Long Gamboling Poems
Long Gamboling Poems. Below are the most popular long Gamboling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gamboling poems by poem length and keyword.
Ironclad choke hold tightened
around pencil necked geek
stranglehold noose asphyxiated
courtesy mailer daemon freak
specifically America Online
server gremlin sought out meek
resplendently attired as Doctor sheikh
wordsmith scouted out as weak
cussed link within human league
surprisingly springing thru Lenovo
external screen, simulating sneak
issuing nary soundcloud when tweek
king "FAKE" childish
ploy regarding peek
a boo as preschool prankish charade,
emulating, feigning, gamboling as mystique.
Little did yours truly discern
unsavory fated deaf fete
incorporating cunning linguistic deceit,
whereat innocent naivete scourge did mete
undeserved pummeling thrashed thinker
savagely, sadistically, and sacrificially beat
mastah to bloody pulp frequent visitor
courtesy aforesaid web portal
unexpected encountering
heinous nemesis greet
ting this chap with
suspicious groovy and neat
out of vogue colloquialisms
circa nineteen seventies
dead giveaway handy dandy
blues clues poetic feet
toe tilly tubular (iambic pentameter)
maintaining quite exemplary
skill for Pete
sakes, blindsided,
hoodwinked, outsmarted...
mine acute intuitive
perception, albeit fleet
tin gully as laxative courses
thru lower gastrointestinal
tract analogous to
GoLytely/PEG Solution
preprepatory for gastroenterologist
to ass esse seat
of pants anatomy i.e.
derriere, whether polyps
populate and remove
if necessary tenamount
to separating chaff from wheat,
and if all's well that ends
well patient with sore tuckus,
nonetheless rearing
to experience healthy
gluteus maximus treat
ting him/herself to feast
like gourmand and eat...
dagnabbit blasting impish,
where dark shadows
house outer limits of twilight zone
pestiferous heterosexual binary
bugaboo with chutzpah
nabbed against gangland
style angry bird
twittering parakeet.
Watching three cats
Watching three cats
gamboling along
Looking at me
While I look at them
Each wondering what sort of weird creatures
The other is
And who is the real alien species?
three cats ready to go
three cats
at play
they look out at the world
and they are ready
they are born hunters
they are hungry
they are restless
and they want
to escape
from the house
to chase birds
squirrels
and other cats
That's the cat's life after all
they tolerate us humans
only because we feed them
But at heart
they are wild things
and wild things
need to be free
Looking Out My Window
I look out my window
On the parking lot
And see the mad cat
That lives underneath the apartment house
And look out at the park
Thinking of taking a walk
The cat looks at me
Kindred spirits perhaps
Retired waiting to die
Watching Cats Hunt
Early morning
Watching two white cats
Hunting a white dove
The cats hunt in pairs
Tracking the bird
The bird flies away
Safe for now
And I think about the cats
And the hunt goes on
Such is life
And the fate of cats
And birds
Cats April 19
Cats
I often wonder about Cats
What do they think of us
It seems at time
That cats think of humans
As their slaves
We exist to feed them
To comfort them
To save them from their enemies
And to worship them
Yes cats are an alien species
Totally different from humanity
Detached, and almost evil
If we ever encounter an alien civilization
God help us if it’s a cat based civilization
We would then be engaged
In the epic mother of all wars
As cats and humans would not get along
The cats would think we were their slaves
And we would resent and fear them
And secretly worship their alien ways
Don't you wish, you were,
Free
As to open your arms wide
Pretending they are angels' wings
And take off
From your confined space
To glide over lands and seas
To reach the top of the highest mountain
And to sit there
Still free
Bared and unguarded
To enjoy the sight of clouds
Clouds, trying to communicate with you
Through the images that they convey
And leave to you to decipher!
Don't you just wish, you could
Run and gambol around
On the mountainsides
As free as the deer
Relishing the pleasures of living simply
On grass and water
But being able to enjoy the time available to you
As much as you can
Why, taking the time to smell wild flowers
Laugh and play with peers
And take shelter in caves
When the need arises?
Why, I do wish I were that free
More, I do wish I were free to take
Back my human form
When I would want to
I do wish I could be that which I desire
When I desire
Sometimes gamboling over high mountains
Feeling like I rule the Earth
At other times, bathing in the clear waters of mountain ponds
Feeling like I am as mighty as sea mermaids
And at other times, being superhuman
As to be able to fly above clouds
To meet the guardians of our peaceful existence!
Why, sitting on my chair
And looking out through the window
At the mountain, hovering miles away
I wish, I just wish
I could act as freely as my mind
Wills me to!
For contest Mountains
Written on 9 August 2017
Spring, a time for rejuvenation and rebirth. I’m always thrilled when winter’s white blanket lifts revealing tiny snowdrops, which crane their necks as they peep through the earth. I imagine I can hear the golden trumpets of dainty daffodils and jaunty jonquils heralding that spring is here. On my morning ramble I love to see the little newborn lambs gamboling about in the fields, and watch the blackbirds catching insects mid flight to feed their hungry chicks.
new leaves unfurling
trees dressed in emerald green
buds ready to burst
Springtime Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by M L Kiser
03/11/21
I
one Fine-
morning when the garden was misty-
ethereal the beauty
birds mellifluous
brouhaha loud and donnybrook
a gang came
fluttering over the fence and
canoodled the flowers
sweetly
when the day was infinite serenity
the birds
lilting and murmuring
loud and donnybrook
and buzzingbees were buzzing
from jewel-toned and eye-catching blooms
oh
summer
and
the
sun-kissed
color-infused birdies
loud
and
donnybrook
II
here there
sweet butterflies
breathtaking
gamboling
delicate wings
always a-fluttering
insects
dilly-dally flip-flopping
hummingbirds whirling
a black cat licks
his lips
whiskers twitching
sneaky shifty
lissome fearless hunter
sneak-a-sneak
slithers
woosh watch out hummingbirdie
with your pretty wings
fly away fast
faster and faster
for the cat is a hunter
the cat hunts
the cat
quiet and deadly
go
dancing
hummingbird
hummingbird
turning
twirling
spinning
III
raven hair-tangled girl
gathering daisies
pansies
wildflowers
And drip-dropping petunias
in this sun-drenched garden
stops to gongoozle
and a butterfly drifts-
upon the gathered-blooms
________________________
August 15, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/Garden Rambling
Copyright Protected, ID 16-818-665-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Though her life span was less than a week,
The Pink Lady of Malibu was a glorious sight,
Never to be forgotten by anyone who was lucky enough to see her
The daring escapade spanned six months
Timing her final foray on the cliff to coincide with the full moon
On October 31st, 1966, seemingly overnight
there appeared on the sheer cliff wall
above the Malibu Canyon tunnel
a 60-foot-tall painting of a nude woman
gamboling freely with her black hair flowing behind her
and a fistful of yellow lilies
No one knew who had created this guerrilla artwork
but scandalized Los Angeles County officials
Fearing traffic congestion and looky-loo accidents
They had decided she couldn't stay
House paint and a giant stencil to accomplish the artwork
The paint had soaked into the porous rock
Finding it impossible to remove her
The county ended up covering the Pink Lady in beige paint
Written: August, 22, 2026, for this Week's Poetry Challenge: No Letter E
***************
Autumn walks, a vagabond in gold,
gamboling in gossip,
rinsing last growth
from trunks with song hush.
A crown of ivy and wilt,
a bold tomboy with worn charm,
rushing through cloudlands
as Icarian murmur—
gauzy, mournful, godly.
Calyx cracks,
stalks twist
fronds scour air with art,
all a glyph of adios.
Sky foam grows thick—
gassy, gaudy,
a cosmic curse of color and closure.
Birds hiss through mist
as urging ghosts.
Not an idyll of gods,
a labyrinth of motion,
a slow waltz,
as foolish visions fall into dusk.
Still, in loss of sun's glow, joy stays—
a holy cornucopia of final acts.
A tonic of rot,
a song of parting.
Autumn bows to nobody
a smash of vanity, a pliant mouth of hours,
gamboling past grand norms with talky charm.
At Autumn's call, folks prowl past,
pluck catharsis from vast hush,
sip sap of shift from that odd cup.
Virtual trophies (wife for I)...
offered, husbanded, and collected
when winning solitaire
Nothing beats that exaltant rush of adrenaline
watching the computer generated cards
automatically routed
to their respective suite (spot)
(after they get turned face value up)
generates countenance to evince a grin.
This heart felt diamond in the rough
gamboling ace of a man
learned to call a spade a spade
soon after joining the culture club.
Within an alternate universe
another Matthew Scott Harris
destiny manifested beckoned uber lyft,
his militant doppelganger
(created entirely of antimatter
since birth of universe)
decked out in camouflage fatigues,
dead set on collision course
to annihilate each other
if and/or when we inevitably meet.
No place exists for yours truly
to run and hide
especially hermetically sealing
(while waxing poetic) himself
with booking selfsame mortal
within a read (reed) out hideaway,
hence impossible mission
to ward off sealed fate
lest (markedly) both of us
(even if reaching out
to bridge reconciliation)
blown to smithereens
methinks I and mine nemesis
would be wiped out
(cue the Surfaris song titled wipe out)
as if Thanos snapped.
The aforementioned scenario
far more horrifying than
livingsocial within human zoo
where *****sapiens primates,
an aggregate of many
a cruel genealogical yahoo
outliers rowdy unlearned without xue,
an essential constituent
of the body electric kool aid acid test
smartass who spout colorful retorts
analogous to up the wazoo,
but much more explicit,
therefore audiological
viewer discretion advised
unless one feels confident
to cast a magic spell using voodoo
ideally invoking debilitating, horrifying,
lustrating newt trill eye zing
permanent state of danger
or threat accursed
trumpeting lout can never undo
especially when joker is wild
whereat apparatus tricked out
fastening pollexes courtesy thumbscrews
perchance re-evaluating my person
when crafting image
conveying torturous schlock
after ye did pleasantly review
other writings of mine that did skews
toward humanitarian connectedness
painstakingly minding my peas and queues
wracking my brain
regarding creativity to peruse.
Seraphic phlox in a falling fluorescent flicker
pixie dust was cloaked in a raucous, auspicious.
A leaf of the halo tree, a gem of an airy slicker
My soul is coated with quiet-luring narcissus.
Pixie dust was cloaked in a raucous, auspicious.
flung over stale chatter set in iridescent gloom. .
My soul is coated with quiet-luring Narcissus,
cascading in a confluence of redolent doom.
Flung over stale chatter set in iridescent gloom,
a gamboling glance at the yore library's courtyard.
Cascading in a confluence of redolent doom,
The spirit had shaped the wailing moon in this regard.
A gamboling glance at the yore library's courtyard,
My sentience was unorthodox and yearned to grow.
The spirit had shaped the wailing moon in this regard.
The aurora borealis swelled my sprouting glow.
My sentience was unorthodox and yearned to grow,
a leaf of the halo tree, a gem of an airy slicker.
The aurora borealis swelled my sprouting glow,
Seraphic phlox in a falling fluorescent flicker.
Written: November 25, 2022
Night and day, a thrashing
like an invisible whiptail
surge van hail,
doth swell me bosom
excruciatingly, doggedly blackmail
capriciously be-numbingly,
aggravatingly assail
mine conscience in
what paltry pale
capacity of this gamboling male,
I can "pay forward,"
whatever means shale
be moost apropos avail
to offset bewail
ling (internal psyche doth ale
hankering) against utter
lifetime (mine) peppered
with emotional, physical
and social destitution
bereft, viz fail
ling to maximize inspiration
reverberating as vibrant detail
lacking even justa minimum
desire to live
(visa vis no way
discover ring, nope nar even
"FAKE" king minuscule appeasement
of my body, mind,
and spirit triage during)
hell...shove (shelve) aside
such gloriously noble benighted role,
amidst upending folktale
re: King Arthur and His Knights
of the Round Table
futilely searching for holy grail
where steadfast conviction
emboldens this heart and hale
spirited mindful,
sincere hard drive spurs
(neigh saying horse
sense of mine)
where ambition saddled
to air (dan sing) quailing,
yen propelling (yours truly),
with sincere humanitarian,
(i.e. blood driven)
philanthropic spiritual zeal,
I tried to unveil,
this reasonably rhyming thumbnail
sketch poetically versatile
within this spurious verse despite
any trials undermining travail
rather mine heart felt genuine
motive fueled by impetus
to contribute within e kale
logi, fizzy hollow gee, humanity,
with integrity, magnanimity,
and quality fervency,
while still adept, adroit,
agile, and alert,
(cuz America needs more lerts
to become great again)
ironically steel tougher than nails,
duh pleating ability dovetail
to bug (or wug) gee wholesale.