Long Cleverest Poems
Long Cleverest Poems. Below are the most popular long Cleverest by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cleverest poems by poem length and keyword.
Wish I was dumb
easily amused
Too thick to get hurt
not care if confused
Walk around half-gone
stare at the whole truth
Shrug my shoulders
right before I shoot
Being dumb’s simple
takes boredom away
too dizzy to feel down
or deflated in any way
Gazes at a cellphone
giggles at silly memes
More so the same sh!t
a billion times seen
Dumb has it good
needs little to do
Stares at the sky
never dawns why it’s blue
Sees a vivid sunset
pulls down the blind
Quickly falls asleep
with a blacked out mind
Dumb wears the T-shirt
gets soaking wet
Catches a fever
believes it’s no sweat
Eats crap all day
doesn’t care if sick
Ends up on a drip
watches it for a kick
Dumb and numb
guitars that won’t strum
A vacant skull
muffled out drum
Won’t beat itself up
as a rule of thumb
My world’s so f•ucked
dumb’s remains plumb
* * *
the world’s cleverest man once said ~ nothing to me ~ he wanted a life
By
David Kavanagh
“Dwellers of the Ancients, is all be seeking The Fallen atop?
Well… be advised and turn back for to entertain he will not
It's been far too long since mortals have come before our sight
And above all, the coming of mortals is often the coming of blight
Yet, curious I am to see what wisdom does all sow to seek?
And mind me, is the outskirts to be still as unpromising and bleak?
Wait a leafy fall! Is that what I think the Amulet is what it is?
Is that really what I dare think to think what I really think IS?
And… The Sword of Sin, and The Bow of Azure and… and!
Oh my one and holy creator of trees and woods, the all-seer blends
I, Twit of the Sylvans have actually stumbled upon The Champions of Light
Me, the cleverest of all, the mightiest of both twilight and night!
The one who oversees and overrules the over-leaves and overall
The most knowledgeable, the most erudite and despite some say The MOST TALL…!
So, I’m Twit in my most humble nature to see to your needs
Your demands will Twit without question have them meet!
What’s it like being a Champion, The Knight of the Word?
Is the Mistress of The Word really ever once a berserker as of rumours heard?
Can the Mistress really heal with her bequeath powers? Though she
don’t look too well now!
Where is her overseer? The white owl that flies alongside around!
And The Defier, the one born just right after you died, remember?
You know, The Askance who ensave The Mistress from whence a berserker?
And of course, the Befallen Angel of Dreams who sacrifice for love
The one who now dwells in awaiting for you to return to serve?
What happened? After you died I mean... pardon Twit who say…
Where have you disappeared to all those time and to than return this day?
Its been more than a hundred years if my intelligent mind can remember precisely
And all this time to only be indulged in my duty given periods indefinitely
Pardon my nature Knight of The Word, have Twit asked much?
How would you like a Sylvan alongside to uplift as such?
Twit can serve in knowledge and in spirit despite being small
And in addition, Twit can assure all be welcomed into the Fallen’s ascendancy hall
So what do you say, Twit be one to join your quest in judiciary?
Indeed, yes?... yes it is… will you excuse me a peck and Twit be back in a jiffy”
Take advantage of those non enduring things,
they are similar in swiftness to evanescent time:
it's the cleverest thief stealing your last dime,
who saves in an amber jar copper pennies?
Does youth only last for twenty brief springs?
Staring into the clearest mirror simply deceives:
that smooth face will no longer glow with beauty,
fine lines and wrinkles could appear after forty!
Wonder why movies stars look younger than us?
It's not privilege or favoritism: it's the tons of money
that make miracles happen: while we turn green with envy;
don't be angry with yourself, avoid any unnecessary stress!
Throw away the expensive cream jars, they create false images,
they can't give back the radiance of lost youth as believed;
Aphrodite knew that secret and kept it locked for endless ages,
Eros was her admirer and lover: no elixir was ever needed!
The Antics Of A Would Be Mama's Yoyo Thief
(now a penchant with less Zionist trenchant ululation to vent.)
Not a peep passed thru mine -
aye vaguely attest
what ten? eleven? twelve? age
of following anecdote at best
guest, but no
doubt yours truly
with figurative heart in chest
scared puny meek boy
tight lipped silently confessed
to foiled attempt, sans trying
unsuccessfully to steal a yoyo,
inviting tummy prepubescent
unbuttoning, a substantially
sprawling Holy skype sizing breast
of mine upon be nabbed,
thus aye didst detest
foolish kid ploy, and
(prematurely nipping
in the bud) messed
up potential life of crime
with first and only
shoplifting heist jest
for getting caught no a pest
key yoyo, mama would
(IF FOUND OUT)
axe me no quest
chin, but whack me itty bitty
teensy weensy derriere lest
quickly putting to rest
any Robin Hood
fantasy life of
high stakes crime pressed,
and squeezed out the noggin
with apropos punishment addressed
thankfully, neither parent
got wind, nor ever guessed
their beautiful darling
boy did test
petty theft, never
matured nor didst crest
into a profitable "yoyo
string Ponzi like
scheme," thus ballsiest
dare devilish and bitterest,
and laughably noble lest
act yours truly ever attempted
immediately ceased to shelve bravest
sleight of hand find
delve during broad est
daylight, I immediately
didst shelve, when clumsiest
initial foray into
the world wide web
tubby come cleverest
lad, this side of
Lansdale, Pennsylvania
many damnedest
yesterdays ago, never
took another earnest
tempting gamble since security
detail nearly wrest
head possible zapped feeblest Ames?
to pilfer from other
Department stores if pressed
for money no matter,
I might miss an enforced
hated ballet class,
with abs salute zest!
Garfield, a loveable famous, lazy cat,
Who likes to eat and eat, that’s why he’s fat,
Jon his companion, Garfield’s friend or foe dude,
On call twenty four seven, to give Garfield food!
The world knows their love hate relationship
And of course Garfield's innermost thoughts,
Each an amusing quip!
He is the cleverest, wittiest cat, he’s a star,
His charm, and fertile mind reaches afar,
He loves to eat, sleep and then to repeat,
His sarcasm no other cat could ever beat.
Garfield regards Jon as his permanent box changer,
Perhaps Jon should give Garfield a thought pager!
Garfield, shouts Jon, why do you everything scratch,
Don’t shout, you silly human, give me a scratch patch!
John emphasises, Garfield you’re lucky, you have
A teddy, a dog called Odie and a loving companion, me
What else could you want, a bowl of lasagne says he!
A mouse runs by, Jon says Garfield catch it, but
Garfield doesn’t like hurting mice,
And so says Garfield’s thought quip,
Will I ever get that through your thick skull,
Or do I always have to give you an earful!
Garfield teases big angry looking dogs, makes
Faces at them, and when they chase him,
Runs to Jon who picks him up and then Garfield takes
Advantage as he sticks his tongue out,
So the dogs attack them both, Jon
Scolds Garfield who looks at Jon, with a pout!
Garfield cartons were recognised and awarded
Top honours and were rewarded
With accolades, in the Guinness Book of Records
Congratulations to the author the late Jim Davis,
Who made billions and achieved worldwide status,
And who created these wonderful characters,
Manipulative and coffee dependant Garfield,
Not forgetting Odie and Jon,
All of who brought us laughs by the ton!
Garfield was an era, a striped, intelligent thinking cat,
Who refused to ever hurt a mouse, that’s a fact,
But who could eat lasagne every day of his life
As his greed for this meal was truly rife!
I could carry on forever, but will end with what
I think is a laugh,
Jon asks Garfield why he has got such a lot of
Junk in his bed,
Oh this, Garfield grins, it’s a whack bonk, with which
I am about to hit your head,
Our furry friend sarcastically said,
Rather, thought in the quip,
It’s a wonder that Jon didn’t chase him with the
Scissors, and go snip, snip!
For me burning daylight invites me to the black
It's not that I don't like daylight, for I'll never lack
If I'm ever to prowl whether it's amidst the dark, light
It's being the cleverest, within either I'm out of sight
Have you ever walked behind someone oh so quiet
Can you simply imagine, their strolling quiet riot
To even stand beside, in an Otis lift, we're alone
We in burning daylight, whom does whom belong
Sitting in a restaurant, all alone with no chaperon
Whether it's burning daylight, who does who own
For me burning daylight invites me to the black
To venture into the black, then I'll soon relax
Teach Me, My Leader
Teach me, my leader,
Your magical art,
How roads become dust,
Before they can start,
How roads become quarry,
Yet you budgeted,
Yet money walks proudly,
Straight from your bags,
Dished out to empower us,
Though not budgeted,
But meant to uplift desperate souls.
Teach me, my leader,
Your wonderful skill,
How bridges are planned,
Then vanish at will,
And instead culverts raised,
To be swept when rains become heavy,
While your pockets grow heavy,
Big enough to have extra coin,
To grant a overwhelming support,
In burial of the man swept away by waters,
Who desperately wanted to die,
For he tempted the roaring waters,
Crossing a dangling bridge.
Teach me, my leader,
Your cleverest game,
How hospitals crumble and stink,
For lack of water,
Yet budgets still came,
The sick cry for medicine,
You smile all the same,
For they are directed to your chemist,
And indeed should be grateful for the enormous supply.
Teach me, my leader,
Your wisdom so rare,
How schools lose their roofs,
How school walls are nothing but emptiness,
Or better still, mud,
How this classroom teacher is so unschooled,
Can't effectively manage a hundred pupils in class,
Yet your mansions keep rising,
Like castles in air.
Teach me, my leader,
To speak as you do,
Confidently promising heaven,
With hell in view,
Teach me the art of speech,
Teach me my leader, the art of rhetoric,
Which drives them lunatics,
And chant your name at will,
While you punitively harvest taxes,
Living them desperately seek you,
For you're a little God for them.
Will you teach me this science my leader?
Will you teach me this art my leader ?
I hope you won't.
We eat and drink to stay alive
But we need more to truly thrive;
For though our drinking and our eating
Keeps that central organ beating,
We’re aware, despite each thud,
That hearts require more than blood.
With our brains, they intertwine,
Nature’s cleverest design,
Providing what we need to grow –
Only if we nurture, though.
Sustenance must thus be sought;
How to get it can’t be taught.
Each of us must find our way;
Some get lost and others stray.
Still, we struggle and we seek
For that which makes us each unique.
When we find it, we will bloom,
Spouting buds of sweet perfume.
Every being has the power
With some help, to rise and flower.
Oh, no revengeful girl,
don't step on my toe...
thinking it won't hurt;
weren't you a precious pearl?
Oh no, you go from friend to foe,
digging up unnecessary dirt!
Stop going around in mad circles,
you can try to hide every truth;
no, the cleverest scheme is not worth
stirring up the water with pebbles!
Oh, no I have spoiled you enough,
it's time to be really tough;
change gear and speed,
don't show your greed!
If this guy denies you everything
is because you fake all feeling;
oh, no, odds have been in your favor,
oh, no, lying changes all flavor!
Oh, no, no, don't step on my toe,
oh, no, you go from friend to foe;
oh, yeah, treasure our friendship,
oh, yeah save this sinking ship!
Over in the corner of Grandma McDuck’s Farm House
Was the cutest little bunch of kittens, and a quite dead mouse.
We ran over to look and squealed about the large cow.
The carcass was removed, and those baby kittens began to meow.
Wait until you see the cute exotic one, Grandma said.
He is just darling with the prettiest bluest eyes in his head.
He was jumping around a forklift, pulling a lever.
I said “What did you name him? I was thinking of Clever.”
“Clever it is,” Grandma McDuck quickly agreed, tickled.
He was now chugging down some warm cider, duly pickled.
I taught him to ski, swim, hike, and ride a bike without any paw.
He was the cleverest prettiest kitten that I ever saw.
Living up to his name, he played a clarinet in the band.
He wore exotic clothing and traveled everywhere in the land.
We see billboards telling about Clever when he comes close to town.
He truly is the cleverest cat we have ever raised or found.