Long Unquote Poems
Long Unquote Poems. Below are the most popular long Unquote by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unquote poems by poem length and keyword.
No I am not a famous poet,
being published everyday,
But I am a man of society,
And I have words to say,
How can I get these words out,
When Society imprisons me,
Society sticks these labels to me,
Calling me socialist and multiculturalist,
And the Right wing call me traitor,
Those haters want me dead,
Yet still the words build up inside me,
The words have no fear of death,
And they rush headlong from my mouth,
Like a Forlorn hope of old breaching a castle moat,
And you talk of shipping the immigrants home,
back home upon a boat,
Were we not all immigrants at one point,
And they label me again you're a liberal quote unquote,
If you read and take one thing from this,
Let it be that human beings are not the same,
But our differences enhance our lives,
Would it not be boring to be carbon copies,
Of the man at the bottom of the lane.
Dictionary in hand Bobbies
manned state of the spy craft created
strategic peripheral outposts
a comma dated,
(sans syntax garnered monies) equated
justifiable to build galley ma free
Highland Manor wing - feted
via "FAKE" glitterati
creating surreptitious hated
surveillance monitor ring, which insulated
decked out starry eyed Starship
Enterprise surprise rated,
as an unbelievable well Spock kin
Duplicated Star Trek venerated
popular culture science fiction set piece,
where elderly residents waited
this other worldly architectural phenomenon
didst immediately outshine by alight
year among the original seven wonders
of the world prominant
as a buck toothed over bite
yet, didst camouflage top secret AngloSaxon
incognito missionaries delight
upholding correct language usage,
Thence trumpeting amidst
nonchalant onlookers as excite
mint hinted grammarians with listening devices
some flying unseen
as period size drones taking flight
other more sophisticated
electronic accouterments
dolled, gussied, issued with apostrophe
shaped flower buds scaling height
of cerulean sky, where blinding light
of a solar ellipsis, thus
arousing no discovered night
gallery suspicion during
feted occasion rife with polite
"FAKE" markedly questionable legatees quite
suitable asper The Art Of The Deal during
ribbon cutting ceremony,
and after words right
ting up citations slyly
slipped under windshield wipers
as the madding massed crowdsource,
would take dispersed out of sight
nonetheless echoes plenti chutzpah left
English figures of speech
uttering unstinting (quote unquote)
premature ejaculations,
eh so blandly trite
non-sequitur visited
by thee epic of Gilgamesh
for a dangling participle
during the split infinitive Sumer season
(exclamation point) no more to write!
Heaven quote-unquote existed...pre-the universe’s birth...
If’s God’s really real, it’s Him that Made it, just for what it’s worth...
That would mean this life’s illusion...Manufactured, something ‘other’...
How on earth are we supposed to know what’s real or just a Cover?...
That’s just it!...It can’t be answered!...No mere man can say for sure...
Where’d’ya draw the line when space and time are cogs in God’s Design?...
Who can say the world existed...pre-the day you came to be?...
Since we know it’s all illusion...who can prove that ‘they’ can see?...
Maybe some of us are Chosen? Maybe only you or me?...
We can’t say for certain so we’ll treat each other beautifully...
Either way, it’s God’s Design...Avoid the risk of spiritual fine!...
Time, they say’s eternal though I thought they said that God’s Exempt...
He Exists outside the structure...that we quote-unquote enjoy...
Everything is Planned...’Add’, understand and don’t ‘destroy’...
I am...The source of consciousness comes from outside of the body...This suggests, if not, say, proves, that ‘thoughts’ are all, say, channeled...’...“I make known the end(, my friend) from(, say,) the (start or, say,) beginning...what is still to come. I say, ‘My...will (is not ‘my’ own)”’...
God ‘Removed’ the dark from light. That’s right! The two were once as one... while ‘Darkness’(, some say ‘evil’,) is all God. The doctor’s wrong!...Song was first inspired by silence...Love is noticed most through hate...God Made men...believe in ‘evil’...Beasts will meet at Moses’ gate...Just wait until you hear what’s in your DNA...It’s Yahweh’s Name!...Why, we are but Machines of sorts...His naughts and ones, I am...A shameless sham; free will’s illusion...Logic sticks to ‘my’ conclusion...All ‘our’ thoughts and science must make sense within The Plan...If channeling is, indeed, a thing, which gives the voice box things to sing, say, how can any thought be free within Set-destiny?...When we factor in the theory; butterflies meet sliding doors; each tidal wave’s a steppingstone-pre- Planned-perpetually...Time does not exist, in truth...The dawn of time is always now...The universe is screaming ‘Trust!’...just please don’t ask me how...I am...A(re )men(?)...my friend or, in fact, foe...The soul’s a sort of software so know nothing that ‘they’ say today can prove that God’s not there...I swear...I am..
Being driven by others
who just don't see your illness
since it's not a broken arm or leg
keep saying I'm special I can win
the being disqualified because
you never attended college.
nor because you suffered injury
or illness being told you just.
cannot compete struggling.
because someone said you
and your mind cannot write.
its own thoughts searching.
finding real hope within
The Special Olympics
where you are among
your own peers why one
must believe writing poetry
is no different that being able
to express yourself through
poetry and song is a gift no one
has the right to take it away
from you the feeling being free
in your mind to be challenged to soar
in spite being quote unquote broken
silencing yourself words unspoken
Maya Angelou wrote of great suffrage
depression and abuse as did Virginia Woolf
during her madness mental disease her best
poetry was created including Emily Dickinson
Edgar Alan Poe William Shakespeare
many great writers mentally disabled persons
think write read and sing teaching us about
mental illness why they have a lot to say
well in my book I think that it's okay
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Quote unquote friends i have made since he.
How do they see me now? Was i just a sign on a highway? Just looking and cruising me by.
Its good that my peers know how i operate yet, it unsatisfied me that they know who i am
i think of it quite useless.
It’s always “young and free” but i don’t feel free. countless days and nights entrapped in four walls. my social skills are torn and low, i’ve wrapped myself in isolation
I don’t feel happy.. but i feel peace. enough peace to not become so faint and cruel to this world who showed no remorse.
I’m uneasy and ready to rest.
You were my first love my greatest treasure
Sadly my world was shaken beyond measure
Silently like a thief in the night death came
Took your body your soul it could not claim
I saw you suffering and fighting the pain
Disease killed its victim again and again
My tears collect like incense in a bowl
Tears have a habit of cleansing the soul
Like a rudderless boat in a boisterous sea
I’m not sure how things will end for me
Kind words of comfort from all around
Unconditional grace and love abound
I would like to conclude this eulogy this tribute
With the words of the minister so resolute
And I quote “Let us not wait for the storm to pass
But let us rather learn to dance in the rain” unquote
Fare thee well my forever love my life
Hitler's final attack on quote unquote
undesirable humans from the bile's of slave
ships prison camps European complete
infestation thee German female cock roach
feasting on poor captured humans and their
belongings during world war two carried to
America in the cracks boxes on boats
going for tea I turned on my kitchen light
what an ugly sight she stood there long
dark itchy hairy legs lips lined with flesh
pink liner she awaits a light in order to
scatter through any crack to slide into
homes windowpanes paneling door frames
once in side she scurries inside cupboards
closet prancing through old clothing one
in her nature she releases a powerful yellow
stench staining walls and furniture finally
the hairs on her legs make a god awful
sound alerting her the owners are coming
prowling in the darkness she hides inside
pages and pages books old letters photos
receipts leaving black dusty feces spreading
fecal matter carrying hundreds of eggs on
her back her selfish nature allows her to
actually breed alone without a spouse a
mate multiplying within the darkness of
Lucifer’s lair night crawlers leaving disease
and carney in her wake feasting in left
over scum crumbs damp wet old wood
someone screams look the time it takes
to open book splat swat frightening all the
guess truly horrifying to see exhilarating to
just smash or watch her run back up a tree