Long Harass Poems
Long Harass Poems. Below are the most popular long Harass by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Harass poems by poem length and keyword.
A giant jellyfish was born
emitted from a neutron star
once on a whilom cosmic morn
amidst the stellar seas afar.
With tentacles from arcing crest,
medusa-like it hangs on high
cloudscaped with tendrils manifest
in astral sky of Gemini.
Exploding supernova yore—
whose light reached Earth so long ago
that last ice age was still at fore
and ocean levels then were low
by dint of all the ice around
compared to what they are today,
when history was oral bound
though art in caves was on display—
created nebula we see
dubbed ‘jellyfish’, made of debris
from remnant IC Four Four Three,
five thousand light-years from our spree
upon this tiny whirling world
of Man’s vaingloried destiny,
short-lived mid solar time unfurled,
in what’s to be or not to be.
If traveling at speed of light
it very well might take about
three hundred years of light-wave flight
to go across its width throughout.
The jellyfish on planet here
are oldest multi-organ group
of animals, found far and near
free-swimming often in a troop
that ocean currents might amass
together, and there is a class
immortal seeming, which can pass,
to prior stage, when foes harass.
In general, umbrella-shaped,
these creatures’ bells have trailing limbs
with stinging cells around them draped
to injure one who too close swims.
Pelagic animals, they dwell
in seas and oceans everywhere,
not all with venom to expel,
plus special senses; further they’re
adept at adaptation’s chain,
with range fantastic; by the way,
they manage well without a brain.
Could we learn from their résumé?
But back to Jellyfish in space,
a pulsar may have formed in blast,
or neutron star at rapid pace
which first burst inward, spinning fast.
The outer layers which caved in
bounced outward in that stellar scheme
of supernova with its spin
begetting radiation beam
that’s sweeping by like lighthouse ray,
perchance a beaconed message from
some bygone beings gone astray
in bleeping beats of warning drum.
Meanwhile on Earth we’re but a guest
to Mother Nature’s knowing eyes
in Goldilocks rare orbit blessed.
How sad that life Man fails to prize!
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * *
Some sources of inspiration were the following…
Article and image ~ What Spawned the Jellyfish Nebula?
Marvelous mitzvah "munchkin" minted
Thy eldest daughter Eden Liat
treasured more'n a pearl
(otherwise known as Rapunzel)...
donated cut hair to charity - you go girl,
ha, whereat your fine brunette locks of love
will be repurposed into wigs for kids,
and perhaps even don kepi
of trumpeting Bullwinkle, his Sciuridae
friend named Rocket J. Squirrel,
and/or his nemesis Natasha Fatale.
Kudos to thee savvy
twenty three plus year old offspring
voluntarily unwittingly hood
amazingly gracefully support
exhausting, flagging, grueling...
stricken young spirits and bring
joie de vivre during
treatment and convalescence
of challenging treatment ailing,
perhaps hoop fully nipping
terminal illness in bud
beaten into remission,
whereby family, friends medical staff sing
ode to joy cherishing
nothing short of a blessing.
Said sensible, smart and
stalwart inadvertent mentor,
a splendidly mirthful and mindful lass
yes, tis biased opinion, quite a
truckload of abilities she did amass
even fending bullies who tried to harass
attractive petite proportionate physique
confident smile shown back
courtesy looking glass
and papa cognizant,
how her art of humbleness
helped her succeed as top class
high achiever at Harriton High School,
especially acing rigorous
International Baccalaureate (IB)
(worldwide, nonprofit education program
plus even when just a little girl
attending Belmont Elementary
promise of success,
my feeble accomplishments
"star student" did quickly surpass
with flying colors earned free pass
concomitantly acquiring invisible
magic ring, and carpet made of brass
the latter powered by
Walt Whitman wrought leaves of grass
at University of Pennsylvania
earning stripes as Ivy League graduate
freelance activist while completing
internship linkedin with
University of Southern California.
Spellbound birth father
internally rejoices ta deum,
we knew e'er since Eden Liat
healthy growing fetus within the womb
whip smart progeny
undoubtedly healthy unbridled maturation,
I vicariously exalt storied accomplishments
accrediting and applauding
every iota offspring earned
blood, sweat and tears
created deafening sonic boom,
and where infinitesimal blazing saddle
burned blinding trajectory
catching eminent potential groom.
No form, no organization, no verse.
A crescendo followed by silence and screams.
A wooden home locked inside of a concrete tome,
With a world collapsing while we keep relapsing
And again the past resurges; what we bury tends not to stay that way,
After all, the piper must have his pay.
A dark closet and we’ve seen fit to rot in it
The Devil in the details told me to be his advocate.
And El Dorado’s gone because a city of gold just wasn’t sustainable
But if it’s attainable then you’re damn right it’s going to be painful.
And death isn’t an option for those of us who feel compelled to keep walkin’
On the sand-- or is it ash? It doesn’t really make a difference while they slash
Their prices by depriving kids of rice and pin open their eyelids
For their twenty hour shifts ‘till they try to plummet themselves off of
Concrete cliffs.
And Macondo is Columbia, unless it’s in the Gulf of Mexico,
but you already knew that, Mr. Critic.
But what are you going to do with it?
Frankenstein was the man, not the monster
The confusion first came when our blame ceased to reclaim
An association between dissociation and our relation
To whatever the truth may have been
‘Cuz it certainly isn’t the truth anymore.
Blank pages in our textbooks and you ask me to memorize it
Regurgitate it and tell you what you want to hear--
My foods teacher says no eating in her class
And sees fit to harass her students with her utter lack
Of discernible knowledge while we cook some Kraft Mac and Cheese.
But who can blame her with the pay she’s getting?
No Telemachus on the television—Nor do we see Stephen
Not while the Situation is breathin’, cuz that’s what’s loved by the station.
Where’s the frustration? The indignation with the ignorant elation
That comes with living in a used-up world?
Dig a treasure map out of the trash and get it unfurled,
You walk to the ‘X’, but it’s been dug up—no wonder it was in there in the first place.
And the esoteric is what they find hysteric ‘cuz they’re all in on the joke
That they find so funny ‘cuz the system is broke.
Politics in work, in life, in marriage, in LIFE,
The wall of separation was torn down it seems, and soon you’ll find them tapping your dreams.
Enjoy watching your people’s nightmares, O Creators.
Tell us it’s what we want.
Back in seventeen eighty-one
The revolution hit hard times,
Britain had taken Charlestown
And at Camden had crushed the lines
Of General Horatio Gates,
Leaving nobody to resist,
Except the Swamp Fox Marion
Who alone was able to persist.
South Carolina had fallen,
And Cornwallis was marching north,
The patriots had to stop him,
But could not yet match up with his force.
So they called up Daniel Morgan,
A brawler who had earned his fame
With his actions at Saratoga,
As a soldier he knew the game.
He was sent to march out westwards,
To harass and gain new supplies,
Cornwallis worried about this,
Let Banastre Tarleton fly.
Tarleton was a cavalry fame,
His infamy now widely known,
He’d butchered his foes at Waxhams,
When upwards their hands had been thrown.
The patriots called him Butcher,,
‘Bloody Bann’ was his sobriquet,
Yet many feared the young colonel,
From his legion they would run away.
But General Morgan knew all this,
He was pragmatic in his approach,
Knew what his men could and couldn’t do,
Where they thrived, where they were laid low.
Knowing Tarleton was close by,
He found a spot called ‘Hannah’s Cowpens,’
Nearby the flooded Broad River,
Here all tradition he’d upend.
Knowing militia ended to flee,
And not face a hand-to-hand fight,
He put their backs to the river,
They couldn’t run to escape their plight.
Now they would fight, or they would die,
But he felt this wasn’t enough,
So he split his force into three lines,
Plotting an elaborate bluff.
If the first he put sharp-shooters,
Told them to shoot ‘Epaulet Men,’
Then set up local militias
To form a line just behind them.
And the back were Continentals,
Tried soldiers of many a year,
These he knew didn’t break and run,
They were the few the British feared.
To top it off he arranged them
All on the slopes of a small hill,
Then waited there for Tarleton
Who expected an easy kill.
Tarleton had seen it all before,
At Charlestown and Camden field,
These rebels could talk a good game,
But in a fight they’d run of they’d yield.
So when he spotted Morgan’s force
He did not bother to survey,
Bold and young, he rushed in headlong
Expecting the militia to break...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
You hear them always screaming out
how they have no need for a man,
they have their jobs, their own money
and alone they can proudly stand.
They’ve bought into the idea that
women are no different than males,
and any difference that occurs
means all society has failed!
Then they get to their late thirties,
and two outcomes come into view,
ones who’ve realized their great mistake,
and those who double-down anew.
The former become so desperate,
but their choices are never great,
if lucky, they may have one kid,
but most of them never escape.
The later group gets more extreme,
insist their life was not a waste,
they die alone, and when they’re found
their hungry cats have ate their face.
Meanwhile those who did not buy
into all the feminist lies,
go off and have real families,
it is their line that will survive,
their values that will be passed down,
their genetics that will remain,
their words that will be remembered
by those that have not gone insane.
Some may not like it, but I think
that these words must often be said,
feminism, as a belief,
is incredibly maladapted.
So many people say these days
that being gay is nothing wrong,
some even go and cheerlead them,
say they were denied far too long.
And while it doesn’t make much sense
to harass of oppress such folk,
we’d all do well to remember
it is a path that brings no hope.
Because the cold, natural fact
that limits them always remains,
two gays alone can’t reproduce,
the problems of this are quite plain.
The genes that make them what they are
generally cannot be passed on,
if you cannot create children
then your stay will never be long.
Even if they get outside help
the surrogate is most likely straight,
reducing chance it gets passed on,
the genes quickly will dissipate.
Why cheer on a lifestyle that
in the end just cannot sustain,
it seems a lot of effort for
something that always ends the same.
When the point of society
is to continue, persevere,
celebrating what’s a dead end
seems counterproductive and weird.
We let such people live in peace,
but I think it must still be said
that homosexuality
in the end is maladapted.
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
In the wee hours of the morning
When the owls and imps were upon the marsh
We would take our old pirogue and paddle into the darkness
Our intent was to catch bullfrogs but anything was game
We were two young boys armed with BB guns and fishing poles
Headlights strapped hard and tight around our skulls
We searched the shore and stumps for eyes glowing in the night
Cypress trees towered overhead and occasionally the canopy would break
And we would see the clouds drifting quickly past and catch a glimpse of the moon
The paddles would never break the waters surface, as silence was our friend
Once we spotted our prey we would move in slowly and my brother would creep
Slowly to the bow. He would bend over the bow reaching out many feet in front of the boat and grab the frog behind the front legs and quickly stash it away into a burlap sack
Every catch brought us great pleasure, as this was no easy feat. We could have shot them with the BB guns but that was illegal and not nearly as fun. On occasion we would have to steal them from a water moccasin that was ready to strike. Those moments were like lighting and only steeled our intentions to catch more.
Once we had caught a dozen or so we would begin to look for other prey to catch or harass (we were teenagers and couldn’t help ourselves). The occasional raccoon caught out in the open was always fun to chase but never pleasurable to have in the pirogue with us. We learned that lesson the hard way one night when I pushed the boat into the fork of a cypress tree with an old mother coon eating a turtle. My brother and I fought like hardened sailors to keep her at bay but both ended up in the water and nearly sank the pirogue.
Other occasions found us pulling loggerhead turtles from the depths and trying to dispatch them before they bit off a finger.
We both have all our appendages to this day, but I swear Lord we tried, we really tried to lose them.
I never saw a frog leg jump from the pan, but the old man did make us slice them at the knees just to be sure we didn’t loose a piece of that meat that tasted better than any chicken I ever ate.
Long behold a secret told,
That all’s beheld in falsi gold,
That glitters through our minds that think,
Into darkness sink, we sink,
All the worlds the knees bow down,
This Dragon that kills now sends its help,
What Hypocrisy! More or less’t,
A conspiracy against our God blessed Wes’t,
Truth be told, ‘Who’s to blame?’
Blame Ourselves, each one by name,
That when they worked against us all,
Sing did we, party and all,
Too much talks from all the mouths,
That spoke so much, seduced by doubts,
But forefathers said, when threats came by’d,
Stood up fearlessly, war they cried,
Backed off the 'Bully,' when Drums they heard,
A massive troop, new Vikings feared,
Kept at bay all diabolical plots,
By our forefathers minds, united thoughts!
Rise up again, O’ Peoples free,
Make war against this tyranny,
But first mend your houses, strengthen with prayers,
To be a warrior, first family cares!
Now march on battlefields be brave, this Dragon and his legions taunt and mock,
Sway not, be strong, into war thou bravely trot,
Defend thy freedom and thy land,
From this unholy sickening band
Of warriors who know only death,
No life in them, in vain they bled’th,
But you O’People bearers of life,
Hold thy Fortress with arms and knives,
What choice do you have when freedoms threat?
In to war thou go, a Psalm a breath,
For they won’t stop at any cost,
To torture and harass, toil and toss’t,
Reasons so much, so put forth to be,
In the garbage throw thy TV,
And all that causes mental blocks,
There’s no time to waste, hurry up, the clock tick tocks,
Once thou realize that indoors gloom,
Out you go, and outdoors bloom,
Strengthens thy loins and all that lives,
Stronger we get, resistance we gives,
Then observe the difference in the world,
Rendered effectively against the bioweapon hurled,
At us, a thought of bringing all down,
This Dragon digs a pit, don’t forget a pit for them to drown,
And in the end will you see,
The fruits of war’over tyranny,
Of this Dragon, that thinks a’splend,
Soon, Soon to come its Endless End.
The *********** Effect!
I forgive you my dear country
And her ignoramuses
To my televangelists who prophesy
earthquakes
And hellfire
Instead of love and forgiveness
So they steal from the poor
To buy miracles from God;
To my shopkeeper who doubles the
price
Of flour at will
Even before Kidero completes his
speech
On taxes
I forgive you all.
I forgive you, brother
For refusing my handshake
Because I'm well-off than you
As if being rich is a crime.
I forgive you Mr Bossman
For turning down my job application
Though my only un-qualification
Was I failed to belong to your clan.
I forgive you my uncle back home
For perpetually grabbing my farm
Because I'm always in town
Getting a life for myself
When your sons are the chief's
drones
Who grab chickens from helpless
widows
And lynch witches in the village.
I forgive you too my ambitious
cousins
For conning me when you promised
To get me a job in your company
Immediately I'm through with
college.
I forgive you Mr. Policeman
For innocent incarceration
Torture
And hefty fines
Though you know I was innocent.
I forgive you Wamboi
For eating my money
Then running away with my children
And half of my wealth.
To my White brothers who think we
still live in the bush with antelopes
And harass us at their embassies
And airports
I forgive you too.
Before you clone another virus to
kill my people
I forgive you.
To all vagrants who rape our women
And slash the throats of fellow
Kenyans for money
I forgive you all.
To my bright law-makers in
parliament
I forgive you for your lies
I know I will see you again in 2017
In brand new bank notes
And brand new promises
And I will still forgive you.
To my colleagues fighting for
recognition
And job promotions
And wishing me jobless
I forgive you too
Your're just victims of greed
And selfishness.
To my heads of state
Sparking wars at will
Puppets of neo-colonialism
I forgive you too.
It's not in my position to judge
Or condemn you
History will do that.
Lastly
I forgive myself
For being too human
And trusting too much.
I sit here and watch you grow old, and half of the story has not be told, your rosy cheeks has reduced to bones and the sharpness in your speech is falling to the ground; the strength in your voice is shaking the earth and your courage have chased the enemy through the gate and I have got to see you before it is too late.
Where is the luster in your face, where is the walk that was filled with grace? and the smile that used to light up the sky has grown dim, and you are looking very thin.
You were the happiest person on the earth, and you were always alive and alert, I remember the glory that covers the room and when the moon sits in the sky it was your strongest spiritual guide.
I sit here and watch you grow old; you have a beautiful soul but the passion in your voice is fading and the rhythm in your hip is losing its grips; you have got to leave that place now to rebuild your life through self-sacrifice.
Is it you? What is happening to you? No one is caring for you and you need a brand-new pair of shoes. I heard that, you have no food to eat, and they continue to harass you and disrupt your heartbeat, you eat rice and flour without meat or vegetable occasionally, and you have gone hungry for weeks for an extended period of time, that is why you are so thin. Nobody is taking care of you, how on earth can our dream come through?
Is it you? You need some new clothes, a proper hair do, you need a manicure and pedicure and a good massage before you leave your base, your skin is very dry and you need aroma therapy to revitalize your cells before you drop down and dead. Place a healthy diet on the set and a get a bed to lay your head. You have got to get a ticket and go and see your mistress.
Is it you? Keep your courage and your dream will come through, study the line and you will be fine, stick to the script and you and you will be fit, be honest with yourself and tell the truth and the heavens and earth will embrace you.
I will take care of you and bring you back to your youthful self so keep working and renew your clogged up cell.
Little Coffee House
It’s the coffee counter line-up
A conveyor belt of people
Ready for their little treat
A little piece of comfort
From their favorite beanery
I strum as I watch them
My guitar like an old friend
They should say hello to -
But they never do
Little Coffee House
My band’s playing for you
But what do you do
You just want want want your cups
Your little coffee mugs
So move up to the front
Funky-spiked hair dude
Jokes with the worker
He leans on the counter
(I think that he likes her)
But people are waiting
And he’s hesitating
So all the shoe tappers
Start to harass him -
Hurry up and pick one fast
Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just need need need your cups
Your little coffee mugs
And that little coffee buzz
I look around the room
There’s a girl in a red shirt
Looking out of the window
She sips on a latte -
I think she’s an artist
She lays out her sketchbook
But she doesn’t start to draw
She turns to face the wall –
What are we doing wrong?
We don’t have to be inspiration
But how ‘bout entertainment?
Are we a distraction?
I can’t help but asking
Are we an invasion
Of the air?
Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just sip sip sip your cups
Your little coffee mugs
Not listening to us
There’s a man on a laptop
There’s a girl reading Sherlock
There’s a guy on a cell phone
A boy eating Jell-O
I want them to look up
If they’d look up they’d see us
Are we so bad we should shut up?
Because I feel like we just suck -
I feel like we’re not even here
We’re jamming
To inattentive ears
Oh Little Coffee House
I feel I’m at a loss
We’re playing here for you
But what do you do
Your busy coffee mouths
Keep sippin’ till it’s out
If only you’d listen
You’d hear what you’re missin’
We’re not
Just another gig
Someday, we’ll make it BIG
Sip sip sippin’ cups
Those little coffee mugs
Sip ‘em till they’re out
Little Coffee House