Long Barging Poems

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


Ration

Reality is rising out of the earth, mixing water with dirt, the children are playing in the mud from morning until sun down and the crisis in the street have disrupted the long awaited peace, and I patiently watched their short lived freedom  evaporating in thin cold air.

They once bore the amour of truth from the days of their youth but with the passing of time, wisdom has crossed over to the other side and reality runs like mad men through the street.

You don’t know the price of goods for you have been living in the woods, raisin buns have gone up and the eagle bread is soaring in the sky. The prices are way out of reach and it is hard to compete; anxiety is running throughout the town and the hustlers are running around looking for cheap barging.

Food is going to be rationed again, run and tell your friend, get ready for the big overhaul, it is going to make some people bawl, a pound of chicken for ten American dollars, a pound of steak for twelve dollars, eggs for six dollars a dozen, rice, flour, sugar and cornmeal for three dollars and fifty cents per pound, oatmeal for six dollars and  fifty cents per pack and seawater fish for five dollars a pound what more can I say when reality stares you in the face, you have to do something before it’s too late.

Come and share your bread with me and I will make your dream come true, come and share your bread with me and enjoy my company. The people are coming out of the lion’s den, they are looking for new friends, one bread to feed a family of five; and there peace and love will abide.
There is just not enough for everyone and reality is singing a different song so meet me at the garden center before noon because my family and friends will be coming home soon.

I have to buy buckets, mops, bleach, and detergent to clean out the place and air freshener to neutralize the mouly smells in the corners. I need garden rakes and brooms, a big shovel and a wheel barrow, we are going to clean inside out and we are going to make the devil shout; I need board hammers and nails to keep   the dogs behind the gate so meet me at the garden center before it’s too late.
Form: Narrative


Refugees From Blue States, Part Ii

...Then there are the very extreme
'soldiers' of the environment,
anyone wants to build something,
they march and sue to prevent.
Now natural conservation
is in itself not a bad thing,
but blue state folk seem to forget
there is a need for balancing.
If there is nowhere folks can build
then what will happen to home price?
Supply shrinks, but demand stays high,
driving land values out of sight.
A million a year shot not be
just enough to be middle class,
yet from L.A. up to Nappa
California is just like that!
Add to this fact that we still need
metal and oil to survive,
and when we cannot extract it
the price of life rockets high.
Pricey to drive, to buy and sell,
to put food on the dinner planes,
please remember the human need
when you're fleeing from a blue state.

And finally there are the guns,
which some say you should never have,
that you can depend on police,
that one always gives me a laugh!
That a state would every try
to erode your own sovereignty
is a crime in and of itself,
you are entitled to live free!
And that means seeing to defense
of yourself, your friends, and your kin.
There's little chance cops will be there
when true evil comes barging in.
It's a thought that can scare a soul,
but adults should act like grown-ups,
that means taking action sometimes,
especially when things are rough.
You are no serf to be ordered,
no coward who just waits for death,
and that means you may need a gun
to force aside that final breath.
Here we do not expect you to
surrender to murder or rape,
so leave the gun-grabbing behind
if your fleeing from a blue state.

See, it always seems weird to us
when folks up and move in here,
then vote for the same policies
that made their old jobs disappear.
Keep making all the same mistakes,
you'll keep getting the same result,
you new home will end up ruined,
and sadly it wall be your fault.
But we can keep prosperity
flourishing right here in this place,
just leave the leftist crap behind
when you're fleeing from a blue state.
Form: Rhyme

Seeped In My Marrow and Flesh

....seeped in my marrow and flesh

Can't help thinking about 
those days
When you seeped in
my marrow
Those lovely hurts even in
my flesh:
You innocently arrived with
lovely trends
feeding me with ease and
Elating junks

But like a wind you
Blew strange
As if drunk in pride
and Guts
Breaking off the wall your
love built.
Barging into my heart
and soul
stealing away love,care
and joy
Even all that could make
me hope.

You made me seem as
A fool
You took my love as 
A food
You consumed all without
my consent
And sent my soul wandering
in jungles.

My heart can no
longer contain
The lust poured furiously
into it:
By those brutal eyes
and words
That pierced my soul
like sword
And made it like an
ocean bleed

The ocean is flowing
even still
Needs the cause to
mend it

I'm torn by you:
your acts.
Yet,i'll be sown by you:
true love.
      17:23:12:22:58

Premium Member My Home Is Neon

My home is neon-friend to the idiocy degree.
I am sure when people barge in, they think me mad.
Which suits me fine
For there will be less barging.

They need to stay on their side of the river.
If I need them, I will pick up the phone and call.
If they need me, they had better think hard about it.
For my phone is off unless I want to make a call, which is seldom.

Many homes are feuillemort. Dull orange, dull brown, duller yellow.
This is not my home.
My home lights up like New Year's Eve's Madison Square Garden.
My home is neon-friendly to the idiocy degree.

I could not live here if it were any other way.
I could not live anywhere if I could not take my neons with me.
I certainly could not live in an old folk's home.
I consider them social clubs for the non-private ones.

Firing Squad

Take it away
Right now—see here…look here
Run into the light where one shadow casts an intent, lowly eye
Into the very heart of the storm, the words fall with might

You see a word and take sail as doubt and understanding foretell
A heartfelt message meant to destroy all that behold
Look here!
Crush the thoughts that bind you
The past that releases shards….murders of ravens
Pecking infidelity into your weakened visions
Forcing you to turn the other way and not listen
NOT listen
To the sounds of vibrant declaration driven from the blood of the lost
To the taste of defeat lathered in pride for the slowly dying sun
To the pinch of the skin upon the tethered limbs
Squeezing the wrists holding the ink
Releasing…releasing
The very blood that drives it!
That mind—how burdensome to the mass!
Crawling about for purpose
Searching—the best for last!
Firing squad!

Gone—

Sniveling snobs of insipient tact—obsessed with some artillery pact
Marveling at what sophisticated solidity can do to drive down a life
Move a herd of scared animals across a wasteland desired
Bile like the water source held back for the more important
Sniveling sad, chauvinist snouts tracing the secular age of rot
Eating everything they got
Wishing for what the sad ones hold on to
The only thing that keeps that eye dry
Take it away and words go awry
In chaotic monotony
Barging in matrimony
Forcing the impaired to repair
Kindling a fire already put out by your thoughtless glare
Curse this burdensome mind of the masses!
Curse the unpainted lines that omit from my very lips!
As I read every scourging fire bolt out
All one sees is the words protruding out
From a heart so bitter by bitter alone
Trusting in the meter, the rhyme, the tone!
I left the earth too far to return! 
Fresh! Lowly, but fresh!
Immanent in high regard TO THE OPPRESSED

Take it away
Right now—see here…look here
Run into the light where one shadow casts an intent, lowly eye
Into the very heart of the storm, the words fall with might

A burdened firing squad faced a mirror
And shot blindly
Through fear


Emotional Onset Surges Like Tsunami 1st Wave

Unbeknownst tummy why, (around
about 2200 hours October 5th, 2018),
     a slew of forgotten incidents quasi
lee linkedin, and questionably
     nsync, though lightly browned

     with Alfred Lord Tennyson's,
     "The Charge of the
     Light Brigade" - ("found"
via Google search), nonetheless,
     said decades old reminiscences

     and remembrances, viz
     early father forcefully
     came barging unstoppably,
     and furiously galloping
     out of the blue - painfully crowned

ning me noggin like 
     a crash test dummy
     on the prowl akin
     to a frenzied blood hound
tearing at light speed - unbound
(defying laws of physics) just now

     forgotten instances I feebly
     try to expound
     inexplicably purportedly
buried in a “mound”
long forgotten everyday details,
     when all my (deux than

     young restless) children abound
did with limitless energy ground
me with fatigue as the world turned,
     two beautiful hearts lovingly pound
ding with oblivious innocent bliss,

     ah such ordinariness unwound
recollections roared back resound
ding lee - into my mind 
     with out a sound
re: collections long since past 

     suddenly didst rib bound
did (mainly, when thee and the Punim
     spent time at playground
as young little girls),
     who oft times found,

     ye or Shana clamoring
     for this dada to push
     both of thee simultaneously
     on the swing or merry-go-round,
or later on during that evening,

     or another occasion found
the three of us
     laughing (ho...ho...ho...) as we played
     one or another round
of Mancala, Uno, Scrabble,

     Sorry, (where this papa clowned
no matter, he got his game pieces round
lee sent homeward bound),
     those supposedly forgotten
     days of yore suddenly rumbling

     within thy inner sanctum all mound
joyless deep under ground
     came barreling thru my psyche
     analogous to a class 5 hurricane
     like gang busters
    lashing out and drowned
at my whole being.

Premium Member Don'T Even Ask Collaboration With Tom Quigley

Have you ever had one of those days 
On the wrong side of the bed, bad days 
When everything right went wrong 

Cause the ding had lost it's dong 
Ouch, Mr. Sun came peeking in 
Up from bed and banged your shin 
Leaky, full toilet overflowed 
Damn, you stubbed your other big toe 

Times like this: don't you love those days 
Hardly anything seems to go your way? 
Is little Johnnie turning green 
Splat! Is that doggie ice cream? 

Gas oven took a dump 
Everyone’s oatmeal was in clumps 
The kids were late AGAIN for school 

Wasn’t that traffic cop a tool? 
Oh, you should've just stayed in bed! 
Rolled back over and called in dead… 
Shoot! An hour late for work 
Emptied Starbucks on your shirt 

Dare you ask how this could get worse? 
Others think you're such a jerk. 
Next, the boss comes barging in 
Tells you,"Look for work again" 

Everything was going wrong 
Vacation's gonna be a little long 
Even your wife’s rope is at an end 
Now she says, "Let's just be friends" 

An asteroid fell from the skies 
Smashed the beer between the thighs 
Kick yourself for getting out of bed


  a fun collaboration with the incomparable Tom Quigley
Form: Acrostic

Birth of the Grudge Between the Baskets and the Liquids

Once ago,all natural elements were friends:
Sharing together time and lovely trends:
Plastics,pails,rivers,oceans and fruit.
Yams,pumpkins,were all bound by truth.

But one day...

Their sprouted an impromptu meeting,
Whose urgency hit if not all but few patience:
Barging into their privacy,
Denying them of their freedom.
And all agreed to go:
Even to the hall of the meeting.

'The meeting was about 
the new revolution,
Which will their affairs proffer solutions.
And we all by pairs will we depart,
For some to gather tools and other wits for the revolution.

And so did they departed in pairs:
The baskets and the liquids, a pair.

So were they swallowed in the journey:
Even the spell of the revolution bewitched them.

The liquids were held by the baskets,
And now to change the order,the liquids refused.
So did the weight of the liquids weaken the baskets
that even their garments torn:
And so did the nakedness of the liquids show-
Even their nakedness torn the basket's garments. 
 And the grudge was born!

Ration

Reality is rising out of the earth, mixing water with dirt, the children are playing in the mud from morning until sun down and the crisis in the street have disrupted the long awaited peace, and I patiently watched their short lived freedom  evaporating in thin cold air.

They once bore the amour of truth from the days of their youth but with the passing of time, wisdom has crossed over to the other side and reality runs like mad men through the street.

You don’t know the price of goods for you have been living in the woods, raisin buns have gone up and the eagle bread is soaring in the sky. The prices are way out of reach and it is hard to compete; anxiety is running throughout the town and the hustlers are running around looking for cheap barging.

Food is going to be rationed again, run and tell your friend, get ready for the big overhaul, it is going to make some people bawl, a pound of chicken for ten American dollars, a pound of steak for twelve dollars, eggs for six dollars a dozen, rice, flour, sugar and cornmeal for three dollars and fifty cents per pound, oatmeal for six dollars and  fifty cents per pack and seawater fish for five dollars a pound what more can I say when reality stares you in the face, you have to do something before it’s too late.

Come and share your bread with me and I will make your dream come true, come and share your bread with me and enjoy my company. The people are coming out of the lion’s den, they are looking for new friends, one bread to feed a family of five; and there peace and love will abide.
There is just not enough for everyone and reality is singing a different song so meet me at the garden center before noon because my family and friends will be coming home soon.

I have to buy buckets, mops, bleach, and detergent to clean out the place and air freshener to neutralize the mouly smells in the corners. I need garden rakes and brooms, a big shovel and a wheel barrow, we are going to clean inside out and we are going to make the devil shout; I need board hammers and nails to keep   the dogs behind the gate so meet me at the garden center before it’s too late.
Form: Narrative

Happier With Less

One day the EMP’s were launched
Then came the fervent cries 
Of towns folk barging through the streets 
Demanding to know why
All of their electronic gear
Upon which they relied 
For very nearly everything 
Had in an instant died.

There was no way for them to know
How long they’d be denied
Their use of precious gadgets for
All media was fried.
There was so much sheer chaos and
It lasted through the night
Until exhaustion nullified 
Their will and thus their fight.

There wasn’t any answer
For a very long long time 
At length the seething settled down
Then each and all resigned
To live without devices which had
Overcome their lives.
The old ways returned yet again
In time they would surmise

How much  the world which they had loved 
Enforced a hefty price
Of degradation to the point
Where nothing would suffice
But noise and entertainment
Spilling out of each device,
Where no one thought to turn things off.
No, none could sacrifice

One moment for tranquility
For quiet, peaceful nights,
For gatherings among their friends,
For conversations rife
With happy comradery 
By day or firelight.
It took a blackout to suspend
The madness in one bite.
Form: Rhyme

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