Long Burlesque Poems
Long Burlesque Poems. Below are the most popular long Burlesque by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Burlesque poems by poem length and keyword.
In regard to human's such abject abyss and absurdity, we can't help questioning: can human still be indulgent in the virulent vainglory having shaped their pretentious and dangerous preconception of a human-centered and human-dominated cosmos? can human waywardly go on with their ecologic vandalism having already triggered the macrocosmic nature's wrath and punishment? In fact, all their perverted precepts and practices have spoilt or to a large extent countervailed the hard-earned results of their positive efforts. ( e.g. vaccine development, treatment of the infected)
As can be seen more often than not: Overloaded hospital wards and overwrought medical workers are outflanked by waves of overwhelming epidemic peaks, and the process of vaccination popularization outpaced by the viruses' variation and proliferation. Indeed, human's arrogance, ignorance and particularly conscience absence have estranged them from one informative sense: The best remedy is the due respect for the macrocosmic nature that nurtures the entire universe and the due reverence for her sovereign system that really dominates every being and everything living or working inside her domain; The best vaccine is the virtue of taking all harmless lives kindly and taking kindly to the nature's heartfelt call for every bio-community member's benign ecofriendly behavior.
Having ironed out the aforesaid reasoning and arguments and having made clear our firm attitude and stance, we hereby urge Spanish, Dutch butchers and especially the Dane banes:
Stop your criminal and cruel cull without delay, do not engage any more in any activity that may bring us extinction, mass toll and physical or psychological harm, let us resume enjoying our old habitat safe and calm.
We also want to extend our exhortation to all of the human being: Make a thorough stock-taking of the circumstances of correlated infection-prone species and overall epidemic aspect before renouncing your previous evil ways and recommitting to building a livable eco-environment and lovable bio-community. Only after the strict imposition of precautionary disciplines upon your daily behavior, would there be a promising future of fine faith and fair fortune for every existent being under the sun, of course including yourselves; In the bargain, would come genuinely effective epidemic-controlling & prevention mechanisms for yourselves.
In the twilight of my melancholy existence, love savors its bravery, like a vulture allergic to the suspicious aspects of ephemeral glamour, in a final macabre choreography.
On the edge of the precipice of my dramatic choices, my sacrifices reveal the artifices of their curses, but also the selfishness of their spiritual benefits in the face of the imposture of the supposed crucifixion of Jesus Christ.
The eloquence of my silence allowed my innocence to resist the violence of arrogance.
The tyranny of hegemony and the xenophobia of foreigners breed racial savagery and imperialist barbarism, while Western supremacy is transformed into a burlesque comedy trivializing negrophobia.
Suffering generates sentences, but sometimes repentance opens the way to independence, so that insolence can never turn into condescension.
Between the medals and the funerals, between the reunions and the reprisals, battles grip the rudder of my destiny, with a range of tortures.
My emotions oscillate between devotion to justice and the promotion of disbelief, urgently seeking remission of my transgressions, before the purification of the flames of hell plunges my divine spark into the furnaces of illumination.
The liberation of my ambitions contributed to the strengthening of my convictions, so that my determination unleashed the full extent of my potential.
My distance from dementia is minimal, even if the angel of death exempts me for the moment from the penances of the eternal abyss, my blasphemies sow the seeds of a new hope.
The history of my people is the memory of its victories and the grimoire of its disappointments,
Despite the decline of the pharaohs, the savagery of slavery and the barbarity of colonization, she taught me saving lessons so that my Africanness could flourish throughout the Earth.
In the permanent search for truth and sincerity, I aspire to freedom, equality and fraternity,
To a serenity, far from the vanities that humanity loves to adulate to forget its fragilities.
Between my feelings and their punishments, stands the sanctuary of the last judgment, their compliments obscure the lights of my cosmic atom.
In the quarrels of my past, the aftereffects persist, recalling the rebellious periods of my tormented soul.
I will never trust human beings, even if immortal love challenges my conscience.
Suburban Spring
(4.15.10)
Springtime fills the air,
like laughing gas.
(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
Middle-class houses
are starting to dance.
(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
Confused and intrigued,
with a slight urge to pee.
The father cuts grass,
like a sleepwalker.
(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
A six pack later,
he starts washing his car.
(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.
The mother kneels in dirt,
tending the garden.
(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty. (Figuratively, at least.)
A sunset later,
she cooks family dinner.
(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.
The son plays war games,
dying for fun.
(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
A full pitcher later,
tweaking on sugar,
(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.
The daughter makes a picnic,
inviting her toys.
(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
After the tea time,
she's off picking flowers.
(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)
They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."
(And proceed to stuff their face.)
The dog sits by the boy -
Loyal and true.
(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
After dinner,
he offers to help with the dishes.
(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite. The dog is not surprised.
Bedtime comes soon after.
The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
After tucking them in,
the parents watch TV.
(Or maybe they just dream they do,
sleeping in its glow.)
The dog is changing channels,
looking for a better show.
Confused and intrigued,
he pees on the carpet below.
Lord have they gone to far given an inch they want the yard
from burlesque to grotesque help me to not ever go back that way
vanity’s fair table no longer upon that table for now lays thy written word
for me and all to see that which was meant to entertain from poem
to plot now wrights like glorified misery it distains from play to matinee
every where you look the triple *** all they sell is sex from book
to comic to TV they try with adultness I no better than they gazed at that thrall
which was upon the pole the purse little did I know torturing my own soul
loosing fellowship while losing purse blind cat eyes can’t see drinking
yesterday today tomorrows hurt will not go away yet Lord there is a better way
praying the pain away in one name like pilgrims progress a real change
from person to family to industry to country to the world reach
the Gospel like your own personal wigglesworth revival an awakening
like a fall on your face Damascus walk this is not idle talk but for you I teach
warning every man for mine and yours man eternal survival
God is not mocked he died once for sin his commandment is eternal life
The Lamb of God who taketh away sin of the world he died for you whether
you believe it or not for God so loved the world he gave in your place
An eternal sacrifice once for all I must preach the Gospel and write
for woe is me and woes is you if not he that gather not scatters abroad
sin of silence do not stay don’t want to here him say I knew you not
for straight is the gate narrow is the way a hope for a purer Broadway also
broadcast Lord I hope they have not gone to far at last
Lord Jesus a need of redress American the burlesque
When I was young I thought I thought I could Fly,
Off the roof of the garage without a jet pack.
Life experience taught me different.
But even when only four I knew I could not get to the top of the garage,
Without a ladder or a helping hand from someone six foot plus.
Not so for the latest generation of,
Wanna be high flyers,
Who think they can fly to the top of the money tree,
By bypassing the bottom rung of the ladder,
Metaphorically speaking, of course,
As most, have never been up a ladder in reality, in their life.
Anyone pushing seventy or beyond,
Will most likely remember that few got to the top of the money tree,
In their chosen field,
Without serving some sort of apprenticeship,
Which required stepping on to the bottom of a ladder,
Both, metaphorically and physically.
There are few among us who have no sympathy,
Or respect for teachers, if we are not still in school,
And there is no doubting the stress they are under.
But when In NZ the teachers have rejected a pay rise,
That would see a teacher starting on only $1.99 above the,
New Minimum Wage,
I say only, as for most who served apprenticeships had high hopes,
Of one day earning $1.99 an hour.
And most did and much more over time.
Some of us even decided to change on a change of career,
And you guessed it,
Another apprenticeship and back down the ladder we went,
Never for a moment did we think we could fly to the top of the money tree,
Without a jet pack,
Or a winning streak at the races.
Having served an apprenticeship both metaphorically and physically speaking
Having switched from the printing trade to Early childhood teaching,
Having been up and down ladders Metaphorically and physically speaking,
Having been in and out of sight of the top of the money tree,
Metaphorically and physically speaking.
And as I stand here in sight of the top of the tree of life experience,
Metaphorically physically speaking,
I can see the money tree is getting taller by the year,
And most will have lost their hair before they get anywhere near.
So, with all that life experience under my belt,
I feel quite entitled to ask,
Where did we go wrong?
Who failed whom?
And who stole all the ladders?
Both physically and metaphorically speaking, of course.
Those trademark circular elements of style in vogue every four years
When the crème de la crème of the athleticism
presents itself on the world stage
Suspending and transcending any present day internecine conflict
Allowing, enabling, and proffering the five continents
And gathering of top-notch mental, physical and spiritual prowess
Extant with adroit prolific curved arabesques on one corner of the globe
That (like Noah with his Ark kit) human techno wizardry
Bedazzles viewers charting unparalleled feats
Whereby the human body defies the laws of physics and challenges gravity
Fielding a hypnotic colorful tapestry
Whereby the woof and warp of any melancholy moody blue, mellow yellow
Gunmetal green, roman a clef real time red doth white out
The dark knight, temporarily sequestered in a bishopric
Of faux queenly royalty, where a pawn
out the parapet of her castle keep
She imbibes requiem toward protesting the limits of *****sapiens
Inherent parameters, where fluid dynamics
of each most supreme contestant
Sans his/her specialized arena
Further the prior leg holds with free from arm-twisting head lock
And make a mockery of invisible manacles
Purportedly and formerly believed to tether man/woman kind
With unbreakable hidebound genetic/ chromosomal restraints
But nay to those who professed impossibility against the reins
Boxed and fenced in by bow rings set by Mother Nature
Well nigh obsolete and superfluous
What with evident burlesque stellar performances
Leaving the spectators starry eyed with collective mouths agape
As polished prominent performers blithely offset previous milestone
Setting a new yardstick to measure the Olympian capacity
That Heracles and Zeus would most likely deem
as some sort of magic trick
Yet lo, the sensational and majestic pageantry absolutely serious
Lying to rest what used to be merely amateur games
Whereby most any novice could coax a charade, façade, travesty et cetera
Without fear of getting flagged, but phenomenal exhibitors of today
Can nearly bank on netting a truckload of worldly wide wealth
Whereby a hand-made Scottish tartan Harris Tweed welcome mat
Ushers August men and exuding mettle and iron clad dedication
With pomp and circumstance into pantheon of future legends!
Form:
Ah, the great American food mind!
Nobody else could ever make such a find...
The American "Red Hot", or HotDog..
A national tradition...
Superb in every edition....
But my son and I,
When to the movies we went,
Had a hotdog, and money was well spent...
Why can't we make Hot Dogs like these?
If they asked, to find out,
I'd fall on my knees...
Tried every brand...but just
not quite right...
So I stewed it over, and went
on my way...
Until one fateful day...
I came across kitchen appliances
on sale...
I don't need none...wait! Did I
forget the bun?....
And somehow I found special
hot dog makers...
I'd seen them many times before,
But never in an appliance store...
Roasters, steamers, spits and lots more...
I ain't got no clue,
What most are for....
Then I remembered the movie show,
And suddenly, Eureka!, I did know!
They had those odd machines,
Automatically turning hot dogs,
on little rollers...I said, wow!
Gotta get one of them!!
Found them on line,
And I espied their great cost...
$500 bucks minimum,
of course...
What the hell, ya only live once...
So I ordered one up....
While I sipped on my cup....
It soon came,
and Amazing it was!!
Much better than I'd hoped...
but yet, still just a little something off...
I thought to myself, I gotta figure this out...
Went to the store,
Plastic pulled out...
23 types of mustard, relish and such,
Three different buns,
different in shape, size,
and touch....
And now, every brand of hot dog in the store...
Had to be twenty or more!...
It took me some time,
But when I was done,
I knew he right mustard,
I knew the right bun!...
The band came over to play that night...
I served everyone hotdogs,
It was so out of sight!!
Well it took lots'a time,
and money too...
But soon enough,
Everyone knew....
You needed Hebrew National Franks,
Though their cost was so dear...
But after these investments,
I had little to fear...
So from then on,
it was Coney Island in Queens..
I was the hot dog king...
Nothing else meant a thing!!
So if you need a real tasty dog,
Come see me here,
Where I'm high on the hog,...
And for a mere five bucks,
you can have a dog...
And say "Oh Shucks!"
GOODLUCK
Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Oozing pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes)
On congruent grounds we let him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail, waiting substitute to end the reign of quack
Lacklustre, insipid and a pervading naivety.
Unvaried captain rocks this boat, gagged by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, miseries the reign of a drab creek king
Kleptocracy adorning imposition,
EBELE
Embezzlers on rampage, holes bequeathed for pillaging.
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched obtuse scamp
Egregious craven shrieked at the sound of war “I am not a lion”.
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps
Encumbrances from delinquent clan divide the love for mother land
DAME
Damp squib's duchess & indecent tongue, devoid of restraint
Audacious domestic appendage ferrying funds
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations,
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
PATIENCE
Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults.
Adventurous nerve for futile globe -trot.
Twitchy at state's affairs though never elected.
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity.
Euphemistic drama, Scrappy curiosity with comedy.
National dilemma by decorated buffoons.
Crude verbiages to amuse eggheads “my Fellow widows”
Encomium of approval turned sour “Power” the pipe for thieves.
JONATHAN
Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking )
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi echoed NO to mistimed removal,
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looting Criminals Lords over us
Tyranny cloaked garbs, creek professor without a thesis.
Higgledy-piggledy a travesty called democracy.
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam,
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured, while we die helpless
My T.V. just left, said he was
Gonna go out and catch a real movie...
Those on T.V. stations have grown too trite,
My refrigerator told me,
He ain't letting me in no more...
At least till I drop 20...
I guess I'm a frightful sight...
Things are seemingly becoming,
So very, very odd..
I don't know, what of it, I should make...
It starts every morning,
When my bed kicks me out,
Before I'm half-way awake...
My electric razor merely adds to my beard,
Aspirin only adds to my physical pain,
It's getting mighty weird...
And that's only a small portion,
Of the bizarre things that I can't explain...
I didn't have a twenty,
To appease my angry 'fridge
So I tried feeding it a fifty...
Through those mysterious bottom vents...
It ate the bill up at once,
And said it could not make change...
My, things were getting awful strange...
My toaster, which apparently
Felt some pity for me...
Started popping out singles,
Unfortunately, burnt to a char,
I began to feel my mind,
Had spent six weeks of
non-stop drinking,
In some filthy dockside bar...
My A/C only works...
On the coldest winter days,
My can opener will only open..
Cans of gross carrots and peas:
My mixer is so mixed up,
Everything comes out
Solid as a brick...
And my dish washer is
Quite a villain...
Washes only paper plates,
And that ain't so thrillin'
It's always up to some mean trick,
Like shooting out the water,
Maybe it thinks it's a floor washer,
The whole thing just makes me sick...
My refrigerator's ice dispenser
Only dispenses Swedish meatballs...
My toilet cover won't open up for me,
Said it's seen enough of my sorry _ss,
Even my flip-flops are flops..
And my phone line is tapped,
For some reason,
By the cops...
My local supermarket,
Only allows me two aisles...
One with toilet paper and plungers,
The other strictly dog food and cat litter..
My microwave no longer waves at me,
Merely gives me the finger...
How much more on this world,
Must I linger?
I don't get no respect...
It aint easy being me..
So move over, Rodney,
I'll be joining you real soon,
Maybe the two of us,
Can find refuge on the moon.
Over two hundred million people sleeps and wake without a leader,
A cloned effigy in a rock called "Aso"
too old to lead or long dead to be,
demented or dead, they cannot tell,
old age has come but he would not leave.
a cult of connivers shields a tyrant,
with ceaseless speeches and empty promises,
One A Liar , some are writers and others are twitvist,
Two years of silence and none dare ask,
where is the President who took the oath?
Over two hundred million heads bowed to corruption,
East and west the groans is Loud,
where right is wrong and wrongs is praised.
The governors or senator and ministers too,
all aligned to loot the treasury,
recycled bandits in seats of honor,
Judges are blinded and the media subdued,
as brown envelop diverts attention.
over two hundred million destinies suspended,
#ENDSARS was their last successful outcry
a revolution too soon suspended
From Bonny Barracks to Lekki, criminals in uniform murdered unity.
bludgeoned agitators with the barrels the errand boys of a dictator police and solders.
and the masses too scared for a total freedom,
returned to apathy and unending subjugation
Over two hundred Million deprived masses.,
controlled as slaves by a hundred old despots,
Littered across cultures and tribes, a handful few protected by guns,
ex criminals , Presidents and ex all,
with looted funds in London and and Zurich,
atop hills in gaudy wealth,
unaffected by the groaning of a people nestled in penury,
Over two hundred million people disunited,
who by amalgam compelled by Britain's Lugard,
Feudalism and lie called democracy.
The minority herders on a mission
they took the yam and knife without resistance.
where beggars becomes a tyrant after election (Rigged)
and the masses dare not demand accountability
over two hundred million sufferers gave oppressor a breathing space,
where servants becomes the Boss,
without pacifying and unwilling to yield
the Loot looted named palliatives.
old tyrant mock democracy by decrees
What country ?
Don't ask me.
you know it well