Long Jovially Poems
Long Jovially Poems. Below are the most popular long Jovially by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jovially poems by poem length and keyword.
Vijay you are such an
Inspiring character possessing extreme
talents and capable of:
Jovially handling sensitive people,
Aiding weak souls
Youthfully —which is truly good.
Keep going little chap
Understanding you to the core is
Mesmerizing, enriching and pleasing and
i am
Awe-struck at your sense of humour that
you seamlessly flourish,also
Radiantly spreading smile everywhere.
8-4-2020
~DEEPA~
7th place in "Your fave poem 2020 not written for a contest"
Sponsored by John Hamilton.
18-6-2020
May 25 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on Psalms 25-30
Key Verses – Psalm 25:1 -2 Unto thee, O LORD, do I lift up my soul. O
my God, I trust in thee: let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY SOUL-LIFTER
Lord God, You are my soul Lifter… joyously, yet soberly triumphing over me
Thank You for enabling me to become what You want me to be
Jab into my deeds Your truths I need to practice so my faith others can see…
Jack me with Your mercy so rich and free.
Lord God, You are my soul Lifter…
judiciously, yet compassionately pardoning me of my iniquity
Thank You for examining me, proving me of Your sincerity
Jail my vanity inside Your wondrous works’ sovereignty…
Jam me against my dishonesty along Your integrity.
Lord God, You are my soul Lifter…
jubilantly, yet graciously gladdening me of my salvation
Thank You for hiding me Your pavilion’s fortification
Jar my anger away from cruelty’s oppression…
Jell me within Your holiness’ passion.
Lord God, You are my soul Lifter…
joyfully, yet peacefully drawing me to Your heart
Thank You for empowering me along divine nature You did impart
Jeopardize my bad motives so selfish with arrogance-dart…
Jerk me out from wickedness with Your light for revival great start.
Lord God, You are my soul Lifter…
jingly, yet expressively blessing me by Your inheritance
Thank You for upholding me to worship in Your righteousness’ assistance
Jibe my goals according to Your majestic stance…
Joggle me of my pride and break my resistance.
Lord God, You are my soul Lifter…
jovially, yet courageously shaking me from fearfulness
Thank You for cheering me by Your voice of comfort and gentleness
Jounce my sadness with Your caring blissfulness…
Judge me along Your loving kindness with Your healing’s steadfastness.
Lord God, You are my soul Lifter…
jealously, yet protectively bringing me to Your keeping
Thank You for prospering me as on Your paths I keep on stepping
Justify my deeds by Your favour’s grasping…
Juxtapose me alongside Your ministry’s propping.
May 25, 2023
This ain't confetti
Tiptoeing in the soup shadows,
hiding behind a crusted keyboard
spewing raw threats in freak speak
dug up from the shallow realm
of which they are formed
Beneath a pink umbrella
where cowards lounge
Shivering like babes in snow banks,
tossing stones, targeting hearts
inflicting pain…expecting a laugh
Stand up, (if you can)
Allow me my aim
Dance about if you like in your tutu,
pirouette in your disgust,
my hand is steady
Unlike yours...moving up and down
staring at a screen, pretending
someone actually gives a damn
as you wave jovially
to those who vacate
I’ll find this circus
where tents are pitched,
cotton candy stains the sawdust
and you climb out of that tiny car
with a fake smile painted on your face
And when you feel it you will know
this ain’t confetti, as you fall in your own stench,
and the audience…Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,
children of all ages…
applaud!
A man who raises his children
Biological or not
Caring and concerned for their welfare
Doting and dependable of their every move
Each and every day he works so hard
For his family, making sure they have enough
Glad to be their provider, the
Head of household, husband, father
Inspirational speaker
Jovially joyous in his demeanor
Kind and knowing in any circumstance
Loved by all
Motivating his children to be better
Never cruel always polite
One of a kind
Protecting proud man
Quietly unassuming
Respected, reliable, responsible
Sacrificing, supportive
Teacher of good
Understanding even in discord
Vigorously
Wise and watchful
Xylographer extraordinaire
Youthful strength and
Zealous supporter of his family
Make haste arise,
assert the words.
Salute each term
that now gabfest.
In mid of night
they waltz, serenade;
Jovially jolting
a rem-sleep state.
Appease them please,
awake, awake.
You have mere seconds
so soon they fade.
Witty performers,
these festive words;
Parade to play part
of a poet's verse.
Rare frolic idioms
seldom last;
Assign them purpose,
applaud their crafts.
Ink well the quill,
poetize prose.
Recite with vigor
what words compose.
Inscribe each stanza
on scroll egg-shell white.
A task I've done
numerous times.
Ideal locutions
dispel thy rants.
In poetic sequence,
I'll debut thy stance.
The graveyard tenants,
who serenely rest,
to this day,
upon this sacred site--
On Hallow's Eve,
will resurrect
to celebrate
the frightmonsterous
of holiday delights.
When the night settles,
with its moon
pulsatin' gloom--
witches fly high,
with Autumn's breeze
and cackle
while swirlin' round
on their enchanted,
witty-brooms.
But first, they'll have
to reconvene
and conjure up--
their Kooky, Goulash Bash-
equal to none.
Twelve bats with gnats,
nine toads, well crushed.
Stir it six times--
then P O O F, it's done.
Children stay calm--
please, do not fret nor cry;
For you might miss
this Zany spooky night.
So listen carefully and watch--
you're sure to hear
the Werewolves howl,
when Frankenstein
comes stumpin' by with fright.
The mummy's wrappings
will come undone.
In shameful places, he's usually
missin' Humongous chunks.
He'll ask to borrow,
from his mummy wife--
her scarf and S n a p p y girdle--
to cover half
of his exposed behind.
Dracul limpin', comes in late.
His fifty brides suspect--
he's out, again--'taste-samplin'
the blood of every virgin maid.
This just can't be....
this Old Bat has no game.
So Igor prays--no one sees
his Soy-sauce drippin' fangs or
self-made, kissed smudged cape.
When he f l a p s in--
there'll be....
a Horrid, Terrible S p a t.
For centuries now--
they've drained the moat,
replaced cobwebs--
and even fed
his feisty rats with
mangy dungeon cats.
That's how
the castle chores--
have always gotten done.
Both servants,
Renfield and Igor Hide--
as soon as he--
their master, flies--
to chase town belles....
when it grows dark.
Zombies
will soon initiate-
the hunts and in games--
Goblins, Spooks
and Monsters
jovially anticipate.
Most dance and sing--
while others growl--
till cry.
Just like we humans do--
they also react to things
that they don't like.
Some pranks can scare--
but, done just for smiles.
It'll be the B e s t
Frightacular Night--
they'll have....
in a....long....long while.
A good number of us decided to go on holiday down to the sea,
Well, it was such a fun crazy time and it ended far too quickly,
Every night a couples’ name was pulled out of the hat,
It was our turn to cook on the coming Saturday, fancy that,
We had to put on a good spread and decided to cook Greek,
Out we went on the morn ticked off each item, had to perform peak,
No-one was allowed in the kitchen when we were cooking,
The aroma wafted under the door, they were eager to come looking,
But we locked the door, and two hours later we rang the dinner bell,
The clan came quickly, it smelt divine, followed their nose and tasty smell,
Everyone was hungry So ample portions we served, it tasted so good,
We were complimented, Jane asked for a second serving of food,
So proud we were, one and all, enjoying our Cabernet and chatty dine,
But then something embarrassing happened, which wasn’t so fine,
A heaped spoon my friend placed in her mouth, we heard spluttering,
a cough and, oh my gosh,
Her empty spoon fell into the food with a thundering splattering splosh,
Jane quizzically picked this thing up, it had a tail, not a mouse, but a black plug,
With a bright shiny chain which took forever to reveal itself,
I wanted to crawl under the table but all I could do was blush, was it myself
or hubby, when washing the veg in the sink, accidentally picked it up potatoes
At first silence, then her hubby laughed, watch out for the salad and tomatoes
It has become a household joke between us and many a friend,
We were jovially asked what was the next Greek dish that we recommend!
Antares' red glow bears firmly down
upon plush, chartreuse carpet
lying prone against the obsidian expanse,
blanketing sections of a remote
blue sphere, purling,
spinning helplessly
through distant time and space;
slave to routine and rotation,
never daring to break free;
to reach out.
Scorpius sprawls low
across the Autumn void;
a celestial corpse
twinkling, twitching;
inexplicably still breathing,
expelling the last
of her precious plexine light
in a final, desperate act
to awake inspiration, stir passion,
proffer wholeness and healing
to an infirmed, ungrateful planet,
for her end-of-reign recession.
Projecting dreams; visions
like swirling Akashic holograms
leaping forth from ancient pages
of ethereal records,
all but lost to time and apathy.
Twisting snakelike through the cosmos,
her broody gaze steeling
in every direction;
fierce energy bombarding;
burning across the universe.
Intense joules bursting forth;
reaching out to nurture
willing universal souls;
scorching those who reject her,
turning them to table fodder
at a divine banquet
for dark gods.
Sagittarius flickers jovially behind
as if breathless with laughter;
taunting, frustrating,
staying just out of reach
of her vengeful tail.
The rule of Scorpio wanes
upon Orion's horizontal breach
extinguishing the sting-ed cluster;
quelling her tumultuous surge
until late-spring pains
rebirth her fires,
igniting them, emerging again
from the icy chasm
of black oblivion.
Mirth-filled, children converse boisterously
Presenting their future jobs jovially
As the best and greatest, well-said pridefully
Midst innocence, sans ignorance of witty perspective cheerfully.
Child A: I’ll be an actor with varied roles distinctly
Ruling as president, then reigning as king honourably
And I can just command here and there constantly
Then if tired, I’ll call for my “double” instantly!
Child B: Aside from doing good works tirelessly
I’ll be a minister, very kind to everybody
How nice it would be to hear Grandmas sweetly
Call me “Father,” though I’m so young obviously!
Child C: A pilot I will be courageously
Soaring beyond the clouds gleefully
Greeting eagles ecstatically
While people look up above, waiting for my landing excitedly!
Child D: I’ll be a barber with finest style awesomely
Instructing officers, even the king to bow down carefully
For their hair to be cropped handsomely
And become good looking winsomely.
Child E: Well, I’ll be your teacher who smiles triumphantly
Inspiring you to reach your aims diligently
Commending you for your noble jobs victoriously
Thanking God... you humbly shared you contributions jubilantly.
*Ephesians 5:20 - Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
July 24, 2023
Honorable Mention, "Humorous poems # 2 contest"
Sponsored by Jay Narain; judged on 7/25/2023; and additional lines were added after it was judged.
I was a child of words,
they explained my laughter, sheltered my dreams,
gave soul and sunshine a synergy,
emotions could escape jovially, mischeviously, miraculously,
art from a wind pipe, architecture of innocence played on papyrus,
I discovered that I could lye with them to achieve absolvement,
I may lie with them to remember light in long trails of history,
poetry became my throne, my home, how my heart shown
somethng precious I could own,
from them I learned diversity of dangerous dialectics,
from them I may teach about candor and courage,
about forgiveness flown wide,
a license from Divinity, a desire from death diging in doubts,
wise warriors may make the word sword from words,
defending their lifetimes with those weapons of intellectual warfare,
I chose Poetry because She rescued me from the philistines,
where I needed meaning She gave me begining
with an oath for us both,
going forth like students entering a cathedral worthy of new psalms
She was the water I touched my forehead with
I was Her reason for season,
a whirlwind She could bless with a scream,
a man with poetics in my purpose and melody in mind,
She would shatter stars for my delight
and I will break my body for Her foresight,
for She is forthright,
and I am Her knight -
J.A.B.