Long Bombast Poems
Long Bombast Poems. Below are the most popular long Bombast by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bombast poems by poem length and keyword.
" Scream, Ann, scream! Scream like you've never screamed before!"
I saw their eyes, wide like turkey eggs
for his bombast had provided us sneers.
Just what is it he expects her to see
that would leave her shaking, in tears?
" Have any of you ever heard of..Kong?"
There it is! This is it! The man's a fool!
He's off for a film so they'll be thrilled!
This ship is a tramp, not proper or trim.
He'll wind up getting all of us killed.
" All hands on Deck! All Hands on Deck!"
She's gone! Oh my God! She's gone!
Now what do we do? Hand out the guns!
Is there enough bullets for them all?
I still wonder: are we the only ones?
" Come on! Who's going with me?!!"
I can't believe the size of it! The size!!
It's a mirage! It must be a nightmare!
It's carried her off out in that jungle!
My hands feel cold. We'd better beware.
I might be lucky. I'm staying behind.
I shot it. I know I did!
" I tell you, skipper, this Kong is as big as a house!"
I slip up by Denhams' side to hear about
Kong and these dragons and there's more!
I thought those things were dead and gone
Suppose one of them comes to this door?
" Kong's Coming! Kong! Kong!"
I heard the gong! Oh my God! It's Kong!
He followed Driscoll and Ann right here.
We've taken up arms! We've bolted the door!
I wish I could be somewhere and not here.
He's In! He's Loose! Run! Run!
EXPLOSION! I turn
Kong stops. He staggers.
He's down.
I hear Denham shout:
" Come On. I Got Him!
We'll teach him fear! We're millionaires, boys!
Kong! The EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD!"
I never slept all those weeks back.
Gunshots and whips from the hold
It's a mistake to bring this thing back.
Denham is foolish and brazen and bold.
EPILOGUE:
I shipped out right after we docked.
I pour another shot, look out to the sea.
The mate just told me the news
over the wireless:
Kong is loose in New York.
I wonder where Denham is...
By Then It Be To Late
By Roy Merritt
I suppose it isn’t just people subject to intoxication
If your citizens all taking toxins apt be your nation
How eager a man be to martyr himself for a fool
How easy he lose his morals how easy he be cruel
It could never happen here that’s what I read
At least that’s what the title of Lewis’s book said
But indeed it did a huckster came to power
And led the nation from its principals turned them bitter, sour
H. L. Mencken said it best his words befitting of the times
His opinion of the common man how Mencken him defined
Democracy but a theory the common know his desire
And deserve it good and hard and never to retire
For no man ever went broke that underestimate
The taste of the average man his wont of crude debate
And though full of Puritan lust a fear haunts him long
That some be enjoying his life, family, love and home
Of course they not his words I merely paraphrase
But I think Mencken excuse me if he about these days
Give me some courtesy the benefit of the doubt
I essentially said the same thing he was on about
So lets see what we’ve got after four years of deception
Whether we sober up and develop some true perception
Whether we like many nations recent, in the past
And succumbed to tyranny fall victim to bombast
Many in times of pain when in depths of despair
Will fall for a fool's words and follow him anywhere
Will follow everywhere follow him to their doom
Will follow a lunatic who promise to end their gloom
They’ll follow him down the road follow to the abyss
And none along the way realize something be amiss
We love our leader they declare as poison they imbibe
And drink they will like Socrates the potion of suicide
Oh this hemlock simply fine it does me persuade
And I’ll enjoy every drop of it even unto the grave
But once beneath the ground and he has sealed his fate
He has no chance to recover his senses by then it be to late
Government (show) Shut Down December 2018
Messianic Don found tarnished appeal
trumpeted bluster thwarted
with muted (hip hip hooray) Democratic zeal
played (on microscale) like quashed
ill fated braggadocio big deal
bombast, sans General George Armstrong
Custer's last stand,
viz Little Bighorn, achilles heel,
where Native Americans
showed deadly steel
against cocksure doodling
haughtiness didst conceal
Yankee sited in cross hairs,
who got comeuppance,
whence his notorious
reputation did never heal,
thus markedly high light
ting (albeit in deadly fashion) might
whooped, undermined, and
served just desserts,
when forces of the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne,
and Arapaho tribes did unite
defending their turf against
7th Cavalry Regiment of the
United States, mauled as bloody sight,
which justified comeuppance,
and whipped up white
settlers fury like an inferno doth ignite
combustible material showing
no mercy toward "red men"
unleashing brutal, short
and nasty genocidal spite
long a tragic footnote in history
proves tummy at hefty price
that present swaggering presidential chieftain
more'n halfway thru administration thrice
occasions brought third "shut down"
(the first time in more than 40 years)
during his opprobrious term,
now got meted "no dice"
cuz commander in chief usurped, provoked,
and kickstarted retaliatory actions, I.C.E.
suspect, where staunch stonewalling tactics
unexpectedly found paunchy big boy lice
sensed to shame, name and blame Congress
i.e. as he thrust forward power,
and hood did launch
bully tactics doth evince,
how he does not play "nice"
demanding five billion dollars for
pet project wall barring Mexicans
(and other asylum seekers south
of the border) did not entice
unanimous concurrence thus sets device
sieve ness roundly shows
Trump doth need strong cussed hard advice!
Brainstorming (For Me) Generates "Writer's Block"
Lesson obstruction,
but more so an over
whelming flood of ideas
makes dredging, conceiving
than giving birth
to an amenable notion
more difficult than grabbing,
(even a tony tiger) by the tail,
who readily admits
said titled quasi moniker
denoting onset, sans
(to experience authorial dearth)
of satisfactory acceptable theme
(first to pinpoint, than expound)
more accurate generalization
cerebral struggle
regularly visits this Earth
ling, when embarking upon
a literary creative enterprise,
thus gluttonous analogy
to swollen girth
after gorging ravenous
appetite on verge
to keel (crushing
screened iron curtain garrison)
over 'pon arduously
(belching at every
step, viz process),
while lumbering
to heavenly hearth,
(a Homeric Odyssey) filling
the dining hall with mirth,
thus, I hoop fur
ewe dear reader,
spending your time
whiz wool worth
the effort receiving insight about,
how this logophile really
haint goot much clout
to boast, (nor doth,
he...wrack his mind
to coon sitter) himself devout
lee gifted, (cuz...he aint),
nor does yours truly
make pretenses to flout
any arrogance, bombast,
conceit, et cetera,
yet avers pain
staking effort
(akin to sinking grout)
to plug up gushing geyser of
superfluous excess bursting,
competing, and exploding
beyond capacity of this lout
finding me (a
piggish porcine – person)
hogtied with no
recourse but to pout
reaching pig tailed wits end,
as pertains to this poetic scout,
who welcomes inspirational uber lyft
through swiftly tailored
harried sty hill.
Signature
Append the seal on the opening glee
Of performance agog with clapping drums,
The cylindrical bell calling to spirituous mundi
Screaming flew about in the air;
Perched on ears
And pecked on fertile hearts,
Consider not the frightened feet
Aching at commencement,
Wind to experiment, explore and applied
The agility in acrobatic anger
Of stretching sweating flesh,
Rhythmical muscles drawn vein taut
To the last drop of dew,
Hoofs prancing, prancing and prancing!
Ejaculating on the polished wood
With a millionth impregnated marbles spread tentacles,
Atomic spermatozoa bombast the uterus
Colonized the ovary and eke out
Inside, the embryonic yokes;
Suspended by clear albumen,
Fetal poles march strength with fallopian tubes,
Cavity swallowed them into humid sac
Plush pollen grains into zygotes
Springing anew buds in May,
Conceive earthlings with several asking branches
A lot of libraries;
A particular slanted eyeball
Began rumbling belch, lightening guffaw and thundering hiccup,
Tugging at umbilical chords,
Breathe knocking placenta on the head
And efflux out of the duress,
Spectra Butterflies flagging multi-coloured limbs
Faculty spiraling, twirling and tossing on elastic trunk,
Laser flashing touches swam in oceanic atmosphere,
Eager ritual leap of the gods,
Dagger usher out from scabbard
Plunge into dimple ample
Tip oozes indigo gore,
Sources of springing magenta
Began the back and forth stabbing,
Scribbling on the whitish flesh
Ink on tones of barks, bereft,
Spat spittle connived, reed shook together
Vein drawn to bursting,
Adaptation to suit thumb and forefinger
Pour the concoction, pour on the root.
I came to poetry a novice, a neophyte, a fledgling
oh sure, I had written as a child . . .
but that was just the writing of a tenderfoot
as my life became more grievous and woeful
I found myself mournful and melancholy with a
a dolorous melody replaying over and over in my head
the years of repression and suppressed pain, and denial
had left me with shyness and inhibition . . .
I needed to write my sorrowfulness but felt a barrier
confused and struggling with my thoughts and words
I would flounder, fumble, tumble and stumble
with fear- then, I took the plunge . . .
I had spent a lot of time in the beginning reading poetry
most poems were beautiful or lovely sensual rhapsodies
but many were just big words extravagant to me . . .
some just a pompous bombast of rage and ranting
lecherous and blustering and well not my style
I wanted to write poems with depth in every form possible
but, I read on and inside me a fire burned . . .
it had no flame but was just a glowing smolder simmering
I suppressed my passion until I was totally ready
the timely care and preparation served me well . . .
and with divine providence- I let my pen drip on white
it dripped and dripped until it was bleeding words, syllables, phrases
finally, I was able to set my emotions free . . .
____________________________
May 21, 2019
Poetry/Free Verse/Taking The Poetry Plunge
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1145-887-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the Eight Word Free Verse Challenge
sponsor, John Hamilton
Second Place
Alas, My God has sentence the serpent to hell;
There in which there’ll be no ringing of church bells;
I witness the dawn of an upset;
You ole demon why you beget;
Thunder roars angels at holy wars;
Civilized beings dying souls;
Someone wants to be like GOD, someone wants to be over GOD;
One can’t be greater that the creator;
Get back you demon you gonna get yours;
Devil’s inhibition man’s feelings of dolorous sorrows and distress;
Mighty Lucifer has fallen, kick down to earth by Archangel Michael;
Man worship the creator, not the moons cycle;
Sinner’s demons and men lecherous lustful bombast;
Lucifer outcast, put out down at last;
Lucifer Satan placed in hell to smolder-burn slowly with smoke and flame;
No salvation for him in Jesus name, unrepentive sinners think it’s a joke, hell fire rain;
Providence calls God will and still reigns,
All the angels seem to sing;
Mankind needs to repent on and all with Godly sorrow;
With the protective care of God All POWER, of nature as a spiritual power;
I’m dolorous feeling great sorrow and distress;
I flounder and struggle as I stagger helplessly, clumsily in my sins I’ve enlist;
Inhibition self-conscious and I’m unable to act in a relaxed state I FEAR;
A neophyte this Christianity is news and new to me this belief is it real;
Get thee, behind me Satan lite in Hell Hallelujah, Hallelujah I’m a child of the King;
5/24/19
For Eight word free verse Challenge Poetry Contest
Free verse poetry form only..
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
I came to poetry a novice, a neophyte, a fledgling
oh sure, I had written as a child . . .
but that was just the writing of a tenderfoot
as my life became more grievous and woeful
I found myself mournful and melancholy with a
a dolorous melody replaying over and over in my head
the years of repression and suppressed pain, and denial
had left me with shyness and inhibition . . .
I needed to write my sorrowfulness but felt a barrier
confused and struggling with my thoughts and words
I would flounder, fumble, tumble and stumble
with fear- then, I took the plunge . . .
I had spent a lot of time in the beginning reading poetry
most poems were beautiful or lovely sensual rhapsodies
but many were just big words extravagant to me . . .
some just a pompous bombast of rage and ranting
lecherous and blustering and well not my style
I wanted to write poems with depth in every form possible
but, I read on and inside me a fire burned . . .
it had no flame but was just a glowing smolder simmering
I suppressed my passion until I was totally ready
the timely care and preparation served me well . . .
and with divine providence- I let my pen drip on white
it dripped and dripped until it was bleeding words, syllables, phrases
finally, I was able to let my emotions free . . .
________________________________
May 21, 2019
Poetry/Free Verse/Letting My Emotions Free
Copyright Protected, ID 19- 1214-201-02
All Rights Reserved, Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Strand Select 4
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
Plaids.docx
Plaids
Satan and Daniel
one last word
“Checked or checkered worsted or suited to be nude under your clothing is transparent apparently non existent to my naked eye think this will be easily my last try Daniel answer me what is the last word” ? “Remember it means your soul against your long and sinful life”. Daniel shuffled his feet there was only a long silent night. “Away over there in the manger”, the Devil began to sing. “Stop that” was from Daniel, “How do you expect me now to think” ? “eye need a drink a stiff one or both, ? eye need to THINK!!! The merciless Devil began to sing louder “Baby Jesus in the Carriage rhymes with perfect Marriage” yes you never married Daniel Webster but you played the bombast lots of times. Tell me now this one last test of time repeat after me “the last word is now just fill in the blank for your life ; at this the Devil Satan rocked back and forth in a Mimicry of him and then HE smiled. You always defeat me so quickly so smug in your Lawyers britches. While Christians die naked and stoned in the bull rushes of “GOD”. Daniel was smiling now. The Devil slapped his hand up over his mouth TOO LATE he realized just what he had done. Daniel seized the day. “GOD” is the last word howsoever you say it Jesus or Our Father the last word is “GOD”. Then the Devil rode a giant lightening rod back up to the Heavens and Daniel did his little Webster definition of a dance shuffle full of saving Grace. He shot his cuff out and buffed his sleeve and looked down at his Plaids.
There is a solace in his silence, a servant of his solitudes,
As he comforts in compliance, a jester to the multitudes…
He stands alone a neophyte, struggling within his confines,
Actions that do excite, impugnable inhibition when he signs.
Master of the satirical sad, a foreordained flounder of many,
Like a narcotized nomad, wandering wills a penniless plenty…
A calamitous circus in mind, his heart exposed in the limelight,
Dolorous detentions unkind, amidst filling his formidable finite.
A bombarding bombast, with words falling to the desolate deep,
Sailing with a maudlin mast, wearing a facetious frown as to weep…
Layered with lecherous lashes, upon wounding the sacrificial soul,
His anguish turns to ashes, within continuation of his dramatic role.
A buffoon protected by providence, metamorphic minstrel of laugh,
Lacking in canopied confidence, recklessly writing his eternal epitaph…
As he mimes until the morrows, living amongst a false fading reality,
With a smolder to his sorrows, court jesting as a nilpotent nobody.
May.23.2019
By Winged Warrior...^WW^
Not for any contest
Inspired by John Hamiltons contest...
Eight-word free verse challenge
Written & Composed by Winged Warrior
Using-A male virtual voice
Background music-Pavarotti in the Italian opera-
a prologue (Il Pagliacci)-'The Clown'
Composed by Ruggero Leoncavallo...Opera title~"Teatro Dal Verme"