Long Goofing Poems
Long Goofing Poems. Below are the most popular long Goofing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Goofing poems by poem length and keyword.
Devoid of old qualms and ruing sigh
Wing your arc for purer stratum high,
Past's mortal morsels I urge forsake
For dainty victuals sage angels take.
As mighty Retribution's brooms sweep
Away avarices that now huddled weep,
Your best plume beyond trite ethers ply
Into loftier climes where finer eagles fly.
Viral cloud your heaven-sent comrade is
If you’ll hit hardest with no goofing miss,
And task your swiftest flappers out of Old
Woods into pristine joys of the New World.
Eternal Kindness her illuminator holds
To undim cumuli's ill-bivouacked folds,
And Divine Treasury total expense pays
Till the last of your wise-wayfaring days.
Soar whilst sagest angels' soirée lasts,
As fierce Retribution's viral cloud casts
Nebulous guiles to outsmart hardy foes,
And Kindness her aiding flickers throws.
What you talking about Mister?
He asked after the man
said "Sea Her F". C+ Sea
Her + the woamn
F is F!
Chef man it's a joke.
That aint something worth
laughing over. What you want me
to say man: Sea he F?
We See oh, oh Kay!
Shout your mouth
and clean under the table.
I heard they were having
Seudoughmankie..You might
have over heard them speaking
but I know damn well you
weren't included
in such conversation.
Get the broom or the mop
and get back to work.
Why are you smiling : you think
it's funny don't you> Mister Waurttir
would like to hear about you
goofing around,
sir what is your name.
My name is Du Talon "Chef extraordinaire"
You had me going Mister Talon:
ah I mean Chef Du Talon!
I apoligize for the mix up!
I did that man joking around:
my wife told me I played around to much
that's why they booted me outta the
theather< I once was a
theatrical marvel,
the gift of music aand song!
Wanna hear me sing?
It's been so long since I last walked in the rain,
The last I remember was when I was back in high school,
Getting off the school bus, goofing around with friends,
And purposely leaving the umbrella inside our bags,
Since, the feel of rain on our skin was so refreshing
And the threat of a flu that very night seemed so right!
Walking today in the flowing dirty water, letting the raindrops
Invade me from all sides, allowed me to evoke those memories,
Those memories of a time when I thought I would always be
Young and strong enough to conquer the world and its toils!
Yet, as the raindrops fall on the ground, slide off and are
Never to be seen again, so did my young and bubbly days!
The mistakes I made, I regret them not, after all, I became
A stoic adult thanks to them!
The explorations of life that I did undertake, I regret them not
As well, as again, I had to be today a somewhat experienced adult!
My only regrets are those daring choices, those actions which I hesitated
To turn to, simply because I was so scared to make my voice heard!
Now, those raindrops bid me to focus on the upilfting of my enlightenment.
Pray, life is as it is, everchanging, it is up to us to enjoy its present moment!
Mama bear pins up clothes on the line.
April day is wonderful, breeze is so fine.
Grandma is in the kitchen, tasting vinegar wine.
Children and husband are waiting to dine.
Little brother is doing a chicken dance goofing off.
Siblings are laughing, observant deer gives a cough.
Daddy brings a compliment, he is no sloth.
Best day in the spring, according to gossip McGoff.
I linger in my bee hive watching the bear family.
They appear as normal as any bear family can be.
I love watching their excitement from my dangling hive from the tree.
No one has any idea all of the activity this bee can see.
(Inveniam viam)
Far beyond these eerie things, where limits have no scales
Fish are replacing gills, with turbine aerated tails
Sea level’s losing all meaning, for the humpback whales
Ships piggyback them, harpoons syphon wind from their sails
Today I woke up early, lately I’ve let dreams flow
Into an abstract yonder, where visions often go
A wave came over me, up from my downy pillow
When tidal forces passed away, many moons ago
As the ocean waved goodbye, I called for an encore
Behaving like a poultice, the beach drew back old gore
You could’ve bowled me over, sent ripples to my core
Never again I’d sleep soundly, near this bloody shore
After a fretful lie-on, facing truths with each turn
My sundial running on empty, stars can’t always churn
Moribund in dimness, til an old spark can return
Reigniting glory days, (let supernovae burn)
Overhead the vacuum grows, just to make more space
Stretching my dysmorphia, to align with gods face
No one knows for certain, who enhanced his human race
Gave an artful hand, outsmarting evolution’s pace
As life spirals forward, in a world out of control
Entropy dismantles, stripping back our maker’s role
The poet in me keeps goofing, digging deeper holes
He’s a junkie rhymester, overdosing on this soul
So hail all billionaires, who never walk down my street
Flying above fake cripples, with power in their feet
Prodigies of bad and worse, scheming to make ends meet
Leaves an aftertaste of smugness, one that will repeat
As for those big questions, some take a straightforward twist
Two things I thought might go away, stubbornly exist
Not death or taxes, I’m already over that list
Each day I arise, how come lies and bullsh!t persist?
First there was oblivion, til I woke up and saw
Now fully awake, dead ahead looms a fatal flaw
But so long as I can dream, and able to guffaw
It only hurts when I laugh, Don’t you think? vents my jaw
By David Kavanagh
Hms
The tip of a finger, barely touching ulcerated skin
Chamfered ache of reason, or finely balanced whim
Forced through a reality, where spoons become bent
Into the pleasure dome, they inject gaseous cement
Climbing on rope ladders, spiraling around a kite
Wrestling fallen angels, fighting dirty feel them bite
Lost all my inhibitions, its so embarrassing to say
Oscillating and twitching, surreal pictures portray
Sensing victory I keep goofing, running out of time
Finish line is furious, for committing such crimes
Living with rules is for suckers, I’m partial to a kiss
Goalposts keep changing, guess it’s worth the risk
Haphazard directions, circumnavigating the void
I’m delirious anyway, eventually all life is destroyed
Chasing weird dreams, in this semiconscious state
Staring blank at the ceiling, while my agony abates
At last the heavens open, broken arrow was called
O God it’s beautiful, cascading insouciance befalls
Forensics tend to differ, I’ve probably gone insane
Don’t care anymore, cos these drugs numb my pain
Writing Prompt - Ache - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
24/04/2021
Some perhaps more fortunate poets will
With greater ease urge their heeding quill,
To tell in switching tones many juicy tales,
Of love-aided treks and shipwrecked sails.
Not so for this goofing lyricist whose
Heart-felt lays Muse hesitates to aid.
His adequately regaling yarns refuse
To relay accounts by raw feeling said.
While true impulse says song is sweet,
His loth pen lies that such ditties cheat
The listening heart with strange sights,
With fake ideals set on fictious heights.
Although unsullied emotion colors love
As that rare thing that it has often been,
His pabulum lines mar it with banal ink,
Cladding in dross the slick gold unseen.
The blundering odist displays want of skill,
But let his themes not lose their latent thrill.
twenty years of friendship no more. one of the best people in the world is gone. All she can do now is try to remember the good memories like how they use talk about visiting each other goofing around teasing each other about bad haircuts and their grade school days. But now he is gone, and her heart is in two. Who is going to tell her that she is crazy and remember the good times with? no matter how much she tries the brown eye girl can't stop crying. the pain is too much to ignore. all there is left are some old pictures and priceless memories of the perfect best friend a person can ask for.
It was her kitchen, her family, and my newly-married man, and I aimed to please her by properly being fed.
With a smile and a swish, “We have butterscotch pudding pie for dessert!” My brand spanking new mother-in-law said.
Her excitement had no knowledge of the instant memory of horribleness that leaped instantly to my own quickly confused head.
I tried to take an invisible pretend bite while the family all watched, eagerly waiting but my traitorous mouth played dead.
Tears filled my eyes, as I was unnaturally smothered with the sad, angry hurt of my long-ago favorite butterscotch pie.
The feelings came so damned fast, I could not stop them at all or even slow them down, and they surrounded me, and made me cry.
When I was eleven, my family of origin was in the kitchen, laughing, and playing, and goofing around.
When the phone rang, I was asked to get it, because it was wire-attached to the wall, and I was the closest to the retched sound.
I had never heard my mother wail or keen until that day, certainly never heard her yell, “DICK!” or fall without any game to play.
Our big Dad jumped up faster than we had ever seen, grabbed rag-doll Mom before she hit the kitchen counter in a not so great way.
We all turned pure white, which was odd because we were usually pink. Fascinated, yet, hungry, I took my first bite, and heard the words “Mom is dead, and Dad’s dead too.”
We kids started shaking, sad and scared. Grandma and Grandpa were our king and queen. When things calmed down in a second or two that damned butterscotch pie tasted like glue.
Everyone wailed wild-eyed, faces red. The cousins came, and we huddled together and cried and screamed how great it was sob, sob, that they both went to heaven.
Yes, I know that was many years ago but when my feelings took my body over loud and clear, they clamped my mouth tightly shut, because I was back to 11.
Inside of our embryonic bubble,
immune from outsiders trouble
Blissfully detached, so unaware
without any single, worldly care
Permanent ecstatic, numb state
contented, equilibrious, sedate
Seemingly impossible, extreme
I can barely, realize in a dream
Perhaps zoned out, on cocaine
goofing off, to Nirvana’s Cobain
Serotonin’s, absolutely buzzing
my perfect lover, she’s stunning
Is this just being, self centered
never have to run, take shelter
Am I the only one, of this kind
perhaps, have a one track mind
Unable to think, beyond today
godless aberration, in disarray
Helping out others, feeling used
giving to charity, getting abused
Being judged, pretend neighbors
giving service, looking for favors
Lock me up, in a heavenly tomb
like it was, inside mothers womb
Good intentions, bring confusion
everyone wants, easiest solution
Do no bad or good, its the same
agnostic, but that’s just a name
Put all this together, and add up
joyous poem, or equally corrupt.
Inspired by, but not for, Unseen
seekers (joy continuum contest)
By David Kavanagh