Long Grouchy Poems
Long Grouchy Poems. Below are the most popular long Grouchy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grouchy poems by poem length and keyword.
The tix are free so people wait
For hours, sitting on the grass,
But we are old; to compensate
There is a bench to plop one’s ass.
By half-past eight, the benches filled,
The ticket-seekers settle in
While late arrivals, not too thrilled,
Allow the side-show to begin.
They make us move so they can squeeze
Their bodies on a proper seat,
Without the courtesy of “Please”
(Ticked-off, no doubt, at their defeat).
A flutist sets his stand and plays;
A grouchy woman bids him cease.
He grumbles when nobody pays,
His music, though, a sweet release.
The conversations ebb and flow.
We people watch (the pickings fine).
I bond with folks I do not know;
That happens on the senior line.
The hours pass; we get our tix.
We’ll meet again when it gets dark
To share in summer’s yearly fix
Of seeing Shakespeare in the Park.
for some reason
around your fortress
you’ve built
insurmountable blockades
and from their safety
you thrive on lashing out
catapulting showers
of fireballs
and cannonballs
it took a while for me
to realize we were at war
I simply didn’t know
in hindsight it’s been going on for years
but I really truly didn’t know
I knew enough to keep my distance
and stay out of the firing range
you’ve always had me
walking on eggshells
why? I haven’t got a clue
after all these years
to tell the truth
somewhere along the way
I simply finally lost interest
so keep doing what you’ve got to do
and I’ll continue
liking you the way you are
the last of eggshell crumbs
have turned to lovely sand
and your fireballs
now look to me
like nothing less
than fireworks display
AP: Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 16, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (JUN 17) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - 1ST PLACE
Sometimes I’m busy and sometimes I’m not.
Sometimes I’m freezing and sometimes I’m hot.
Sometimes I’m hungry and sometimes I’m full.
Sometimes I push, sometimes yield to a pull.
Sometimes I’m wired and sometimes I’m beat.
Sometimes I’m grouchy and sometimes I’m sweet.
Sometimes I’m happy and sometimes depressed.
Sometimes I’m calm and at times I am stressed.
Sometimes I’m quiet and sometimes I’m loud;
Sometimes, embarrassed and other times proud.
Sometime I’m social and sometimes alone.
Sometimes I’m confident, other times thrown.
Sometimes ideas come and sometimes they don’t.
At times I despair but most often I won’t;
But one thing that’s always (not sometimes) is I’m
Quite proficient at molding my thoughts into rhyme.
He ranked as de facto semiprecious,
tremulous and unanimous scapegoat
bullied by a bumptious, callous,
disputatious hippopotamus of a brat
infamous bruiser later in his life to become
forty fifth president of UnIted States.
Though documentation incomplete, the un
named subject referred within torn shred
recovered included signatory couching
ambiguous references to a tenebrous,
unscrupulous, and vicious wiseass initials.
Dee Tee quickly intuitively assessed
as one inhumane specimen, whose pugnacious,
pretentious, and pestiferous, persona characterized
impetuous, adulterous apprenticeship appetite
for erecting phallic skyscrapers.
This once pacific pilloried pupil, whose grown
son (myself), now recalls father's misty eyed
anecdotes dripping with acrimonious, curmudgeonly
grouchy, grizzly and crotchety old sorries,
viz refashioned abominable kamikaze
psychological sorties.
I can vividly recall (how painful unto his old age)
oft daddy's repeated quotidian taunts, whereby
that bad ass, acidulous, avaricious, contemptuous,
enormous, and grievous big boy trumpeting
bruiser exuded devious, heinous, libelous, and
parsimonious tightwad, though born into wealth.
You sure about sitting on a tile roof? Jake asked his cousin Reflection.
Jake was not a risk taker, but they had a connection.
Meet me when the moon is ready, she said and you will feel the cool.
The brick tile roofs in Arizona go down in temperature daily as a rule.
Jake trusted Reflection but he was still a little wobbly about the risk.
He was a persnickety tomcat who swept his messy alley with a whisk.
You will love it, she reassured him. I would not lie about the moon.
He planned his climb up to the roof not one single second too soon.
Reflection was already up there, meowing her heart out in the night.
He climbed up and parked himself beside her; enjoying the moonlight.
Hey! What is all that caterwauling? A neighbor asked in a mean way.
The cousins thought it was funny; he was old Grouchy Mister McMay
There are words that I want to say to the corrupt judges
But I am too civilized and decent to put them on paper
Most judges in this mess have their brain on crutches
They collude with double-dealing lawyers who beg for favor
The system is illogical, arbitrary, unjust, unfair and impartial
Justice once existed in the Bible. These days, lying isn't illegal
Believe it or not, everybody lies in court: the shady counsels
The grouchy judges, the guilty and outrageous plaintiffs
Except the innocent defendants. Great actors tend to be stiff
It's like watching Tartuffe performing in theater of the imbeciles
This is a joke watching these guys faking it all the way to the banks
Performing like legendary actors and like ants who know well the links
Surrounded by body guards who are fully aware of how the system
Works. The accused is guilty until you prove that he/she is innocent
That a heinous or egregious crime was committed. Money is the stem
Of all evils. This is a world where few people are good, fair and decent
Liars wear robes too sometimes. They are disguised like the dancers
Of the Congo bands, instead of holding gavels, they carry deadly torches
Injustice is for sale, the lowest bidder always wins. Yes, there are winners:
The crooked judges, the lying lawyers, the cheaters and the sad mooches.
Copyright © March 2019, Hébert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is a writer in many languages.
The internet is making me mad, taking my energy, causing me sad.
I am so irritated and out of control, I could cry for sure.
The internet has crashed today, and made me terribly mad.
I am so angry, I feel grouchy, mean, and less than pure.
The internet which I did not even know about a few years ago,
is causing me distress, causing me to feel quite low.
The internet has given me so many new friends, as you know.
I have no idea what will happen if he becomes a foe.
He has been my friend in so many ways, lifting me up.
Bringing me friendships who make me happy while I troll and sup.
The internet has crashed at my house today. Sound the alarm.
In person I am doomed to be friendless, for I have no charm.
For a while our mommy got fat
and so grouchy. I didn’t like that!
But early one day
Dad took mommy away.
They came back and her tummy was flat!
In her arms there was something so small
that I barely could see it at all.
I just wanted to hold
it. You’d think it was gold!
They said, “Don’t let your new brother fall.”
You bawled every day with such might
you gave our cat, Felix, a fright.
It was such a great day
When I heard Mommy say,
“The baby now sleeps through the night.”
Your first smile today was for me.
You’re going to be a good buddy.
There’s so much that we’ll do.
Here’s my promise to you:
The best brother ever I’ll be!
By Andrea Dietrich/ April 28, 2011
For Miranda Lambert's Contest:
"Brotherly Love"
The lone wolf was in a grouchy, grumpy, hungry mood
Snow rabbits were much faster than he remembered
He studied their hop slides in the frosty snow
These rabbit's foot marks were diminishing as he studied them
When did rabbits get so fast? He asked his wife.
Her distaff side of the family would have laughed at this.
Female wolves are better hunters, and they all knew it.
Lone wolf had a let's-save-face epiphany.
Maybe the rabbits let you catch them, he suggested.
His mate gave him a slow side look. She knew better.
The waning footsteps sparkled like rhinestones in the moonlight.
I hunt better in the spring, he told his wife, convincing no one.
I raised a baby lion
He was cute and he was fine.
He ate meat, and no potatoes,
I was the only one he’d mind
My husband left quite swiftly
In the middle of a day
After he and Lenny Lion wrestled,
He was scared, and straight away.
Lenny’s favorite was raw meat.
Cooked, absolutely not.
He liked it fresh and tender
And not the stuff I bought.
The mailman was grouchy,
The mailman was late.
I lost my silly temper,
And I served him on a plate.
I lured over the cute neighbor
The one who did me wrong
Lenny finished her at breakfast,
Spitting out her thong
People were suspicious
They stopped coming to the house,
Anyway, I thought they did,
But Lenny was no mouse
His appetite got bigger,
It was hard to parade them in.
He started getting hungry
And his tummy seemed quite thin
He is sitting in the kitchen,
Waiting for a snack.
I am creeping out my window,
There is no time to pack.