Long Trickery Poems
Long Trickery Poems. Below are the most popular long Trickery by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trickery poems by poem length and keyword.
I am a Victim,
Lured by mascara, and by a pretext piety
Induced through lust by immoral vermin
I am a Victim
Blindfold through cunnings to fest on a plowed field,
“Whore scammed”, trapped in a net by the conspiracy of a blemished womanhood
I am a Victim,
Decoyed through the bait of an illusion to nurse the wound of another.
Oh! The Desdemona from whose path I avoided avowal
I am a victim,
Of marriage in Freetown, the offer of credit in dowry.
And the sharer chokes hastily by licentious and libidinous overwhelm.
I am a Victim,
Of a venomous revenge of a late marriage,
The brunt, the consequence of many abandoned lovers lurking still to watch my shame.
I am a victim,
Hauled from far off climes to be used, dumped after use
Suspended in the gale to fulfil an ambition.
I am a victim,
Of a clandestine unanimity of an unbroken vow,
Lust feigned for friendship dictates and plotted through covert text, my fall their aim
I am a victim
Of the conspiracy of “Exes” plotted by the bed lure,
Of hasty overturn to conceal the fraud by a blinded jury
I am a victim,
Defrauded, demonized, humiliated and ridiculed.
A bespectacled gargoyle masked the visages in the loss
I am a victim
They couldn't find in this clime, but must take a trip to seek,
and by secret oath through the court, concealed from affinity save one
I am a victim,
Semen sapped by a desperation to escape a stigma of nature,
And a sorrowing reflection of an impostor on my innocent seed
I am a victim
By revenges of many woes, still waited to plow on a stranger’s lap
Whose seed was taken through anger for mere gain,
I am a victim,
Bore the spatter of grim loss to a burying place and have since never ceased
I am a victim
Of this highest ambition in the vanity fair,
Ousted when a sincere investment was well worn by trickery
I am a victim
of their jeer, of a collective calumny of their bed tattling
of the usurping of fatherhood, of their banter and this grim gaunt wearied
I am a victim,
A reflective victim of conscience.
Of a story not fully told
It is a black, moonless night; bleak and barren
the desert landscape is alien with twisted cacti shapes.
Elongated shadows fall upon fresh blood kill, with gapes
a cautionary reminder of coyotes, or were they vampires?
The mind can play its trickery when it is terrified...
...a wrenching sound, a blinding light, a sinister abduction.
Tranquilized and paralyzed, I falter as I lay
exhausted and helpless on this cursed Halloween night.
How can I escape these terrors from without and within?
Will howling werewolves be feasting upon my flesh tonight?
I hear the wind whipping through the diabolical world
of devils and demons
I cannot escape, I am woefully undone...
... until I am startled awake by my dog’s sticky tongue!
Written on 10/26/2020
For Halloween Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
TO THE GOVERNMENT
To you: I entrusted my boy:
To you: I gave my child.
You kept him for a long while.
Never told me the reason or explained the
disloyal treachery that had been shown me!
I think that it's kind of like reverse treason! You take my child away and send him to
front lines. You said he was fighting to protect us. Then I see the big corporations of
mirth, my child is gone. Now I am childless and alone. It's like I never gave birth!
My son died for no reason. Leaving me all alone.
Now I am at your mercy, and no mercy have you shown; I think you are the enemy, true slavery! You took away my dignity, my pride, and my son. Who will comfort me; Who will mow my lawn? He was my protector. Now I am childless and alone.
Afraid of every plane that flies; Afraid of a government who lies, and hides behind disguise. I cannot grow old gracefully. I might as well die too. I entrusted you my son; whom has died for the wrong reason. He was fighting to give me a better life, so he thought.
I call this trick you played with our lives, the ultimate form of treason! You have spilled the blood of the innocent for Monsanto and Halliburton and countless, nameless corporations, in whose interest you're invested
Your treasonous treachery, by trickery will always be protested; By me ...the childless mom. He went to fight with an innocent heart, fighting for our protection: He wrote this letter before his demise...."Forgive me Motherland I hope God will too, they have me killing baby’s women and children. We have found no Ben Laden...And all is not well! My soul will not rest, they have sent my soul to hell"...
even though you keep
your lips closed you're
speaking for me but it's
not some sort of trickery
or witchery but from
where i'm sitting
on your knee
some sort of
slight of hand
but your fingers
tickle my test
results that
i've always
known that
it's naturally
enlarged so
no harm no
foul while
i'm still your
dummy and
after the act
you will ex
actly put
me back
in the case
you keep
locked
so all my talking
stays blocked but
some day a
curious one
who seeks
to peek and
possibly
hear a
some
what
whisper
from your
or my trunk
but won't
make out
clearly me
other then
reading
what to order
from a chinese
menu for you're
and always will
be my ventril
oquist for the
thoughts i
think aren't
original
Form:
Democracy is a hoax
And it was meant to be
As it is, a set of sad jokes
A cheerful old trickery
You are offered to favour one
From the faces chosen not by you
The work is already done
It’s preset, in case you won’t do
So it’s always a meritocracy
No demos reserved, but elite
Travestied as democracy
Telling you what you need
It’s a master and slave metonymy
As it was, but the good news is
The elite can’t stand mind autonomy
Much more than in previous years
That’s encouraging, cause it seems
The democracy plot gets worn out
Age reveals those repressive schemes
I could easily live without
Getting clean in a hot shower
Gives you a smell like a flower
Pretty and fragrant like a a rose
From your head down to your toes
But when you are really flirty
I don't feel clean--just dirty
Steaming up the glass door
Clothes are scattered on the floor
Soaping up its slippery
Falling for your trickery
To join you in this fun game
This hot waters like a flame
Pulsating on us strong and steady
Until we both are ready
To get warm and really cozy
Under blankets--cheeks so rosy
From the hotness we just shared
Not one ounce of love was spared
As we got dirty in the action
Leading to desired passion
Celebrity Dreamscapes
Washington
Wall Street
Hollywood
Nashville
Where regurgitation overflows
And Barmecidal bait boxes
Morph their delights by the hour
All the while
Gluttony's promised feast
Ignorant of cyclic famine
Awaits the pernicious fate-agent
Scouting to burrow like a weevil
The new crop of innocence
Trusting destiny to the winds of chance
Confident redolent success smells
French perfume
Garlic enhanced delicacies
Fresh tanned leather of opulent travel
Are theirs to have
How fragrant the illusory air becomes
The temperature of anticipated fortune's shift
Where once a round-shouldered indigent freshman pounded doors
Now seemingly triumphant
Unknowingly erect as a naked rose stem
With yesterday's portent of rich reward
Rapidly sheds its petals
Mulch for tomorrow's next planting
How fleeting the enigmatic feast of notoriety
Time's incumbent qualification
For re-introducing innate principals
Cautioning today's attention
Is but a requisite for tomorrow's elusive truth
Yet
Fearful of fruitless coming years
Too few embrace cognizance over
Fading Klieg lightsParty snubs
Absent red carpet entrances
A maître d's forgetfulness
Yes
The harvesting of one's experience
Might suffer drought and winds
Scattering past efforts
To but memories of dust
Rather than priceless benchmarks
To reveal the authentic self
Yes
Such a disposition may well make "Being" difficult and distant
Where the "take a number and be seated" readout at DMV
May well become a feared test
Where waiting
Becomes a ticking-off-process
Asking if one can hold onto the simpler distant past
Those surprising coming-of-age sensations
The first time rewards of libations' survival
The generous thank you once felt by the first kiss
And yes...
One's elation upon receiving that first driver's license
We think
We review
We ponder "what price" aspiration
Ambition
So often blind to trickery
Frequently stumbles upon start marks
Not meant to be
Distant finishing lines
Not meant to be reached
Still
One can take a number
And eventually hear one's name called
To be who you are...
Or not
A cautionary tale of nocturnal abduction
Of trickery born of unearthly corruption
Heed these my words, I state categorical
Of evil so foul, in a world diabolical
No humour here that might ever be satirised
No wit in a man who be dumbstruck and paralysed
These, the last words that shall flow from my pen
Implore thee to leave ’fore the bat flys again
This God forsook kingdom of bloodied terrain
Deadens my legs as it scribes on my brain
A Halloween vista of gore ridden mud
With vampires feasting on alien blood
31 October 2020
For...
Contest: Halloween Challenge
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Home computers arrived out of the blue.
They had been travelling through mind-space
for many years,
Most of us older personages had not a clue.
They came with other free magical packages
these were called 'software' and 'games.'
We diligently spent many long hours
fooling abound with such electronic trickery.
When (somewhere just before middle-age),
I began to type incoherent and
semi-illiterate poetry onto a gray-blue screen
I knew that I was destined to be a genius,
but of course, I had underestimated
the power of the Internet
to both flatter and shatter
the innocence of all humankind.
In poetry, love and wisdom intertwine—a heartfelt love poem can carry profound wisdom, and wise reflections often touch upon matters of the heart. ????
Psalm 90:6
in the morning it springs up new, but by evening it fades and withers.
When my heart returns in seclusion,
I uttered these words to myself,
Give it time, be wise, embrace self-compassion
I must put myself first, I must, I must,
This time around, I don't want to walk away,
Taste only me, make love to only me
Reflected only in my space.
enchantment leads to my dearest delight
enter my soul before the break of dawn
A dream within a dream according to Edgar Allan Poe
For our morning blessing/
Happy or sad, our morning salutations/
There is nothing more appealing
Then seeing white undershirts and white teeth
as it captures the youth of innocent,
falling in love, with a cub, half my age,
A trickery of unfocused emotions bearing down.
I can see no flaws,
I see only what my heart allows,
Trembling lips, both top and bottom
gazing into those eyes of witchery illusions
Just this once, just feed me, just enter my soul
This frigid northern cold, the Africa heat rises:
Who will bless this union?
When it all fades like leaf
All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
Let me love you for now,
Let me smile, while you smile,
aloud me, to accept you,
as you enter my soul
Summary: This poem weaves love, wisdom, and introspection. It invites readers to embrace self-love, navigate illusions, and seek blessings amid life’s impermanence. ????
The inspiration behind this poem lies in the interplay of human emotions, the ephemeral nature of existence, and the search for meaning. The poet grapples with love, self-compassion, and the complexities of relationships. The references to biblical verses and contrasting elements (such as northern cold and African heat) evoke deeper contemplation. Ultimately, the poem invites readers to explore their own hearts, desires, and vulnerabilities. ????