Long Comical Poems
Long Comical Poems. Below are the most popular long Comical by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Comical poems by poem length and keyword.
The spotlight flashes with a funny flair
on the sagged dress of a meek man on stage.
A miniature crimson cold sun shines stuck
on his puckered porcelain face of forced smile.
An animated caricature captured
in the frame of a comical frail figure,
tramps in inertia round and round
the circus arena to amuse awhile.
The sprightly body swivels in reflex
with the flexed shuffle of acrobatics,
as the sleight of supple hands performs
the perfect act of jugglery.
The labored buffoonery performed
by the funny fragile clown of lost soul,
falls flat as flakes of stale joke
on the silent spectators.
Before the neon lights go out
in the last show and the curtain falls,
the slapsticks peel slowly
the paint off his sweaty face.
The unmasked face trenches the trail of tears,
he has long shed un-noticed.
He leaves the stage singing a song,
the lyric written by his broken heart.
The uproar of laughter at long last
explodes with claps in the gallery.
The applause hails the clown,
left to live the comedy of hollow life.
À propos preponderant passion penning poems...
posited puzzling apt aperçu...
While pondering particular
theme to address
amidst tangled wide, whirled
webbed mental skein
today November third
two thousand twenty two,
unexpected Möbius strip
tease conundrum unforeseen,
yet as avid aspiring wordsmith
only now I became keen,
which unflagging vexillological,
theoretical, rhetorical, philosophical...
narratological, linguistical, judgmatical
historical, fantastical, didactical,
and bibliographical predicament
may not suddenly find me
flush with green
i.e. profuse legal tender,
but merely thought provoking
puzzlement addresses following quandary
stuck within gray matter of pate
impossible mission to differentiate
jagged fine line between
passion and obsession
case in point strong
affinity to write of late,
cuz yours truly susceptible
toward compulsion that doth not abate,
and mind boggling to wed healthy
love of language analogous as mate
nsync with psychological trait,
viz excessive compulsion
diagnosed years gone
by courtesy professional
mental health specialists, did annotate,
and I admit behavior impossible to satiate,
thus generating aforementioned query
how does one (me) segregate
productive interest versus excessive,
née fanatical all consuming -
affinity towards English language
I loopily, quirkily verily narrate
oft times burning midnight oil
(albeit figuratively alluded
to wicked mister Arson Wells) witness
as logophile doth painstakingly toil
bajillion cerebral threads to uncoil,
whereby utilizing figurative tweezers
uprooting, untangling rhyme I embroil
(even using Scooby Doo conditioner)
metaphorically beneath mine royal
hirsute (Scottish) matted topsoil
ultimately bringing in top gun
uncannily resembling gargoyle
shape shifting between
comical characters such as
Popeye and Beetle Bailey
at lightspeed as if
greased with Olive Oyl
so watch out Bluto,
get ready for turmoil!
It was summertime and healing from the winter’s dark
Felt like memories were alone and silent, warring with the doubts
Leaves green and dancing with the breeze, wings of hope
Laughing at the lost moments when we played tag with hide n’ seek
It was a game, summer’s cure for the past that was all pain
Clouds of melancholy folded into shadows where Michael gave us
All the ice cream and root beer we could eat and drink, consume
With overwhelming urgency, appetites for a home cooked meal
Crushed beneath the sugary syrup and cold vanilla breath
It was summertime, before the moon and stars caught up
With twinkle of fireflies in a Mason jar, quarts of shimmering
Lights, delighting our hearts and our thoughts with their breathless
Glow, their embers alive with silent joy, amazing music only
Discovered in the dusk, just before day fled into the ebony distance
It was summertime and Michael wore his camouflage fatigues
After the Army, he never seemed without some tale, flickering images
Moments of comical whims delighting, inviting the twinkles, laughter
In Granny’s clear, blue eyes – alive with the love she had for him
The youngest boy of six siblings, all gone off on their own now
Inspired by the croaking frogs on the edges of a summer evening
Blended with hearts who were beating hope, light, love…
Before Michael would leave, dying beneath the heavy cruelty
His alcoholism wore him down to a shadow of the child she’d known
The man who laughed so that he seemed to vibrate, tremble
With the joy that poured forth from his throat, his wonderous light
It was summertime when he died and I mourned… oh, how I cried
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 11 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
August 3, 2022
Keep it simple, our thoughts are befuddled
Lost in the maze, we are delusional
Ego borne cravings are often tabled
Hermit! Show us the true path, factual
Our dilemma such, it is comical
By spiralling dark thoughts, we are cudgelled
We seek guidance, by direct visual
Keep it simple, our thoughts are befuddled
The path direct, by love we are cuddled
We rest all knowing experiential
Ego mind such, it will have us muddled
Lost in the maze, we are delusional
All we need, is love in our arsenal
Agreeing by divine, to be cajoled
We need patience, the shift is gradual
Ego borne cravings are often tabled
Truth glowing in our heart, cannot be googled
We are the light, we are the miracle
Our innocence from heights has now tumbled
Hermit! Show us the true path, factual
Following love, fragrant and musical
Our centred presence, with bliss thus huddled
Voice of loving conscience infallible
We now stand erect, when once we stumbled
Keep it simple
26-December-2020
Jazz piano scale skip quick notes implore me
Siphon symphony verve blurred by saxophone sass
Floated lilly pad leap frog spring legged surety
Splats on brass buttoned soldiers dedicated amass
Bulbous glass swirl burgundy grape stem bitter
Absorbs oak barrel sentiment, forested persuasion
Ace praise expires, a swiftly swallowed splinter
Comical dive antics of cork fragmenting abrasion
Dissolving Elizabeth, shabbily written character
Simmered limply submissive, a nouveau improvisation
Vat of pursuit poured by Stu picks a passenger
Chords hover mahogany piano cascade syncopation
Composition three minute summit misconstrue
Violins textured crescendo vibrates bow tight strings
Apron strewn, Libby leaves her rolling pin askew
Butter heart hails harmony a true companion brings
22nd January
Stu calls me Jasmine
As a young child I fondly recall
tuning into Desi Arnez and Lucille Ball.
Their chemistry was great and brought
many a guffaw.
Lucy always stumbled in to comical pitfalls,
which culminated in to marital quarrels.
Desi's broken English, always saying,
"Lucy, you got to do some s plaining."
Yet there's nothing funny nor deserving
of a rhyme when one recalls T's presidency
and the rise of hate crimes..
The threats to volunteers who worked at
our polls nor to Mr. Pelosi's tragic hammer blows..
The January 6th attack on our Capitol police,
many still badly traumatized, several now deceased.
Mr. D. Trump has the audacity to want another reigning.
It's time for his MAGA buddies to "do some s plaining."
Have you ever seen Jack in a tutu?
It is not an inspiring sight
His thundering, blundering torso
Can give most ladies a fright!
He thinks he's just so appealing
Can't see why they cringe and recoil
Thinks he's God's gift to women
More like a weighty gargoyle!
He's got a genuine happy heart
Too bad he looks like a blimp
It is hard to avoid staring at Jack
With body hair resembling a chimp!
We haven't the heart to tell him why
The girls all giggle and choke
When he prances around in his tutu
He's an outright comical bloke!
Have you ever seen Jack in a tutu?
A sight you won't forget if you had
This huge abundance of body mass
Jiggling up and down when he's glad!
Deep at heart Tim is a dreamer and longs for 'that' dream
And still and in certain arrest he is a child of gone times
His parents Hans and Ida had told him in misleading terms
‘You can do anything you want. . .’
They meant he’s bright and energetic even perfect and
While they had been kind and full of encouragement
The died long before he would abandon that prison
‘We fought the war and you must be free’
A pragmatist full of rational shackles dead to the core
He ponders for meaning caught up in emotional files
Sits under a canopy of figs and waits for the Buddha
‘I see a forest but where is the tree’
‘They’ say that the path is destination its very own aim
The road arduous and tricky and full of obstacle’s way
Sisyphus’ boulder could encroach the slope of the cliff face
‘Let it go but the harvest needs tilling’
Contradictions keep contravening mindful anticipation
Opposites obscure the harmony of synthesized bliss
Subconscious shadows loom in archetypal struggles
‘The conquest fights the lonely survivor’
Tim forfeits his axes to grind and carves his own shell
Forges gun into ploughshares and picks up a flower
Confuses meditation with mediation and forces the mould
‘Leviathan did not levitate he fell on his sword’
Every now and then he can feel the wind of his change
It might carry him to a rainbow and the Source of it all
Yet while knowledge bodes well it is futile without action
‘His fugue eludes the flute of sweet fruit’
He cannot sit still for he is a doer constrained by performance
But the dog on his shoulders resembles a poodle in a circus
A puppet on strings of comical drama a Pavlovian canine
‘Grin and bear it but do not stay idle’
Unleashed by the fangs of Odysseus Tim travels his underworld
Face down belly up he reaches for breath in a bubble of light
Tears at smears and disguise of a mask larger than Venice
‘All water reaches the ocean’
There are bridges and channels and at long last a pier onto
Which he drags his weatherworn body his mind and his soul
Someone left a message draped in simplicity on the pontoon
‘The sole purpose is living one step at a time’
12th February 2019
THE CIRCLE OF FEAR
It's a world of creatures, great and small,
Living is for all, both big, small, short & tall.
The crocroch, trembling & tiptoeing from the store,
Would scurry away, at the slightest crawl.4
Afraid of a rat, so tiny and little,
Displayed it nerves, halting it tracks in the middle.
But little does it know, the rat's own plight,
For it fears the cat, with all its might.
The cat was its predator, lurking at night.?
With a whisker twitch, eyes full of gleam,
The rat would hide away in the darkest dream.
The rat scurries fast, to escape the cat's chase,
A wild game of survival, in this endless race.¹³
Yet the cat, too, has a fear to bear,
For it dreads the dog, with its fierce stare.
With a fierce bark & teeth that could bite,
The cat would scamper off, as quick as the light.¹7
But the dog, oh the dog, had its own fear.
The man was its nightmare, ever so near.
With a towering presence and booming voice,
The dog would cower, left with no choice.²¹
But the man, who brags boldly before his peers
And walks tall & proud, but hides his fears,
For he's afraid of the woman's mysteries & tears.
Her curves sharpens the man's blurry sight.
The woman was his challenge, day and night.²6
With her wisdom & strength, she held her stance,
The man would falter, in her captivating glance.
Oh, the irony, in this life circle we find,
The fear of a tiny crocroch couldn't be left behind.³°
But the woman had her own quell qualm,
The crocroch was her unease, causing alarm.
With its scales, it seemed so mundane,
The woman would shriek as if driven insane.³4
And so, this fear circle went round & round,
From the crocroch to the rat, with a fear profound.
Each creature trembles in their own peculiar way,
An endless loop, in a comical display.³8
But imagine if they all come together, with cheer,
Realize their anxieties were trivial, nothing to fear.
For in this vast world, where fears intertwine,
Coexistence & courage might make them all shine.4²
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?22nd December 2023
They try too hard
It's comical.
No one,
Absolutely no one,
Should ever,
And I mean, EVER
Sound so desperate
To help someone
They don't know
From a can of paint
Especially from afar,
About fixing
What isn't broken in the first place!
Use common sense;
Be mindful of all
The obvious tells.
Are you being sold a bridge
Too dilapidated to cross?
Is the joker at the other end
Lowering the boom
Of doom on you?
Listen carefully.
Are you being told
To act fast
Before it's too late?
That alone
Should be a clue to
Hang up the phone
With lightning speed -
Click!
Date written: 02/27/2023