Long Demurred Poems

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


God said to me, a begging bowl

On bowing to the deity,
I hastened to leave the temple.
God said, you seem to be in undue hurry,
I demurred and said, no it’s just my worry
I might ask for something 
That you are hesitant to give,
Which might our long-held rapport spoil.  
To that He just smiled graciously,
But what he said set me thinking,
And what will stay with me for long. 
 
You seem to come with a prayer and plea,
Why, come sometimes just to meet me,
I’ll see that you’ll not have to ask
Oft wearing an alibi of a mask
Nor will you look like a beggar
You bring yourself nigh down to be. 
I was trying truth to distort,
Truth’s often known to us,
But we set it to sail
He only brought it back to port.  
__________________
Musings |06.12.2024| God, spiritual


Premium Member Let There Be Limericks: Noblesse Oblige

The King
The king was quite old, but not senile,
And his problems with sex were not penile.
He could rut with the best,
When put to the test,
And got plenty of rest in between while.

The Queen
The queen wanted Sir Bruce for her lover,
But said knight had his sights on another.
She became unenamored,
When she caught him unarmored,
And in bed with Sir Frederick, her brother.

The Prince
The crown prince of a country in Asia
Loved a commoner named Anastasia.
When his parents demurred,
He said, "Don't be absurd",
And promptly employed euthanasia.

The Princess
The queen's plot was more than merely a jest,
But still Princess Winifred proved she was the best
When that small pea-sized lump
Left a dent in her rump
And allowed her to pass the "sensitivity" test.

The Duke
The Duke of Milan was an arrogant man,
Pugnacious, mendacious, and vain.
He was also a mess
For he loved to cross-dress
In ruffles and bustles and trains.
Form: Limerick

She Was Very Strange, and Beautiful

She Was Very Strange, and Beautiful
by Michael R. Burch

She was very strange, and beautiful,
like a violet mist enshrouding hills
before night falls
when the hoot owl calls
and the cricket trills
and the envapored moon hangs low and full.

She was very strange, in a pleasant way,
as the hummingbird
flies madly still,
so I drank my fill
of her every word.
What she knew of love, she demurred to say.

She was meant to leave, as the wind must blow,
as the sun must set,
as the rain must fall.
Though she gave her all,
I had nothing left . . .
yet I smiled, bereft, in her receding glow.
Form: Verse

Adumbrated Aeration Against Antiforeclosure

(what...me write vernacular English???)

Okay, the gist of anemic
     checking account averred
asked from one
     FaceBook English Literary bird,
I could plainly enumerate
     Sachin be cured
of spellbinding nightmares,
     and not accused

    of acting demurred
the esse cent chill
     dime a dozen premise ensured
prime merrily to discover 
     visa wells Fargo
     sieve err (ala Eratosthenes) forward
solution, whereby means
     to save money

     against being gored
no...no...no...not to be stingy,
     nor selfishly hoard
meager unearned social security
     monthly allotment, aye ignored
to mention as key piece
     of information a dub bill
lit tete ting bout with anxiety,

     obsessive compulsive, not cavil
air lee shaken off and schizoid
     personality disorder like evil
mailer daemons, which
     undermined ability to full fill
quality existence, and even
     prescribed about,
     a half dozen
 
     medications help ill
psyche, though nonetheless mill
yens of precious moments pill
furred with pro
     fuse sweating still
interferes supplementing, 
     stoking, and socking

     away reserve till,
last creased furrow sought out
     here in Schwenksville
     Pennsylvania most likely, where
     one last gulp of oxygen will
finally deliver cremated ashes

     into eternal void
where psychological state
     free from being destroyed
and forever exempt trying
     to be write lee employed!

The Wise Men and the Roman Authorities

“Are we under them or not?” they debated, 
“Do we owe them explanation?”, they demurred, 
Sure of their validation of this baby, they stated, 
To Herod that one day it’d be the king conferred. 

They knew they were doing something wrong,
To the Christ family and Jesus life which awaited,
Making his work harder by allowing scoffing long, 
Specifying him for the Romans to have him fated. 

But they believed in sociology as the mechanism, 
For difficulties to be worked out through, 
And upheld life and society as the atheism, 
Which would confront their classism rue. 

So revealed to Herod the birth of the child divine, 
But kept back his address and how he looked, 
So Herod ordered the death of every baby fine, 
In order to kill that one infant that he’d booked. 

He didn’t like the intelligence of the Zoroastrians, 
The magi respected by all as insightful wise men;
Jews were bypassed easily as emotional pedestrians, 
But the magi comprehended rational thought, ken.  

So the wise men had integrity by respecting authority, 
Showed consistency in their task to specify and select; 
Were the original intellectuals who had subjectivity, 
To both the Israeli people and the government elect.
Form: Quatrain


Message In a Hennessy Bottle

https://www.strategypage.com/htmw/htsf/20160301.aspx

Beneath the rubble of the Ocean
Where Panoply Swirls Decadent
Memories of Jupiter
Before the Flood-Omega
and, retro-spect, the turn of Archimedes

Poseidon in A Rage
Prophecies the Doom of the Titans
The Rush of the Nightengales 
In the Dark of Obsidian Night
In the Cool of the Shrouded Dawn

Whom Fell to Earth
Without Hearkening the Runes of the Sibyl
Or Gilding the Armor of the Hoplite
"They Came Only to Procure the Heat of Day"
Poseidon proclaimed to his Daughter Ocean

Or Complained,
Perhaps
In Damnable Rhyme
With the Flow and Beat of Her Tides
Steadily Plummeting Above

"Yes, And I Love Him For It."
>Venus^< Demurred Coquettishly
"His Day is the Urge That I Hear,
---In the Night."
Quietly, she returned to her Lonely Merman
Form: Acrostic

Adumbrated Aeration Regarding

Adumbrated aeration regarding...

crafting reasonable poetic rhyme 
nothing to sneeze... at chew
asthma lingua franca – 
acts as supercalifragilisticexpialidocious glue
inspiring me to skip to my loo,
and ye to play altruist gist
imagining how and why I still rue
cashing mucho moolah legal tender 
courtesy bitcoin cryptocurrency,
which absolute zero funds recouped,

nevertheless dumbfoundedness ironically 
found steely mettle to get smart 
courtesy posting gofundme page
(titled implacable ill fate 
battered treasured wealth)
on my part already got told to you
dear readers visiting my literary endeavor 
written within vernacular English
spoken amidst human zoo.

Okay, the gist of anemic
checking and savings accounts averred
asked from one
FaceBook English literary 
Jim Hensen creation and
Sesame Street resident Big Bird,
I could plainly enumerate
Sachin (means 'pure' in Sanskrit 
and another name for Hindu God, Shiva.
 
The most famous Sachin   
ranks as recently retired 
Indian cricketer, Sachin Tendulkar).
 
Impossible mission to expunge poison 
regarding stupidity and never be cured
of spellbinding nightmares,
and not accused
of acting demurred
the esse cent chill
dime a dozen premise ensured
prime merrily to discover 
visa wells Fargo

sieve err (ala Eratosthenes) forward
solution, whereby means
to save money
against being gored
no...no...no...not to be stingy,
nor selfishly hoard
meager unearned social security
monthly allotment, aye ignored
to mention as key piece

of information a dub bill
lit tete ting bout with anxiety,
obsessive compulsive, not cavil
air lee shaken off and schizoid
personality disorder like evil
mailer daemons, which
undermined ability to full fill
quality existence, and even
prescribed about,

a half dozen plus three
medications help ill
psyche, though nonetheless mill
yens of precious moments pill
furred with profuse sweating still
interferes supplementing, 
stoking, and socking
away reserve till,

last creased furrow sought out
here in Schwenksville
Pennsylvania most likely, where
one last gulp of oxygen will
finally deliver cremated ashes
into eternal void
where psychological state
free from being destroyed
and forever exempt trying
to be write lee employed.
Form: Rhyme

The Wise Men and the Roman Authorities

“Are we under them or not?” they debated, 
“Do we owe them explanation?”, they demurred, 
Sure of their validation of this baby, they stated, 
To Herod that one day it’d be the king conferred. 

They knew they were doing something wrong,
To the Christ family and Jesus life which awaited,
Making his work harder by allowing scoffing long, 
Specifying him for the Romans to have him fated. 

But they believed in sociology as the mechanism, 
For difficulties to be worked out through, 
And upheld life and society as the atheism, 
Which would confront their classism rue. 

So revealed to Herod the birth of the child divine, 
But kept back his address and how he looked, 
So Herod ordered the death of every baby fine, 
In order to kill that one infant that he’d booked. 

He didn’t like the intelligence of the Zoroastrians, 
The magi respected by all as insightful wise men;
Jews were bypassed easily as emotional pedestrians, 
But the magi comprehended rational thought, ken.  

So the wise men had integrity by respecting authority, 
Showed consistency in their task to specify and select; 
Were the original intellectuals who had subjectivity, 
To both the Israeli people and the government elect.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Human Mite Sight

How long is a short time, a hairs breadth above never 
Seen within one eye blink, the lash will move forever 
Perception throws curveball's, upon prismatic minds
Yet outside double slits, life-forms live completely blind 

And voracious appetites, strip eyelashes of girth 
Feeding on sebaceous oil, dines parasitic birth 
Nibbling away, watching reality slip from sight
Getting up close and personal, with demodex mites 

Making much from little, aiming to create new worlds 
Eyelashes warp under pressure, turn inward and curl 
Scratching the surface, observation now semi-blurred 
Eyeballs driving us crazy, itch cannot be demurred 

Lice-like creatures, slither up and down paying no tax 
Using eyelids as havens, in remorseless attacks 
Recombobulating dead skin, not the stuff of dreams 
We rip earths orb to shreds daily, in monster machines

By 
David Kavanagh 
16x13
Form: Quatrain

Allergic Reaction

When first invited
to The Land of Milk and Honey
where stars at night shone bright
and days there were always sunny
he demurred to go
Abraham was of a mind to politely decline
as wouldn't you know
he was lactose intolerant
and diabetic too so
the alleged Promised Land
would only guarantee
even more misery
but when he repented and relented
as his story unravels
more than 2,200 miles
by ox-cart he then travels
and tho' it's unsure if he found a cure
or the fire of his desire
to fulfill the dream which kept him alive
lo he lived to be an old soul of
one hundred and seventy five
Form: Rhyme

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