Long Vile Poems
Long Vile Poems. Below are the most popular long Vile by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vile poems by poem length and keyword.
Ever since man walked the earth,
his foul character has caused misery,
destruction, sorrow , wars and animosity:
a warrior so fierce and mean...
that God was forced to destroy his vile,
so that kind and faithful men would obey,
and never be without hope and joy;
and He called them: His choosen people!
And those men lived by the commandments,
and the tremendous task of Jashua
was to lead the Israelites
to their Promised Land...after Moses died!
And though God found
one of them with iniquity...He forgave him;
and king Solomon grew in wisdom,
but David, on the other hand,
laid his innocence before Jehovah...
making him so God-fearing and brave!
Now, there are no more prophets like Moses
and Jeremiah ,and Job a blameless
and righteous sufferer...being tested by Satan
for his unyielding integrity to God!
If Aaron displeased God, are we to do the same...
let ourselves go unrestrained,
and worship an image to replace holiness?
There too many gods we appease...
with a servitude which can't ever be released!
There's been a breaking news report about Santa's reindeer.
While flying over Russia, they were lassoed by vile Vladimir!
"I'm determined to ruin Christmas for everyone this year.
Too many smiling faces in the world," he said with a sneer.
An envelope arrived at the Kremlin. Postage was first class.
And a note scribbled from a poet's hand, that was rather crass.
It read, Here's a gift for you. I found it in a pile on my grass.
I hope it reminds you of the poop that plopped from your ass.
Putin was enraged! Someone took a photo of his snarling jeer.
When it was shown on the news, the world let out a cheer!
He's going to take revenge, and wants everyone to live in fear
but I think there's a hero who's going to take down Vladimir.
The one who'll save Christmas is a jolly man in a red suit.
Usually he's kind to others, but not to one of such ill repute.
He'll get back all eight reindeer and his sleigh filled with loot
and tie up old Valdimir, that obnoxious murderous brute!
Santa wasn't injured when putrid Putin captured the reindeer.
Laying a finger beside his nose, he got himself into first gear.
"I'll nuke him," Santa said, "Blast his butt out the hemisphere!
Then deliver toys to girls and boys. Fly home and have a beer."
You see them looking at the floor.
You see them resist the beating you adore. You see them.
You feel some power through your acts of vile galore.
You feel some power because power is all you live for!
I see them standing as men, women, boys and girls. I see them.
I see beauty in every single face, I see them.
I see respect and honour and love in their eyes, I see them.
I see people I see as my equals in every single way. I love them.
The planet is big but your world is so very small. I see you. You believe in hate and think your skin makes you so very tall! Your hate is what one day will make you fall.
We see you.
'Breaking the Trauma Bond'
Do you still like me?
Let me count the ways.
The tired old familiar abuse,
The ugly scowl,
The “get outta here’s!”
“Don’t give me that kind of sh..t!!”
Vile venom heaped upon an unwary lover.
I’ve been sucker punched, again.
Fallen for the antics of yet another
Unwilling, unable, unstable, and uncommitted to anything
Other than his own pain and confusion.
Oh, good!
Someone NEW to hate!
I know what comes next.
The gifts I have given
Treasures I’ve shared,
Regard, respect, admiration, adoration and affection
Willingly offered
And received,
Crudely discarded.
Run through the disposal
Put out with the garbage
Neatly packed and
Hauled off to storage.
Archived with
All the other
Past violations,
Slanders and
Cruel rebuffs.
My body is crushed.
My spine is mangled.
My nerves are seared.
“I don’t NEED any more PAIN!”
I wail
Mentally shuffling through
Well-worn files of
Past encounters.
Rage rises,
The Ogre is demonized.
Humiliated and dis-graced
Tears fall from fresh wounds.
I take refuge
In dreams resplendent
Of laughter, pleasure
Joy and enjoyment
Where wishes of the wisher are fulfilled,
Where food and delight are found.
Fueling fond fantasies of nobility of character,
Decency and courage
An Equal.
Bitter tears cease,
Fury finally fades.
And yet curiously,
The guilt remains.
I choke on the olive branch of forgiveness,
Again.
The Demon walks with shadowy arms that secretly seize the lost changeling who is bred in the psychosis of knowing the "anti-life" wherein he walks.
With Demon whispers the darts and arrows of discontent are filled with voices piteous yet immense
"You cannot ever..." "You never will!" "You are never good enough"
He is the monster of forsaken ideation, the one that mindfully will leverage his own exalted throne so you can bow down to him
He muses over his magic to fragment any semblance of contentment or happiness
He throws you in a sewer of wicked, twisted aberrations with no return
He smothers you in a cesspool of begotten history
The Demon shackles you within a vile black bevel of impassable consequences
Within the gears and inner workings of some grotesque derelict clock eternally ticking yet never changing the hour
He puts his foot upon your heart while pushing you to the brink of falling
Into a sinkhole of this grim and dreadful illusion of no resolution
This Dire Demon who's devised the "drug" of choice is the highest bidder
To choose to die before one lives!
Russia celebrates victory over Nazism on the ninth of may
But there is just a few things that I would like to say
Victory over Ukraine they certainly won't be celebrating
And weapons to beat them we'll keep on supplying.
How can they be so proud of their murdering scum army
Who've been engaging in vile acts of sheer depravity
Their ship the Makarov has been hit, by a missile in the Black Sea
That had been landing troops and firing missiles, indiscriminately.
I read their T90 super duper-tank has taken a direct hit
Russia might be able to salvage some bits and do a refit
The Ukrainian army are turning, Russian equipment into scrap
It's hardly state of the art, more like a pile of cheap crap.
Putin employed Chechen thugs to make sure soldiers didn't desert
Then the Russian army turned on them and left them in the dirt
But many soldiers are deserting they have now seen the light
Making a laughing stock of Russia's, supposed military might.
So as Russians cheers on their victory parade in Red Square
Hundreds of people are dying but they don't really care
They're been fed daily via TV with propaganda and lies
The fact that many support Putin should come as no surprise.
I look forward to the day when Ukraine, will eventually be free
Both I and the civilised world will be cheering their victory
Russia will no longer be a threat having been weakened militarily
And will never again be able to impose their rule, on another forcibly.
Written on 8th May 2022
William Lewis woke up one day to see
a jungle, frightening and dark,
not knowing how he had arrived there
or which way he should embark.
He heard the stirrings of strange creatures
in every cranny and nook.
There was fear, violence, and aggression
in all directions his eyes took.
In trepidation, he wondered, "where am I?",
as he got ready for a fight.
"Is this another planet, or is this Hell?"
he asked and slogged the bitter night".
Just then, he was interrupted by a voice
that informed William as it spoke,
"Your free trial has been completed.
It's time that you awoke."
Upon hearing this, he remembered
he had signed up to see,
given it was the year 2125,
"How is the new virtual reality?"
The legal team and marketers decided,
based on this beta trial,
a warning label must be attached
stating the risk of experiences, vile.
We search through the contents of your brain
and take what we can find,
WARNING: THE WORLD THAT YOU WILL LIVE IN,
IS A REFLECTION OF YOUR MIND.
Medusa’s Love
Medusa is a hideous and vile creature of Grecian yore.
Medusa, once a high priestess in the Temple of Athena,
Suffered Athena’s unforgiving wrath for violating her
Sacred temple as she and Lord Poseidon made love there.
Medusa’s Love entices all of her naive human victims,
Up to that special mesmerizing moment of her icy shock,
As they end up unwittingly gazing into her evil, hellish
Eyes and their bodies harden and turn to stone forever.
You can never trust those Gods who relish in making
The plight of mortal man more challenging on Earth.
Once a perfect paragon of radiant female pulchritude,
Athena transformed Medusa into this mythic monster.
As if this life isn’t frightening enough, with the advent
Of Halloween Eve and the cold, dark nights preceding it;
Medusa’s restless spirit as this grotesque Gorgon can be
Conjured from her lair at the entrance to the Underworld.
From the hissing and viperous serpents adorning her head,
To the ever-present shaking death rattle of her reptilian tail;
Medusa’s sneering and unholy visage paralyzes her victims
As her fiery and demonic eyes bring them a stone-cold death!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(October 1, 2015) (Unrhymed Quatrain)
SHE beams with joy, like one in love
with love itself and all that’s bright;
and when the Grecian gods above
unloose her from the Stygian night,
she sparkles like a brilliant dove
in the rays of the morning's light.
With golden locks, in flax so fair,
and liquid, limpid eyes most blue,
none are like her or can compare
to her likeness and lustrous hue
which give sight to the blind who dare
request to see her shine anew.
Thus, pre-ordained as mythic Muse
and well-worshiped as though a saint,
whom none deny or could refuse
or with vile words destroy or taint,
let therefore all beings freely choose
to revere her without constraint.
A thunderstorm was approaching in the wee hours
The sad phantasmagorical spirit loomed
Beside the emaciated gentleman bed
Was his dead mistress unmistakable contours
The gloomy chamber was the forbidden love nest
For the treacherous and clandestine wencounters
Of the unmentionable vices chained lovers
Until the mistress passed away for final rest
One day when lovers passion was at the highest
The gentleman strangled the lady and buried
The cadaver until one day was unburied
The lady was finally buried for final rest
The nightmares chased the gentlemen during the night
Insomnia was affecting his sleepy hours
Confession of the vile crime ended the rumours
Prisoner of mind and body in the skylight
For Put Your Best Poe Forward
Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tommy Boy
Honorable Mention
Nayda Ivette
11-23-15