Long Cringe Poems
Long Cringe Poems. Below are the most popular long Cringe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cringe poems by poem length and keyword.
A BUNCH OF “WHY'S”
Could you tell me why most hippopotami
Weigh about the same as a truck
In the animal kingdom diets aren't common
So they're really poop out of luck
A donkey with wings or an ass that sings
Quite an image I have in my mind
Some like listening to a cockatoo warble
But I think that's quite asinine
Now why do most newborns poop at will
They emerge without any manners
Farting in front of friends and neighbours
Sure makes you stutter and stammer
When misplacing an important document
You find it in the last place you look
Why not look there in the first place I wonder
You'll be stunned at the short time it took
Admit I ain't perfect but who the hell is
Sometimes I dribble in my beard
Imagine it sounds quite disgusting to you guys
A snack for when bedtime is near
Why do we cringe at the sound of one's nails
Screeching across a blackboard
Sends chills up and down our li'l ole spines
Can feel 'em right now, oh Lord!
I sit, this morn, on the bed of
A dried-up rivulet,
Head-bent and full of compunction.
It’s clam-quiet except for the impatient
Squawks above which prompt my heartbeat.
I raise my head, heavy with grief.
Climbers and weevils align in a silent choir,
Singing with precision the lines of a forgotten
Mirth.
It’s 5 o’clock in the morning — a time when
Cockcrows are loud enough to wake the dead.
I cringe and slink as I traipse about in the dead woods,
Among the cadavers of river plants, decimated,
Deserted, and vitiated through seasons’ flagrant ebb.
I see shadows that sing with their mouths tightly shut.
Like them all, I, too, am lonesome, and I draw about me
The dry waves of parched waters.
On my lips is a certain prayer — a revised edition of the
Paternoster.
Return, waters, return from the underrocks, I pray thee.
My sorrows are old and fragile.
Hoots and cries and stridulations beseech me.
I have picked my way among paths that
Cuddle the feet in sympathy and soothe
The souls that hide from the earnestness of
Sunrise.
Wash my dry naked feet, O waters,
And grease my palms so cracked from
Endless chafing.
A man was sick and he loved to kill.
Committing murder gave him a thrill.
He stabbed people and shot some with guns.
Human beings meant nothing to him, it was fun.
He cut a man's heart out and it's enough to make people cringe.
Seeing his dad kill himself is what caused him to come unhinged.
He sneaked up behind a woman and slit her throat.
He was proud of the killings and decided to gloat.
Gloating was what caused him to be caught by the cops.
People are very thankful because he has been stopped.
When people found out that he was the killer, it was a big surprise.
He is locked up in an insane asylum and will be there until he dies.
A true great honor
walking upright
no way a fawner
alert and bright
under the spotlight
a bestowed pride
relish the limelight
not cringe or hide
parade avenues
take in the thrill
happiness renews
shrimps on the grill
highlights of glory
those who are brave
enables story
they're all they gave
but truly noted
be they known stoics
can they be gloated
of their heroics
can we ever know
love like agape
no one that they show
nor do they say
war wounded they save
but can be said
they pray by that grave
The Unknown Dead.
A funeral is not the place when you find you need to laugh
Here is my true story about my little gaffe
I hope this poem does not offend
It is written in memory of a very special friend
My father’s friend had passed away
And to the church we went that day
I was heavily pregnant and feeling glum
And awaiting the birth of my lovely son
The priest he came from a foreign land
His words we found hard to understand
When he said the words ‘let us pray’
I bowed my head and heard him say…….
‘Heavenly Farter’ (I cannot remember the rest)
For tears of laughter were falling onto my chest
The more I tried to stifle my laughter
The worse I became, it was a total disaster
I got a hanky to suppress the giggle
My shoulders up and down they did wriggle
Tears were flowing from my eyes
My husband looked at me with great surprise
He took me by the hand and we left the church
On the pretext I was so upset and needed a quiet place to perch
Outside the church my laughter freely flowed
My eyes were shiny and my cheeks they glowed
When my father finally came out
I told him of the priest’s error and at me he did not shout
He decided he better have a ‘quiet word’
Their conversation it was not overheard
On our next visit to the Catholic Church
Out of the building I hoped I would not have to lurch
I got ready to bow my head to pray
And then I heard the priest say ……
HEAVENLY FARZER! Oh thank the lord
My father’s words he had taken on board
Now when I hear the words ‘let us pray’
I cringe and remember that awful day
Jan Allison
7th February 2014
Contest The Poet III
sponsored by Gautami Phookan
~awarded 3rd place~
She is a teen
No idea she is gorgeous
Trying to be like other teens
Not recognizing her own talents and uniqueness
They wear a streak of blue in their hair, so she does too
The “popular” teens, the ones she emulates
Not recognizing her own talents or strengths
I watch her try to fit into their unimaginative boxes, and I cringe.
She is all that and more.
She has no idea yet
She will one day, but for now
It is enough to wear the blue streak and feel popular
She will not remember this when she has her own teen
Wondering why they are trying so hard
To be something less than themselves
I watch and say nothing
I feel life breaking a glass, any glass
Or screaming at anyone with or without cause
For now, my breath and tears find no rest,
Seething on a bomb of fury, time claims a place
For rage piercing through my gut too deep...
I never knew he has gone beyond the stars
My soul hemorrhaged, my innocence vandalized--
Please tell me this is night's cruel illusion
Night prayers dripping stains of candle wax!
I blow like a dam but only silence hits back
My damn, damn being cries for hallowed nest
While he has traveled off in a land without maze,
And I continue to cringe...searching for
Quiet within an unforgiving self
I drown in explosions of why...
Why is Daddy suddenly dead?
I cringe at the thought of writing
the worst verse in the universe.
I would have to light a match
and set fire to every ridiculous word
if someone thought it so terrible
and their criticism I had overheard.
But if all of the words were my own
I would smile and take it in stride
knowing that I had not plagiarized
the written poetry or lyrics of another.
I would never do that to a song writer
or steal the poems of a poetry brother.
I could never intentionally misspell
any word when a dictionary is handy.
Sometimes I decide to punctuate verses,
and sometimes I leave the cage door open
It depends on the mood I happen to be in...
happy with what I written, or if I'm mopin'
You ask, "To rhyme or not to rhyme..."
that's never the right question for me.
I never worry about how, why or when...
I just follow the path my hunger leads
cuz when it's feeding time, my mind is open
to plant rose clippings or wildflowers seeds.
In lighthearted Limericks I sometimes write
bawdy lines that might raise an eyebrow
but not even then would I sabotage the form
I think my hand would tremble and shake
if I made mistakes on purpose.... hmmm no
and if I had a Muse, her heart would break.
*Obviously NOT written for a contest
I saw within the midst of it all,
The language, the idols.. the culture and history of the fall,
As if they owned the language and created these words long ago,
And the population just doesn't know,
Groups upon groups of layers unseen,
Claiming this is how we built our societies,
Staging fools to ruin and desensitizing their beliefs,
When Jesus came to set their hearts free,
Claiming they started words, taking out, and added to,
That they have been more in control of what we all knew,
You say in Jesus name..they cringe at the sight,
Using man's words and meanings against them, counteracting with loves might,
He will ruin our plots and ruin our plans,
To control the people and control the land,
The one who came here and fought for loves behalf,
Who sacrificed his entire life for the love of man,
Yet isn't it enough for everyone to see,
When you say Jesus name their animosity,
Because it's the opposite, and they want control,
Love counteracts all the knowledge of what they think they know.
. ...........
I speak of Light's love, gracious in glory of peaked devotion
Where bough and sky design life’s pure expression
As I reflect on His divine lamb’s Grand Plan
A vessel am I… cupped on reassuring, gentle hand
When I cringe while waiting long prayer’s request
Discerning that “later” is not a tick of denial possessed,
Rather a sweet delay to steel my courage that by His will
Not mine, seeds of my heart buds, highest good to softly till
In His flow and those whose lives I touch with or without pause
Daily gifts of bread enshrine fabric of Calvary’s gauze
Like always, through summer’s fire and glistening of winter glow,
His union with worlds tames souls reflecting itself as ALL of YOU
Within the everything-of –everything mankind shares gladness
Oh, Intimate One as timeless shepherd of brotherly ONEness,
We transcend time passing through test of fire to unfold
As children of peace, beloved’s blessings transformed... Behold!
©
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for DaneAnne Smith-Johnsen's Didactic by nette onclaud