Long Doggerel Poems
Long Doggerel Poems. Below are the most popular long Doggerel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Doggerel poems by poem length and keyword.
no shortage of familiar metier real
(material) aye attest
welling up within thy breast
merely a predicament how to winnow
junk bonded barnacled
accretion encrusted
amidst gems buried
within treasure chest,
yet vigilant to sift,
viz figurative fine tooth comb
uprooting excrescence laired plethora
incognito, sans faux
couture doggerel habiliment dressed
necessitating painstaking
poetic rock climbing
ala scaling Mount Everest
imbedding, hooking, grappling
fingered duple crampons
aye con fessed
to myself, the futility
to wrest Shakespearean nuggets,
which analogy hyperbole you guessed
nor does modesty allow me feeble effort
(trite) on par with August bard,
who would rank him,
the highest allotted value
upon assigned (absolute)
value of playing card,
hence tis the gold standard thee
verse a tile scribe based
at Stratford on Avon
this here wordsmith wields
his own literary might always on guard
to stave reprehensible tar tarred plaque
like encrustation glued hard
akin to a geode methodical
mother lode extraction jarred
by the slightest distraction,
thus with bold
ness sigh hermetically
seal off every cerebral fold
vectors against superfluous mind chatter
can upend fragile tenuous hold
when merest wisp of nearly
elusive mental thread escapes,
i feign scold
ding this paperback
bestseller wannabe with told
cha so Harris, thus
keep dreaming envisioning
an green acred Edenic demesne
sprawling across wide webbed wold.
On coining an acronym for the neologism 'occult microaggresion'
'OM' is right,
But might get the Buddhists backs up....
OMA, WTAF? What about OMA?
Its German for granny, but I've no objection to teutonic geriatrics,
Unless they take hat tricks;
They can be surprisingly elastic -
Vorsprung durch plastic!
What's that you say, too bombastic?
I'll curtail the doggerel,
With a couple of matchsticks,
That used to work on the beatniks,
Although, Ginsberg could be slippery
When incensed by casual vivipiary,
'I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by....
Sticklebricks' (sic).
It's such a minefield, this identity real politik;
As Trotsky said to Stalin:
'Josef Besarionis Jughashvili,
the proletariat can be real pricks',
And, as the Stranglers pointed out,
One of them finished him off with an ice pick!
But, as Galileo observed,
Maybe that's just the fate in store for bigoted denizens
Of this rotund and heliocentric
Planet; 'eppur si muove' he muttered,
And, although a trifle bucolic,
It seems a fitting epitaph for the Pisan melanancholic.
I apologise for this diatribe didactic,
The current pandemic has rendered me
in urgent need of a linguistic immunoelectrophoretic
otherwise wordily titled: pooped out
after pouring bucketfuls of water into
place of ablutions
all the while skipping to my loo
umpteen times courtesy bathtub faucet
turned toward hot temperature
so toilet would finally,
magnificently, and royally flush.
As ofttimes occurred in the past
anonymous reader's time
I once again promise to waste
concerning asinine verbiage
without this bard **** feeling shamefaced
broadcasting his fealty
to posterior predilections must appear
(as rearing to volley rebuttal
against fans of mine) yours truly
ofttimes discusses that byproduct,
which issues out buttucks) narrow-based
if not downright banal, gross, offal... in haste
to craft something more philosophical
how craven potty talk
whereby theme doth self debase.
I excreted a bowel movement
earlier today June 5th, 2022
substantial enough to sink battleship
(maybe ye experienced tsunami after effects)
laboriously dumping bucketfuls of hot water
insync with applying plunger found me a drip
with perspiration, and would have possibly found
site manager and/or maintenance man to flip
(a rare sight to behold
worth inconvenience of clogged toilet bowl),
which yours truly felt strain in back muscles
as he poured bucketfuls of water from his hip
accidentally splashing water
on bathroom floor
yes your honor
(necessitating poop deck to evacuate)
if thee choose to sit in judgeship
but please be mindful
to restrain giving me any lip
cuz atypical dilemma I figuratively did nip
in the bud, yet foresee similar outcome
sure as this...
once upon a sage, rosemary and parsnip
herbaceous generic fellow sought readership
ideally landing webbed wide world trip
heralded all along as a V.I.P.
where fanfare for this common man
would find his doggerel
induced listeners to yip.
No matter how or what you write:
A myth, a melodrama or a mystery,
About your life or a dreadful night
In a poem, a song or a short story;
Write in a manner to evoke pathos,
And in matter to mirror a tragedy,
Establish a sincere sense of ethos
Whether you write a satire or a comedy.
Either try to provoke a hearty laughter
Or to elicit a feeling of warm sorrow,
Steer them stealthily to a myth buster
Or promise them a better tomorrow.
Write an epic, an elegy or a pastoral
With a sublime, visionary imagination,
A ballad, an ode or even a doggerel
of a dramatic event or a silly situation.
Perceive the pulse and tone of the people,
The image, the rhythm and the sound,
The habit, custom, creed and the foible,
Develop the theme with metaphors abound.
The essence of life belongs to poetry,
It is an ever enriching avocation,
Where purity of love overcomes bigotry,
Where reality juxtaposes with imagination!
Detailing delicate defecation debacle
Otherwise wordily titled: pooped out
after pouring bucketfuls of water into
place of ablutions
all the while skipping to my loo
umpteen times courtesy bathtub faucet
turned toward hot temperature
so toilet would finally,
magnificently, and royally flush.
As ofttimes occurred in the past
anonymous reader's time
I once again promise to waste
concerning asinine verbiage
without this bard **** feeling shamefaced
broadcasting his fealty
to posterior predilections must appear
(as rearing to volley rebuttal
against fans of mine) yours truly
ofttimes discusses that byproduct,
which issues out buttucks) narrow-based
if not downright banal, gross, offal... in haste
to craft something more philosophical
how craven potty talk
whereby theme doth self debase.
I excreted a bowel movement
moments ago today April 11th, 2024
at approximately two thirty post meridian
substantial enough to sink battleship
(maybe ye experienced tsunami after effects)
laboriously dumping bucketfuls of hot water
insync with applying plunger found me a drip
with perspiration, and would have possibly found
site manager and/or maintenance man to flip
(a rare sight to behold
worth inconvenience of clogged toilet bowl),
which yours truly felt strain in back muscles
as he poured bucketfuls of water from his hip
accidentally splashing water
on bathroom floor
yes your honor
(necessitating poop deck to evacuate)
if thee choose to sit in judgeship
but please be mindful
to restrain giving me any lip
cuz atypical dilemma I figuratively did nip
in the bud, yet foresee similar outcome
sure as this...
once upon a sage, rosemary and parsnip
herbaceous generic fellow sought readership
ideally landing webbed wide world trip
heralded all along as a V.I.P.,
where fanfare for this common man
enjoying Appalachian Spring,
would find his doggerel
induced listeners to yip.
Delectable daze
aligned aesthetic
shimmered swoon
of
bespoke ripples
svelte meander
induced isthmus
vapour vaulting
veracity stoic
conscious cognizant
bard assimilating
aureate archways
seismic
rendered relish
goading effervescent
literary lullaby
interwoven
opportune foramen
tinctured chasm
or otherworld
fractured frisson
bejewelled
template tempter
sonic madrigal
enticing
creative lunge
toward tiered
vanilla visuals
for
ethereal lyric
deft minstrel
of
fermented finesse.
lithe moulder
authorised pen
swimming
enigmatic estuaries
whilst
dance retinue
sunshine swathes
pivotal pirouette
spawning
erudite enjambment
satin weave
gossamer lens
whose
amaranthine fixed
focus eschews
bland doggerel
instead
chatoyant cynosure
replenished quill
lacquers
indigo imbued
bunting’s warble
inducing
hypnotic portrait
surreal verse
delirious
weave web
unravelled
dream denouement
of
epic entablatures
I admit it. I’m a Lexophile. I’m likely on some list!
If there’s a play on words somewhere, I really can’t resist.
A twist of phrase, a brutal pun, or the turn of a sonnet fine,
Will fill my soul with childlike bliss, be it deft or unrefined.
Consonance, or assonance, or dissonance that splatters,
A doggerel mess or the good bard’s best, it really doesn’t matter.
Homonyms and antonyms and synonyms galore,
Give the plot a wicked curve and I’ll come back for more.
It is all about the words my friends and how you make them tumble.
Make them smooth and honey sweet or ghastly in a jumble.
I’ll take them scrambled, fried or raw, whatever you may mete,
Because baby, I’m a Lexophile; a boiled egg’s hard to beat!
H-E-L-P!!! N-e-e-d s-o-m-e b-o-d-y!!!...
Spouse booby trapped husband!!!
Homicide courtesy munch
house zen by proxy
immediately suspected hunch
police, K9 corps, and ambulance
nearly lost their lunch crossing over divide
yellow crime tape
cordoned off homicide
booted feet did poetically crunch
while leashes untangled,
viz braided bunch.
Law enforcement officers i.e. they
Perkiomen Township precinct tidy
as... executive attache
case headed by narcotics
mod squad trooper Amelie
Beth knew address of scrivener brother
immediately quaffed mouthful Schuylkill
downing requisite with "FAKE" sedative cray
zee that seems giving
judicious punch to allay
time and again marital altercations daresay
put Schwenksville neighborhood
under immediate lockdown
Bay of Pigs in comparison childsplay
summoned rookies re:
instant karma coldplay
witnessed unusual display
officers, paramedics, and trained
German shepherds on faux pas did pray
(canines formerly under religious sway
nsync with neutered saint Matthew Scott
sacred church fathers and mothers
panglossian benevolence ne'er betray
loved spouting doggerel pay
Canis lupus familiaris obeissance
oh... I got scent tum mental anyway
kit and caboodle - women in blue,
plus aforementioned cod ray
regarding medical technicians
braced themselves steely, fiery, burly,...
former career recruits, thus okay
toughened courtesy green beret
fearless motley crew did sashay
gingerly, nimbly, softly... treading listening
faintly hearing sauntered without delay,
whence plaintive bent down on haunches
analogous to plie (plea yea)
including dogs ready to spring,
where overly curious inquisitive nee
bores asked to take selfie oy vey
afterwards quickly made bee line
discerning most strategic way
to enter apartment and rescue
a scene no stranger Giacomo Casanova,
to Rabelais, or Marquis de Sade
chaos theory put thru paces
mind boggling utter disarray
courtesy the missus
floor to ceiling clutter, perhaps soiree
gone awry with personal paraphernalia
strewn helter skelter hodge podge
bajillion potential accidents away
one misstep to temper and disable
garden variety trumpeting popinjay.
Pleasantly radiant, tranquil weather
blue skies & gently benevolent wind
a shimmering gift from Mother Nature
(a smoldering summer lurking in the distance)
Compulsively tracking an unquantifiable self:
steps, exercise minutes, calories, symptoms, etc.
stoical statistics dutifully logged into tired devices
(a futile endeavor to control life)
Cacophonous news oozing from the Malverse
menacing memes ricochet around the planet
updates of a horrid war threatening to devour the world
(a looming nuclear apocalypse)
Occupying space in old unedifying edifices gathering dark energy
running out the accelerating clock as civilization nears its breaking point
desperately seeking diversion while doling out doggerel
(a quest to imbue a desolate existence with meaning)
How long before it all falls apart?
Whatever may come of whatever may,
The breeze comes blowing in it own way,
Swirling round the sandy cove,
Gulls swirling twirling above shallow shoals.
My breezy breath is pulled from me
To feed the wind, to lift the leaves,
To pass once more my shell like ears,
Assault the eyes, bring forth my tears.
Bright sun, brash birds, the forever roar
Of weathering wind on surf worn shore,
Words here are swirled away
So there’s naught left at end of day
But visions that my eyes have seen,
A low slung flower kissed by a bee,
Orb of gold held in constant blue,
Sandy shore washed, forever renewed.
When I trudge with weary legs
Across the dunes and toward my bed
With every step I take away
I gain a word that I can say
To paint a picture with vowels and verbs
To tell a tale in the local pub
Of when I stood in sandy surf
And lost my self then found my worth.