Long Bossy Poems
Long Bossy Poems. Below are the most popular long Bossy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bossy poems by poem length and keyword.
I am confounded, confused, truly perplexed
By people who are selfish and mean.
Were they abandoned in bathroom stalls?
Did they have to survive on a cold tile floor?
Was their world so cruel that they think only of themselves?
I am confounded, confused, truly perplexed
By people who are bossy and belligerent.
Do they think this is the way to influence you?
To make you a friend? To straighten you out?
Why is their way the only way?
Were they raised by alcoholics? Not able to change their sad childhoods?
I am confounded, confused, truly perplexed
By people who are perpetually angry and grouchy.
Do they never find their bliss? Do they frighten away their soul mates?
Do they not know that sadness is at the root of their anger?
Why do they not reach out for help? Do they trust no one?
Were they raised in houses where mothers held I-pads instead of them?
I am confounded, confused, truly perplexed by depression,
Anxiety, and grief. These feelings are terrifying for me. I am
An empath, so I have to stay away from these feelings. I hope
You understand. If my empathy perplexes you, I get it.
A mural painter? Why not? I asked myself.
My husband was inside, glued to a Lazy-Boy recliner
watching five TVs simultaneously.
He would not have a fit about something he did not see, right?
How often does he come to the porch anyway?
I began to plot out my legacy, something to leave the family.
To reassure them that their assessment of me is sound.
I am crazier than a mouse running into a cat’s mouth.
I was grinning as wide as I have ever grinned, as I plotted.
Drawing my ideas out in full scale, with pencil.
What to plan? Faeries, dragons, witches, gypsies, unicorns too.
All of my canvases are done in cartoon form; I am a natural at this.
I wanted more colors though, at least twenty of them.
I took inventory of my mural paints – red, black, gold, green, pink, blue.
Ordered sixteen more colors; this is going to be gloriously gaudy.
My sister came over when I was drawing the idea out in pencil.
It was going to be large; fifty feet long; covering the entire back of the house.
“I wouldn’t paint siding if I were you,” she said prissily.
Good thing she isn’t me, isn’t it?
And good thing she did not know my husband was home.
She is a tattle-tale in addition to being brazenly bossy.
Curiosity perhaps killed many a cat
For a cat it is an inquisitive brat
All life poor thing it shall rummage through trash
Spring on the dinner table and the diner might bash!
Famous might be a Tom cat for those famed nine lives
but not much help is that if in every danger it dives!
It's feline curiosity to crash-land it in trouble
for it tends to explore every kind of rubble.
Mr. feral puss for a fight and a wild-goose-chase.
Why forever look forward to yourself amuse and amaze?
In a cat basket he's likely to be struck with ennui
Perhaps his caretaker thought only of his fengshui?
His meowing screeching resonates in the valley
as he tussels with rival cats in the alley
Mr. Tom cat I tink I'll call you Mr. Sossy
but with feline femmes you're way too bossy
Wild and rough, with macho feral pride
I watch you tease and taunt in your typical stride.
No way is he kitty soft paws
Mr.sossy sure has the sharpest claws.
Sossy the tabby and fishy leftover fish pie
kissed the feline females and made them cry.
But my fav is my own cutie pussy darling so soft
even if she may raid the loft that's aloft
I am careful to not look under the mulberry bush at apartment five.
For that is where my meanest of mean great aunt Ginny Madeline lies.
She was bossy, a real shrew, who was always telling me what to do.
I have told no one else but I have decided to trust three friends and you.
You must realize she has been missing for six days and fifteen hours.
Uncle Fred has not noticed, hiding from her for years in his glass office towers.
The police have not come to investigate, her grandnieces are not looking.
I am rather proud of myself for doing her in so easy with my horrible awful cooking.
Creating a little list now of other people who should probably disappear.
Oh, you do not think that is nice? Well, my pretty, come closer, my little dear.
In case you do not know, I have a murdering side that is terrible and bad.
I imagine there will be hundreds who wish they had never made me mad.
Words now appear
From the thin air
Now crystal clear
Words swirl sounding
Like cryptic fare
In fond leaping
~~~~~~~~~
Words dance around
Like cheeky clowns
Once lost now found
Words feed frenzy
Jump up and down
Mad and crazy
~~~~~~~~~
Words of a sort
Lines of poetry
Crosses and dots
Words in a surge
Feel so bossy
Spread thoughts that merge
~~~~~~~~~
Words jerk and tell
Hurl emotions
Charm like a spell
Words craft and plot
Harsh commotion
Squeeze parking lots
~~~~~~~~~
Words bold yet stern
Blaze with hot fire
Upset and burn
Words crush complete
Thorns choke desire
Plain yet discrete
~~~~~~~~~
Words on a page
In chic patterns
Turn and upstage
Words slide away
Oozing concerns
Poke fun at play
~~~~~~~~~
Swipe away gripe
Let heart be light
Eat your fruit ripe
Rhyme in a line
Mind claims new sight
Feelings limp fine
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
29 September 2014
Singapore
In my special child’s room, delightfully cozy
There watches Smidgeburner, his ape stuffed toy, cuddly fuzzy
Alongside prettisome guru, chimpanzee Betzy
Donning a hat declaring “God does not bless the lazy!”
Then Smidgeburner, a.k.a Smidge becomes busy
Tidying the bed-zoo against being messy
Guru Betzy supervises, never bossy
Smiling, she commends, “Wow; room’s not lousy!”
While cleaning, Smidge feels tired and dizzy
Turning jovial mood into a sickening frenzy...
Betzy counsels, “Working well never makes one crazy”
So she hums a tune that invites good air, soothingly breezy.
As Smidgeburner rests in their secured haven, warmly grassy
Betzy, the loving lovely guardian, is not anymore uneasy.
Concluding the monkey-tale, I hug my boy who’s now drowsy
Thanking God* for pacifying his spasm epilepsy.
*2Chronicles 5:13 …praising and thanking the LORD; …For he is good; for his mercy endureth for ever.
March 13, 2019
1st place, "The Smidget Puggily and Her Prettisome Guru" Poetry Contest Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger; judged on 3/27/2019.
She was a tough witch until she met her new ebony kitty, Ink.
He sauntered in quietly, a tiny cute ball of fur with an adorable slink.
His arrogant, bossy, litter-mate siblings moved in, taking her to the brink.
They began an intimidating cat circle dance. One gave her a sharp wink.
This old crone had never felt this horrified or terrified in her yard before.
She sensed these meowing felines taste for flesh, horror and bloody gore.
Being around them made her feel scared, paralyzed, and terribly sore.
As they meowed their evil cat dance, running flat out, she hit the door.
These felines chased her up a mighty oak next to her house you see.
They cackled and danced and transmogrified into witches scary as could be.
She was intimidated until they invited her to join them for Eye of Newt tea.
And they taught her to transmogrify, so now sometimes a cat she can be.
Look at that! Look at that! Look at that!
We were in the nose bleed section.
I was busy watching the beauty on the trapeze.
Not caring about the rings at all.
My classmates were insanely bossy
Wanting everyone to look at the same thing
I was beyond annoyed. Wanting to watch the acrobat forever
We had cotton candy afterwards
No one could get out of the teacher’s line
We filed past elephants who were pooping.
I could have gone without seeing that
But everyone was screaming “look at that!”
The next time I go to the circus, it will be alone.
I will watch what I want to watch,
and it will not be the elephants.
You can count on that.
Daisy was such a bossy old cow,
one who desired to rule the herd.
Her opinions were so highbrow
the others dared not moo a word!
Daisy would moo and moo all day
whilst the others chewed their cud.
I dare not disclose the things she’d say
if amiable cows mated with the stud!
One day Daisy met up with the local bull
who really was a quite handsome chap.
She fluttered her lashes, being on the pull
but her constant sniping was a handicap!
He mated all others in the bovine brood
which put Daisy’s nose right out of joint.
He detested her for her rude attitude,
yet, she insisted on arguing the point!
Daisy was ill-bred and she’d never yield
so all the other cows chose to back away.
Bull turned on his hooves and left the field
leaving Daisy all on her own chewing hay!
Although Daisy was the farmer’s oldest
she was just as nasty as the farmer’s wife.
He complained the old cow was the coldest -
I wonder which of them caused more strife!
The farmer didn't suffer from guilt or derision
when the slaughtering man came into town.
He allowed the butcher to make the decision
as to which cantankerous cow he'd put down!
12/10/18
You could iron your blouse, her mama said,
Thinking this would impress Sue’s boyfriend.
But she did not know how,
He made a mental note of that.
You could make him a sandwich, her daddy suggested.
Not knowing she had never made a sandwich before.
He did not know how to not eat it, so he did, but slowly,
because it was awful.
He made a mental note of that.
You could take him to the barn and show him your 4-H project,
her grandma suggested.
She had apparently been growing marigold seeds in a dark barn, but
of course they would never grow there, needing sunlight, instead of a dark barn.
They were just dead seeds in the bottom of little cups of dirt
They had apparently given up.
He made a mental note of that.
Let’s get married, she suggested.
These people are all bossy here,
and they keep telling me how to do everything.
Apparently she was not a good listener.
He made a mental note of that too.
It was the last time she saw him.