Long Bellyache Poems
Long Bellyache Poems. Below are the most popular long Bellyache by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bellyache poems by poem length and keyword.
Former CIA Director
John Brennan scathing headlines
Washington Post op-ed sharply
published critical accusations
muted excoriation slams
Commander in Chief
volcanic blatant pathological lying
spews like lava his American
foreign policy boilerplate brazenly
bastardizes by banditry blueprint,
balefully balkanizing beautiful bracketed
booming brady bunch brand,
bests best-buy buffer braking balanced
bastion, bolstered beloved benighted
bequeathed bicameral bipartisan bliss,
Baptizing bacchanalian buffoonish bombast,
betokening bobble-headed Bumstead,
barmy bartered bride bravado, bizarrely
brash brassiness, blindsiding behavior,
beetlebrowed bonehead, bafflingly baldfaced,
bankrupting, blithely bollixing,
bombastically belittling, badmouthing,
banally blasting, banana-boat baseless,
bearish blandishments, beastly boastful
boosterism, bellicosely boorish, bug-eyed,
bighearted, bigoted blathering breeding
blunderbuss bloopers, bewildering
bloodletting bellyache blight,
brazenly being bandying bellwether,
blitzing bourgeoisie balderdash,
balking but beaming barbaric
berserk ballyhoo backbiting,
backslapping backstabbing
blacklisting bromides,
besetting basic bestowed blooming,
Bobbitizing bedeviling beneficial
bulwark bereft badinage, ballistically ballooning
betrayal birthing bedlam.
Parking lots are empty, the streets are bare:
no one forecast this; nothing can compare.
Acting cavalier, some don't even care
that the elderly die, gasping for air:
they still say staying inside is unfair.
The low-wage everyday workers are scared,
finding themselves jobless and unprepared.
And it's soon apparent no country's spared:
the whole world's at war, though it's undeclared.
Facts about the pandemic got disclosed,
and self-quarantine measures were imposed;
while airports and national borders closed.
Social distancing stressed out the nation:
socialization is our foundation.
And, we've got good reason to bellyache.
Corporate greed failed hospital healthcare:
profits increased, and therefore no one cared,
that this pandemic left the world exposed.
A lack of supplies brought desperation:
now, everyone's paying for that mistake.
Little Johnny came home from school with a bellyache
Naturally Mom feared the most recent local outbreak
Johnnie thankfully had no fever, she suspected it might be a fake
But strange and most bizarre Johnnie had no appetite for steak
Or even for his ultimate favourite strawberry shortcake
The next morning Johnnie barely could awake
Didn’t want to go to school because of a backache
Mom thought the cure might just be a nice big pancake
Or maybe the warm chocolate muffins that she’d bake
But Johnnie just wanted to curl up with his pet rattlesnake
In the afternoon, when Little Johnny mentioned a toothache
Mom reached for the thermometer in case the first time was a mistake
She sent Johnnie for a nap and sat pensive as she took her coffee break
Out the window she saw askew the mounds of leaves to rake
She got up and tiptoed up the stairs to see what was at stake
She found Johnny pouting wide-eyed and awake
As she extended to him a warm loving handshake
In her heart she felt a sudden jolt of earthquake
Poor Little Johnny was growing up at double take
And suffering acutely from his very first heartbreak
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
*Image of Seasons Of The Year by Pixabay.
Seasonals
~~0~~
Time of heaven's anointing fertile grounds,
fertile nature, and beast surrounds,
Hail, 'tis springtime here a blossoming,
buds are blooming everywhere,
Hark the juveniles from the towns,
frolicking yonder the fairgrounds,
Awakening comes into being,
comes into being the heralds of spring,
Playing happily here rounds and elsewhere,
cheerily sounds, frowns drowns,
~~adults abound at hare and hounds.
~~0~~
Heightening sunlight burning daylight truly,
nigh in the noon hour stand high,
Flowers' mood-matching shades of golden brown
from bluish green trades,
The exclusive facade reaches bone dry,
bone dry as warm air is blown dry,
They sweltered till all screamed for ice cream
as their dessert melted away an "s",
Gods and goddesses tans apply, amplify fans,
swim summer ray goodbye,
~~by and by, May, June, and July.
~~0~~
Here, hear it came, rustling leaves a-tumbling,
a-tumbling down the country lane,
Reddish ocher spread out all a-flustered,
all a-flustered every which way,
Autumn rain drenched down leaves that drain
neath the woods where they have lain,
Ebbing its crimson crust chilly ashen dust
blankets shyly amidst the gust,
Rustic western host John Wayne,
all else subtleties pens Mark Twain,
~~larks in vain, come, Abel and Cain.
~~0~~
Fall mist snaps wide-awake, anew sorta undertake,
an outstretched lea windbreak,
Holiday treats, festive retreats,
time for family and friends to gather,
Turkey and ham, and bellyache, chats, and drinks,
and aspirins for that aged headache,
Winter's here once again, bringing joyous cheer,
looking back to this good old year,
The afterglow of the fireworks show, slake coffee,
and cheesecake, new year break,
~~strive worth to make, thrive earth God's sake.
~~0~~
2022 July 22
There was a time, not long ago,
I’m sure this won’t seem strange,
When I would never leave my house
Without a pile of change.
My wallet would be fit to burst
Or pockets would be jangling
With all the quarters that from every source
I had been wrangling.
The parking meters ate them up.
The bus was just as greedy;
And every pay phone (once a dime)
For quarters seemed quite needy.
The laundry room had its machines
Equipped so they would take
As many quarters as they could
Before we’d bellyache.
I needed quarters in the car
For paying all the tolls;
And in arcades, a two-bit coin
Bestowed you the controls.
But now technology’s advanced
With cards of many types.
Some radar reads your E-Z Pass;
You board the bus with swipes.
I’ve plastic for the wash and dry,
The subway and to park.
A quarter proffered would be met
With shrug as question mark.
I miss my quarter harvest
Though I really must confess
I’m better off today because
My wallet weighs much less!
Finally, Summer's over and the kids are back in school
I'm not a bad mother, but after driving through carpool,
I'll have seven hours, five days a week, spent in peace
No yelling, "Behave!" In silence I'll find sweet release.
I'll no longer hear voices say, "Mom, what's for lunch?"
Please understand that I love my kiddies a whole bunch,
but they ran around all Summer long like an unruly tribe.
The opening of school is what my doctor would prescribe.
Then it dawned on me... the pitfalls of what that means.
Now I'll hear, "Mom, why didn't you wash my new jeans?"
I'm pretty darn sure that child has a closet full of clothes.
One more affliction added to the motherhood of woes.
Let me not forget that I'll still be driving them all around
to football practice, and drama rehearsals, I'll be bound.
No time for them to snack at home before we must leave,
another burden we mom's bear that kids do not perceive.
I admit that they're growing too fast and soon I'll be alone
Then I will miss them dearly and I will bellyache and moan,
wishing I'd spent more time with my children every day.
I hope I'll not be the only mother who will feel this way.
August 28, 2022
Back to School Contest
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Should it be a poet's duty
To write solely about beauty?
A POET’S DUTY by BETH EVANS
ANSWER ON A BED OF NAILS
let me answer the quixotic brioche —
we all need a delicate pinch;
brachial bruising a warning
all the flowery talk dispels the magnitude
of cancer, the carbuncle of abuse,
the horrific salutations of the nazi regime
we march alone but also as a world
arm in arm, armed with insecticide
words like ants; a bench’s rash
a hose in diffusion’s spray
may try to paint the sky
in shades of love’s foray
turn it off; let flow subside
take a better look —
heart on a bed of nails
war of words; a twisting sword
let truth be the blood
that scores
because a poet can also whitewash
with parrots
mimic...mimic...mimicking
seek your bellyache
examine, test, squander
all its savings
let cavalry of water fall
soaking wet
with poet’s ink
10/9/2020
Beth Evans’ A Poet's Duty Poetry Contest
I love autumn - 'tis my most favorite of the seasons.
The harvest moon and colorful leaves are some of many reasons.
Trees that during summer provided shade and leaves of jade,
Now wear robes of red and gold so brilliantly displayed!
I'm awed as the rising sun casts its beams on neighboring trees,
Further exposing exquisite leaves dancing in the gentle breeze.
But I have a bone to pick with Mother Nature, truth be told.
Though my emerald lawn is now carpeted with pretty leaves of gold,
'Tis not especially to my liking since it is them I must rake.
'Tis neighbor's leaves that litter my lawn - and that's my bellyache!
His eyes are glued upon your plate
Hoping a morsel might escape
Anything that reaches the ground
He'll gladly wolf it down
Anticipation is his fate
Wanting a taste of master's steak
The aroma fills the air
Hungry eyes stare
Every precise cut they see
Every bite they plead
Every chew they woo
Every swallow they boo
Never blinking only fear
That the steak won't be shared
Will the master eat the fat
If he does I'll bite the cat
Oooh yes he looks at me
Tail wagging can't he see
Mouth watering big smile
Don't forget your favorite pal
Meal is done scraps to dog
He swallows them like a starving hog
Happy happy happy day
Steak bone to chew and play
Little doggie loves his treat
That night he sleeps at my feet
Dreams of eating juicy steak
Until he burst from bellyache
Life is about having the right attitude.
Don't be known as one with platitude.
Someone who is a habitual whiner,
is not a good companion at a diner.
Life is always a much happier place
if you don't slap anyone in the face,
so you won't be a curmudgeon grouch
why don't you take a nap on your couch.
No one wants to be around a grumbler
especially one who should be humbler.
Wear a smile instead of a sourpuss frown
and from your own pedestal, step down.
One who brags about his or her work
is really just being a malcontent jerk.
If these words seem harsh and trite,
some fish are known to take a bite.
Kindness is the best way to make a friend
so stop being bitter, just make amends.
Stop being a grouch, no talk or bellyache,
and be nice to others, for goodness sake!