Long Jesting Poems
Long Jesting Poems. Below are the most popular long Jesting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jesting poems by poem length and keyword.
I think it's genius
when a person can
see beyond the veil
as they used their gifts
in the most creative way,
in imperiling the darkness
in a jesting way.
This is what we call comedy.
There are many but
few will dare to speak out.
The few to speak out
are the most noble ones
with the heart of a lion.
Bernie Mac,
Dave Chappelle,
Kat Williams,
Eddie Griffin,
Richard Pryor,
Jim Carrey,
Redd Foxx,
Lenny Bruce,
Dick Gregory,
The Smothers Brothers,
There's more,
but I would like to say, gratitude
for carrying the torch
of illumination in
exposing the darkness.
Thank you for never
backing down when the
odds were against you
as you stared into
the face of temptation.
Heart pumping faster
than a cheater chasing
it victim. Blood on
the borderline of hypertension.
Out of the blue,
things became peculiar,
and frightening, as their
intuition, forewarned them,
ahead of time. Leaving
them in a state of distress,
they became agitated and startled.
As these events were unexpected,
it lead them, not to trust anyone
again, but it was to late.
Spiritually, they received
their rewards for their
bravery and courage deeds.
There's only a few of
them that still persist,
as the hyenas secretly
tries to silence them.
The leaves are falling, falling, enriching
cool of fall season. Shades of fiery red,
yellow, gold, emitting light; bewitching
green summer leaves. Wondrous mystical bed
a time of windblown beauty gone and fled.
The past forgotten upon umber boughs
which shudder left disrobed, misbegotten.
A new beginning, a new smile endows
nature's convergence. Up comes the cotton
spun and woven into cloth, not boughten.
Wailing chill of long hours of Halloween.
Scrumptious Thanksgiving aromas, feasting
with loved ones. Time full of gladness between
new birth of a child and birthdays lasting
smiles. Season of rainy days were jesting.
9/13/2018
Gamesomeness goads gawky, gingerly,
goofily graceful, grandiloquent gent, gallant,
genteel, geico, guppy gecko, gabbling gaffes,
gagging, gamboling, gestating, gesticulating,
garlic, gnashing, gobbling, gyrating,
gruesomely grinning, grappling, gnomadic
giggly, grubby, gastrointestinally grumpy
gewgaw gazing guy, geographically germane,
gungho, grave gremlin, grumbling, guiding,
guaranteeing, guerilla gripped gatling guns
ginning gumpshun.
Hello! Herewith halfway harmless hazmat,
haphazard haggard, hectored, hastily,
hurriedly, harriedly hammered, handsomely
hackneyed, heady, hellbent hillbilly, hirsute,
hidden hippie, huffy humanoid, hexed, heady,
Hellenistic, holistic, hermetic, hedonistic
heterosexual *****sapiens historical heirloom,
homeless, hopeful, holy, hee haw heretical hobo.
Indefatigable, iconographic, iconic, idealistic,
idyllic, inimitable, idiosyncratic, ineffable,
irreverently issuing idiotic, indifferent, inert,
ineffectual, ingeniously iniquitous, immaterial,
insignificant, indubitable, inexplicable, ignoble
itches, ineffectually illustriously illuminating
immovable infused ichthyosaurus implanted
inside igneous intrusions immensely
imperturbable improbable.
Here we sit,
Deep cheer greets mellow;
Touch wise wit,
Clear change meets shadows.
Stretch fond sight,
Glimpse time move swiftly;
Seek still light,
Breeze sifts cold strangely.
Time can sketch
Poise that grows gently;
Space frames etch,
Choice spins feel truly.
Rest on the wind,
We sit here resting;
Note odd din
Old times flood jesting.
Hand-in-hand,
Find rest here briefly;
Old thoughts grand,
Twin souls know clearly.
Dusk comes quick,
Too fast for sorrow;
New dawn speaks,
Prize thus time mellow.
Sad eyes look,
Time ooze fast falling;
Last page hooks,
Old tale now ending.
Leon Enriquez
07 May 2017
Singapore
Without a doubt my second happiest day
was when I 'fairly' caught the wedding bouquet
I used a sneaky play, but I'd waited so long
that desperate ploys could no longer be wrong
The story of my life was failed campaigns
despite training hard and using my brains
Not wanting any strains I'd leave nothing to chance
Tom Cruise in tights couldn't have got me to dance
I'd limber up and always picture success
and study the opposition like pieces of chess
but I'd be a mess when beaten each time
and worry about getting past my prime
At my first ‘bouquet’, experience and height
were the two factors that carried the night
but I was all right - I was young at thirteen
and the loss made me more hungry and mean
The next attempt brought pain and humiliation –
sweet success was dashed by disqualification
I had no invitation, but there are no rules
At least it seems that way, the way the blood spills
My confidence ebbed to an all-time low
but I soon bounced back like a seasoned pro
I again caught the boq, but thought they were jesting
when they said I'd failed the steroid testing
It was very hard my three year suspension
My come-back efforts I hardly need mention
I felt the tension and had sweaty palms
and resorted to using adhesive balms
It wasn't until the day I donned the gloves
I was confident above the push and shoves
but flying's for doves, certainly not for me
because I became prone to injury
Thirty nine years old against youngsters with flair
I was going to win whether foul or fair
People would stare and say I was finished
but at least my guile hadn't diminished
Just winning was no longer enough
I was so weary as the sport was so rough
When sure I wouldn’t **** my next opportunity
I had to secure my financial security
I gave the bookies all of my cash
and bet it all on my last dash
The bride was Steroid Sash - my closest friend
As she raised the bouquet, I squealed, "hard far end"
I caught it and won the appeal
It was adjudged a legitimate squeal
The feeling was unreal and anticipation high
Now all I needed was to meet a nice guy.
That's another story!
(See Chapter 2, Courting Woes)
From David’s book Poems for Wedding Receptions & Poems Definitely NOT for Wedding Receptions! with over 30 poems
There’s a shadow in the valley, there’s a blight upon the rose:
there’s a watchman keeping tally of the Autumn’s dying throes.
As the berries shrink and harden and the grass grows pale and spare,
there’s a quiet in the garden and a sadness in the air.
In the gloom of late September, under heaven’s purple pall,
we come to stir the embers of a love that touched us all.
Most solemn when most jolly, you were tragic when a clown.
There was pain behind your folly, and your smile concealed a frown.
For us, you raised the rafters, but at heart you were alone.
In your gift for sharing laughter lay despair which was your own.
The timbers now lie rotten and the dead leaves are your wreath:
but you are not forgotten, and won’t be, while we breathe.
The wide world bluffs and blusters, but we’re loyal to the core:
and the Old Brigade still musters, though we’re fewer than before.
One loaf we need to leaven, accept before we die:
don’t rail against the heavens, and never question why.
The waves won't leave off lapping, nor ponder how we feel.
Unhappiness just happens, included in the deal.
You gave, without requesting, more than we understood.
For your melancholy jesting, we salute you, as we should.
Tea kettle steam and curtseys greet queenly company.
"Quaint" dainty danishes are dazzlingly displayed
with quintessential utensils and dishes.
Stenciled place cards display exclusive names.
Respective guests, formally dressed, rest with "poise."
Facing "platinum" plates gently lie on lace doilies.
Coral lilies bloom "perfume" from a porcelain vase.
Imagination's "quay" traces Teacup Bay, where
a sea of swooshing scents blend to perfection.
Sinatra's croons fuse with light conversation.
Earl Grey's bergamot flavor warrants accolades.
Spiced chai indulgence compliments petite cream puffs.
Honey hibiscus kissed lips sink in to sandwich quarters:
glazed turkey focaccia perked with endive and feta,
and roast beef ciabatta pleased with provolone cheese.
Tuna cucumber rolls are wrapped like sacred scrolls.
Bakery scones, cupcakes, and biscuits await.
I "quiver" to consider the "quandary" of
treat possibilities, all within reach.
My jesting "penance" for perfection
is to sample three of each.
Mind Your P's and Q's Contest words used:
Penance Poise Perfume Platinum
Quay Quiver Quandary Quaint
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
2/9/2021
With love’s purity
you offered me with sincerity
assurance toward “till death do us part” certainty
of joyous "one-flesh"* security...
confident to receive my affirmative surety.
Decades ago, you’re hopeful of our altar date
upon your insistence midst persistent prayer-state…
yet, knowing that with steadfast faith against jesting fate
the Sovereign’s answer is never late...
courageously, you accepted that I'm not meant to be your lifetime mate.
Beholding you with your happy family now
while delighting in my special home, ministry can only allow
I’m rejoicing that each of us kept our steadfast vow
to be in the center of God’s will; to Him we submissively bow
since He knows what’s best for us…including every why any how.
Midst agape love binding mine with your heart...
from our blissful memories we can’t depart
you and I never got away from what we did start
to please the Lord, through His entrusted course-chart
vanquishing selfishness and its fatal dart.
*Matthew 19:6 Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.
July 7, 2020
2nd place, "The One that Got Away" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 7/7/2020.
Life is jesting, breasting amplitude waves.
Wait till they cave to my whims, make them slaves
to my non-stop babble "a-ga a-da"
"goo-goo gaga”, “coo”, ma-ma" and "da-da."
Staring at frightful strange faces falling
to my belly, a bubble, Ppppprrrrrrrrrrtttt, blowing.
I giggle, but they look pretty silly.
Drowsy, "Ba-ba-ba," they call me Willy
their good at imitating my babble
as they worry and come on unravel.
With enough practice they'll get my command
and I'll have them eating out of my hand.
4/12/2019
Poetry Contest: Baby Face What's You THINKIN 2..
Sponsored by: James Edward Lee Sr.
How do you do, Point of Exclamation?!
We love your disposition of hooray,
We bask in your uplifting sensation,
Without you words would dry up in dismay.
“Oh thank you, I’m fantastic! Awesome! Great!
I thrive indeed on fulsome words of praise,
My final punch is not to punctuate -
My one and only goal is to amaze!”
You sure run on a brighter sunny side,
One mark and we jolt to your vivid vibe!
What would ameliorate your cheerful pride,
And turn your tone into a jesting jibe?
“Oh Boy! I fear my joyful cover blown!
Oh well! Though I appreciate the wit,
I hate when used for monotonous tone
With an assumption that I can fix it.”
You stand alone but carry so much weight,
How do you strut your stature straight and proud?
“By adding zeal and zest to what you state,
I smile, chuckle, grin and laugh out loud!”
Your punctual purpose clearly beats the rest
Where from you generate your spunky spark?
“Oops! My attention span isn’t the best!
Too many queries, ask a question mark!”