Long Irreverence Poems
Long Irreverence Poems. Below are the most popular long Irreverence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Irreverence poems by poem length and keyword.
A festival for all who so to hail,
Who freely get anticipatory bail
To break all social norms,
Turn on head all set forms
And get a nod, the powerful to rail.
A mixed blur of mischief,
Freedom, so what if brief,
Where humour and prank’s prime,
Irreverence no crime.
In any a kingdom
Carnivals blur wisdom--
Hoping to kiss bosom
Gets to kick but bottom,
Yet, what so, how so ‘tis,
Joy unfolds if not bliss,
A toast is it, all transgressions to tail.
________________________
Happenings|12.03.2025| joy, colour
Note: The Indian festival of colour called Holi was celebrated on 13/14 March.
“I'm ready to go anywhere
I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade
Cast your dancing spell my way
I promise to go under it”.....Quote by Bob Dylan
I AM A STRANGER HERE without you
I CAN'T EXPLAIN why
I walk through this RING OF FIRE
WHERE THE NIGHTIME IS THE RIGHT TIME-
when out of the darkness I SHALL BE RELEASED
from the uncertainty of my struggle
There are 500,000 souls here
with one voice of peace and love, and I…
am finding my voice in Neverland-
intensely running in the circles of my irreverence
to create the chords within the tunes…
my music - my rhythm – my soul
my words to change the world
Looking to my orator of this brotherhood
MR. TAMBOURINE MAN,
the designated ghost of my hope
hammering the jingling beat
that shackled my feet to follow
this haunting melody inside me
where I am the master of my freedom
But…
You are my song of songs,
YOU ARE AS GOOD AS YOU'VE BEEN TO THIS WORLD,
the hand I hold to walk in this light
lingering sweetly in the HIGH TIME
of my experimental chaos
that I so fiercely hold onto
within the bosom of my art
that rages ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER
of my soul
MY DARLING BE HOME SOON
He was just another foulmouthed saint
“halo” tilted jauntily to one side
wings tucked neatly into a dirt stained jacket
aura – lightly tinged with a sparkle of dust.
cussing – his milieu of mindfulness
spitting – his punctuation marks.
Yet they always sought him out
sat with him, tapped his endless time,
shook their heads in awe of his irreverence.
He said “that if the shadow you cast
isn’t longer that that of the church
you should find another church”.
Claims he read a book – ONCE
built a few colleges
never attended one.
He had a predatory edginess
patrolling, protecting, shepherding,
all who entered his domain.
His face absorbing the pain of his vision
watching the innocent betrayed
by sweet talking charlatans
he would occasionally straighten his halo
unfurl his rumpled wings
tell them to “F..k off!” – and spit!!
He was just another Foulmouthed Saint.
John G. Lawless
©5/30/2018
Since industrialization there’s been agitation frustration palpitation trepidation vociferation
And unequivocal asseveration in favour of our planet’s welfare glorification and protection
Premeditated or not, the results on the planet are nothing short of brutalization and martyrization
Damage is irreversible and orchestrated with acceleration towards matricide and genocide no question
Axiomatic domination exploitation contamination violation decimation decapitation
Take their toll from appropriation to deforestation, amputating earth’s lungs without arbitration
Patronizing politicians greedy for ovations ignore aggravation assassination brutification asphyxiation
Not fooling anyone with altruistic motives of lavishing ones with undue admiration and accreditation
We’re beyond allegations and accusations of criminal irresponsible desensitization and legitimation
Way beyond denials repudiation vacillation and claiming a convocation for immediate restoration
The truth is we’re an actualized and glorified civilization cohabitating with vegetation and crustacean
We claim to have more intelligence yet all we show is irreverence greed alienation and agglomeration
The truth is the damage humans have created in the last hundred years amounts to irreparable laceration
Optimists say it’s not too late to opt for self-preservation with inspiration adaptation and indoctrination…
AP: 1st place 2022
Submitted on March 26, 2018 for contest TRIPLE A CHALLENGE sponsored by ROBERT HAIGH - RANKED 8TH
We've gathered here today to watch this
knot of holy matrimony, but my children of God,
listen to the words of warning from the creator
who made you.
He wants us to live in peace, to live together as brothers and
to treat each other with love.
He pleads: why are you failing me?
I gave you the riches of the earth,
why are you burning the house down
with your wanton desires, your neglect of the future,
with your endless quarrels, with your wars and bloodshed?
Stop turning every landscape into a swamp, stop living
your dreams without limits, your irreverence for the wild life,
your savage deforestation, your racial superiority, your human rights abuse.
Let us pray for peace, amen.
All was well in the kingdom until squirrely
Burlesque queens with raunchy, yet
Candid sense of humors and delectably
Delightful appetites of various natures began
Eliminating unappreciative uptight relatives and fair weather
Friends who could not empathize and did not care about their show.
Gearing up to annihilate the competition with laughs and giggles, and
Heroically re-build unearned, sullied community-given
Images into what they’ve always believed to be truth-telling, these
Jovial, unified,
Kindred, happy-go lucky souls were soon
Laughing their shoes off with crazed relief and corrupting
My own self-assured Uncle
Nathan who at 19,
Often
Portrayed uptight
Queen Viviana, in his weekly drag queen side show,
Respectfully and with love, and a smidge of irreverence.
So let this be a lesson to Drag Queens
To whom we owe respect.
Under no circumstances should Queen
Viviana’s
Wayward Son,
Xisus, be allowed to wear
Yellow tights, garter belt or dress. Not that
Zanier things have not happened in the palace.
Innoculate against the forces
of the dark spectrum and it's Siren tune.
It's sickly pale green and gold hues. Monochromatic scale of hallucinogenic hopelessness.
Uses your Pride's Holden Magnet in it's vacuum.
A fog in the distance closes in,
like a Harpy in Venusian Projection,
streaming obscenity,
zooming in mirror of it's dirty vanity.
Principalities stalk the bog of your ruin.
Embalming your soul into insanity, Heretic Cocoon.
The Dance of Death's pompous Melody.
Dreamweaving sutured organ,
piping your fog into Mummy Womb.
Nightwalkers overlook the ritual.
Demon Satellites orbiting your perdition.
They argue this violation is consensual.
Taking not in_- the adorn of light's prism.
But staunching irreverence, a shadowed-stench where the light bends, grotesquely mishapened.
The Lord of the Flies-traps closes as if nothing happened.
Rainbows end.
When
When did a bed become your prison
I see your strength absorbed
Absorbed by the mattress
I turn you
Trying to prevent sores
Who would have thought soft sheets
White sheets
Could cut like glass
I hold on to you
The younger you
Remembering your smile
your vitality
I had thought you to be
The most beautiful woman in the world
It is said that boys fall in love with their mothers
What I miss most
Yes most of all is laughter
Playful exchanges
Those times no one else existed
The moments when we were the best of us
Before life became real
Responsibilities
Chasing of dreams
Growing up
I thank you for my humor
My irreverence
My questioning
My creativity
These were not accidents
They sprouted from the ground you nurtured
The listening
The time you spent
The cheering I heard as I lived my journey
I knew I could always come home
Now you are home
My home
Let me read to you my stories
We still have smiles to share
You who I love
Who cared for me
I will not abandon you to a strangers care
Endings matter
I will usher you to your beginning
This bed can't hold one as strong as you
One day soon
You will skip into paradise
You will pick daisies
You will place them in your long flowing hair
When the time is right I will join you
When I have accomplished all that I need to do
I will miss you
I will cry for myself
Not for you
Because I know
You live beyond this room
I will once again
Know
You are the most beautiful
Woman in the world!
Dedicated to my Friend Armand.
do we want to know what’s behind
it - it the show, the drama, the comedy, the crown?
roll the tape, blind us
to the truth of the goofs
snapping turtles, caramel
the lines deceased
irreverence released
do you want to fall behind
the line, congo style
playing the bongos
on air, blowing off steam
Ricky’s loving
her deep red hair
henna is just a trick
he does tricks
morality took a leap, why
the dial into sleep?
David’s herding, no one heard
the sheep.
the bees buzzing
the birds whatzing
the show a go go
look on tape
to see what you believe
no one
in tv land is dressed in virtue
it’s a really big shoe
Ed Sullivan’s size
throw the curtain
don’t look behind the curtain
memorize the lines
even prairie lines
so sweet and innocent
don’t analyze
you’ll be disappointed
don’t buy the book
it’s not done by the book
there’s a cover for a reason
don’t meet the action figures
they don’t bend
you can pop their heads off
they’re not worth
a million dollar man
Farrah Fawcett wouldn’t give
him an eye
it’s rich
his life’s unreal
roll the real
world
In a flash, coals of darkness strike the night,
her teeth grating... pinched by a rage
screaming on walls that resound from her lungs;
her face spitting out a whorl of madness
in a verbal lash of ten or more whips,
mocking all the way down to the veins…
A furnace of rage disconnects her from some
sense of reality: the raw edge of irreverence
at every turn... panting, cussing, and cutting
sliced words like broken glass, as though
her heart is unaware of her sense of duality.
She taste the tears of both wrath and liberation,
plunging down the sunken pit in a hazy blur;
until she hears a voice,” it's alright, girl”...
for her borders cannot see the difference
between another time, another place,
where gentle sighs and harsh language
cannot blend as she hardly responds.
For John Lawless: Minced Words Contest
6/24/2016