Long Stye Poems
Long Stye Poems. Below are the most popular long Stye by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stye poems by poem length and keyword.
“Penned”
what happens
when it comes to this
another woman
takes your child
as her own
and red becomes
the bloody murder
penned in a pig stye,
left field left
the apple of her eye
green,
as iceberg
lettuce lies laced
salad days waisted
shredded through windows,
cold
thunderstorms
in the heart betrayed
rigour resigns against pain
the revenant
never left
resonance resides
on repeat morse
tear-streaked
reigning
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“I Hold You” / Clann
https://youtu.be/uNGmyQ8UbZ8
CLANN — KIN FABLES [Full Album]
https://youtu.be/q2r9smjuA2Q
CLANN — Seelie [Full Album]
https://youtu.be/jn6UB-jLblM
LYRICS/ "I Hold You", Clann
https://genius.com/Clann-i-hold-you-lyrics
"The Handmaid's Tale", Margaret Atwood (EBOOK)
(PDF download, link)
https://onuploads.com/yd52bar3w8cl/The-Handmaid%E2%80%99s-Tale.pdf.html
"The Handmaid's Tale", Margaret Atwood (Seasons 1-5)
https://movies2watch.is/watch-tv/watch-the-handmaids-tale-hd-39270.4912660
1. maternal alienation
2. surrogacy
3. Penned
https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/penned
wasted.
waisted.
https://digital.library.adelaide.edu.au/dspace/bitstream/2440/110550/2/02whole.pdf
https://cwasu.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/Working-with-Maternal-Alienation.Practitioner_Resource2.pdf
The Scottis Generale,
Nicholas McJockstrap
Waes undefaited fu a decaid
Due to the nikkirless trap
But on thys partikul day…
Thei stud on the highelands
Withe thir kyltes flyring highe
Ase thir baggpypis pleyed
“Thes wyll gyve yu a stye in yur ey”
Thir ennemy, takin abak
By the sicht thei sawe
Thene advaunced wyth a skreyme
Saing “shou eus soum moary”
The Scottis secreet weapun
Ded nott wark
It juist creatted a frynze
Drave the ennemy berrserk
The ennemy, sailors
Adaptared thei sexeul palatiat
As thei strypped ofe thei cloath
Ty revele frokes fram a swanne laik ballatt
Thei foloued thei Captain
Byg Baud Benn
Skreyming “Kille ale the women”
“Ande raap ale the meyn”
***************************
Translation
The Scottish General
Nicholas McJockstrap
Was undefeated for a decade
Due to his nickerless trap
But on this particular day…
They stood on the highlands
With their kilts flying high
As their bagpipes played
“This will give you a sty in your eye”
Their enemy, taken aback
By the sight they saw
Then advanced with a scream
Saying “Show us some more”
The Scottish secret weapon
Did not work
It just created a frenzy
Drove the enemy berserk
The enemy sailors
Learned to adapt their sexual palates
As they stripped off their clothes
To reveal frocks from a swan lake ballet
They followed their Captain
Big Bad Ben
Screaming “Kill all the women”
“And rape all the men.”
Phil Ostein Conferred With...
Oracle of delphi
for meager tithe
as per usual end
of year shibboleth,
and thus this hoop
fully ville explain,
the substance and pith
viz, where new
years eve hullabaloo,
without relevance comprising search
(boot not captcha) of myth
huckle Harris beast
purported relation of kin and kith,
rumored to inhabit
vicinity of Vermouth Avenue and fifth.
Hence, the follow
wing conjecture made
without axe sing myself why,
nonetheless alluding to some
anonymous kvetcher in the vye
maybe even reef fur
ring to yours
truly, or hypothetical stranger upbye
the outer limits of twilight zone,
unseen, whose extrasensory
divinity cain espy
telescopic ability insightful
able to see tie
knee imperceptible electronic bi
nary nano piercing
bits racing like a fly
ling infinitesimal Karamazov
brother, thru invisible
ethereal mist keen as a tigereye
that seemingly never blinks
despite vision hampered by
hordeolum, more commonly
known as stye
inducing inflammation i.e.
red tender bump
at the edge of well nigh
browbeaten eyelid, hence redeye,
perhaps dissimilar, yet
equally painful as pinkeye,
which conjunctivitis
preferable well nigh,
then slogging thru gobbledygook
thankfully, this harmless wordsmith
bids thee goodbye.
Love and pain
Love is pain
Its insane
Its a game
And a frame
Of my mind
And a sign
Of the time
That I feel
And its real
I cant peal
Off the seal
I cant heal
And I brake
And I wake
And I sleep
And I creep
With my feet
Its a feat
In the heat
Of the day
Its ok
But its not
And I rot
Like Im snot
On a watch
And I watch
And I think from my crotch
Its a nut that I bust
And its joy and its lust
I cant trust
But I must
And in time I'll combust
I'll explode
And erode
Then implode
Like a mime in a play
I cant hear what you say
As I lay
In my bed
In the depths of my head
And Im dead
Full of life
Full of strife
And my wife
Is the cyph
And the blunt
I'll be blunt
From the front
Of the front
To the back
Of the back
As I hack
From the smoke
And the coke
And I'm broke
As a joke
As I prod
And I poke
At my heart
With no start
And I'm falling apart
From the leasion
Its treason
With reason
The season has broke
With no hope
And no Dope
For the pin
And its sin
To live in
And to give in
To this hell
And I fell
From her spell
I cant tell
Who I am
Is it us, is it them
And it blends
Like a beam
In a dream
I got cut from the team
With no glimmer gleam
In my eye
LIke a stye
And I cry
Just one tear
Theres just one fear
That half grown chrysanthemums/
Stirring up like accuser's.
Life is compared with what two things ?
Which do you think is the richer more revealing comparison ?
Poets use many symbols/
Geese flying south can be a symbol,
Of that of approaching winter/
Heart's symbolize love,
In this brief expanse we call life,
One may want to cry out in a revolt ?
Other's simply take in a breathe of fresh air/
Ponder that many other's that don't even care ?
We all must become united in this great cause !
Not to use this concept loosely/
Yet to humbly ponder a thought,
What do you all think tells a more detailed story ?
The poem or the picture ?
Love can grow out of a billowing cry/
Perhaps a cut nor a mere stye in the eye ?
The seventies had embarked on this journey/
Not to mention that of Timothy Leary ?
This took us to a vast opened door !
To break on through to the other side/
Lest I emplore,
Still we have every bit of reason in which to grasp/
That lattice decor to that shine on the asp,
A sweet juice filled with fine honey nectar/
The future resources,
Allow the creative poet/
To begin to explore the valley of much more !
In gaining the proper word/
Fresh out of the Autumn air !
We need to leave it be,
in the rich black soil of the heavens
to forever change her color scheme
that big beautiful polished gem.
It's never tasted poverty or war
had a tank rake a scar into its face
no walls, roving gangs or abortion
no endless coil of hissing hate.
If it could speak it would say:
everything you've touched is destroyed
you've never been a peaceful race
you're covered in plastic, the scat of nuclear war...
Leave me to my sea of tranquility
my soul food is endless solitude.
God made me plain so no man would ravish me
but mankind sure tried but all in vain
please stay where you are
chained to your island of self pleasure and pain.
Stay on your own side of the horizon, I'll stay on mine
I'm a thoughtful loner, you're self centered socialite
clean up your earth, air, water ...(our) sky
stop turning heavenly perfection into your stye
respect me-I'm your brother
be a rose in the eyes of the creator's dream
not a snake impaled on the hiss of its greed.
Who is that ambling up the lane
With woolly wherewithal?
Few would bother to explain
An aimless animal.
But that's no common woolmonkey
Seeking out the truth
Deductions elementary:
It's Sherlock Sheep, the sleuth.
Sometimes you may not know he's there
Behind cunning disguise
A woolly mind is brought to bear
In cutting through the lies
The daft sheep form you see by day
Is just another ruse
Whilst eating through a flower display
He's searching after clues
A murder in the midden
Or a stabbing by the stye
A trespasser unbidden
Or crop circles in the rye
All puzzles for the intellect
But have no fear of doubt
The woolly noggin shall detect
The sheep will work it out
He may be here, he may be there
He may be with the flock
No tell tale trace betrays just where
The sheep who's named Sherlock
But when dire duty comes to call
You'll find him there in place
A comfort to be felt by all:
The sheep is on the case
The day they proclaimed addiction to be a disease
is the day drug abuse spread like a weed
The powers that be profit from prolonged disease
not so much from personal responsibility
they legalized dope to keep people pacified and numb
then lay tax on the working man-play us for chumps
They've turned this country from a cool place to be
into a red-hot mess, the needled and syringed lining the streets.
Nancy was right when she said just say no
now they have grass and gas stations
in deep blue tongued Colorado.
Some want to categorize obesity as a disease.
the cure for this one is simply quite easy
shut your pie hole and start moving your feet.
There's way too much profit in treating "disease"
That's why cures occur so very rarely.
Once a person is cured the money pig thins
it dies in the stye with the profit margin men.
come quickly
come quickly
you silly old dog
when they thought of the name,
they'd probably had thought of a creature like you-well then right on the dot
for a pig with a stick in his eye and a stye for a leg could have begged his way faster to freedom
and found more to eat in a day then you eat in a week-but you stay?
And i wonder and ponder by ponds full of water collecting my thoughts in a vase now discolored
what marvelous mischief might happen if beast were no sanction and all things with thoughts were judged solely on actions
morality then would weigh heavy with sanction and perhaps no man dines at the right of the lord
only a creature, deemed fit to absorb his observance
for now, it is begining to get very hot in this furnace
In the blink of an eye,
and the kink of a stye,
or the filibustering sigh
of a speaker,
the clock rolls its hands
to the sounds of big bands,
as the hand of time grows weaker
Levity/ brevity merge into one, storm’s
darkening clouds; sun’s briefly shone;
We really must hurry, just don’t have
the time, for kissing and cooing, or a sweet
sixty nine.
Pull back the sheets quickly,
clothes we’ll keep on;
the missionary position, can be quite fun.
But do keep it short, best not drag it out;
the quicker we cum, the sooner we’re out!
100 wds Written for Brevity contest 7/7/15