Long Argh Poems
Long Argh Poems. Below are the most popular long Argh by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Argh poems by poem length and keyword.
Buried in an avalanche you
might see on "Hoarders buried alive"
back and foreground
white sheet with limited pay per view,
nonetheless sky scraping heap
(Uriah not kid) nsync with a 'U'-
shaped tube anchored securely thru
solid wood - sporting
towering, leaning, bulging, et cetera slew,
sans huge sized mounds,
this goodfella cockily rue
stirs memories while
almond joying sifting,
(comprising ream mains of outdated queue
vee cee paraphernalia, bank statements, old
fair maidens faded letters, phew
against unrequited lovely lasses
kissed by either gentile or Jew
us gal, during young manhood
confession stated, aye did accrue
now (said besmirched Casanova
wannabe across floor I did strew
said, no longer promising princess,
whose once tenderly fresh rose buds
exuded profusely courtesy ingénue
argh..., how frivolous to argue
with cowardly former self, hence
into the maw of das spouse (Sibyl)
she more than enthusiastically
masticates regarding unblossomed
(romantic opportunity) yours truly blew,
when flickr ring spark flame snuffed out
before profound love chanced to hint
of compatibility, ah... nary a blues clue
maybe best not to fantasize
going down nostalgia avenue,
but cast attention upon motley crew,
no matter I traversed
boulevard of broken dreams
(but oh this...pray lemme tell you
more on this cool spring green day)
ornamented with boughs of churrigueresque
mother nature's divinely wrought
sensational beauty procreative forces construe,
yanking fanciful thoughts back to feeding
pulpy material pages of me child's worldview
scribbled squiggly blurred lines
no doubt gifted artistic prodigies shew
did evince talent this papa doth truly value,
yet an excess of near identical curlique
leaves little breathing room, plus report
cards shows innovative smarts,
frequent affirmations this dada paid due
tee, which gushing praise
my girls never taxed for, yet both knew
this aging baby boomer father decries
being swamped with exorbitant clutter
hence effort now made to save whar grew,
some artistic embellishment and/or
intellectual award, the majority hesitantly fed
into jaw of thee missus the human flew
where hard copy quickly incinerated inducing
me to sneeze atchew!
The Batman Movie (a review).
The clues part was cool, but the end of it got boring. I liked that Batman kept a journal - I like the idea of men keeping journals, because, do men have many thoughts they share? Men’s thinking seems so ephemeral.
In this Batman resurrection, Pattinson’s Bruce Wayne & Batman are Kurt-Cobain-like emo and that seemed to work. Didn’t you just want to take your hand and get his hair out of his eyes? I think guys should have hair - I like hair on guys, not buzz cuts. I liked the muscle-car Batmobile.
I liked Zoey Kravitz, she was girl power, but not in a hot girl way, she had her own motivations, she wasn’t just in danger and served up to fuel Batman.
The movie is too long though. They need to bring back movie intermissions - I’d vote for that. As usual, I drank my giant slurpee and ate ½ my popcorn before the twenty minutes of previews were finished.
It’s a three hour movie. I had to pee so bad by the time the movie was ¾ over that I was grinding on my popcorn bucket to keep it in. I finally had to make a dash for the bathroom - I was afraid I’d miss the KISS scene. Argh!
Let’s talk about Robert Pattinson, the actor, and his arch from Twilight to Batman. Of course, doesn’t every vampire turn into a bat? (joke) but it’s always Pattinson being moody, being hot, figuring himself out and the introspective man - the broody man.
Are broody men sexy? I don’t like broody men in real life - I feel that only one of us gets to be moody in a relationship - and it’s going to be me. Pattinson seems almost zany and cheeky in RL so the brood is his method act. I Like that Pattinson didn’t buff-up for the role - I think the buffed-up muscle-man as superhero perfection somehow relates to capitalism. Pattinson’s American accent was good.
What was missing from the movie was horniness. Batman didn’t seem HOT for Cat-girl - he just stood there for her to kiss. What’s boy-girl attraction if it’s not horniness? Where has the horniness gone in movies? Sexiness is missing from ALL the superhero movies - I guess the age demo is too young.
I give it three out of five stars
Oh! How he sauntered like a lord with his flaunt
The bluster and strut so nonchalant
The swank and sway blew me away
And swept me under the table like child's play!
My! His handsome style
His arrogant modesty was no denial
He beamed as he jilted so tauntingly
Every female around was flibberty-jibberty
Cursed! As he grabbed my eye balls out of their sockets
My heart in my throat-my stomach an empty pocket
While his prance in tight pants made me dance
Wishing for one real bona fide chance
So! Afraid of the outcome of dealing with this situation
Argh! "Get em up scout!" I'm cutting out
My courage is fading to total damnation
By this spellbound swagger sensational "knockout"!!
Upon (die) re rhea ding previous poem
All In The Name Of "Progress" zen
a glaring, leering,
and twittering left par wren
dared to a right (i.e. bribe)
corrective punctuation measure
slyly slipping Special Ops symbol ")"
for so many yen,
thus see slipped thru my excellent
proof reading, when
lo and behold consternation,
inconsideration, and perturbation
I thought to take a page
from playbook of Sylvia Plath,
and stick my head in the oven
but lo, a sardine recipe
(though a bit fishy),
could be found necessitating cauldron
only available for purchase in Turin
thus donned with a shrouded cape,
aye didst make whoosh,
hence, went there and came back
and frankly tubby earnest,
thence began stir'n
a bubbling concoction brew
though duration for perfect consistency
aye lacked any clue
thus, needed to contact
Hannibal the cannibal
asper what to do
in order (I explained)
to sever livingsocial,
and forever hang my head in shame
cuz, accidentally omitting
one right parenthesis too few
hence, esteemed flawless glory,
(sans error free grammarian
reputation pitched downward
where careless evinced
Kamikaze nosedive, where
matter of fact gross humiliation
instantaneously grew
and the only viable option
forced me to hew
admitting to egregious, fatuous, abhorent
and readily confesses
compunction viz, grievously
blatant Anglo Saxon
Horrifying transgression
involving backward curved "C" sin bent
a most execrable,
incorrigible, and unforgivable
literary faux pas incurring
major cosmic event
stripped of title special
Das Scribe double bubble "A" gent!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Upon complying never to err again
Matthew Scott Harris since
accepted plea bargain
accepting sentence resting his chin
til indelible necklaced "U" lettered grin
forever visible to kith and kin.
Birds used to be dinosaurs
humans used to be monkeys
things are moving fast
The world’s conspiring to endow me with agency.
Are we sure this is the right decision?
They have us in dissections and anatomy labs,
microscopy in histology and simulations in clinical skills.
Professors are saying things like,
“in preparation for your hospital rotations.”
Shut up! Stop this runaway train. Seriously, slow down.
Here’s a peek inside my brain - a typical med-school weekday:
5am wake, coffee, organize my bookbag.
5:30-6:45 jog (with my escort Charles)
6:45-7:10 a shower and stuff
7:10-7:30 breakfast, toast with coffee
7:30-8:00 homework review with coffee
8:00-8:30 commute with coffee (maybe write a poem?)
8:30 AM to 5–6 PM, classes, blending lectures, small-group sessions, tutorial and practical labs and self-study.
6:30 Arrive back home, disheveled, for 1 hour of study with coffee, a shower and stuff (maybe write a poem?).
8pm dinner and coffee
8:30-11:30 ‘Méthode des J’ (recall injection studies) and coffee
Rinse and repeat, Monday through Thursday. Forgive the data dump, but I’ve been asked
My watch is so judgemental
It’s been giving me low sleep scores (low 40s).
I fall asleep quickly and sleep softly until..
Argh!! Who set that f-ing alarm?
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Songs for this:
One Two Three - Hooverphonic
Chain Gang by the pretenders
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 01/22/26:
disheveled not neat or tidy.
I heard the door open. It was Leeza (Lisa’s 14-year-old sister),
she’d been out on a date. I was the only one in the living room
as she came in and sagged, dejectedly onto the huge, white
sectional couch, right next to me. She looked positively
deflated. Which is unusual because up until now,
she’s been all freckles and smiles
Ok, here’s where we get poetic and rhyme, with innuendo and allusion:
Me: “Did you have a good time?”
Leeza: “No but I was trying.”
Me: “Did he get handsy—the swine?”
Leeza: “Argh! No—but his kisses are a crime.”
I gasped: “You didn’t give him a climb!?”
Leeza “NO!” she said, somewhat horrified.
Me (trying to be neutral): “No judging, it would have been.. fine (I lied).”
Leeza: “That’s never going to happen.”
“Good,” I declared, “he was just a distraction—and, you know Santa.”
“What about Santa?”
Whew, that’s enough of THAT (rhyming business).
She asked, so, yeah, I sang it.. I had to.
“He knows who you’ve been kissing,
what you’re thinking when you’re awake,
he knows if you’ve been bad or good—
he’s kind of like a cop that way.”
After a moment's silence Leeza asked,
“Is there something creepy about that?”
“Only if you think about it.” I admitted,
as she put her head on my shoulder.
.
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A song for this:
Fairytale of New York (feat. Kirsty MacColl) by The Pogues
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A Christmas Playlist! There’s 6 days til Christmas (and Hanukkah)
www.daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_25.mp3
Panegyric praising phantasmagoric, albeit...
unseen prophets providing perspicuity...,
Who commune with yours truly
within state of mind between
sleep and wakefulness
methinks disembodied spirits
infiltrate mine consciousness
while suspended within trance.
Meditation invokes light hypnosis
gently beckoning me to surrender self
fearlessness disappears relinquishing
clutched grip upon ethereal essence
without substance, I wonder
how emotions, ideas, longings...
can weigh so oppressively
as if such elusive thought processes
(however they become manifest
spontaneously crowdsourcing then...
just as quickly re: blink of eye
irretrievably lost in space (mind)
farther than outer limits of twilight zone
realizing futility to conjure them back
synonymous when this (hymn) mortal
male i.e. contemplative,
intuitive, ruminative...
nonetheless unable to recall revelatory
insight...,and/or when steeped deeply
within sleep (ah...such dynamic,
magnificent, vivid...dreams) more so
pronounced since relying to function
almost half dozen medications
(to mitigate predisposition wrought
courtesy of anxiety,
ocd, panic attacks..),
yet upon opening
(even without disruption)
access to such excellent
personal profundity...slightly biased
denied, analogous to
steel door shutting tight
with nary an iota remembered
to self interpret what subconscious
exposure means, a motherlode
rich with material
to write poetry or prose
tis quite bothersome
this sudden disappearance
evocations vanishes without a trace
aware no intense concentration
will jog abundant cerebral activity
forever out of reach
Argh...such evocative manifestations
serve as private cable channel
obvious drawback reruns
cannot be rebroadcast
aware (of course) nobody boot me
agog with exhilaration,
fascination, galvanization...
to plumb depths into world
I will never fathom
further than 20,000
leagues under the sea.
Prior To Commencing Poem, I Dreamt Contretemps Escalating fusillade...
Galvanized hotheaded idealists (jaded
locals - kindled moderates) nursed
oppressive proletarian quavering riot
spearheading triumphant utopian voice...
whether contrived right here and now,
or purportedly fragmented remnant
occuring during REM sleep
beside the point, asper conjuring atypical
bent arising within mindscape,
sans garden variety *****sapien.
he laments instantaneously forgetting
intricate webbed tapestry comprising
unconscious manifestations nearly every time
reluctantly opening eyes,
whereat realistic landscape within noggin
vanishes without any trace
try as I might to induce recall
asper impressive world within
hydroelectric powered illusory windmills,
despite non cacophonous disruption
i.e. natural awakening processes,
yet for the life of me
after effect bruited
within entire body electric,
hence envisions some contrivance
mebbe mental construct
prior to awakening
to captcha essential details.
Ah...mother lode of ore ridge and hill
elusive material could perhaps yield
adequate money order to pay one bill
alleviating penurious state, so I can chill
without succumbing L'chaim going downhill
fast, especially since monthly social security
taken in toto with more'n
one bitter medication prescription pill
(father's little helper) eases panic/anxiety attacks
plaguing yours truly since...reciting
storybook rhyme 'bout Jack and Jill
argh, how an overdose quite tempting
escaping once and for all where little doth fulfill
me, cuz thankfully individual choice of freewill,
not banned by pro life fanatics,
imagining to wrest free millstone
formerly revolutionary war gristmill
sitting idle (billy me) bidding one final goodwill
to deux daring daughters,
ditto same number twisted sisters mentally ill
papa and bro respectively
understandably justifiably, emotionally deserted
detached baby boomer whole existence a standstill
overly cautious livingsocial,
what...repeating mundanity till...
death, a tragi/comic relief.
It’s the morning of a different day—who knew there’d be another?
Lisa and I went on our harbor jog @ 5am—that’s nothing new.
It was, like 44°—we’re enjoying fall’s cold, refreshing bite.
Anyway, my mind wasn’t on it and I nearly stumbled over
a chunk of dark, uneven roadway, made invisible by its function.
Charles, jogging beside me, wordlessly managed to right me
without us losing a step and I smiled my thanks.
argh! I’ve got to get out of my head.
Later, in class, lulled by the comfort of the stiff, wooden chair, my eyes unfocused and the professor’s voice seemed to fade into the backdrop. Suddenly, he was asking me a direct question that seemed almost without context.
Metaphorically slapped back into focus, I scanned the room and the whiteboard for clues before awkwardly—walking the edge of catastrophe—I bluffed it out, because, well, I’ve an instinctive reluctance to admit defeat with any sort of grace.
I didn’t sleep well last night. I had dreams—nothing with a defined purpose–just an amalgamate of bonfires and storms in a coastal scrubland with an odor of fresh cedar and a sense of casual vulnerability.
My attention today is like an intermittent pulse.
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Songs for this:
Headz Gone West by Nia Archives
Dark Red by Steve Lacy
Eric, how’s it been? It’s been a while since
ye last I seen. Have you been on the acid?
Or, have you been mean? Well, the truth
will flourish and it’ll then be seen.
Now then John, how’s thi sen? I saw you in
the store for the spring weekend. Did they
come in droves to pay for you? Or, did they
opt for the lesser number two?
Now then Eric, no need for that! Just
remember with me Pete’s free and all that!
Well I’ll tell thi’ this me old chum, me old
mate. When they get tucked up with me
they react just great!
Argh...but they got bloody potty for me!
They love the feel of me in their hands -
I’m like crushed cake you see.
Well, here we are number twenty five.
It doesn’t look too bad, the garden looked
full of pride.
It looks as though it’ll be alright in here.
They’re gonna mix us up 50/50 I hear.
Well, you can’t argue with that. The
rhododendrons will welcome us in and
we’ll see the summer out. Well, until
we’re free again, I’ll say this to you
John innes my old friend.
I hope you have many long summer
days, I hope you’ll be a rest for the
bees and the peacock butterflies will
stop long enough for you to gaze.
And to you Eric-Aceous, my comrade
and my friend, let’s enjoy the spring
and summer days before they come to
an end. Let’s do what we do best and
make the blooms deep and large. For
they all need their gardens this year
now Covid 19’s at large.