Long Sterility Poems
Long Sterility Poems. Below are the most popular long Sterility by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sterility poems by poem length and keyword.
When there's no gold to be gained. Nor oil to be sipped.
Nor lithium to be sniffed.
The parasitic class will get rather restless.
When there's a hint of peace, they cringe.
Because their pocketbook begins to thin.
They'll concoct conflict, then heavily promote it to justify it.
War makers laugh at the working class.
Use their children as cannon fodder
for the sake of a dollar.
But they'll never lead the charge.
War slithers at the speed of sin and greed.
The wicked always dream in blitz and eugenics.
As their needle screams cure but only brings misery.
While dripping sterility and death.
Their seeding clouds that weep mighty toxins
Our ranks are quickly thinning.
They think of us as their cattle
flanks to be branded and prodded
not worthy enough for living.
When the desperate reach for peace and tranquility.
The parasitic class chops their hands with orchestrated cleave.
When the poor climb for the summit of dreams.
The profiteers manufacture landslides and broil.
A division in the liberty bell, a concocted hell.
An enraged population is their iron seed.
Our fear and division are their twin shields.
Finally, our silence is fruit in their fetid basket.
Wars will always commence...
Because ego and greed crave the taste of our death.
Love and unity will be sabotaged by the parasitic class.
They proudly wear our mayhem and fear like a pelt.
They've traded in Christ and the blood of children
to bloat the dowry of hellhounds and devils.
From the fear and blood of our children,
they wish to glean eternal life ..
But their arrogance breeds only ignorance....
Blight in the dead end of an endless night.
Now that I have gotten that over with,
Being straightforward as a piss-ant on fire,
Telling you it just is what it is,
That behind all the frizz,
Is a beardless fake whose heraldic bearings
Are the arms of a sickly snake,
And that all this derogatory self-derision is decisively the result
Of a disease smitten assault by a prodigal bug
Whose virility is known to create sterility of poetic taste-
Oh what a waste to find oneself in such a caste,
Outcast in a landless mire of sea,
Where there is no Sea king to lead back to land,
Where seeking leads not to seeing
But only to being the miserly plot written by this poetasters hand-
Now, to repeat, that I have gotten that over with,
I can really try,
Once and for all,
To really get it over with.
Like really really real.
So here it is,
In medias res,
The big ordeal:
Merde! Merde!
J’ai oublié on this very day,
To have taken my ressurectine,
The nectar which this fool requires with some dismay
To not forget his pointless points.
Where is my medicine Edison?
Where is my pill?
How shall I cart this over the hill?
O’sir,
Dear sir,
For in the middle of this rabid petri dish of sheer excitement,
Close to moiety’s shribble,
With voice shrill,
Ready to take aim and avoid all shame,
I was, I was, I was, I swear
Almost there,
But alas,
I am,
Now out of gas,
With nothing more to gain,
A timid loveless swain,
A witless poet with no further words to amass,
A neutered puppy in a jungle,
Without a rumble,
To stumble upon just the right word,
To close off looking less like a turd,
Then this early morning bird,
Preferably one day,
Could theoretically mumble.
Did I mention that between finding Absolute Knowledge,
And miming Absolute Knowledge,
I would like to find myself snuggly ensconced in the arms,
Of not only Winnie the Pooh,
But surely Yogi Berra too?
This is the day that flattened the city:
shock wave, clothes burnt off;
“This is what they have done, tell everyone.”
Radiation penetrating into sickness
> sterility.
That was the day when all was laid waste.
This is the day they stood up on the mount:
awed, as His clothes shone.
“This is my beloved Son, listen to him.”
Radiance transfiguring, three with One worshipped
> fruitfully.
That was the day which uplifted mankind.
Now is the time for faith to hold on:
declared to be heard;
“This is the light of the world, behold Him.”
Vesture of truth shining, penetrates, conceiving
> fertility.
Now is the time for peace rising.
When they carry me out of here, they’ll first have to take me from my bedroom to my sitting room, squeezing through the narrow hallway connecting the two, in order to then re-open the in-ward swinging door through which they entered my apartment. They’ll then have access to the stairway descending to the ground floor exit and be able to angle me down and bear me to the outside world, never to return again. But in the brief time they’ll have stood in my sitting room, they will likely have judged it to be a place “of cleanliness and good order,” with everything in its place, reminiscent of a furniture store show room. I hope they’ll also have taken notice of the photo of my smiling children on the end table by my chair. Given the sterility of all the rest, it is the only tangible evidence that a life ever actually occupied that room other than to keep it tidy. Whoever packs up that photo when they clear out my things had better treat it with reverence and respect; I know they loved me.
On twilight's sinking bridge, Nyx's waves swell
With an ethereal wand casts, dark, bewitching spell
O'er deep crevasse, spreads her enchanting veil
A glittering panorama of lights ballasts infinity
Moonbeams, star streams, and planet gleams form trinity
With blipping dots, beeping dashes cosmic dust braille
Heavenly bodies over the dark seas parasail
Orion's silted bow the fiery bastions doth assail
Kneeling, Hercules with glowing club o'er dragon doth flail
Pleiades's gaudy sisters in blue-sequined dresses luminosity scale
Virgo's virgins spawn into egg; sterility to efface
Pisces's forked fish tails lock; damming each, corroded face
Aquarius's stout water pail brims with charms to engrace
Ursa Major's silver ladle dips deep into briny well
Ursa Minor's frail oyster spoon dips into pale ale
The Southern Cross's interceding lines point to holy grail
Society getting worse cracking due to stupidity
Impropriety online so terse lacking any civility
Notoriety as attacking the diverse with hostility
Perverse aloof piety sacking truths no humility
Climate crisis averse backing fossil fuel futility
Oligarchs ransacking coerce with total impunity
Fracking to fill their purse another commodity
Snacking on the universe… despite its fragility
Hijacking but won’t reimburse any community
Whacking any protest…disperse in perpetuity
As hacking bots traverse at every opportunity
Migrants a curse sent packing as no immunity
No backtracking won’t reverse just absurdity
Won’t converse smacking those in impecunity
Kayaking above while immerse us in toxicity
Stacking Mother Nature on a hearse duplicity
BUT
Democracy averse just gerontocracy senility
Sacking due to perverse hilarity over polarity
Chapter & verse stop the slop no complicity
Won’t let curse of divinity go on for infinity
Clarity only charity ends gravity of depravity
Be a friend and nurse so can end the sterility
Go on rehearse and then will find tranquility
Don’t be adverse beyond lies some serenity
Intersperse with small wins…such simplicity
Happiness love & kindness is the holy trinity
Don’t hate frivolity has ability to create jollity
Does enhance...Americans say happenstance
Generosity and lovely luminosity of curiosity
A delightful dance of chance I call Serendipity
Mother Earth
is due for her hysterectomy.
Soon she will lap dance
in a crystal-clear sterility
far from her blood-soaked fields.
She is done with nurturing,
done with death and destruction.
She gave her all,
but that was then,
now the soil is blistering
for want of her winnowing,
her threshing.
Her attention
is upon herself alone.
There is a place
a lit-up stardust dive
where all fertility deities
eventually arrive -
there they
gyrate and twerk
for those
who,
quite by chance,
have dug their way out
of their own graves,
yet even they must pass away,
as she strips down
to her last scant garments
then yowls with glee
knowing
she is free.
I wandered looking for an Abel and a Cain
Finally the journey ended in me.
As honey in a bee’s comb and venom in its sting,
From man’s heart, spring nectar and poison
While being an incarnation of gentleness,
A sleeping dragon lies within.
Sometimes a thousand stars litter my sky
More often life darkens into a starless night
Even when a ray of goodness lights
There is an inner darkness that bites
The hands that are extended to embrace in love
Turn into tentacles that bind to choke
A savior and an assassin cohabit in me
The sweetness shown is in stark contradiction,
To the daggers that are hidden within
Even when I ardently preach deliverance
I turn my face from the convulsions of grief
And laugh at another’s punching pain
Sometimes I become an oasis
In the panting sterility of the desert
Sometimes a snare to trap the guileless
And pull them headlong into the abyss of death
From a fairy God mother, the transition
To an evil Witch is rather unpremeditated
How fast love thistles into hatred
And admiration stoops into jealousy
In this strange world and in each one’s life,
Such irreconcilable paradoxes abound
We have an erratic mindscape
That changes shape every now and then
When we speak of good and bad
Aren’t we showing traits of both?
Thus we are walking contradictions
Of a Yin and Yang of no judicious proportion!
Feb. 16.2022
~ Placed FIRST~
This or That. Vol.10. Poetry Contest
Sponsor –Edward Ibeh
When I lay anguished with all my muscles aching
And my mind plunging into the eddies of grief,
Poetry came to me as an unexpected guest, as a whiff of breeze.
It was like spotting an oasis in the sterility of a blistering desert.
What scope poetry provided me, soon I happily discerned.
It decorated my emotions with personalized symbols.
Images varied came dancing to my great surprise.
Music arrived soothing to embellish, energize and overwhelm.
Then my chest heavy with melancholic thoughts
Opened to layers and layers of positive thoughts,
Transcending the bounds of hard-hitting realities.
My eyes opened to the charm of nature conjuring up celestial images,
And I started versifying every thought n’ scene in rhythmic notes.
.
Never more the surging tears flowed out from my eyes.
My rampaging despair got vaporized, making a hasty retreat,
Like an enemy vanquished and its bugle falling silent.
Poetry, turn not your face on me, fill me with rhyme!
Had it not been for you and your mesmerizing charms,
I could never have broken free of the fetters,
That chained my captive, melancholy-stricken heart.
Beneath the diaphanous vault where shadow and humanity dissolve,
The fabric of nature unravels into an inscrutable residue of secrets,
Far from the world’s gaze, in the salt of the wilderness, a different essence is born,
Even bare sterility embraces the enigma that deceives and soothes us.
From the illusion of light-years, a whiff of earth mixed with saffron,
Nature caught in the dance of an eternal flame, inscribes upon the planes of existence,
Odes to the wind, where meadows bow to reveal a hidden-lost utopia,
The delicate sign of the sky bears ethereal symbols, home of the precious wild clover.
Deep down, at the root, where the echo of initiation throbs and writhes,
The whispers of a partial eclipse weave a complicit veil over myrrh footprints,
Nestled in the maple leaf, the wave of blood becomes intimately red,
Rustle of life in our spread, a solitary armchair beneath blue draperies.
Thus, I begin to merge with the threshold of mystery of beginning and end,
To immerse myself in the enigma of the opulent soul, the scent of ash and quake,
Outrunning the saintly stride, seeking the heart as a celestial sanctuary,
Stepping into the labyrinth called love, a portal to the heart named eternal.