Long Hatter Poems

Long Hatter Poems. Below are the most popular long Hatter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hatter poems by poem length and keyword.


RAIN SHINE

   
Placed 1st in Contest 


rain shine so divine 
sprinkle blessings kissings wet ~ 
feet in leather boots
           ~~~~~~

Rain-shine sound patter 
mad hatter
Alice lost in whimper drops
coatless with Rabbi Rabbit
ruling
                    \|||||||
              ////||||||||,,,,,
        ///////.////////||||||||||||~~the r
                                          Ain in
                                 sPain   f
                                            Alls mostly
                                       on the    //////~~_____?•
plain rain is my gain                    drip
to refrain                                  D
from disdain                               r
                                                     O
Keep                                                p  dripping 
          Ing
         everyone 

SANE                 planting  \\// \\//  grain  …..
                                                             ::::::::::
torrential rain potential 
Puddle      H
                           Ubble    Oo00orainnoshame
huddle close

    s 
            H
           O                                       * * * 
               wers  for blue flowers    | | |

so they cower 
in    ROYAL   tower  /////|||||||::::::://///\\\\\\
                              ///\\\\    a shimmering sleet
                                         of rain glimmering 
                                         on street
                                                        rainbow sheet covering
a fleet                of   SHIPs
                                2 dip  so neat 
                                                     sweet      
  
   RAIN AGAIN                        bleat bleat
SODDEN EARTH 
joyful mirth
                   |||||\/\/::::::::||||||•••girth birth water 

w a t e r   FILTER     b
                         R
                              OK
                              en
G.  R.  A. T. E. F. U. L    4.  RAINDROPS
                                           buckets of rain 
           there’s a hole in my bucket
    rain  s
               E
                  e
                     P
                        s 
                               sneaking

holy   r   A  i  N    
   
Rain     S.  h.  I.  N.   e.      ••xx
ON  ••

_______\\\\________
Form: Other


Cowl Lix Aged Language Lover

please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create a lingual Loch Ness
(when hens canst come home to roost
   especially, encountering 
   the following conglomeration
   in matthew scott harris patois).

He readily admits writing inventive
   attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
   Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
   courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
   gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
   and certainly less
to impress.

Gnome hatter intent toward 
   cogency, fancy ingenuity,
   levity, the inevitable 
   resultant wrought gobbledygook
   fascination for Lingua Franca
   feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
   and splatters Asia Yukon guess.

Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
   sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
   finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
   swimmingly enervated 
   via erotic laced sentiments
   perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
   hollering, gesticulating floundering,
   (in close proximity to Davey Jones's locker)
   to avoid drowning at sea
   perchance comprehending passionate influence.

   Upon espying a signature poem of mine
   forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
   tib hush anonymous re:
   dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
   taking him/her to the brainy 
   (briny) deep brink
   Icon fess

this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
   aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
   alphabetic wanton soup,
   or figurative egg drop bub
   bling broth (el) doth brew)

   pronouns Sibyl affectation 
   affliction sans plethora,
   where each ladle full adrip with
   richly flavor Verdana Font lee
   and sincerely textured vocabulary.

   Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
   (blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
   suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
   particularly expectorating flashy 

   hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
   hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
   might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
   vis a vis plagiarize plethora 
  amidst storied plentiful English droppings.

Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
   temptation to bask exultantly,
   professed glorious unrequited love
   announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.
Form:

Premium Member Rats in the Cellar

Rats in the cellar, squirrels in the tree,
things aren't the same as they used to be.

When I left for school with my li'l lunch pail,
I didn't expect a penguin to swallow a whale.

Such an injustice, I've never seen,
a cantaloupe falsely imprisoned a bean.

It's unheeded screams, uncontrolled laughter,
when it's trolls that live happily ever after.

Doors off their hinges, pancakes are stacked,
biscuits are burning, windows are cracked.

Termites in the baseboards, rabbits that fly,
pigs that regularly take to the sky.

Voices that whisper, mad dogs that bite,
winds that go howling and look for a fight.

Wrapped in cellophane, mixed in a blender,
taped up in cardboard and returned to sender. 

Rainbows and ravens, kaleidoscope dreams,
leafless branches, gallows lit by moonbeams.
 
Music boxes, pink ribbons and bows,
tags come on packages; tags come on toes.

Curtains lifted, sick, unsavory scenes,
gear wheels in gear wheels run strange machines.

Dissected, disowned and double-downsized,
unaided, unacknowledged and unrecognized.
  
Puzzles, conundrums that cannot be solved,
water plus turpentine make witches dissolve. 
 
Pimentos are diced, harsh words are spoken,
nightmares are jumbled; eggshells are broken.
  
Lost in the doldrums, eyeballs protrude,
walking on blisters, a horse latitude.

Spineless jellyfish, lackeys and flunkies,
silver tongued vultures, branch swinging monkeys.
 
Experts and pundits, paid authorities,
Kool-Aid in canisters, down on your knees.

Bishops take pawns, the fat lady sings,
fires ablaze on black nights with kings.
 
Shattered stars, fragmented stones,
shining splinters, bleak, burning bones. 
 
Songs without meaning, songs without words,
sung by unseen phantoms and silent birds.
  
Refrigerators with pictures nobody knows,
eyes staring back, no answers disclose.

Spiders and spinning bicycle wheels,
buffalos, bandits, and slippery seals.

Electric toothbrushes, electric chairs,
lethal injections, pushed down the stairs. 
  
Pieces on the floor, a sad state of disarray,
the gift you've left me is insanity's bouquet.

You stole my cookies, pilfered my cat,
laughed at me roundly and turned me down flat. 

Mice it in the attic go chitter chatter,
have I lost my wits or gone mad as a hatter?
Form: Rhyme

Break of Day Spawns Thwarted Revanchist Rebellion Among Biosphere

The last trailing tendril filaments
of moon beams nocturnally trace
fashion an illusory gilded chariot Ark,
whence upon celestial runners,
the approach of dawn's early light
illuminated terrestrial space
which nebulous solar city flanges
revisited since time millennial
hubbub of human race
nsync with Zodiacal constellations,
which appear to shift

as planet Earth axis place
alternated in accordance with
inexplicable universal teenage
mutant Ninja turtles joint pact
with power rangers assumption
sans quotidian playstation remotely
controlled by aliens upon
oblate spheroid figurative stage
set whence commencement nudged
village people foment quiet riot rage
and rant against

uncontrollable catastrophic frenzy,
when cosmic creator
rehearses another page
from playbook, which
color coded cobbled Bible
emanates with radiant hues
of yellow and osage
nonetheless, no mortal adept to predict
(only within plus and/or minus
some marginal variance of error).

oft times punishing atmospheric phenomena
incarcerated, pistol whipped
(if anther incorrect),
whiplash unleashed, oppressed, imposed
challenging condition testing ground
flora and fauna could thrive,
whereat most hardy
plants and animals didst abound
linkedin upon terra firmae
murmur of orchestrated
organisms devising fitting
evolutionary survival traits

plentiful glory vis a vis L'Chaim;
gnome hatter outlook required
sprinting thru uber vanguard,
where zero sum game pitted
disadvantaged Feng shui
living things poorly sparred mismatched
against itching attired egghead,
kickstarting netzero beastie boys
indeed emulating hotmail prodigies
holding greensward ground.

scrimmage fostered, elicited,
dictated, commandeered nature
going full throttle with pings
across biological labyrinth
positioning glommed, peeved,
mis tweeted seeds of life, and white lily,
within soil lent green grubby business
whereby herb and woody stemmed
recalcitrant proto flings
wrote toe rooter bakers

gave Gaia a run for her money
to buy Buffalo wings
chasing miscreants nimbly
outwitting, out-rigging
outsmarting nettlesome stings,
and sage protuberant fungi,
released messengers where rise home
spore ports left nada mushroom,
though symbiosis wood
bark a roll a cord.
Form: Rhyme

Oval Sanatorium


Nutty grandpa president
is talking crazy uncle Donald again
His little Chucky thumbs
is tapping epithet tweet nonsense
Batty grandpa’s been 
grumpily sucking 
on the hate hot sauce bottle
stashed in his KKK closet
Now he’s sporting a Commander-in-Chief cap,
dressed in a wrinkled birthday suit
Churlish grandpa wanna blow the nuclear candles out
in his Oval padded room
He’s trying to smear his coconut-frosted 
pejorative German chocolate cake 
on every African looking face
Calling Doctor Strangelove and nurse Annie Wilkes Misery,
bad Grandpa is verbally pooping all over the place
His anti-social, mood swing meds
is scattered everywhere on the bed
Nutty grandpa prez
is a stable genius he says
But his schizophrenia behavior
is open and shut caged rage ... Jekyll and Hyde
Hannibal Lecter ... American Gothic suicide
Old Grandpa says
young women love him like Frankenstein’s bride
His paranoid soul
got a misogynist itch
in it’s nether parts
Curmudgeon grandpa claims he’s really rich,
and has an Ebenezer Scrooge heart
Nutty grandpa prez don’t like no immigrants
who came from where he ain’t
Straight jacket truth wraps him wrong,
he loves to swear that he’s no saint
Crazy grandpa just wanna roam the West Wing halls at night,
cursing at everybody left and right
His angry autocrat ticker just wanna be dictator loved
with family suck-up sniveling loyalty
Cuckoo grandpa flew his nest egg eyes over someone in the staff,
whose nurse Ratched mirror image greedy
Nutty grandpa president just got another person fired
for improper cleansing backside kissing
And the raucous din, 
rising from the voter base-ment,
means it’s electoral shock therapy time again
So lock the border doors — 
keep it dissent quiet, dum-dum
Czar grandpa prez don’t like all that democratic noise
Silence of the lambs,
that soothing lullaby hum
Is the sweet sound 
that calms his Joker tweeting thumbs
Rest your rage, nutty grandpa prez:
Uneasily snore deeply, 
wearing your Mad Hatter MAGA brim
(keep having more troubled, neo-Nazi policy dreams
of Making America Great Again)
As the White House hospice staff is issuing
M.A.S.H unpatriotic greetings 
to Parallel reality refugees 
seeking insane asylum ...
Welcome, to the Oval Sanatorium


Happy Birthday George Andrew Dunning

would what that be junior? senior? sophomore?

since this brother in law rarely emails, 
     ye may scrunch countenance puzzled, 
     or on verge of emitting flatulence, 
     that if a ripper got let loose (by Jack), 

     would possibly find ja propelled, 
     thru Edgar Allan Poe's churchly 
     sepulchral tintinnabulation 
     (where for greater effect

     yukon envision imagistic ravenous bats 
     in belfry resonating air,
or perhaps blasted back 
     to the House of the rising sun), 

     BUT...gnome hatter, 
     no win tent may starkly appear
explaining inexplicable reasonable rhyme, 
     why aye dash communique 

    minus virtual trumpeting blare 
(sorry, but in the interest 
     of belated birthday cheer, 
without computer generated imagery) 

     rendered hoop fully readable, 
     sans black and white Scottish matted pixels 
constituting beloved appellation 
     unsure how to address ye perfectly clear

while sitting atop padded office chair,
pondering as already writ, 
     how to acknowledge thee, whither with dear...
meanwhile, this scribe experiences 

     comfortably numb derriere,
now scrambling, resorting, and toying 
     to fetch acceptable, catchy light hearted endear
mint, that seems tolerably acceptable 

     (of course) with flair 
acutely perceptive, though NOT overboard with glare
ring obeisance, NOR USE ALL CAPS 
     TO SCREAM so ye kin hear  

soap hull ease excuse this incurable 
     Harris scribe with thinning heir 
yes...oye gevalt, infantile regression finds me 
     burrowed in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania lair

still emotionally inchoate, though grown a mere
speck within the flotsam and jetsam near
to boyhood Collegeville abode NOT saved by a prayer
re: home companion bachelor Norwegian farmer

replaced instead by vinyl city 
     all in the name of progress
which (once a pawn a time) 
     open farmland did dis app pear

so...a gam bulling gambit 
     to avoid moseying down Level Road... 
may NOT seem *****
for insufferable sadness 

     with eyes bursting with many a tear...
(gulp) tis best to veer
away from topic uh viz er rated razed homestead, 
     and mainly wish ye another birth year!

adieu...from math tha hue
Form: Lyric

Birthday Blessing For Michelle

On a bitter cold snowy, snowy day
She entered the world her own way
My sweet courageous daughter 'Shelly
Beautiful blue eyes and a Fire in her belly

Bubble gum stuck in her curly blonde hair
With a heart full of compassion to share
Always up for a double dare
Full of life"s hardest unanswerable questions
These are some of my heartfelt recollections

A child so full of incessant meandering chatter
There were days I felt like the Mad Hatter
But then she'd flash an impish grin
Propelling my perplexed heart to pitter patter
She never grasped what was the matter
For 'Shelly was steeped in innocent love to flatter 

A cherished memory she loved to pursue
To climb aboard her rocking horse and yell "Yahoo"
There wasn't much that little girl thought was taboo 
When I think of her now, I say, " Good for You!"
She's charming, alarming and so full of wit
As I've come to realize, my Darling Daughter has Grit

Of course, I was much older then, I'm younger then that now

But I hope you don't mind from time to time
If I access from the corner of my little girl files 
of dance recitals, volleyball MIP's, and soccer uniforms 
An absolutely fearless solo jet ski mile with your signature smile  
Your first pearl necklace, grown up dress and shared color forms
If I could imprint these weaved words into a locket
For you to keep it in your pocket and read during life storms
My message would be I'm with you as your life transforms

Although sometimes we dance to different drummers
What wonderful memories we have of shared summers
Your brave and bright, a novel delight, I don't always get it right
I pray nothing more for you then you reach YOUR height
whatever that may be
and that your journey is filled with inspiring insight
as your dreams take flight
Because I am your mother and I Love you with all my might

As I reminisce the day of your Birth
I am proud of the value you brought to this earth 
You have loved and lost and felt remorse
And still you climbed back on your rocking horse
My,  what courage that implies as you dried your eyes
But then ...Silly me....Your a force, of course!
and I LOVE you and your re SOURCE fulness
     ~Happy Birthday Michelle~
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Thru Maritime Miles 2-Reflection

In spite of the way I was doomed in the past
I might have resumed all my duties at last
The ship captain's daughter who killed for a lark
Was tossed overboard in the path of a shark 

The captain himself made a pitch in the punch
For helping the witch who was having my lunch
The bulk of the pirates were sure I was dead
The captain was second-in-line to be fed

I learned of his fate from an old pirate mate
A scurvy old sailor who thought I was great 
A stable companion when we were at sea
Who seemed rather stunned by the image of me

He thought I returned as a spirit or ghost
Or maybe the wrath of a watery host
The image of someone who died for the harm
Of hurting the lady who fell for his charm

He cried like a baby to learn I was real
And not merely someone who died as a meal
The friend that he knew by the fact I was kind
A gentleman pirate with nothing in mind 

The captain was dead, so he offered himself
To serve in his stead from the top of the shelf
The pirates were pleased so they voted him in
To serve by the curve of his broad, toothy grin

I asked my old friend if the couple they tried
Were found to be fit or just fit to be tied
He told me the captain was mad as a hatter
And even his daughter was no laughing matter

The lady was grinning when you made a splash
She said that you died when they took out the trash
We stared at each other and said this can't be
That pirates and shipmates should die stupidly 

The captain was drunk when he made his mistake
But when you are sunk there is no second take
He plead for his life and he plead for his daughter
We fed them on board and we fed them in water

When learning of late that my captain was dead
I turned from my mate and I lowered my head
The man was reduced by the last of his brood
But no one alive should be treated as food

I knew that my life as a pirate was done
When I was a fool in the course of my fun
The future of pirates on land may be dim
But even a pirate should know how to swim

So many brave pirates who plunder in wigs
Are trading the sea for a cow and some pigs
My life as a pirate is what I love best
But even a pirate must bury his chest...
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Debbie's Rhyme Schema

"Iffin I woulda, iffin ONLY I coulda, WELL
some think I shoulda, that I misunderstooda
cause my brains made of wooda!" said Pinocchio.
"A toy's life's sublime without thought of  rhyme 
we dances ta  chimes , we've plenty of  time 
an alway in our  prime  !" Pinocchio said.
"But, ta be a  boy , the real  McCoy" 
he said real coy, I'd really enjoy 
the Hoi polloi," said Pinocchio. 

Gepetto sat with his wine as string he did twine
and pondered his line for he was kind, 
then spoke his mind and he said ...
"My little wooda boy, now's notta the season, 
we're freezin'listen to Papa's reason," he said
"God says it's treason and it's His laws we be pleasin'
so getta to your bed!"

Wood whittlin' rose spittle and words noncommittal, 
he sighed, just a little 
and said with voice brittle,  "My son ... 
Maybe tomorrow you'll sprout and I'll route
you a new pair of shoes to wear out and about 
you'll be handsome no doubt."

The toy slept and Geppetto whittled. 
Of the matter he prattered for he wished not to shatter the boys dream to tatters, he was 
mad as a hatter, it seems?
The hall clock did chime midnight, a cricket didclimb
the workbench to chatter a soft  mime sublime. 
Gepetto did not notice at least for some time!

Jimmy Cricket was his name; he told old Geppetto
a wee green sage from a Golden book's  page
and the meadow. [They were the rage!]
They helped to make boy toys for life on the stage
and this is how Pinocchio's life was engaged!

woulda
coulda
shoulda
misunderstooda
wooda

sublime
rhyme
chimes
prime
time

enjoy
coy
boy
McCoy
Hoi polloi 

twine
kind
line
wine
mind

reason
season
treason
freezin'
pleasin'

brittle
little
spittle
noncommittal
whittlin'

out
about
route
sprout
doubt.

hatter
shatter
prater
matter
tatter

chime
mime
sublime
climb
time

page 
sage
stage
engage
rage
fun
Form: Verse

Adventures In the Rabbit Hole

Down, down, down, further and further I tumble, once again into the rabbit hole looking for my Alice. I am swallowed by an avalanche of darkness, bumping into slippery walls that propel me further into the void, back among the other lost boys. Dazed and confused, I am trapped in a bleached out, made up world, surrounded by mountains and valleys of half-truths, all vaguely familiar; perhaps from another visit?

The wind peeks around the corner as rust colored leaves crunch under my feet and I find it impossible to feel solid ground, always sliding back to where I began, wondering if all rabbit holes are like this? I see a frosted gray sky that makes me feel small and lost, as I close my eyes to block a haunted memory. I am desperate to find my way home before the dark creatures of this endless night seize another helpless victim.

I stumble ahead to seek safe harbor from the sting of the wind, finding myself captive in the same dream; always awake, always with no way out. I turn to see whose voice I hear, but only the barren winter tree limbs stare back, and they refuse to bear witness to the words I think I may have heard. It is the curse of listening to the constant staccato sound of my own voice until I barely know to whom I am talking.

Swamped by the darkness, I stumble into a gaping hole in the middle of this endless dream sequence; a portal to a never-ending maze, surrounded by unreal images that float on wisps of air. It is a turn of events I never seem to be able to escape.

Suddenly a frigid blast of air races through the rabbit hole, and sucks me upward as I try to grasp the shimmering walls, momentarily sliding back, desperate to stab a toe hold in reality. I brace myself against the wall and reach up, determined not to fall back into another adventure in the rabbit hole and its never-ending realm of repetition.

I am able to scramble out, slamming right into the gate keeper; a naked, smiling temptress, mad as a hatter. I straighten up, and with my last shred of fallen dignity, vow this was my last adventure down the rabbit hole. She nods her head, knowing she has heard all this before. This is the curse of love.
© Steve Zak  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

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