Long Loquacity Poems
Long Loquacity Poems. Below are the most popular long Loquacity by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Loquacity poems by poem length and keyword.
Eternally Lovely now,
The Bride of my Dream of Gold.
And rolling down grassy slopes,
Whose smiling heart ne’er grew old.
Eternally Helpful, too
The Braid in my burgeoned beard
That round my loquacity ropes
And sees that I’m rightly reared.
Eternally wise and kind,
The Bread of His Life and strength
The Child of the King of Hopes
The Lifeline of endless length.
She rides through the ethers now
E’er calling forth clouds of snow
The crying child, helps, as he copes
Wherever his troubles may go.
And so, I have finished my tale,
Except the Divinest part
The poor fool who grumps and mopes,
She JOLTS by her Heavenly Art!
I am praying for an eternal silence,
Your loudest move is just another offence.
I have been open to you for the longest period,
The interpretation you want to pursue is just making you an idiot.
I have never been so close to a clown,
I have never felt so wilfully drowned,
I cannot express the audacity to call you an unthinkable pride,
I cannot have the gratitude to be your undying guide.
I want to lead a life of the fullest norms,
You are just an unknown necessity that I have always seen in silly worms.
You are full of loquacity,
I am nothing to your pertinacity.
You want to judge the desecrated smile of Monalisa,
I want you to draw a similar structure on your countenance.
Everyone might be perplexed,
I don't want you to be suppressed.
You might not be a cenotaph of the transparent authority,
I don't want you to be that bargained mendacity.
I want you to walk through a thousand rivers,
To me, this river Life is nothing but a remarkable caricature.
I think I know the Name of Purity,
It is Your Name -- it holds clear water well!
A Chalice carved almost to shattering,
A white rose, that alone, grows in the dell
With drops of ice adorning its still face
The warmth of heart that comes with falling snow
The few flakes that adorn your lashes, by grace
Delightful cold that creeps up from below
Loquacity that speaks only the Truth,
Amazed by every small, delightful thing
Ubiquitous praise and unbroken Youth
Right Trust, that gave your finger to the Ring
Inevitable Joy, and whispered Love
E'er faithful, that this all is from Above.
2/11/2019
Submitted for: Standard Poetry Contest 175
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Ex pat Pom loving aplomb & many a flickering F bomb of the OG.. GC at the G
No spin larking bickering barking larrikins clearly hear the din of fans chagrin
The culprits the ex players pundits in their pampered and champered pulpits
I want baggie green spleen to be vent outside the oh so privileged pro tent
Your spectacular curvy vernacular is the quip fillip in times so topsy turvy
Cricket’s pervy badgers nervy starved of nuanced narratives..like Test scurvy
The game increasingly nihilistic your ballistic bants & rants..holistic chants
Sycophantic semantic antic relishing & cherishing your loquacity, audacity..
Bodacity & sagacity…got them by the gizzards with your verbal blizzards..
Rapacity of skits & gambits..tenacity of wits...our own proverbial Oz Wizards..
Coz boys your ploys are the everyman not fancy dan talisman of fan elan….
Joy envoys of odd bod sod the cricketing Gods run roughshod pod masterplan..
Your reffing gift wrapped in effing & jeffing.. a bucolic vitriolic frolic & tonic!
No fibs his nibs is loving the cut of your jibs….this old timer rhymer pondered
Wondered does cricket's ultimate bastard..The GC.. like Lord Kitchener.. need me..
Saluting a highfalutin cultural calling card.. your own Bard as two become three?
Oh Echo why, did she beguile.
Queen Hera with loquacity.
Thou mountain nymph whose winsome smile
Did mask Zeus from complicity
With sylvan nymphs, his sole desire.
Those dalliances once revealed
Set jealous Hera's heart on fire.
Echo was blamed, her fate now sealed
To never speak, till others spoke.
And only then, those last words said.
Then bite her tongue, or she would choke.
This punishments inside her head.
A woodland hiding place she found
In solitude and loneliness.
One day she heard a youthful sound.
His voice her lips, it did caress.
Then " do not hide " Echo replied.
This paragon of many charms,
Bemused he said " please do no hide "
When Echo ran towards his arms,
Narcissus cast her to the ground,
Extolling death, to her embrace
As from her lips, his words resound.
She disappeared without a trace.
To wander evermore alone.
Those mountain caves were her domain.
Soon blessed death, turned bones to stone.
Her voice was all that did remain.
8 / 16 / 2025
Wonder why dearly creatives are really gruff
Ponder artists fright...why they're in a right huff
As if their plight wasn’t nearly hard enough
Now AI picks alright clearly nicks natives stuff
Copyright blight.. tight AI guys fight with trite guff
Won’t share …it’s unfair…don’t care..life’s tough
Your ”off the cuff”.. they lazily buff.. crazily turn to fluff
Like a stranger getting your lover or wife up the duff
Red hot bot rot danger is rife but still they will just bluff
Strife..this lot don’t give a jot ..another blot we must rebuff
Muster the puff to bust their bluster..off they trot..play rough
Stand tall..together they’ll fall..grab by their neck’s scruff
As sagacity…loquacity.. bodacity & veracity techs nab & snuff
Authentic becomes drab identikit wrecks..cultures these vultures scuff
These AI fingers lingers in everyone else’s pies…Nuff is a Nuff
Yep and I can hear in my ear.. dear old.. Brian Clough chuff
“That’s Bloody rubbish”
AI guys lies..snaffling then raffling is baffling…but surprise surprise in the buff…it’s total shruff!