Long Tyrant Poems
Long Tyrant Poems. Below are the most popular long Tyrant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tyrant poems by poem length and keyword.
Inspired by the many true crime documentaries I have watched
and in memory of Judy Malinowski, whose death set in motion
a law in Ohio called Judy’s Law, to increase punishment to those
who use accelerants leading to disfigurement in felonies.
He started out gas-lighting her -
the wicked man who loved no one
except himself. He thought he was
number one– that narcissistic sun.
He also isolated her.
To no one could she ever run
except to him – that self-important
filthy scum – a narcissistic sun.
Her sister said, “No more. No more”
and helped her see that she
was not to blame for anything.
From that brute she had to flee.
It wasn’t easy. There were kids,
but when he blackened both her eyes
and bloodied her, she knew at last
she had to cut with him all ties.
She got an order of protection,
yet she lived in constant fear.
He stalked her, and she couldn’t even
know whenever he was near.
She was his prey, his possession.
To see his ex-wife having fun
he could not tolerate because
he was a tyrant narcissistic sun.
One day he followed her to work.
She did not have a clue
when she stopped to fill her gas tank
of what he had planned to do.
Gasoline he doused her with.
What pain and terror she was forced to feel!
That narcissistic sun, so hot with rage,
ended up gas-lighting her for real.
Diminishing virtues stripped away
From the flesh
By the fierce brined rods that freely
Course thy hot crimson blood;
Dry cracked lips attempting to
Fashion broken words of compliance
That so must needs to be spoken...
But...Ohhh, Meretrix...
My foolish and innocent child -
If you but only could!
Consider, Meretrix,..humility!
To which pleasure one thus
Submitted
Guiltily discovers:-
The joy in the act or posture of
Lowering oneself in relation to
Others.
For in your anguished dis-repair
You will find strength to endure and
Embrace:-
The acceptance of all your defects
And ultimate seduction
In the power of your:-
"Submission to Divine Grace"!
I will adorn you in the yellow Toga
Of the Vestal virgins,
They whom wise Augusta did abhor;
Burden upon you with an Imperial
Tax
Imposed by perverted Caligula:
Whither all Matronly protestations he
Didst dismissively ignore;
My Tribune forcefully exact -
When employing you in the
Degenerated role
Of my most reluctant Whore!
Clasp jeweled anklets abouts your
Shapely bones,
Decorate upon you like fired and
Painted porcelain figurines;
Whilst all the while, as your lost mind
Bemoans,
Choking between involuntary gurgles
And low-pained, stifled screams,
The gagged mouth bites down
Amidst salivating sounds
Borrowed from the hurtling
Nightmares
Of your darkest dreams!
For I will lift you higher than the
Tallest mountain peak...
So you may gaze with awe over all
The innumerable Kingdoms and their
Proud tyrant Kings;
Of the many differing species of all
Mankind type things...
And of the immeasurable riches
They so endlessly seek.
Lower you to the solitudes of the
Grassed floors
That sweep across the sunken
Valleys deep;
Where, besides enchanted streams,
Violated Nymphs quietly weep
For Abels broken schemes;
Now, tragically, all taken apart;
And for the wicked callousness
Of fallen man...
Whose desperate greeds ripped out
His live brothers still beating heart -
Then tore at the living throat of
The one true Gods Holy Lamb!
TO BE CONTINUED...
“Your laugh is annoying”
My laugh authentic.
My laugh is unique.
My laugh brings joy.
“Your smile is ugly”
People fall in love with my smile.
My smile isn’t fake.
My smile shows emotion.
“You’re weak”
I have carried burdens for people that bring down my shoulders.
My limbs show what I’ve been through
and that I’m still here despite the challenges.
I never give up and I’ll always carry you when you’ve fallen.
“You’ll never be good enough”
I am good enough for my friends
I will not push myself beyond capability
I am good enough, I am great.
“You could’ve done better”
Maybe so, but I gave it all I got.
I did what I could.
I’m not good at it, yet
“Why can’t be you be like…”
I am not them, I am me.
I am not them, I am me.
I am not them, I am me.
I. Am. Me.
“You’re useless”
…
…
…
“That’s right. Be silent. Don’t go against me”
…
…
…
“You don’t have a choice. You have no one to go to.”
…
…
…
“You. Are. Nothing.”
I have a voice.
I have my people.
I have a choice.
I am as free as an eagle.
I will not be silent.
Your words do not define me.
You are a tyrant.
And you will not hear my plea.
I am everything.
I am something.
I. Am. Free.
In this mess, we called a country, the destroyers lived among us
Babangida once terrorized all with Khaki, the effect of failure affects all,
Ruled as a tyrant forgetting the future, had power but looted the country,
A mere servant of a few days served themselves, retired with stolen wealth
Hounded men to the gallows for speaking the truth,
Incensed by the arrogance of Power, impoverished helpless million
Maradona was never a name of honor to the crooks
Bowed his head in shame in Minna,
Afraid of leaving Nigeria where criminals like him are protected
Destruction has not paid off, The Nigeria you destroyed stares you in the face
Afraid to walk the street they never built, among the people they defrauded
Men without vision, stalled a nation, forced together by guns
Obstructers became our leaders through guns, turned greatness to mockery
Systemic failure set in motion, evil genus institutionalized corruption
In this same mess, we called a country.
Babangida, where are all your guns that ruined Nigeria?
Are you happy now, can you walk freely among the people you killed?
Boneheaded barrack boys took advantage of massive docility
Apprentice without brains, cynosure of profligates, overtaken by fraud
Nigeria, ruined beyond recovery as malefactors are emboldened
Generalissimo of morons, bearing arms, looted the gulf proceeds
In the same mess we called a country
Detestable men and fickle fin protected by guns
Afflicted us in Nigeria till this day
you crawled from the bottom
of tomorrow withered beneath
my feet the smell of forgotten
earth arose bountiful cruelty
emerged my mind craved awful
goodness standing before me
a hidden figure moving behind
the darkness legs unevenly bent
backwards standing there with
broken blood stained wings a tear
as hard as tar remained on your
cheek who are you why are you
here filled with dreary contempt
faintness shyness bestowed such
a tyrant entity taunting me with
childlike eyes beckoning my mothers
instinct to nurture this creature of
darkness my mind said don't do not
covenant nor comfort the muses of
norse ravenlike energy look away and
yet the dry warm breeze gathered
from your heavy breathing seated
in a mystic garden sprouting inside
my bedroom Odin standing over me
i whisper you must please go now
you're not supposed to be here
knowing full well tomorrow is near
Drink deep from an uncaring mother's breast
As the sole consolation prize for the sin of aging
Break yourself upon a wave of malice
Sweeping the unworthy along for a ride
And thus, some men are born as magnets
To attract a certain type to them
How many hammer blows can a sheet take
Before breaking and requiring reforging?
Thus does God cradle me in his lucky embrace
Handing me opportunities perhaps unearned
Allowing me to skate by unscathed in so many ways
In exchange for all the other ways that make it through
A pillar of Luck, both good and bad
To roll one number shy of the winning one
Is also a form of incredible luck
Take solace in knowing you're lucky
Hammer fall, hammer blow
Pound me into mochi and dye me with your matcha
Soft and malleable; a perfect flavor of your choosing
And tear me apart with those perfectly straight teeth
For the sin of overstepping
For the sin of being born lacking chemicals
For the sin of desiring you
For the sin of being one man
Slammed against the ocean floor
An endless rain of hammer blows pounds me into the sand
Worn down by the abrasive crystals
And born anew as sea glass by your wave
"Break yourself upon my wave," you laugh
As six months pass with startling realizations
Craving more, but not from your farm
A brutal tyrant burns down a forest
Your cinnamon poison courses through me
As I forsake medicine in exchange for it
Depressant upon depression
To kill my brain to save my liver
Endlessly gazing forward to stop myself from giving up
When does forward end?
When do I see I spent my life saving myself up
Merely to leave a prettier body behind?
Are you watching, O Sainted Phoenix?
Was forsaking you the event that set me on a cursed timeline?
Was that the moment I should have looked forward
Instead of self-medicating?
Endlessly lost in logic loops
Preventing me from choosing either happiness or despair
Living in a constant state of static stasis
Breaking myself upon your waves.
Amram is a Levite;
He takes a Levite wife.
They have a little boy;
A tyrant king seeks his
And every young boy’s life.
When he is three months old,
And can be hid no more,
His mother makes an ark
of rushes.
With bitumen, pitch,
the ark,
she waterproofs,
she brushes.
She sets it out upon the water;
It comes to rest
within the reeds
There, at the edge of the river,
The tyrant king’s young daughter
sees his need.
And so she pulls him out,
The tyrant king’s young daughter.
She names him Moses,
“Because,” she says,
“I drew him from the water.”
The priest of Midian
Has seven lovely daughters.
They care for their sheep;
They come to draw water,
Filling the troughs
For their father’s flocks.
The shepherds come
To drive them away,
But the Egyptian, they suppose,
Stands up
And saves them,
And waters their flocks,
And with them stays.
Their father says,
“Why are you home so soon?”
“An Egyptian delivered us
Out of the hands
Of the shepherds,
Drew water for us,
And watered the flock,
And stayed with us.”
And so Moses stays with them.
And Jethro gives his daughter’s hand.
And Zipporah gives him a son, Gershom
“for I have been
a sojourner in a foreign land.”
And Moses becomes a shepherd,
Tending his father-in-law’s flocks.
And now, the shepherd delivers the flock
Out of the hands
Of the Egyptian tyrant king,
Draws them out,
Israel’s sons and daughters
Through the Reed Sea’s waters.
In the wilderness,
He waters the flock.
In Days of Robin Hood
In days of yore,
In the days of Robin Hood,
A merry band of outlaws
Rambled throughout Sherwood Forest
(Home of the Major Oak,
North of Windsor Castle,
And south of Hadrian’s Wall).
They dressed in Lincoln green
And whistled in the greenwood glades,
Arming themselves with daggers and swords,
Cudgels, quarterstaves, and longbows,
With which they used to rob from the rich
(Who took from the commoners, peasants, and serfs)
And then cheerfully gave to the poor.
Prince John of England was furious
That they would usurp his authority
And demanded that the Sheriff of Nottingham
Quell the adventurous company.
But to no avail could the Sheriff prevail
Against Robin Hood’s strength and guile,
Who traipsed merrily upon the King’s trails.
The yeomen knew they needed social structure,
Or they wouldn’t be able to live together.
To whom would they turn for judgment
When someone committed mischief?
Each to his or her own, God willing,
And so they were willing to pay the taxes
For some semblance of law and order.
But it was the king who grew too greedy
And demanded more than they could give
That threw the system out of kilter
And caused tempers to boil over,
Leading to bedlam, mayhem, and disorder.
But thanks to Robin Hood and his merry men,
And the barons of jolly old England,
They brought the tyrant King John to his knees
To seal the Magna Carta.
***
Note:
The “Magna Carta” was sealed at Runnymede (located twenty miles west of London, England) on June 15, 1215. The document was the first instance where the King of England agreed to be subject to the laws of the land.
“No free man shall be seized or imprisoned, or stripped of his rights or possessions…except by the lawful judgment of his peers. To no one will we sell, to no one deny or delay right of justice…”
Reporters swarmed, the rabid jackals,
around my house they made a big crowd,
even harassed my poor old mother
to the point she could barely go out.
I growled loud at more than a few,
got one locked up for trespassing,
thankfully they found other nonsense
and the frenzy wasn’t long-lasting.
But the damage had truly been done,
the internet will never forget,
I was practically a murderer,
commenters publicly wished me dead.
My love life soon faded to nothing,
barely went on two dates in three years,
more than one time, I'm ashamed to say,
I wondered why I remained here?
With people just judging by the group,
and my ‘group’ was my family ties,
condemned for things that I never did,
forever doomed to be despised.
Until one spring day this Christian girl
saw my profile and then swiped right.
I didn’t have high expectations,
but decided to go out that night.
Her name was Ester, when I saw her
I decided then on a new play,
told her about me, all right upfront,
then waited for what she would say.
She just smiled back, a knowing grin,
said,”I knew who you were from the start.
Had worries at first, then I recalled
the memories that plague my own heart.
“You see my father is a bad man,
used his fists and caused me to despair,
beat up my mother so very bad
she is forever bound to a chair.
“He is in jail now, for forty years,
but I am not to blame for his sins.
So who was I to disparage you?
I have no idea what lies within.
“No one should ever be held to blame
for something that's beyond their control.
I’m not my dad, and you’re no tyrant,
what you are I’d like to get to know.”
For the first time in so many months
I felt new hope spring up in my mind.
I’m Ester’s husband, seven years on,
no finer woman can you find.
We have two kids, a suburban house,
a big one with a three-car garage,
when media comes, I let her loose,
they go scurrying from the barrage.
I no longer worry all that much
about what other people say,
I am no killer, just a father,
so let the useless talking heads bray.
They all just see my evil grandpa,
and never truly will understand,
maybe I was born son of tyrants,
but I myself am a good man.
…and they will not take that from me.
Start
I fell asleep one winter night
Besides the fire burning bright
I wandered into the land of dreams
In which I saw an awful sight
I saw myself to be a man of means
Living in a mansion between the streams
Destined to live alone as an ugly giant
Despite the luxuries envied by the queens
Children fled as they perceived me a tyrant
Didn’t understand I was compassionate and pliant
I sought their company to love and play
Teach them virtues and not be defiant
A little girl walked up to me one day
Said she isn’t frightened of me anyway
Wanted to know why I give them fright
Shouting at them and not hear their say!
I thought about it in my dream that night
Came to the conclusion she was right
Our appearance to others matter most
What’s in the mind, are out of sight
Henceforth, I became an amiable host
Whoever visited me became my toast
I talked and frolicked as much as I could
I did not refrain from a little boast
My life changed and it became good
Happiness showed again as it should
I heard attentively what others had to say
I now perceived where I actually stood
Children played in my garden all day
Not afraid of me anymore and run away
The morning sun sent the heavenly blight
That ended my dream, awake I lay
End