Long Arrogant Poems
Long Arrogant Poems. Below are the most popular long Arrogant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Arrogant poems by poem length and keyword.
Mr. Spider is an ugly looking creature. He has a hairy face and arms. However, the hairs on the top of his head are somewhat thinner than those on his face, and scattered all over here and there. His hairs looked dark, rough, and stiff, but those hairs in his beard, which covered on his broad and flat face, were grayish white. Mr. Spider has a pair of sharply pointed claws on the end of his thin clumsy-looking finger. Moreover, he has hiding his sharp and crooked teeth behind his bushy beard. His two big, dark, and atrocious eyes never blink or move but fixed on one spot from behind the shadow where he was squatting down.
Ms Butterfly is an elegant high socialite. She always wears the colorful robe. She glides and dances in the air as if she were a piece of gorgeous floating corolla. She didn’t eat any solid food. She flies in the air and stops on one flower bloom to the other for delicacy of sweet nectar. She enjoys it, for it keeps her in good shape and enables her to maintain her coquettish figure forever. Ms Butterfly, however,
is an arrogant and selfish lady. She never considers the feeling of the others. She acted only for her own good, yet she was a just simple lady.
It was a sunny afternoon in early spring when Mr. Spider caught Ms Butterfly in his cobweb. When Mr. Spider saw her in his cobweb, he didn’t wait a moment. He dashed toward his prisoner. However, when he came close enough to grab her with his hands, he refrained from catching her, because he saw her helpless slender body trembling in the gorgeous robe, and her beautiful but fearful eyes, asking him
for mercy.
Since then, Mr. Spider has never left his cobweb. With his fascinating eyes, he has followed and stared at elegant Ms Butterfly from a distance, while comparing his ugliness with a gargoyle and thinking of his cursed life, as if he were Quasimodo on the bell tower of Notre-Dam, watching and admiring tenderhearted, naïve, and lonely Esmeralda.
[Although Ms Butterfly was not deserve for Mr. Spider’s pure and wholehearted admiration because of her frivolous, flighty, and insincere personality.]
What’s really going on during this “Shutdown?”
Well, this is an idea of what is possibly going on.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Who is Humpty Dumpty? (It begins with T and rhymes with Dump. Now put them together and you get Dump T…)
Lil Jack Horner sat in a corner (Waiting on the Epstein files to be released)
Jack and Jill went up the hill (Capital Hill to protest)
Lil Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet (Minding her business)
Hickory Dickory Dock, the mouse ran up the clock (Time is ticking. When will this shutdown end?)
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jumped over the candlestick (You gotta be quick to avoid deportation)
Lil Sally Walker sitting in a saucer (Filing for unemployment)
This Lil Piggy went to the market (But the high cost of groceries sent her right back home)
Mary, Mary quite contrary (Yall already know who is the most arrogant, contrary, male version of Mary)
Lil Bo Peep lost her sheep (And her job due to mass firings related to this government shutdown)
Wee Willie Winkle runs through the town (Running away from ICE)
There was an old lady who lived in a shoe (Because affordable housing is not so affordable)
The wheels on the bus goes round and round (Just like this government with all the finger pointing and name blaming)
A sailor went to sea, sea, sea (Away from the Ugly BBB)
London Bridge is falling down (This country)
Rock-a-bye baby on a tree top (Poor baby, just trying to sleep in peace)
Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard (And because her snap benefits were cut, it was bare)
Hush lil baby, don’t say a word (Sounds like a Republican)
If you happy and you know it clap your hands (Don’t think nobody clapping right about now)
It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring (That old man tired, he been so stressed worrying about his social security benefits)
Take me out to the ball game (For a much needed distraction from all this chaos and dysfunction), I’m over it!
YOU are the almighty Creator…
thus, world without You can’t possibly exist
earth doesn’t have any essence
void of sheer worthlessness surely prevails.
YOU are the compassionate Redeemer…
thus, world without You revolves around selfishness
love becomes narcissistic marked with arrogant altruism
volunteerism with reaching-out pursuits is a matter of show.
YOU are the sovereign King of kings…
thus, world without You is fatally chaotic
survival-angst grips the competitive
control loss anchors disarray toward misery’s turmoil.
YOU are the Sufficiency of my life…
thus, world without You, my LORD GOD, is tantamount to eternal death
cognizant that You’re my breath’s Source, faith’s strength, and soul Saviour
indeed, without You, I’m nothing.
YOU are my gracious Father and Friend…
thus, world without You is unimaginably frightening and perilous
since You’re the Giver of peace along blessings’ abundance
steadfast Sustainer of everlasting relationship freely offered with Your love.
YOU are the Great “I AM” You really are…
You deserve all the glory* and praise
thus, here am I with my grateful, worship-filled heart
triumphantly exalting You, yielding my all to You … my very world.
*1Chronicles 29:11 Thine, O LORD, is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty: for all that is in the heaven and in the earth is thine; thine is the kingdom, O LORD, and thou art exalted as head above all.
May 30, 2020
1st place, "A World Without You" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by JCB Burl; judged on 5/31/2020.
Thirty Something Alchemy
Are some of us beyond those years?
Days of having children, spouses,
working, and lovers quarrels and tears.
Nights of staying out till three am at a
party!
When arrogant you flashed your wits
~ such a big smarty!
Days and nights when you were able
to eat anything at all.
And you loved showing off "you" at
the shining ball, dance hall?
This poetess spent her Chicago days and
nights like this.
Filled with camaraderie, dances and
yes something very unique, that
much awaited for good night kiss.
All vanished now in a dreamlike cloud.
But the beat goes on within in her!
After all, she is hardly wearing a
shroud!
Wondering if there are other poets
like her, who dream of such?
And just for one day, just maybe...
Have just a taste of their past's most
magical touch?
5/20/2019
10:30am PST
So very blessed that you were born!
Each morning so sweetly, I do awake.
To know I have a grown daughter unlike no other.
We are more like sisters now, each enjoy having fun.
I can say anything to you and the same way round.
You are indeed, the most beautiful woman in town.
Fearless, compassionate, you won't take nonsense lying down.
You are patient as can be with a silly Mom, like me.
I just love you so and I know you see.
So does the City Council, who heeds your words in support of the
love of this awesome country.
You, who sees to it, that America is kept free!
Far from selfish or arrogant, you do not make others wrong.
So you can see why you are~your Mother's dearest song.
You have friends all across California and this great nation.
Who have kept America, a whole, shining, sane, sensation!
Others may at our nation joke, tittter and laugh.
You surpass them with your love and humble class.
A poetess, no,, indeed that you are not!
You have other ambitions, that is your gifted lot.
To be of astonishing service to all of humanity.
You are the blessed gift, that God has given me.
You have raised a son, talented and bright.
He carries the beauty of your spiritual soul light!
Love,
Mommy
Dedicated to: Maria
From: Her grateful Mother.
11-2- 2020
A shadow walks through open doors,
A storm that shakes the wooden floors.
With sharp-edged words and arrogant pride,
She pushes every hand aside.
No counsel takes, no wisdom hears,
She turns to rage and fuels our fears,
One moment high, the next in spite,
A shifting wind that blocks the light.
She yells until the rafters strain,
And leaves a trail of quiet pain.
A simple word, a calm address,
Devolves to anger and distress.
And when the truth is drawing near,
She turns away and will not hear;
She packs her grievance, walks the floor,
And slams behind another door.
With heavy drinks to numb the day,
She smokes the drifting hours away,
Lost in a haze of smoke and glass,
She lets the warnings blindly pass.
No cap or gown, no turned degree,
She walked away from what could be.
Yet demands the purse by hook or crook,
To take whatever comfort took.
She cannot stand or live alone,
Or build a kingdom of her own,
But leans upon the hands she breaks,
And counts the silver that she takes.
Three tender souls she brought to life,
Amidst the chaos and the strife,
Whose rooms were kept, whose bread was won,
By fading hands, from sun to sun.
While she pursued a passing night,
And chased the fleeting, false delight,
Forgetting vows and breaking trust,
To leave her home in settling dust.
The door remains, the kitchen cold,
The stories tragic and untold.
A daughter shaped of storm and stone,
Who leaves her savers all alone.
Three knocks upon the door – who goes there?
It is I, your heart!
Oh, well, I didn’t expect you back so soon …
But come, take a seat, warm yourself by the fire.
God knows it is frigid beyond these walls.
The heart clasps cold hands before the flame,
And looks at me with guilty eye –
I didn’t mean to intrude upon you yet again;
I thought this time might be different, but –
Hush now! I know it is a dream so sweet,
But within these walls you have oft stayed,
And you can be safe; kick up your feet,
My friend. Tis somewhat bitter to have you back
Beneath my control.
Yet … it has oft been this way, and there is comfort in that.
A savage pleasure, an arrogant sneer, a cloying power.
You are mine – not hers – you understand?
And a tear falls from his guilty eye, but he does not move away.
15 October 2019
Written for "Give Me Your Best New Poem" contest sponsored by Emile Pinet
This is the house built “right”.
This is the greed bred in the seed
of the foundation of the house built “right”.
This is the arrogant and pervasively resonant
that's born of the greed bred in the seed
of the foundation of the house built “right”.
This is supremacy abiding acceptably
that stinks of the arrogant and pervasively resonant
that's born of the greed bred in the seed
of the foundation of the house built “right”.
This is the racism staining the light prism
casting a blight in its favor of white
that shines with supremacy abiding acceptably
that stinks of the arrogant and pervasively resonant
that's born of the greed bred in the seed
of the foundation of the house built “right”.
This is the ignorance piping the dissonance
and chanting the tune of the morally immune
that fosters the racism staining the light prism
casting a blight in its favor of white
that shines with supremacy abiding acceptably
that stinks of the arrogant and pervasively resonant
that's born of the greed bred in the seed
of the foundation of the house built “right”.
This is the lie as diseased as a fly
that's spreading the ignorance piping the dissonance
and chanting the tune of the morally immune
that fosters the racism staining the light prism
casting a blight in its favor of white
that shines with supremacy abiding acceptably
that stinks of the arrogant and pervasively resonant
that's born of the greed bred in the seed
of the foundation of the house built “right”.
This is the consequence empowered incompetence
brings as a penance we serve as our sentence
for trusting the lie as diseased as a fly
that's spreading the ignorance piping the dissonance
and chanting the tune of the morally immune
that fosters the racism staining the light prism
casting a blight in its favor of white
that shines with supremacy abiding acceptably
that stinks of the arrogant and pervasively resonant
that's born of the greed bred in the seed
of the foundation of the house built “right”.
The oh so "right" have bullyjacked our American Dignity!
WE HAVE THE CURE TO THIS CANCER, THIS HOUSE SHOULD BE CONDEMNED!
-Everyone "left" whom cares enough to speak out against the greatest threat democracy has ever faced and are increasingly aware of the dangerous trajectory America is hurling towards.
Why did God tell Moses, ‘Come to Pharaoh?’
Shouldn’t He have told him to ‘Go?’
Was Moses afraid to go?
I don’t think so
Pharaoh was extremely arrogant, you know
Told folks he created the Nile River, and so
Telling Pharaoh just once, ‘Let My People Go’
Moses would return with nothing to show
G-d knew Moses would have to come back again and again
Maybe five or six times, perhaps even ten
So, when G-d told Moses ‘Come,’
Moses understood it would be quite a long run
Ten Plagues over almost a year ~ before Pharaoh was done
_____________________________________
Exodus 10:1 - 13:16 is the Torah portion read
in synagogues this Saturday (Sabbath) morning.
It includes the last three of the ten plagues, as
well as the Israelites' exodus from Egypt. I see
that the word 'Bo' is translated into English as
'Go' in many Bibles. This is shockingly incorrect.
Any Israeli child knows that 'Bo' means 'Come.'
... Hence, this poem.
On that hilltop a flag flutters in the wind,
not of the victor’s arrogant purple that shines from behind that sky,
not of the blood-soaked red that lies on the battlefield of the defeated,
but of the black that is darker than death.
On the plains a flag waves in the breeze,
not of the deep blue that looks at tomorrow with hope,
not of the pure white the promise of everlasting peace,
but of the black that is darker than death.
Death is a blossom of a flower
blooming in a forsaken wearied loser’s bosom,
death is the thing that is to be buried in the grave
somewhere in the utterly forgotten space and renounced.
Death is like tears that stand in the lonely one’s sorrowful heart
to form a puddle for a while, and though it may leave traces,
they soon vanish away in the river that never ceases to flow.