Long Long winded Poems
Long Long winded Poems. Below are the most popular long Long winded by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Long winded poems by poem length and keyword.
Lips pucker
Sweet
corn kernel
K I S S E S
Biffing
long winded sighs
Into fits
WATERING
of pops and crackles
The squeezing..
(SQUISH)
strangle-hold
Pulsing tempest…………
Firmness
N u d g i n g
Tinkles
Licks nerves edges
munching marshmallows
in the cheeks
Wriggling sizzles
Tongues tAnGle
Hands Cl asp
Arms cRush
Legs Fling
Eyes r o l l
Breathe*lungs
Balloons on F i r e
Ooop! Oooop!
……………… Godzilla’s gobstopper
S P L O S H
Broiled caramel
like
Crème Brule
Hence no surprise... yes
recherché rhetorical flourish(es) impress,
yet mine deliberate vocabulist predilection,
I haint gonna stress
aforementioned quirk
also includes zero apr
(annual percentage rate),
may be subject with excess
sieve jejune ennui pullulating Kudzu like
indecipherable haphazard gobbledygook mess
abhorrent brashness claptrap discouraging
further harrowing progress
into thicket of verbiage, perhaps...
unwittingly encountering Loch Ness
cheesy Munster gussied up as...
transgender logophile, alias Hermann Hesse,
which obvious immediate
long winded atavistic feature will
allow, enable, and provide
dead giveaway clue to guess,
whether yours truly be
mouse or man (chess
champion) meandering along
stream of consciousness,
whereby succumbing to wordiness helpless
(fear not coronavirus,
nor other mortal affliction)
even if exuding fifty shades of gray pus,
the only bonafide surefire
holistic, iambic, therapeutic... recourse
I reluctantly, lamely, and feebly confess
to ameliorate slogging thru
metaphorical marsh cress,
(a veritable poetic nightmare)
volunteer self as unsuspecting to acquiesce
(lest no lifetime allowance
courtesy United States mint printing press),
whereat Impractical Jokers profess
gut wrenching, humiliating, insulting...
pranks, albeit dudes harmless
(think) only psychological state at risk else
suffer interminable, objectionable, unutterable...
mother (ƒµ©****) eternal duress
unbeknownst to thee multisyllabic
stranger vowel things in consonant
essentially Mattspeak trumpeting
as sesquipedalianism (the lesser of twee vols)
temporarily rendering, manifesting
sudden impulse to emulate... me,
and damaging basic cognitive process.
poets hate to get straight to the point, well she hates it, but she's clearly not a typical poet, she may choke on a metaphor or two, but she can express herself with the best of them, unfortunately this poem will not flow as poetically, she has a vivid point to get across, contrary to other works, this poem, well letter, is for him, she didn't just ask for a "just because" teddy bear, she asked him, she noticed him lost near a familiar horizon, perplexed if not tormented by his own thoughts, she noticed him, from the calming waters she danced in, knowingly stepping into shallow waters, that same horizon had her lost in translation, now words that once came easy she cannot convey, his sudden appearance in her life, scares her, she's frightened by possibility, for he could be the "more" she's prayed for, he could be colors to paint the gray skies she's accustomed to, he could be the world that revolves in and around her, he could hum her favorite song to save himself for the sake of her, he could be like a tree rooted deeply in her, keeping her cozy like her poetry, he could be human form poetry, he could be her poetry, the medicine for her sleepless nights, he could be her awakening that jolts her up at 3am to write, he could be as refreshing as rain, he could be here simply to combat her deepest pains, if only he knew more than just her name, if only he could adapt to the rules of her game, a tricky game where he could earn her heart, through writing this her anxiousness, her lion, her inner lion, is tamed, with hopes she ignited his flame, she hopes he runs into a crowd, pushing strangers left and right, all to see her, to seek her, revealing to her that she is worth the pursuit, worth being sought out after, she won't reveal a word, she vows to remain the silent southern hummingbird, but the melody, her lone melody, could come alive in him, now harmony, but she's probably overreacting, she knows she's overreacting, she knows why he's so overwhelming, she'll continue to write and vent to you strangers, she waits until she connects with him... this was her long-winded way of getting straight the point.. in short, this is why she asked for a "just because" teddy bear.. (she laughs)
My dad tells us a story on the car ride to our vacation,
We think it's out of boredom for the long haul to our destination,
We sit in the back seat n roll our eyes,
Here he goes again, but we have no choice but to listen this time,
We can't jump out the car, lol, he's the one driving,
Boxing us in the backseat while driving down the highway,
The long winded story version,
Every little detail, and explanation given,
Finally I say, dad, how does this pertain to me?,
He said, just listen, and one day you'll remember, you'll see,
Years from now, this story will have meaning,
You can't see it now, because it doesn't match what your feeling,
And one day when you feel it, The lights will turn on,
And you may not realize it until I'm long gone,
While you hang on, try to place yourself in the others shoes,
It will change your outlook and soften your views,
It will save your heart from disaster that could've been easily avoided,
Hey! Stay awake back there, I'm not done with my story! :)
Love, love, love.
Every needy thing's about more
and better
love,
Unless you're at a political rally.
Then we're all about patriotic, patriotic, patriotic,
Or Freedom, Freedom, Freedom,
Although if we are not free
to feel patriotic or not so much,
then I suppose what is needed
is more Love, Love, Love.
More active compassion,
more listening mindfulness,
more global, if not universal, consciousness,
more robust and resilient relationships
with co-migrant populations,
plants,
planet.
More, more, more
Love, love, love...
Why do we multiculturally long for secular love
and sacred grace
and win/win karma,
yet speak
and endlessly sing
for such long-winded
and short-winged cooperative relationships?
While investing so little time listening
to him
and her
and competitive/cooperative him/her,
as Left makes Right loves Left
full-circle again.
Creator God speaking theological
and creation goddess listening ecological
EarthTribes in love with loving experience
Of and for healthy ego-
wealthy eco-relationships,
wise as also well-being compassions
Listening to, "Love, love, love"
co-investing every communing harmony
playing and working life
through deeper and wider
active listening for timeless love.
Where the groundhog has chewed the chain link
I slip through a brittle-boned hedge
and I am there where geese sail
a puddle-deep fog.
I taste the sea in its brine-washed ripples.
Ohio spates with oceanic currents,
the Atlantic gets swept up on gull wings
surf pours West for hundreds of high miles,
then flops and pools.
The sky has fisheyes in it.
Between the blight-broken woods
aquatic scales skim, gleam
and blink over surface waters.
Long-winded showers shatter to spray,
clouds drip mist-drowned sea air's
upon a mirage of mermaids
that chase to catch them on the fly
as they plunge on
through the sodden turnpikes,
or pause to comb their sing-song hair
at the wind-swept rest stops
along Interstate 75.
~~~~~~~~~
edit
SLAPPY THE APPLE TREE OF OZ - WIZ
Dorothy and I go way back, don’t you know
and by the way I’m familiar with the bale of hay,
thundering tin can and the trembling kitty show.
At first they were hesitant to let me stay.
I had to pull my roots up from the ground,
put a cafeteria net in place to hold its yield,
then follow the yellow brick crowd ‘round and ‘round
and avoid a screaming witch out in the field.
She threatened to tear me limb from limb.
I stuck out my red tongue, told her to just try.
The knees of tin clattered together - poor him,
and dear Dorothy and her little dog let out a sigh.
I fell asleep standing in the poppy garden of snow.
My apples were nearly poisoned but I shielded them
before my eyes closed. Thankful for Glinda’s glow —
awakening even the brave one with his absent brain stem.
The growling yawn of the cowardly furball freaked me out.
I shook the diamondback crystals from my leaves and trunk.
Our Kansas girl led the way to Oz with a tree-mendous shout.
For the millionth time we grab arms and sing - this time in funk.
We reach the wonderfully luscious land of oz - green as my hair.
Begging audience of the wizard, he finally sees us.
I’m patient as he listens to the beggarly needs — a lion’s share.
I won’t bring myself down to their level - make a great fuss.
The wizard listens to this wizened curmudgeon tree.
I ask him for unending sweet apples without any worms.
And as he has done with the rusty-eyed gang, he makes a decree,
for he must give a long winded speech and make us squirm.
The only drawback is I must stand guard in this breezy courtyard —
a lookout for writings on the skywall that might jeopardize our lives.
Still, I am the crowned jewel, so humble, in this emerald vanguard.
We sang and danced our way down the yellow brick and survived.
10/29/2018
Off To See The Wizard Poetry Contest
Charles Messina - Sponsor
In the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy gets slapped by an apple tree. This is where I came up with his name :)
Despite emotional, financial, grammatical...
any woe that doth assail
whereat early in the
morning until late at night tub bail
sinking craft, not possible
(essentially 24/7), I bewail,
where the fickle finger
of fate stationed me in life,
as if groping in the dark
unfamiliar with Braille
at heart though - directly predicted
on how yours truly did curtail
requisite healthy development of
body, mind, and spirit, yes analogous
to a train tragically did derail
in a near fatal
(scores of years ago) accident
(sorry no gory detail),
yet the impact still sorely felt
(argh...eek...ouch...all pains dovetail
actually more like subduction,
(way more powerful than deleting email),
sans plate tectonics geomorphism process
(a lengthy missive would entail)
full scale explanation, okay
in a figurative nutshell this, male
long (winded) fellow cannot Atlas
shrug off the belief he did fail,
and hopelessly embarked on
impossible mission to secure the Holy Grail
this state of mind linked to many pursuits
that metaphorically did fishtail
many objectives abandoned
finding me to flail
convincing myself at a
tender age incapable NOT gale
lent academically, athletically, avocationally...
thus many personal enterprises
witnessed a scared boy, hence best to hightail
further progress without testing potential,
I often ruminate, how aye did hobnail,
viz self imposed aversion to risk
on par with the most fortified jail
and one circumstance that
expunges burdensome junk mail
occurs basking under spray
as warm water doth prevail
cleansing, kickstarting, and
rejuvenating (albeit temporarily)
though some hours later...
back to choppy waves and torturous sail.
I think I’ve a cycle
a monthly mindful
when I will write more
mind will rhyme pour
with ease and a flex
I see readied text
a pick and or mix
choice with index
pen down at pace
ideas not too waste
on my hand my face
capture to place
and given within
is rhythm too win
tight writes begin
like church bells ring
and I really go
fly smooth with flow
overthinking loads
then damaging rows
long winded
loose hinges
from great rhyme fringe
to cringington cringes
however one poem will prevail
do well
and I’ll buzz and I’ll rush
forgetting rubbish writes of sludge
seek a new write
a rhyme alike
set too the standard
but my mind now hampered
nothing happens
complete silence
I can’t see or sense words
the brain of a bird
rhythm wants to occur
but just goes nurr burr turr
I have a time of the month for rhyming
when I tampax it and catch a flow for writing
the seeds bringing to life rhyme
bleeding pen strings pictures your mind
Consider this my due apology
For what I said, for all the words I spoke.
I was so lost, and silence was the key,
Though I knew not, and though the silence broke
My spirit, shattered there, but then I woke
To find the words I should have longed to say.
There’s no point now. I know I am a joke
To all who know what there transpired that day.
Though all my hard work vanished in that storm,
Not knowing that the cost was way too high
I charged ahead, my countenance changed form
As then I found my hard work doomed to die,
As either way they punished me, I’d fry
For all the words my shaking voice did say.
That said, was lost my agonizing cry
Because of what transpired there that day.
My cry was lost, my words fell on deaf ears,
Save for the few who knew that in my mind
This is not always how it first appears,
But if they would look deeper, they might find
That I’m not horrible. I’m mostly kind,
Though every now and then the words I say
Are spoken without thought. So I charged blind
And that is why it happened there that way.
They read the charges then, and they struck home,
The worst day of my life - at least so far -
I almost read right back to them a poem,
Yet knowing that I wasn’t up to par,
Knowing I no longer was their star,
I held my tongue. How I wish I could say
The things that I would do to raise the bar,
Apologize for what transpired that day.
Consider this long-winded narrative
A cautionary lesson to the brave
Whose courage pushes them the truth to give.
I know when not to speak; the truth I gave.
If only from my misdeeds I could save
Myself, now, there’s no price I wouldn’t pay
But now there’s nothing more than this I crave:
To learn from what transpired there that day.