Long Et Poems
Long Et Poems. Below are the most popular long Et by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Et poems by poem length and keyword.
Though (supposedly) only
the good die young, urn holding
cremated ashes a mere cup
full, every last man standing falls,
cuz nobody else
escapes un pup
yule lore blitzkrieg,
or aging gracefully,
the unavoidable eventual fate,
(mortal fateful demise),
sans the remaining unsung
anonymous peoples meet up
with the grim reaper,
who will ineluctably disrupt
the carryings on
with each and every individual
(non plus ultra all other
life forms as well)
gradually or with abrupt,
and unannounced debut
scythe lent lee appearing
to whisk away the
honest and/or corrupt
whether taking their
first meal of the day,
and/or last sup
per, perhaps sitting quietly,
when body electric
amp pare rent lee
receives ohm
my word fatal invite,
whereat permanent shocking
quiescence doth, sans
stealth maneuver erupt
tragically, indiscriminately,
and blithely
mowing down innocent civilians,
and/or training fate squarely
upon heads of soldiers
life during wartime,
where opposing armies regale
while marching men go hup...
to three fore (akin
to a story field day),
winning booby prize, viz
counting on qua,
asper winning lottery
and/or Stanley Cup
major blood bath rendered
significant counting coup
whereat each opposing fighting
force figuratively doth slew
the other, analogously dost defeat
making mince meat
re: as uniformed brigades in heat
of wanton killing
fields sliced minced,
chopped nada so vary neat,
via stealth unable dupe, nor cheat
death be not proud,
et cetera, nonetheless,
grimly forced to greet
a bonanza coup won,
only tubby beat
tin to pulp by adept
skull and excellent fleet
of foot (top
notch crafted) sweet
(albeit) temporary victory
tasting said treat
assailing, bruiting , and/or
weathering stance versus
alternating between defensive
and/or offensive
use of cross bones,
in a hail of bullets
instantaneously didst greet
fast and furious i.e. suffering
deadly raking har row
ring slaughter, an entire
phalanx gone, where
(metaphorical terrible swift sword)
no uniformed fighter
can never call retreat.
Unaffordable, yet valiant speeding,
tailgating, and zooming Pep Boys, I cannot dodge.
Yours truly grief stricken
(sob... sob... sob)...
wheely hard to bear
this anticipatory anxiety
riddled joker impossible
mission thwarting despair
death knell tolled (told),
woebegone news, I did fear
hears stunned me into silence,
the unwelcome prognosis,
I needed to hear
no joke, but good humor
totally wrecked vehicle forces
yours truly to become...,
no not a lion tamer
but, yes a panhandling junketeer
begging, copping, dilly dallying... ha
to accept unpleasant
unexpected dire straits
gravely digging within lithosphere
bidding... fare thee well
treasured automobile faithful and near
synonymous with ideal paramour, yet now
must confront stark reality,
lack ample disposable income available
no financial resources to persevere,
and worse case scenario me
and the missus will need to don
faux Santa Claus outfit,
and roundup available reindeer
for ourselves (yea... yea... yea...,
I realize how spare
and tired, pessimistic,
forlorn success such short notice
unless if... nah no fat or slim chance...
apocalypse ushers abominable thermonuclear
war, (I doubt Trump would
pull publicity stunt
to be re elected - ha) whereby
Beatle browed, foo fighting
foreigners, survivors impressed, feted,
compensated... for service
unless they willingly volunteer.
Combination future pluperfect
birthday presents and Noel hi
Christmas gifts well nigh,
noah ark cake "FAKE" attempt,
to hoodwink, engine ear,
trunk hate, et cetera
drum, harp, trumpet... belie
including objective to shanghai,
nor fall out of good amazing graces
toward (me) garden variety generic guy
providing steadfast generous
figurative air supply to fortify,
revving me shaky talent,
ye may oft times decry
as unintelligible gobbledygook
brainstorming ideas to try
single handedly ambidextrously
poetically kindle indeed codify
to elucidate how transportation
car reared and gone awry
moderate expenses as original parts wear out,
(i.e. battery, fender, brakes,
hood latch, shock absorber, tires...
albeit almost all simultaneously), hence I sigh
aware expounding circumstance that doth defy
immediate resolution incumbent to pacify
troubleshoot immediate impasse
squarely render quintessence
problem solving the overriding
challenge, I vilify.
(***warning ungapatchka language ahead***)
Flush with rage the spouse will become allied
if reference made how she buzzfeeds disorder
altercation especially likely if divorce blurted
making me wish to experience (immediately)
bartered bride, when mine pointed finger doth
nonverbally chide markedly appalling untidy
predilection she blithely exhibits woeful scant
interest to maintain can-do spirit affecting plea
zing aesthetic humble abode ofttimes slacking
off cleaning trail of abomination, which talent
includes unwittingly cultivating qua primordial
soup possibly duplicating conditions when life
originated (bajillion years ago) on planet Earth
witnessed courtesy think gummy, groovy, gooey,
gloppy, (nippy, nap, noopy) protoplasmic slimy
oozing blob (starring Steve McQueen) amoeba
like swallowing small towns with names such as
Chester Springs, Downingtown, Phoenixville,
& Royersford hungering, hinting, and hankering
to hasten home hearing Harris harridan hooligan
hoopla conniption purportedly linked into order
issued courtesy board of health for hen pecking
wife to hustle & make house beautiful for Biden
(accompanied with hit parade) announcing (yea)
at long last Republican administration overhaul
which fête yours truly slated to host determined
(weeks ago), thus necessitating legally wedded
counterpart to apply elbow grease in tandem to
render spic & span where unsightly food scraps,
soiled clothes, scattered papers, et cetera strewn
helter skelter, the disarray the culmination of 4+
years occupying these digs in Schwenksville, Pa.
Upon being told "get the place in ship shape order"
she went ballistic like bupkis fired out me gluteus
maximus, (whereat I couldn't help but think ICBM)
yea, an incongruous thought as she rattled vitriolic,
colorful expletives coarse language enough would
make sailor blush shutting his yapper uttering before
he even uttered "shiver me timbers," hence clatter
and din created cacophonous noise as my fair lady
affected one woman siege warfare as pots and pans
flew pell mell thru air while I took refuge in fallout
shelter unused since total mortal kombat destroyed
major swath of webbed wide world, global debacle
our dear leader triggered (when in pensive mood) he
lobbed weapons of mass destruction after being axed
to "go back home" meaning his mother planet Uranus.
Preface:
Earlier today May 28th, 2021,
the 12-member jury unanimously
found Cristhian Bahena Rivera guilty
of first-degree murder in brutal stabbing death
sentenced to life in prison
without the possibility of parole
of Mollie Tibbetts remembered as then friendly
20-year-old who was studying
to become a child psychologist.
IOWA CITY, Iowa
(killingly, jarringly inexplicable,
horribly, gruesomely, and forlornly),
the body found July 18, 2018,
an exhumed decayed corpse
belonging to young
vibrant coed twenty year old
college student Mollie Tibbetts.
Impossible mission to deduce
senseless killing of innocent babe
wild speculation perchance
spurned, snubbed,or scorned
love seriously gone wrong,
she who disappeared
from her small hometown
in central Iowa sad swan song
now plays, where every
last drop of sorrow rung,
now weeping family, friends,
relatives, et cetera subjected wrack
with lifelong emotional pain,
which searing inescapable
grief twill unrelentingly track
ferociously, fiercely, and figuratively,
doth disallow recourse
to duck away
from heart wrenching quack
king unbearably, terribly, and scathingly
will fully bill leave ably
beak homing a folly,
mockery, and travesty,
sans time heals
all wounds (truly "FAKE"),
nonetheless psyche riving tragic
(irrevocable loss) doth pack.
Grievous punch greater then any
all star olympic pugilist
straight to the ab
domain of opponent, where
rumor mongers mill and blab
how this, that, or
another potential suspect,...
whence tissues dab
corners of crying eyes,
an endless stream
of tears merge with gab
bullying utter disbelief.
Family/friends question
the supposed almighty
at devastating loss
to do nothing but bawl (at Baal)
into the fox sized rabbit hole
trying with futility
to block (even crawl
ling into every
rabbit hole) no bastion
against implacable
maddening crowded
house alive with murderous frenzy,
and a dialect (non
tickling) gentle Iowan drawl.
Third anniversary regarding
asper the impossibly steep toll
the purposelessness killing,
aforementioned deceased
affected sodden wet soul
cannot process any (defying) logic,
a foregone lovely gal (same age
as my youngest daughter),
whose missed presence,
(albeit said slain lass
Mollie Tibbetts – permanent absence),
now created an expansive
infinite black sink hole.
Inexplicable blessing luckily
avoiding potentially grim fate
finds yours truly coming to grips,
how afterlife did not accommodate
the missus, and/or myself unwittingly
loved ones would never acclimate
reality of our permanent absence,
thus existence all the more I appreciate
and attempt poetically articulate.
Herewith the scenario that defies
conventional atheistic wisdom
finding me unable to square
involving 2009 Hyundai Sonata automobile
driven by spouse or her scribe, who dare
not allude to guardian angel,
yet conundrum inexplicable, when
touted as luck, regarding the rear
wheel bearing (passenger side of car)
that went kaput, blessedly ignorance
attributed absented scare,
yet in retrospect taking stock
i.e. how existence imperilled,
now more grateful than ever
toward life, liberty and
pursuit of happiness,
this in essence potential whipped miracle
of sorts presenting possibility
cosmic creative force continually near.
CJ'S TIRE & AUTOMOTIVE,
(1405 South Township Line Road,
Royersford, Pennsylvania 19468)
intuition doth agree
expert knowledgeable SERVICE
familiar personnel employee
since patronizing said facility
(actually franchise sites
scattered across United States), we
regularly return taking car repeatedly
to team of mainly younger,
but wiser technicians than me,
who realizes scant knowledge, née
absolute zero mechanical ability,
especially regarding
twenty first century vehicles
heavily accoutered
with sophisticated technology.
Now yours truly loops
back to (house at Pooh corner -
think Loggins and Messina)
i.e. core theme
Impossible explanation within
the infinite universe scheme
to explain convincingly fluke
protection against meme
evoking death, demise, destruction,
et cetera regarding as ye gleam
teetotaler who avoids Jim Beam
plus alcohol in general, cuz
prescription medication harmful
unless feeling suicidal to thee extreme.
Thus one garden variety, generic guy
NON GMO android (ha)
he doth not fear
the grim reaper at rapier
or gunpoint, nor mortality do I despair
hoop fully made somewhat crystal clear,
a quandary (one among many
that recurred), whereby air
ring professed nihilistically
skeptical minus impulse to destroy
comprises whether doubting Thomas
(English Muffins) stance
on wing and prayer
inadequate, obsolete, untenable...
Interpreting Poetry (mine)
Similar to scrutinizing
an abstract painting,
this author begetting
obscure words dumbfounding
readers, he eludes
(no shade tree fore rest)
clear cut discerning,
yet oft times his words
garner reviews raving
esoteric word choice,
how mind boggling
to this logophile despite
more than one reading
brow (sir) furrowed -
cognitive region scrunching,
no matter intent concentration
utter futility attempting
bedeviled comprehension, whether
literary master (me? ha...
not yet), among pantheon partying,
but nonetheless birthing
present day profoundly thought provoking,
undoubtedly tirelessly expending
mental energy eventually exhausting
effort in futility understanding,
asper mine stymied
linkedin attention getting
(then just as quickly losing)
registering resignation defeat alluding
to challenge physical prowess daunting
engagement well matched savvy sparring
partner, or possibly life
and death battling
against unwittingly aggressive brutal questing
archenemy, sans toward all living
species wretched nemesis ultimately deciding
mortality tacitly accepted proffering
transient longevity refusing
to compromise, haggle, negotiate,
et cetera casting
deadened demise of victor or villain
all thru civilization starring
as unopposable tour
de force quietly biding
end date, versus indiscriminately snatching
hero, heroine, coward,
et cetera requiring
impossible ransom while donning
mask of Melpomene
(Tragedy), or trumpeting
Thalia (Comedy), no exit stage door left
only joie de vivre
until last second ticking
unbeknownst unexpected, and uninviting
deathly hallows ringtone alarming
anonymous (oh Henry)
words worth struggling
to hash meaningfulness, viz
finite existence germinating
since birth, yet
terminal realization pressing
with greater frequency when aging,
and deafeningly ear splitting
amplitude bite the bullet clamoring
to tread welcome matt acquiescing
unavoidable phase of dying
devoid of any bargain, but requiring
unconditionally punishingly suffering
silent non binding
resolution, no exemption decrying
unfair contractual obligation, nor unionizing
worth a fig yore of
speech as cosmic arbiter
blithely doth shear - pruning,
without rhyme nor reason meeting
identical fate toward everyone
even posthumous destiny yours truly awaiting.
Martial Translations
Coq au vin (Cook or wine)
by Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
1.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you merely an éclair to the greedy?
2.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you tart Amaro to the greedy?
Amaro is an after-dinner liqueur thought to aid the digestion after a large meal.
3.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you an aperitif to the greedy?
4.
Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but they’re pimps to the seedy.
Ad cenam invitant omnes te, Phoebe, cinaedi.
mentula quem pascit, non, puto, purus *****est.
You ask me why I love fresh country air?
You're not befouling it, mon frère.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
1.
You’ll find good poems, but mostly poor and worse,
my peers being “diverse” in their verse.
2.
Some good poems here, but most not worth a curse:
such is the crapshoot of a book of verse.
Sunt bona, sunt quaedam mediocria, sunt mala plura
quae legis hic: aliter non fit, Auite, liber.
He undertook to be a doctor
but turned out to be an undertaker.
Chirurgus fuerat, nunc est uispillo Diaulus:
coepit quo poterat clinicus esse modo.
1.
The book you recite from, Fidentinus, was my own,
till your butchering made it yours alone.
2.
The book you recite from I once called my own,
but you read it so badly, it’s now yours alone.
3.
You read my book as if you wrote it,
but you read it so badly I’ve come to hate it.
Quem recitas meus est, o Fidentine, libellus:
sed male cum recitas, incipit esse tuus.
Recite my epigrams? I decline,
for then they’d be yours, not mine.
Ut recitem tibi nostra rogas epigrammata. Nolo:
non audire, Celer, sed recitare cupis.
I do not love you, but cannot say why.
I do not love you: no reason, no lie.
Non amo te, Sabidi, nec possum dicere quare:
hoc tantum possum dicere, non amo te.
You’re young and lovely, wealthy too,
but that changes nothing: you’re a shrew.
Bella es, nouimus, et puella, uerum est,
et diues, quis enim potest negare?
Sed cum te nimium, Fabulla, laudas,
nec diues neque bella nec puella es.
Keywords/Tags: Martial, Latin, translation, epigram, hosts, dinner, meal, food, drink, wine, addiction, house, host, dessert
World all praise, everybody praise...
Man worship the true and only Father
Mankind open up,
And out of your mouths
Comes language only the Farther knows
Alleluia
and out of your mouths
Let the rejoicings start
Say..Alleluia
Sing..Praise Hallelujah
SPANISH VERSE...
Mundo todo elogio
El hombre adora al verdadero y unico Padre...
La humanidad se abre
Y de tu boca
Que comience la alegria
Di...Hallehuia
Canta...Alabanza Hallehuia
El mas alto
El mayor elogio
Hay..es HALLEHUIA
Say..Alleluia
Sing..Praise Hallelujah,Hallelujah
SWAHILI VERSE...
Dunia yote sifa
Mtu anaabudu Baba wa kewli na peke yake...
Wanadamu wanafungua
Na kutoka kinywani mwako
Hebu kufurahi kuanza
Sema..Aleluia
Imba.. Sifa Halleluya
Ya juu zaidi
PRAISE kubwa
Kuna..ni Halleluya
FILIPINO VERSE...
Buong mundo ang papauri
Sinasamba ng teo ang tunay at tanging Ama...
Bukas ang sangkatauhan
At mula sa iyong mga bibig
Hayaang magsimula ang pagsasaya
Say..Alleluia
Pinakamataas
Ang pinakadakilang PRAISE
Mayroong ay Halleluiah
Alleluia
FRENCH VERSE...
Monde tous les eloges
L'humanite s'ouvre
Et hors de ta bouche
Que la joie commence
Say...Alleluia
Chantez..Louange Alleluia
Le plus haut
La plus grange louang
II y a..est Alleluia
NEPALI VERSE
Visva sabai prasansa
manisa samco ra matra pitako upasana gardacha...
Manisajati khula cha
ra timro mukhabata bahira
rama'ilo suru garaum
bhannuhos..Lambiya
gaum..Prasansa hilaliuaha
uccatama
sabaibhanda thulo premi
tyaham cha.. Hilaleiaha ho
Let the rejoicings start
Say..Alleluia
Sing..Praise Hallelujah
SUNDANESE VERSE
Dunya sadaya puhian
Lalakai nyembah ka Bapa leres sareng wungkul...
Umat manusa buka nepi
Tur kaluar tina mouths Anjeun
Anggap rejoicing dimimitian
Say.. Alleluia
Nyanyi..Puji Halleluiah
Pangluhurna
Panggen mikahoyong pannggedena
Aya..neyaeta Halleluiah
...
~Just a few languages I've been around in the last two decades
from my former job...
All I know now is that in any language
Halleluiah is Halleluiah nyaeta Halleluiah is Halleluiah ay Halleluiah Alleluia est Alleluia Hallelujah hai Hallelujah Halleluya ni Halleluya Halleluiah is Halleluiah
In any language is ALL languages the highest praise is
Halleluiah
6/10/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
from anthology "INTERMITTENT PRAISE"
"All animals are equal. But some animals are more equal than others."
—George Orwell
A dozen of chickens and a number of horses, a cat and a raven, a few cows and other hoofed ones—all of which are perfectly silent. Poor wolfie. He can't even find a voice to growl. "Your Honor, if I may request for a short recess," I whisper, humiliatingly like a dying dragon. But my timid voice is drowned by a sly-looking pig's pouring of whisky into Dis Honor's gilded cup.
"Have you no respect or have you no eyes?" Squealing, he deafeningly squeals. He reminds me of that scaled wyvern whose head now sits in my living room. It roared deafeningly loud but breathed no fire. "His Honor is having his brief period of refreshment at the moment!"
With eyes too dry to cry and throat too hoarse to howl, the defendant meekly weeps. But only I hear it; the jury listens to only the silence, loud as a baby serpent's inaudible hiss, of two semi-digested pigs in his gut.
Who on earth build houses with flimsy hays or sticks nowadays anyway? And was it my client's fault that the third genius Doctor Porkchop got killed when some stray earthquake crushed his oh-so-unshakable fort built brick by bloody brick? Just whose brilliant proposal is it again to have Napoleon presiding the trial of the so-called Big Bad Wolf? If only he was a dragon—a pig-dragon at least— I would fain put the beauty that is my sword into good use right now.
Countless charges of premeditated murder, culpable animalicide, et cetera. Of course, do sentence us all to another life. I turn to look at the audience right behind me: a mare, a goat, a donkey. A soft motherly neigh followed by an intelligent baa, then by an astute silence.
"Please, Your Honor," Ridiculous. This stupid courtesy reminds me of tiptoeing past a mother Couatl guarding her eggs. "Shall we resume—"
Slams of gavel.
"Objection! Objection! Objection!" Dis Honor oinks vehemently, his mouth reeking of poorly brewed whisky—and I thought Tiamat's droppings were bad. The way he repeats the slamming of his gavel with every disgustingly pronounced objection gives me a headache as if it was my head he keeps hammering on. For the first time, being hit by the Basilisk's tail doesn't sound so bad at all. "Here you call me 'Your Honor Napoleon' in full," Oh, believe me, the honor is fully mine.
Où allons nous? Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s “Where are we going” by T. Wignesan
Ils sont venus dans une petite ville
Une bande à moitié nue soumise silencieuse
Tout ce qui restait de leur tribu.
Ils sont venus à leur vieux territoire bora
Où beaucoup d’hommes blancs maintenant vont et viennent
comme des fourmis.
La pancarte de l’agent immobilier dit: “Il est permis de jeter
des ordures ici.”
Maintenant les ordures couvrent plus que la moitié du cercle
de bora.
“Nous sommes maintenant comme des étrangers, mais la
tribu blanche est en réalité des étrangers.
La terre nous appartient, sommes nous les héritiers des
vieilles coutumes.
Nous sommes la corroboree* et la terre bora.
Nous sommes de vieux rites, les lois de nos aïeux.
Nous sommes des contes des émerveilles du Temps de Rêves,
des légendes racontées de tribus.
Nous sommes le passé, les chasses et les jeux qui nous font rire, les feux allumés autour de nos campements ici et là.
Nous sommes des éclairs sur la Colline Graphemba
Eclatants et effrayants,
Et le Tonnerre venant après lui, ce gars bruyant.
Nous sommes le lever du soleil silencieux
Illuminant pas à pas la lagune enterrée par la nuit.
Nous sommes des ombres-épouvantes revenant
subrepticement aux feux de campement qui
s’éteignent doucement.
Nous sommes la Nature et le Passé, tout ce qui comporte nos
vieilles traditions
Maintenant en train de disparaître ici et là.
Les broussailles sont détruites, ainsi la chasse et la
rire.
L’aigle, lui, est déjà parti, l’émeu et le kangourou ont aussi quitté les lieux.
Le cercle du bora a disparu.
La corroborée a disparue.
Et nous sommes en train de disparaître.
*An Australian Aboriginal dance ceremony which may take the form of a sacred ritual or an informal gathering. 'Aborigines living in the coastal Kimberley region of Australia's top end sometimes dance a corroboree re-enacting the arrival of dingoes to Australia. (Oxford English Dictionary)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016