Long Blabber Poems
Long Blabber Poems. Below are the most popular long Blabber by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blabber poems by poem length and keyword.
The series "Despicable Me,"
we've flocked to theaters to see.
Wee minions--cute creatures--
and bad guys each features.
To all we respond with great glee.
I never dreamed five years ago
that I would soon dash to and fro
in search of these minions--
in children's opinions,
all treasures. How well I now know!
Some kids possess minions galore:
the one-eyed, the two-eyed, and more.
They giggle and jabber;
"BANANA," some blabber.
Their odd appeal, who could ignore?
My grandson's like other young boys.
For Christmas he craved minion toys.
His loved ones went shopping
for hours, not stopping
till we found gifts he now enjoys.
The minion-themed presents I gave
were puzzles, a cool talking Dave,
a pillow with three guys
with one or two huge eyes.
For these he did hug me and rave.
` I'm glad to say just one thing more:
Fart Blaster, I left at the store!
The child would have driven
me nuts if I'd given
him that thing; but Dave, I adore.
Date posted: February 23, 2016
The rhyming scheme of a limerick is aabba.
Breath of Fresh Air
She is a breath of fresh air
The kind you don’t meet every day
Her long and graceful fingers are filled with (bling)
From the men who loved her before.
She is the kind that makes you blush with a glance.
Her beauty surpasses that of an intricate sunrise.
She speaks the truth and does not (blabber)
About unimportant and mundane things
She drinks of life and (slurps) as she swallows from its cup!
Unadulterated laughter fills the room when she muses.
A (drizzle) of joy fills all the dark places and dispels all fears
Like a gradual but steady waterfall,
It (sloshes) into the next week.
Once you have met her…
You will never be the same.
She is a woman who can make you feel
A million emotions by one encounter
She will steal your heart
And put it in her pocket
In case she may need it one day!
So, breathe her in and never forget her face.
Written November 9, 2021
For Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
(ps. underlining and bold did not paste when formatting to poetry soup so words used are in brackets)
sincere apologies
Understandable... the sensible
(three ringed circuitous) logic
to trumpet necessity
each individual moost heed
bedecking, cloaking donning,
ludicrous interloper facial covering,
(I prefer sporting
latest custom made
invisible máscaras faciales),
when commingling amidst madding crowd,
nevertheless coronavirus (COVID-19)
makes laughingstock kickstarting
maniacal paranoid testing yapping
authoritarians blabber ceaselessly
bleak household pandemic
plagues (sear ring)
robust human specimen,
hence yours truly,
a feckless (gibbon) primate
breathes sigh of relief,
why? cuz he counts himself insignificant
absolute zero worth
versus microscopic prickly orb
aging long haired pencil neck geek
best beat hasty retreat
to his man cave
not necessarily avoiding microbial denizen,
yet any potential suffering
scouting out troubadour woefully
jackknifed inept hideaway
availed no choice
rolls out Harris tweed Scottish matt
courtesy minuscule germ man
greeting me with gotcha!,
I willingly surrender
the only thing at stake iz my life,
which would immediately
ebb fate (mine),
automatically buzzfeed chap
offer no chance
for symbiotic relationship
as pathogens indeed choreograph
(dirty deed done dirt cheap)
loft hilly doth waft
through cellular skeins comprising
garden variety/ generic gent
herewith essentially crafting
his poetic epitaph
before onset disables,
disallows, and disvalues
one humble, intelligent, jesting
kindhearted, literate, modest
nincompoop aimlessly adrift
within Brownian movement
(*****sapiens random motions
viewed miles skyhigh)
ostentatious, piteous, querulous,
ridiculous, superfluous, et cetera,
thus forward donations
and/or pledge
(I promise you -
swear to dog
portion of me ashes)
to favorite charity
and will hoop to visit thee as repurposed
noun, verb, adjective, adverb, pronoun,
preposition, conjunction, interjection,
numeral, article, or determiner...
Lillian's Echo
Lillian’s Echo
In the dayroom’s dim embrace, Lillian sat—a survivor etched in time. The air clung to stories, whispered secrets, and the lingering scent of suffering. She, the one-character legend, spun her tales—prose blabber, raw and unfiltered.
Born into the system’s cold arms, Lillian emerged as an adult onto Brooklyn’s unforgiving streets. There, she tasted the bitter brew of inhumanity—the kind that seeps into bones, leaving scars unseen.
Abortions etched memories on her soul. Each child, born or unborn, imprinted on her heart. Tears flowed freely among the day roomers, their lives force-fed with drugs until the final breath. Neglect and abuse danced in shadows, haunting their fragile existence.
Lillian’s own children—thirteen souls conceived in the crucible of rape. Some lost to the system, others to her desperate choices. Abortion, a relentless companion, etched its refrain: “You will never forget.”
Ms. Smaldone, wise and weathered, shared her truth. Money, she warned, was no legacy for offspring. Instead, travel—imbibe life’s nectar before the curtain falls. Merril Lynch riches crumbled when sickness struck, and family greed devoured her nest egg.
Lillian listened, her eyes reflecting pain. She vowed to seize life’s moments, to honor the lost and the forsaken. Four west day roomers, souls adrift, yearned for salvation. May they rest in peace, their echoes woven into Lillian’s prose.
Dark n Beautiful
Written by
I’m crying because I dropped Heather
Down a storm drain, now she's gone forever
My Mum says that Heather is just make believe
So she’ll be no help to get poor Heather out
As my heart it doth bleed and my soul it doth plead
Not quite sure what I should do next
Maybe call 999 requesting some help
But having no phone I cry, I'm perplexed
Whilst a crowd is beginning to gather
When they see me, a child all alone
Tears pour from my eyes as I blabber
They do not comprehend when I speak of my friend
Then all of a sudden a tap on my shoulder
I felt a few times, as it became bolder
I twisted around to the glorious sound of
her voice and her sweet smiling face
Taking one look at me all swollen and red
Her hug and her voice it did calm me instead
Whatever had happened to cause such distress
I told her my fears why I’d burst into tears
I asked how she’d managed to climb from the drain
For my crying and shouting had all been in vain
Heather told me she magically wafted above
When she saw my distress and my undying love
A crowd that had gathered saw us walk down the lane
Hand in hand, two sweet girls, now both happy again
A neighbour of ours who had witnessed the scene
Described it to Mum telling what she had seen
So now Mum believes, though she still can’t see Heather
My make believe friend she’ll be with me forever
Written 10th March 2019
Contest: Down a Storm Drain Gone Forever
Sponsor: Eve Roper
2nd place
Contest YOUR CHOICE(4),any form,any theme
Sponsor: Brian Strand
You were a match that brought a new light into my world,
After three months of meeting, talking, showering and walking
All my mind could do was think about you
The sheer thought of knowing we would see each other
made me dizzy with love, lust, a passion I could not mistrust.
Under a September sky I sit quietly
As I try to remember what it is you first told me
Now the words have drifted away
Like trash along the shore – not meant to become part of nature – which is so pure
I should have kept the memories inside the confines of my mind
But it gets so cluttered sometimes, I know it’s my job to keep these wires organized
Every time I hear Nirvana, I remember driving down the road
With the cows looking at us through the rolled-up windows
You sat in the front and told us all how you didn’t like this music
A twinge inside my gut poked at the thought you were in my life just for this moment
The things you said afterward made that so very potent
You were in my life just for the moment
It felt like magic the times I had with you,
before I knew how much hurt a mouth could do
I pull the petals off a flower, it’s so strange how words can have so much power
It can affect you now until long after
Your words used to speak to me but now it’s only blabber
My head knows I’m better your gone
My heart sings a slow, heavy mourning song.
I wish they would meet, and fix all these pieces that broke when you left
I going to return from this heartbreak
But I won’t be the same
a candle burnt from the flame
What are you? Well, a moth that can’t find the light
I sit here, and cough from the smoke of the lady nearby
A cigarette hangs out of her mouth
I ask her for one, she shrugs
Can’t be done
Ok I say, I fold your faded picture up and walk away.
Do not whisper secrets to the wind,
for the wily wind, is a blabber mouth.
It howls around gravestones,
listening for old rumors to spread.
It slithers through cracks in walls and minds,
It hears your moans, then steals your dreams.
It shakes them loose like brittle leaves,
Then carries them off to stir up a scream.
Wind is never what it seems.
It tricks you in strength and direction.
It lulls and eases, then bursts into gusts,
turns, and vanishes, leaving no trace behind.
It scratches secrets in the sand,
then erases them with sleight of hand.
It blows the sand over to cover its tracks,
so no one knows it has been there.
It fans the flames into a wildfire rage.
Wily and wicked, it shows no shame.
It keeps the embers aglow for another chance
just when you think you put it out.
You can't tame the wind, or lock it up.
You can't claim you have it under control.
It’s best to let it pass — ride the dare.
It will always pop up from somewhere else.
The wind's echoes shrills from mouths of ghosts.
It lulls your guard with a calming kiss on cheek.
Before blasting a storm up in your face,
to catch you off-guard and unprepared,
leaving you shattered and lost.
Don't ever trust the wind,
It's a clever, cunning, wicked beast.
Flying so wild, so free and untamed,
that it shatters your hopes and dreams.
Some go to a shrink or psychiatrist and jabber,
I do this anywhere anytime,
I express, pen press and feel bliss for free,
open cus opinions mean nothing to me,
I guess people don't matter cus people flatten they don't flatter
when I was in the gutter
with gut dread rather
than believe and help relieve pain
they brand lies in my name
then complain everyone complains of false troubles the same,
so dismissive so disrespectful actually self centred and selfish
as two minutes later they feel
the need to talk of their exes exit months ago
you've already tried to help them through still here they go
though it's too much effort to listen to you,
they are like all eyes on me and nothing to give
so you refuse to talk as they did
and they get upset, can't believe it,
so you explain why would I talk about you
after you told me my problem's not true.
All this is a sideshow to my real problems
so I let it go and leave it, forgotten,
but they're aggrieved, think I'm unkind
and start telling everyone I lie
make up stories and this spreads like wildfire
from deadhead to deadhead
now I'm seen as a blagger
that will sit and blabber
and rather than decide in their own heads
for themselves they side like a shelve
while my situation is killing me inside
but if it's spoke of it's pre-believed as a lie
though they've no clue, losing my mind,
enjoying the bonding as a group ignorant to truth
what a hoof to the tooth, so I'm aloof
while they get used to this,
I'm unaware cus I've got a real fight with strife
that requires a focused mind and this is my downtime,
get stoned blank mind.
Real problems distract and impact me,
who can I turn too with no one true,
slowly I leave my friends life,
I go free
and after their laughter there's realisation
they can't figure out why, I'm just a changed one,
while I've so much on my mind
I forget the reason,
I forget their treason,
still my subconscious propelled me away
and only when my mind unravels years later
I realise why I didn't stay.
A lifetime of friendship was instantly corrupt,
rather than help me you said I make stuff up!!!
You know you're in trouble
When folks burst your bubble
That your fine English accent
Most others lament.
Their eyes grow far larger
Their countenance harder
As they gaze with intent
To listen hell bent.
Their attention a treasure
At first such a pleasure
Until one quite grasps
Their facial contrasts.
As you blabber away
Their head starts to sway
To the tones of your words
Like a flock of wild birds.
Too late you catch on
Their attention long gone
It seems they got stuck
In your sonnet like muck.
Shakespeare or Keats
Moved out by those Tweets
Leaves you silently grasping
And for sympathy asking.
Your hope turns to prayer
That perhaps they'll forbear
Whilst you fast learn their lingo
To squirm out of limbo.
For the speech we hold dear
The moral's now clear
If you want to converse
Just don't do it in verse.
"You'll find more peace in your life if you refuse to listen to idle chatter."
~ by poet
When a squirrel does it, he sounds like the Madd Hatter
But when doves coo it, it's more like romantic chatter
Chickens cluck pecking for grain that makes them fatter
and Meerkats jabber as a warning signal to "SCATTER!"
Often defined as the noises made by monkeys and birds
but I've heard such gibberish spoken by humans in words
and clinical conversations of dialogue by high-tech nerds.
I wonder if baaing and neighing is chatter among herds.
Chatter can also be considered as gossip or tittle-tattle
or as irrelevant talking, which is idle or foolish prattle.
Perhaps used in bovine circles as mooing among cattle
and the goo goo sound of a baby when shaking a rattle.
I've known a talker or two who I'd label chatter bugs
who can become more annoying then crawling slugs
That's not the kind of people I'd want to give big hugs
for their chatter might persist until I'd need ear plugs.
There's muttering and piffling, cackling and yammers
who'd talk day and night til you put on your jammers.
With nonstop chit chat, they blabber in noisy clamours
until you can make it stop with whacks from hammers!
February 4, 2023
Writing Challenge - C Words Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France