Long Forked Poems
Long Forked Poems. Below are the most popular long Forked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forked poems by poem length and keyword.
Jinxed jesting jejune junior jobber...
just jabbering gibberish (A - I)
Again, another awkward ambitious
arduous attempt at alphabetically
arranging atrociously ambiguously
absolutely asinine avoidable alliteration.
Because...? Basically bonafide belching,
bobbing, bumbling, bohemian beastie boy,
bereft bummer, bleeds blasé blues, begetting
bloviated boilerplate bildungsroman,
boasting bougainvillea background.
Civil, clever clover chomping, cheap
chipper cool cutthroat clueless clodhopper,
chafed centenary, codifies communication
cryptically, challenging capable, certifiably
cheerful college coed.
Divine dapper daredevil, deft, destitute,
doddering, dorky dude, dummkopf Dagwood
descendent, dagnabbit, demands daring
dedicated doodling, dubious, dynamite,
deaf dwarf, diehard doppelganger, Doctor
Demento double, declaring depraved
daffy dis(pense)able dufus Donald Duck
derailed democracy devastatingly defunct.
Eccentric, edified English exile,
effervescent, elementary, echinoderm
eating egghead, Earthling, excretes,
etches, ejaculates, effortless exceptional
emphatic effluvium enraging eminent,
eschatologically entranced, elongated
elasmobranchii, emerald eyed Ebenezer,
effectively experiments, emulates epochal
eczema epidemic, elevating, escalating,
exaggerating enmity, enduring exhausting
emphysema.
Freed fentanyl fueled, fickle figurative
flippant fiddler, fiendishly filmy, fishy,
fluke, flamboyantly frivolous, fictitious,
felonious, fallacious, fabulously fatalistic,
flabbergasted, fettered, flustered, facile,
faceless, feckless, financially forked,
foregone, forlorn futile fulsome, freckled
feverish, foo fighting, faulty, freezing,
fleeting famously failing forecaster, flubs
"FAKE" fundamental fibber fiat, fabricating
fiery fissile fractured fios faculties.
My open mouth breathing, blast you with hot breath,
Hyperventilating while holding my breath, at the same time I barely exhale death
Eyes petechiae blood on all sides, the more I hold this deep lung.
Spewing fire with my words, spitting venom with my forked tongue,
Shooting solar rays from my eye gaze as it rebounds,
Total annihilation in my raze, which levels structures to the ground.
My forces can propel rockets to space by the words I choose,
My vibrations can intercept communication transmitations by thousands of waves that blow the arcing fuse.
My electrical beams are from the original obelisk that are still in their constructed stations,
Not the obelisk that were pirated, stolen and relocated to other nations.
The plasma that shoots from my fingertips destroy all that it comes into contact with,
Magical powers soon to be exercised and not specified by any one particular myth.
This energy of my force is the source of the total demolition of Mars,
It doesn't end there, as I also consume both solar and blue dwarf stars.
New day, same day;
Depression drips
Hot on tortured meat.
Bloated grime and
Still doing time,
For beating shrinks
Just for fun we think.
Of grievous thoughts,
Of solid waste
In dampened corners
And diaper paste.
Spit trash and tinsel,
On souls unmeasured
For your child's redemption,
Or thoughts uncensored.
Back to paradise.
Wrong turns incinerate
Your blood and your mood
These brains incarcerate.
Get forked up into
Some greedy god's mouth.
Limp and lame
To rise up the South.
And your prison is yours
Made out of rock
And fried dung heaps of verbs
And fool's nouns and slop.
And the Words continue
As if looking for bliss
That you can dive into,
Just another swing and a miss.
One addiction, one penny
One car and one wreck
We kiss so slightly
The nape of the neck.
Of time driven to sorrow
Time is sliced into fours:
Drinking, dancing
Pills and a whore.
Jump and swirl.
Blasae blah.
All gumption is gone
Hallelujah.
the lighthouse stands by the edge of the sea-
a solid tower guarding the f o r b i d d i n g highway of ships
a picture of q u i e t tranquility in an eternal WAR of sea and shore
then a GASP- as clouds swirl like sheets and thunder claps giant hands
the wind is r o a r i n g across the restless emptiness of steel blue water
and foaming waves crash against the lighthouse trying to rock his foundation
but lighthouse holds on t i g h t as forked lightning moves across the sky
the whole sky lights up for a moment . . .
the storm is VIOLENT and determined to topple lighthouse into the sea
but he digs d e e p into the jagged rocks (this is not his first storm)
r a i n pours in torrents- the sea surging and F A L L I N G back . . .
the fury of waves, a chorus of v o i c e s screaming
threatening, raging, lashing into the lighthouse like a wild banshee-
thunder and wild winds in time drift out to SEA and lighthouse utters a sigh . . .
________________________
July 26, 2017
Free Verse/Symphony of the Sea
Copyright Protected, ID 923597
Written for the contest, Lighthouse
sponsor, Eve Roper
First Place
in the mouth of desire, inverted spires
lean toward the grots of Hell.
tongues forked, skewered with sapphires
in the mouth of desire, inverted spires.
Adam's apple burning cores, as moths for martyrdom's fires.
on the path to perdition: many had attended well.
in the mouth of desire, manipulation stirs.
the crone fanning her cauldron
a hot vat of ruin, Wiccan shrieks and whirs.
in the mouth of desire, manipulation stirs -
a warlock's cherished heart of burrs,
tears of crocodiles, his every gentleness abandoned.
in the mouth of desire, sirens sweet, curses
lure purple wearers and weavers, beasts with saints,
low_down to the broad gates, gilt black, swinging purses.
in the mouth of desire, sirens' sweet curses
but wisdom's rare jewels, bereft in their verses.
for want of wisdom, man's sovereign will faints.
Lately a person begins to read between the lines
how a network of human beings devalue another's worth
battered and bruised internally exhausted at times
they make you invisible shying away from the truth
To hurt someone that only wishes to speak and correct wrong
a violent nature lacks any respect to honour Justice correctly
certain groups have become hostile to straight talkers even violent
Charity cases crying over sin and vices to be accepted as normal
to carve the hammer into words etched on stone cold laid facts face
The bully is enslaved by their desire to overturn God
burning hate pretends to be polite sticking the dagger in
lacking innocence it poisons the purity in defence
You can be a murderer butchering defenceless beings
but you can't be seen to pray without being insulted
Eyes furtive carry the reflected sheen of aluminium paint that is smooth a chrome flood
On the tin roof of the woodshed seen, with moonlight awash, awaking the dreaming scene.
The light has the tint of coyote’s hair; the furtive fox is rising to maraud with that
Peripheral stare, the balance tail is curving around a body still turning, his eyes red dots
Burn beside the russet and auburn fur, in the night full deep, guard dog in slumbering sleep,
With a stealthy gait the stooping steep steps you negotiate, around the mottled boulders
Grey you move or even! glide your way. The lightest breeze full on your face, with elegant
Tresses like a filigree trace, to soundless halt you poise your form upon the ledge with its
Girth two pace. Your.. goal in sight about to spring.! with visage grim, the huddled lambs
Sense... sudden..fear! They start to bleat hear querulous tones, the move was neat! Yet P D
Drops down on lightening feet, from her crop of rock with a body shock, she lands on him
With her forked tree limb, his neck is pinned, in her sundown boots she stands on his tail at
The very root, with feral fear his eyes a-glare, how now will the tale of the captured fox ensnared
Unfold? Don’t destroy the tail of this fox caught cold! She could train him as her reddy scout
He has a fine nose plus attuned senses that she alone caught out!.. or better still she could
Keep him well penned perhaps in documents contained, or back to herr schäffer send!
I have come out of retirement ha ha! for P D's inner animal contest .
© JOE MAVERICK 2-01-2011
THIS INCIDENT TOOK PLACE IN THE EARLY 70'S
She was a mean witch from the North end of the city, imagine the tears
I was only sixteen and right out of high school, I was so eager to please
this spinster who had never married was chronically frugal and austere
out for blood, she forked me with fish eyes and brought me to my knees
Save ever scrap of paper, only two cookies on his china cup, Missy
I worked in a Jewish Company where the boss wore three piece suits
He had a son who developed a crush on me so of course dad was mad
I was a Catholic girl not a good match for his Jewish son, how sad
Then one day "Boss" called me into the office said," sorry, your fired"
it was a blow to my ego, what else could I do but smile and walk away
next I was hired by a big company, working diligently and never tired
being tri-lingual got me a spot at the big boardroom, top guns array
The boss of my boss took a dislike to me, so he just got rid of me
Human resource's snap remark, "you won't make it, your too soft "
I cried all the way home but knew I was ok for I had love of family
bull crap comes in many sizes, still I climbed slowly up the loft
Today I realize those who mean to me helped me grow a strong backbone,
needless to say envy and hate can make you feel inferior and utterly alone.
Dec 4, 2021
Contest Name: King-Size Bull Crap
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.
In his tongue.
Whose tongue?
Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell.
What, with my tongue in your tail?
Nay, come again, Good Kate;
I am a gentleman.
—William Shakespeare, The Taming of the Shrew
(exchange between Petruchio and Katherine)
Love looks like blue skies, nay.
Today is the tango of sister twisters.
Innuendos don’t behave. They slave
over the mountains and valleys.
Twines of a forked tongue, devilishly
misbehaving, drunken in delight.
Good Kate, is she kind, his kind of date?
Will she satisfy his intellect, his loins?
Is he a gentleman, this Shakespeare?
Is his lady worthy of remarkable taste?
Petruchio, with his yellow jacket,
prepared to sting, with lover’s words.
Katherine’s falling into the Venus fly trap
as she plays along, bidding farewell.
Petruchio draws her back in
wagging his tail and tongue.
These heavy boots filled by Taylor and Burton
acting in real time and on the silver-tongued screen.
If the ballroom could produce such a tango as this,
Shakespeare himself would rise and erupt in applause.
A Collaboration with Marti Sutherland
Circling the table before they feast, black ravens crow
bright beady eyes darting to and fro, away they go
landing on a wounded body that has not yet died
circling the skies before they feast, dark ravens cried
On their bellies through titanic grass, slimy snakes slither
forked tongues searching for innocent prey, coming hither
Reptiles crawling from under rocks, cold-blooded and chilled
their fangs leaving lethal bites, and another victim is killed
skulking in shifting shadows, deceitful humans lie in wait
Bearing no name, no face; beware of the wicked who hate
Brutal bashers who take what they want at the cost of life
Back stabbers living in a harsh world where hypocrisy is rife
Ravens, snakes and evil humans sit on thrones of deceit
Like black widows they feast on their mates when they cheat
They spin their lies so easily, like the sticky web of a spider
Beware you are not caught when their mouths open wider