Long Blather Poems
Long Blather Poems. Below are the most popular long Blather by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blather poems by poem length and keyword.
I suspect in my feckless youth my folks thought me rather slovenly,
Obnoxious, averse to work and associated with dubious company,
But Air Force sergeants dealt discipline with lingo at times unsweet,
Convincing me that life is easier if things are regular and complete!
They taught me to hang my clothes on hangers all facing the same way,
With buttons buttoned and shoes shined which I observe to this very day.
I prefer button-down collars; my pants must have a crease and pleat,
Because you see, I insist on things being regular and complete!
The Caddie DTS must be washed and waxed to a perfect sheen,
And when dining out, woe to the chef who screws up my cuisine!
My lawn must at all times be the best manicured on the street,
Because you see, I insist on things being regular and complete!
My barber must see that my eyebrows and hair are neatly trimmed.
The barkeep must serve my beer ice cold with all the suds skimmed.
I like folks who keep their word, show up on time and are discreet,
Because you see, I insist on things being regular and complete!
I detest cell phones and the 'magpies' who on them endlessly blather,
Especially when driving or dining; they work me into a seething lather!
I reckon some folks think me an old curmudgeon and rather off-beat,
But dad gum it, I insist on things being regular and complete!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
I knew I couldn’t get to sleep
Unless I watched Veep versus Veep;
‘Cause after last week’s dull debate,
I hoped that this would set things straight.
So Biden started his attack,
His plan to make his rival crack;
But Ryan never lost his cool
Or gave us much to ridicule…
Except his blather had no heft.
Without the fluff, not much is left;
For Romney’s plans are not prolific,
Naming nary one specific.
Biden couldn’t stop his smiling
Which, to some, was not beguiling.
Still, despite his constant grin,
He secured a solid win.
Hopefully, some indecision
Will be changed by television.
Voters feeling some connection
Will determine this election.
( • Faux colors & other blather-lather tongue-lash trash promos • )
_____
For why?
(Imported cheese skewa's mo' mid-night doo'az) . . .
how sand cups da' nuts • O' thou bendi bêãch • for which the dubious shark-sighting reports exkuz-us have proved clueless-
a tropical topic of serious scientific inquiry / relational chem-bo's whacking the hippocampus.
Imagine then the kaleidoscopic cacophony of tropical haiku bursting from my mold-dented ottoman’s baby-breath foot-washer elocution's 'lectrocutions, eclectic electric bill's submersible subjects ~ ( surfer fluidity? ) Superfluity ( you Dimp! ) Unbound!
OR
Soupify our autumn alum-drummed luminaries with kung-fu cryptic-dues for pool-side doggy-print prints and herr' burgermeister's onions on the half flip-side because "Stupification®" has got to be that new restaurant on La Brea drive!
Ring-a-ling "Dog poo!"
Get out'a my yard slacker
Fence post rendezvous
. . . And how'd you get my phone number?
by Lingua Lacuna
Notes:
_____
Entropys' Centuries; Lingua intones, The aroma!
Dude; he assures the man in the mirror, and the glare!
.
Revelations about Dad’s infamous midnight lectures...
woke up courtesy therapy
Especially during past session
on May eighth
two thousand twenty one
between the hours of five and
six o'clock post meridiem.
Between three and four score years ago
the following poetic ill winds did blow
yours truly felt like carrion
repurposed courtesy black crow
decimated to bajillion pieces
analogous to deaf eat, viz bitter foe
where within bared mine soul
telltale toxin did glow
yes dear reader cumulative wrath – hello
synopsis I invite thee to know
why self esteem within me so low
lackluster love life accentuated
cuz yours truly
never kissed under mistletoe
Dreadful homelife upon
exiting early adolescence
no bed of roses parental
wrath did commence
me (especially after
graduating bottom 1%)
scorned as among lowlife
versus being among
productive vested gents
I withstood blistering, mortifying
withering howling offense
yours truly uttered nary a peep.
I dreaded every malevolent utterance
when father requested he speak
not about some choice topic dejure
brought a twinkle to my eye,
but that all to familiar monologue
finding me standing like stone wall
hearing, tuning out with equally
predictable trademark demurely meek
pose with hands crossed against
chest of the then easily intimidated guy
despite feeling effects of utter ennui
and fatigue attempted to stand tall
against the tsunami verbal typhoon
itching to drown out said battle creek
when asked capisce? comprende? farshtayst?
looked blankly at floor well nigh
or pretended to stare at something extreme
fascinating on the kitchen wall
for he may as well asked if I understand
in an unfamiliar language such as Greek
most likely getting successful results
yammering away at common house fly
possibly seething inside (p’raps
equally swatted) ready to lash out into a brawl
held back by fear plus
in comparison to me pop –
just a itty bitty pipsqueak,
who felt onrushing and overpowering
desire to collapse and cry
compounded by growing urge
to urinate from that natural urethral call
spoke nada word, nor gave hint
of hearing from loathsome blather that did reek
like decomposition of fetid of dead
living entity that began to putrefy
which offal to mine ears, tugged impetus
under warm blankets to crawl!
You hear dumb people screaming it
all over the networks today,
latest excuse for censorship,
“Hate speech! Hate Speech!” they always say.
They’ve even pushed some governments
to think that it’s a real thing,
politicos lusting for power
are only too eager in helping.
A true Orwellian idea,
every busy-body’s greatest wish;
but there’s no such thing as ‘Hate Speech,’
you’re scum if you think that there is.
Free speech has been long protected,
and there is good reason for that,
public exchange of all ideas
is what weeds the good from the bad.
Did not free speech allow debate
on whether the slaves should be free?
Did not the south deem it ‘hateful’
when call on their hypocrisy?
Did not it allow Jim Crow’s lash
to be dragged out into the light?
Can the woke cultists of today
be so utterly sure they’re correct?
Or with free speech are they afraid
that they’re evil might just be next?
Because the way they act these days
one cruel fact cannot be ignored,
had social media existed
Abe Lincoln would have been censored.
To dare speak out on freeing slaves
would have been seen as a real risk;
but there’s no such things as ‘Hate Speech,’
you’re scum if you think that there is.
Free speech must play the social role
of showing uncomfortable truths,
like a parent using tough love
to impart something to the youth.
You say Gender Dysphoria
increases chance of suicide,
they blather that you are ‘hateful,’
they’d rather let those people die.
You point our single motherhood
destroys children in the long run,
they scream out that you ‘hate women!
What’s wrong is a girl has some fun?
But school shooters and locked-up cons
all seem to come from broken homes,
depression, drop-outs, job failure
these correlations are well-known.
We used to speak about such things,
to save our daughters from this fate,
now society falls apart
because dumb leftists call it ‘hate.’
If it can’t be called to account
the destructiveness will persist;
there is no such thing as hate speech,
you’re scum if you think that there is.
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Would you like a piece of blackberry pie?
Oh, yes, he said, oh, my, oh, my!
Blackberries are antioxidants you know.
I had no idea and told him so.
Blackberries on ice cream or even in cake.
Blackberry jam after a kiss.
Blackberry pie, it is great for goodness sake!
I salivate thinking of this.
They are a terrific source of vitamin C.
I am wondering now if I should keep all the pie for me.
And they have magnesium too, you know, he says with a sigh.
I don’t care a bit, I am dreaming of warm pie.
Blackberries on ice cream or even in cake.
Blackberry jam after a kiss.
Blackberry pie, it is great for goodness sake!
I salivate thinking of this.
He has forgotten the pie and is speaking of cheese.
I am tired of his blather and want him gone in the breeze.
So, I can enjoy the pie by myself, and eat the whole thing.
When he finally leaves, I want to sing!
Written 8-11-22
Contest: Your thoughts on Blackberries
Host: Matt Calirl
Wherever there is carcass, there the vultures will gather -
Jesus stated this; there is nothing in this to blather;
There are reasons when eagles fly around; pointing danger?
Indicating birds or animals or human stranger...?
Yet, why do they circle - is not just a single reason…
Explanations are many; there's no obvious treason;
Do they circle around to enjoy the wholesome weather?
Is it an exercise to strengthen their lovely feather…?
Do they fly so in cohesion to tell us a secret,
That cannot be spoken out except into the closet...?
That the garbage here on earth has mounted so high above,
Emptying these is, indeed, a matter of concern, thereof...?
Do they do so to gain in air their equilibrium?
Or do they do so to perfect their dactylic rhythm...?
Or thermal cause of their circling around in trooping groups?
Do they have, in their instinct, like kites, self-sustaining loops...?
Symbol of strength; guidance; innovation; inspiration;
Hope, courage and salvation; eagle has no fixed nation;
To me this has symbol of my death and resurrection,
From where I got this? To this day I've no recollection...!
Something very strange God has given to you, dear eagle!
Cyclone and earthquake easily you could make out so well;
Signs of times you know; you know scientific tempers too,
Is it this why you circle around without any woe...?
05 July 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 31 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
They fell in love and married when she was about the age of twenty.
He knew she liked to talk since she'd already bent his ears aplenty!
She could babble at twenty miles per hour with gusts up to forty!
His mother warned him, "Son, this woman will surely damage your corti!"
Even when in a romantic mood and with her he'd like to coddle,
She would rant and carry on with her incessant twaddle!
She'd prattle at forty miles per hour with cyclonic gusts of seventy-eight!
Only when she'd begin to snore would her unceasing blather abate!
They attended their college reunion and he was embarrassed to death!
She dominated each and every conversation and didn't take a breath!
She gabbled at thirty miles per hour with occasional gusts to fifty!
He hesitated to tell her so but as an auctioneer she'd be mighty nifty!
At her family reunions it sounded as if they were speaking in tongues,
Like the rabble at The Tower of Babel, bellowing at the top of their lungs!
Babbling on and on seemed to be an inherent family trait!
They'd chatter at fifty miles per hour with gusts exceeding ninety-eight!
When his spouse said the grace she'd chat with the Lord ad infinitum,
Asking Him to bless the food and all God's children beginning with Adam!
When she left for Beulah Land, on her stone he had this message etched:
"I could never get a word in any-wise and that ain't too farfetched!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
A little homework assignment - if you don't know what the word "corti' means,
look it up in your handy-dandy Funk 'n Wagnalls!
Momentous meteor shower of words
Plethora of metered color absurd
Rainbows falling to the ground
With syllable shakes and bobo refrains
Lamentable lemon sunsets of pain
Our God stuns with just one sound
Err not, for he certainly beautifies
Wing’d articulation of butterflies
Enchanting chanting with wings
Whilst poet’s tongue sticks to roof of mouth
Or bathes in blather of love toward spouse
God’s glory the angels King
Our word counts we treasure and lock up tight
Iambic or free we type up all night
Impactful the sun and moon
God’s trophy ascribed sans paper and ink
Multitude of stars show’d off on the brink
In sacred immaculate swoon
8/21/2021
I wander down a cobbled street,
sodden from rain, heckled by whispers
revealing secrets on this blustery night.
They bewilder me in a surge of confusion
far beyond the juncture of cursory fright.
If this is collusion to drive me insane,
I beg deliverence from their echoing disdain;
Are these callous voices reality or delusion,
taunting me to plunge into depths of despair?
There is no hope of suturing my wounds,
or to eviscerate my harrowed heart.
If I could expunge them from my mind
would that ease the grief caused by the thief
who's bent on ripping my life apart?
Whispers are spilling from invisible lips.
How they tantalize me with false accusation.
My emotions are bereaved by the goading quips.
It's a conceived conspiracy of fallacious blather,
repeatedly mocking me in condemnation.
They've branded me with hot tongues they wield,
burning scars in my ears. Chars that will not heal.
If only I could douse memory's flames. I'm curious
to know if doing so would eliminate this torment.
My body is beaten, slashed by blades of driving rain.
Like shards of glass each raindrop cuts
my skin until blood seeps from the crux of my soul
and life drips away in scarlet flux.
I am wracked with sobs, prostrate with weeping.
And still the hissing voices berate me.
My head is pounding from their petition of jeers.
but I've no confession to give, nor act of contrition.
"Not guilty," I scream, but they won't let me be.
A vortex eddies around my bare feet
and my breathing grows shallow as whispers fade.
Dawn's warm fingers reach out to comfort me,
breaching the darkness on a cobble stone street.
June 25, 2018
8 word challenge-1.Fallacious 2.Eviscerate 3. Curious
4. Bewilder 5. Plunge 6. Tantalize 7. Vortex 8. Scarlet
John Hamilton~host
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