Long Unborn Poems

Long Unborn Poems. Below are the most popular long Unborn by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unborn poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member My Last 39 Minutes

I lie here on my bed, a survivor of world chaos
and a very disgruntled citizen of the New World Order.
All those older than I am now
were initially exterminated without initial notification.
Many folks these days are not so lucky as I.
Those with bad health issues are forced to die even sooner.

Having lived my allotted 77 to 78 years,
I am now surrounded by my dear sisters,
two children, and three grandchildren -
one whose unborn child I won’t see in this life.

I’d always loved how Mark Twain said (true to his words)
that he came in with Halley’s Comet
and expected to go out with it.
I have chosen my own birthday(as we all may do)
as the time of my state-ordered euthanasia.
Why delay the inevitable by eleven months more?

My drug was administered 20 minutes ago
at the same time of 9:15 a.m 
as when I came into this world 77 years ago.
I can expect maybe 10 minutes longer to survive.

My goodbyes have been said. I see eyes filled with tears.
I’ve ask my loved ones to celebrate their memories of me.
My heart swells with sadness for what they’ll be facing
in a world where human life holds so little value any more.

I hardly feel my body! As my daughter hugs my neck -
Oh, my, I see a light, and inside it there appears
my miniature Eskimo dog Ollyver -
a pet whose love for me was so unconditionally pure.
With utter delight, I find my spirit moving toward him
as he wags his tail in gleeful anticipation.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Amiss a World of Violence

Amiss a world of violence with hate and greed strong
I withdraw within my earthen mound refusing to belong
Evil's ugly face embedded into men's souls
the wickedness they gleefully in pale they hungrily show
Mutilate children and wars for profits greed
those who speak against it are blamed for the deeds
A new world order for the richest one percent
paid by starving masses they taunt and forget
The earth bleeding with technology as a god
love evaporating in the sunlight with the fog
Mass media reports nothing but only spreads hate
only one view announce never allow debate
Stop the growth of food let them eat themselves
do not use real energy go green for it is pelf
No justice or morals or laws of any kind
mocking the victims celebrating the crime
Harvest the organs of the unborn and very poor
the rich class lives forever they must endure
A new world religion feels very very old
Lucifer rules the world his bloody crown of gold
Enough I shelter into the earth's womb
underground peace I found buried in my tomb.
Form: Rhyme

Withdrawing From Capitalism

I'm looking for ways 
to withdraw from capitalism.
Perhaps you can help me.
Perhaps this is something you want to do too.

I've begun by starting a garden
and riding my bike more. It's not much, I know,
but imagine 
the effect of millions doing the same.

I've stopped eating animal products. If millions joined me
industrial agriculture would fade into nothing 
and we'd live in a healthier world.

I've put my money in a credit union that invests locally.
Perhaps you and I could start a cooperative business
and share all the profits with those who work with us.

The slave and the slave-holder
are caught in the same cage. Neither has freedom.
The only way to live fully is to withdraw from the circle of pain.

I'm looking for ways
to withdraw from the madness of thinking I can “own” anything.
I'm learning to think of myself as a steward
protecting the rights of unborn generations.
Perhaps you will join me.

Perhaps with our small actions
we'll reinvent our human society.

I'm so woke

						 "I am so woke"


 A loyal member of the cult
i've brought my brain to a halt
Brainwash. Indoctrination
utter zombification

I remember when i was a person
before i put my mind in prison
I will demolish the patriarchy!
and then replace it with my lunacy

You see, deep down all men are evil
except of george soros who is civil
Where would i be without his green?..
i would be trash inside a bin

When i say "men", i mean those who are straight
'cause if you're gay, that's a VERY good trait
Now, if you're trans, you're like a queen
and i will treat you like my twin

Thank you hollywood, CNN, MSNBC!..
It's just a coincidence, NOT a conspiracy...
What did you just say?? That's ANTISEMITIIIC!!
you must be ku klux klan or nazi critic

Freaking republican! Conservative!
don't say such words. They are derogative!
Be more politically correct
or shut the hell up, more direct

There's no escape for you! You're going to capitulate!
you will become an "one-of-us", before it is too late
"DIVERSITY"! "INCLUSIVITY"! "OPEN-MINDNESS"! "UNDERSTANDING"! :)
some of the buzzwords i repeat, like a zombie parrot chanting

I am a rad hyper-feminist. Although we roughly have equality
my true objective is not that. It's more like, male fatality
Each ""woman"" should have the right to murder her unborn baby
i see nothing wrong in this. Why not... It's... homicide maybe?

Ha ha!.. I'm SO self-righteous and progressive
i look at mirrors and i say "you're impressive!"
I must say that i get offended by anything
bigotry, racism in everyone and everything

Ho! Monsieur trudeau! Psychokiller, qu'est ce que c'est?
is someone with you? John transvolta? Beyonce?
The boss from hungary is calling you a goy?
i am just curious, you bilingual prettyboy

Pardon me, comrade?.. What??.. You disagree with me, you said??
CANCEL HIM!! CANCEL HIS ASS!! Tonight, sleep on your deathbed!..
And you?? What's up?.. Why are you staring at me, n##ger?
cancel him too! CRUCIFY!! His heresy is even bigger...

Sooo... dear comrades, that would be all
because it's time for my Haldol.
© qos qos  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE

A love so pure and unconditional

Is the love of my sister

Marvelous by name, to be precise

11TH JUNE in the early 90's

On this day many years ago 

An Angel emerge on a mission to 

Liberate all here on earth

Doing the things beyond humans imaginations

Silver, gold, money and luxuries none I am 

In possession of to gift you with right now

But a poem, from your poetry brother without

Being bothered by another, other's opinion

Happy birthday to the most precious

For you're priceless in all your deeds, very unique

Not to be compared with, to any but still MEEK

So lovely, tender and kind all the time

Sweeter than the sweetest, my honeypie

Words can't comprehend your attributes

Most beautiful, my elegant sister

Waking up this morning with my mind flooded

With Memories we shared while growing up

My heart singing the song, amazing grace

For there's none like you or to be compared

with or to you, my rare gem, the most beautiful

I just wish for a wife like you, so independent 

Mother to my unborn kids, unconditional loving

Always sacrificing and nurturing without seizing

From season to season unfailingly with pure intentions

Always redeeming you're a life giver, a breath of fresh air

I have never seen a wife or a mother like you

Resilience and enduring in all thy dealings

Patient, strong moral compass, so Alluring

A sister like no other and forever together 

We would never render or tender linkage for 

Another in order  to put us asunder

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY ANGEL SISTER
Form: Epic


Pomegranate

Arid, bony-shanked carapace.
Shiny, weathered patina
tells of desolation,
Belies any promise of richness;
Yet when inverted,
Becoming regal.
A tatty, crown implies 
The ancient purport.


Tough, yet easily-torn in avarice.
Revealing, inner passion
Shrieks fecundity and blood, 
Gleams with shiny liveliness;
Yet when sundered,
Serried jewels.
A secret, inner-order shows
The abundant warrant.


Red, a study of translucence.
Deep-hued, each perfect gem 
Fades to stalk-umbilicus,
Foretells the unborn orchard;
Yet when amassed,
Bitter-sweet.
A fruitful sumptuousness gives life
The noble pomme grenate.
© Bray Holt  Create an image from this poem.

Romantic Love

In the brown leaves lie my valentine memory

In the sands of the dried up river my nudity

In the scent of jasmine garden your naked gravity

Who says the river flows for ever, never


What goes on until the blood flows  in the vein

Sometimes slow sometimes like the torrential rain

The images die and the images are born

In the garden you love

In the stench you scorn

Umpteen unborn too

Our lonely times are the shadows

They meet the light and give rise to the photos after photos



It is another river of both grief and glamour

The river of thought sought or unsought

Untying the knots the time forced into my spine

The memories of our valentine 

Like the  grapevine light and shade

Resplendent in silken sunshine


The equine entwine, thine and mine, the joyous resign

To the deep designs of  the sparks and  fire paradigm

Our love  responded to the crimson call



Then at the summit arrived the fall

It was lightening fast 

The cardiac agitation

Sweat in profusion

You breathed your last


 I cannot keep away from the celebration

Every year 

Wrapping the  gems and jewels

In the twilight envelope

With my valentine

I can feel the face and the kiss 

In the bliss of gray sky in the blue sunshine


Across the avenue

Two poems are kissing each other

Their dimples shine

You were very kind



The wet air

So true

A tissue


The sky turns blue


The scented heartbeat

In the shirts

Deep down the heart


February 14, 2018
For Valentines Day - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer

ABORTION AMERICA

The blood runs down the street, for all to see the death of the unborn. 
Some men take their unborn to death, and refuse to act like a person with morals. 
Some women have been taught, they are to young and should wait for a better time. 
The blood runs down the street, for all the children that were lost in abortion. 
The blood of America continues to go, down the drain, for many choose it is not the right time. 
Abortion may be like a sacrifice, that we learned from studying history. 
Abortion has caused many to be on a different path, causing them to live a life that was not natural. 
Abortion is not allowed in some places, they value all their people and welcome all. 
Abortion is death, not by choice but by force, love should always be the choice. 
Abortion has a history, and some benefit by the death of Americans.
Abortion makes suffering of loss of love from loved ones, making families die from lack of children. 
Abortion has no positive side, it is a sad thing for anyone to have to go through or hold in their memory for life. 
Americans should get all they need to be able to choose life and be given the right to life and to enjoy all of life naturally. 
Choose life and do what is right, make yourself feel right, and remember you only take your actions in life with you in the end of life. 
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Form: Rhyme

Not Like That

They didn’t even have railroads
back in the year eighteen hundred,
not every man would get to vote,
only those with property did!
And some of those folks did own slaves,
wasn’t that a great disgrace?
They couldn’t even keep Indians
from raiding all over the place!
They had no motors or factories,
and still wore tri-corner hats,
thank God in nineteen hundred
we no longer live like that!

…

Those souls back in nineteen hundred
were just so backwards, don’t you know?
They wouldn’t let a woman work,
or even have her say and vote!
And all those prejudicial laws…
they did not even understand
that skin plays no real part in
the making of a good man.
They did not have cars to drive,
that era just sounds like crap,
thank God now in two thousand
we no longer put up with that!

…

Those people back in two thousand
sure acted like a bunch of loons,
not the least because they killed
their unborn babies in the womb!
And what was with their thinking
that all cultures were just the same
even after mad Islamists
crashed into their buildings with planes?
And thinking that government could
give a person what they lacked?
Thank God in twenty-one hundred
we’ve grown beyond all that...
Form: Rhyme

A Romantic Interlude

A romantic interlude

At sunset, when the evening has a bluish taint 
I think to myself I should have written more
how wonderful life can be.
She smells so good after her nightly bath
combs her hair looks, at her naked body 
I think
to myself, I should have loved her more.
Life is like a short film. I remember the first time 
I saw her, the café was full she beckoned to me to sit by her table.
I asked if she was Irish, this made her laugh
Can´t you see I´m not white?
This rose in a winter landscape.
We danced, loved, and traveled, time wasted away
and her burden was we´re childless
 a baby in her arm
was her dream, at the time, it was of little interest.
The unborn came between us.
I made no objection and sat her free.
She is married now, with three healthy children.
I still travel the world, my companion is the memory of her.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

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