Long Syringe Poems
Long Syringe Poems. Below are the most popular long Syringe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Syringe poems by poem length and keyword.
Another morning drowned in the tar of nightmares,
Where hope commits suicide at the tip of a deceitful syringe.
Demons scream insults, eyes stab like blades,
And smiles are but traps with finely sharpened swords.
Humanity crumbles in the ashes of its own betrayals,
Their outstretched hand hides a blade, their blessing, a curse.
We pray to sterile idols, we sacrifice the soul for a few clicks,
And today’s kings rule on plastic thrones.
They say evil is the exception but I see it reign,
In the streets, in the homes, in the hearts, in the palaces.
I saw kindness strangled beneath the laughter of a cynical world,
I saw innocence stoned, sacrificed for aesthetics.
I believe no more but in my rage, my pain, my memory:
They alone do not betray me, they alone speak truth.
I wander through a desert of shadows, with no guide, no faith, no brother,
A voluntary exile from this planet rotting with war.
If the universe holds a scale, it tips toward decay,
And I, surviving on principle, sink deeper into the crack.
A victim's lament, a silent ordeal, one final truth:
This world is but a circus of demons in search of humanity.
there is an open door in a rundown building
with peeling green paint on the walls
and worn wooden steps going up
into the darkness . . .
many garbage cans are overflowing
and I see lots of broken liquor bottles on the ground
also a child's broken pink bike has been discarded
and there seem to be hundreds of cigarette butts littering
I am shocked to see a needle syringe at my feet
then, an old lady in rags is passing
with a shopping cart full of junk
and greets me politely, "Hello, Miss, God Bless!"
______________________
March 06, 2023
Poetry/Imagism/the rundown building
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1529-678-06
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Upto You Again
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged03/08/2023
When youth is so vibrant and sets us aglow,
and no words are mentioned through sorrow:
we are the seekers of wild adventures,
pushing hard beyond all boundaries!
In the prime of everything that sparkles joy,
we aren't afraid to explore the great unknown;
falling to earth and savor the complicity of sin
as the Fallen Angels did: we will pay too dearly!
A motivation to declare life and safeguard it:
is to cleanse ourselves of all wrongdoing,
of all vanity to pursue vainglory as the great ones did;
are there precious thoughts that gathers no dust?
We can find them in acts done by saints living or dead,
or in a hymn to love: whenever it's rejected as a vain thing!
When we witness those tragedies that make us cringe:
is it a punishment from cruel Nature or angry God?
Young lives are mainly lost to Fentanyl and syringe!
Should we go on, making believe each mind is sound?
A gaggle of Mad Scientists
Shrunk me down in size
Placed me in a tiny syringe
Injected me into a woman's mind
They gave me special instructions
While there to look around
Report back to them immediately
All the mystery's to be found
I entered into this giant room
Dozens of doors surrounding the sides
I believe to be the main control center
I am a man in a woman's mind
(Wait a minute...that doesn't sound right)
I skip the rooms RESENTMENT, JEALOUSY,and GOSSIP
No need to open those
I've seen what they can do to a person
Best to keep them locked and forever closed
I come to the door labeled SEX
Being a man I try the knob first
Of course it's locked so I knocked and knocked
Go figure, there was no answer...
Before I realized what I was doing
I opened the door labeled NAGGING
All my ears hear is Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah
What in the world was I even thinking
I may be crazy but I ain't stupid
I also pass by the door I'M UGLY, I'M FAT
Why can't women see what the rest of us see
The inner beauty that they all seem to have
Right next door is the room that holds her feelings
I've never been so scared in my life
I do this in the name of science
And for the better of all mankind
As soon as the door swings open
I immediately break down and cry
I've got all of these mixed emotions
And I don't even really know why
I'm not sure if science was ready for this
As I climb out the ear canal blocked by a phone
Not much that a man can do in there
Best to leave well enough alone
I sit atop my woeful vantage point
Legs dangling in my bunkmate's face
Limp, like willow branches hanging
Eyes red, dark bags, temples banging
I gaze upon my sad communal room
A sea of men sequestered from reality
Sleep deprived, seeking an escape
Craving it in any form or shape
They told me ten, or eight if well-behaved
My penitence inside this concrete cage
They told me men like me can find a way
To cope until my liberation's day
Easy for them to say...
This tiny speck of what I hope is real
Smuggled in by only God knows who or how
Dissolved upon an orange plastic spoon
Destined to console my afternoon
I stare down at my hard-gotten syringe
A secondhand, diabetic's pill-call side hustle
Locked and loaded—its provenance disgusting to contemplate
Still, three hours outside this fence—all on a silver plate
My dangling legs have failed me once again
Both arms refuse to lead me to my bliss
All four, bound for hours at the veins
Yet not a trace of snaky purple remains
Years of this abuse have managed to collapse them all
I feel the nurse's frustration at that last blood draw
I've tried between my toes—it's no good too
I've poked and probed and cursed, believe me you
And so, as the men around me pass the endless hours
Six-hour workouts, countless rounds of dominoes, lukewarm showers
I'll chase my fleeting, numbing, pathetic reprieve
Just one fortuitous prick and I'll be there
Wasting away on this bunk, not a care
Ping Pong
A Game going on
Aus Govt \ DJOKOVIC
A Champion Vs Continent
Down Under A sport sinister
Short hearing Quick disbursal
He’s deported back to Serbia!
“Expelled for not taking drugs “
Undefeated undeterred Play ON
Mandatory needles Comply None
Healthy individual He scares CABAL
A sporting warrior now most Feared
Unprecedented rallying VAX NOVAK
A reminder a wake up call all SundrY
& Entertained TV - ADDICTS. !!!!!!!!!!
You can’t puncture A Rock by NEEDLE
A warrior is made in body and IN SPIRIT
Warriors trust thy blood sweat UNALTERED
Champs don’t ingest unproven ExperimentaL
Medicines can not be forced UPON A HEALTHY
Tyranny Under Public Health FALSE ARGUMENTS
Any sane and fit doesn’t need A LOADED SYRINGE
Leave that muck for the cattle and DRUG ADDICTS
Someone please tell me what’s FULLY VACCINATED
Real Men are NOT defeated by Altered DEFINITION
Tennis at High Tea now served With M-RNA FLUID
Who owns definition of health. for PUBLIC HEALTH
Who owns the sporting turfs. Grounds I Walk
Who defines our immunity TedRoss. Fauci
Our food and our intake. My blood Body
Unanswered Qns. Who Knows ? Gates
What makes Who ownsTest Labs
SPORTSMEN. Doctors?
What makes Politician
CHAMPIONS. - GOVTS.
What makes Who sells
A H U M A N. Snake oil
Who handles from butt
Organizations OF
CRINGE It is New Racket. Tennis grafted with A SYRINGE
Visual - Humans being made to comply with A Gun on Head
.
Give me all of one thing, and I’d gladly
give up all of the others.
Not for me the monotony of variety,
the trying, the sampling, the dabbling,
the skimming over surfaces.
Experience is nothing without intensity.
Give me a drowning then,
in a false god, a love, a cause (any), a bottle, a syringe.
Depths to sink to
en route to the peaks of rapture.
Give me freedom from having to make choices,
relief from the responsibility of autonomy,
the solace of surrendering
to that which demands
humility, piety, the soul’s nudity.
Obedience is clarity.
All of life reduced to the totality of me
and the finality of “it”.
Give me the comfort of wanting all of one thing
that wants all of me.
They came not with swords, but with silence and smiles,
White coats cloaked in corporate trials.
The syringe is a dagger, the pill a chain,
Each cure a contract of hidden pain.
They fed us fear in televised scripts,
Diagnosed souls with chemical whips.
And governments bowed with pockets wide,
While mothers wept as children died.
What price is health when greed prescribes?
When truth is gagged and justice bribes?
You crafted sickness, sold it as fate —
Your empire built on the breath you take.
But the dawn is rising, wild and clear,
With rebel hearts you failed to steer.
And though you wore gods’ masks to deceive,
Your time is done — it’s time to leave.
The people stir, the silence breaks,
And no amount of pills can stop what wakes.
We are the cure you never knew —
The truth that lives beyond your view.
Your perfect addiction
a drug perfected
you are a perfect god
a perfect addition!
You are the perfect one
The only one
The one made in the god's image
Imagery of desolation
From a perfect god
an addiction to a perfect drug!
Strike the match burn the thing
Boil the medicine
Draw the needle
Let it steam
Electric light fills the syringe
Because you're the perfect god
The addiction is keen
The liquid divinity!
Burn the veins slowly
Your perfect addiction
is in a drug perfected
you are a perfect god
a perfect addiction!
A nail nine inches long
Deep in the hearts of heaven…
Little sweet Lucy..four years..so small.
Her pink teddy bear.. and her Barbie doll.
Pushed strollers of fun. ..in traipse of malls.
Then a Topsy turvy evil.. stifles her a thrall.
She cries, " Where are my dolls? "
Crawls a cruel connive...arrives a sudden sinister.
Wrangles her hard destiny. .lurks a doomed disaster.
Poor Child, ...Leukemia is now her master.
She collapses into the arms.. of a malevolent monster.
She cries, " Where are my dolls? "
Wasn't Blood red. .that flowed in our veins?
Her's was a translucent black. ..
only strains..and those pains.
With her curly hair shaved. .the ugly doll sustains.
Syringe of thorns prick. .a rose.. to sick bed detains.
She cries, " Where are my dolls? "
Crummy " Chemo" of the 'Crab '. .
creeps on the little dummy.
There's yucky throw of food...
from her aching tummy.
Fear stricken Dad.. and a tear streaked Mummy. .
Her outstretched arms.. say..
"I know you both love me"
She cries, " Where are my dolls? "
The helpless girl.. gets weaker and thinner.
She longs for the table...sit together for dinner.
Forlorn she quirks.. in the MRI shiver.
Fighting with Cancer. .her spleen and liver.
She cries, " Where are my dolls? "
Painkillers help ..seeing windows and walls.
Doctors are elves... and Fairy nurses call.
To live without dying. .she daily sprawls. ..
She cries, " Where are my dolls? "
A desolate girl..she dreams. .playing with dolls.
PLACED THIRD IN SCREWED POETRY CONTEST by Rob Carnack
7th October 2018
A Poem of Reaction Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward.