Long Gloats Poems
Long Gloats Poems. Below are the most popular long Gloats by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gloats poems by poem length and keyword.
Cancel Culture, Black Lives Matter,
Me too movement, Gay rights too,
Social media so much chatter
Have a gripe, just join the queue.
Pro-choice stalwarts, pro-life hawks,
Farm to table, Save the earth,
A world of slogans, countless squawks
A new cause daily sees it's birth.
Sound bites matter, the Media gloats,
Politicians scramble to take the stage,
Armed with purpose and ready quotes.
Often glib and rarely sage.
Where is reason, quiet thought.
Before action and verbal storm,
Popularity not earned but bought,
Measured now by Twitter swarm.
And as to us the silent mass
Forging lives amidst this din,
As we wade through this morass
To crack a smile is no great sin.
An old moral of the sea
Is avoid that siren's song,
Look away and simply be,
Then far less may just go wrong.
The Whos down in Who-ville have no reason to dread
The fake skinny Santa wearing a coat colored blood red.
They sleep soundly, delighting that tomorrow is Christmas Day.
One tiny Who, Cindy Lou, comes up to fake Santa to Say,
“What you doing? I need a drink, Mr. Santy Claus!
He jumps back in horror, putting up his Grinch-like claws.
He puts her to bed with a lovely pat on her head, fancy—free
Then he steals all their presents, and takes their beautiful tree.
He is angry at Christmas, for it humiliated him once upon a time.
He goes house to house, taking all he can get, stealing everyone blind.
His sack gets bigger and bigger, and he gloats as all through the night,
He takes all the ornaments and gifts from Who-ville, even their lights.
As he is starting up Mount Crumpit to dump all of their things
He hears the Who’s come to the town square, and all of them begin to sing!
His heart grows to three sizes, as he hears those happy sounding Whos.
With the strength of ten grinches, he grabs the sleigh he is about to lose.
With a flourish he and his reindeer-antlered dog, Max, decide to save the day.
They head down to Who-ville, and I mean right away.
To his delight, no one is singing “You’re mean one, Mr. Grinch.”
He stops the sleigh next to Sally O’Malley, her admiration a cinch.
Cindy Lou Who yells “There is Santy Claus Now!”
He is photographed with her; their shoot a big wow.
The town gives him a medal and brings in a band.
He is regaled a hero that day in Whoville-land.
Militant anti immigrant riots by those who love foreign diets inspired by Patrick's (a Nairobi squire & Obi One Kenobi of Satire) "the Flavour Crisis" in the Guardian..
Our saviour from v(ice) some spice and flavour
For Blighty to finally be fancy free and mighty
We must stop dastardly.. bastardly behaviour
Bold in vogue rogues in brogues who're flighty
Britain ain’t as cold as the fold in Scandinavia
Savour cultural gold or it will be nighty nighty
Rascal perky castle floats in quirky murky moats
Nobody notes same gory story just Tory turncoats
Glory gloats as caning boats is still gaining votes
Knaves & slaves sent to their graves scapegoats
Nigel Farage tribal bible barrage sowing his oats
Baiting bigots hating spigots come on do us a favour
Have a go at a hijab then go have a kebab is a worry
Flurry of slurry raves at their quarry pivots craves curry
Shady reformer berk digs jerk go beserk at lady burkha
Has a go at Gurhka worker making his korma say sorry
Fears that it took 60 years to pick ethnic peers on Corrie
If only their morals like their palate whet was bit braver
Tease about it’s a breeze ease of Chinese if in a hurry
No takeaway waiver unless more a Quaver than raver
Don’t be hasty most things tasty the same wheeze
Places with traces of other races & faces do choose
No quips please about fish and chips is Portuguese
Although clues in London dish introduced by Jews
On our knees seeing trees not the wood our disease
Not just pasty views need other hues cultural engraver
Colour cascades with brood of shades or mood is duller
No blot of the don't give a jot lot be a melting pot bather
Britain’s future paver.. tutor & life saver could be FLAVA
She sneaks into town
In the middle of the night;
Sets up before daybreak.
Her colors blind the town square.
Her barkers have games set up before the crowd arrives.
Her fantastic rides take two tickets;
Most kids lament they only have ten.
Some get replenished by their parents.
Others do not.
She smiles as she hears the two-year olds
screeching with delight on her multi-painted ponies.
She gloats that the mommies and daddies are willing to
stay in line for an hour.
The joy she brings is unparalleled; her bosom swells
with the knowledge that her enthusiasm has turned yet
another small middle earth town upside down.
She knows the inhabitants all look forward to her hot,
salted pretzels and cotton candy and depend upon her every year.
There are bicycle parades, and floats to honor her arrival.
She lures them into her tents, where they see crazy, unexpected miracles.
These folk talk about her for a whole year, glorying in being
held upside down for what seemed like hours snapped tightly
in one of her two ha-ha terrifying roller coasters,
Expounding on tales gleaned from her bowels.
She sneaks out as quietly as she sneaked in.
Taking her joy and colors with her, hoping to
be back another year.
Written 12/02/2018 Contest: Early December 2018
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Sense true story in micro tale,
Set sights surely on profound sale.
Word signage cites how feelings move,
Draft in fond write strides sensuous grooves.
Thought winging here tells many things,
Deep fine thinking mellows warm fling.
Stop, start and grind and polish change,
Wear frame of mind with ample range.
Words come alive with clear meaning,
Sift as you strife to reap feeling.
Moments now moot that fragrance fine,
Word sculptures root as message lines.
The story sparks an inner boost,
A tale now marks a concrete roost.
Words now breathe life to journey quest,
To dare arrive stray echoes fest.
Jazzy feel floats upon these shores,
Poise of voice gloats to channel more.
Each rise and fall of vested words
Spill sweet and gall of poise and berth.
Tell in words brief of poignant fest,
Stitch joy and grief with precious quest.
Leon Enriquez
06 February 2017
Singapore
Continental Shelf with its Continental Slope
If the Antarctic Ice Shelf melts
Continental Shelf gloats.
If its near flat land, it will gain on thee
As it extends its flow, we will never gain you see
Our seas will rise, as the ocean floors deepen
This heavenly land will become its seeking.
With the flood plains finally left on the shelf
Our mountains will become, small hill like elf's
Not so giant as in their day
Many will look like Tor's, in many a Bay.
If Global warming, is its result
Our Populi need to stand up and shout
If not for us, but our Children's generation
The powers that be, have to stand to attention.
Solar Variation, Greenhouse Effect
Two processes, Governments have to reflect
Carbon emission's, Ozone layer
Were probably all at fault, not earthly players.
One day we may look back, and wonder why
Too ignorant too talk, or just too shy
But will we have the guts
To look our planet in the eye.
Kate stared out the window as the snow fell,
singing “Frosty the Snowman” very well
She walked to the isthmus,
thinking about Christmas
Kate played “Jingle Bells” with a shiny bell.
She spotted a sled in wanted to ride,
nervous looking ahead as she down slide
“Winter Fairy land” heard playing,
with joy as she was slaying
She enjoyed the sled bells jingle with pride.
Her cousins came over with their new toys
Her mom trimming the Christmas tree with boys
Mom singing “ho ho ho” clear
We were like “no no no” dear
Everyone laughing loud echoes loud noise.
Kate feeling jealous of her cousins gifts
Wonders if Santa Claus got to her lists
Elves stood in her room with bags
Kate face showed the brags
Gloats gifts with joy, noticed in the mists.
A Badge and a Gun
A gun and a badge makes you macho and brave
A chain and a whip makes another a slave
The past can’t be forgotten as much as we try
Two hundred years on and people still cry
Ask yourself why you do, just what you do?
Punch the innocent who stand in front of you
Instead of being the person for what you are paid
You taunt and hurt and shoot and degrade
You have the badge and it gives you the right
To arrest the guilty and we understand your plight
But there’s bad apples in the barrel of every gun
And you stand and you aim, hoping they’ll run
Your allegiance is noted, the president smiles and gloats
Hides in his bunker, while a sycophant takes notes
In your ivory tower, with your thoughts and your tweets
While your mistakes and crimes, hide under white sheets.
David cox 05/06/20
Fondle fine flame
Nurture nice name
Speak sultry sway
Wise words work way
Feel fragrance free
Sanguine sight sees
Dream dizzy dance
Cheer crazy chance
Feisty form floats
Guilty gaze gloats
Niche naughty nice
Seize sizzling spice
Big blossoms blind
Know keepsakes kind
Watch wonder walk
Subtle sounds stalk
Think touching thoughts
Ply poignant plot
Chase curvy craze
Dance distant daze
Mind motions mull
Cream crafty cull
Looks lifting loft
Stillness sounds soft
Soul slumber sweeps
Daze dazzles deep
Dance deep delight
Sense sublime sights
Leon Enriquez
29 June 2016
Singapore
That's the Venice door showered with beauty!
Where loneliness is daily on duty,
By its side, a small pool just sailed two boats,
The occupants are most probably ghosts,
If they're humans, they must be real cuties.
First I saw of this was in Djibouti,
But that was left decrepit and sooty,
So, for elegance that beauty denotes;
That's the Venice door!
The decorations are made quite pretty,
It's like from a last century movie,
Flowers even near the pool that boat floats,
It's the clean surrounding that makes wealth gloats,
Stamps of opulence colors it pretty,
That's the Venice door!