Long Espousing Poems
Long Espousing Poems. Below are the most popular long Espousing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Espousing poems by poem length and keyword.
If Trump wins...rest in peace - Mother of Freedom
Post mortem courtesy
Doctor Demento yielded
Lady Liberty lies slain...
videre licet knocked senseless
from brutal blows upon her crown
simultaneously shouldering existential crisis
triggered nervous breakdown
though rendered mute
sound of silence doth expound.
Forsooth impeachment hearings
rendered him immune
to chastisement, insurrection
he did foment, blithely
skirting impairment appertain
blood on hands of
self important president,
though alcohol he doth abstain,
nonetheless permanent drunken stupor
doth wax and wain
finger of guilt
damaging democracy points
to him as chief villain
groomed since... time immemorial
atavistic primate brain
bathed (courtesy Frederick Christ Trump)
buzzfeeding chosen favored heir
go for broke – as a red badge of courage
bankrupt countless times
and pulled out all stops,
viz unbridled thundering,
espousing philosophy gain
amass wealth, unscrupulous
if necessary where,
might equals right cold play'n
deadly serious game (Life) train
sight squarely and/or roundly
scattered lovely bones
amidst tombstones testimony
incidental secondary fallout main
part and parcel, where legerdemain,
plus art of the deal linkedin
with immeasurable gloating
ego necessary to gain
con fetter writ oligarchy plain
successfully cheating, hocking,
milking, quaffing, and trending,
yielding dynastic rule
trumpeting eternal and carnal
stormy Daniels reign
vaping with wealthy
zealotry (think vain)
at electorate expense
tampering koolaid acid test
courtesy illegals sown GMO grain
colluding when/where possible,
never losing sight regarding
selfish mission to attain
obligatory ideal tyranny
rampantly running roughshod,
no need to explain
writing sleight underhanded profane
antithetical, critical, heretical quatrain
badgering, belittling, besmirching,
bilking, boasting, bragging with disdain
flagrantly flaunting, fleecing,
regarding purported B.S. degree
in economics he did attain
matriculating Wharton School of law,
hmm... methinks he paid
hireling from Ukraine
forever flirting, flouting, and flunking
even basic geography questions
case in point being
where is Drury Lane
additionally, he ain't
no literati familiar
storied quasi fiction Citizen Kane.
A lifetime of waiting, stacks of National
Geographic half as tall as me, piled on
every step. A girl with nothing to do but dream.
The yellow-black jackets buzzed, I flowered
as I turned the pages. The relics of Tutankhamun
fascinated: gold, turquoise, lapis and the slaves
in mud-brick houses they live in still.
I longed to be the Pharaoh’s daughter;
I kohled my eyes.
Egypt called to me. Pyramids, deserts baking,
heat mirages, and oases of palms with still blue water.
The twenty-first century’s reality is far different.
Cairo teems with discontent, Mubarak’s campaign
posters hung from each lamppost.
Two weeks before the Arab Spring, I was there.
The only safety found behind the gun-guarded,
razor-wired gates of the upper class, and even then—
A country espousing religious freedom was killing
Coptic Christians in the streets, and bombing churches.
Cairo’s one poster child synagogue stood empty,
except for tourists—dark, decorative, haunting,
full of tales of Christ’s sojourn in Egypt?
The pyramids rose hen-pecked by pollution
through a surreal orange sky. Masked women
walk the male dominated streets. Women
live in fear in or out of the hijab.
The majesty of yesteryear, the pyramid of Giza
squats like a discard in the ashtray of desert.
Vendors and tourist litter the site.
Baksheesh is the only God in Egypt,
baksheesh and the horded water of the Nile.
First Published in here & there magazine
in the UK
Forsooth impeachment hearings appertain
blood on hands of
self important president,
though alcohol he doth abstain,
nonetheless permanent drunken stupor
doth wax and wain
finger of guilt
damaging democracy points
to him as chief villain
groomed since... time immemorial
atavistic primate brain
bathed (courtesy Frederick Christ Trump)
buzzfeeding chosen favored heir
go for broke - bankrupt countless times
and pulled out all stops,
viz unbridled espousing philosophy gain
amass wealth, unscrupulous
if necessary where,
might equals right play'n
deadly serious game (Life) train
sight squarely and/or roundly
scattered lovely bones
amidst tombstones testimony
incidental secondary fallout main
part and parcel, where legerdemain,
plus art of the deal linkedin
with immeasurable gloating
ego necessary to gain
con fetter writ oligarchy plain
successfully cheating, hocking,
milking, quaffing, and trending,
yielding dynastic rule
trumpeting eternal stormy reign
vaping with wealthy
zealotry (think vain)
at electorate expense
tampering koolaid acid test
courtesy illegals sown GMO grain
colluding when/where possible,
never losing sight regarding
selfish mission to attain
obligatory ideal tyranny
rampantly running roughshod,
no need to explain
writing sleight underhanded profane
antithetical, critical, heretical quatrain
badgering, belittling, besmirching,
bilking, boasting, bragging with disdain
flagrantly flaunting, fleecing,
regarding purported B.S. degree
in economics he did attain
matriculating Wharton School of law,
hmm... methinks he paid
hirling from Ukraine
forever flirting, flouting, and flunking
even basic geography questions
case in point being where is Drury Lane
additionally, he ain't no literati familiar
storied quasi fiction Citizen Kane.
II.
Do you know of lovely Janice,
freshman in university,
Dad sent her to expand her mind,
to reason and think critically,
hoping that it would prepare her
for a world that often is harsh,
instead she came back spouting stuff,
that was well-and-truly bizarre.
First, she had chopped off all her braids,
“It’s appropriation,” she said,
then went into some bullsh-t spiel
on how ‘only blacks’ can wear dreads,
ignoring that Celts wore dreadlocks
before knowing Africa was there,
and that most cultures in the world
had figured out how to braid hair!
And a whole bunch of other stuff
that she tried to pass as deep thought,
she hated ‘all men,’ and the country,
and endlessly railed against God.
This wasn’t something that she had
organically stumbled upon,
the more she spoke, the more he knew
the origin of all this wrong,
it all came from the professors,
the ones ensconced in liberal arts,
espousing luxury beliefs,
to young souls still ruled by the heart.
Taking tired socialism,
dressing it up as some crusade
to make youth feel like they’re ‘heroes,’
fighting ‘injustice’ in their age,
getting degrees in bad ideas,
that are of no use in real life,
gender theory, post modernism,
and other academic tripe,
so when those young minds graduate
with two hundred thousand in debt,
a barista serving coffee
is the best job that they can get.
And where are all the professors
when the ex-students see the flaws?
Safe up in ivory towers,
protect by the tenure laws.
They never have to pay the price
for bad ideas they inculcate,
luxury thoughts they can only hold
due to the wealth they claim to hate,
pay no price for lives they destroy
with leftist ideology,
trusted them to lead young adults,
but they’ve led them to tragedy,
learning nothing on how to think,
just some sleaze-ball professor’s will,
these academics betrayed us,
we really should treat them like filth.
Smalltown, USA, was shattered with fateful news this morning.
Sadly, one of their own is gone - the town as one is mourning.
The town had planned a parade to honor their soldier brave.
Alas, the doleful sound of "Taps" now echoed o'er his grave.
He was an impish little fellow and teased the neighbor's cat,
And pulled the girl's braids, but he was an ace with ball and bat!
Folks relied on him to deliver the Gazette each and every day,
To enjoy with that first cup of coffee, with never any delay!
When not upon the friendly field of strife as an athletic star,
He could be found 'neath the elm, tinkering with his car.
With his folks he faithfully attended Church and Sunday School,
And later taught his own class, espousing the Golden Rule.
In the classroom on any subject he always did excel.
A handsome lad, he touched the heart of many an admiring belle!
He refused scholarships to college with the manly observation:
"To serve my country, I feel, is my solemn obligation!"
As the bagpipes played that venerable old air, "Amazing Grace",
Mother received the folded flag and held it in reverent embrace.
Tho' his brave parents were filled with untold grief and pain,
They know their son gave his all for our liberties to sustain!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Who wants to know when the War of 1812 was fought?
All hands are up; every kindergartener wants to know.
Who wants to know who invented robotics?
Two kindergarteners’ hands are up.
The others are on their bouncy ball chairs,
Not listening.
“Would you like to hear a story?”
The vote of hands is about half and half,
so I read to one half, and my counterpart plays an
Alphabet game with the others.
Kindergarten makes up their mind, and
There is no budging it, no changing it at all.
“My mommy says that all men are stupid.”
Really! How delightful to be espousing this so early.
“My grandmommy says that all white people are mean.”
Being white myself, I could feel insulted, but I don’t.
“What would I have to do to change your mind about that?”
“I don’t know,” the little five-year-old girl admitted.
“What’s a white people?”
It’s going to be fun now, I doubt I’ll have to change her
mind, just give her the sorted truth that her favorite
teacher is now her enemy.” Too late, Grand-mommy, I think. Too late.
Written May 2, 2018
Young lovers living in death's shadow
Autonomous hearts bound by love's oath
Freely skirting the binding traditions that cluttered their way
Secretly espousing an innocuous, private romance that openly challenged convention
Amorous compatriots plotting a treasonous tryst
Initiating a temporal rapprochement that yielded a spiritual legacy
Twining branches of two long-severed limbs
Brokers extending a healing love that widened a poisonous rift
Sweet incense of sacrificed lambs rising from the rancid pyre of conformity
Dispossessed of title and home, but vested with a nobler destiny
Accepting their perilous fate with a blithe resignation
Bearing a reproach not of their own making
Short-lived nightmare exchanged for an everlasting vigil
Distilling their fleeting time together into love's eternal quotient
Attaining immortality in the mutable literary discourse
We as British people are known around
the world for our own individual traits
Such as we are supposed to be and
thought of as polite
Love ever so saying and apologizing
for anything and everything even if it
isn't actually in fact out fault
People say we even love and don't
mind queuing
Our self deprecating sarcastic sense
of humor
The Crown a Royal wedding like when
Harry met Megan
But there are also a few other traits that
can be added to the list which aren't
that great , such as
How we love espousing our views and
values upon the world at large with such
overbearing righteousness and sincerity
Well that is all well and good if in fact
theoretically it actually worked in practice
and we had managed to solve our own
problems here closer at home first
No 1 has quite ever explained why we
can't don't or are unable to rather try fixing
our own 1st before we go in search of others
And I promise then I will start worrying about
the plight of the snow leopards of Afghanistan
homeless cat's 3rd world debt and adopting
a child or building a school in god knows where
When I have any spare change left after
tripping over and giving to the homeless
on my doorstep or soon to be able to afford
and provide either electricity or food for
my own family
Who made us the arbiter of the world
and best placed to right and solve
all of the world's problems and wrongs
Our day's of Empire are long gone we
are no longer technically a superpower
Maybe it's time to start concentrating on
matter's here closer to home
And try instilling and restoring a bit
or some sense of pride back in all
of our own
Because everyone would benefit from
that and wouldn't only be good but
Great for all of us who reside here in Britain
How unappealing... the missus went bananas
courtesy hurling mandarin oranges.
Yes quite juvenile
unladylike childlike behaviour,
mine wife oft times doth display,
I do not deplore
yours truly reckons
tis futile effort causing furore
aye attest bull
in china shop incorrigible hardcore
exhibited by spouse
out of bounds antics bon jour
earlier within marriage
shenanigans twas the stuff
back in the day
sparking altercations, haint no lore
regarding wedded bliss
muddle aged doozy storied
married couple expressing
mutual love nevermore
did deux disparate
birds of a feather flock together
espousing total mortal kombat
(with looming fruity weapon
of mass destruction
living below poverty dirt poor
surviving (barely) hand to mouth
unable to afford
top of line high grade
clean atomic bombs rapport
re: ruining our reputation
as hoity toity main liners
portraying child's play
conflicts in East/West Timor
almost annihilating each other
i.e. zee Harris family
plus well nigh turning
planet Earth into vapour.
Sober realization of brinksmanship
brought now auld
geezers (defanged & harmless)
flinging foodstuffs cold
and/or frozen leftovers
(carbon dated), petrified extolled
as delicacy among Neanderthals,
who would value and
cherish fruit lobbed as
love's labour's lost more precious
(as a physical expression of affection)
more so than fine spun gold
thee rented man cave serves
atavistic trait hard rock cafe
functions as pleasant reminder,
where one percent genetic
stock originated (think noggin
rock hard iron maiden mold).
Backtrack to years spanning 2000-2010
wen furious red hot poker rage
twas unmanageable when living
under duress within Penn Valley
even tranquilizers could not assuage
harkening back when yours truly
under threat courtesy battle ax
and her henchwomen,
which matriarch took immediate dislike,
née rabid (foaming
at the mouth loathing)
towards yours truly
them days outright state
of undeclared warfare
found fury within me
exceeding the wrath of Kong!
Thank dog, I mellowed since then
gratuity prescription medication.
I sidestep the issue, not wanting to speak of it
With one who does not remember
Going through it innumerable times.
An ending? No. A beginning….
Perpetually and forever.
The cyclical dance of death.
She wants to speak of tombs and stones.
I laugh at her ignorance.
Remembering many reincarnations.
The death dance
So optimistic and hopeful.
The ultimate fairness.
New beginnings, with parents and
Dreams starting up in a fresh new way.
I sidestep her absoluteness,
realizing she does not remember.
Thus she cannot understand, and I
cannot abide the gloom and finality
she insists upon espousing.
Written 3-1-2019
Contest: The Death Dance Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke