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.


Midnight Dream.

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:


Futile Escape Out Clutches of Penury Rattle Tin Can Once

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

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.
Form: ABC

Me

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:

The girl who had a voice bigger than hatred But a heart that wanted to be accepted

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


Child Within Me

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

Parents evening

‘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
Form: Rhyme

Salute To Women's Day

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
age
Form: ABC

Mini Earthquake Experiences

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
Form: Rhyme

Jack 4

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

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace