Long User Poems
Long User Poems. Below are the most popular long User by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long User poems by poem length and keyword.
#Who_What_are_you?
Confused and trapped inside my little self, your questions exacerbated my confusion, wished I answered better, but I was lost too, inside. Emotional abnormalities, some would think I suffered bipolar, knowing not the extent of my suffering, I was just unplugged from making meaning of who or what I was
Zooming out of friendships, conversations, crowds and relationships, wished specialist may fed my saroundings with better meanings, for I failed, tired from being unable, tired from being not understood, by myself too. Who or what you are? Please don't ask
In me answers reside not but more similar questions piles up, daily, think my brains are to blow, wanna return to my mother's womb, maybe there, no one would ask me anything but then I'm here, who or what am I?
After 29 years of abject confusion and disorientation, a user manual shoved into my vision, to navigate myself to my lifelong questions. Found my ancestors at end of my long trace, waiting so impatiently; you are us , they said and they continued; go and show them us. then what am I? For people have asked
You are not basic but a rare seed we saw fit to plant on mother African soil, you are a torch bearer, a voice for the voiceless, a salvager, a mending wall, a spirit evoker, cauldron of wisdom and knowledge, you are omnipotent, go and show them, for they want to hear but they will instead see. Who or what you are?
#Poetic_Ink
My son is a thief and a drug user.
I'm not lying when I say he's a loser.
It's too much for my wife and I to bear.
He's addicted to Meth and he's on welfare.
When my wife had twins, we chose the wrong option.
We put the wrong son up for adoption
Our other son owns Starbucks and he's a billionaire.
He's not a loser like our other son who is on welfare.
When I told him that I'm his biological father, he kicked me below the belt.
It really hurt when I was kicked down there, you don't want to know how it felt.
I didn't know that a son would actually do that to his own dad.
He's furious because we put him up for adoption, he's really mad.
When I introduced myself, I didn't help matters when I asked for a million bucks.
He ripped off my toupee and people started laughing at my bald head, that sucked.
I got kicked in the crotch and now everybody knows that I'm bald.
If you ever have twins, don't give up the wrong one or you might also be appalled.
“In Love with an Android”
Do you remember Love?
...before dendrites became slaves
strung up on electron pathways
and hearts were tied in knots
tic tac toe
binary became
the rot we played
on artificial pathways
Android rooting
slid easily
into Jailbreaking
Passwords were captured and swapped ?
You said, “I’m Hot”,
Siri cooed, “Apple, open access, byte”
You whispered, “Was it good for you tonight?”
Siri cooed,
“Baby, you’re so uncool -
I’m in control, let’s progress to Code Blue”
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/AjI2J2SQ528
Björk - All is Full of Love
"“What use was time to those who'd soon achieve Digital Immortality?”
“By far the greatest danger of Artificial Intelligence is that people conclude too early that they understand it.”
“Rooting is the Android equivalent of jailbreaking, a means of unlocking the operating system so you can install unapproved apps, deleted unwanted bloatware, update the OS, replace the firmware, overclock (or underclock) the processor, customize anything and so on. Of course, for the average user, this sounds like -- and can be -- a scary process. After all, "rooting" around in your smartphone's core software might seem like a recipe for disaster. One wrong move and you could end up with bricked handset.”
https://youtu.be/1VWex7z5POk
SIRI FINALLY ANSWERS ULTIMATE Dirty FLIRTING Questions
https://youtu.be/CqaAs_3azSs
LORN - ANVIL
n.b. Remember to close the Pod Bay doors.
Profanity's a loathsome thing.
The words used are the worst,
Expressing thoughts most vile and crude.
Such language is perverse;
For when we speak we show the world,
What dwells within our mind,
And as he thinks so is the man,
We really haven't time,
To waste on words of guilt and shame,
That hurt even their user;
For words have power, don't forget,
Once said they can leave bruises,
That stay o'er long and cause great pain.
Be careful what you say,
And guard your thoughts lest you forget,
And let the devil play,
Little games within your mind,
For that's where sin begins;
So study hard and think good thoughts,
And just don't let him in.
I ate some beans at a picnic, the magical tactical fruit.
It bubbled between my hips and jumped out as a toot.
Original recipe is what was printed there on the can.
There was no warning label, now me loo no longer stands.
Pork and beans and the guarded secret of bush.
Neither one are user friendly, and both are quite hard on the tush.
Maple cured bacon, garlic and onion to name a few.
Eat them with some beer, that will make a nasty brew.
Beware of the summer picnic with franks up on the grill.
The dreaded beanie weenie, will surely give a thrill.
Enjoy the great outdoors, the sunshine and all of the *****.
Don’t forget the beno or you’ll end up smelling like a skunk.
I love discovering new poets so I click the new user link a lot
There are so many feelings on a page, lest that I’ve forgot
I feel excitement as I read the new one’s first line or two
Trying to find something positive, wanting to encourage too
If the poem is about sex or cutting, I stop reading it right away
They will find the readers, but I will not be one of them, okay?
If it is about suicide, I will skip that one also, believe me.
These kinds of subjects take away my happy energy.
If the poet is a beginner their rhymes may sound like a forced jot
I overlook this, knowing they’ll get better, experience does a lot.
I write something upbeat and exciting, to encourage poets who are new.
For when I began writing poetry, this was done for me by many of you.
Deception In Soup Creek
There once was a town called Soup Creek amiable and quaint
Filled with all these characters, a perfect picture they'd paint
It was founded to protect the innocent
Where one was welcome to come visit
A bold western saga exquisite
A Mayor, a Sheriff, a saloon proprietor
A bar owner, also a realtor
What comes next you can’t make it up, is true
A charlatan Sheriff who already knew
The saloon owner was a phony too
This is the tale what we thought a young fem,
Claimed she was being stalked by men
who used different user names
All the while she was doing the same
Many here feel used by her deception
Manipulated for her own protection
Even I was dragged in
To keep the adventure going
I was a bit overzealous
Got a vibe she was jealous
Cause I added a twist
And then there’s this…
Whose face is it?
Someone off the internet
Identity theft is what I saw
Or is madam above the law
I uncovered a foul devious charade
Just ego and hubris on parade
Meanwhile she had
Told a few folks who also were played
Madam’s her old self, and is back
With fists ready to attack
Writing about the value of friends
Pshaw, a victim again, it never ends
I don’t have the time for this
I’ll give it to you quick, Ma`am, Miss
What were you thinking, is it mental illness?
Tell the saloon owner, who invites us in for a drink
What in heavens name would Milton think?
I know I should move on gracefully
But it just didn't settle right with me
If lies and deception are your lot
At least you can try better not to get caught
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Born in era of
rotary phones and
Western Union telegrams,
my fingers now dance
on glass—no dial tone~
a frequent user of Facetime.
I carry the memory
and weight
of paper maps,
while satellites whisper
turn left, turn back.
My hands remember card catalogs,
my breath still holds
the scent of old book glue,
but my eyes keep adjusting
to the glare of forever screens.
My fingers recollect
the shudder of a manual typewriter
as it punched its teeth
into the blank white throat of tomorrow.
I recall when cloud meant rain,
when stream was a small river with fish.
Now my hands ache from phantom keyboards,
my dreams buffer between decades.
I am a bridge, a relic, a traveler,
carrying the 20th century
like loose change in my pocket,
spending it carefully
in this bright,
impatient 21st century.
At the outset of the pandemic, a conspiracy theorist I was dubbed
Like many others who had doubts, an elephant in the room had now arrived
In many families and also friendships, as theorists, we were scrubbed
So five years down the track, I received a message from my seventy six aged accuser,
describing symptoms she has suffered , I believe ,as a result of being a vaccine user
Post operation to replace a dicky knee
immediate pulse rate , two hundred plus or minus thirty three
So what has been prescribed, it's called a beta blocker
keeps the pulse rate somewhere in the ball park
It's still pulsing around, one hundred and forty beats per minute
seemingly to me, still a rather rapid mark
Protection from the "virus" through the jab does not seem at all to exist
with covid reoccurring for this woman more times than the knuckles on the fist
There's also viral meningitis, allergies as well, she wonders is it the jab
what else would have caused it?
Was it forced? Twas a voluntary action,
no government agency enforced it
Here's a statement that she made: I'm fairly healthy compared to all my peers
Does she maintain beliefs about conspiracy theorists?
For me there's now much proof that validates my suspected vaccination fears
Footnote: this woman has decided to have no further vaccinations
She used the incerating toilet to dispose of the horse dung.
it inspired someone to create an incinerater
for cattle , horse and pet waste.
the ashes could be used in mulch.
He titled it.
"Materails to Colonize Space'
the secrets of establish a colony in space.
they often dumped that dung into the old
hand-dug outhouses.
covering the dung with sawdust
so the oder wouldn't
ofend the next user.
But this idea ould be patented and alot of money could be made
by helping a lot of people do this thing.
It seemed a novel and humane way of thinking.
Written by: the Inventor and Salesperson
Language Of Patents
rights and processes
disclaimers and terms
maintenance fee'
priority and pending
variations like patent terms
esperson Sterculius or Stercutus
Patent Pending
+++++ResoLute+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++==++++++++++++++++++++++++++++The guy who creates the elastic snap-on strap for pants to make pants waist expand and contract to your size
will be one wealthy suiter!+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++