Long Churlish Poems
Long Churlish Poems. Below are the most popular long Churlish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Churlish poems by poem length and keyword.
Sands of time runneth out
stout whistleblowers must apply clout
to affect the commander in chief forced...
send him back his favorite mantra,
that churlish, childish and cheapish tricky lout
arrogant, defiant, haughty... without doubt
exceeded probation apprenticed, I shout
out, his poor performance absolute zero
as presidential material about
effective electing trout
as huff fish hint leader of America
rather less so - hook, line and sinker
"FAKE" laurels he cannot hard dilly tout
running democracy regarding
United States of America aground,
while out dough faced mouth blowout
vitriolic vile, noxious, crude... invectives
his anger doth spout
frothily fuming, lividly
lashing, rabidly raging...
trademark MAGA flout
sulking with juvenile pout
vamoose with him
and ilk poisoning
Lady Liberty's body with gout
cantankerous malignant cancerous canker
breeding, bleeding, besotting devout
dereliction evincing hangdog look
barking, growling, snapping... snout
fondling, groping, harassing...,
analogous to pedophile scout
wily, vehemently, unseemly, sacrilegious
behaviour in apropos devout
floundering, grounding, hijacking...,
ship of state into sauerkraut
agent provocateur on warpath
doomsday clock inching closer
to armageddon drought
will prevail across Earth
global thermonuclear fallout.
when into scaly claws, sans first
to sixth grade Precambrian relic
(Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse,
Missus Wells, Mister Stout, Missus Shaner,
or Miss Rinderle).
Invariably the majority
of elementary grades didst accord
accredited ancient authenticated creatures bored
(with exception of sixth)
freely exercised diabolical chord
churlish beastial animalistic
zealous yakking, wickedly,
aye (a basket case) deplored
unprintable (epithets) this then
(unprincipled urchin) puny pupil felt lord
did over whacked, sans receiving end,
viz fiendishly gruesome
hellish instructions mean teacher scored.
Assignments buttressed with ultimatums
harkening back to Jurassic period earlier
in the dawning primate consciousness.
Lesson material kindled justifiable license
in league garnered insignia heft brought pupils
to heal predicated, via warpped weft woven
wonderfully wrought writs welcomed whips
with warranty whenever recalcitrant ruffian
refused respecting reptilian rubric representative
saber rattling, where...
(The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver
of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will
Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do),
which loosely rendered regularly warbled
wishy washy verse curmudgeons freedom
granted to interpret as one decrepit, hawkish
insignia certified one beaming Eve and/or
stud deed brute soffit.
Education often relied on the weekly reader,
and letters to or from Aunt Emma to this Jack,
oh napeswho never wrote back
sheesh, alas and alack.
Nefarious mean linkedin kickstarter jawboning
torturous treatment tolerated, asper imps
of pervert, mutant Ninja Turtles duty bound
antsy youthful yokel yodelers weathering ululating
sing-song quintessential precepts.
adieu:
math a hew
scott harris a gentile Jew
all ways felt like new
kid on the block isolated
in his hermetically sealed queue
pay perm ash shay watched per view
whew
at last in conk clew shun to you
from one primate within the human zoo.
Here we
Here we
Here we ing go
Snarled from within the orange
comfort glow
as i passed
by local pub
Churlish laughter
from a lass
searching for the knight
to give her forever after
ends up with a bastard
Cough and sneezed diseased
Staring at their feet
drawing on paper sleeves
deformed amber gargoyles features
choking on the winters cause
Music tremors ripple
blackened puddles
Not a t-rex in sight
snuggle my own collar
Blowing smoke and mist
Focus on the point
where both mix
Fermented caveman scrawls
echo
and trundle
through
through
a chill that kills the air
Aired secrets crumble
beneath a love undone
the ghost child
waiting outside for a father
that will never come
Take a step
perhaps to be the last
Losing grasp
feeling through the darkness
for homes path.
Out of the pot of Nature's Heritage we were created.
The taste of originality to savor, such novelty to behold.
Fearfully and wonderfully adorned with a spirit nurtured as a replica of our being.
A magnificent culture of beauty who have under-taken as a task,
In the misconception of thousand ways to keep such aesthetics alight.
Rather than lived out the beauty of our souls,
Focusing on the weightier matters, are fastened on outward frivolities.
Baked earth marked with easy simplicity and freedom from artificiality.
Rather left a congenital appearance to be remarked, remodeled and redesigned with embellishments.
Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies.
Consider the great beauty in the heart of the Queen of many Queens.
One of Esther, a fair and beautiful maid of whom the royal crown was placed upon her head.
Bore and carried upon her shoulder the pains and burdens of her people, travailed much but overcame.
Abigail, a woman of good understanding and a beautiful countenance with graciousness,
Averted the mischief wrought by Nabal her churlish husband.
Reflect on the beauty of the courage Deborah seised, serving as a judge to the Lord's people.
Fought in the face of danger as Sisera was sold into her hands.
Contemplate the amount of love Tabitha a woman full of good works and alms-deed possessed,
That even at death her folks would rather she lived again than lay helpless to death.
Ex-cogitate the excellency of the fulfillment of everlasting covenant,
The lord established through a seed from the barren womb of Sarah.
Ruminate over the determination of a virtuous Ruth,
From a low estate Mary, blessed among all women of whose seed is the king of kings.
A chew-over ambit an acquisition of a quintessential perspective.
I have tied the knot
with someone new:
he who wooed his way
to the world recreated
inside my wishful eyes
Once again I live in a
Sweet Home where windows
are shut and I bear the
privilege to run the show
I am married to another
sparkling tale, a sudden vow
gleaned from the years of
my sappy writing
It's more like I script I
relish crafting and a feeling
I find engaging, named after
a boy that fits my happy ending
With his voice more euphonic
than any music in the background,
and his smile can stymie any churlish
sound, my current favorite record,
partially a luxury I can afford
Because I forged a special role for him
and I've made a movie star out of myself
in this dream, a convenient storytelling
to ascertain that Love Doesn't Hurt
albeit the echoes of my breaking
-Nicola An
You Fall ...
the ground of your reality dissolves in this
stream of distraction, this inconvenient passion
the mawkish pop music you mock
is now singing your story, as
your thoughts, your breath, your blood
all consumed by his eyes, his voice, his words
all the moments of his notice of you
painting your gray paper with extrinsic purple
and lavish green, filling your thirsty cup
with intoxicating attention, until time
is measured only by your meetings
You Stall...
hitting the invisible, inimical wall
penalized and ostracized
for presuming the right to ask why
for waking from complicit worship
for retaking your will and your mind
for staining his golden idol
with faith of the atheist
You Call...
for all his proud proclamations
he is a needy, greedy child
your adoration is his sun
your life force he feasts on
disenchantment is your release
from the prison of submission
his hollow heart, his churlish charm
all merely a false alarm-
9/10/18
Who takes proud credit for their fate?
Whose perverse words reverberate?
A person who's long shown disdain
For women in his churlish brain:
Someone whose true convictions are
Adjudicated at the Bar.
One Who's at fault for things now wrought.
---------------------------
And, who complies with this assault
On women's rights without a halt?
The faux consevative demands
Enacting state enforcement bans:
These "Red State" rogues have been the cause
Of pain, and suffering - and loss.
The ones who follow without thought.
--------------------------
If there's one thing we could abort -
The now empowered "Dred Scott" Court.
"Injustices" who took their seats
Enabled by replete deceits:
Empaneled through a bank of lies -
False testimonies in disguise.
The ones whose favors now are sought.
-------------------------
But, there's a cure for these extremes,
These crass undemocratic schemes:
Turn out on next election day
And vote to reverse this decay.
-------------------------
Yet, recent events have changed the landscape
And with them we recall this quote
By President John Adams -
Which casts an ominous shadow:
"Remember, democracy never lasts long.
It soon wastes, exhausts and murders itself.
There never was a democracy yet that did not commit suicide."
her life had started out small and churlish
named Maude, she never felt pretty or girlish
of all the names, that might have been the worse one
she never played like others, did not have fun
her parents were frightened to let her outside
she became so paranoid, when kids came, she would hide
but after she became a ghost, all fear faded away
She decided to live her ghost-hood, determined to play
She got bolder, bigger and better, with each fleeting year
Her parents could no longer stifle her, they were not near
She was all that now, glitzy and pretty, living her best life
Thrilled that she was more than cutting it, she renamed herself Knife
With just a swirl, she flirts with you-
brash churlish curves in surly sway.
At morning’s blush with mist infused;
her dress unfurls in rose tinged gray.
She flirts with you in surly sway.
In midday sun, her tresses – teal,
slyly tossed from bend to bend.
She wakes in you, a puerile zeal,
with every wink her cascades lend.
A puerile zeal, from bend to bend.
A pas de deux, to you she bids,
in undulating moonlit swells.
Pied pirouettes - charmed hearts amid;
immerse your soul to feel the spell…
To you she bids, to feel the spell.
Manassian Quintain - Poetry Contest
11 Jan 2015
“Philosykos”
Coerced I was enticed to enter their incohesive world
my mind bleeds like black currents aross the water-colour page
forming strange language electric messages l’eau papier imprints uncompleted
sparks form and burn through the walls of churlish Eden to the outer existence
the inner world of freedom, naked and open, I’ve become Philosykos
I strip the bark down
love notes written
kisses tasting like Eden’s sweetest
hand-fed mindless figs with mercy
teasing juicy red apples
undressed like an envelope
naked and open
Candide Diderot. ‘25
“In Greek, "Philosykos" translates to "friend of the fig tree". This name is derived from the Greek words "philos", meaning friend, and "sykon", meaning fig.”
“As ink soaks into a sheet of white paper, shadows emerge. Worlds are invented. L'Eau Papier celebrates the power of the imagination – that moment, suspended in time, when ink, paper and the hand become one. In L'Eau Papier, white musks are delicately faceted by an accord of rice steam, evoking the grain of the paper. To these are added luminous notes of mimosa, while a backdrop of blonde wood tones grounds L'Eau Papier in the material itself.”
"Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden"
Wenzel Peter, (Karlsbad 1745 - Rome 1829), oil on canvas, Vatican Museums
"The Garden of Eden with the Fall of Man or The Earthly Paradise with the Fall of Adam and Eve"
Peter Paul Rubens, Jan Brueghel the Elder (1615), oil on panel,
Mauritshuis, The Hague