Long Chastushka Poems

Long Chastushka Poems. Below are the most popular long Chastushka by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chastushka poems by poem length and keyword.


Conclusion of Kanteemans Tale

THEY WOMAN IN THE VILLAGE HEARD OF WHAT WAS GOING ON. THEY WISH NOT TO ENCOURAGE SUCH ROUGE BEHAVIOR PROPOSED BY THE WARBIRD. SIFFRON SAID TO THE OTHERS, THE FEATHERS OF THE HOFFTINDALE SHALL DANCE TO MAKE THE WARBIRD SING, HE SHALL THEN BE THE AMBASSADOR THAT I WISH HIM TO BE. SHE ORDERED HER MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMEN TO BE CLEANED AND HAVE SCENT, AND WEAR THE FEATHERS OF PEACE, AND SPEAK TO THE SETTLERS. WHILE THE MEN SLEPT, THE WOMAN DRESSED AND WENT INTO THE SETTLEMENT, ASKING TO SPEAK TO THOSE WHO COULD FIND THE GOD'S OF THE STREAM. THEY WISH THE MEN NOT TO KNOW OF THEIR INVOLVEMENT WITH WHAT WILL BE NEGOTIATED. THEY TOLD THEM THE GODS HAD COMMANDED THEM TO HUNT WITHIN THE FENCE, AND TO TAKE THE STONES FROM THE WALL. ONE SETTLER TOLD THE PRICE OF A STEER, AND SAID IF ONE WOULD BE MISSED THEY'D HAVE TO PAY FOR IT, AND IF THE STONES FROM THE CREEK WERE REMOVED, THE NATIVES WOULD HAVE TO FIX IT. THEY GAVE THE SETTLERS THE PRICE OF A PRIZE BULL AND MADE A PLAN TO HAVE THE SETTLERS MAKE A DEAL TO FIX THE STONES IN THE WALL, ALL WHICH HAD NOT HAPPENED. THE WOMEN WERE TO GATHER THOSE WHO WOULD FIX THE WALL BY NEGOTIATING BEFORE THE HAPSTANCE. WELL DAYS LATER THE IMAGE REAPPEARED AND ORDERED A HUNT AND THE STONES REMOVED FROM THE WALL, A GROUP OF SETTLERS WATCHED FROM THE SHRUBS AND SAW WHAT THEY NATIVES SAW AND WERE AMAZED, THEY THEN SPOKE TO THEIR CLERGYMEN WHO TOLD THEM TO ALLOW THE HAPSTANCE TO HAPPEN, AND TAKE THE MONEY AND TRY TO GET FOLK AWARE MIGHT THEY HAVE TO FIX THE WALL.
DAYS LATER MUSKHAWK, PAINTED HIS FACE AND GRABBED A SPEAR AND WENT IT THE FENCE AND HUNTED A STEER, HE USED A HORSE TO REMOVE THE STEER. THIS WAS DOOONE AT THE EDGE OF NIGHT. WARBIRD COMMANDED THAT THREE STONES BE REMOVED FROM THE WALL, AND THE WATER GOD COULD DO THE REST HIMSELF IF HE WAS TRULY GOD. THE SETTLERS ALLOWED SUCH. AND WHEN THE DAMN HAD BROKE, THEY SPOKE NOTHING OF IT. FOR DAYS AND WEEKS AND THAN MONTHS AND YEARS WENT BY WITHOUT ANYONE SAYING A THING. UNTIL NOW!


Eighth At Eight

Edit (Second prize) 

	EIGHTH AT EIGHT A.M.
    
By ~freecee!~ on Thursday, 11/3/ 10 at 9:28am 
Whilst walking when the southern wind changes in my direction
and become nor-easters such as a festering infection
I have not a choice but to go where my worn out shoes will take me
 Until I reach far enough south for the sun to bake me 
so people inquire why I don't drive a car
and i tell them because were i to have one I'd drink after leaving a bar

Panama Pete, the owner, knows straight vodka is all i ever drink
and he knows how many I need to no longer think
since drinking at eight A.M. only gets me in trouble with ladies or the law
and please don't think that alcohol is my only flaw
so I leave old Pete with his Panama hat's brim well worn
until, more often than not, I awake on some stranger's lawn
how I got there and why I am indifferent to
and take my word for it I am different from you
you probably have loved ones who would care if you'd die
I, however, could expire and not a soul on earth would cry
no moans, no groans and no tears would be shed
for only Panama Pete will miss me when I'm dead

other people I’ve cheated try to slay me because they despise me
and no tuxedo, three piece suit nor pin-stripes can disguise me
i am what i am because of a detrimental mind
and people can discern what i am even if they're blind
So I arise from the stranger's lawn and keep on the run
Trying to outrun the rain or be done in by the sun
©2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~ 
(Panama Pete is actually his name and owns or owned a seedy bar on eighth avenue and 46th Street in Manhattan. i haven't seen him in twelve years but if he’s still among the living I’m giving ten to one odds that say were i to walk into his establishment he'd pour me four and one on the house)

Consanguinity

The augury of him in Crimea was so
That Ekaterina said she was tired of sandwiches
But I did have black tea, black Latvian bread with her black Ikra near Black Sea
Hundreds of kilometres from Kiev and from Moscow in Odessa where heresy breaches

I beated her wings in no confinement,in no vituperation
She flew flower to flower to no destination
She knew I was a drinking son of pride straightaway
And I apprised me that she was a drunk daughter of arrogance having me in sway

At night on table when Putin came with my rassolnik
And said that he had seen many earthquakes being not born a Japanese geek
I felt in my bedroom her shenanigan moves
A carefully preserved time capsule in grooves

Rubbers burnt got her season
and wheels vulcanized got his prison
Dudley Castle and Kremlin cannot be friends
With Timoshenkos pillaging appetites in trusses and bends

Keep your red gown for the right time Ekaterina
For I have eaten all meats-that of a pig, of a cow,horse and bear
And eschew my emotions like a ballerina
A square,a quadrilateral,a rhombus and a parallelogram are not the same when each buccaneer

Vladimirs have always condescended bloody Mirs of Dagestan
In the duel between Russian charlottes and Turkish harems
The fishing villages of acrimony and Satan
I will not count Ekaterina`s eggs for my child`s Ukrainian mother in tandems

Vocabulary used
Ikra-Russian caviar in poetry`s context its the black caviar or fish eggs.
Rassolnik- is a traditional Russian soup made from pickled cucumbers, pearl barley, and pork or beef kidneys. A vegetarian variant of rassolnik also exists. The dish is known to have existed as far back as the 15th century, when it was called kalya
© Amit Ray  Create an image from this poem.

If God Was To Ask Me?

Here as I sit at the pearly white gates, not sure of what my fate will be? As I reflect back on 
my life and think about what God will think of me? As I await his word of what my final fate 
will be? I can remember that day I broke my Mom’s favorite glass  figurine and the day I 
cooked her gold fish, name Sam…thought I was as good a cook as her? That day I smoked 
my first cigarette or that time I tied a firecracker to that old stray cat that use to wander 
through the streets night and day. The time when I cheated on that math test by copying the 
kid’s paper that sat next to me and still got an F... and the time I lied about my aunt's death, 
just so I could get a day off from work. I also recall the day I married my first wife and said 
I do until death do us part, just to find myself married two more times before they finally laid 
me to rest. I never meant to hurt anyone, as I sat there pondering my life? God then ask 
me, "If you had to do it all over again my child? What would you change about your life? 
God, then ask me, what if you could be me and I was you? Would you let yourself into 
Heaven or would you send yourself straight to Hell?" I sat there for a moment, and then 
nodded my head, then I hesitated and said to him, “I know I would change everything that I 
ever did, but the last thing I would even try to do is try to be you God.” All these years you 
have had to deal with people just like me? If you ask me God, you have had it rougher than 
me?

By Jay Andrew Anderson-Taylor

Tom's Satirical Forms of Poetry

all you serious, and formally  trained poets, please excuse my satire, but a guy 
born in Brooklyn NY, (me)- really gets a kick out of this somewhat pretentious 
classification system for something, to me, is as simple as merely conveying a 
thought, emotion, idea, image, etc.  If it ain't natural, it ain"t real.  Don't get mad at 
me, I'm obviously "mad" already!!
ABC Verse-(poems written or performed on Sesame Street?)
Carpe  Diem-(an ex-Vietnamese leader who happed to be a fish?)
Chastushka-(an old, heavy Russian woman yenta?) (or the headscarf she 
wears?) (or another Russian forrest comet strike?)
Cinquain- (a man made and manufactured maleria med, given in 5 parts?)
Classicism- (an exorcism for a classy person?)
Cherihew- (a French axe for lovers?)
Concrete- (a Mafia burial material?)
Couplet- (2 lovers allowed to "do their thing"?)
Cowboy- (a hybrid mix of a young male human and a domestic female cattleof 
genus Bos?)
Crystalline- (stalagnites, or expensive young female stemware?)
Diamantie- (a new Honda auto?)
Didactic- (a guy who finally cleans his attic?)
Diminished Hexaverse- (a witch's evil spell spoken in a poetic manner in a very 
soft voice?)
Dizain- (either a hair restoration product prone to make the user dizzy, a 
deceased Jazz musician, or a new cleaning product introduced by, yes, you got it -
Billy Mays!!!!)
Dodoitsu- (a new form of Japanese martial art created specifically for the near-
extinct Do-Do bird?)

More to come.............
© Tom Bell  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Burlesque


Free Cee of Bricks and Bubbles

A   BUTTERFLY   BLOWING   BUBBLES

I was catching bubbles in a butterfly net for beauty’s sake
Needless ‘tis to say sans any success
The second I secured one it would summarily break
And I left with but bubbles that burst to confess

First I was cursed when the last bubble burst
A rainbow reflecting orb that orbited a galaxy of glory
But bubbles burst as was well rehearsed
And alas a lady’s allegiance became all but an allegory

The bubbles were the lady’s biblical sign of sorrow
A parable comparable to pain
The butterfly net an ineffective trap untamed by tomorrow
Because bubbles don’t fare well in the rain

That rain was a metaphor for a meteor shower
The sky’s tale told by tempestuousness and temptation
A symbol of sordidness and a parable of power
A fable able to create total alienation

Damn girl
The consequence of your comeuppance screwed things up completely
Not to mention quite indiscreetly
You messed things up in a major way
By a means of misery only the heartless may
You turned beautiful bubbles into beleaguering bricks
With flagrantly fragrant candles missing their wicks 
You burst my bubble of beauty by begetting the misbegotten
And now you and those burst bubbles may never be forgotten
Because damn girl………..
You really and royally screwed things up
So excuse me as I try catching bubbles in a half-empty cup 
                                 © 2012…PHREEPOETREE ..~free cee!~

Five Chastushka

The rich 
Are resentful
Of the poor
Feel 
They have to 
Pay more
Taxes 
Then the poor
Hence hide
Their
Money 
Yet still 
Salute their 
Nations 
Flag
And show 
Hunger for wars
It is profitable 
And 
The poor
Can do 
The soldiering 





Mortal Man 

 The water broke
Jubilation
Soon a child be born
The pain
Has gone
The battle
Is done
 Can`t see or speak
 Slowly life
Ebbs
And a life 
Is extinguish 
Sometimes  
The unspoken
Relief 
Is etched 
In mourners
Faces 









Providence 
When
 They tore down
The statue
Of the dictator
Left
Was two
 Rusty tubes
Hanging 
in their
What happened?
To the tube
We will never
Know
Perhaps 
They were used
As drain pipes
Pipes 







Aloneness 

Around and
 Around 
He skated 
In a shallow 
Winter lake
Till he fell
And could 
Through ice
Yellow grass 
Standing erect
Ballet dancers
Waiting for 
The cue   
He got up
And skated
In moonlight 
1949
Years flew by 
Like 
Autumnal leafs 
And in a flash
He looked 
Into his past


Homestead

Five milking
 Cows
A horse
Fifty sheep
Hens enough
To service a cock
Simple life
Hard work 
Swills 
Manure
Collected
For the soil
Swills
For the pig 
Seasons flew by 
Hasty clouds
I was fifteen
Bus back to town
A new life
Youthfulness
I forgot 
Only now
Do I remember
A time 
Of contentment

Cluffia Del Too

THEY HAD ALOT TO TALK ABOUT
THEY FOUND A GROUP FROM THE
UPPER- VALLEY ON THE EDGE OF THE SETTLMENT
IT BOTHERED SOME
KNOWING THAT sTAMBLE mEANEST WAS AMONG THOSE SPOTTED.
STAMBLE HAD FATHER A CHILD WITH SEVERAL WOMAN IN THE SETTLEMENT.
AND WISHED TO MARRY ONE OF THE DAUGHTERS OF WARBIRD.
THIS WENT AGAINST THE WISHES OF WARBIRD, AND EVEN HIS FATHER WHO HAD LABELED
HIM A TRAITOR TO HUMANITY.
HE HAD ALLIED HIMSELF WITH THE POFIA-DAFF-GANNY, A COUNTERINTELLIGENCE
GROUP FROM AN AREA IN SOUTH MEXICO.
THEY LOOTED A WORSHIP AREA IN PITITO ALLOW STAMBLE ACCESS TO THE SETTLEMENT, PUTTING A BOUNTY ON HIS HEAD AND
ONLY ALLOWED HIM THE RIGHT TO WRITE HIS CHILDREN.ZIA AND SHIPPED THE GOLD TO THE VALLEY TO BE STORED THEIR.
WHY DID THE SETTLERS AGREE, IS SOMETHING OF A MYSTERY.
IT IS SAID THAT THAT THE TREASURE WAS HAUNTED, AND A CURSE WAS MADE ON IT.
THOSE WHO WISHED TO POSSES
 THE TREASURE WOULD DO SO AT A RISK.
SOME SCHOLARS SAY THAT WHEN THE SETTLERS MELTED THE GOLD
AND MADE COINS
THE FLOOR OF THE BUILDING BEGAN SHAKING.
AND SOME REPORTS THAT THE DOORS FELL FROM THEIR HINGES.
NOT WANTING THE TROUBLE FROM THE SPANISH SOLDERS, THEY
REFUSED. WARBIRD WAS QUOTED AS SAYING, "HE ( STAMBLE) WISHES TO MAKE WOMAN THINK LIKE MEN.
CAUSING THEM, TO CREATE A CULTURE AROUND HIM.
YET WHAT IS RECREATED OFTEN CREATES NEW PROBLEMS"

Free Cee Darling Dissolve

Darling Dissolve
You, my darling, let love dissolve
You let time wash it away
Now I am left alone here to say
How much I loved you yesterday
When there was still both you and me
And what I thought might come to be
But now I am left alone
Sinking in a lake like a stone
While weeping damnably in the dark
You left me here all alone
Just me……… and the unknown
There was so much that was unknown to me
So please, don’t lover moan to me
You let this future come to be
And now there’s no more you and me
Or maybe even…………. Some number three

You, darling, let love decrease
And then you stole my peace
We once had one happy home
Till you said, “honey, I need to roam”
Then with your last kiss you said goodbye
And I could do nothing but sit there and cry

Cry, don’t cry to me
You made this future, this future come to be
Now there is only sorrowful me….no you….no three
You see

By you and love was I betrayed
And now I’m so damned afraid
But I’ll hold my head up ever high
And learn……….. how not to cry

I’ll say goodbye with ease
To all our memories
And I’ll let love evolve
Since my darling,
You let love dissolve

Cry, don’t cry to me
You made this future, baby come to be
Now there’s only poignant me
No three, you see, no you…………just meeeeeeee!  © 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~

Guinea Book-Pig

THE GUINEA BOOK-PIG

At four she was a guinea pig
For a rising college geek
‘Cause the kid was talkative
Perfect brain to take a peek

So the testing started there
Little questions never ended
Hungry little mind was bright
Former life was now suspended

Didn’t jazz and didn’t play
Let her mournful dogs run wild
Didn’t swing and didn’t climb
Became a different, sober child

Read newspapers, wanted more
‘who is what and what is why’
Annoyed the neighbors and her cats
‘tell me how to testify!’

Reading things beyond her years
‘here’s a book, now zip it up’
No one paid attention what--
So she read to fill her cup

In the summer age of seven
Brother studied long and hard
Morte D’Arthur spent the night
Flashing with his mighty sword

Dashing all the summer long
With the heroes of the Table
Rode and battled, saved the day
Brushed her horse in Arthur’s stable

Ulysses sailed in close behind
Wicked Sirens plied their trade
Then a buddy left a Fleming
Full blown sex was then displayed

So she passed the books around
To the friends who had no sources
Little girls with Barbie dolls 
played at passion and divorces

What a start to what a life
Wouldn’t have it changed a bit
But if Mother would have known
Certain she would have had a fit.

By Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
November 30, 2012

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