Long Gung ho Poems
Long Gung ho Poems. Below are the most popular long Gung ho by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gung ho poems by poem length and keyword.
What formerly got celebrated as adventitious age of exploration...
1492 unleashed, jump/
kick started, and downloaded
a bittorrent götterdämmerung
spelling genocide of indigenous peoples
occupying Turtle Island,
now surviving tribes
just a shell of their former grandeur.
At present Columbus day
linkedin with high dudgeon
courtesy scattered remnants
of once proud nations
occupying contiguous United States
plus calling Alaska and Hawaii
their happy hunting grounds,
enshrine actual or mythologized
spectacular pièce de résistance
instances when counting coup.
I recollect needing to know
scores of years ago
when a student attending grade schools
within Lower Providence District
as an important bit of information
contributing to (white washed) history
of western civilization
(and never forgot)
recalling the names Nina, Pinta,
and Santa Maria associated
with heroic measures undertaken
by Cristóbal Colón,
(but also been referred to,
by himself and others, as Christoual,
Christovam, Christofferus de Colombo,
and even Xpoual de Colón)
five hundred and thirty years ago,
who purportedly "discovered"
the Americas, when in
fact native occupants of the land
already dwelled upon
the then island paradises.
He/him and subsequent swashbuckling
gung-ho high spirited men
set sail across expanse of ocean(s)
exhibiting eager intent to claim
untrammeled storied quintessentially
opulently magnificent kingdoms
intoxicating greedy Europeans.
Blatant exploitation inexorably nudged
courtesy trickery vis a vis hook and crook
to grab good & plenty treats
forcibly wrested by violence
sabotaging the delicate webbed wide world
constituting millenniums of heavenly bliss,
where marauders wantonly ransacked
indeed lacking absolute zero selflessness
forcing diverse autochthonous nations
to acquiesce and surrender
ancestral grounds to aggressive, coercive
and offensive Europeans hell bent
to populate occupied territory
commandeering, humiliating, manhandling,
poisoning, subdividing, triangulating
every square inch
encompassing fruitful grand home
of rightful heirs to stolen
near boundless tracts
eventually hashtagging uncharted
pristine green acres
spanning from sea to shining sea
becoming commercial real estate
falsely claiming a haven
housing home of the free
land of the brave.
"Going All Bruce Lee"
It’s like holding water
in your hands.
they say, be like water
as if on the drop,
the turn of H20 on tap,
one can go all Bruce Lee.
he was rather gung-ho;
but the subliminal message
he projected, without malice
in his lithe fluidity
brought on dreamy visions
of going all soft
and compliant.
one might say
malleable,
with the flow.
water has its hard moments
like when it turns to ice.
frozen in cold
abrupt moments.
I read a poet, tonight,
she says,
“consciousness swims slick
outside my fingers,
trembling perceptions
pure and round.
Infinitely slow
I close my grip,
entrapping and watch
them drown”.
I felt that.
I felt that.
Memories of what was
solid once, drift down
with the heaviness of time,
weight sinking through the
lightness of water.
Sun shines
through water.
it touches
the top to mid-section
doesn't mean it rhymes
in time with
what is beautiful
and poetic. Sometimes
the beauty lies, ugly,
at the bottom,
covered in silt.
drowned.
you know what I mean.
I know you know
what I mean.
Sunshine never
touches that place.
but treasure and
objects of beauty
lie there, waiting to be found.
the silt residing
with sunken treasure,
that which also lies
with car wrecks, sifting
rotting useless tenure,
carries residual essence.
there is found forgotten
moments of beauty and
pleasure in the discarded
flotsam and jetsam
washed up on a shore,
like memories
begging to be gripped
in palms that want
to be read. it aint shiny and new.
shells held to an ear,
there is message
in the sound;
we are just, content
with the mystery of it all.
"Empty your mind.
Be formless, shapeless,
like water.
You put water into a cup,
it becomes the cup."
Me and drowned
Bruce Lee, in the end
floating memories.
war came in like
a flood, no ark
nor shipped
platform to be
saved.
Memories dissolve
like aspirin.
We swallow
all we love
and understand,
the meaning of it all
hits us on review.
eventually,
we float
immortal
into other worlds
on the next tsunami.
dry bed
or wet,
we sink, we rise,
we float away
into other worlds.
we accept
the contract.
we ride the next wave.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Twas fortnight before inspection 2021...,
Not a human creature stirred, nor seen
throughout Highland Manor,
property carpeted in lush green
gently hilly terrain,
(a deathlike stillness descended un keen
quiet and quite cool April 26th,
deux thousand twenty one).
Vicious rumors circulate wrenching
hammering, and drilling psyche
where mailer demons invade,
that immediate hell fire enfilade
natural hair color made
gray follicular shocks amply pervade
instantaneously turning
Janus faced with Machiavellian
mean streak inlaid
(how word some would say)
"stern", any previous
housewarming aura
experiencing welcome spiel,
nor iota of politesse present,
but Trumpeting her entourage,
asper self important capering escapade
taskmaster known to abrade
even the most stalwart macho,
gung-ho, brave heart appear afraid,
thus oft time tis most
advantageous and optimal
prospective mutineers betrayed
Princess Ja***n Ge***r
harridan de jure ushering tirade
akin to a petit grand mal one
woman banshee masquerade
hoop puts on be preyed
upon switching pretentious airs
dead ringer give
away (immediately
points gnarled finger
sentenced to clinker visage),
non verbal charade
hence unstoppable mounting
anticipatory anxiety manifests
as disabling, impending,
oppressing fate
cannot be delayed
if insubordinate tenants
try with futility to evade
officials with truncheons flayed
doth rarely give surcease
renters passing grade
she, the consummate
de facto grande heiress
of Gr***e & Qu**e
inherited plum deal,
where lifetime employment,
and generously paid
analogous as born
(that way) portrayed
maintaining poker face
into royalty made,
now as single mother
to biracial heir
purportedly inhabits castle
abode with parents,
thus no child
care costs paid
expectant heavy foot
falls getting louder,
(oh...no that jist
my heart pounding
whence approaching raid
so please inform this jade
did troubadour if privy to let
(me and the missus) aid
i.e. a safe and sound
place to call home
with this hole in the poetry wall,
I would immediately
make thee a fair trade
in lieu of living, where
mercilessness doth parade
expenses property upkeep,
teaching (two
door ring) English,
or even employed
as a mister minute maid.
Alright have to admit that whole drole Bazball or Baz Bat cool cat vibe…rabbit out of hat tribe.. is taking its toll..sunk in a hole..losing it’s goal and soul..not being a vitriol troll..maybe need to mull over a cull of this rigmarole..
Can’t pretend..is the end of this spangly jangly new fangled trend…nothing off the shelf…just express yourself…won’t spank you..will almost thank you.. if you tank…bonkers fools rules you can’t bend…must always go stonkers.. all cool no old school…when you shan't defend and depend on a blend of soft conkers and tracks to conquer..
Let’s explain there are many ways to play and entertain…the lotto of the Baz grotto..no dull lulls …no more bore score draws…one motto…just high octane insane where seemingly the sole means to control is a flat track that blunts and shunts how every attack does bowl..
I know..have already banged on..had a go at the pitches…feather beds so flat you can bat gung ho heave ho from the get go.. no wear and tear..glitches or hitches.. despair to stop the flair.. no real movement in the air or off the square..the Bazball pest…Bazbat conquest..effectively saying no we won’t be surfing the crest of a true test contest of willow and leather..hey ho nonny no…to the real deal Test fest..tally ho..
No pretension..apprehension of the lacking dimensions and few mentions of the best Test tensions..
Also must rebuke how they have turned the duke ball from a serious nuke which would spook.. enthrall..now reliant on a cherry that gets so soft you need a fluke ..well Dukes will be compliant as England’s their biggest client…we saw our copper haired laird no longer..stronger defiant..again came a cropper..and this was hardly a proper whopper green topper..
It seems kitsch Bazball rule needily greedily avoids any glitches or hitches in batter’s riches which in turn.. does spurn and bewitches merchants of seams and stitches..
Well it can be dicey to make your tracks at home too spicy..get in a lather…at the palaver as runs become rather pricey..when you could goad..milk that ilk as you explode on a silk road..
Our selector trifecta…the three wise men..Baz..Bob and Ben.. know if there is no speedster thuggery… no Geoffrey jaffas…bunsen spin skulduggery..they will be the gaffers with some Bazball muggery..
Thralldom etched in *****sapiens (mine) DNA
Though your true blue stated civilian
never enlisted nor impressed,
nonetheless I own an opinion
originally embarked on poetic quest
to express purposelessness,
when soldiers rest
at peace i.e. eternally,
many attired courtesy
smart uniform strong with zest.
Psyche steeped, macerated, brewed
as token scapegoat, cue
trumpets Don to toot
courtesy more'n one
nasty shortish brute
weasley chastened me
round mulberry bush
said monkeys chased scaredy
cat me... point moot
regarding... rung me
ragged standing astute
adjacent Thomas Jonathan
"Stonewall" Jackson
(Confederate general during
American Civil War),
his own troops accidentally
fired on him during
Battle of Chancellorsville
in Virginia doth not compute
"friendly fire" unleashed during
one among many hot pursuit
part and parcel of wars,
since time immemorial
gung ho practiced soldier and/or
scared cat neophyte unwittingly shoot
pellets traveling speed of
sound bullet out - gunmetal chute
ordinarily pardoned distinct mistake
versus homicide statute
nonetheless...about
thee (rhetorical question), wherefore
art thou purpose to war,
those slain now paid tribute
since major hostilities of
World War I formally
ended at 11th hour of 11th
day of 11th month of 1918
yet... I question military conflicts
battle hymns constitute
legacy e'er since Homo
sapiens stood erect,
many soldiers of misfortune,
sons of destitute
versus wealthy heirs accepted perception
that war was "a rich man's war
and a poor man's fight"
countless generations ago
deserters fate would mean execute
"the bastard," even second decade
into twenty first century
once sworn in at basic training,
getting discharged (vodka luck), but absolute
zero tolerance quitting before
duty commitment desertion flagrant violation,
no easy task leaving service minus
tribunal meeting severe to prosecute,
thus joining military unlike
accepting any other job
punishment greater than Das boot,
yet patriotism, née jingoism
not ideal, viz conflict resolution,
verstehen, or did this wordsmith convolute?
Twas a dark knight,
whence there came a pawn the hushed crowded movie house
A phantom of horror sprung out of the rookery that wrought deadly havoc
Renting asunder innocent audience members
Anticipating Batman annihilate evil within Manichean eternal duel
Extant within imaginary world of Gotham portrayed on the silver screen
When out of the black curtained theater tear gas canisters got hurled pell mell
Accompanied by a fusillade of heavy machine gun fire
Sheering many lives
Many in the prime ascent sans parabola of adulthood
The youngest, a six-year-old girl transformed into an ashen colored corpse
Which death yet revealed to her young mother
Critically wounded, and clamoring for said daughter
While teetering on the brink of mortality
Oblivious to stricken offspring
While family, friends, relatives and anonymous prayers
And this heartfelt genuine communiqué
From me – a self styled nonestablishmentarian
Gung-ho to invoke a mandate that high powered fire-arms
Must be much less accessible
I.e. bulletproof laws need implementation pronto
So inhabitants of these United States do not fear for their lives
Nor feel akin to a potential prey sighted in the crosshairs
Wantonly gunned down from some grinning joker
Slaking glee from mass killing as to appease unquenchable thirst
To avenge some psychotic nemesis gloating to slay
With a vengeance and contrived vendetta
Promulgating pandemonium and grisly bloody aftermath
Yet despite such horrific heinous atrocity
Bravery and sacrifice witnessed and extolled
From heroic instinctual motive to offer themselves as human shield
So that carnage less devastating than toll on madman’s hit list
Now in solitary confinement and even if executed
Would be a Pyrrhic salve to those forever deprived of loved ones
Burning with an eternal sorrow no matter
Generosity of cyber sympathizers across World Wide Web
Plus the president of these United States
Reach out showering kindness analogous to Borealis raiment!
Form:
Michelin star cricketing cook…by hook or crook.. so canny..will find every nook and cranny…if you took a look at the record..score or text book ..won’t have forsook ..our dutiful..beautiful babbling Brook
Although the barmy army might suggest this almighty Blighty Test best..is more like an umami tsunami..
Bravissimo heave ho machismo..top grade…gung ho pyro Tyke tyro.. renegade hand grenade.. Bowlers afraid.. dismayed..slayed and flayed..somehow right now kapow..but also retrograde..
Boisterous babbling brook…a silky blade…gorged.. slices through a dappled glade..forged..handmade..the republic of Yorkshire conveyed and displayed
Stands so tall…enthrall with his gall.. like Jaiswal…towering…flowering overpowering..glowering…never cowering ... .just run showering..
Us all believers.. that larruping levers.. panache dashers rule…fielders does tease..
Shirty..become go fetch receivers..flash or is it dirty Harry..360 degrees wheeze with such ease..
What a way to play…with that hint and glint of Clint ..Please ..go on funk punk.. make my day
Not the most erudite but when it comes to timber tickles…willow wizardry….no luddite… will ignite… when things get dark and stark… Harry will be that spark..shining bright delight..having a lark out on the park..
Our sumptuous Aurora explorer…humming run sorcery scorer..tropic kaleidoscopic hues..rambunctious strumming the spectrum with his plectrum..woos queues with verdant voluptuous views
Many a sage would rage..even those on the other side of the Ribble.. wouldn’t quibble or contest..knows..the latest of those white rose heroes..is the Test best of the new age..
A pest..blessed with zest from the Yorky conquest treasure chest....won’t wain and never in vain…slain by Brook’s insane high octane rampage..gets us off the hook again…
Can’t cage..does entertain…on the ultimate stage..his disdain like heavy rain…no refuge from the deluge..babbling Brook subterfuge..floods the back page once again..
Across the Atlantic ocean
They have a pedantic notion
Quip us Brits have a frantic lisp
Did slip..meant to say chip not crisp
Semantic antics causing a commotion
Misunderstand our land’s devotion
To the sensory explosion that is a crisp
So why the linguistic demotion
Respond to across the pond & beyond
Have donned a wig of blonde
Seem fond of being conned
They need to be told
The reason Brits abscond from the fold
Will break the mould
Skip this blip and let rip
A chip is hot and if not.. is cold
Such umami gold is actually factually
A crisp!
Our gung ho American foe
Will still crow..slimy Limeys
We’re the aficionado…so no bravado
Must surely know a chip is always
Made I’m afraid of purely potato
(unless I guess if its chips at a casino)
Displayed for trips in dips
Not just crud dud spud chips
Bud..could be made of wheat
Sworn am often torn
Could be swayed by corn
Synthetic aesthetic can’t beat
Heart attack in a pack food p*rn
If Polenta is the mentor.. its a chip
But if some parsnip you did flip
In oil then it is definitely…definitively a crisp
Got a hunch that if for
Lunch.. earlier at brunch
Or just for a munch
Thick or thin as a wisp
If it does go crunch
Then it’s crisp
Not being trippy.. dippy or too lippy
Don’t be hasty and haughty
Nothing beats..tasty treats
Seriously salty.. deliriously naughty eats
That's why we say crispy.. not chippy
P.S ..The only crispy beast feast
Where’s there is no hackling
Tackling or shackling
A snack as a chip or a crisp
No cackling…is when it’s crackling
Oops somehow a new row hatching..isn't
Fried pig skin..a pork scratching
But Colombian cronies are dispatching
Such phony baloney..there's no matching
The show ponies that are chicharrones
An old scholar called Mi Balls Hung Lo
Wished he could put his gonads on show
His poor wife got quite mad
But his daughter said “Dad…
just remember to add a big bow”
By Jan Allison
Now Hung Lo was really Gung Ho.
He had his big bow now in tow.
The new goal he set
was somehow to get
little Mister Happy to grow.
By Dale Gregory Cozart
Dolly Parton said, "Hey there Hung Lo!"
"Why don't you appear on my show?"
"While we're on the air
we'll show our two pair,
It might make your wee Happy grow."
Dolly said to Lo on a dare:
"Would you show off your pair?
I'll show mine
They're very fine
but not all covered with hair!"
By Lim'rick flats aka John Wulf
Lil' Mister Happy wanted to grow
So he could become part of the show
But overshadowed a tad
by the two giant gonad
Now so sad is Mi Balls Hung Lo.
by John Gondolf
To cheer him up they took sad Mr. Hung lo
To a place for encouragement to grow
Down they did jut
A poem for each nut
Mr. happy stood up tall for the show
By Pat Adams
Just woke up to this gorgeous day
What joy, think I'll go out to play
In my skivvies I will
Oh what a thrill
Tiptoe through the tulips twittering away
By Jack Ellison (My Poetry Soup Brother)
When Mi balls hung lo joined the nomads
Something happened to his small gonads,
the further they would go
much bigger, they did grow,
So he now uses them as knee pads,
Due to drinking the milk of the Yak
his large gonads started to shrink back
the more milk he did drink
more his gonads did shrink
problem was they were turning jet black.
By Roy Pett
PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME YOUR POEM AND I WILL ADD IT TO THE COLLABORATION
10-04-17
(whose video powerfully, profoundly, and
positively affected this southeastern residing
Pennsylvania papa)!
Afflicted with Cystic Fibrosis since her birth
contagious exuberance, gung-ho,
infectious jubilance noah dearth
which eye opening (then tearing)
podcast link sent tummy
FaceBook account,
she distilled and
didst poignantly blog the
purpose driven life,
no matter...hmm...
her existential time
nearing thee finis
line on planet Earth
though upworthy defying
deathly clasp of grim reaper,
who scythe lent
lee doth await
she (titled lass of poem) established
a substantial supportive network,
via such an up
beat aura, charisma,
persona, et cetera create
ting global bond sans,
world wide web, aye equate
chance lucky opportunity
to witness airily especial
and gutsy acceptance
of her (congenital) grim fate
while this healthy
(as an oxymoron) lix
spit tilling chap doth hate
sweaty palms (a minor,
though tolerable inconvenience)
versus being irate
at an accursed disease
still no cure as of late,
yet...state of
the art revolutionary treatments
provide longevity, and... YES
possibility to discover a mate
though consigning severe limitations
but...WOW, that girl (unknown
til yesterday) doth narrate
positivity, which amazing
will power didst permeate,
within thine noggin
triggering sincere flowing tears
bursting forth at an unstoppable rate
hence this attempted rye
ming livingsocial tribute
to go for broke
esprit de corps elan trait
completing a bucket list
while eternal sleep will wait!