Long Swindle Poems
Long Swindle Poems. Below are the most popular long Swindle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swindle poems by poem length and keyword.
Every girl, every woman
in his hometown
is wild and insane
about that funny guy
and crazy playboy
who deceives anybody
and walks through the halls of Hell
to make them his dearest possession...
until his desire does wane!
Funny guy and crazy playboy,
be careful not to make them cry:
they will hate you for your lie;
they aren't ready for a goodbye!
Who knows him well
cannot trust him a bit,
he hides in shadows,
and feels at fault;
he likes the one who's very sweet...
then, leaves her in tears
to swindle another heart:
to keep water running in his well!
What is alarming and disarms him
of his hold on them is the deluding smile
he gets from girls after a sudden break-up;
he knows how to empty out the cup
of passion and replace it with wine:
stay away or be a victim of charm!
Funny guy and crazy playboy, settle down
with one, tricks are suited for a clown;
promising them a false heaven is cruel,
who trusts you is an idiot and also a fool!
Dolores VOICED NOT A WOMAN OF SORROW DAUGHTER OF REJOICE-
Delores, daughter humanity the world of Sorrows.
Spanish named and is a form of Dolores.
Named of a time
Generations of pain, of sorrow
Father sought to gift you voice
Within Himself cause you to rejoice
Yet blessed, in the Fathers arms
Only humanity “dolor”
A righteous God, a loving Father
Choice chosen His daughter Delores
To pen His words, play His music
To gather the children lead
His mission, His Holy decision
There’s no thought in sorrow
Sings Hope’s in Him Abba Father
Herbs of His spirit
Swindle never in malice
Created to go tell it
From Germany unto Paris
Songs of the Father from His heart to her breath
His virginal words ever heard
Soul concurred cognate sung
Sings the woman girl of the Lord
There’s no sorrowful in her
For she is voiced in her Father God Hallelujah
There’s no thought in sorrow
Sings Hope’s in Him Abba Father
Dolores who as she, ever chattered
Learnt piano other instruments
Taught children and others God’s compliments
No pains, no sorrow God’s “dolorous”
God’s voice His delighted daughter
Daughter Delores
Minister of Music
Delores Matthews
8/5/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
“Birds of a feather, flock together”
They also do other things as a group
Like pooping on your brand new bonnet
At times they'll even poop in your soup
“Laughter is always the best medicine”
Not so if you have a runny nose
You'll get that green stuff all over the face
You might even get some on your toes
“Sleep tight, don't let the bugs bite”
Those nasty little critters are pests
Sleeping tight sure ain't gonna stop 'em
From chomping on your tender pink flesh
“You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear
What an absolutely disgusting concept
At least you could wait till the pig's deceased
'Cause I'm sure the damn thing would object
“Keep a stiff upper lip, my dear old chap”
It'll stop you from saying certain words
Like “honeyfuggle” or “snollygoster”
But you can still utter “dirty turds”
“One man's junk is another man's treasure”
Let's try to be realistic here
If you treasure a broken down piece of junk
Then you're welcome to it, my dear
“Good things come to those who wait”
Especially if you're waiting to sprinkle
If you cross your legs and sing “Hey Jude”
It'll seem like no time till you tinkle!
Honeyfuggle:
Deceive by flattery or sweet-talk, swindle or cheat
Snollygoster:
A shrewd, unprincipled person, especially a politician
There once was a man name Plenty
Living in the land of prosperity
Who worshiped his wealth with greed
He planted many seeds he believed
Only to grow his greed
Nothing matter to him
Only his need to succeed.
As time when by
His greed begin to grow stronger and stronger
Nothing matter to him at all
His wealth was all his concern
Greed, greed was in his sight
With all his might became his flight
Not just now and then
This was his greatest sin.
One day as time went on
He found himself all along
No one to call him friend
His wealth begin dwindle
So he begin to swindle
Deprive with scheme to deceive
The morning and night
Begin to shine bright with fright
And his death was in his sight
His wealth could not save him
Dim, dim was his sight
Because he could not see the light.
Murderous Sprees...
sinister Population Control, Sans Cosmic Creator?
Maybe,... I shudder to think
up the sleeve and ornate cufflink
of divine maker, a deliberate pitch
to foist *****sapien on brink
viz self destruction,
asper bedlam upon Earth that doth stink
a hellish conspiracy linkedin with tragedy
namely sinister predestined plan to shrink
terrestrial realm usurped by ink
king a pact of devilish destruction, demolition
denunciation, et cetera doth stoke
unslakable thirst of bloody drink
sucked out the flesh o' every body electric
as zombies and vampires quench
fifty plus shades of deep pink
drain liquid of life courtesy of chosen thugs
incognito golem aliens to kill and sink
civilization, until every person extinct
cold comfort (from this Yankee of mortal fate
lifelong resident of Keystone state),
one day extraterrestrials, (whom might
inhabit planet teeming with billions)
will excavate and then curate
a sorry lot of creatures, where bullets did eliminate
an arrogant, haughty, narcissistic...peoples
(a handful of exceptions to the contrary),
whose various tribes never adapted to integrate
sundry superficial differences among themselves
instead chose to allow, enable and provide
(Putin shill) collusion did willingly corroborate
with dopplegangers i.e. "FAKE" guardians
whose real not so impossible mission
to feign friendship, at heart..a pie rate
but sole outlook to eradicate
coercive, self immersive,
passive, et cetera species
and blithely earn blind trust, unwittingly mutate
into their likeness only to trump
pet gentlemen's agreement brittleness did break
as "FAKE" and devastate
democratic and constitutional compact
(utilizing bribery to swindle elite schools
so crazy rich parents could manipulate
levers of prestigious academia) to satiate
egos bragging about brilliant offspring
only to undermine the complex edifice
spoiling promising futures via golden gate
bridge of studious grads,
who exercised sweat o' their pate.
Ladies and Gentlemen, good folks gather round!
What I have here to show you is worth every pound.
It will soothe your dry bunions, seal your canoe,
Moisten your leather, and stretch your shampoo.
At my own huge expense, from India to thee,
The famous, spectacular, Big Jumbo’s Ghee!
I’ve used it as wheel lube from here to Mumbai.
It can quiet your babies at night when they cry.
It can mollify itching from poisonous plants.
It will ease the infirm of their ravings and rants.
No sir, not a swindle, this is no evil boast.
You can even put Ghee on your pancakes and toast!
Just so, Sambo travelled from hamlet to town,
Selling his Ghee; a half-cup for a pound.
Word spread like wildfire, for this was no hoax.
Just a golden-brown product that’s good for all folks.
He lived very simply, for Sambo was blessed.
And sent home his millions so Mumbo could rest!
5/30/17
For the contest “Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman”.
Sponsored by Debbie Guzzi
Butterfly elf man had a reputation for being a softie
Even though he looked stern, borderline determined even.
Not that it’s a bad thing, but he did not look whimsical or frolicking.
He looked serious, yet still, butterflies flocked to him.
Is he almost mean? Someone wondered aloud.
The butterflies tittered and twittered at this.
They knew he had to keep a rough expression because he was soft.
If people knew how soft, they would trick and swindle him.
Out of his treasures, his wealth, his whatnots and whatevers.
He did not dare wink or blink when other humans approached.
Keeping a stern look that fooled everyone except butterflies.
I was walking lonely in the magical wood,
Ah!then I was in my pensive mood
And watching the calm and cool surrounding,
The way of the wood seemed to be never ending.
Having seen a stranger, the birds started to flee,-
But I observed the scene in glee.
The squirrels were scampering on the ground,
Perhaps they were also afraid of hearing a stranger's sound.
In that wood, I wished for sometimes to dawdle ;
Because there was no wicked person to make swindle.
Suddenly, I watched the yonder hill
And tried to reach there with great zeal.
Gradually the view disappeared infront of my eyes;
Oh!it was a dream, which was broken after sunrise.
I was couched on bed; and watched the sun's beam
And also wished of having such a beautiful dream.
“There is not a crime, there is not a dodge, there is not a trick, there is not a swindle, there is not a vice which does not live by secrecy.” - Joseph Pulitzer
There is something that few recognize,
But is transparent to many.
Kept in the dark and loyal to no one,
Hoping that nobody can find it.
It is a silent killer,
Swooping down on the smallest
Sense of innocence.
Give it an inch,
It goes a mile.
It is not an atomic bomb,
Nor the Bubonic Plague.
It is all in the slight notion
Of injustice.
~*~
“Injustice anywhere is a threat
To justice everywhere.
- Martin Luther King Jr.
Today's headline: Mass vaccination in Africa begins in mid-2021
Wildfires do not pause for water hose, their seething pain not soothed by
a retard, life's full of
pose and repose when fairness reigns, otherwise
it's forfeited to vulgar lust.
The season's devil must vanquish
kindly, collectively, without murmuring prejudice, or it seizes upon
our wretched walls, taxing our profit,
the lofty humanity.
Gladly lay account to an unreality,
that Africa gets it first and the West last, can you imagine, they'll
likely nuke Africa to come out first, so the white ruling class of the world
can rejoice a heroic battle won with its golden-wiped, polished media bandits -- they are good for a swindle and a grief.
I want someone to rob the West of all their vaccines and dump them in Africa, so the slave continent can beat the old sorcery kitchen and escape its wilderness, let the scoundrels of the West hue and cry and speak of fairness and equality, scrabbling Africa's chestnut, their halls of power in moonlit gloom. The seven deadly sins of colonialism jump at us too late to stop the momentum, a brilliant revenge: pillage, slavery, settlement, indoctrination, coups and countercoups, and lies, history's full of them, and so is the ballad of the barefeet people's will to resist, every day is a good day to hang a colonialist by a Christmas tree.