Long Gainsay Poems
Long Gainsay Poems. Below are the most popular long Gainsay by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gainsay poems by poem length and keyword.
There's A Pedophile In The House...
(ah...ah...ah...ham eye white...???)
OMG,... and he looks...
SAY WHAT??? just like me???,...
absolutely NO WAY!!!,
would this sensitive,
respectful, "FAKE" veejay
quiet-natured, mindful,
loving, kind, underplay
justice invoking, hew today
mainly, gentle, friendly, "I say"
enlightened, democratic chap redisplay
any besotted abominable,
blamable, culpable, quay
esse chin hubble
despicable, execrable prey
dot door formidable,
inhospitable...overplay
ying faux indulgent,
NOR be mistaken
to assay, betray, convey,
display, expressway more fay
writ his'm to
gainsay hearsay, inveigh
jaw dropping "FAKE"
yuge weak accusations
(by a long shot), sans
basket of conspiring deplorables
attempting to assassinate
bigly believe me tubby "stupid"
winning loser to berate,
who doth unequivocally create
mine substantial vocabulary rumor,
versus 4th grade reading level
trumpeting librettist - thee great
test Don Quixote
(as falsely sung with hate
full sotto voce), and ramped up
as ill suited mate
a minus [sic] zero moron,
which doth hapt
tubby incredibly tremendous
disservice to bona fide classy idiots
with a lot of money
(like the millions and billions
of my golfing confrères)
given bent iron golf clubs
used by crooked Hillary,
when former Secretary of State
ideal for Putin on the Ritz
by far less exciting, with
Bill Clinton's flirtatious flits
trained pudenda purse
sin null property
of intern (NO FALLACY)
topped as southern delicacy dish
consume mated with buttered grits
pricked prurient peccadilloes licks
suddenly recalling seminal kicks
starting, how with Little Rock kits
he received assistance,
sans starts and fits,
eventually then nubile
ingenue Monica Lewinsky
called time out, cuz at her wits
end once assisting helping
express his "naughty bits,"
when done completing
cum mincecd secrete mission
blue dress draped
expensively furred
(i.e. tricked out) in her
"FAKE" minx hiding
sable animal spirits,
when animal rights
activists vehemently protested
out-coming result
slapping former president
with a PETA file.
~The Unexpected Gift~
There is no wrapping to tear away
No expectations of a gift
No birthday or anniversary today
Nothing expected to give a lift
No favours given and none asked
No unpleasant or overly tiring task
Nothing promised no debt to pay
There seems to be nothing to gainsay
No wrapping paper could bring such delight
Of a gift unexpected such as last night
To find someone has gifted to me
A membership for all to see
What a surprise - nay shock say I
When on PD’s blog my name I did spy
Something about me makes her speak she does say
Lifts my heart and spirits today
So thank you Pd for your unexpected gift
You obviously seem to get my drift
A membership from you to me
The only thing I can say is a big THANK YOU PD
© 20/06/2012 ~GG~
We are winded and on the ropes. Backwater banjo boys
strum against us. Clouds feed upon a shoaling light.
A bad day for going out or staying in.
A time to be sleepless. We must live timidly,
or push deeper into a glaring daylight
toward the drugged dreams of the wide-eyed,
go shopping in the poorer parts of town
seek thrifty ways to survive among the striving,
give all our prayers to the birds; then eat them.
Some say they have heard the sky flap away
but many stuff fingers in their ringing ears
and gainsay both the seen and unseen.
There is no sanctuary in night's lean pantry,
the ransacked are laid bare.
Many pick the pockets of the anxious
rattle catch-penny cans on shoe-strings.
Misgivings trespass, tumble ever inward until
reason becomes the reason to flee.
Paltry inklings gnaw at ever longer nights,
and we wonder what ‘tipping point’ tipped
what lid flipped; what line was crossed
as an ever louder twanging strums on?
No matter the subject or topic
tho' it may burn will I ever learn
would it hurt if my lips were to close
as whatever I submit suggest propose
she will be myopic
nay-say gainsay contradict oppose
may as well hold my breath
as every word I utter
receives the kiss of death
and melts in my mouth like butter
should I assert it's what she does it's her wont
'No I don't,' is her depiction
in contentious rebuttal
thereby confirming my conviction
and morning noon and night
she'd like to be I'll also mention
tho' none too subtle
the epicentre of my attention
is it a female thing or only her compulsion
for at the end of the day
it's not the last word she wants
it's the final say
I HAVE A DREAM™
In Martin Luther King Jr.'s binding words of oath,
Saving souls solely sold out for fair esteem,
Without gainsay, granulating the greatest quote,
Comes these four words "I Have A Dream."4
The marvellous melody of Martin's message,
Mingle minds - with magnanimous meanings,
And just like an age-long and archaic adage,
Mustered majestic march, melding morals.8
Memoirs of Martin's muse mimicked mystery
And his mighty moment moved mountains,
Miraculously merges and made history.
So, in our racial disunity, a united unity reigns.¹²
In the future's fair and fearless frame,
Black boys, white boys, hand in hand.
In unity, under sky's serene same,
Dreams dance daringly to destiny's demand.¹6
Girls of gold and girls of grace,
Gleaming, glowing, & growing together,
Heartbeats harmonize, honour embrace,
Hope's horizon, boundless, forever.²°
No colour confines, no creed can chain,
Tomorrow's truth, in love, we attain.
“I have a dream that one day, little black boys & girls
Will be holding hands with little white boys & girls.”²4
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Alliteration
Copyright ©? January 2024.
The hunger
Horrendous afternoon, breeze chose to be still
Dilapidated hut in the midst of the hill
Frail and fragile sat she at the threshold
Crying baby in lap about an year old
Both wrapped in rags covering their bony frame
Emaciated and starved, whose game to blame?
Small patch of green on which they grew little grain
Fell prey to pests and the failed rain
Her Man had left with a vow to return with food
Three months had elapsed, broken vow for no good
All these days, she with some hope, had waited
With dried tubers and kernels hunger demon satiated
Followed long week leaving empty- stomach, barren- hearth
Devastated she sobbed, Oh! Father, why such a birth?
Famished sans energy whenever she slipped into sleep
Ort and broken bread-crumbs in her dream creep
Rumbled their stomachs like the mighty thunder
Nightmare all day showed this hunger monster......
His cruel voice, she heard him say, hey lady dare not gainsay
You are poverty-struck, helpless, I have shut all your way
He boasted, I am mightier than the prayers and stronger than all power
You better let me feast as I pounce on you both to devour
Imperious demon, I know for sure you won’t spare us, she said
I have failed as a mother to feed my child, I deserve to be dead
Weepy she said, I quit, I feel lost, I feel abandoned, I surrender
And prayed that this world be delivered from the pangs of hunger
Slowly, her child’s cry was embracing deafening silence
Tears kept flowing down, she was feeling fragile and lifeless
All of a sudden, she could see someone walk towards her
Her Man! Timely! words kept! Came like a saviour
Saved his lady and child from the draconian hunger!
©Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak, 2016
Earthen motte mounds and bailey burg
Sludge strongholds severed for siege
Norman castles cut of stone surge
Vowed vassals, the lords of liege
Round refuge tower of ashlar
Lured strums of Celtic cither
While they tend to tiers of mortar
Howling high waters hither
Gemlike blades grassy shades of green
Sailing seas beckon smartly
Hair to partly pare ployed the teen
Pirate Queen awaits Bartley
Homeland hush weave no words but mum
Forum flouters of gainsay
Dark Lady of Doona they hum
Legend of the Blacksod Bay
Fortress chieftain forges her case
Ní Grace unbowed by Bingham
Royalty rises face to face
Let them lie Ó Máille clan
Lyrate luck of her Irish pride
Aside vassal villeins sought
Herstory harmonized resides,
‘pon castles cloaked earthen motte
Burden
Would anyone notice if i were gone,
How long before anyone would come,
What if i just slowly became withdrawn,
This game of chess i am simply a pawn,
Is it easier for them to just ignore me,
Not acknowledge the issues they can see,
Sweep it under the carpet like its dust
Creating a complete persona of mistrust,
No matter how much i hola and scream,
Stop talking nonsense, going to the extreme,
Just pull yourself together they spit in disgust,
Then I am scolded and relentlessly schussed,
If only it were simple a switch to turn off,
To change how i feel, the thoughts to stop,
But the tough love hurts, it makes me kick off,
You say I’m ignorant just an adolescent strop,
But if they would take the time to listen,
The depth of the hurt isn’t easily hidden,
But its easier to just ignore my position,
Than acknowledge I’m an abomination,
How long will i be able to live this way,
Hiding my feelings, slowly fading away,
Trying my damnedest to not ruin there day,
I wish i wasn’t this way, pushing them away.
I don’t want to be the burden i have to be,
I wish they could see what asking does to me,
Grown and helpless without the help i need,
The embarrassment i feel but i have to concede,
Burdening their lives and stealing there time,
The curse of my paradox within my paradigm.
Of course they're courteous when i chastise
When the anger fades i of course alchemise
Aware of the burden i hinder their lives with,
My apologies soon come verbally forthwith,
Of course my actions cause them to be gainsay
All i hope and pray is that i can be saved one day.
No one seemed to take much note at first.
Old-timers on park benches passed a comment or two,
Somebody wrote a letter to the local rag,
but no one (who mattered, that is)
really seemed to mind.
Of course, you will always have
your bellyachers and woolly romantics
with nothing better to do than whine
about the way things are going, -
the loss of bird life, the silenced dawn chorus,
the vanishing English hedgerow,
you know the sort of thing.
The leaves began falling long before autumn.
"Funny," they said, "curious," "that's one for the book."
This was all very interesting for botanists,
environmentalists, chemists and the like.
Such words as "pollution," "soil erosion"
and "deprivation" were bandied about,
but no one was much the wiser though
the experts were agreed on one point.
"Photosynthesis provides the basis of all life."
This was interesting but nothing like
as interesting as the favourite for Ascot,
the football results, the Top of the Pops,
the late night thriller or the FT index.
All that changed.
Foresters and timber merchants became concerned
about the decaying cores of many trees.
The government became concerned, too,
(not so much about the fate of the trees as such
as about the effect the scarcity of wood
was having on the paper industry and inflation).
Then the doom-watchers caught the scent
and there was talk of an imminent ecological collapse,
but the man in the street still
passed it all off as the usual load of rot.
Then Kew Gardens, Epping Forest, Central Park,
the Everglades and the Bois de Boulogne
went the way of all wood.
A tramp, locally known as Nat the Nut,
was found in the village cemetery gibbering,
Before being bundled into an ambulance,
he was heard to say:
"With these very ears I heard 'em groan,
and this is what one of 'em said:
'Tonight we are dying, yew and I,
and the morrow sees us dead.'
And the willows wept in the valleys
and the trees on the hills pined away."
When the harvest failed,
the church bells tolled
for a woe no man could gainsay,
for none doubted then the trees were lost
or held it was only they.
The lights are blaring
The team is playing hard
The stadium rumbles the ground
With movement
...and cheer
Down in the street
The earth moves
With the shattering of windows
And loud cries
...and fear
The crafts are displayed
The tents hold beautiful treasure
Parades tell of wondrous joy
Feelings tingle the tinsel
...and peer
......back
..................and forth
..................................here is too near
The season is here
It is upon is...this very moment
Gifts are being bought
People still planning
...void
The illusion dissipates
At the feet of TRUTH
Idolatry at the heart
We bartered our youth
Children don't need lies
Adults needed entertainment
Gainsay palatable
For the familiar feeling
....cheer
Sweet taste
Bitter digestion
Idol work
Spider infestation
....bluh!
Hope shews forth LOVE
Nothing else will do
Cheer dredged in sickly fear
Equals Holiday stew
Written by Trudy Schrader on 12/15/2021