Long Taboo Poems

Long Taboo Poems. Below are the most popular long Taboo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Taboo poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Clouds

Clouds spiral down and curl around to touch me
—not those western drizzle shrouds
baring a soul of misery mizzle
...though I adore a good wallow in sorrow  —no 
these clouds come from yonder bluebird wilds
white cirrus  wispy and whispery  dance around me
I steal one to wear across my shoulders 
like a platinum’s blonde’s faux stole

they come to me like papier-mâché angels —no no
that’s too cliché… and passé   for I’m far beyond
the Godly touch of angels… hmm.. they come to me
like a lover —no too easy …like a heartbreak-er lover!
yah I’ll go with that and get a taboo tattoo of his name

anyway  the clouds  they find me where I stand
dissatisfied with being satisfied
the result of my cool cat face seduction
I wear a crimson bee balm boutonniere 
display it on my plunging V lapel   but
it attracts wasps instead of honey bees; I find
danger brings a secret pleasure to my displeasure

my leopard print pants (red sky colored)
stirs sir knight with his bridled gaze and walking stick
he watches my next move on the chessboard
tries to guess my breezy strategy
my hands behind my head  legs crossed
maybe it’s a white crested ocean I'm floating on
  —or wrestling with—  either way
I’m here to play and paint a displeased scene

watercolors? they’re just transparent hues
applied to my white background
depending on the mood of my mood ring —but
when acrylics bleed it’s harder to see the scene
colors escape their space creating a slurry
of what is where  where is when  when is why
and why don’t know why ..what?! but I know how
blurry lines take on a life of their own
and shapes a new fate from ‘no gesso’ mistakes

I could switch my style to snarly tiger stripes today
and gladly take that horse-headed knight down
that wooden old guard has new orders
he’s suspicious of me  scrutinizes me
but only half as much as I’m used to
his right hand on his monocle 
—the other eye blind

just beyond the reach of his walking stick
I free my torso of its purple grapevine corset
uncinching my fake waisted form   —I muse
if my time as a wastrel was wasted or invested
   oh …the monocle is telescoping me again
I shimmy lose my butterfly wings
slap him as I flap them  and fly away

it’s hard to know if I’m still beautiful
or if I’m just broken
—either way  I embrace the rainy side of the rainbow
happily discontent


Him Or Me Pt 1 (Adult Content)

Him or me?  Sweetie who's it gonna be?   You have me waiting, anticipating.  This 
question should not have you hesitating.  I've sat back and listened to you explain.  Your 
need for me but love for "what-his-name?"  It should not be so hard for you to decide.  For 
he keeps you on an emotional roller coaster ride.  Take a look back when I was before him.  
It's not difficult to comprehend.  I was your honey. lover, friend.  Just follow your heart and 
follow what your body tells you.  It's a start when you acknowledge I've never failed you.  
Damn-it woman you hold the power.  Who do you think about in lonely hours?  Who do you 
imagine touching you in the shower?  You know I'm the one who goes deep.  Sweetie you 
know my love is unique.  You know I'll do what he won't in the bedroom.  You know when it 
comes to you nothing is sexually taboo.
       I'm the one who takes you out on the town.  You know I like to go down.  You know I'm 
far from selfish in bed.  Does he wake you up to morning head?  Come on don't lie.  Does he 
gobble, make you hobble after eating your apple pie?  Does he keep your kitty on a sexual 
high?  Does he flip, dip bite into your battleship?  He probably see's it as invalid.  So I know 
he don't toss your salad.  Baby you know what I'm about.  Does he make you cry out in 
ecstacy?  When you're with him do you think of me?
       Tell me, does he show you public affection?  Was he there with you watching "Obama" 
win the election?  Is he there for you, share with you special moments in life?  Will he 
sacrifice his career?  Does he whisper sweet words in your ear?  Does he kiss the tip of your 
nose?  Surprise you with a rose?  Does he massage your feet?  Take you out to eat?  Does 
he make your heart smile?  And to comfort you, would he walk a thousand miles?  Does he 
do these things and then some?  No!  He's silly and dumb!  Always on the run, always on the 
go and no!  "Attention" he doesn't show!  He don't know that I'm the one who understands.  I 
support your goals and plans.  I know you like no other.  You don't need advice from your 
mother.  She even knows I'll catch you if you fall.  You know she see's me as her son-n-law. 


Continued on pt 2


       Note: Spoken word piece.  Sometimes ladies you let that best male friend get away and 
end up with th wrong man!

Want To Do

Written on: 7th September 2012.
Written by: Sashi.Prabhu (Zeauoxian)

Tons more I wish to do,
Much more I want to do,
Before I am laid on the pyre facing the sky deep blue,
Much more I wish to do……….

I want to scale scary heights,
I want to bungee jump without any fright.

I want to travel rough terrains on bikes,
I want to make it through forests and go on long hikes.

I want to wander singing songs,
I want to sing about how I mended my wrongs.

I want to be creative again ,
I want to write about my joys thrills and pain.

I want to pour my heart and passion in my works,
I want to write verses & haikus without reactions knee jerks.

I want to take many a calculated risks,
I want to learn from the entire process without shortcuts or fancy tricks.

I want to contribute for a good cause,
I want to give without siphoning material or emotional dross.

I want to untangle messed up issues,
I want to wipe off tears with empathy laced tissues.

I want to work on taboo subjects,
I want to solve regression of y on x.

I want to listen to my music loud,
I want to pen my work in a place far from the madding crowd.

I want to sow seeds and many a plant,
I want to bask in sun rays that into my room slant.

I want to drench in the rains,
I want to make paper boats and sail them in the drains.

I want to pick up from the ground and smell fresh wet earth,
And then joyously have my speech filled with mirth.

I want to boldly write about myself only for me,
I want the world to know me & my mind as they  will always see.

I want to meet often the persons, who mean a lot to me,
I want to be able to emote my passions and feelings of love and glee.

I want to be happy about just any small thing,
And all this I want to do before the last breath to my nostrils I bring.

Facing the blue skies on my funeral pyre,
I want to be on the best craft my soul can hire….

All this I want to do very soon,
Before sets into me dreaded gloom.

But the life I live is taking its toll,
I am yet to get out of this oblivious hole.


Time is just right to set aside,
And take a ride

Fulfill my wants and dreams that I nurtured in me to grow,
And I had put away sheathed in a cocoon of time many years ago.

Now I don’t want a moment long,
And I will do what I want and sing my own song,

And do what in me I let grow,
Many, many years ago.
Form: Couplet

So Many Seduced by Rhythmic Pendulum of Trauma and Absurd Normalcy

Intelligent musical talent begins with this, to relearn the timing within our soul,
But other tactical psychological methods are busy swaying to and fro,
To an obvious yet nefarious covert Rhythmic tyranny of Mind Control,
Damaging trauma appears, disappears and reappears so often - irregardless whether anyone of us - really and actually know,
Although - know; you ought to, and know you must, if we're to avoid their evil demonic end goal, by economic slavery boom and bust, 

Why have the masses flocked to what is essentially an obvious Lie..
The hitherto well understood well known treachery of bribery and trickery..to the ill-informed common eye?

Real answers lie within the Agendas of those, 
With high unseen well hidden authority of tyranny.. now beginning to be exposed,

The blame so far as we can see for this all pervasive idiocy, 
Fits squarely into Ancient Babylonian Occult vile Crypto Supremacy,

An unmentionable taboo for Society, though cleverly socially arranged, 
Covertly hostile toward Humanity and our creative force..
By a certain inferiority complexed minority so deranged..
Ah yes - but of course!
A true Dictatorship and Tyranny
can and always will insist..
Upon those that have become uber-Liberal all accepting pacifists.. 

Those yet behind an otherwise obvious - facade of devious fallacy, don't want you to learn the reasons for the lie, 
The mondane so often belies what is hidden within our words; within a sound, 
The truth disguised as anything unprofound, 

Explanation enough as to the premise of why..

The countless masses are now clearly and sadly being systematically psychologically, reduced to a pitiful state of abhorrent dependency,
We would certainly have to mention and be sure to say, 
Please wake up a friend a colleague or a family member now, or at least today,

It is therefore clear that; 
an in-depth searching root cause analysis, apparently can be, 
Brought about and shared through some insightful poetry..

The written and the spoken word,
Do justice to those that cannot nor would never ever be heard, 
So we might then listen in careful piety,

Or do not then be surprised to now find, that there are..

So Many Seduced by Rhythmic Pendulum of Trauma & Absurd Normalcy..


Kurt Hubbard-Beale
28th February 2023
Form: Ballad

Telling White Lies

Telling "White Lies"

My mother got born November
thirteenth, nineteen hundred thirty five
within poverty stricken household
of Canarsie, Brooklyn, the youngest
(most mollycoddled) of four siblings,
experienced grinding poverty, no
matter maternal grandfather (Moishe
Kuritsky), a tailor he lacked drive
(and felt neutral about stitching
together gainful employment)
to support his family two parents +

remainder offspring, he helped sire
lacked positive role models, none the
less gumption taught her to strive
at tender age livid with rage to escape
caricature living poor, thus sought
employment when/wherever sheik hood
if necessary fibbed to survive
plus rash of healthy nurturing, and
absolute zero constraints, perhaps five
or thereabout years old attested
much later, suspected her papa did jive

with unspeakable improper behavior
(nobody dare discuss taboo issues),
yet intuition awoke within immoral
conclusion Harriet Kuritsky did arrive,
and perhaps resorted to stretching
the truth (fibbing a "white lie") the only
recourse available plied sweet innocence
knowing little or nothing about birds
feathering their nest, nor little about
buzzfeeding activity in beehive
naivete flirtatious coyness advantage worked,

I bet young thang did connive
and probably never did contemplate,
deliberate, generate and wrongdoing,
where mother of necessity spurred
angelic demureness strategy to contrive
securing bare necessities, hence fast
forward, when unsolicited advice given
to this sole son, or either sibling, (an older 
& younger sister) tactics upbringing did deprive
ma mum of positive role models, hence
only blueprint to acquire essential needs

serendipitous series of unfortunate events
before Lemony Snicket did derive
school of hard knocks, (I do believe
formerly called Abraham Lincoln High)
rather than impugn, judge, revile, et cetera
kernels/nuggets of wisdom memory did revive
within my mind for rhyme, nor reason
blunt honesty, not always best policy
despite ten commandments
to husbands with many a wive.

Life lesson learned meant blurred line
between mendacity and truth
courtesy upbringing mommy dearest
if repeatedly drummed into me noggin
brutal honesty will bring nothing but bupkis,
or if you prefer the Yiddish spelling bobkes.
Form: Rhyme


Bucket List of Wants

Tons more I wish to do,
Much more I want to do,
Before I am laid on the pyre facing the sky deep blue,
Much more I wish to do……….

I want to scale scary heights,
I want to bungee jump without any fright.

I want to travel rough terrains on bikes,
I want to make it through forests and go on long hikes.

I want to wander singing songs,
I want to sing about how I mended my wrongs.

I want to be creative again ,
I want to write about my joys thrills and pain.

I want to pour my heart and passion in my works,
I want to write verses & haikus without reactions knee jerks.

I want to take many a calculated risks,
I want to learn from the entire process without shortcuts or fancy tricks.

I want to contribute for a good cause,
I want to give without siphoning material or emotional dross.

I want to untangle messed up issues,
I want to wipe off tears with empathy laced tissues.

I want to work on taboo subjects,
I want to solve regression of y on x.

I want to listen to my music loud,
I want to pen my work in a place far from the madding crowd.

I want to sow seeds and many a plant,
I want to bask in sun rays that into my room slant.

I want to drench in the rains,
I want to make paper boats and sail them in the drains.

I want to pick up from the ground and smell fresh wet earth,
And then joyously have my speech filled with mirth.

I want to boldly write about myself only for me,
I want the world to know me & my mind as they  will always see.

I want to meet often the persons, who mean a lot to me,
I want to be able to emote my passions and feelings of love and glee.

I want to be happy about just any small thing,
And all this I want to do before the last breath to my nostrils I bring.

Facing the blue skies on my funeral pyre,
I want to be on the best craft my soul can hire….

All this I want to do very soon,
Before sets into me dreaded gloom.

But the life I live is taking its toll,
I am yet to get out of this oblivious hole.


Time is just right to set aside,
And take a ride

Fulfill my wants and dreams that I nurtured in me to grow,
And I had put away sheathed in a cocoon of time many years ago.

Now I don’t want a moment long,
And I will do what I want and sing my own song,

And do what in me I let grow,
Many, many years ago.

by: Sashi.Prabhu
Form: Couplet

Mgc

Straight rows of soft chairs, larval eyes stare blank
Absorbed by glowing colors on the wall
Their jaws slack, fetid whiff, unwashed and dank
Arrested minds the blue screen does enthrall

Their horticulture, growing docile strains
Indulge the twisted whims our lords conceive
The whores to culture, placid in their chains
Reclining prostrate, ready to believe

Our nation’s spirit sinking to expire
Omniscient demigods behind the screen
Transmuting our light to synthetic ire
Red, white, and blue bows to red, blue and green

Unconscious fulcrum, force you can’t deny
Black keys in gray hands of the puppet priest 
Subliminal, no chance to wonder why
Clandestine reins pulled taut, they lead the beast

Imbue the symbol with gilt qualities
Admire how they conspire, our life rewired
Such dazzling tricks to blind the polity
In breaded, cheap amusements, we are mired

Our brave new virtual reality
With hidden craft, untruth is overlayed
Eclipsed sun darkens to totality
Beneath benighted noon we walk as day

Predicted, instinct’s base reaction known
To tidal waves of violence and sex
Minds titillated by distraction’s bone
From our Media-Government Complex

Our internecine hatreds stoked, inflamed
Creating and enhancing the divide
True culprits are protected, victims blamed
Incessant war, the great rift yawning wide

Unseemly freedoms have been made taboo
Renouncing power, most don’t even grieve
Relieved to give up guns and money too
Behind red tape and laws lurk skulking thieves

Resounding echoes, our once great New World
Through wavelengths, diodes, context redefined
Cold software guiding social plots unfurled
Far colder people fine-tune the hive mind

Inheritors of might presume the role
Unburdened by the ballast of remorse
Their dark ascent to power and control
Soul-searing wind as you climb to the source

Some zealots hold that this is Satan’s world
Each object of desire imbued with blight
Much clearer when the plan becomes unfurled
So glaring it becomes they have the right

This morbid monolith, our freedom’s bane
Temptation steals your breath, you’d best beware 
Choose reason in a world that’s gone insane
Reclaim your only soul and say a prayer

© Thomas W. Quigley
7/17/16
Mostly Iambic Pentameter

Doubt not that I love you

DOUBT NOT THAT I LOVE YOU II.

Darling, I know that I can't be absolutely perfect; for as a mortal, I have depravities in me,
Which will always and constantly antagonize me in trying to be the best that I want to be.
But with all of my human shortcomings and flaws, my love for you is surer than the blue,
And even if you'd harbour some doubts; please darling, doubt not that I do really love you.

It might be somewhat difficult to make you assured; for assurance is not so easy to give;
For we mortals are not sure of anything else save the selfsame moment in which we live.
Yet, with all my inability to completely convince you, I know that my feelings are very true;
And never would I debar you from having doubts; but darling, doubt not that I do love you.

Day by day, with words that stem from the depth of my heart do I show you how I do feel;
For if love at all exists here below, I am totally sure that the one I have for you is very real.
To make you see how I cherish you, I'm bereft of ideas and I really don't know what to do,
Maybe that's why your heart stores some doubts; but please, doubt not that I do love you.

I will never stop to tell you in patience how that my heart longs for you to be my only one;
For if you were myself, you will definitely fall for you; for your type of beauty is rarely born.
I'd not get tired of telling you everyday till you are able to comprehend and see it through,
And though you have some doubts at this moment; please, doubt not that I truly love you.

You really are very beautiful, by the moon and stars above do I swear this and I do not lie,
I haven't met or seen anyone like you before; your beauty amuses me, it is new to my eye.
Princess, not for the gratification of all my lustful fiery desires do I your tender heart woo;
For I know you have such thoughts which breed doubts; please, doubt not that I love you.

I cherish the sight of you; every time I catch a glimpse of you, my joy is filled to the brim,
For everything about you appeals and speaks to me; you really are the angel in my dream.
I'd break all of my rigid walls just to gain your love and I am in for this even if it is a taboo;
Yet, while you think about it having some doubts; please darling, doubt not that I love you.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Pinkie Rang the Bell

The hummingbird
Came to feast on my vermilions
Filled my heart with joy ‘til
Pinkie rang the bell.

About the time all is well
A solution is in sight
The future looks bright,
Pinkie rings the bell.

Pinkie’s bell is not so loud
Sometimes it is silent — remember
At your church and school,
Work and neighborhood,

Family gathering and vacation,
Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas and reunion
When things looked too good,
Pinkie rang the bell.



Guns are everywhere
Killing more than cars
When Congress wants to act,
Pinkie rings the bell.

With a handicap of forty
Pinkie can defeat you
No matter how far under par 
He plays the game.	

We demanded universal healthcare
More times than I can recall —
Each time we came close,
Pinkie rang the bell.
 
Even though the score
Is three to three
And a winner must be had,
Pinkie rings the bell.

Pinkie’s bell
Rings so bolshily  
It can say no to anything —
Completely stop the day.
Four hundred years of racist laws
Were about to be undone and
Segregation made taboo until 
Pinkie rang the bell.

You can count on Pinkie at your golden anniversary
Centennial birthday, high school graduation and bar mitzvah
To be waiting in the wings for you to stumble
Before he rings the bell.

Phyllis Schlafly’s ring choked the ERA,
Andrew Jackson’s paved the Trail of Tears,
Jim Crow’s postponed equality,
Ronald Reagan’s blocked almost everything.

Countless treaties promised 
Natives they could keep
What was already theirs, then
Pinkie rang the bell.
 
You may want infrastructure, 
Women priests, and world peace;
Before progress can be had,
Pinkie rings the bell.

Never mind the struggle
Pinkie will be there —
Universal suffrage, gun control or parity;
Some say Mitch McConnell

Is the champion Pinkie of our time.
Can you count the times
His alarm was so loud we were blinded when
Pinkie rang the bell?

You and I may hope
For an improved tomorrow;
Have faith that man will do better, no matter —
Pinkie rings the bell.

Pinkie has his way so often
He believes he’s always right;
His followers know it too —
They provide the wall —

The naysayers have advantage
The sun is in our eyes
The courts are made of mud
The referee’s been bribed.

Ruined My Life

Writing effortlessly and I faint
first thought was dreamscape 
I can recall every single detail
To the T. 

Twelve fenestra foggy glass, 
a paining of a woman, Egyptian,
classy loft style apartment,
with a fountain in the center, 
tree growing up and through the ceiling,
at its base a pool for a fountain raining above,
this is the only light source, an azure blue,
light pulsing on the fountain edges, 
I don't scare easy, 
surrounded by coyotes I ran at them,
Only two things have made me feel this way,
I was in a shark cage and a great white appeared,
baleful aura, best description,
And here when a doppelgänger pops out playfully
Giggling, sinister, fancy scarlet dress, lithe to body
Like if I chose a life and became a model,
For the dream lovers, here is the interesting part…
At the time I am writing hardcore macabre,
taboo dark stuff, it had obsidian eyes,
kicker — it had silver eye-shine, 
That’s how I knew the fountain was the light source
Was it moved the shine in her eyeballs
My first thought was that’s too detailed….
For a dream… Followed by.. that’s too coherent 
A thought for a dream…. I was in the shark cage 
And I turned to run… Everything mirrors
Perfectly 
I mean perfectly 
What was left is now right with excruciating detail
Except now she has a knife, the fountain is red
And pulsing one second intervals, she blows a kiss
I wake up shaking like a leaf, and she is there 
In my home just staring at me…
Doesn’t move.. She did this for 24+hrs…
I remain calm-ish and I stare back, I stayed in my seat
Dozed off and she was gone, but her eyes weren’t 
They were in every sliver of cabinets slowly opening 
Under every door
And a new term I learn… Sweet nothing
Just murmurs and whispers of… Horrible things
And last day she tried to kill me…
I am very… aggressive… I ripped her throat 
With my teeth… she had a look of surprise 
It was weird I then woke up again puking tar
And in the mirror was her laughing
I suffered thoughts of cannibalism and necromantic
Four weeks after…
I have been writing about rainbows and flowers
Ever since that day — and I always will
If you ask me what is was…
I will tell you without hesitation and I don’t know why
It was older and darker than demon

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