Long Brutes Poems
Long Brutes Poems. Below are the most popular long Brutes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Brutes poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm learning not to embrace the frantic chase.
With things that are fleeter than me.
For things that wish not to be found.
For things that yearn to weave me to the frozen ground.
I'm learning to receive, graciously.
The things that may make you bleed.
Like love surrounded by white-hot fire.
Truth encased in blue blotted briar.
Peace is always worth the harshest sacrifice.
That doesn't mean I'll no longer engage.
To be that grand, golden giver.
It doesn't mean I've become a bitter quitter.
I'm still very much in the game.
I just lost the desire to keep score.
I'll be dispensing energy and shine more frugally.
Keeping company with dreams and gentle things.
Dodging the brutes and stained-glass boars.
Things that breathe just to bite and sting.
I pray the universe invites me to sample.
Its graceful rhythm and purity.
Of that sweet-sweet final sleep.
I will have to pay if I stay here another hour my lady. He told her whilest he waited for her to tip him . She told hinm the Inn keeper wished to have he and his brother stay as guest might they help bring wood in in the morning. Yes that would be fine he said but what of the exspence of supper dessert and breakfast, he if willing to pay for you to chore, labor for profit mind you he said. Thank you for the arangment. I must thank God and you that we are protected this night from the wilds of the elements and the Brutes who would take advantage of two lonely drifter in the rain. Yes as a woman I do understand, my freind has arrived and I am so glad to see exuse me sir. Yes my Lady. She is as lovely as an onion: and as freindly as a net of honey bee's. I can see she want someone to take her lugage to her room: I will do so kindly for a tip. Oh Doosty, yes my lady he creid to her knowing what she wanted before she had asked. He walked to them with is soaked hat in hand. My luggage please kind sir, she said yes my lady. He bentover to grab the bags and was met with a slp to the ass, "stout are we with a nice ass she said laughing, The tip is for the berry mind you she said laughing the laughed the whole way up the stairs. Her freind paid the tip in the room, a find and healty tip too I might add. She told him if he washed up later on she give him a ball bouncing time in the night if he wished to Rumpy Bumpy. I thought you and she were you know, we are you smirker Clam, you and your brother can can come up here and partner up with me and this Ole agal, they started laughing. Woopie and a roll in the hay. The tip should have told you I really like you, gone and rag that thing clean: i wanna love you later. I like em stout honey! She said. Ostinato the viloen shall play as we kiss and hold one another close. I can't wait my lady, I can't wait! He said. She told him romance is passing a couple pints around and getting hiccied up and when the gas runs out the lanterns are off!
Invisible to the naked eye
traumatization (courtesy
chastising and reproaching -
by fellow classmates
and later in life
birth parents and inlaws
dealt hefty figurative jab)
tremendously impacted yours truly
analogous to him moving bajillion miles away
compounded by his withdrawn demeanor
diagnosed when he reached middle adulthood
as schizoid personality disorder,
thus exhibiting obvious developmental delay
bullied courtesy nasty brutes,
who scapegoated and rejoiced
with hip hip hurray,
meanwhile I experienced
terrible psychological melee
escaping to safe confines of bedroom,
where I wanted to stay
for mine remaining years of life.
Retrospective review
now approaching my doddering old age
constituted more'n one cruel (cheap) trick
played on super tramping urchin,
who traipes across virtual global stage
ensnared within whorled webbed wide
spending his hard earned itty bitty wage
spinning one strand after another.
It's brandin' time once't agin in the corral at Triple "T".
The dogies have been cut from the herd after a frantic spree!
Cowboys sweated and cussed in suns reachin' a hun'ert degrees,
As they flushed 'em out of arroyos and groves of salt pine trees!
It will be a frenzied week or so on the Triple "T" spread.
Even seasoned hands anticipate it with consternation and dread!
A feller could bust some bones gittin' them wild dogies lassoed,
Wrestlin' them brutes to the ground a-tryin' to get 'em throwed!
In his reliable old cuttin' hoss the cowpoke has put his trust,
To help bring them wily critters down, a-sprawlin' in the dust!
After much bawlin' and kickin', the calf is at last subdued,
And is seared with the Triple "T" brand, forever to be tatooed!
The dusty old corral rings with raucous hollers and hoots,
As a cowboy gets kicked and goes sailin' head over boots!
His calloused hands and nose leave deep furrows in the earth.
He gets up shakin' his head and a-cussin' fer all he's worth!
Brandin' season's over, now he can return to fixin' fences,
Herdin' cattle and savorin' Colorady's mountains and expanses.
Ain't no gittin' 'round it, brandin' comes with a cowpokes career.
He'll be back in the corral a-ropin' and a-cussin' agin next year!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (©All Rights Reserved)
In Winter it's a new laid blanket of snow--
pristine, immaculate, innocent...holy.
Spring brings a softer air, at once
both fecund and perfumed, and
wildflowers leap into life, and trees
are reborn in gradients of green,
and life is temperate, gentle, fragile,
caught dangling between two brutes.
Summer feeds me: passion-hued
strawberries, fat blueberries, corn-
on-the-cob fit for kings and queens,
while fireflies dance and crickets sing
for our secret and quiet pleasure.
Now Autumn is different-- a season
to glory death and singe our unseen
immortal parts awake. The trees shed
their technicolor tears to lay a carpet
of sadness: by far the bravest season.
Incorrigible Recalcitrant - Doppelganger (mine)
Ala Goofus and Gallant
highlights my diametrically
divergent alter egos
always the reserved
obedient docile boy
afeared to stray outside narrow
circumscribed comfort zone
figuratively tethered
extremely short leash
choked me like yoked oxen,
albeit non red dually bullish
under bated breath
otherwise submissive
internalizing fury and rage
relentlessly lambasted
daily school bus ride
analogous highway to hell,
thus envisioned monstrous physique
linkedin to superpowers...
whereby giant beastie boy
within scrawny nerd
visiting jocular comeuppance
bopping "jocks" on their beanies
with rotten tangerines
(Tom Lehrer would be proud)
knocking senseless nasty brutes
gleefully pummeling rapscallions
casually, heroically avenging
purging immediate threat
while smugly jauntily
relishing carefree blessed awesome
fistpumping air joyous ride
duplicating bad ass daring
do dexterously doubling
(wishful) dream come true
one prior pipsqueak - yours truly
punishing pestiferous classmates,
who sadistically doled
out daily dose,
non USDA approved
cavalier fierce injustice
taken aback when mine knuckles
compress hoodlums opprobrious
wicked yakking (actually silenced)
fountainhead spewing toxins
exuberantly effusively ebulliently
cleaning principle ringleader's clocks
at long last
traumatizing measure for measure
antagonistic arch nemesis
inflicting insufferable torment
once passively quaffed ruffians threats,
now all's well that ends well,
no matter yours truly expelled
forever pleasantly humming
merrily merrily, merrily,
merrily, imagined life
tis but a dream.
Alas, in sports, circumstances looking grim
But, help spewed forth, this day,by installed clowns.
To be born a woman, comes forth a new spin?
You decrepit menaces of DC town!
Gigantic males, may compete in their games.
Female dummies will be used in crash tests?
Brutes, who tower over them with no shame
Female equity shining at is best??
True, we may not win trophies anymore.
Let’s see macho trans-men giving birth?
While females,dishonored in a crash-car?
Devoid of a single human on earth.
Note
Representative DeLauro…suggested female
dummies in crash cars. As if those used now,
were males?
Idea suggested to De Lauro(D)…..by:
The Prince of East Palestine:
Crown Prinnce, Peter Buttigieg
4/21/2023
Brutes, in name of God, to show their might,
fixed laws, that you’d succumb like measly sheep.
Womankind, kind woman, rise and fight.
Innocents of war with smiles once bright,
ravished; tossed like garbage in a heap,
angels hovering nigh have you in sight.
Faithful brides, for something less than trite,
set on fire in their beds as they sleep.
Kind woman, womankind, your soul‘s in flight.
Girls in huts, legs spread, cry out in fright.
A ritual to mutilate cuts deep.
Angels from on high do hear your plight.
Wives in their own homes (not all is right),
beaten, hush their children not to weep.
Womankind, kind woman, comes the night. . . .
Sisters, don’t be wearied by the blight.
For what they sow, God’s told us they shall reap.
Angels have prepared you robes of white.
Kind woman, womankind, hold tight your light.
For the 'TRIBUTE TO WOMEN' Poetry Contest
I may take time to smile but keep it on,
I know not what life means, how it bears fruit,
I smile all day-- right from the red of dawn.
Sun shines or silhouette rules, reason or none,
I greet the world--- though standing small, astute,
I take to smile at once and keep it on,
Grimace of prickly thorns nor ever frown,
Nor from a storm wicked tune of a brute,
I start smiling right from the early dawn.
Those close to me, together with me grown---
I sing with butterflies, sound on the mute,
Born with a smile I keep it ever on.
Blessed be the fertile soil and smiling sun,
Blessed be the Nature, I rise from the root,
I keep my learning on from dawn to dawn...
Until one day I wither, to death done,
Not once I forget this truth absolute:
One might take time to smile, should keep it on,
I start smiling from my babyhood’s dawn.
_____________________________________
The speaker in this poem is a flower. It talks of its philosophy of life and that of its close companions— leaves, thorns, and fruits apart from sprightly butterflies. It opens the monologue as the bud says, I take my time to smile, but keep it on as I blossom into flower. The guarding brutes are thorns. Everyone’s common philosophy of life is: Rise from the root.
_____________________________________________
Villanelle | 09.10.2008 |
One night, in the famous Amazon Rainforest
held its first “Mr. or Miss Venomous Quest,”
Goals of the search were for entertainment and fun
catered to all diurnal brutes who’re sad without the sun.
Nocturnal animals hosted an amusement battle
where the chosen team-representatives will wrestle,
They put up a wrestling ring under an oak tree
for all spectators could clearly view or see.
Invited judges were two birds from the west
who’ve the biggest eyes among the animals in the forest
They were Mr. and Mrs. Owls of Nocturnal Village
who married after one of them took advantage.
Loud cheers filled the air during that night
Judges’ wide eyes were as bright as the moonlight
Before the serpent has been bitten by the scorpion,
Strangled by her pinchers, she was declared champion!