Long Nunnery Poems
Long Nunnery Poems. Below are the most popular long Nunnery by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nunnery poems by poem length and keyword.
(to the tune of "Joy To The World")
For "A Christmas Carol Contest"
12/17/21
And here's the thing,
Set aside your bling.
Make life the worth of it all.
And tell it to the nunnery,
And tell it to the funnery,
That love is overjoyed,
That love is overjoyed,
That love is all there is.
Bring here the news,
In life we choose
Love, or lack thereof,
And I know them both
With both I've been betrothed.
Forever entwined as two,
Forever entwined as two,
Follow not as I say,
Rather as I do.
I breathe the word,
Like a big, heavy bird.
Too fat to flap my wings,
Too fat to flap my wings,
Resound the sound
Of all good things.
The days of the year has quickly flown by
collecting aspects of serenity in the clouds,
for passing storms to stir the tremulous sky,
and try to make futility multiply in floods.
But from under gloom voice that hilarious cry,
See happier faces more lustrous make you smile.
With friends whose virtuous lives will never die
their beauty transcends the surprise for a while.
Celebrations to come from the nunnery of advents
unlike other days of the year; today is your birthday,
summary of days on peak season, outlived past events,
This rejuvenation of joy gives youthfulness each day?
Enjoy your dreams and the sweet encore of fantasies,
Sizzle with kisses and firelight stars of beautiful optimism,
beyond the grasp of humanity; soulful symphony echoes,
and the sound reaches to the highest temple in heaven.
Gathering the applauses commission from east and west
compliments make the visage of your virtues increase,
With kaleidoscope colours appeared in tears of interest,
where the value of your worth shall never decrease.
Halo skipping up to the sky; the eclipse makes a happy cry,
flames hides all hint of pain and the rain falling frail,
with moonbeam stars swelled bright in the mock eye,
A clear path between faint feelings and the swale.
Not so dear DT:
Many voices have avoided asking you
obviously challenging questions,
Like, "Why?"
I have a different
but related choice question:
Ten years from 2020 revision,
would you rather be dead
or a silently cancelled mystery
rightly left behind
by a more resilient
blood red
healthier EarthClimate
history?
This is my rightful
red-blooded
Earth patriotic question
for not only unjust you.
The entirely apartisan U.S. Senate
comes immediately to what's left
of my right mind,
Especially those egregiously unclean
unrepentantly ungreen,
which seems to clearly exclude
no one
from blue penitence
seeking more red hot hope
for ecological salvation.
Better off already dead?
Or still breathing
but more left living behind,
out of over-invested
nemesis light?
Why, AntiUncle Samson,
Why?
What in degenerative
dogmatic Hell
was our bad trip
without soulful you
all about?
The journey toward forgiveness
is a long one,
short on patience,
bankrupt
for culpable slack,
publicly mediated lack
of green clean curiosity.
Redemption begins with:
Hi. I am DeToxifying Donald.
I am part political fascist
and part economic fool.
I'm sorry.
Let me make reparations
by donating what little is left,
not yet self-righteously destroyed,
to Earth's Feminist Future Gardeners
already permaculturing peace.
Then, cancelling
my monoculturing
"DT right is only red"
brand,
I choose to disappear
into a transgender nunnery
to clean ungilded toilets
To clean the pots
we have all marginally peed in
for myself
by myself
swiftly cancelled
by unplanned climate change
like everyone else.
Who Knocks
"Who knocks so quietly on the cloister's
port a poor girl from a land afar."
We sang that song at school and always
made me emotional, I could picture this
poor waif seeking shelter
Now we know what happens to the poor
and pregnant women seeking shelter at
at a convent run by brainwashed nuns
The woman from Donegal told us when
She came here at 17 and was pregnant
How was she to know this nunnery of
sexually frustrated who had taken a vow
who, in hatred, had turned this a sin worse
than death
When the time comes for our girl from Donegal,
to give birth, she was ill, and they gave her a sedative
Then, as a child was born, she heard a scream
of one drawing of air for the first time
They told her the baby had died; had she
dreamt, no, but there was nothing she could
Christianity is a good religion, but why is it
When it becomes an institution, evil enters
through the front door, while saintliness is
out of the back door like a shroud
As a lactose intolerant
cow whirring lion eye zing
dual (Banjo playing) Manichean
("FAKE") keen man womanizing,
faux nymphomaniac wannabe,
I cone only scream about visualizing
nip pulling and getting a breast
of Hani La (vanilla),
this sweltering unfreezing
Wednesday while mouth
watering chiefly hanker
for milch of
human kindness, which titillating
fanciful fandom fantasies
skinny dipping into soliloquizing
whet dreams har made
sadly, simply, and sorely realizing
test tickles quizzing
noggin merely figment
of fertile imagination pricking
prurient potent plentifully oozing
naughty salacious, licentious,
and felicitous evocations pulsating
hypnotically invoking
trance send dint overriding
gloriously flirtatious escapade needling
my over active
thought processes monopolizing
ability to focus attention trying
to compose joyous leavening,
sans jump starting
massaging, and kneading
dormant limp libido liberating
panting allied force,
which seems tubby
in axis Sybil for Nick -
A.Ting, thus Celeb Basie,
frantically, gingerly, and
haphazardly kickstarting
pussy riot with this feeble attempt
for a firm hut heave action,
one docile male member
devoid of livingsocial,
hence aye coon
sitter ring joining
a nunnery, which
would be habit chilly unfitting,
and very un convent
shin null for a poetic happy ending!
I have slept while awake,
And on an oneiric trip,
To stroll down the street;
And prognosticate in these rays,
Behold the white monster,
With a mask to fissile...
So, I peeped through the lens,
Of my conscience, my acme!
The future is nude and rude,
When I ask, why the quotidian;
The terror in her voice trembles,
The mightiest of the old...
Even in their red badge of robes,
The future wears the crown,
Of a fire emitting dragon,
Opening her claws like Hamlet’s sword
While I sat through it in a lingerie!
The sight has omitted me;
Leaving me not near the latrines;
As I sat far in the future,
My time had past and I’m no more,
This trip is fast yet slow in thoughts,
The insight of her bailiwick;
These lines are bigger than books,
Longer and truly soaring in croaks,
I see building falling, crashing to the down,
The silhouette of this prescience emote,
With the doughty of illusion,
The gumption to trenchant signet,
To tell you a folklore about a geographer,
Who saw the end of the empty earth!
So, I couldn’t think of anything new again;
The words, grammar and everything gone,
Leaving solitary an empty lexicographer!
Please take my honest nunnery words,
While you work and hard to beat acme,
Remember to take care of yourself,
External and internally for eternity awaits,
For in the final end of an ululating time;
Death smiles at us all,
And all a man can do is to smile back.
Sorry to tell you that I’m back,
From my short terrifying trip...
And truly the shadows were of a dream.!
Think that you might agree with me ,there is no way easier to pen a poem,
Than writing it right here, on your poetry home.
There are no characters to remember, no details that you have to keep together, with a mental hook!
In a short poem, like a haiku, there are only three lines!
It doesn’t take a notebook,stop wasting valuable time!
Writing poetry to me is as easy as visiting a nunnery!
Go get to work with, joy and write down all your funnery!
Plus, you don’t have to store your poetry anywhere at all!
You can just put it right on this site any fortnight, any season at all!
So what I’m saying is, that writing poetry here~~is no big bear!
Poetry Soup stores it online, so there is not even a piece of paper to tear!
3/11/2025
Sister Josephine, our neighborhood nun.
No longer fit for ministry;
although she’s quit the nunnery,
she sits at our day camp nursery.
Go Jo uses every amp of energy
so as to champion or otherwise dampen
the spirit of grit in our scamps.
Sister Josephine, power shavers couldn’t stun.
Noise is born in my son.
Enjoying his horn on the run
from morn till night with the sun,
Boy Roy is fun, delightfully won.
Toys are Sprite cans, squiggly egg whites,
old cobs of corn and badly worn kites.
Sister Josephine, our savior you’d want.
Nursing their aches and their sprains,
reversing the stakes in their games,
she takes on blessing their brains.
Interspersed with pain, her tests will train,
coerce and arrest their thoughts with some stress.
Her heart makes and breaks their quests.
Sister Josephine showers favors - on good done.
Rhyming Words:
Stanza one:
no, although, Go, Jo, so
fit, quit, sits, spirit, grit
ministry, nunnery, nursery, every, energy
camp, amp, champion, dampen, scamps
Stanza two:
noise, enjoying, Boy, Roy, toys
born, horn, morn, corn, worn
son, run, sun, fun, won
night, delight, Sprite, whites, kites
Stanza three:
nursing, reversing, inter/spersed, coerce
aches, stakes, takes, makes, breaks
sprains, games, brains, pain, train
blessing, tests, arrest, stress, quests
Random rhymes in the the single lines:
our, power, showers
(neighborhood), (shavers could), (savior you'd), (favors/good)
nun, stun, want, done
What's a matta Rick?
Get tired or sick
Bored of your board?
The chore you adored
Now left for a ghost
No more here to post
Left for all but dead
Did you lose your head?
Did ya fugeddaboutit?
can't get a "roundtuit?"
Left it high
Left it dry
Go outta your mind?
Get lost in time?
On to greener pastures
Where the flora and fauna grow faster
"The grass isn't always greener
Where the septic tank is cleaner..."
A bit of advice amorphous
From the wise old Greek, Erroneous
Mayhaps thou art a lurkin'
Packin' prose perniciously perkin'
Mr. Robot's radar is workin'
Are you in a gerkin?
Didst thou lose thy quill of tales?
Choo Choo train gone off its rails?
Tall ship lost its sails?
Out huntin' great white whales?
Not a victim of skull-duggery?
Or engaged in some fool-buggery?
Anon, get thee to a nunnery!
I but jest, a bit of funnery!
If you're hangin' with the fairies
Ya best have a care, be wary
They're a tricky little kind
They'll mess with your mind
And before ya even know it
You're a mad mushroom poet...
They were all screeching about the robbery
as if it were important, some kind of stupid catastrophe
Their screams and whines and wails began to trickle into my shoes
I kicked them off, and kept going
I am a gourmet, selectively deciding what will bother me.
Material goods are okay, but I am truly all about food.
Pizza breathes life into me,
Especially when a chef understands how to garnish
And the importance of the right seasoning.
I hate to act prissy. I am not straight from a nunnery,
but I am selective. Everyone does not get into my head.
Common complaints and wails of others receives a lukewarm reception.
I glance around the barnyard, hoping to spy a little piece of pizza.
The farmer threw out some left over pepperoni to us yesterday.