Long That sucks Poems
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It’s been corrupted,
Even the learning systems in normality altered
The Innocence of examinations
Has swerved
Into Guilt of examinations
Exam malpractices everywhere!
Many students have sown the seed of levity
Which has grown into complacency
They, being carefree,
Are shamefully confident
They would cheat to the bull!
Assured their money could in qualms set them free.
Examiners have likewise injured the education routines of our country,
Even WAEC as a body
Of these –
In charge of its structures
They, like an engine that sucks tanks of oil,
So do they take bribes for scripts exchange
And manipulation of grades imputation.
Parents and guardians are fans of students and teachers:
Supporting their children,
And moderating tricks with teachers and examiners.
These exam malfeasances are done throughout:
From the class to external exams offices.
Rain gently falls from clouds above
Upon a couple new in love
Who under red umbrella hide
To walk the puddled path outside.
Now ponder all the varied bends
Where rain and lovers' journey ends.
In shallow puddles some will stay
Or seep through filthy alleyway.
Some drops will fall to deeping lake
While others, thirsty gutters slake.
But soon enough the land will dry
And all will vapor back to sky.
9.8.18
Photo #4 (the first umbrella is a couple)
Contest: A Rainy Day
The following was added after the contest ended.
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷
Interpretation: I've struggled with whether or not to add this, but if you'd like to form your own opinions on the meaning of the poem, just don't read on.
The four fates of rain and lovers:
Shallow Puddles - romantic flings that spring up and are fun but not meaningful
Filthy Alleys - Toxic, Damaging relationships
Deeping Lake - True, deep love
Thirsty Gutters - One sided relationship that sucks everything out
But in the end all relationships end so find the best one while you can.
Mr Webster's definition of loser
A consistent failure abuser
Turkey that has no wings
Sunkist lemon of a human being
I say Ol' Daniel's wrong
Ain't nobody that far gone
They're bound to have some use
If nothing else, squeeze them for juice
No wings on a turkey, big deal
Who wants wings for a Thanksgiving meal
A wingless bird would be unique
He doesn't say a loser's a freak
So a person has a few bad breaks
Always whines and bellyaches
Makes everyone else a little edgy
Social bothersome , tighty-whitey, wedgie
He may be down on his luck
But a loser, come on, that sucks
That is unless you're in this poetry contest
Then you'll be a loser, if yours ain't the best
an original poem by Daniel Turner
Enough is enough of this seriousness
Back to the sillies where I belong
Here's something to ponder, my friends
Why is the word 'abbreviation' so long
I don't usually have to think twice
Before giving it a second thought
You're schizophrenic? That makes four of us
Skydiving is good to the last drop
Have you heard that gravity is a myth
In reality, it's the Earth that sucks
Did you know old people have a secret
That secret is known as luck
You know you have a small apartment
When Kellogg's Coco Pops echo
Maybe our world is another planet's hell
Sure wouldn't surprise me to know
Why do psychics have to ask you your name
Going to live forever... so far so good
I adore you more than beans and rice
If I could love you more I would
They say, hard work pays off in the future
I say, laziness pays off now
Some sage advice, never ever stand close
To the back end of a cow
All those who believe in psycho kinesis
Will you please raise my hand
People usually wind up in a prone position
While involved in a one night STAND
What happens if you get scared to death twice
What do sheep count to help them sleep
Ever wonder why all blackboards are green
Do birds shake wings when they greet
© Jack Ellison 2014
If I reach too high in the
drifting, dusky sky,
I'd cry a river...raindrops collide
rapidly from bitter clouds and
miserable, blue sky
If I reach too high in the
drifting, dusky sky,
I'd call and He'll answer my
supplications in no time...
My heart is entangled with lies
and distress
I'm still waiting...x2 for God's
answer...and I keep doubting...
That I'll never be made
complete
In His image...
But ill in my carnal-minded
nature
If I reach too high in the
drifting, dusky sky,
I'd give in to pilgrimage...and
sheer wreckage
I'm forever...Waiting...
Forever... Wailing...
Forever...sailing...
In the wild, endless, triumphant sea...
whirling and spinning
And I'm drowning and my opposing team is winning
With escalating, exquisite ecstasy...
Forever brewing powerful waves
Of odd, gracious obscurity...
Forever... Weeping...
Forever... Singing...
FOREVER... SINGEING
BURNING
Dreading for my future
Dreading my end...everything's a
B L U R R RR RRR RRRR
Forever... Peeling...
Forever... reaping...
Forever... Failing...
Forever... Dreaming...
Forever ... debating...
Forever
F a d i n g . . .
And He takes
FOREVER
Fixing...
My heart
my heart
Rips apart...
My heart
Is riding on
The death cart...
Take heart!
Take heart!
Fear thee not, dear beloved
You'll never be forgotten or
dead
In my memory...
My heart
has shattered into
valueless
shards
And I'm shipped away
To a new world...
Like a pilgrim...
Arriving in America...but I
wasn't like him
But I still have brought on a
whim
To be like him...
But my lights
Are starting to
slowly, but surely...
Dim. . .
The ship rocks
In the middle of the sea
And I lose balance...that sucks
Now that would look funny
If someone flashed a photo of it
Take a picture of me tripping
It would last longer
Or forever!
With a wallet full of plastic ...
credit cards to shape my social classification
phone cards so I can stay informed
a debit card that always goes in debt
a card declaring my citizenship and identification
a card insuring me good health, long life and liberty
gift cards that help curb my defamation
The more I owe, the more I glow dimly
All caught up in attaining the American Dream
Yet pale and lustered from self-affirmation
That it’s okay to be lost and confused
That it's okay to be me, not alone in
Paying homage to a false god that sucks
Souls and drains my pocketbook into the red
With lots and lots of stuff
I can’t take with me when I’m dead
There was, once upon a time
When “In God We Trust” was the norm
Card sharking, once illegal, considered a scam
Something only criminal minds or the mob would dare
Is now commonplace and no one seems to care
That it’s all consuming, eating us alive
Of all what is left of any dignity
At an alarming high percentage rate
With fake news and empty promissory notes
And the only cost is to conform
To having counterfeit consciousness
As conscientious as confetti
I’m flabbergasted and plasticized.
And...I ponder
Do people even care about me? Sadly, I can't see...
Sucks being bipolar,
Having episodes of madness, sadness and ecstasy...
I am numb
I can't feel anymore
I am dumb,
Wisdom out the door...
Change is a challenging chore...
I need some satisfaction
Not this...anger sensation
Action takes its time some more...
Seeing others' succeed
While I remain this weed
That sucks the life of you
I'm sorry I cussed and fussed endless
Because of what you do
You seem to smile away your sadness
I wear the mask of plastic gladness
You don't see or care about my distress
Maybe, I'm acting selfish...actually, I was
Attempting to be selfless is trust with flaws
I'm bewildered because I have become
Ignorant and blissful like many these days...these days...
Wrapped up in bed, worthless like a crumb
I'm not looking for attention in this frustration maze
I bet no one will read this..or would scroll away in inner success rays
Hear me out beyond the pained and hopeless...we all need beloved praise
Time is not by our side, only God and Christ is quite frankly
I had enough alone time, I need to belong a wee bit actually
Energy is low and under the weather
Fever above a hundred, now cooled off
Don't feel sorry for me whatsoever
These hot and cold flashes and what not is enough!
Are You Out There
I pray every day of my life.
Sometimes I am quiet,
and reverent.
Most times I smile,
and laugh,
as I tell Him secrets,
for Him alone,
and draw closer still.
Then there are other times,
when the walls get higher.
The oceans is disturbed,
the forgotten things of yesterday,
swim to the surface,
like strange fish that grew legs,
or odd appendages after years,
in the depths.
The skies outside are black,
not the normal storm at all,
but one that carries with it...
despair.
Depression, that sucks the life,
from the marrow in your bones,
one luscious scoopful at a time.
Leaving aches and pains,
arthritis and loss of density.
Irreplaceable in my life time.
It is then that I cry out,
as I know that I am lost.
Lord I need an Angel,
I need to know...
You are with me.
Some how the very essence of His name,
the description of His power,
is revealed in my breath,
Mighty in the fact, I am alive.
Some days the pain eases quickly,
and I count that I am blessed.
Somedays it is longer,
but I have learned,
I am no less loved,
only given a greater portion,
of challenge, as He believes,
in me.
In the end, when I have come full circle,
I am ever nearer to heaven,
and closer to the me,
I need to be...
for him.
Now
I am
A man
And I am
Not Holier than thou
and yet I don't cuss
What does this term mean …
You suck
humanity
you are free (choice)
the voice you make
is the choice you make
while with the same breath
you say... you suck
you stink
you blow(Ya know)
you're crap, pathetic
you're worthless (Ya make me sick)
So sad
You are bad
Chupar
humanity
You suck
a force ta B reckon wit
a partial vacuum
part solid, liquid
you're a gas
the voice you make
is the choice you make
while with the same breath
you say... you suck
you stink
you blow(Ya know)
you're crap, pathetic
you're worthless (Ya make me sick)
So sad
You are bad
Chupar
You're static
So dynamic
Now infant mammals new born
Suck off the breast of their mothers
for life and nourishment
they suck
one of the diverse ways of cleaning floors
a vacuum-cleaner that sucks
other people
They B beleaviN
yeah~ yeah~ yeah!
I know ya down
Yet I've found
A higher calling
So don't b mad
Don't b sad
When people say U suck
Tell em you're not bad no such luck
Chupar
Placed #6 in Contest
8/6/20- 2020 ©
It sucks Poetry Contestnter Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Beneath the city the river fishing is good.
I roam with tackle and pole below those wiggling tapeworms
Wound around the cement underbelly of bridges
Devouring the guts of the city’s glamour
Down here where shadows are long as green moss
And the voices of old black dudes echoes to casts
“Damn motherer, you crossed my line!”
Splash.
To catch catfish on a wad of bread is a worthy fight.
It takes shoulder chest and wrist and it’s not just the fish
But the current of the Grand River pulling us over
That sucks us in like a Thanksgiving ladle
Into a whirlpool of brown gravy spilled on a dinner table.
The trouble with catfish is that they swallow the hook
Beyond the use of pliers
And when they’re too small
We cut the line
With a lack of guilt like Old Testament God
Throwing the creature back
Hoping for a miracle.
Logs are tipped over along the gooey shores
And upon them painted turtles sleep
Sunning like leprosy sores.
Even from down here in the cool mist umbrella from summer
We can see the smokestack vapor
Twisting overhead like a genie rubbed from its lamp
Thin at its head thick at its feet still stuck in its copper mother
Arms outstretched like a Christ-cloud spooking the sun.
There are other mysterious pipes
Lips rust red as strawberries
Bloomed from the banks dripping silver
While mouthing a lullaby
To the muck
Like a whore at the end of her exhausting shift.
A railroad bridge rattles to life
Swollen by the axles of its returning soul
A freight train pounding out the Blues
A rhythm meant for bass and drums
That part we don’t sing
But the swing that keeps our foot stomping
And in that noise
Software girls flutter about like orange ribbons
Untied from the hair of the downtown towers
Drifting along the river trails at lunch
Jogging in pony tails and pink shorty shorts
Fingertips stuck into their cotton ears
Ever on the lookout for us
The creeps.
The trick is to not make eye contact
I mean us with them
The fishermen the engineers the long forgotten wrenches
Screwing cranks turning knobs yanking hooks from helpless fish
Drilling the pylons through chemical gold
That holds up this magnificent city.