TARTARUS,
BAD BLOOD BAD BLOOD FILTHY,
WE ARE SIPPING, HO! HO! SIPPING COLD.
EYES BLINK IN THE BOTTOM OF TRENCH,
PRIDE EYES STONED, DESIRE EYES BLIND,
THEY ARE PLAYING EYES AS BALLS.
THROUGH NERVE STRING GUITAR ONE TUNED,
ONE SING, FOUL LUST NERVE, FOUL TEMPT FIBROUS,
BURNT AWAY! BURNT AWAY!
WIZARDS CELEBRATED IN STEREOTYPED FEST,
BLUE SPIRITS BEMOAN ON THE DUST.
Form:
finds yours truly groveling along
February third 2022,
never linkedin - analogous to stray animal
without being befriended,
thus I don't belong
survival instincts taught yours truly
the necessity acting
courageous and headstrong
even if necessary
to stare down King Kong,
who actually shows me respect
such that every now and again
we play a game of ping pong
and on a crisp night
roast marshmallows kindle campfire
and sing Kumbaya song.
This tramp (which stereotyped
caricature familiarly epitomized
in countless Chaplinesque productions,
Dickensian tales,
oil paintings from
artistic hands of great masters
and others anonymous
exquisite painters, et cetera)
remembers practically nothing
of me nine-month stay in utero
birth, childhood nor early adulthood.
My amorphous gauzy,
hazy fractal memories
solely comprise fractured,
fragmented and splintered collection
of miserable experiences,
which characterize living
a hellacious hand to mouth
hard scrapple existence.
Past wispy vestiges of wretchedness
and now present woebegone existence
seems a worse fate than death.
The overpowering urge to survive
and summon up one barely audible
l’chaim utterance against the depredations
of the grim reaper only found
nothing but defeat.
That daily dismal
grinding away of last shreds
of a purpose driven life fending off real
and imagined threats sought salvation
in a vividly encased jammed
preserve of mine imagination
an existence awash with ample
trappings of comfort.
Homelessness
Homelessness is not an illness, People have lost their damn minds with a bunch of silliness. People who are homeless get stereotyped as Alcoholics, Mentally ill, Panhandlers, and Drug users, Whoever says this about all homeless people is a bunch of losers. The homeless take care of each other and give a little shove, We share what little things we have with each other with lots of love. Some in today's society are wanting to push the homeless away out of sight are out of their mind, People who look down on those who are less fortunate are not so kind. Let's reflect on the that Jesus Christ our Savior had no bed, He was homeless, and didn't have anywhere to lay his head.
Me, I never learn from teachers
Could not speak till middle school
So I learned intuition from those who don't hear
Can't vocalize at speed of thought
Graduated five credits short by my words and thought
After being misunderstood, stereotyped and judged
by a equal man who looks down on those who don't
Fit in to the mold of him and discredited message
By way of being biast to propaganda and media
thoughts.
I don't wish to offend the art
But I have held nothing but words
I was to humble to speak
I tried to hide and searched for death
But my words are not mine there sent
And until I face fate I am unable to enter the gate
I wish not credit, for this is essence above a unique
soul
I can't speak these parables
To be scrutinized by those who follow only gold
From alpha to the end
There has been the essential divinity
In all so life could grow, love laugh, sin
Spoken word is to be cherished and honored
Only if bold, not self serving, and reasonable
To all human kind.
So what makes you upstanding
Arrogance, or hand picked syllabus
Which is of no relevance in the truth you are denying
Form:
She was the girl that went unnoticed
She kept herself small, she didn't want to be the focus
But deep in her pockets
Her biggest secret
She was a poet
It wasn't some big revelation
Like she had already known it
Her lack of confidence wouldn't let her do it
But little did she know she was already chosen
When she was born her ancestors had spoken
She was the one to give them their moment
Throughout the years she had been bullied
She had learned to hate her skin colour
So she made herself invisible
Only speaking when some spoke to her
To nervous, to scared
To be stereotyped and met with judgement
She learned silence was a friend but also a weapon
She didn't know how to exist in a world that saw her as a problem
Then one day she saw this beautiful notebook
She thought to herself that this was a message
Not sure from who
But she felt like it had something to do with her lineage
The girl was observant
Her gift was watching
Each poem dedicated to a lifetime of experiencing
What it was like to not being treated like a human being
Her words spoke more than her mouth ever did
Her eyes the foundation of everything
What she was scared to speak on she bravely wrote
Secretly hoping that one day her her words could help someone
Even if it gave them a little comfort
She wrote about her own experiences of racism
Gaining the confidence to speak of injustices unknown
Speaking on the forgotten
For once in her life she didn't care what they said
Even if it meant she'd end up dead
She knew how to anger The racist system
She wouldn't hide and she'd lift up her head
To let them know she loved her blackness
Her ancestors watched like a proud parent
For the first time in her life she felt confident
Now infront of a crowd she stood up and read
All the poems she had written in silence
This was a moment
Her and the crowd would never forget
Most people although aged
are very much young at heart
They love to dance and play
They get excited in small things
How many old and middle aged would love to behave like young?
Full of joy and enthusiasm
Well... Most of them
That day during a cricket match
I made a bet with son
As my team hit sixes and fours
I clapped and jumped in joy
I even danced an awkward dance
My son said Mom you don't behave like fifty
I said I don't care, I want to enjoy
We all laughed, we had lot of fun
I do whatever my mind says
Sometimes child like and silly
I am young at heart
Such acts keep me always happy
I often wonder why should one behave as grownup
when still a child at heart
Why can't we be our true self
Instead of following stereotyped world
It is so much fun to be a child
Just be and see
I got these words from dictionary:
Enthusiasm, Awkward, Stereotyped, Self, Child
Date: 10/14/2020
Winner 1st position
‘She’s doing excellent’ -
B-U-T,
She could speak up more,
Maybe even -
Participate
To the girl -
Something does not sit right,
She DOES participate,
So why does this teacher lie,
She can’t help but feel undermined -
Whenever she speaks in class, she is stereotyped
On the inside she cries,
On the outside she smiles -
In fear the teacher will tell another lie
Her parents notice but they don’t pry,
They empathise, because they understand why
They know if they speak -
She’ll be expelled,
And this is the best school in their town,
They don’t want to ruin her chances, to become what they couldn’t,
The daughter understands, this happened to them as well
A salute at being a woman
Being a woman
What does that mean
A success story of a dream
A nurturer a rider
A provider
Someone who makes things happen
Even when there are a lot of distractions
They are like math
They take fractions
And divide them
With you right beside them
They rule the world
Yes
You don't have to second guess
The power of a woman
You see
The power of a woman doesn't need a degree
It needs to be sought
It can't be bought
And visions and decisions
We make them
Credit we will take them
When I speak on credit I'm talking about credit that's due
Look at it from a different view
Whether you are a mother daughter sister or friend
You can win
We've been stereotyped whether we are doing wrong or right
We put up a fight
We have a voice
That needs to be heard
We have the right words
If it occurred
We are amazing phonemomnal but out of all of it we are humble
Even when we stumble
We get back up
One thing about us
We are never stuck
But if we are
Stuck we have the power to dig ourself out of a hole
We are in control
Yes
We are at our best
We have tears that have dropped y
We have situations we couldn't stop
We Had things we has to sacrifice our time our self
To be of help
You see being a woman
Is amazing we are wonderfully and fearfully made
By our heavenly father
I'm a precious daughter
Yes I am
Anything we want to conquer we can!!
Let's keep each other empowered
By the day the second and hour
Unity sisters yes
We are beauty at its best
Strong ambitious
Ambitious and strong
Courageous
Spirit is contagious
Everyone wants to be around
We are the sound of an elegant beat
We are the rhythm of soulful feet
We are the petal to a Rose
We can loose alot bit never self control
We are all that and more
We are the ones to be adored
Not ignored
We carry the hurt pain and tears and have overcome fears
I have so much more to say
Happy National Women's day
Written by Concetta Hardnett
03/08/2023
Experienced a third bigger earthquake recently but this poem I wrote for a smaller earthquake years ago)
My first trivial tremor experience had been in Southern Africa
And now this puny earthquake I felt in Tanzania.
I saw every thing waltz to and fro and lightly shake
Bottles turned ballerinas dancing slightly to the quake
I watched glass decors on the walls quiver and jolt
Scaredy me was half asleep, no wonder didn't bolt
I thought I was dreaming or imagining things
My bed and chairs converted into gentle swings.
All vials and vases
jiggled to dance a jig
The lil horrors over
So I cast humor's wig
Ah when began rattling, the knick knacks on my dresser
Was when it dawned upon me in horror
That this was really an early dawn tremor.
I phoned some friends but those early risers
Hadn't even noticed or felt those tremors
I bet they thought I was spreading false rumours
After all poets are stereotyped as fanciful philosophers.
My cell phone keypad became my panic button in a flurry
Of course I wanted all to be alerted, alarmed in worry
Nobody believed me until it was announced in our mosque
And every body was then called by muezzin to pray the signs prayers
Then every body knew the tremor was no hoax
Some patted me for being the first to notice this shaking of earthly layers
Of course I thanked God this was no major earthquake
I've heard in other places how terribly the earth can crack and shake
Who else but God could I owe my heartfelt gratitude
For this being my 2nd low power tremor in magnitude
As it measured low on the Richter scale
based on the seismic waves' amplitude
But the earth was shaken and I too was shaken
No pics of the shivering axis were taken
Todate runs down my spine such a shiver
On recalling how the mother earth did quiver
I have seen videos of earthquakes where the earth juggles things
like a salt shaker
May God protect us from such a waker and breaker
I lived so many years in a stupor being capable of turning crystals green
Now I’m sober it’s different and naturally alters my state of mind
Experiencing a wider range of feelings than I felt before
Emotional intelligence can be an awkward companion though
With heightened emotions my feelings become more revealing
And revealing is exactly what it is and can lay you bare
In the past when limited to anger and lust it seemed an easier place
Supposedly strong and able to cope, with a glass permanently in hand
Just accepting not being able to see, or so it seemed
Life was a breeze back in those hazy days when totally blind with drink
Lack of confidence or shyness masked with a cloak of inebriated skills
Popular and sociable but really an island of loneliness in an ocean of friends
Any social gathering, I was the first through the door and the last to leave
Not sure when it happened but I started to dislike myself
Like a stereotyped actor playing characters I no longer believed in
Knowing where I was heading, I felt something seriously needed to change
Sometimes I wonder how it is that the new simple can be so complicated
There seems much more to balance with a supposedly clear head
But can your head be clear if your mind is cluttered with so many thoughts
Clarity appears to bring overthinking which sometimes doesn’t help
When the darkness descends it weighs much heavier than before
So I tell myself that I need to plant my feet firmly and embrace reality
But that’s hard to do when unsure of what or who you are
I don’t understand myself sometimes so how to explain to others
I need my head in country roads not speeding down motorways
Not easy when life requires a bullet train but I yearn for the orient express
It’s true that life is full of challenges but often the biggest of all is ourselves