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 speak
without considering people's feelings--
BITE TONGUE!
I wink
foolishly in attempt to do a wicked plan--
NO LUCK!
I smack
my lips teasingly and annoyingly--
SOW LIPS!
I think
before I prank on my siblings--
DON'T EVEN!
I joke
around until I receive a laugh--
HA-HA...
I cry
out to get attention--
SHUT UP!
I chew
on my food loudly to irritate others--
CLOSE MOUTH!
I snap
my fingers in silliness--
QUIT IT!
I sneak
into my sister's room with a wake-up call--
GET OUT!
I write
in gibberish verses--
ERASE!
I type
my gibberish verses on Poetrysoup--
DELETE!!!!!!
I laugh
because I already posted my poem--
YOU FOOL!
I got
what I deserved--
A WACK!!!
I slam
my fist-shaped hands in sudden anger--
TRY ME!
I glare
at my bossy sister in disapproval--
WHAT BRO?
I close
my mouth so I won't say another word--
GOOD BOY!
How many times do I start to quickly and easily reply
To a comment and realize with a humdrum of a sigh
That it has become part of a poem insisting to be let out
So I hurry to a blank page, and throw it down with a shout.
And how many times do I stare at this stuff
And wonder where it has come from, it’s sordid and gruff.
Is there a monster residing inside my pea brain?
One who will not release me until we reach the refrain.
But I am no songwriter, you protest as she takes over your head.
Hush little baby, she says. Commandeers and is bossy with pencil red.
You are irritated beyond reason, but aggressive she is in charge now.
How many of the rest of you have a muse who is a strong dairy cow?
Freda's an obnoxious old woman
She‘d say loudly ‘I want it right now’
Her long suffering husband Timothy
covertly called her a bossy old cow!
Each weekend they’d both go shopping
Freda would always jump the queue,
declaring in her brash whiny voice
that she’s bursting to go to the loo!
Poor Timothy would stand there
his face turning a shade of bright red,
she’d say ‘just get on with the packing’
and give him a cuff round his head!
Last week she pushed in front of me
and then gave me such a nasty glare,
Timothy stood looking embarrassed
perhaps wishing that he wasn’t there
Still, I ended up having the last laugh
when the manager came over to me
Saying you’re our millionth customer
so everything is your trolley’s for free!
Freda jumped up and down like a banshee
exclaiming loudly that this just wasn’t fair -
that she’d ONLY swapped places with me
meaning she should’ve really been there
Timothy seethed and said shut the duck up
(Freda looked like she’s about to explode) ...
He said ‘maybe this will teach you a lesson’
and he turned on his heels with their load!
This couple no longer go shopping
(last I heard Tim’s seeking a divorce)
He’s moved back in with his mother
and spends weekends on the golf course!
Fiction Poem – just having a giggle
04/12/20
When it comes to me, my personality, my attitude, my confidence, just me in general - It’s No Matter
It’s No Matter what you say - If you say I think I’m all dat - And do
It’s No Matter how you feel - If you feel I’m bossy, I’m demanding, I want things my way… No lies told, I’m not no regular degular, I’m da Goat, TF
It’s No Matter what you think - If you think I’m doing the most, that’s cause you doing da least
And when I say it’s No Matter, it’s No Matter!
So ion’t know what type of time you on and who don’t like it, but just know, I’m still gon do me. So if you got a problem with me, move around and find somethin’ safe ta do. Just saying!
It all began as normal
The fiddler's practice session.
Lively rousing tunes
Were his prime obsession.
A frog leapt suddenly with a croak
On the final rise of the bow.
" Keep playing! We'll collaborate! "
He ordered with a bellow.
The fiddler laughed and asked the frog,
" Do you know any songs? "
With widened eyes, patience worn thin,
He yelled, " Just play! I'll croak along! "
He did just so and to his surprise
They harmonised quite well.
Though the frog was bossy and rather rude,
The fiddler fell under his spell.
Since their first rehearsal
The local towns and pubs they tour.
The fiddler obeys the frogs commands
So his ears don't get sore.
Written 18th January 2023
For: The Fiddler and The Frog Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
I believe- and there will be many who disagree, and
my belief is this- when we are born a soul is given to us
that first cry announces it, we are here
and from that moment two exist
the soul grows with us and stays with us
until we die in this realm of Earth
in that last dying gasp, the soul leaves the body
and the body becomes nothing but an empty shell
we grieve over that body where once dwelled a soul
the soul travels up and exists in another realm we cannot understand
the baby soul is talking but the baby only responses to needs
the little child starts to hear the inner talking
that talking just gets louder and louder as we age
my soul is very chatty . . . .
is it a female voice? a male voice? I really cannot tell
but inside me is a voice called soul, alive and well
the soul wants to make a difference, to leave an imprint
to say loudly, I was here . . . .
to turn it off- I meditate and think of nothingness
it keeps trying to invade my tranquility
but I push it away, be quiet for a moment, please
my soul is conscious all the time, yes, even in dreams
it is telling me things all day long
when I am sad, so is my soul
when I weep, it weeps too
when I am heartbroken, my soul is broken
when I am happy, it sings within me
my life has been a tangled garden
and my soul has many scars
my soul watches when I write giving me the words I need
it loves to meander forests and pick wildflowers
oh- it can be very bossy too, do this, don't do that
I don't know what to do.......
at times I must quiet the internal chatter
but it finds a way, always it finds a way to let me know
you are not alone in this journey called life
and I know when my last gasp comes and my beloved weep
my soul will leave this Earthly body, and
will live for all eternity but in another realm we do not understand
many will not agree with me, and will protest strongly
but this is- what I believe
__________________________
May 12, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/My Soul
Copyright Protected, ID 16-789-068-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
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.
Discipleship is giving unconditionally
Expecting no acknowledgement or thank you,
Hoping the person or people will understand Jesus' light.
Discipleship is listening without criticism
Not suggesting, not commanding,
Learning and sending light like the Holy Spirit does.
Discipleship is introducing rather than leading
Discipleship is inviting rather than demanding
Discipleship is allowing people to make up their own minds
Discipleship is encouragement.
Discipleship is helping, nurturing, loving.
Discipleship is not being bossy or demanding in any way.
Those who come to Godliness in their own time
In their own way bring the most to the table.
For they have been in other places, and can
teach by example as you have.
Trixie, who loves orange, is today clog-dancing.
Her ready exhibitions are becoming so frequent many
poets would be embarrassed
My poems are super confident, so I go along with my enthusisatic minion.
Trixie is thrilled with our stuff.
All prissy delightful, not wanting to edit anything.
Please let us not use "I and me, again," I beg her.
So overdone I tell her.
She laughs and stomps on my finger that was heading for the delete button.
Our top five themes are dragons, pirates, orange, Trixie and me.
A bit boring, I tell her. Let's try some new material.
Trixie gets angry and gets out her battle axes.
She leaves my dendrite alley in despicable shape, hanging in pieces.
She saturates the walls of my imagination with
Sexy, sassy, orange, and yellow. Sexy! Come on! I yell. She howls happiness.
I watch in fascination as she grabs the pen and does her damage.
The bossiest orangest most polka dotted craziest poetic muse ever.
I count on her energetic bossy attitude almost daily.
Memories lie strewn like scented petals
Emitting sweet fragrance, they tickle my senses,
Taking me to the time, when after a long wait
We got a gift overdue, lifting our joy to excesses.
Into our nest a birdie came, tender and treasured,
Chirping incessantly, making our dusky days bright
My first born, a baby boy, a late arrival
Who altered my life and made me soar like a kite.
Another came after three years,
As a late-night guest, giving us added joy
Excitedly we watched our little boys run and play
As our house rang loud with laughter and cry.
Elder one was bossy, still they were true brothers
Grew up to be our pride and joy, bringing cheer
No noisy brawl as the younger was obliging
They rarely quarrelled, preferred to be together
The ash laden cinders of our heart blazoned with our sons’ arrival
The elder one was hyperactive and was quite inquisitive
He would ask- “Why rain always falls down and never goes up”
Questions- making the answers less by definitive.
Once when l was holding the little one in my hands
The elder asked- “Of the two, who do you love more”
I could see a trace of sibling jealousy flashing on his face
I fell silent, but knew it was a question I couldn’t ignore
Drawing him closer, after a pause, I answered
You both have place in my heart that no one can take
When you win, my heart sings in joy, when you fall
I come to lift you, when misbehave, my heart, you break.
If you stay a sweet child as you are now,
My heart will have equal space for you and your brother
With all doubts cleared, I saw a glitter glimmer in his eyes
He nestled closer, with no more fears to bother.
.