Long Flouting Poems

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


Premium Member Knowing by becoming

Each morn we ready ourself for a bout
Flouting laws of God without feeling shame
Conscience that once whispered, begins to shout
But we heed it not, unable to tame
Ego urge that offers excuses lame
So we dwell in darkness without a clue
That deluded is ego’s claim to fame
Diffused komorebi light will not do

Partial awakenings shroud mind in doubt
Heart knows for sure when soul becomes the flame
Divine love, light and bliss begins to spout
Held flicker-free in our mind-body frame
Distanced from thrust of lust that tends to maim
Whence we garner wisdom known to but few
Knowing for our follies we are to blame
Diffused komorebi light will not do

Recognising God’s laws we ought not flout
We see God’s light in all souls as the same 
Then gentling our touch, as we go about
We breeze through life as though it is a game
Yet holding firm focus and our soul’s aim
Making our heart pure like fresh morning dew
Eternal light of Self, we thus reclaim
Diffused komorebi light will not do

Transmuted as living light, we exclaim
If thoughts be but still, we’ll get a clear view
Of heaven within heart, scriptures acclaim
Diffused komorebi light will not do
Form: Ballade


Premium Member My Flowered Vegetable Sweetheart-

Sweet heart my passion dear pumpkin
Sweeter than a cabbage you are my sweet corn
somewhat louder than the bourn
Deep into that darkness sprouting
Liken a flower blossoming
How they were shouting, touting - flouting
those the farmers and gardeners
They abloom allemandes abstracting
Ah, distinctly I was defoliating
Your stock, your stem the bud of your flower

My mind always strays to you you’re beautiful as the trees
I crave your sweet, shrubby sycamore
I crave the awash, abloom abstract almond leaves
That, that the moment my soul grew cute
What could there be more purely brute?
Sweeter than the summer sun
Hotter than 4th of July
somewhat more covering than a parachute
you warned me about the spreading roots
Come grow with me
Come grow within me, come go with me
Deep into that darkness rising
the palmetto seemed happy synthesizing
what could there be more purely enterprising?
And the Tasmania was utilizing
Of the emergence's that is realizing
Deep into that darkness pollarding
Deep into that darkness spiraling

Instead I uncovered the squash
There stood an engaged goulash
While I pondered, awesome and swash
Much I marveled the square cherry tomato
I crave the gorgeous, glorious garlic
Remembering many cacciatore, horrendous mounts
The many microlight mushrooming
Such you are as I am
A pollenated vegetable won’t you be my flower
Come my sweetheart my flower stand with me under the rain showers

8/26/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©

Premium Member Nepenthe


Within the fragile frame of my fervent heart, 
tinged with the tinsels of the amorous night, 
my love gleamed with an enticing shimmer, 
reflected by the sequins of your subtle grace. 

In my enthralled psyche I felt the tempting touch 
of your intangible mesmeric charisma,
but you sauntered away from my entranced sight, 
like the autumn cloud across my dream sky.

From the ebony edge of the night of despair  
storm clouds surged with thunder of tearing strife,
splintered my dreams, dispersed them in debris,
as you turned into a devastating whirlwind.

The miasma of pervasive melancholy enveloped
the shattered landscape of my languished longing. 
The solemn sigh of its drifting sense of desolation
     trailed the dissenting resonance of painful severance.      

Your flouting footsteps trampled uncaring
my emotive flower as you departed unconcerned.
Its crumbled petals in anguish made a bouquet  
for the wreckage pile of my broken heart.

In the cauldron of hope I distilled pain for nepenthe,
drank the elixir, entered the domain of forgetfulness.
Before my collapsing conscience weathered the soul, 
I arose sane from the dust, saw the beauty life was.

Premium Member Strayed Sheep

Along the roads of grassy fields 
where thousands of sheep flit from
Astray from the flock, flouting,
fleeing with fear
blindly following.

Driven through the streets of London
at the Barnet fair to the farmers there.
But the way,     takes an insalubrious plot.
Sheer confusion along the countryside
sets in on the herd, then stray
when eddying rapids currented by the tide
and force of the streams give, taken  
to an endless frequent float  
for great distances steered,  stirred
while the timorous turn 'round. 
An endeavor to gain the place they set off
As along ancient grassy drove road lies,
weary shepherd and his  sheepdog.
Drovers, some    on the hoof

The sheep shall stray  
back to stay presently in Eden's garden
Jade-green grassy hills of harvest gold, 
and cerulean skies.
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

If Trump wins rest in peace Mother of Freedom

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.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Concerto Of Clotting


Finally my blood began to coagulate,
and stopped to seep out of the slashed heart,
lacerated in the tempest of turmoil
by the sharp shards of your refutation.

In the memory meadow I found a crack split open
in the longing ledge of my hypnotized heart, 
where the sole sapling of love bloomed in brilliance, 
freed from the compelled confinement of isolation.

In your embrace my senses gracefully turned
into rhapsodic rhythm of heart enchanted within,
set the course of the lingering love so long latent
to sail in the sensuous stream of my yearning.

In the tormenting torrent of zooming zephyr, 
as you drifted away unconcerned past me, 
and blew a devastating storm of apathy, 
my fragmented fervent feeling became rapture ruins.

Your flouting indifferent footsteps trampled  
my emotive flower as you departed uncaring,
its crumbled petals made a wreath 
for the bleeding bits of my broken heart.

In the flow of time I saw the essence of my soul,
its healing measures created the concerto of clotting,  
as liquid lines turned into coalesced connection,
the splendorous suture made my heart whole again.

Premium Member Petals Of Pain


I hear the squelch of sorrow 
nearing me once again,
pummels with the purple pulsation, 
with the unheard echo in the frail veins.
The miasma of sadness envelopes 
the mind-soul-body trinity,
the sigh of its drifting desolation
trails the dissenting resonance of remoteness. 

In the domain of the dwindling day, 
at the edge of the tarnished twilight,
the halcyon horizon melts away 
in the misty air of decomposed delight.
As the sunset spectrum spins exhilaration
with the surreal astral strands,
the fleet of cloud in sensual sapphire sky
turns into floating violin in enthralled psyche.
 
After scanning the seamless sky 
it’s time for my marooned bird to return
to the nest, riding deserted 
the sanguine radiant rays it fails to feel.
Its outspread worn out wings glide
with the beat of my heart
over the snapped sonorous strings
of the dusty violin, playing discordant tune.

At the fringe of the derelict dusk, 
after the flight through the day,
the scarlet sun sips the sea 
before slipping away to obscurity,
dissolves its floating colors 
in the water that tosses weary
in the tides of torment tear, 
carrying the gloomy horizon to the shore.

In the passion sea of my yearning,  
rapture waves shine like your pearly smile. 
With mesmeric moonbeam lattice of charm,
its sequins splash on my essence.
In scintillating stream of zooming zephyr, 
as you drift away unconcerned, past me, 
blow a devastating storm of apathy, 
my feelings scatter on the debris of ecstasy.

Suffused with the diffused drizzle 
of my fading love at somber sunset,
you disappear beyond the gloomy garden, 
once a desire den of my delight.  
Your flouting footsteps trample  
my emotive flower as you depart.
Its crumbled petals of pain make a wreath 
for the wreckage of my broken heart.

Don'T Riddle Me a Mistake

Don’t riddle me a mistake
Every tomorrow brings a new day. 
Every new day is a continuation of the previous day. 
Every previous day’s problems follow on into the next day 
so the past should fail, to be forgotten
So, it is history? 
but how can I explain, the past is the present. 
The past was yesterday
but yesterday begins today.
Yesterday is your life today
Forgetting the past is like flouting the present
if you let it go, you lose yourself. 
I will not let it go. 
I won’t be forgotten. 
I will not fade nor blend with the shadows.
I won’t silence myself, as the wind does in summer. 
I deserve to be more than the present.
I deserve to be remembered today
for what I was yesterday
So don’t riddle me a mistake 
I didn’t not force myself on you. 
I am grateful though 
because of you, 
yesterday I breathed 
today I am alive 
So don’t riddle me a mistake!

Limitations of Poetic License

According to the dictates of Suzy Berlinsky, 
a Hello Poetry sibilant chargé d'affaires 
female equivalent, sans Grand Poobah
aye surmise she deems my preference 

favoring lower case, especially taking 
a figurative page from thee poetic play
book of e.e. cummings, (not to be con-
fused with Elijah E. Cummings, thee 

American, and United States Democrat
representing Maryland's majority dark
skinned precinct of Baltimore County 
seventh congressional district), whose 

shadow of fame diminished, but flagrant
flapping flaunting Puritanical principles
tantamount to in traducing taboos up- 
ending ala revolutionary lampooning

his trademark imprimatur guilt frisson
faculty of his to delve into controversial
material blatantly candidly devotedly ex
pressing thoughts, sentiments, and re-

flexes skewed asper an irreverent teas-
zing exuberance flouting orthodox re-
finery by playfully making mince meat
of long cherished, fixed, and insulated

mores as shock treatment technique to 
exhibit parsimonious, opprobrious, and
noxious malice lobbing fondness for 
writing without heeding thy fondness
 
NOT CAPITALIZING the first person 
singular pronoun, i, an upside down
exclamation point, whose dot eye see
clearly despite the fierce maelstrom!

Lady Liberty Lies Slain

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.

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