Long Fabulously Poems

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


Spaceploitation 1

With looks of celestial damsel
On mission of mystery unravel
A fairy flies from foreign land
Fabulously to discover dreamland
With colourful feathers silky
Plumage so soft as cream milky
With a huge brain and physique
Seemingly bereft of travel unique
Marches with her wings vibrant
Only to devote herself on front 1

Space being her intriguing place
With supersonic speed that’s ace
Surmounting all hurdles many
The angel gathers speed gluttony
Hovering over planetoids tiny
Cosmic powers she has bonny
Revolving around many orbits
Surpassing all heavenly bits
Eventually lands on planet afar
Near the superb system of star 2

The landing leaves no stone unturned
For she knows her vision churned
Deep insight and attitude awesome
Make her an alien winsome
Tidy looks and trendy gait
Extremely stunning to catch and get
Her device offers a beverage strange
That has unique aura and rage
Pinkish perfect pure porridge
The cosmic food it seems from fridge 3

Tailor-made for her specific physique
Is the space suit with electro-magnetic
Induction full speed and winsome
Mere touch causes sparkle wowsome
A protective shield made of an alloy
Thus making her a space decoy
Satellites she whirls like a key chain
Space capsules she twirls on her mane
An enormous angel from an alien abode
Now at my solar system crossroad 4

What could be her mission possible!
Has been my subject of marvel
Is it to bring apocalypse fatal
Or just to revamp my earth petal
Before her I am like a neo natal
What to do to know her mettle
Time passes and she starts 
To peruse my earth full of arts
Wonders at the seas and bays
Astonishes at mountains and rays 5

I am now beside myself 
As she drills the earth deep herself
Oh soon there comes an mystery man
With torso made of crystal brand
The drilling continues till the dusk
There is a mist and her voice husk
I know it’s their language mutual
Based on the heavenly acts factual
Perhaps the mission is to find gems
In the earth stomach that overwhelms 6

Thus I’m sure she is down for mining
And exploiting the earth for farming
The drill lasts for hours twenty
Finally come out jewels aplenty
Like that of ocean-churn by Gods
Here going on planet-pumping by rods
The purpose is to adjust the axle 
Though imaginary-full of miracle
Eventually gathered all gems
Putting axle in firm place     7
Form: Couplet


Premium Member When Coempathic

When I feel compassion
with my positive needs
for love
health
trust
safety,

When I feel compassion
for my fears
wounds
negative fortress wants
to overpower perceived threats
against my egocentric compromises
with ruthless capitalism,
soulless patriarchalism,
strategic genocide,
extractive ecocide,
smug and heartless anthrosupremacy,
aggressively diseased LeftBrain dominance
inside my ruminating self
as schizophrenically viral
outside Those Evil People
voices
without kind choices,

When I feel compassion
with my healthy integral potential
and for my pathological capacity
to do more harm
to further wound EarthTribal consciousness
to militarize my fearmongering
and anger repressing words,

When I feel compassion
as the guy who loves listening
to friends and family, and even foes
excited about our multigenerational attachments
to multicolored
and fabulously gay designed
exotically sexy fragrant flowers

Is also the coempathizing guy
who shares DNA
and bicameral neurosystemic flow structures
with Vladimir Putin
and those who voted for him,
with Adolph Hitler
and those who voted for him,
Donald Trump
and those who voted for him,
Mitch McConnell
and those who voted for his Straight Corporate Man Party,
and possibly even Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene,
and those Georgians who voted for her
bad blond self-image

Which is decidedly not Green
in any feminist compassionate
organically cooperative
and co-empathically engaged way
and means to truth
and healthy resilient life

Maybe,
as I have sometimes whispered,
not-green Greene is a toxic infestment
machine
planted by an alien aryan planet

When I feel compassion
what do I need?
want?
crave?

CoEmpathic cooperation
and healthy co-investment,
experiences of win/win strategic game playing,
celebrating our resonant
positive
social neurological systems
for restorative health
for cooperative
long-term
EarthTribe safety.

When I feel compassion
for my engaged side
AND my dark and ominous potential
to fail in my own indigenous
humane
natural/spiritual development potential,

Then I can at least laugh
with my own creative conspiracy theories
and against my own tragic Earth-degenerative
Mutually Assured Destruction,
MADness that might take out humanity

Or,
even worse,
eradicate Earth's wild
and domesticated flowers.

Premium Member halloween party memory from 1974

my makeup was fabulously light green, lips ruby red
I fit in well with the theme, witches, warlocks and the undead
the blue I had sprayed in my hair glittered like starlight
when we entered the party, a gang began a quick fight

my witch hat was pointed at an odd funny angle
could I get a dance? Just one maybe wrangle?
I looked at my husband whose nose gave a twitch.
I looked fabulous as a sexy, gorgeous young witch

my husband dressed as Dracula with cape and red tie
he watched me dance with another, we both wondered why
the rest of the night my man spun me around the floor
I had not danced in a while, my legs and heart said we wanted more.

My friend laughed at our exuberance yelled out “get a room!”
I gave her a gentle tap on the head with my yellow straw broom.
the food was delicious, the drinks were cold and refreshing.
my husband’s eyes were on me, I knew he was undressing.

funny to me, since we already had two babies at home.
the next thing I knew, I was picked up by a gnome.
The gnome ran off with me to the ladies room to gab.
she had a lot to tell me, and she wanted to blab.

this was a Halloween party provided by my school.
At our principal’s house, and he was now a fool.
Made silly by drinks, which went straight to his head.
His wife was so embarrassed, she sent him to bed.

teacher friends were dressed as goblins, super heroes, and a ghost.
We all discussed unabashedly the craziness of our elusive host.
He was a shy guy, and would be embarrassed to death about this.
A cobra slithered up to me and tried to speak with a hiss.

Nancy! I was delighted, she was my best pal at school.
She had a lot to confide about our nemesis, Mr. O’Toole.
O’Toole was walking around saying dumb things to everyone.
Speaking with Nancy about him was incredibly fun.


My husband was devouring everything off a huge silver tray.
Tidbits and appetizers in black, orange, yellow, and gray.
two jack-o-lanterns were giving me a clever candle wink.
I felt cute tonight, happy, totally energetic, and in the pink.

we had a sitter that night for the first time since our second baby.
Do you want to go home yet? I stared at my man. “No, yes, maybe.”
With two children at home under the age of two, this was a delight.
A marvelous Halloween party that made me feel happy and right.
Form: Rhyme

Blech impossible mission to savor mug of ginger tea

Blech - impossible mission to savor mug of ginger tea...

When the entire mug awash
with floating leavings
by golly by gosh,
sipping said herbal brew
analogous challenge
to eat spaghetti squash
with one chopstick.

Earlier yesterday February twenty fourth
two thousand twenty four
found yours truly (me)
blithely consuming delicious
La COLOMBE DOUBLE LATTE
cold iced latte, complete
with a frothy layer
of milk and a touch of sugar.

Lower gastrointestinal war civil
immediately declared
because yours truly beleaguered
by lactose intolerance.

Courtesy veritable sweet tooth
(er...rather dentures)
craved absolute zero sum game yoking,
wickedly villainous, x'acting tummy
upsetting Pavlovian salivating, romancing,
quid pro quo woe pea pie us, orthodox,
conventional, nun habit forming (Lie),
mouth watering, lip locked, kickstarting,
Je Suis ill lust trios, hymn bracing,
gobstopping, feasting immediate laxative
inducing, decadent chocolate baneful

cake courtesy of adoring bubela, (the
same over stuffed ego freezer oft
mentioned counterpart, who unwittingly
prepared spot of tea), charming,
hugely overpowering tenderly loving
zee missus diabolically exuding
"FAKE" gracious humane insinuating
jabbering, knowingly ill loo man hating,
needful offal pestiferous quasi rip
snorting, tush under fire, violent

whooshing, expelling xyz lower
abdominal contractions, indubitably
kindling, jumpstarting instagramming
howling, fostering execrable, debilitating,
besieging posterior, automatically
clutching derriere, experiencing ferocious
gluteus maximus intractable jabbing, knifing,
lacerating, mutilating nameless oaf (me),
painfully quaking das simian, torturously
undergoing vicious wretched excessive
yawping worse fate than death!

Otherwise ass hide from irritable bowel
syndrome approximately
twenty four hours ago
from Saturday February twenty fifth
two thousand twenty four
me quite yawningly wonderful, uneventful,
sedate, quiet, ordinary, mundane, languid,
joyously humdrum, fabulously for
two whit tuss lee drab
characterized local buttuck blaster
also hashtagged endearment
as bubble butt.

Now shall I cut thee a slice of outrageously
luscious, keister jump/kick starting heavenly 
gourmet deluxe cheese cake?
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Changes





     A smoky vignette opens up, as if morning fog over the mountain valleys blown by winter winds. 
     Piano notes pulsing in a melancholic, waltz~ like cadence…the plangent tension of one long note on a mellotron held throughout the rhythmic piano notes sounds dolorous and desolate. 
     Images of 18th century couples in formal gowns and elaborate, powdered wigs dance through my mind. The hoop skirts gently sway as the couples move in a pattern, heads thrown back and arms rigidly locked in position. 
The plaintive, closed throat voice of a man begins to sing, simply…

“ I feel unhappy,
  I feel so sad. 
I've lost the best friend
that I ever had.
 She was my woman,
 I loved her so.
 But it's too late now, 
I let her go. 
I'm going through changes,  
I'm going through changes. “

     The couples spin and dance this waltz
 all together, covering the dance floor like flowers 
               twirling a wind storm. 
The fabulously tall and flamboyant wigs 
disappear as does the pale make up on their faces. 

     The rigid yet beautiful dance continues as couples take turns covering the entire ballroom. 
     At each rotation, there's a change, some detail is different, the moles disappear and are replaced with fake eyelashes and red lipstick. 
    The gentlemen first have hair in low tails clubbed at the neck, then short locks and pompadours. Dresses go from elaborate ball gowns to poodle skirts and then to skimpy spangled dresses. 
     We watch as they dance and convert from one fashion, and one decade,  to the next. 

     The final notes ring out, vibrating the room and the couples come to a halt, standing like statues in their perfect waltz form. 
     We realize that although every outward appearance has undergone transformations, some things never change.... 
     Humanities love and dependence on music
 and the compelling urge to dance to express the emotions that music elicits... surpassing every boundary, race, culture, and people. All of us use this expression in one form or another. An urgent expression of
Joy, love, sorrow, passion, pain, and on and on…
only able to fully express our feelings
 through melodies and  
the poetry of dance.


The Adventures of Enea, Part 7 of 13

Enea's Pope!  (2)

I suppose it’s common knowledge
(and not tedious, I hope!)
that two-thirds of the Sacred College
must concur to elect a pope.        

With eighteen cardinals gathered,
twelve was the number to get.
They were nervous, preoccupied, lathered,
for there was no favourite yet.

Day One turned out quite indecisive,
Calindrini accomplishing five:
Enea’s vote, far from derisive –
his five kept his prospects alive.

D’Estouteville’s position was healthy,
and he lobbied for all he was worth.
It helped to be fabulously wealthy,
and promise the voters the earth.

“I don’t want to sound like a critic,”
(thus whispered d’Estouteville in private)
“but look at him – pauper, arthritic.
There’s something you need?  I’ll contrive it.”

The gist of the cardinal’s sermon
was that Enea worshipped Apollo,
and was anyway almost a German,
dire consequences were certain follow.

A cardinals’ caucus at midnight
convoked by the frenchified faction
made it seem that the tertium quid might
take a piece of the Rouenais action.

D’Estouteville himself was a teller
when they voted the very next day:
they’d do better to pick Helen Keller –
one of Enea’s votes “went astray”.

Now Enea’s on nine votes, and leading:
a silence descends on the throng.
D’Estouteville is far from conceding:
this process could well be prolonged.

In silence they sit in the Sistine,
feckless, faineant, forlorn
(the chapel itself is still pristine:
Michelangelo hasn’t been born.)

A shout comes from Borgia (Rodrigo,
that’s Cesare’s father-to-be),
“I’m switching to you, mi amigo!”
That’s one of the necessary three!

And then speaks Tebaldi of Naples:
“I’ll go with Siena as well!”
It’s looking decidedly papal,
as friends of d’Estouteville can tell!

One vote is now all that is needed,
one vote and he’s pontifex max:
one vote and he’s finally succeeded:
one vote is the one thing he lacks!

Colonna gets up from his cushion:
d’Estouteville and chums know the score:
unseemly, the shovin’ and pushin’:
they bundle him out of the door.

The spectacle can’t be called splendid.
“Enea, I’m making you pope!”
The greasy pole’s now been ascended:
It’s time for the slippery slope!
Form: Quatrain

They can take their Big Battles with them

Green Peace or Hunt for the Royal Sun-
trying to get off a planet poisoned by hate and greed-
warlike ideologies armed to the rotten teeth 
hoping to find a New World out of here-out there
hanging waiting in out of reaches space 
Beyond the Sun, the Moon, the Earth, et al. 
A Perfect 10 Solar System. 
This Self-sufficient Blue Pearl blueprint 
Mindfully designed with Neverending cycles
of renewal after upheaval, regeneration after destruction-
Krakatoa springs to mind - a symbol of regenesis hope... 

The gravity of standing upright all over the earth 
grounds us to the world right under our feet
We are barefoot and free 
Right here in our own back garden. 

An apple falling from a tree-did the sky just fall on my head? 
Does it take rocket science to search for answers? 
Imagination is not always fabulously expressed to see
how many similar ways to escape man's past, present, future... 

With heightened mind, Newton searched the Scriptures
with soul searching questions, wrote more than enough
about what was relevant to warriorlike quest-
Focus fixated on the origins of his earthborn mind
Needing to find his spiritual image revealed in endless space. 

The physical brain laid out in its original state
of innate need for never-ending learning
So we can reinstate the quest to find 
the fringes of divine knowledge-
On our earthly doorstep. 


Aqua M
Deep Dive Poem
10/02/2024

Keys from the Word: Isaiah 55:7 - 11."For as the heavens are higher than the earth, 
                                      so my ways are higher than your ways, 
                                       and my thoughts than your thoughts." 
                                      Ecclesiastes 3: 10-13." He has made everything beautiful in it's time. 
                                      He has even put eternity in their heart, yet mankind will never find out
                                      the work the true God has found from the start to the finish. "

Wedding Anniversary

 Hey my Sparkling light from heaven of blue sky,
       Marrying You,None of the path in life is empty without Your love!!
You are the dawn turning my night into day,
       Nature  residing in You is the god's gifted creativity,
Life is been delighted with wonders and joy's being with You!!

Hey my Weatherbeater, with You everyday rise with the Upstream and 
vanish my worries,
       You are Staggering force of water with whom I wave!!
You are the Iconic Prism of my life deviating a beam of romantic ness all 
around,
       Stopping by life's biggest question you were the one who took my     
       breath away!!
You are the like the Seaboard bracing the sand and getting dissolved in 
passion of Love,
       Hey my Jewel casket, I feel secured in your sheathe!!
You are the one who always glimmer amongst all the planet,
       Yes Your Lovely smile stucked between paired lips always pleased me 
absolutely in its own way!!

Fabulously enduranced my soul,
       Artfully You committed!!
Wanna fleet admirally along with You,
       Hey my prismatic light, being with You spectral colours bloomed in my 
       Life with Your refraction!!
Something apparently sensed , something made us connected,
       Something arised our feelings, something exchanged our emotions!!
Something made us hear the faint phantom bells from the heart,
       Yes Your Stupefyingly impressive attitude, integrated 
       orientation,Extravert disposition connected me!!

Blissfully You call me as darling, addressing me as Your Life partner I really 
felt blessed,
       Conjuring togetherness had made our life magically beautiful!!
Wooing with You, days is passing amorously graceful,
       Hey Colorful palette, Every shade in You made me feel stimulated!!
You ignited fire in me, Aroused craziness to its height,
       Setting sun kindled the sky with red and orange ,likewise You spread 
       the flames of love drived in every route!!
Tying the knot, we eloped away.. created wonders everywhere!!
© Maddy Sp  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Didactic

Fun Off Rhyme Crafted Early Doors

Time’s up 
mind’s plucked 
watch me cave in 
rhymes suck 
my luck 
hair’s wearing thin 
corrupt 
destruct 
stops me thinking 
clocks stuck 
bell struck 
sound silencing 

Now I told you the minds plucked 
first line look 
write the hook 
tip top tin pot I’m all shook up 
lips lock can’t talk words in a book
flip flop fell off feet feel the muck 
this rhyme of mine now starts to cook

Grapes with stems and apples with pips in 
baking tin's hot for mashing cakes in 
microwaves hum the smells you’re craving 
visual treat the way this laying 

succulent senses smells utensils 
music playing instrumentals 
banana berries you see genitals 
banana cock with very berry balls 

admittedly imagery imaginary calamity 
the title says forced not fabulously 
perspective talent I have or haven't 
clear to see or transparent

a fight night fight knight fights fight knights 
fighting fighters fighting fights 
right through the night 'til early light 
it's quite a sight when fight knights fighting 
fight knights fighting fighters fighting fights fight all night

forced but great 
cook or bake 
walnuts cakes  
waste of space 
pick out of place 
left on plates
cake fills waist

rhyme overrates 
I say it straight 
this page you save 
bookmark cook shart 
favourites hook hearts 
great hits honk large
grey bits bonk hard
you think I'm
bonkers
more like plonkers pond cars boats 
random words I just float

flash dance 
gash glance 
entrance 
splash pants 
drains fast 
seepage 
expands 
stains grand 
up set
get set 
marks 
won’t go
on show 
all know 
ball bag blow 
fool go home 

rhyme it like you're mental 
do it with pen not pencil 
don't rub it out write it again 
I know a penguin poet called Gwen 
no go again mean this poem's a gem

Time’s up mind’s plucked watch me cave in 
rhymes suck my luck hair’s wearing thin 
corrupt destruct stops my thinking 
and no I haven't been foster drinking
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

My Petition

i don't want to hear another love song, feel another connection of infinite 
possibilities.
I don't want to go through question and answering 
deciphering if it should be he tired of going through 
the mundane oracles of tedious non-lasting interactions
with dream filled propitious creatures of non-substance pretending to be men.
I don’t want to hear the woes and aww’s of your lifetime, only to feel compelled 
to hold you, rub your 
Whispering it’s ok because im here. 
I don’t want to waste my energy of useless phone calls of empty conversations 
subsiding pretentious contacts of repetitive gestures.
I don’t want to understand how you need time because it feels real you are 
just unsure of the man you should be
Because if you were the man you could be than I wouldn’t be writing this poem
I don’t want to listen to your rage of deception and butter licked lies.
I don’t want to show why im fit to be your queen ,
when it should already be obvious. I don’t want to teach you to want me, 
oblivious gestures of spontaneous delights to adore me,
show you the opportunities to openly love me, only to give in to me, 
b/c I taught you how to be with me. 
I don’t want to have expectations of beauty and romance only to be 
disappointed by consistent form of lack.
I don’t want to hear another justified lie why this just isn’t the right time, 
but if im patient we’ll season to be something great in due time. 
What I want is to be. 
Beautifully potently fabulously illuminated desired by love, 
by a man who knows what he wants and embraces it openly. 
his smile is a reflection of me, 
the escape from reality my sanction of perfect bliss in the midst of chaos, 
the vacation i take without even moving, the melody to every note ringing in 
my ear, the music we become,
just to hear him say hello on a day the sun is physically shining, but radiating 
b/t the two.
i don't want to have another blissful moment, without the continuing of you..

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