Long Tarred and feathered Poems
Long Tarred and feathered Poems. Below are the most popular long Tarred and feathered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tarred and feathered poems by poem length and keyword.
Too long I limped along a lonely road, born into this Sahara desert of a life,
parched and hungry, face weathered and gaunt.
A deaf, dumb, and blind man, drawn and quartered by her knife,
back tarred and feathered by a vulture's taunt.
I searched the wide world for your wonderful smile,
tired soul devoid of that whole, found wanting of the other half.
Try to find the right words, after each lost and lonely mile,
my sorrows washed away by that sweet, infectious laugh.
Like hopeless romantic's lot, who climbed out of a dark place,
beyond my wildest dreams, I finally found you.
Yet daft was I to hear not., your prayer for love's embrace..
as two hearts lifted in love were bound to.
When last moon fades, no more hopeless romantics left,
and strings of sanguine hearts untwine.
I will hold on to memory's tender touch yet,
and all the warm days when you were mine.
it was that dull ache that kept her going
a longing for freedom whatever that meant
confined to the straight-jacket of her mind
she tore at the shackles until her heart bled
clots obstructed safe burden-less passage
stenosed angry valves of calcified reason
fear-full emotion angst existential pain
tarred and feathered she hung on to hurt
became a victim of self-imposed torture
powerless tied to the tight roped noose
eyes gaping in terror torture blindsight
mouth twisted in agony and void scream
her ears throbbed from constant drumbeat
released vile pus that would not scar over
formed venomous channels into her brain
while relentless torture became the norm
all she did was to speak out against injustice
demanded to live and narrate her own story
pure untarnished by complicit thought control
but they crushed her pen and broke her fingers
mocked all resolve and continued to pulp her
into surrender and waited for her to give up
they fed her night mares and rationed the food
but insomniac and starving she became immune
to deprivation and depraved masters of evil
twisted wrists though fractured and disfigured
shaped her escape when handcuffs loosened
sharpened restraints into blades of defence
the ache did not vanish but altered her view
on humanity incarceration and empowerment
liberation comes at a price and increased value
she locks the door behind me and glimpses revenge
no pardon no thumb screws not even cut throats
for when oppressors have no one else to persecute
but themselves the ultimate punishment is served
23rd April 2021
Writing Prompt Ache
Constance La France
5/25/22
Living in the nether
Couldn't keep it together
For a long time wore a fetter
Remaining tethered
Occasionally got tarred and feathered
To your expectations I lost interest if I'll ever measure
Eventually I read a letter
Took off my sweater
Then walked an Irish Setter
With a harness and leash made of leather
I already moved on, but I'm not a forgetter
These days there's a lot of rumor spreaders
Throughout any kind of weather
Instead of settling for lesser
I got to do better at saving cheddar
The same is said for pushing a hard line toward treasure
Felt like I fell into a great rift
Then into a snake pit
Had to escape quick
Before any fangs bit
Instead of staying on the same
I had to change it
Instead of being makeshift
Meanwhile I started to weightlift
Off the leash
To say the least
I sunk in my teeth
And had a feast
Just like a beast
In all directions, even the East
I always wish the best to my nephew and niece
Now I need to accomplish more feats
Until I'm deceased
Became a changed man
Dealt some strange hands
Across a wasteland
Just when it all started to rain bad
Couldn't stay sad
Instead I'll remain glad
If I may add
Regardless of what fate had
I had an adaptable game plan
like a miserable cockroach he wriggled
through wreckage in the sump of his life
bottle in hand and at delirious mouth
in a macabre rehearsal of final strides
what had once been a passionate waltz
had become a legless inebriated pirouette
moribund madness personified
liquified insanity stumbling to hell
with wings of destruction in overdrive
it was a sink hole leap towards the abyss
each jump digging deeper and faster
into the rock bottom of body mind and soul
eventually all music and heart stopped
yet he remembered cacophonous decrescendo
enough to wake up from self-inflicted catatonia
like a phoenix and still tarred and feathered by booze
he decided to rise again whatever the cost
the rest is a miracle and sober blessing and still
he knows that Icarus had pinions of wax
therefore he stayed close to new foundations
of hard-won truths and the reality of his privilege
Written By: D. Collins 11/9/21
In my mind I have this picture of Ahmaud Arbery.
Being tarred, feathered, then hung from a tree.
Hunted like a runaway slave with dogs in pursuit.
Five-O treated the scene like "Good 'Ole Boys" do.
The truck was the horses, and guns were the whips.
Chased down and slain, became this Bruthaz end.
His killing strikes up some old time memories.
And, remind me of how I made it through the Ancestry.
Some had to be tarred and feathered, which still exists.
Just in a different location, such as Minneapolis.
Black women sacrificed based on the 3-strike rule.
Get the the next generation, the objective is proved.
Arbery got treated like teachings of Willie Lynch.
In the public of slaves, stretch a man in different directions.
Lynch taught all his disciples, it would last 400 years.
Passed down through generations to the Great-Grankids.
I wish that I had choked and died
On those chocolate candy bars.
I wish my mom had tanned my hide
About those tempting cookie jars.
I wish that I'd been tarred and feathered
For the dinners that I skipped
Because I preferred to gorge my taste
On Lays Potato Chips.
I'd like of course to quite forget
The delightful sweet 'life savers'
Which turned out to be unfortunately
A roll of nice teeth haters.
I wonder why my father
Didn't put a final stop
To the in-and-out of the refrigerator door
For another soda pop.
In truth, I would have received more mercy
From a family of alligators
Than the sticky, gooey caramel
Of flavored 'Now and Laters'.
The bantering I'll put aside
For I must now reflect
On the searing pain that's gripped me
Consuming tooth and jaw and neck.
I do agree the joke's on me
Now would someone please find
The 'painkillers'; the Orajel
Before I lose my mind.
RETA PRUITT
August 8, 2016
Plucking the Poisonous Parrot
Antonia had been a happy go lucky flamingo until her wings cracked
Now cascades of monotonous voices extracted venomous bickering
The parrot she took on as a charity case to quell her sadness now pecked
And would not shut up until the cage engulfed both vicious black souls
In her black box of contempt and too tired to shine life plucked away
Her coat tarred and feathered hanging from a thread of Munch’s scream
She attempted to touch away the poisonous croaking until she hung
Upside down from the swing with her head drowning in char coaled paint
Which oozed into her every pore morose and devoid of harmony’s rainbow
She became so void that all chakras burned in toxic cantankerous fire
Beatings of her life parroted a cacophonous mind pierced and exploding
Until everything shattered even her deafening malignant resentment
When the clock struck midnight and there was nothing more to vanish
But her Self and the stained melancholy sheet of dysphonic dysphoria
She remembered Oscar of the novel The Tin Drum shouting so loudly
That her crystal dysmorphic mirror imploded and bars bent under the strain
With her last resolve she plucked the parrot and An-Tonia was free
Colours shone brightly once again and the voices were good
She buried the bird under an olive tree with a song of epitaph’s prayer
And kept one single feather to remind her just in case it was not yet dead
20th January 2019
Contest entered: Free style poetry contest sponsored by Emily Pinet
As of right now I am closer to the moon than happiness.
My sunshine on a cloudy seized to exist.
So many shots at making things right but I always miss.
I wish you were my Mrs. instead I am stuck missing....you.
As of right now I am marching in my parade through the freezing rain.
I can be hit by a car, lit on fire, struck by train.
Trampled by elephants, tarred and feathered,
but losing you is truly pain.
As of right now there is no reason to breathe.
You are my anti drug, my Xanax and weed.
I know it is my fault, I never called,
continuously broke your heart, cut you open and poured salt.
As of right now I wish I knew how to express my love.
Tell you the truth and just be honest and be man enough.
My mistakes are mine alone, and I deserve to be alone.
I drive through sultry green-leaved countryside;
so divorced from toxic urban suicide,
I notice a black and white hand-painted sign
emerging on my right side
of patriotic red resolution,
"STAND UP
FOR YOUR COUNTRY"
Which feels aimed against
tall and massive Black
Lives Mattering athletes
on politicized knees
before national commodified cameras
of discontent.
Yet also aimed at me,
longing to erase homophobic "COUNTRY"
Despite our polycultural beauty
and historical promise
of universal democracy,
of economic regenerating energy,
Longing to replace this monocultural
narrow patriotic word
with our Whole Open Systemic
"PLANET"
of interdependent tribes
and green cooperative corporations.
No sooner thought
than multiculturally retransfigured
to please
and pleasure
and paradise us all,
STAND UP,
AS YOU ARE ABLE,
FOR YOUR COUNTRY
AND OUR PLANET
To do otherwise
feels like still having empty hope
that Straight White Daddy knows best
While his wife
and kids
and grandkids
and other sentient organic property
are poisoned,
suffocated,
drowned,
burned,
shot,
plagued,
terrorized,
criminalized,
hate-crimed,
vilified,
tarred and feathered,
hung,
beheaded,
commodified,
commercialized,
bought and sold,
rented out,
pimped,
capitalized,
exploited,
extracted from the herd,
marginalized,
impoverished,
Othered,
sex-crimed
While starving,
thirsting for global
ecofeminist
green cooperative
win/win EarthJustice
Soaking into sultry green-leaved countryside
divorced from toxic nationalistic suicide.
They sheared and washed until they uncovered clean rosy skin
‘That’s more like it now we don’t have to cope with the ultimate sin’
Being different was not acceptable but now the sheep shivered
And the flock had been tainted before the firm rulers had delivered
How deplorable that this unruly animal claims to be one of us
A curse much worse than migration so this one is rather surplus
‘We hope it is not contagious because power remains to be white’
So they exhausted soap and even toilet cleaner to get this one right
All this ‘black is beautiful’ such nonsense not on these pastures
Maybe evil comes from the inside such is the reason for oils of castor
Ammonia to the rescue applied with gloves and a hard wire brush
That stinks more than the renegade creature who developed some thrush
‘Surely the gods sent guidance and providence to test our firmness
To achieve sameness and cohesion for the good of the nation in earnest’
History pointed to extermination for pure race creed and untarnished blood
What if sheep fall down and contaminate the soil when they roll in the mud
What if it’s a trap because now the offender was naked and more prominent
So they asked for a council of elders to reach a solution for agreeable consent
By now they were fearful of repercussions and tried to cover up their actions
Tarred and feathered the dissimilar bastard to revert to its original complexion
But a legacy of marginalization power hegemony could not be removed so fast
There must be heavenly purpose for keeping with conquest for good and at last
It never dawned on the farmers hypocrites bigots and misled vulnerable peers
That God might be a black women of beautiful colour and quite possibly *****
10th July 2019