Long De facto Poems

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


Charge D Affaires Struck By Lightning Bolt

Charge d'affaires struck by lightning bolt

While high falutin dip low matt
flying his kite insurgents
planned coup d'etat
clear out of blue, a devilish
forked, jagged, knifed
dagger "O" type electric current licked

more'n the pants off harried envoy
clear rants heard
all the way to Timbuktu
damn donnybrook loosing mayhem
special averred ambassador
last best hope

thwarting total mortal Kombat
Zeus bribed - putin two and two...
together spelled collusion
arch enemies of democracy de facto
2020 election in cahoots,
whereby sore loser trumped,

activated thinly veiled plot
made good diabolical promise
demanding winning or else
"ye ain't seen nuttin"
imposing himself victor
nee, declaring tyrannical 

prince sup pulled "purple" reign,
despite just shy winning majority
crowed as "FAKE" optical illusion
claimed apparatchik infiltrated
voting booths rigged
machination stole courtesy

bounty on mutiny playbook page,
the average joe buyed
entire hook, sink, and liner
titanic ruse to unseat
all time self crowned best president,
apprentice skills garnered

thru "art of the deal,"
albeit machiavellian
who refused to admit defeat
usurped, proclaimed, kindled... diktat upon
those opposed driving fiat
vis a vis disallowing, discharging,

disenabling, disguising, distilling
carving up United States
in league courtesy
best buddies Kim Jong Un
populace will pay price
bear every burden

every hardship el don jon doth
punishingly mete out
recruiting military modern
death cab for cutie squads
dirty deeds done dirt cheap
personal vendetta and vengeance

as just desserts
succeeding presidential term
to abdicate pronto
lest civilization bombed
back into stone age
no matter enfranchisement
law within lady liberty land,

nonetheless he decreed
global hegemony forever
pressed hot button
omnipresent nightmare manifest destiny
global destruction unleashed
threatened to obliterate
every last trace of mankind!


Pleasingly Plump Praiseworthy Princesses

(a quid pro quo plug for zaftig women)

women that tip weigh ling needle to spin vicious circle
     akin to puppy chasing her/his tail
     or require digital scale,
at the extreme alt right registering heavy 
     ba Jill 'en Jack knifed pail loads   
     whether young or old ought to be appreciated

     not waifer thin self starved as a rail,
instead they suffer unfair injustice
     like a trapped quivering quail
thus this fatalistic, generic,
     and holistic landlubber
     wanted to point head lee 
     hammer home one secure
     heterosexual bondage stronger than

     omnipotent Marcy's Playground
     weather beaten pail
     Trent Reznor's sixty 9 inch rust free steel nail
into the coffin of bias
     against bevy of beautiful babes
     within the mind of this male,
who inherited genetic predisposition
     for being average, hearty and hale

yet feel compassion for those engaged
     in an ongoing with battle of the bulge,
     hmm... perhaps hiding ample bosom
     akin to milky sopping wet grail
or accepted unequivocally themselves
     without envy of lithesome women,
     who seem to possess flair with nary a flail
     yet possess much love to avail,

and tis wise to love oneself unconditionally
     despite premium aesthetics considered svelte
which mass media accentuates de facto spelt
definition of femininity aka runway models
     donned in faux animal pelt
whose deliberate self exhibition
     prompts madding crowd of man

     to waggle tongue with slack jaws  
     as if ready to melt
or at instantaneous signal telepathically felt
drop drawers upon removing blackbelt.

Driving Thru Rat Race Maze

I ain't gonna brag, boast, blab...,
lest yours truly suffers demise from backstab,
resignedly taking wheel of our automobile
donning, (but NOT trumpeting) 
role as taxi cab

shuttling the missus, (she effusively glad)
to medical appointment
me, the obliging husband
in order for this mister former cad,
debt, now an ordinary dude dad,

who upon snaking, crab
like sighing, shimmying, scooching...
thru bumper to (rubber 
baby buggy) bumper drab
morning commute, which 

snail's pace spurred shoutout, via ab 
dom men null controlled app     
designed by A. Habb,
which homonym identical 
sound of descendent, sans faint jab,

asper fictitious Capt'n of Pequod 
at sea vis a vis 
if forced to snatch macadam landgrab
all the while aye spent gab
bing maintaining mindful outlook 

for aggressive drivers,
whose cold icy stare 
felt akin to painful jab
methought best not to "flip the bird"
subsequently get rushed

to emergency medical lab
avoided, cuz aye hapt tubby vigilant
for brazen drivers, plus additionally
keeping keen eye for police ready to nab
speed demons (mailer or female) even nawab

receiving citation for traffic infraction
and if repeat offender sent to rehab
with license revoked,
nonetheless a slight stab
of anxiety as appointment time elapsed

indicated by built in digital clock
no matter arriving after 7:45 am time
my de facto role as chauffeur,
the wife would disfrock,
but fortunately excuse, sans gridlock

did not necessitate need
us to return at later date, thus no knock
kin wind out figurative sails, hence
circumstance did not
find me laughingstock,

thus any consideration, asper myself
resorting to quaffing hemlock
unnecessary honorable sacrifice,
that versus engaging in lethal warlock
additionally compromising private uber
to give spouse coveted lyft.

Boink Goes This Ratty Guinea Pig

Aye pride myself
     being sui generis 
     verb hose subject for a zoologist,
cuz webbed phalanges

     branch handsomely
     from mine feet and wrist,
where perforce great expectations,
     asper the next greatest (I SCREAM)

     scoop of the month intimated,
     conducted under top secret
     controlled laboratory conditions
     with yours truly (as the de facto

     par excellence)
     rodent named "Oliver twist"
Lady Dedlock key ping
     watchful eye within bleak house,

while Thomas Gradgrind 
     feigns tubby bad company
     during these hard times 
     temporarily all quietest

lull on the western front
     since Donald Trump
     detente foretold by a palmist,
whereby said President

     of the United States
     feeling as an optimist
met with Kim Jong-un, 
     (cautiously side stepping morass,
     viz hit blind side dare devil hoodwinking,
     via awe shucks faux bully)

     suspending noninterventionist
impact unexpectedly witnessed leader
     of North Korea as multilateralist
     on historic June 12, 2018,

     summit minus linguist,
where fist pumping in Singapore
     for unilateral negotiations
     offloading nationalism
 
     weighing down
     figurative chest i.e. kist
by resplendent sun, where ma lounge
     sotto voce, somber solemnly
     sober ensemble re: joist

uniting this stately isolationist,
whose approximate
      ten stone heft easy to hoist
merely sustains purposelessness

     this poem without a gist
hence if Yukon spare one
     (or more cruxes) lemme be fist
in line, though first, aye
     would need to convince thee
     this scribe doth exist!

Uneasy Mantra of Brinkmanship

Intermediate Range Nuclear Forces 
(INF) Treaty nixed, asper (gasp) infinite
wisdom (quite unsettling) trumpeting  
commander in chief de facto gave green

light, thus signals fasttrack, sans arms 
race activating Armageddon churning 
noble nuclear warheads damn the (not 
so petty) torpedoes full steam ahead,

ramping up military industrial (intelligence
- ha) complex edifice global security
compromised detente tipping point
needle weighs heavily - scale lean

triangulation ratchets dramatic
apocalyptic fear each man knucled
(woman child) arms themselves to
the teeth bombs away doth not leave

mushroom to wiggle free of doom,
the human race on track to extinction
since the commander in chief did
rescind checks and balances on rogue

nations, now issuing free (grab bag)
for all warmongering states to stock
on fire sale of various and sundry
weapons of mass destruction ushering

exponential possibility slight sabre
rattling altercations will kickstart
World War III, but no victors will
emerge cuz every square inch of planet

Earth will be snapping, crackling
and popping with radiation fostering
disintegration, incineration, obliteration...,
among civilization with minuscule probability

no child will be left behind, (nor anybody
else for that matter), yet one need
not be a brain scientist, nor rocket
surgeon to predict the end of the world

as we know it (REM) minding any weekly
reader of TIME magazine, or other
reputable news source (such as Howard
Stern), any moment could deliver every
thing each of us cherish to go to hell in

a handbasket of deplorables) predicated
on the isolationist (nationalistic) posture
our dear leader steers this ship (unwieldy
leviathan) of state into totally tubular
unswerving pulverization!


Quick Tips

Try a brisk walk at night, 
Igniting fire through ice, 
It might burn, bite or beat you, 
But you'll swear it feels nice.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Stare back at a stranger, 
If their look starts to burn, 
You'll notice their angst, 
Once they know it's your turn.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Don't reach to extinguish, 
Your ignited tobacco, 
Across dinners or drinks, 
As ashes fall in de facto.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two drunks at a bar, 
If smarmy, cheap males, 
Will cease to exist, 
By all mammals or females.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If you guzzle or sip, 
It goes down just the same, 
And the only true difference: 
The length of your game.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Don't drink and drive, 
You can't go very far, 
Because the door you can't open, 
Psst, isn't your car.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Have sex with a friend, 
Maybe two, three or four, 
If you don't, someone might, 
And next time, they'll ignore.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ask Marco, wine guru, 
If it tastes good or bad, 
The next you select, 
You'll ferment, just a tad.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If you smoke on the job, 
Remember to render, 
The air, clean and free, 
Before returning to sender.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When two lesbians chat, 
They display their demeanor, 
Without reference or rapture, 
For your decadent wiener.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Pouring more than you drink, 
Is considered a virtue, 
Because reversing osmosis, 
Can only just hurt you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If you're gay and you know it, 
Show those not, some respect, 
Keep it reverent and subtle, 
Spare us all when erect.


(12/30/01)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Rules of The New World Order: AKA The 11 Commandments

Rule # 0: We alone write the Rules (and We use them as tools when We murder the ‘mules’)

Rule # 1: Our Intentions are torqued (double Standards well forked as Our Wars are uncorked)

Rule # 2a: what We do defines Legal (no need to inveigle, decrees the Bald Eagle)
Rule # 2b: yes, Our Rules are The Rules (and those rules not Our Rules are de facto not Rules)
 Rule # 2c: for Our Rules make Our might (the blind see it’s alright and sleep tight through the night)

Rule # 3a: yes, Our word must suffice (and will surely be nice, laced with sugar or spice)
Rule # 3b: never dare throw the dice (or to be more concise, never think once or twice)
Rule # 3c: simply take Our advice (which is but a small price to avoid sacrifice)

Rule # 4a: once We’ve come We’ll be staying (midst shells ricocheting, and bodies decaying)
Rule # 4b: night and day We’ll be preying (ignoring the slaying, no need to be praying) 

Rule # 5: homegrown press heeds The Rules (helping fire Our fuels, by convincing the fools)
 
Rule # 6: ‘ebon black’ is Our white (definition of ‘light’ in the dead of the night)

Rule # 7a: We’re the cops of the world (with Our justice well hurled, when Our arms are unfurled)
Rule # 7b: if We lose, ‘lose’ means WIN (being experts at spin, need We twirl it again?)

Rule # 8a: what they think theirs, is Ours (’cause We’ve got all the powers to plant them ’neath flowers)
Rule # 8b: so WE loot where We like (and if need be WE strike, thus enriching Our reich)
Rule # 8c: Our invasions? defensive (for allies expensive, with sanctions intensive)

Rule # 9a: We can kidnap at will (and if need be We’ll kill, while the mocking birds trill) 
Rule # 9b: yes, We kill when We chose (in Our faraway coups, where We’ve nothing to lose)
Rule # 9c: and We take ’cause We’re needy (and they? ’cause they’re greedy, which seems kinda seedy)

Rule # 10a: join Our new ‘Bored of Peace’ (thereby helping Us fleece; Our pale palms need the grease!)
Rule # 10b: costs a billion, not more (supporting the war for the company store)

Rule # 11: best abide by Our Rules! (else We cut off your jewels and feed you Our stools)
Form: Rhyme

Onerous Task Confronts Teachers and Parents Part One

The following reasonable obsolete rhyme
verst heard in my faux class (sic) lilting brogue
courtesy coronavirus (COVID-19) rogue
wrought approximate sixth month academic hiatus
nevertheless September 1st, 2020
signals resumption of school year back in vogue.

Challenges abound as millions of students re:zoom
trudging off to..., yet another bus comes by... vroom,
whereby administrators establish 
virtual and/or actual room
adapt to delegate assignments as reported by newsroom
facilitated by yours truly,
a bonafide married, yet unbridled groom.

Though mind boggling, death defying,
and harrowing scenario daring to crisscross
(dangerous information highway road)
will confront those most qualified to teach
impressionable minds to overload
nevertheless I envy those learning
courtesy high tech mode.

Golden (gated) opportunity
spectacularly presented to bridge, 
kickstart, and buttress  young minds
immodestly excited and
amenable to learn online

one old googly eyed
aging pencil necked geek
makes his poetically cameo appearance
crafting awareness about severe complication
hash-tagging those best equipped to teach,

which alternatives pinterest me
linkedin, trumpeted nsync with
tried and true methodology
(think white/blackboard
with markers and/or chalk respectively),

who by the way never got chosen to
clap erasers outside,
fold flag ditto after said
emblematic sanctified cloth unfurled,
nor serve as safety patrol.

Though born within baby boom generation,
I horrendously (nobly) struggled
to acquire cognitive consonance
floundered like a fish out of water
forever barely achieving passable grade

He readily attests de facto failure
if hypothetically enrolled in kindergarten today,
I would get demoted to preschool
(a slight bit of hyperbole),
thus both laments abysmal track record,
whereby attending conventional

schools of hard knocks
(situated within Lower Providence district)
emotionally fracturing psyche
until this very waking moment,
and moost likely mine
remaining tenure on Earth.
Form: Rhyme

Woke Up September 6th 2020

Woke up (September 6th, 2020)...

Got outta bed boot
did not drag comb against head
of  beetle browed foo fighter,
he did not arise
bright eyed (by George), nor bushy tailed
to bucket flush toilet.

After attending her asinine
morning toiletries, the missus
lovingly nudged me awake
quickly urging me to betake
sleepyhead husband pronto to bathroom,

(no matter I got bowled over from behind plus
additionally getting flush while hurriedly
caught up with current movement),
nevertheless despite being anointed
de facto proxy plumber,
crowned emergency attendant

incorporating obligatory undertones
yours truly summoned
one man bucket brigade
to block and tackle
messy task at hand,
cuz jack (ass) of all trades
and master of none
immediately got jibberjobber
self into action.

Accessible bathtub and shower linkedin
as washing facilities,
hence after pouring voluminous hot water
into maw majesty,
viz Ms porcelain goddess,
she gurgled and gushed with delight,

thus avoiding the need
to call maintenance man,
whose availability of sundays
(September 6th, 2020
no exception to rule)
more difficult than
finding needle in haystack.

Once morning dirty deed
done dirt cheap duty completely done,
cuz sudden necessity to evacuate arose,
strong bodily need,
to excrete I could not ignore, but only heed
lest aging garden variety
long haired pencil neck geek,
would figuratively experience

a posteriori his bottom dropping out
subsequently with dog speed
donned in Scottish tartan
and Harris tweed
pink frilly ("I hate boys")
nonetheless monogrammed underwear
adorned with precious venerable bead
hmm... methinks hyperbole
token heterosexual doth exceed.

Ass side resorting to poetic dramatization, eh
generic guy relishes word play touché
so please pardon me this literary antic okay
a non believer regarding conformity
also atheist, which confession he will pray
fly high wherein realm harboring soul of
Antoine Marie Jean-Baptiste Roger,
comte de Saint-Exupéry.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Borders Breadth the Primrose

She personifies the rift between town
 and gown in the city, 
pageant pretty, in pale pinks pellet, 
lace sleeved adorned,
like a primrose she stands prominent 

a gringo cigarette in one hand
 Mexico’s flag in the other,
her country ‘tis of thee
like the contrafactum
of an earlier English anthem
 God Save the King, 
American democracy

she paints her de facto
 her homeland in turmoil,
under an anthropomorphized sun 
lest the moon’s clash in her own sky
Olmec ruins, laid foundation
stone heads, deep-rooted cacti

leaving behind the natural nation
 she’ll advance athwart
contra the cold chicken coop
industrialization’s smokestacks,
the iconic River Rouge Plant
ugliness versus beauty
 a glossy façade?

homesick for her pagan past
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ekphrasis

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