Long Obnoxious Poems
Long Obnoxious Poems. Below are the most popular long Obnoxious by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Obnoxious poems by poem length and keyword.
There's been a breaking news report about Santa's reindeer.
While flying over Russia, they were lassoed by vile Vladimir!
"I'm determined to ruin Christmas for everyone this year.
Too many smiling faces in the world," he said with a sneer.
An envelope arrived at the Kremlin. Postage was first class.
And a note scribbled from a poet's hand, that was rather crass.
It read, Here's a gift for you. I found it in a pile on my grass.
I hope it reminds you of the poop that plopped from your ass.
Putin was enraged! Someone took a photo of his snarling jeer.
When it was shown on the news, the world let out a cheer!
He's going to take revenge, and wants everyone to live in fear
but I think there's a hero who's going to take down Vladimir.
The one who'll save Christmas is a jolly man in a red suit.
Usually he's kind to others, but not to one of such ill repute.
He'll get back all eight reindeer and his sleigh filled with loot
and tie up old Valdimir, that obnoxious murderous brute!
Santa wasn't injured when putrid Putin captured the reindeer.
Laying a finger beside his nose, he got himself into first gear.
"I'll nuke him," Santa said, "Blast his butt out the hemisphere!
Then deliver toys to girls and boys. Fly home and have a beer."
What if I happened to win the lottery
What would I do with the money
Spend it on all kinds of frivolous things
Or a year long trip with my honey
Eat in restaurants three times a day
Choose the richest item on the menu
Act like a snobbish old mucky muck
And obnoxious no matter the venue
They'd surely know I was 'nouveau riche'
By my big mouth flamboyant air
But I wouldn't care, with a bulging wallet
I'd do everything with panache and flair
Quite a pipe dream I'm currently having
Not a chance this lovable jester
Could be anything but the belle of the ball
A vision of beauty in polyester
Odds are about fourteen million to one
So I won't be buying the beer
More chance of becoming a cultural icon
Like Mylie or Britney Spears
© Jack Ellison 2012
Somehow you found yourself wide awake
Not lonely but unsure of what to do
Your other half is sound asleep and dreaming away
You yourself is far from sleepy
Your body is too energize from all the caffeines
You’re far from famish
Exercising isn’t your thing
Facebook became boring
Sudoku got tiresome
Nothing is good on TV but obnoxious fake news
Read all your books
Did all you house chores
Completed your last puzzle
Spent hours on poetry soup
And now... you’re laying on the recliner chair rocking away and staring up at the ceiling
Staring but unvisualized
Yes your mind is jam packed with thoughts
But what are they
Your legs are restless
Wiggling them toes
Pulling on your hair
Then switching to bite your nails
Seriously ~ gross
Sighing
Looking at the clock
It’s well after midnight
Oh yeah your mind blink and say oh time to sleep
Your eyes shut your mind down to NOT yet and blinking madly
Your mind sped off in black and white
And you continue to rock yourself on the recliner
And so the night goes on
Wiggling them toes
Pulling on the hair
Staring up away
Unnoticed of the approaching dawn
Somehow you managed to remember to turn the lights off
And everything went blank
—————
Goodnight my soupers
Form:
Ashamed to learn Justin Bieber is Canadian
Sure doesn't represent THIS Canuck
A total embarrassment to this country of ours
Dragging us all through the muck
A total loser in every sense of the word
His disgusting exploits are renowned
Wonder what our dear Celine thinks of him
Our image, he's quickly tearing down
A disgraceful display of obnoxious behaviour
Unbecoming of this beautiful land
I'm begging you please, ignore this creature
Dismiss this jerk out of hand
There's very few things that provoke me enough
To stand on my soapbox and yell
Guess you've realized I'm incensed to the max
This kid is heading straight for hell
© Jack Ellison 2013
I remember growing up,
I mean when I was very small
I was not a bad girl at all.
But Mom and Dad raised me to never speak my mind,
To be a liar if need be, to get along with humankind.
It was a boring childhood indeed.
I did not know it was Ok to be me till I was at least nineteen.
The freedom that brought!
Something I had always quietly sought.
It did not mean to be obnoxious,
Though no matter what, you have to get this.
Some people will find you toxic.
you just leave them be and find others like you.
People unafraid of the truth.
Some thinking life is their carnival booth.
They obviously have not read human history.
Some pretty, some far from nice, not a mystery.
Just find truth seekers just like you.
Even Shakespeare knew, life has a problem or two.
So in my poetry I write about all aspects I see in life,
Don't read me. It may cause you strife!
On the other hand, pain also brings laughter.
I won't muzzle my mouth, not ever.
I am not dead.
And we are not living in a pristine hereafter.
Just walk away, quietly.
The world full of friends,most assuredly.
Who will love you as is!
And that's a gift, my friends!
You are not in this world,
To live up to others expectations.
Fly Freedom Airlines day and night.
And show us your innermost light.
5/28/2019
10am PSt
it is a nightmare and a terrible place
a confrontation, a quick draw, frightful conclusion
glass: empty of illusion
a pagan deity whose hard eyes shall drink you in
and spit
and run over you
like an obnoxious lorry
or through you
as a plough
at this abandoned carnival marooned in the undesirable
wilds and the nonorgasmic
riffs of ticking clocks
working juju on your brain
every grasshopper is a man in the bush
where the bushes are mirrors
laughing at you/your pathetic fallacies
smart flesh
gorgeous teeth
and confident hair
awaiting dignity's end
Each piece of greenery falls to mildew.
On wood, a harsh fungus echoes sinew.
Agony squirmed and sloughed in my body
Then, all tumble, I grieve and feel guilty.
Glare from sunlight is gentler than rougher
Neither full nor snares my kindness, ever.
In this skirmish, there is a yearly brawl.
Yet, Vivid lights will no longer dazzle.
My feet will at last splash out all I've done.
Assume strolling on a once lush and shone.
The thrills strike my spirit and shred the core.
And then sing the fall in calm voice ashore.
You adorn your womb and lure us each year.
Yet, the loathsome frost's weep I overhear.
Written: December 11, 2021
1st place contest winner.
Sonnet's Salutation Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Nine months of darkness,
Snow on the ground,
No leaves on the trees,
No warmth around.
As the winter comes to a close,
Lakes and rivers still seem froze,
Soon the waters will break free,
Moving life far as eyes can see,
And now its time to have some fun,
Playing under the Alaskan sun.
Rivers are running , bears now conscious,
Birds a flutter, fish obnoxious,
Breathing in the summer air,
Floating down the river bare,
Baggie of green, cooler filled supreme,
Almost as if, it were all a dream.
When I look back, old and grey,
I'll remember the nights and days,
When we found euphoria under the Alaskan sun.
A Monotetra
I moved into a haunted house,
the ghost there was, an obnoxious louse.
he’d sneak up on me like a mouse,
my hair he’d touse, my hair he’d touse.
My best underwear, he hides,
he’s a pervert, I surmise,
gives me a daily surprise,
patience he tries, patience he tries.
He’ll watch me as I’d get undressed,
oh he’s such an obnoxious pest,
he jokes about my naked breasts,
my friends attest, my friends attest.
He likes to tease my ancient cat,
flapping ‘round him like a bat,
as irritating as a gnat,
obnoxious pratt, obnoxious pratt.
I cannot stop this irritant,
my patience, it is quickly spent,
an apartment I’ll have to rent,
or live in tent, or live in tent.
His trickery is just so rife,
with misery and such strife,
why doesn’t he go irritate wildlife,
he plays a fife, he plays a fife.
Keeps me awake, I cannot sleep,
spews adjectives that need be bleeped,
I wish I could just can that creep,
such joy I’d reap, such joy I’d reap.
I have carried you through every season of my life,
Yet you remain the stranger I know best.
I bear your name like a heavy, golden crest;
I dance within your skin, smile through your cheeks,
And measure the world through the stride of your feet.
But in the quiet, I doubt if I have ever truly met you.
You are a house of many rooms, some dark, some bright.
A quiet introvert, huddled in the shadows of a thought,
Then suddenly a soaring extrovert, craving the light.
You are obnoxious in your boldness,
Yet your hands are the first to open in quiet generosity.
I revere the lion in your courageous spirit,
But I am driven to madness by the coward who hides behind it.
You are the monk who seeks the eternal,
And the merchant obsessed with the material.
You are the wit that sets the room ablaze with laughter,
And the silence that makes the air turn cold and boring.
I carry the weight of your frame,
I see the horizon through the lens of your wide eyes,
And I stand tall in your five-foot-eleven height—
But as I pose in your skin, I am lost in the search.
You are the loyal friend, the trustworthy anchor,
A man who loves with a passion that consumes.
Yet, within you lives the ghost who hates and segregates,
The saint who touches the heavens,
And the sinner who rots in the earth.
Who are you sir?
Who am I?