Long Accent Poems
Long Accent Poems. Below are the most popular long Accent by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Accent poems by poem length and keyword.
Mosque cowed covenant I keep Putin off...
and withheld broadcasting
the following communication
tucked away these many years,
when president number forty five
donned, jump/kick started, and tweeted
thru his musky, albeit flabby mantle,
a rallying cry forewarning onset of Mag(m)a
bubbling, gurgling, lobbing, and spewing lava
against backdrop of his trumpeting vitriolic
political preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation tomb mike -
(make) pence sieve lee clear,
the immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans incendiary fold
drawl (folderol) feigning migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting older than Methuselah),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
adorned, donned with (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent - bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists
to flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will laughably petrify
any vigilantes dead cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies scantily
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
gobbledygook communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how I plan to hold
world web electronically hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark wide whirled web
cryptocurrency bitcoin blockchain trolled
under auspices, sans
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten free CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily monitoring
meant to fortify electronic threads
woven into a virtual tapestry
likened to Dickensian chain e-mail
intent to foment pandemonium
at expense to captcha totalitarianism,
whereby democracy imperiled.
Carmena was born in Bolivia
but left that place at seventeen,
after three years of waiting for the chance
to live out an American dream.
When her folks finally got their green cards
they moved up into old Santa Fe,
Carmena finished out her high school years
picking up on all American ways.
She’d known some English before she had come,
but her vocab expanded real quick,
immersed in the tongue every day
her accent softened and became less thick.
This helped a lot in her father’s new shop,
he bought a gas station in a franchise,
Carmena waited on all walks of life,
and the experience opened her eyes.
She’d chat with truckers and travelers
from all over the fifty great states,
lefty Californians, southern good-ol’ boys,
northern Yankees and Texans hauling steaks.
Mid-westerners who were so crazy nice,
New Yorkers who always sounded pissed off,
good-natured rednecks looking for more beer,
even some Yoopers with their funny talk.
Learned more of her new home on that roadside
then she did in any public school,
what would divide and what would unite,
but the one thing that really stuck her as cool
was that Americans, the better ones,
made everything subservient to choice.
Culture and skin, ethnicity and faith,
you had the freedom to ignore and avoid.
These facts struck her as how things should be,
had not every person a claim to these rights?
Here force of law was meant to make free
people to be the driving force in their lives.
And best of all, she heard all sides of things,
good for thought, both the grease and gourmet,
when seven years passed, and she took that oath,
she became American in so many ways.
But then something happened she didn’t expect,
it came about in an election year,
talking with her friend Sue about the vote
she was greeted with anger and fear.
Carmena was confused,"Why the harsh look?
I was just sharing the thoughts on my mind.
I believe in gun rights, and low taxes,
My father’s shop has been having a time—”
Sue interrupted,”Do you hate yourself?!
Don’t you know that you’re a Hispanic?
You’re betraying your own kind, voting this way,
colored people should vote Democratic!”
Carmena was stunned, struggled to reply,
“But I see nothing good in their beliefs.”
Sue just fumed,”You’re a damn race-traitor,
or brain-washed by fascist enemies!”
CONCLUDES IN PART II
In youthful exuberance I become a culture bandit
Well exposed, but never really learning.
Modernity taking a toll as Papa and Ante chased the goods
For my sake they said... No mistakes... deed was good
Nanny TV with her bright inviting light
My imagination on wide escapades around the world
And farther altering my personality by giving me languages, dress codes, and even an accent.
So I stole, other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere or so I thought.
And Yet
In all my juvenile delinquency I could never, tell an adult to his face you are wrong
Revering old age; what is that, where is that from?
In my Success in Corporate with policy of first names and no regard for age but ability and brain
I could never bring myself to say Pat.
Aunty Pat can you please email the document to me
Wait, what? Am I not her boss.
So I stole…. Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere, Or so I thought.
Drawn to the immaculate white of that gown
Instinctively I top it off with a colorful Kente Scarf?
The height I can rock in these 6 inch heels
but how Royal the Ahenema slippers makes me feel
This perfect perfect pony will do well with…. no not pearls or sapphire;
Animal bone necklace and earrings
Oh how perfect my manicure will be accessorized with these….no not diamonds
Bamboo bangles
I will wear the jeans, But only with that tank top with Adinkra symbols
So I stole… other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere… or so I thought.
My true culture grasping at my core
As I gasped, when that little boy called his father’s friend Larry
When He picked the carrot stick with his left hand from the bowl serving the community I died
Though it didn’t make sense because as a right handed person I would say my left hand is as clean as dried
I smiled brightly when that couple spoke Twi, while we waited for the A- train on the subway
My Culturally biased heart coveting a conversation
So I stole, Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere
A cultural bandit … infused with other cultures… blending in well, or so I thought.
Without need of Affirmation, I have Ghanaian blood flowing through my veins
I know the voice of my people, the beautiful colour
Of the soul that makes a Ghanaian.
In the mother land or not. Ghana comes with us.
From generation to generation Ghana is us
Perfect Culture Chameleons
We fit right in
Ghana is our heritage.
In youthful exuberance I become a culture bandit
Well exposed, but never really learning.
Modernity taking a toll as Papa and Ante chased the goods
For my sake they said... No mistakes... deed was good
Nanny TV with her bright inviting light
My imagination on wide escapades around the world
And farther altering my personality by giving me languages, dress codes, and even an accent.
So I stole, other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere or so I thought.
And Yet
In all my juvenile delinquency I could never, tell an adult to his face you are wrong
Revering old age; what is that, where is that from?
In my Success in Corporate with policy of first names and no regard for age but ability and brain
I could never bring myself to say Pat.
Aunty Pat can you please email the document to me
Wait, what? Am I not her boss.
So I stole…. Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere, Or so I thought.
Drawn to the immaculate white of that gown
Instinctively I top it off with a colorful Kente Scarf?
The height I can rock in these 6 inch heels
but how Royal the Ahenema slippers makes me feel
This perfect perfect pony will do well with…. no not pearls or sapphire;
Animal bone necklace and earrings
Oh how perfect my manicure will be accessorized with these….no not diamonds
Bamboo bangles
I will wear the jeans, But only with that tank top with Adinkra symbols
So I stole… other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere… or so I thought.
My true culture grasping at my core
As I gasped, when that little boy called his father’s friend Larry
When He picked the carrot stick with his left hand from the bowl serving the community I died
Though it didn’t make sense because as a right handed person I would say my left hand is as clean as dried
I smiled brightly when that couple spoke Twi, while we waited for the A- train on the subway
My Culturally biased heart coveting a conversation
So I stole, Other cultures infused, fitting in everywhere
A cultural bandit … infused with other cultures… blending in well, or so I thought.
Without need of Affirmation, I have Ghanaian blood flowing through my veins
I know the voice of my people, the beautiful colour
Of the soul that makes a Ghanaian.
In the mother land or not. Ghana comes with us.
From generation to generation Ghana is us
Perfect Culture Chameleons
We fit right in
Ghana is our heritage.
I woke up at the break of dawn,
with the feeling that all hope is gone,
I was not sure where to begin,
but I was determined to win.
No dazzling stars,
no visible moonlight,
no chirping birds,
to tease my empty words.
I walked through the door with a subtle grin,
nursing bruises all over my skin.
I tried to escape yesterday’s punishment,
and saturate my mind with hope and fulfillment.
Walking down the dark empty street,
a cab stopped exactly at my feet,
I hired him to take me to the mountains,
to breath out the stagnant air
and repair my body’s wear and tear.
His grouchy voice thundered through my ears,
he spoke with a strange accent that I could hardly hear,
It passes through one ear, and suddenly disappears.
We journeyed through sleeping towns,
they stared at us without a sound,
steep hills and rocky path,
bending streets and winding roads
dumping my burdensome loads.
He made a sudden turn,
and I felt a sensational yearn
spilling over in my soul.
Mother nature bursts from the horizon
and filled my heart with glad tidings.
Layers of mountains blink at me,
taking me up and down the gigantic tree
guiding me to my unseen dreams,
while patches of green and sun burnt grass
prepare the city for the morning mass.
I saw her bursting through the thick grey clouds,
and I stopped the car and spoke to her aloud,
I climb on top of a nearby rock,
and reached towards her and interlock.
I was just in time for the meeting,
Oh how my soul yearns for this healing.
Mother nature looked at me with a grin
she shook my hand,
and said, “where shall we begin?”
I lamented the troubles of my piercing heart,
and requested for a balance start.
What took you so long?
I know that you have been hurting all along,
and I have been waiting for you to prove them wrong.
“Worry no more,
I am going to fulfill the desires of your burning soul,
look around and tell me what you see,
observe carefully and you will agree.
Let me ignite your body and soul,
and sooth the sorrows that you bore,
sleepless nights,
daily fights,
unfair treatment,
and treacherous lies.
The meeting came to an end,
and I felt free again,
the peshmerga drove up the steep hill
and greeted me with goodwill
Dawn fully broke out into broad day light,
and filled my soul with joy and delight.
©2013 Christine Phillips
To my dearest dear…
Am going through a very bad phase
Loads of works and above all business targets,
Once you came to my thought
And out of all yips, I smiled back for a second
Those flicks with you often n often.
It had been days…
And a movie without you is such a draggy em.
My friend writing for you today…
just to hear from you
Have you ever missed me the way I miss you every day!!!
I turned back my pages and a recap from those French classes
It all began when I shared with you few notes and trifle tattles
Best of you three and among you were bit different
Yet once a time to one I was coquettishly attracted.
Befell with usual conversations and sometimes a walk down to the back gate
A smile shared with wonted hi n hello
And an eye to eye abut during the morning break
Day by day and months later we met up at the orkut network.
First few chats pass on with formal gabs
And later I came up with those fiddling craps.
My usual put-ons and your internet slangs
Still reminds me how I use to share with you
Talks about music and movie blabs.
Washed-out few memories, I wonder how I came in touch with you regularly
Familiarity build up and I started to intimate you.
I saw a friend in you and I saw eternality in you
I felt your accent and I felt how much I miss you.
The Nandan erred foreign flicks and lavishly spent at south city
Few snacks and secret fags on our way,
An overnight fuddle…
I just smiled with you all the way.
I wondered your love toward pets
And I wondered your routine aperiodic,
I esteemed your didacticism
And I esteemed your sensation,
I pray at your benevolence
And I wish for your love always be your existence.
Dear Friend! Today I miss you more,
And I wish you to be here
Your presence will give me a blissful core.
I miss you and I will be missing you,
But promise me before you leave
I just want to sit and recollect all those memories with you.
Through my words and through this letter,
I penned you forever n ever
If ever you need me you’ll always find me near.
I wish you a life with smiles and cheers
Just hit me if ever you are invited with undesired tears.
It’s now to say goodbye
Hope to see you soon and hear from you, A reply!!
Till then…take care n bu bye
Yours forever…longed amigo.
(Note: This poem is dedicated to one of my closest friend Shaoni Mukhopadhyay)
Should Be Done
If you want to have much fun
Here is what should be done
If you data used is empirical
Write some sounding satirical.
So much for my rhyming. Now
for my formidable blank verse
format.
What should Democratic party do.
They should start having a daily
presentation of negative Trump
ads every day of his existence
while he is in the White House.
Show the Gold Star Family,
handicapped person made fun of
and women grabbed by crotch
as examples of what I mean.
Trump doesn't mind tweeting
out negative comments about
anyone else. He needs to start
receiving some of his own medicine.
What you give out is what you
are supposed to receive back.
If you criticize, condemn and
complain, you should receive
the very same thing in return.
His favorability rating for being
President is at an all time low.
He deserves it and has done
exactly everything to earn it.
As usual, America will have to
suffer from all of his stupidity.
He thinks that all he has to do
is waving his magic wand and
every thing will fit in place in
his staff and support system.
Was it Martin Luther King who
said only fools dream on not
taking any action. Trump is
truly a man of action riling
up everyone.
God is supposed to be saving
the Queen and our new President.
Sure hope we can trust Him to save
the rest of America as well. Some
may be saving for a rainy day but
what about the good ones we all
prefer to have? They may have
disappeared with Trump and are
beyond all recognition. We sure
do hope not How about you?
Can you no longer find any of
them either. Search to your
heart's content> You have
Trump supporters to thank for
putting him to office. Don't
blame me for the pit we are
about to fall into. I would
not have hired a medic to
do my open heart surgery.
That is what you did when
you elected Trump. In America,
we have the freedom to express
our own opinions regardless of
what criticism we may receive.
As far as I am concerned, the
same thing also applies to
Poetry Soup. We have a lot
of great poets who currently
exist within Poetry Soup. My
last thing I have to say and
write is, "God Bless You'll."
Sorry my Southern accent
got in the way.
James Serious Mysterious and
also Thesarious Hilarious Horn
as applicable depending on the
occasion I am writing poem about.
11/4/1991, KENOSHA, WI – Police say a man wearing a fake goatee burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you wearing a fake goatee?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not a goatee, it’s a van dyke,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
12/9/1996, IMPERIAL BEACH, CA – Police say a man in a Buster Keeton mask burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you wearing a Buster Keeton mask?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not Buster Keeton. It’s Buster Crabbe,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
6/26/1998, ODESSA, Texas – Police say a man affecting a Spanish accent burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you affecting a Spanish accent?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not Spanish. It’s Catalan,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
11/25/2006, SHREVEPORT, LA – Police say a man wearing a Mitt Romney campaign button burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you wearing a Mitt Romney campaign button?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not a campaign button. It’s flair,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
3/6/2007, SEATTLE, WA – Police say a man wearing a satin vest burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you wearing a satin vest?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not satin. It’s velour,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
2/12/2008, VIENNA, MO – Police say a person dressed in a nun’s habit burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you dressed in a nun’s habit?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not a habit. It’s a vocation,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
6/18/2009, MARLTON, NJ – Police say a person riding a scooter chair burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you riding a scooter chair?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not a scooter chair. It’s a civil right,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
3/27/2010, KING of PRUSSIA, PA – Police say a person holding a bottle of urine burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you holding a bottle of urine?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not urine. It’s mine,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
Somewhere in her white house
There was a gray future spouse
Looking for cheese
Doing as he please
Enchanting accent came from the mouth
A drawing sound noting the south
Filled with luring charm
Made a home by telling many a yarn
Living in a guest quarter
Which he could barely afford her
Making his ways through academic halls
Everyone studying engravings on the walls
Defending peaceful thoughts interacting throughout student’s mall
Coming to a relaxing place
Seeing Carolina’s face
“They are making their case”
The blue angel said
About the reason she should not wed
And take a lifelong committed man into her first bed
“We have a right
During our fight
To cross our stripes
Challenging city slicker’s type
Slanting our color navy being no fool
While having a civil feud”
Wanting a comfort shot he stood calm
Listening to reality going on
This was love not a raunchy affair
Where revenge was the dare
“We made an X for a reason
It was not an ax that was treason
Wanting out of the union
Northerner’s knew not what they were doing
Money here money there
We belles had land everywhere”
Now this fellow
Understood his bride’s bellow
And wanted a few minutes to mellow
“Look at the sun
It is almost done
Orange skies
You are marrying a beautiful guy
I am a gamecock
Early morning riser with nice stock
While you are a Tar Heel
When hearts were a major steal
Our relationship is very real
Friends and family will watch us seal
This romantic deal
Then enjoy a joyful meal”
Hearing his soothing voice
She knew he was the proper choice
“Our United States is at war
Diplomatic rhetoric acting out having the stage floor
Rotten as a big apple at the core”
Honest feelings had truth
Questionable just like the Yankee spectacle Babe Ruth
“Remember when physical interaction was deemed a sin
Gossip talking where the two have been
After our vows and we are alone
Shutting off all Ma Bell phones
I will state to only you
Never will we be through”
Below the Mason Dixon line
Where others are treated very kind
Moon reminded them where they met
No longer was the daylight set
Darkness figured out this was the perfect get
Lunar glare smiling watching the innocent talk
Hoping they will be happy after the matrimony walk
This autumn morning with the birds waking up
and the leaves changing is Election Day. I meet
Jane Trichter on the downtown train and discuss
Henry's upset. Her skin is soft especially her cheeks
and she is intelligent and sensitive. The subway riders
do not recognize their representative.
All week, at the office, I accomplish nothing substantive
but keep the aides and interns working
and cheerful. On Tuesdays there is always a wave
of constituent complaints, by telephone. One woman's
Volkswagon is towed and the police break in
to get it out of gear. Do they have that right,
can they tow even though no sign said Tow Away Zone?
It is an interesting question but I try to avoid
answering it. The woman persists and succeeds
in committing me.
The people at the office want to bomb Iran. A few Americans
held hostage and therefore many innocent women and children
pay the postage. It may be good classical logic to hold responsible
the whole society for the acts of a few, however, then
I must begin to expect the bomb and the white cloud that waits.
Apocalyptic visions are popular again
but we are more likely to thrash the earth to within an inch of its life
than scorch it to charred rock.
Corner of Church and Chambers,
German tourist's language, accent repels me
although I wasn't alive 45 years ago
and many sweet, great Germans opposed the crazy Nazis
but lately I've read Primo Levi's If Not Now, When?,
seen William Holden in "The Counterfeit Traitor",
have followed the argument started by revisionists
who say the Nazi atrocities never happened.
War brought many shopkeepers, bookkeepers close to their earth,
weather, seasons, death.
I see daily life as low-intensity warfare
as my father, the World War II vet, did.
Off to work we go. What is war?
Population control, mother of invention, diversion
from the work of making life permanent.
Today is Election Day and because it's a day off
for most municipal employees, the City Hall area
has been quiet and easy to work in. Henry and Jane
hold a press conference on teenage alcoholism.
Leslie, the other aide, who I'd like to draw
the stockings and clothes off of and feel her whole body
with mine, goes home with her mother, leaving me
standing by my desk with my briefcase at the end
of Election Day.