Long Abash Poems

Long Abash Poems. Below are the most popular long Abash by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Abash poems by poem length and keyword.


Strikingly Crafty Logomaniac Presents

Strikingly crafty logomaniac presents...
what else... his trademark blatherskite!

While sprawled comfortably
numb upon davenport
Iowa daily dose of poetic mishmash,
thus yours truly couches, kneads, sports...
his imponderable matted
swiftly styled balderdash
noah intent to kindle
potential ark enemy, nor abash

please pardon your
garden variety philologos,
preparing himself for backlash
he spouts nonsense words
with chutzpah and brash
his logorrhea affliction begets
meaningless rot i.e. namely ishkabibble,
where scapegoated test dummies crash

inscrutably, dumbly, busily blankly
boxing, blinking, batting... eyelash
hijacking, flouting, disregarding... covenant,
not causing corpus callosum damage
basically self made edict equals hogwash,
within one North American banana republic
predicated upon fiat gnash
trumpets blatantly non subliminal,

subordinate, subtle... ho hum
messages cuz bosh to liberty we smash
with most popular refrain
"send her/him back" cash
hearing purported dispensable
deportee with swash-
buck killing bravado
marquee, where klieg lights
blindingly broadcast in a flash.

"FAKE" mania loosed doth stall
refugees, where desperation witnesses
land of milk and honey,
perhaps some heading to Broomall,
who if necessary crawl
escaping forced sex trafficking poverty,
persecution, violence... downfall,
viz puppet government

tricked out noble (no bull) border wall
configured as demilitarized zone
hostilility spewing noxious,
poisonous, venomous gall
courtesy commander in chief
who essentially hoops to forestall
his impeachment proceedings
bristling, ranting, scathing... twitter feeds

spewing bosh raining hatred filled squall
spouting jingoistic rhetoric
atop anointed hall
of the mountain king
eerily similar to Taj Mahal
firing expletive epithets

assenting military mandating withdrawal
loosing vicious police and/or junkyard dogs
declaring no exemption against marshall
law innocence absolute zero guard
as sharp teeth nsync with flesh maul
cue hideous sinister laughter
welcome to danse macabre ball!


Premium Member Wet Winter of Spring

WET WINTER OF SPRING

O wet wet Winter of Spring!
The cool rushing season of rain.
O Adam’s sons and daughters,
Inspire the West! Upend the fires!

The battle ax lays low the forest,
Leaping with dinosaur shadows.
A flicker of water would quench
And lick up the ferocious ash.

Abash the seams of the living seed,
embers of the demonic weed of hell.
Sweep clean the hearth, sweet Eve.
Deliver woe to the child of dust.

O wet wet Winter of Spring!
Delicious child of Georgia heat.
Applause from heaven sounds
As you deliver bad news and retreat.

The stagecoach overhead
Rushes for sodden gold.
Hear the stampede of men.
Horses snort out the stench.

Lewis and Clark needed for a venture.
Or the Balta sled with cure of snow.
Even Chinese water torture land ho.
A river of enormous size would quench

The Western beat, the trodden heat
O treacherous molten seizure of land
Trade with the Eastern blizzard of rain
Boats bob in Georgia. Flames tame the coast.

O luscious Winter of Spring delivers a sled full of woe.

8/1/2018

Thee Grim Reaper As Pedagogical Savior

(fear not stalwart reader, the sword of Damocles just grazed thy chest when fate found us a place to call home).

to avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness
which near future prospect 
   induces existential angst i confess.
 
Today i.e. about two years ago (end of rope rhyme rote 
   approximately deux orbitz round the sun), 
i wanted ta die and bid god riddance grandly 
   going gamesomely gra grave, 
   de deum, and cymbal crash

to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually - 
   all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash
how tempting to seek ot a solution sans hemlock 
   or other deadly potion, 

   whereby toothless mouth need not gnash
boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of 
   mortal freedoms renting psych ass under 
   with purposelessness mine hash

tag, which bout with suicide 
   while n the edge of thirteen - 
   Anorexia nervosa defeated - 
   then as now experience 
   10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash

lacerating, flagellating, 
   and repeatedly rousing thoughts 
   shin to circle back to why death be not proud 
   when life on par with a mash

up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus 
   analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash
the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring 
   in step happy jollity, 
   and levity attempt to make light 

   of psychological me's mental illness rash
whence thru the (then) lvii roam min years 
   as chief garbage taster of trash
hurled my way gnome matter 

   the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash 
distance to inflict din er of dissonance 
   targeted this mortal for'er abash
as soon as he got expelled 
   from the womb, his reddened ears did bash
from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses 

   into the maternity ward 
   of me late mum sped like dash
her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate 
   a con vixen dancer, cuz ova this rude half 
   re: that came a boot 
   from genetic chromosomal dna wash.

Premium Member Addicted to Your Alchemy

Fan in close proximity to my breast
Large and tinted pink
You drink in my dance of squirming
You love how I wear my abash
My heartbeat upon my face
You see it…you feel it
You’re in the shadows
I’m haunted by your presence
yet, I’m “addicted to your alchemy”
the outcome of which frightens me
I can’t see your face but I know
that you’re more handsome than anyone
has a right to be…confident that you are
painted upon the pages of history
Nameless…faceless entity
You slay me
I faint under your thumb that snaps me
as I pose on the love seat
Why can’t I run
Why don’t I
Are you a phantom…I fathom
you’re wrapped in black silk
from head to toe
I’ll grab my cross, you must know

Premium Member Last Flight

LAST FLIGHT

As a young bird I sang a whimsical tune that no one quite understood.  Since my first departure, I never stopped flying not even in the most testing moments.

I was pushed from the nest without nurturing or training only neglect as I struggled vigorously flapping my wings then suddenly taking flight to an uncertain independence.

Some thought they heard the sweetest cry but sore were my wings in those turbulent skies. Though, always, asking myself why would anyone abash a tiny insignificant bird?

I flew with wings bruised and tattered by the heartlessness of others, while all I wanted was the chance to convey my story of a merciless journey.

Today my prayers ask only, ‘Will God raise me from up from under these clouds of crushing defeat with fractured bones and scarcity of feathers to take flight or shall I succumb to this final fall?’

I’ve never given up hope longing for an end to the relentless rains and impenetrable dust storms pounding against my shattered wings and spirit.

Many years ago you judged me as a painfully shy creature but my fate as a young bird forced me to fly or die in the grueling reality of lone survival.

Neither time nor error stopped this arduous flight rejected by immense winds, my heart always hiding high above clouds as the day’s blue skies went dark.

With so many fearful thoughts as I shiver perched alone in a lowly tree from my soul one question does pour out:  “Is this my last flight?”

Slowly back in flight to a meager nest only to find I’ve lost a beloved kin, I no longer have a place of solace; surely this ill-timed loss has broken me.

If I’m no longer able to take to the sky this deeply worries me leaving behind my only fledgling and although he has his primary feathers I believe he still requires my loving guidance and protection.

Will I live to rejoice in my devotion and faithfulness to God?  Or, have I fought this battle and prayed all the days of my life for an inconsequential conclusion!

As my last flight draws near, I implore dearest God to allow me dignity in that departure so that I can bestow a profound hope in others who continue to face the most severe of persecutions in this life.


Thee Grim Reaper As Pedagogical Savior De Jour

written just a couple weeks before the lease at prior abode would expire, and no affordable habitat....just by happenstance and a thankful invisible hand of destiny.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
To avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness
which near future prospect 
   induces existential angst i confess.

Today, i wanna die and bid god riddance grandly 
   going gamesomely gra grave, 
   de deum, and cymbal crash
to Bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually - 
   all the grinding hardships would be gone in a flash
how tempting to seek a solution sans hemlock 
   or other deadly potion, 

   whereby toothless mouth need not gnash
boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of 
   mortal freedoms renting psych ass under 
   with purposelessness mine hash
tag, which bout with suicide 
   while n the edge of thirteen - 

   Anorexia nervosa defeated - 
   then as now experience 
   10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash
lacerating, flagellating, 
   and repeatedly rousing thoughts 
   shin to circle back to why 
   death be not proud when life on par with a mash
up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus 

   analogous luft Waffe bombardiers quash
the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring 
   in step happy jollity, 
   and levity attempt to make light 
   of psychological me's mental illness rash
whence thru the lvii roam min years 

   as chief garbage taster of trash
hurled my way gnome matter 
   gremlins dwelt within the Wabash 
distance to inflict din er of dissonance 
   targeted this mortal for'er abash
as soon as he got expelled from the womb, 
   his reddened ears did bash

from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses 
   into the maternity ward of me late mum sped like dash
her, and fast as a comet Prancer doth emulate 
   a con vixen dancer, cuz ova this rude half 
   re: that came a boot 
   from genetic chromosomal DNA wash.

The Autumnal Winds

Dusty dull autumnal song
with gushes wild as crazy ocean
no knowledge of place you belong
as always found in busy motion.

The clarion at you zenith rung
when maximum things you have misplaced
the song of spring had been said and sung
as it too now, can be seen whole dazed.

When the hushed gleam silently retards
and transparent motion is seized
you then come charioted on your vicious pards
and leave each thing over breezed

New born flowers whom honey dew lulled
and were fostered by its verdant guards
are even exploited with there innocence ruffled
as each petal to the ground retards

You flirt with the dewy dusky cloud
and flatter them to go hand in hand
and then abash proudest of the proud
for mere caprice, on barren land.

You are unseen, yet i can feel
your presence, in mad pursuit like race
of exhausted leaves, you continue to conceal
your transparent presence, but keep your constant pace.

You surge the still being of cloudy chain
as a human of emotions is filled 
then conjure them to blusteringly rain
as eyes over emotioned is rilled.

The aged cedar stand week
in your way wild wind insolent
try resistance, but finally creak
and dies, despite its fortuitous being and constant pant.

Carve me too, to be untamed and fearless
as you are and teach me to relish this universe
guide me on my way and constantly bless
so as, i too can be remembered by my verse.


                                                   AKASH SANGWAN

Premium Member Oddly Gramophone

Day-glo dewy
chuck berry faded daffodils

woodlark fluid warble
emerald chorus

& abash earth
drowsy petrichor 
on 
parched earth

fall mist lyrics 
of 
glyphs thrum 

in sepia tones 
of 
whimpers
& heart hums 
of 
lengthy 
boyhood 
&
haunting echoes
shattered bell's 
agonizing chimes

In shadowy 
kaleidoscope

dystopian swoon
climax is symphonic
&
thunderous melancholy
of 
tearful farewell

remove dust mote
of
gramophone groove 

daily spirit sweep 
clean mental dust
& 
embrace gratitude
& love

life's melody won't die

eclectic idiosyncrasy 
happiness bid 

Written: November 03, 2022
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Thee Grim Reaper As Pedagogical Savior

today, i wanna die and bid god riddance grandly 
   going gamesomely gra grave,  de deum, and cymbal crash
to bing mulct emotionally, physically and spiritually - 
   all the grinding hardships would be gone in aa flash
how tempting to seek ot a solution sans hemlock 
   or other deadly potion, 
   whereby toothless mouth need not gnash
boot simply swallow and drink from the goblet of 
   mortal freedoms renting psych ass under 
   with purposelessness mine hash
tag, which bout with suicide while n the edge of thirteen - 
   anorexia nervosa defeated - 
   then as now experience whip lash
lacerating, flagellating, and repeatedly rousing thoughts 
   to circle back to why death be not proud when life on par with a mash
up of ennui, futile gobbledygook housing incubus 
   analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash
the joie de vivre per je ne sais quois spritely spring 
   in step happy jollity, and levity attempt to make light 
   of psychological me's mental illness rash
whence thru the lvii roam min years as chief garbage taster of trash
hurled my way gnome matter the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash 
distance to inflict din er of dissonance targeted this mortal for'er abash
as soon as he got expelled from the womb, his reddened ears did bash
from sonic screaming boom causing astir the nurses 
   into the maternity ward of me late mum sped like dash
her, and fast as a comet prancer doth emulate 
   a con vixen dancer, cuz ova this rude half 
   re:that came a boot from genetic chromosomal dna wash.
Form:

Word Squirrel

Rodents can be loquacious
That includes your average gerbil
They love to prattle, chat and blather
They really are quite verbal

Hamsters are talkative too
Just as garrulous as can be
With running mouth and wheel to match
They are a sight to see

But I am loath to squander words
Sparing usage is my way
I gather them like so many acorns
Against a rainy day

Yes, word collecting is the passion
Of this precocious squirrel
I garner adjectives, verbs and nouns
Be they singular or plural

The park is fecund land
There a plethora may be found
Vociferous, vehement and vex
I lately scooped up off the ground

The verb tree is prolific
Its discovery quite a boon
The other day it bestowed upon me
Flaunt, foster and festoon

All along the sidewalks
Concrete nouns lie strewn about
How blithely I did snatch up
A lummox, a laggard and a lout

To command a better view
I nimbly scampered up a pole
From this lofty perch I spotted
Wheedle, coax and cajole

Away in the distance
I spied a tempting pile
Heaped up for the taking were
Enticing, alluring and beguile

What do I with so much verbiage?
You would be fair to ask
Squirreling away so vast a lexicon
Must prove a mammoth task

The answer lies in my arboreal abode
Where these many words I stash
In alphabetical order they are arrayed
From zealous to abash

In a capricious mood one day
I grouped them by part of speech
Such a cacophony arose from clustering
Banter, badger and beseech

No matter how I sort them
The wasting of words I spurn
Reserved for rarest use I keep
Reticent, laconic and taciturn!

_________________________________

by Brian McClain - Feb 17, 2016


Originally posted Feb 17, 2016
Accidentally deleted Feb 22, 2016
Reposted Feb 22, 2016
Form: Rhyme

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