Long Cartoonish Poems
Long Cartoonish Poems. Below are the most popular long Cartoonish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cartoonish poems by poem length and keyword.
the serene people whose ease of manner
once made him yearn and confabulate
are laughable cartoonish and piteous now
could have been much worse he said
as his last breath left his scarred throat
feral hand closing his own eyes
St. Pudenda greeted him at the tall gates
under the lights at Checkpoint Charlie
Mariachi trumpets rolled out the mauve carpet
and a dog barked from behind the garbage cans
from all infinity we end up with this
a realm of syntax governed by ambiguity
she read from a large ledger atop a marble pedestal
why a ledger rather than a laptop is anyone's guess
apparently the vanguard party had been evicted
by Frankie Boxcars and the Hollywood mafia eons ago
in the great schism over the digitization of paradise
no jury of his peers he noted with unease
nothing of telling import she imparted casually
eyes darting up and down the pages
as if something previously detected had been airbrushed
arrested for self amplification she went on
and sorcery and coughing in quiet places
how did you sleep she asked with a beaming smile
I don't know I was asleep he intoned
I suppose we can reveal the joke she mused
but I was dreaming he countered
backed into a tight corner by snarling lap dogs
tossed into a kidnap taxi with a sack over my head
marched with a gun in my back
through a forest of clichés
fed lines from a hideous new sitcom
about sex among the homeless
a weekly broadcast on Piñata Vision
of course it was more fun
not being an active target
but what choice did I have
knowing what I know
poor dear thing she continued
there is a better version of everything
a law of nature completely natural
and yes it is densely beautiful and
smoldering with awe like a corpse in a bathtub
try to avoid the truly grotesque
in favor of the marginally grotesque
we love having you in our science dept.
with the state secrets and midget **** videos
masquerading as the way things actually are
where the misty cows moo in contentment
and the Vaseline runs hot behind sanctuary doors
horrors altering the course of suns
between the here and the there
every bit of it needless she giggled
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Ànd I thought to myself how I do, stand within astonishing disbelief
When I behold once more the manifestation of his maligned and malignant face....
Like somehow viewing an apparition appearing, before the gates of grace
Disguisingly vague; behind these darkened window panes, of his masquerade!?
Boldly splithering his splather of finely prepared, to grasp and take
The dissolvings stirred within these tampered views; always splattered
Amongst the disheveled discomforts propelled, upon the discordant humans race....
While slowly lifting his cartoonish covert mask, of reasons entangled
From upon his identities truth, of revealings cardinal carcass face?!
Stepping from the glass profound to present this jagged crown
Hidden, beneath these broken edges of his fallaciously glittering, malnutritioned smile
And, malicious is his name....
As he enters through the secret side doors pathway
Now, seperated from its hinges which once held his presence bound?
Reaching forth to expose these sharpened pointed nails
Extending, from his pentagrams petrified and gray ghost hands
To cast these crossbones upon the scarlets floor, of vaporings, soon to be chance....
No longer but a myth anymore; written beyond the pages of his mysticals lore!
Slowly, crossing these barriers of the realmistics gates unknown
Which were somberly and bitterly, not long ago, once foretold?
And while as these impious implosions of what shall soon commence
Intwine themselves within the webs of this worlds lost, and without defense
"Crimson and clovers, over and over;" omens, towards a time wastedly, spent!
Gazing beyond the reflections now; as I stand amid these wonderous tides....
Beyond the horrors which shall proceed and yet encompass; enclose; his fateful face
Suddenly appearing vague no more; these curtains which do cover, his darkened windows
day
Crossbones cast upon the scarlets floor; burning pages, once thought to be lore!?
That called him throughout the centuries, millenniums, and more
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Malicious' father"
Form:
Oh, Jellystone Park, where echoes reside,
In the whispers of trees and the brook's gentle glide.
A haven of mischief, of laughter, of cheer,
Where two famous bears roam year after year.
Yogi, the leader, so quick with a plan,
A bear of bold wit, a most cunning fan.
With his tie so dapper, his hat tilted just so,
A schemer of schemes wherever he’d go.
“Hey, Boo-Boo, my buddy, this picnic’s for us!
Why should baskets just sit without any fuss?”
But Boo-Boo would frown, his tiny heart torn,
“Yogi, you know it’s not something we should do.”
“Relax, little buddy, don’t worry your head,
We’ll leave no crumbs, not a shred on this spread.
The ranger’s too slow, too busy, he'll be too late
We’ve got the smarts; we will surely change our fate!”
Round the park they would prance, a duo unmatched,
Through covert escapes, their plans always hatched.
Scaling high treetops, diving through streams,
Their friendship unshaken, as sure as their dreams.
For Boo-Boo, the conscience, so wise, so composed,
Would soften the edges of Yogi’s repose.
“Yogi, my friend, think of what we might lose,
If the Ranger gets mad for the baskets we take!”
But Yogi grins, his charm lighting the day,
“Boo-Boo, my logic will show us the way!
The park is our home, so lively, so vast,
We’re just sharing its gifts while the moment lasts.”
The ranger may grumble, his whistle may blow,
But Yogi outmaneuvers, he’s too fast to his slow.
With a wink and a laugh, and Boo-Boo in tow,
They vanish through pines where the breezes still blow.
Oh, Jellystone Park, a stage for the pair,
Their antics are immortal, etched in the air.
For Yogi’s bold heart and Boo-Boo’s soft soul,
Create a harmony, a timeless patrol.
Though baskets may vanish, and tempers may flare,
There’s love in abundance when these two are there.
Oh, Yogi and Boo-Boo, a duo so rare,
Cartoonish legends whose "Smarter than the avenge bear!"
Minimal involvement with extracurricular activity at Methacton
limited to playing Baritone Horny within the band
though marginal interest existed to maintain constancy
feigning noteworthy interest second to none
eventually Mister O'Donnell
(I remember without mental exertion - surmising that tubby name
of bandleader) synonymous with attitude ill suited,
thus loss being banned haint grand
loss, and subsequent loss did not stun,
nor disheartenment arose to forego hearing
future applauding hand, or standing ovation
and felt reprieve, relieve, when refused further sharing of any awards won
yet the greatest joy arose to even the score for decision
foisted upon me to play Baritone Horn now a choice I manned
in tandem with with late afternoon rehearsals
necessitating this boy not much bigger than the baritone horn
to make a mad dash with truckload of academic material
plus encased “mini tuba,” which constantly banged upper right thigh,
and nearly tripped me to go flailing head over heals.
Exhaustion (a welcome relief with sprinting the distance –
possibly even setting a world record) getting linkedin
(half heartedly envisioning myself whizzing
across the mountains viz tour de France
measuring a winning distance – quite an expanse
whereby giving the strong armed cyclist brandishing his lance
a run...er rather pedal for his money,
yet this flight of fancy fragile as a séance
vanished without a trace, although this trance
figurative shifted gears burnishing via sans deus sol invictus
and didst witness glory, where ignominy, humility, and disharmony
Mister McDonald (supposed namesake) from looming maestro,
whose countenance evinced
countless cartoonish, distorted expressive facial grotesqueries
earning apropos sobriquets
who jabbed the air with each illusory add vance.
Through my window I watched it float gracefully by
An eloquent specimen, a rare butterfly
Wings painted black and the brightest of green
The most breathtaking creature I ever had seen
It flew to the forest in a zig-zagging line
And landed to rest on the bark of a pine
Flushed with the thrill of the game hunters play
I stalked up and captured my elusive prey
It struggled and fought with great strength for its size
Prying and pinching, I heard muffled cries
“Release me!” It squeaked “I will NOT be your prize”
I saw tiny legs and angry little eyes
‘My god it’s a Leprechaun!’ I shouted with glee
‘You must grant me one wish now’…”So be it” said he
He slashed through my palm and bored to my thumb
Til it bulged to the size of a cartoonish plumb...
My fingers exploded in bits all around
Flesh and bone spattered, blood gushed to the ground
I stared in stark terror and mad disbelief
My mangled hand swaying like a dangling dead leaf
‘I’m wounded, I’m dying!’ In panic cried
And fled to my house to the bathroom inside
‘It’s ruined!’ I screamed as I bled in the sink
‘Now they will notice, now what will they think?’
‘I know I can never remove all these stains
I know that my eyes cannot hide all this pain
The veil has been shredded, the wall broken through
(I saw something move at the edge of my view)
There in the corner the Leprechaun stood
Black eyes spinning secrets of evil and good
He spread out his wings like a butterfly should
Ready to fly back to his tree in the wood
He spoke without speaking, "So, what have you caught?"
(My mind was struck dumb, stripped clean of all thought)
“Now” he laughed softly, “I shall grant your demand”
I sank to my knees then and reached forth my hand
My pen pleads
Lonely nights offer moments of silence
and one dish suppers where candlelight seems a waste
Seated with pen in hand, I smooth the ruffles beneath
as if that will help the words flow
Upon closer inspection I find
fancy patterns on the dining room tablecloth
mimic the movements of my hand,
layered one atop another, calling on each to oblige
Crossing lines, intersecting at pre-destined points,
repeating in harmony with one another
as my thoughts gather in the opaque vastness
of this rectangular parchment staring at me
Moving in sync with swirling ridges on the corners
and scribbled etchings along borders,
the tip follows fantasies of a mind in a dream state,
drawling each curve in my own random design
Cartoonish figures joust with balloon dragons
amidst the sunflower faces, some smiling, some not
on cursive stems sprouting from geometric signals
and sharp pointed periods ending ideas
Fabric folds neatly collect the blotches of spilled ink
seeping slowly through the cloth
like raindrops on a leaf following the veins
in an abstract yet confined flow
To the blurred eye sits nonsense,
a collection of nothing on a vast white sheet
dancing like uneven feet on a rounded floor
of no particular meaning or feature
Yet to me, my penned doodling calls loudly,
even in the darkness of lost words, these patterns,
as is everything found filling me is her,
and my pen pleads in heart shaped longings
when i arrived on earth
I must have seen the rain through the window
it was saturday in the hospital room
busy women in white
fluttering snowflakes in my made-up memory
giving injections measuring pressure stopping bleeding
a half-naked and thin man hanging on the wall
thorns stuck in the forehead to bleed
I didn't see it but I imagined
the muddied shoes of a bearded worker man
dirtying the ascetic floor of the hallway
while crying hallucinated the loss of his wife
my mother gave birth to so many children
all kind of open mouth birds
waiting for worms to get fat fast
and become bankrupt executives
to perpetuate the saga of the indebted
in some years my friends were three
they looked clumsy and cartoonish
inexperienced characters from a cheap movie
they didn't attend my school
where I almost had fun without laughing
finding out about mosses and lichens
the physiology of the human being
and the miserable rewards
for those who know how to obey
I shouldn't have done most of the things I did
acting in life like an unhappy sociopath
I know this because I always see myself as in a picture
the static moments when my gaze was cold
I've never really been inside these facts
I was that scientist with detailed spreadsheets
annotating data for later report
they said I was a joker back then
it's a lie because I'm still displaced
and I never found my ground
The darkness behind their eyes
reveals a mind that's
still asleep
I'm not blind to the intentions
that slumber waiting
for their number
to be called to awaken
No I'm not mistaken but see what
was planned for me
in the darkest of rooms
It seems as though they've been
consumed by their hate
for me but
what have I done besides
be me unapologetically?
I do this enthusiastically with
or without approval
because it comes
so naturally
Why come for me if I didn't
send for you
then pretend as if
what I say isn't true?
I am the truth that your
lowly lies try to hide
but still I won't stoop
I'm used to animated animosity
even if the hypocracy
is cartoonish
in nature
You'd need a reality eraser
to correct the mistakes
you've made
in this matrix
Let's stick to the basics of
cleaning our own home
before throwing
rocks at another
How dare one speak truth
so uniquely his own
they say
& in such a way that inspires
both love and hate
inside of others
Some can't wait to see you fall
while others
wish to see you rise
If I were you I'd keep my eyez
on the prize
& off the plate
in other peoples
lives
Instead of despising me for
what I see & surmise
how about just
being you
minus the added
debris
Maybe one day they'll retire
after they put out their
dumpster fires
instead of burning bridges
meant to inspire
we found it uncomfortable
to hear him rant.
we found it less considering to
try to understand his logic
his disposition
and even his words.
" YOU HAVE A FAMILY
I THINK YOU CAN UNDERSTAND
I DON'T LIKE YOU
AND YOUR BUSINESS IS MY BUSINESS
AND WHAT BRINGS US TOGETHER
IS THAT YOUR RESEARCH IS FOR ME: ( PAUSING TO LAUGH)
YOUR WORK SHALL BE MINE
ALL YOUR LABORS ARE IN VAIN,
SEE YOU MAY BE WEALTHY, BUT I'M THE BOSS
YOU FOLLOW MY ORDERS, AND EVERY THING WILL BE FINE,
CALL IT BULLYING: OR A MEASURE OF DISCONTENT
WHAT LACKS EMOTION OFTEN BRINGS PEOPLE TO BE LESS
CONSIDERATE, YOU WEALTHY PEOPLE NEED TO UNDERSTAND
YOU CAN' AFFORD NOT TO GIVE ME WHAT I WANT
AND YOU CAN'T AFFORD NOT TO DO WHAT I SAY
I'M THE FREAKIN BOSS HERE!"
IT TOOK EIGHT MEN IN TUXEDO'S TO GET THIS MAN OUT OF THE
BANQUET HALL.
WE WERE HAVING A GREAT TIME DANCING AND SHARING THYMES TOGETHER AND
THIS JERK CAME IN DEMANDING THE PLANS AND THE CASH FROM
MR. JEHOSHAPHAT, HE LOOKED SCARED AND COWARD DOWN TO HIM
UNTIL MY HUSBAND TOOK THE SITUATION AND BOUGHT A LEVEL OF DIGITY TO THIS CARTOONISH JERK!
You have blocked yourself as well
Not just only me
Take your time, I’m sure it tells
More than you can see
And that troubled person who
Liked to give advice
May have find another true
Lover to surprise
Possibly you think this way
Trashing me to bits
And I don’t know what to say
Cause I lack the wits
I would rather be a rat
Digging in your soil
But you blocked yourself from that
Personal turmoil
I would rather be unborn
In this cruel world
But I’m here to be torned
By your loving word
You have pulled a winning ticket
In the lottery of chances
And my ticket was a wicked
Gallery of circumstances
Queen of spades can’t play it cool
In the game of hearts
And whatever does the fool
He will fall apart
Problem is, life carries on
Gives another great last chance
Not to miss the prudish tone
And cartoonish arrogance
Now your time will never tell
What it tells for me
Cause you blocked yourself as well
From my company.