Long Tainting Poems
Long Tainting Poems. Below are the most popular long Tainting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tainting poems by poem length and keyword.
Some are crafty and witty
Tainting the experience of a city
Quenching whatever godliness will kindle
Befriending only to use and swindle
Now the old wish for the olden day
And the young crave for that which the old say
But aren't we victims of one another
Each one a brother to a brother whom we don't bother
All the good that we today see as myth
Is fanned by our strangling of each other's faith
Yet the name of the Lord is still on our lips
Tell my then why the tapestry fades and rips
Like trees lush and green but without fruit
The gardening we have received we still don't foot
Taking without giving
Virtue dying out of our living
For we justify of its death with the times
And we are now silent in the face of crimes
Away from the woe of calling light darkness
Consequence will reveal your deeds in starkness
Let God lead ye, oh ye his sons and daughters
Safely wading through the darts and the plotters
We of Christ's fold shall be known by our love
And all the righteous bearings we shall have
K. Muitherero
Believing that I’m called to serve God in the ministry
I hate hypocrisy that afflicts it along with fatal selfishness
Compromising divine work for personal fame, honour and glory
Bringing forth anguish and misery as results of worthlessness.
Ministry that is genuine is leading people to the Saviour
Reaching out to others with faith’s fervor and mercy’s compassion
For transformation toward godly behaviour
Thus, tainting it with dishonesty and self-gain speaks of shallow devotion.
I confess my sins that hinder ministry-fulfillment
Seeking the Lord to subdue the root cause which is arrogance
As I surrender to Him for earnest ministry engagement
Blessed by His grace I can share with love’s extravagance.
May 11, 2019
The battle of the heart ablaze with fire,
The battle for the soul still yet to come,
Who could foresee the things that would transpire?
Who could foretell which side there would have won?
When all was still, though not yet still enough,
A victor, only one, rose from the earth,
And rise and rise again, up from the dust,
Battle wrought, from dust that gave new birth.
When all was still, three hearts had broken and
Two mended, one left beating on the floor,
Its bloody writhing tainting the white sand,
The battle lost for it, and closed the door.
Though two had been made whole and were renewed,
The third was struck and broken down to ash.
The gods had been let loose, and had imbued
All three with magic powers that would clash.
The raging bonfire two had lit as one
Had then burned out with distance and with time.
Still raging, though, the third’s fire just begun
Would captivate the other with a rhyme.
He wrote the swan song’s words and spoke them out,
The incantation writ, the prophecy.
When all was still, he’d won a heart with clout
And left another in a Jealous Sea.
If every breath an incantation, then,
And every sentence writ, a magic spell,
The rhyme began inside that heart again
The waving, salty sea, that hopeful swell.
Hope for the hopeless what he spoke, his creed,
Yet from another heart he took away
The only hope that it could ever need,
Though that hope would come back another day.
What had begun as playful friendliness
Had changed to something more, and something deep
And finally to true love might progress,
If one the other’s heart would always keep.
Forged from the battle’s heat, from blood and fire,
And hammered with the anvil and the steel,
That heart would have naught left but to retire
And bitterness for those two always feel.
Johannes was a gentleman; she had heard this.
Greta knew him not, but when he entered the room
she sensed it was the lord of the manor.
He was casual; spoke in a low voice.
Seemed to sense that a regular voice might frighten her.
She had never been this close to aristocracy.
Her father had warned her to stay away from the rich.
He had called them rapscallions, and knaves.
His experiences tainting them all, lumping them together.
Greta was more open minded than her father;
she gave him a bit of a chance. The light flickered
in his eyes; his sense of humor was obvious.
They became secret friends, more than
enough to teach her that her intuition was good.
Sometimes the person inside tries to break free,
Tainting the world and all that I see.
Running from myself , I find that I can not hide.
Is anybody out there in which I can confide.
Traveling through my time here
I wonder when my time shall draw near.
And sometimes I fear.
Who am I
Am I flying too high.
Each day that I survive
Means another day alive
Here in the land of the free
All the riches I'll never see
Take it from me.
The days keep passing me by
Brings the age to my eye.
The scars
Like the stars
A road map to the unknown.
A lifetime you've grown
Who am I to ask
Is life another task.
The trail is but one way.
Trying to make it a little further each day.
Now my hair is gray.
Mortality grows real.
Changes the way you feel
Makes you stop and think
From the pool of knowledge you seek to drink.
What lies ahead
I feel no dread
I sit here and ponder instead
Passing beyond the sorrow.
I step into tomorrow.
Life begins anew
The inner strength on which I drew
Refueling my soul
My only goal.
Love, life, gone with the passing of time.
Looking for that one rhyme
That speaks out
The world will want to shout
Words of the wise
Come in disguise
Hard to see
But may set you free
And so the soup’s, coming to a boil
Very difficult, not to get embroiled
Rumour has it, Hitler’s on the rise
Goose stepping, in poetic disguise
Jackboots kick open, doors of rhyme
Acrostics embed, swastikas sublime
Vaxxers accused, of a new blitzkrieg
Covid deniers, offer vapid intrigue
Enigma encoded, in sonnets of fear
Lady Haw Haw, sobs crocodile tears
All together poets, salute Sieg Heil!
Conspiracy theories, jabs are on trial
Contagious haikus, causing upset
Biden instigating, everyone’s death
God’s gone paranoid, so we’re told
Playing both sides, to steal our souls
Armband stars, equal covid passes
Monoku writers, killing the masses
Limericks are evil, piled full of poop
No place for crap jokes, tainting soup
Poets reincarnated, in nom de plume
Childish dark magic, one has assumed
So do ends, always justify the means
In war and pandemic, mania’s routine
By
David Kavanagh
Hello everyone! There is going to be a 2nd part to Entertainment real soon. Stay tuned! Thanks:)
Don’t be discouraged
Don’t be doubtful
Don’t be disheartened
Be happy, not mad
Be humble, not proud
Be quiet, not loud
Be merciful, not condemning
Be cheerful, not anxious
Be glad, not envious
Hello
Hello
I feel insecure
I see your halo
A cloud of a windy blow
I’m feeling brilliant
Can’t say I’m excellent
Perhaps, insignificant
I can’t even say a simple hello to my friends behind me
I’m just an outlandish, bittersweet introvert all over again
Spreading my mental wings of set-me-free
Be my grace…
Fading like your face…
Caught without a trace
Hello
How have you been?
I’ve seen the unseen
Oh wait…
I hesitate…
I can’t breathe…
I’m at ease…
My mind is a castle on a train
So high and so low…can’t refrain
From driving y’all insane…
All to numb the lucky pain
Inside me…
Inside you…
However, fear is far behind me
Hope and cheer is what I want and need
I need to nourish it like my itty-bitty seed
I feel like fainting a five hundred million miles from you
I feel like tainting your fingers with my blood of residue
I am a quiet cello in your sleep
I am that crippled fiend…A creep…
Only to find light on the other side of the sun…
I’m somewhat like an extrovert
Extending my mind’s flimsy, flowery frame
Pulling out envy's weed…what’s your name?
I hurt like an expert, wearing your blue shirt
Basically, my nightmare became a reality
Frankly, my eyes shower and my gaze is but a coward
Mind control got me in its web of lies…hardly…
Lately, my numb cranium is releasing dangerous defeat…I’m flying and soaring like a blue bird…
I’m an empty page…
Okay, I am enraged by being in this cage
Of my skin…of your distress…
Of your sin…you’re just trying to impress
Strangely, I feel old age creep on me –
Awkward
I can trust in my illuminating instincts
It’s misfortunate that I’m so nervous
I see wondrous winks and chinks
Extremely battered…
Nothing else matters…
Brain-scattered…
I hear silence and its purrs
Yeah, my bro…my wild bro
He is the only friend I’ll be hanging out with
For the rest of my life though
I always mix up reality and fantasy and myth
Making every effort
To break cycles of the past
Determined more than ever
These moments can't last
He hated poor, poor as dirt
As he set out to hold gold
He got an education
Had a heart that would never fold
Clean, cleaner than bleached white
She detested filth and mess
She gathered and controlled
All that had possibility of tainting her dress
They came out of the camp
With minds shattered and torn
Not knowing how to be
They assembled where pain was worn
...like a cloak
Where, oh where
Will healing come from
When humanity breaks
And leaves it all undone
Where, oh where
Can peace find a home
When humanity insists
Better am I, being alone
Where, oh where
Can community thrive
When entities blister and pierce
All who remain alive
Where, oh where
Is heaven in this hell
Fire burns to melt
And water has no well
...like resource
THE COLOR OF HATE UNLIKE ALL
THEE OTHER BRILLANT COLORS
OF THE WORLD I MEAN YOU SEE
IT IT'S STUNNING CAPTIVATING
EVEN CAUSING STRANGERS TO
GATHER TOGETHER SHARING THE
VERY SAME FAMILIAR TRAIT OF HATE
FOR MANY IT WAS TAUGHT OTHERS
FIND IT MORE EXCEPTABLE THE
COLOR OF HATE SEEMS TO CRAVE
CERTAIN AROUSALS FEEDING OFF
THE UNEXPECTED CREATURE THE
COLOR OF HATE HAS ABOSOLUTELY
NO VALUE NEVERTHELESS IT'S WORN
MOSTLY BY THE WEATHLY DEMINSIONING
THE CAUSE AND EFFECT THAT COMES
FROM DEEP WITHIN THE SELF CONSCIOUS
MIND TO ALLOW THE COLOR OF HATE TO
EXIST IN A WORLD COVERED SO BLATENLY
WITH PAIN IT CONTROLS THE PURITY OF
OUR CHARACTER WHY I'M BROWN MY
HUSBANDS WHITE OUR CHILDREN ARE
A COLORFUL RAINBOW TRIBE WE GATHER
LAUGH ENJOYING THE FREEDOMS OF JUST
LIVING LOVING UNRECOGNIZED AS A
HOLY MATRIMONY IN THE EYES OF MANY
LAWS HAVE CHANGED BUT EVERY NO
AND THEN WE ARE REMINDED CERTAIN
CLASS WOULD LYNCH US BOTH STRAIGH
AWAY LOOKING BACK OVER A TIME COUPLES
LIKE US RETREATED ACROSS STATE LINES JUST
TO EMBRACE WITHOUT THE PRYING EYES
THE TORCHES THE HOUNDS INVADING US
SMEARING OUR BLENDED HERITAGE TAINTING
LOVE WITH HATE PRYING EYES CHANT FOR
PERHAPS WE ARE THE SPECKLED SHEEP ARE
SHEPHERD IS LOVETHE COLOR OF LOVE
CAPTIVATES YOUR SPIRIT WHILE WE DANCE
ACROSS THE UNIVERSE SPREADING JOY
THIS HISSING THE CACKLING HOW DO THEY
LIVE HOW DO THEY LOVE GO WAY GO BACK
WHERE YOU CAME FROM WHAT COLOR ARE
THEY BLACK WHITE BROWN ARE THEY RED
WE ARE THE DESCENDANTS OF JEAN PAUL
BAPTISE POINTE DUSABLE THIS IS OUR HOME
WE ARE HOME WE SAFE WE ARE CHICAGO
CAHOKIA ILLINOIS
WRITTEN BY YOLANDA NICHOSEN
7-28-2024
Beautiful, burnished, brilliant
Yet, my ink friendly inclinations produce a chemical discrepancy
And now, you come – Artist
Scratching, on my polished mental plate
Do not blacken me with your fumigating candle
Do not soak me in your acidic bath
Yet, here you are, sketching to leave your design
Ever so lightly, you etch, carefully, penetrating
Acid soaks into your carefully drawn lines
The depth of your influence is varied
Teasing a relief by removing your blackened wax
Only to soak me in your iniquitous ink
Here, I must bring it an end. I must stop you - Artist
I must cleanse my mental plate
Chasten long and purposed for that original surface
Until a polished steel-plated revelation
Yes, there, beautiful, burnished, brilliant…perfect, if not for
Your Latin radere
The etchings of your needle
The stain of your ink in my serrations
My effort seems wasted
The vestiges of your ink tainting all that I touch
Now, everything has your art
Like wetted paper onto my mental plate