Long Boorish Poems
Long Boorish Poems. Below are the most popular long Boorish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boorish poems by poem length and keyword.
Animistic descent from sanity
Boorish attitude, sense of lost control
Crawl out of your skin, bloody vanity
Darkness claws like a black hole
Eternal uncertainty wreaks mayhem
Freedom not given, glued to midnight
Glutton of attention, cannot condemn
Hungry for life, all bark and no bite
Insanity placed on my sweating forehead
Justification, she’s just sick
Killjoy I may be, the day I dread
Labels in my throat choke me quick
Meaningless apologies, see from my eyes
Nights of liquid lucidity, a dull mind by day
Oh the pain, its thorns shred my heart and thighs
Persistent thoughts, worries carried away
Question my identity, a woman without a face
Remember happiness, a fleeting memorial
Scars on my ribs, my heart’s knives trace
Tears on my face, struggles sensorial
Ugly feelings of hate, daily reprise
Veins of ice or so it feels, words tongue-tie
With echoing sighs my dream dies
Xenolith, smile covered, stifled outcry
Yearning for a hand to hold on to
Zealous recovery, fail and reverse
Interrupting a person in a rude way
Makes me irritable much of the day.
I do not yell and scream or even say.
But it makes my heart unhappy and gray.
I would rather be alone, sitting without a word
Than to be interrupted, which is totally absurd.
It shows a lack of manners, empathy or technique.
It’s something that only a boorish person would seek.
“Excuse me!” is ridiculous when they decide to interrupt.
It makes me angry. My bad feelings are ready to pop and erupt.
Pretending to be mannerly when you are in every way rude.
Makes me angry, positive proof that you have the wrong attitude.
He was a shabby, mean, mouthy and nasty boy
chasing after cats dragging along his buddy Mccoy;
and they both were slim and handsome but laughed a lot
when they ate corned beef and cabbage from a large pot.
" Keith, don't forget to feed the cats,
I've bought another bag from the supermarket,
and please don't eat their food...they aren't biscuits! "
" Okay, mom I'll feed them and won't forget. "
Everyone in the neighborhood considered them evil,
Irene, the red-headed gal, called them hoodlums;
the elderly locked their doors saying, " Go to hell! "
The town had become an armory of brooms.
Their aunt Agata used to say, " They were such nice boys in their teens,
now they hunt cats uphill and cage them as tigers and feed them frogs and weeds;
" Enough, enough scoundrels...I'll hit you with my long broom from left to right
even when you tie the knot in that church with a beautiful, naive bride! "
" Uh, uh!" The cat hunters replied with a defiant, boorish frown,
" Try to chase us, aunty...you'll never catch us, we dare you to race! "
" Stop, pretty boys...you are going to get Frankenstein's ugly face! "
They replied, " Go ahead! Go ahead! He was too big to run! "
All the kids that disliked them placed bananas peels all over the road leading to Kill,
and as they tried to flee from aunt Agata, they fell on them and went downhill....
hitting their faces on pine needles that poked deep and made them bleed;
" I got you, rascals," she happily screamed..." Now, say your sorry creed! "
About That Certain Thing Called Nonsense
Nonsense is that certain symbolic communication form
that oft pervades our human space with its absurdity!
All of us from time-to-time have had to deal with some
people who revel and rave in it to provoke a response.
Making sense and communicating in an intelligent fashion,
reflects a spirit of human decency that’s so needed at times.
“Nonsense!” used as an exclamatory pronouncement inheres
a necessary tone of disagreement to stop boorish behavior.
“Nonsense” in a whimsical use can tickle one’s funny bone,
whilst creating, at times, a much-needed spirit of amusement!
And so, “Nonsense” as part of our grand human condition,
may not be all bad, except when some choose to be naughty!
Nonsense is an important part of life because it brings us to
a certain view, which should be of no surprise: C’est la vie!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
December 9, 2018 (Couplet)
O, elvenstone! O, elvenstone!
O, would that you could be my own.
To quest exhausted, all these years,
And not obtain those pointy ears
To sharpen sense, to hear my phone.
O battle axe! O battle axe!
For thy pursuit, my patience lacks.
Through garbage bins in fishing wharves,
Midst arguments with boorish dwarves;
My neighbor’s tree needs forty whacks.
Fine coat of mail, thy filigree
Would sure enhance the likes of me.
So tightly woven, silver, pale
Protect unwanted barbs’ assail
When getting honey from my bees.
Thou mighty blade, enchanted runes
Do grace thy hilt but not those hewn.
Sure, separating sinew, bone,
Ne’er losing edge in dirt or stone,
When Saturday, the hedge I prune.
I think that we can both agree:
When I immerse in D&D,
I get so caught up in the game,
Imagination is to blame;
Sometimes I blur reality.
----------
RPG - role playing game - I used to play Dungeons and Dragons some 40 years ago when you used dice and mapped everything out on graph paper. I imagine things have changed a bit since then...
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.
Tattered clobbered thoughts streaming to winged dusts,
spiral spasms tremble amid weary sounds.
The festal moods swing dreary interludes,
visions ache release with defloration--
throaty cries heightens the greedy man's lust.
He longs to possess the murmur of blood
from naked images throbbing desires,
it surges -- tinged to his cerebellum.
Dark libertine drained his desirous juice--
madness stings deep-- displayed to his ardor.
Boorish bashfulness etched into each itch
cracking unto his left to right onslaught.
Finitude fair Venus choked with disgust
as she wriggles, wriggles to free herself!
Her wriggles useless from black libertine...
Pristine Venus fallen-- now wanting death.
©O. E. Guillermo
5:15pm December 05, 2014
Sponsor Giorgio A. V.
Contest Name Structured forms - Iambic verse - Sketch a fictitious character - (Top Gun Poetry)
Placed 6th
Zephyrus, mighty God of wind, slips over western slopes
to nudge the winter, in quick adieu, ..unfurled against the blue.
He is husband of Khloris, a goddess of the green
He is father of the fruited vine, and all the fruited trees
which bend and bow to every breeze, that curl around his head.
The stalky lupines long for him to take away the chill,
while blue wild flax, will wave and swoon, upon the purple hills.
A colored carpet wide and deep, is sweeping to the eye
with clover green, so fragrant, lush, and it reaches to the sky
to feel the depth of warming breath, exhaled with just his sigh
His warming breath embraces youth, and jealousy is kin
Appollon's love for Hyakinthos, may bring a tragic end
We must ignore his boorish pride, for he thaws the frozen land
and takes command when springtime comes, when green is in demand
_________________________________________________
For the Contest sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
Zephyrus.....God of the West Wind
1/1/15 http://www.theoi.com/Titan/AnemosZephyros.html (Greek Gods)
She was set up on a bind date with a nontalking beast.
He was clever but she did not know this in the least.
They walked in silence to a party where she knew the host.
Oh! You brought a black cat! Said the curious ghost.
He is my date, she told the ghost with a flourish.
His name is Salamander, and he is rather boorish.
She said this in a whisper for she did have a tiny heart.
They danced the macarena and he let out a big fart.
He is gassy! She whispered to a mummy named Ed.
So what? Ed whispered back. I am smelly and dead.
He had a point, so she decided to relax and have fun.
And spoil alert for their dates, this was not their only one.
The child allowed to have their way,
And do whatsoever they may,
Who is not taught to have restraint,
Develops traits that their life taint.
The rule of appetite destroys,
And undermines life’s lasting joys.
It makes the human being a slave,
To whatever his passions crave.
Instead of reason taming urge,
Unruly urges reason scourge.
The man becomes a boorish brute,
Unanchored from his soulish root.
The home should be a training ground,
Where order reigns and love abounds.
Here children learn how they should live,
As parents sound instructions give.
When parents fail their job to do,
Society pays a high price too,
with citizens who lack the traits
That makes a nation truly great.
So many lives are ruined wastes,
Destroyed by drugs that make minds race.
Because of lack of self-control,
Men wreck their lives and lose their souls.
The quest for power, wealth, and fame,
Becomes for some a raging flame.
They live their life to make a name,
But often their life ends in shame.
Don’t let your body rule your brain,
let brain over your passions reign.
Make it your goal to become good,
To be the best a human could.