Long Villain Poems
Long Villain Poems. Below are the most popular long Villain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Villain poems by poem length and keyword.
I wonder,
does she ever think of me
when I'm not around?
I wonder,
if thinking of me would make her
feel better when she's feeling down?
I wonder,
if I play hero or villain in the narrative
of her story?
I wonder,
does she know that truly I'm not
in this for the glory?
I wonder,
if I seem foolish courting any and all
kindness that she throws my way?
I wonder,
will she'll suddenly up and leave
me without notice some day.
I wonder,
does she know that I would
wait hours for her sweet hello.
I wonder,
if she sees me or sees through me
perhaps I'll never know.
©SamHarty
The lady, the lion, and the deep blue mouse.
Yes, it was a sultry day, a sunny day, an s type of day.
The lady wore a pleated skirt that showed her legs off like an open house.
The deep blue mouse was jolly, upbeat, excited, happy and gay.
The villain of the story was a gray cat, an ugly cat, a cat with mange.
This cat was 9 foot tall, 453 pounds, and thought she was all of that.
Some called her sassy, others used rotund, I only knew her a second, and I called her strange.
This darling story is set in Oxford, Texas, a town full of balls, but only one bat.
It's a simple tale, a wives tale, a Chestnut eve tale, this tale of woe.
The lady was not whom she seemed; she asked that we call her Racko, but her name was Lou.
She had hidden deep blue mouse in her pocket, after plying him with dough.
Yes, my readers, you have guessed it, mouse was out, and did not know
Lou intended to put him in the large, corpulent tooth-filled mouth of Strange Cat.
She wanted blue mouse gone, for her daughter had fallen in love with Blue, and it made her mad.
Not the angry kind of mad, but the "I am certifiable and should be President" sort of mad, right McGirt?
The lion was Blue Mouse's best friend, and he had telepathy, so he knew what he needed to do.
He put Blue Mouse safely aside, and ate up the lady, but he spit out the pleated skirt.
Taking Bare of Your Self
Reflecting on the silent moments when the Self absorbs itself
Tim is called preposterous a villain and contentious narcissist
He looks into the mirror ponders on ponds of accusations
Yet hurts no others rejects a portion of what he recovers
No aggression no hurting others no transgressions he simply
Choses to take a good honest look at the prism of his meaning
The surface surges with a splatter as he views beyond the
Grimace of distortion salvages and abandons faulty grins
In the nude he dives into the wrinkled waters of salty tears
Mediates in breathless meditation sheds weight and anger
Takes care of his truth at the bottom of uncertain sediments
Strips groundless fearsome fathom fragments and thus retrieves
Bystanders do not like that he appears to be marvelling when
He only begs to differ from others and himself before he rises
Dissents consents dissolves ambivalence does not retaliate
False censorship of crowds that cannot will not wish to see
When onlookers label in projection and throw a stone he catches
What matters to him and walks away with kindness towards himself
20th July 2018
When freedom becomes a hopeless dream
When the search for clear skies gets us lost at sea
Do we fight our last bit of sanity
Or box it away with lock and key
What becomes of person buried in sand
Choking on the risk of calling for a helpful hand
A voice going extinct, drowned out by the lack of help
Devastated by those who see, but willingly go blind
To those of a different kind
Many questions forged by a history so stagnant
The answer of change not yet answered
Humans were made to evolve
Yet biology couldn't even help the mindset of some
For centuries years long
Many have kept their racist ideologies afloat
What will it take for a world to listen
For it to see a new world vision
Where ignorance becomes a villain
Where the colour of ones skin doesn't make them a victim
Hope drains the oppressed
Leaving us bleeding negativity
Or maybe it's just acceptance of a realistic reality
It's hard to believe in the light
When you're born into darkness
For a world claiming to be 'progressive'
It sure does hate blackness
Deny, deny, deny
But evidence doesn't lie
The proof they seek
Resides in our blood
The clotting is the proof of generational trauma
In Dreamland's dazzling domain, where fairytales unfurl, A youth yonder yearned, with heart that hoped to hurl, Himself into the hinterland, a hero's journey to embark, To chase the chimeras of change, to leave a lasting mark.
Beneath the benevolent beams of the bright, bisque moon, He bundled his belongings, set to leave quite soon, With a satchel of secrets, a sword sharp and keen, And a map of the mind, where wonders had been.
He whispered to the whimpering wind, a wish to wander well, To find the fragrant forests where the fabled creatures dwell, Where dragons draw their dreams in the dusk's deep purple hue, And fairies frolic freely, under skies forever blue.
Through the thicket of thorns, thistles, and thriving trees, He traveled, tireless and true, with the greatest of ease, For in Dreamland's embrace, each step felt like a song, A symphony of solace, where surely he belonged.
He met a maiden there, with eyes that echoed eternity, Her laughter like liquid light, a melody of the free, Together they twirled through time, two souls in sweet tandem, In forests where the foliage formed a verdant diadem.
The alliteration of adventure, an artful, alabaster thread, Wove through their waking moments, in the land where they tread, Each day dawned with discovery, each night nestled in stars, In Dreamland, where destinies danced, beneath celestial scars.
But as with all fairytales, a twist of fate did appear, A villain, vile and vicious, who sought to sow fear, Yet our hero, with hope as his hardy shield, Faced the fiend in a fray, refusing to yield.
With the maiden by his side, they fought the fearsome foe, Their love, a luminous lance, in the land where dreams grow, And as the dawn's early light began to creep, The darkness disintegrated, and from the shadows, they'd leap.
Victorious, they voyaged, back to the realm of the awake, With the wisdom of Dreamland, a treasure they'd take, For in the heart of the hero, a truth had been penned, That the fairytale's finest tales are the ones we befriend.
So let this lay linger, a lullaby for the lost, For even in reality, dreams are a price worth the cost, And to the young, the brave, who still dare to dream big, May you find your own fairytale, in the night's silver rig.
I was 20 and I had a broad smile
But the years passed after awhile
My smile faded into a frown
After time I realized I let myself down
I dreamed of better tomorrows
Without anguish or sorrows
Beer after beer after beer
Trying to drown my fear
Now my closet is full of empty cans
And my days free of plans
But these alcohol tears
Only bring me leers
I'm surrounded by the ghosts
Of the people I loved the most
But it is their words that haunt
Looking in the mirror a face so gaunt
I try to be strong
But everything is so wrong
A quivering gun to my head
And a click, a click, but I'm not dead
The man I have become is a villain
See it's the outline my sin will fill in
But I have to finally admit
That I'm afraid to quit
At arm's length I hold my feelings
Tired of the dread and defeating dealings
I've got a meeting with Death
Every time I'm short on breath
I am 35 feeling unable to smile
And as the years pass I'll be gone in awhile
Cemented to my face is a frown
Because those beers made me drown
I am no hero or villain. I’m the further away from being a devil nor an angel. I am not the betrayer nor the foolish loyalist. Some people see me as prey, others see me as the wolf out on a stroll, looking for the next I sink my teeth into. I am neither a killer or a victim as well. I am not the escapegoat or the cause of all your faults. Not a prisoner nor a person of true freedom. I am not able or disabled, though I am capable of many things on both sides of the coin. Neither am I trash to be tossed aside, nor am I the thing to be accepted just because. For all the things I’m not, it seems that none on this earth still can’t figure out what to call me. I have told and retold them until I turned blue. But with all the effort I have put into it, it has fallen on deaf ears and blind eyes. After all these years, hundreds, perhaps thousands, haven’t grasped what to call me. Maybe I shall try with you this last time to say what or who I am. Then maybe someone will finally understand what to call me. I am the flawed, the heart beating, soul-filled. I am a human being.
The day my brother took what wasn’t his
Turned into a little quiz
Ten pounds out of mothers purse
Turned into a curse
Immediately I was the suspect
As he was treated as he was perfect
It was impossible for me
I was locked in a room not free
Logic to them made no sense
The first line of questioning was intense
A fist followed by an ear pull
To see if I was full of bull
He always was the golden boy
All he needed was a lie and a decoy
Instantly I was the villain
And that was the decision
As the belt comes out
Nothing was in doubt
Slap across my back
In this frenzied attack
How dare I show disrespect
Not realising it was the wrong suspect
This set me up for all the suspicion
And gave him free permission
Not a hint of guilt across his smug face
As he knew I was the disgrace
Until a slip of the tongue
Left the air hung
I was ordered to my bare room
In what felt like a tomb
Click as the door locked behind
No apology just confined
My skin stung and tingled
Swindled and bungles
No guilt no shame
From those who should protect my name
Ear to the floor hushed whispers
From the corner of the floor, voices crisp
A gentle chat, not one raised voice or hand
No punishment or demand
He was sent on his way
With ten pounds to play
The suspicion followed me forever
Nobody cared about their endeavour
Shameful glances followed me for years
Lies and whispers told to my peers
As the truth was more damaging to their image
Consequences were not something they envisaged
dark Lord, lend me your horns and tail
the monster you need is with me in jail
my brother mike, a werewolf mean
he is the perfect villain on Halloween
His howl is treacherous, it ruins your suppers
His teeth are revolting, especially the uppers
Nightmares will be given throughout the night
to anyone who has seen his transformed sight
who else has the haunches to run children down?
To scare them so hard, the earth turns brown?
What other animal's howl causes your blood to stop?
you can pause right here, the werewolf is your only op.
when he wolfs out, there is blood in his teeth
he captures humans and tears into flesh above and beneath
the screaming goes on for a long time until his prey is dead
he will keep you tossing all night, scared to death inside your bed.
Subsequently
I pretend as though I write for you
Sing of changes in the days to come
Again
I pretend I write for you
Outside of clock work
You’re all I’m into
I hold you now
And I feel it’s dying slow
Dying to get you there
how did you get away
There are no fairy-tales
No short stories of ways to go
These are the worries
Every villain gets to know
Hurt for the ages
In the days of some
Apply this method
And reach for one
Until the years bring back their dead
Inside of tears remains
the essence to feel relief
One Thursday night we sang
of desires beyond belief
I hold you now
and I feel it’s dying
Dying to get you there
How did you get away
"wash me away"