Long Offing Poems
Long Offing Poems. Below are the most popular long Offing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Offing poems by poem length and keyword.
Twas the night of the Ladies League Final and the atmosphere was tense
Only two teams were competing, no loyalties allowed on the fence
There could only be one winner, the team with strongest will
And if you lost you were losers, and losing meant you were swill!
The teams were made up of eight players, all with an aim straight and true
Each woman stood there determined and each with their own point of view
Still arguments were frequent and blood was often shed
Only last week Blackout Bertha got smacked in the gob, now she’s dead!
The marker called all to order, and with a toss of a coin they were off
The Fiddler and Firkham Ladies verses the Wenches from ‘Th’owd Pig N Trough’
The Captain of the Firkham was called upon to name
the player who was starting this dangerously ill fated game.
She shouted ‘Hot Legs Hilda - will play for the Firkham pride’
she was the one who’d smacked Bertha, you know, the lass that had died!
Well ripples ran though the public and scowls came across from the Trough
But they sent out their best in ‘Fat Freida’ and suddenly the game was off!
Hilda set a steady pace, with a one and a two, double three
As she stepped back off the hockey she gave Frieda a stab in the knee
But Freida was not to be mithered she went one, double two, double five
And folks sitting round the ale tables thought, ‘We’ll none of us get out alive!’
It was plain to see from the offing that this match was doomed from the start
As each woman rankled the other with poke or cough or a fart!
Eventually the pair of them, understood that the game must be won
And Frieda left Hilda three Arrows – her Captain said, ’This’ll be fun!’
Now Hilda was a psychopath who hated to lose, yes it’s true
But what she did next took all by surprise; it came totally out of the blue
She ambled across to her handbag and pulled out a crossbow of size
And with that she let loose an arrow that hit Frieda right between eyes.
You could have heard a pin drop as Freida lifelessly fell to the floor
As her Captian straddled the bloodied corpse her face took on a look that was sore
She turned to the Firkin’s Captain and said quite resigned and all meek
‘By Heck June not another – Oh well, same time, same place next week??’
with noticeable burgeoning bosom in the offing, ahoy
this baby faced blubbery bosom beastie boy
fast becoming a bra man,
and might hire himself out
as a male wet nurse for employ
ment, cuz when stark naked on shark tank,
I behold two bopping, brewing, busting
flap jacks in search of a frying pan,
which change in my physiognomy doth annoy
but, suddenly spurring,
this ordinarily calm, cool, and collected chap
positing even a more radical income idea
changing ma name to Chester, letting hooters
get suckled, though,
methinks they qualify as milk duds
tit two siamese twin guys christened ell and roy
offering accompanied with serving of cookies,
where adipose floppy blimps
rank popular as novel cheap toy
where art though washboard stomach,
where brestworks didst sprout
as if overnight a markedly increased
from flat “Joe” six pack chest did an about
face, with squishy, mushy, and doughy
sprang up without doubt
suddenly forcing a sexual identity crisis,
which freaky phenomenon makes me wanna pout
for weird, wicked woebegone
affects the psyche of this lviii aged lout
wondering what other transitions,
this fellow may indeed be on the look out
feigning to traverse (in me mind) badgering
rugged hormonal secretion terrain akin to a girl scout
on the prowl targeting a peeping tom,
whose foolery demands clout,
thus this imposed unfair punishment,
as some half assed irreversible decree
maybe hints of other surprises,
yet tubby revealed, which haint no fallacy
possibly being brewed up by a brood
of bruiting imps of the pervert with glee
some bot sized microscopic
anti bosom buddy hood stolen the genetic key
analogous to a pesky malware,
virus, trojan horse secrete lee
scheming to transform the sexual identity of me
perhaps waking up tomorrow minus
my little peppy ***** , and behold a pussy
should such an outcome prevail,
where media papparazzi
stake out this freak of nature re:
doubling efforts erecting fortifications
in a big old sassy tree,
especially if the press
(i.e. particularly meaning Wikileaks)
discovers ability to experience infinite orgasms
converting sexual predilection into electric utility.
Yours truly snapped, popped,
and cracked his crown out cervix
(I'll spare ye the bloody graphics),
whence obstetrician able, eager, and
ready underscored with italics
to pass (think football) garden variety
wrinkled newborn asthma
noggin heralded lix
plus deux orbits ago
sported an ordinary
uneventful, nonetheless miraculous
biological secrete reproductive tricks
immediately screaming
without assistance courtesy
Gran Prix (now pronounce as pricks)
also envision Dolby surround sound
nsync with spastic kicks
'o mine straggly mostly
gangly lovely bones mox nix.
Within some nondescript
Cincinnati, Ohio hospital heed gypped
(i.e. none other than me)
thy young mother of prolonged labor
as his bony ass easily
slipped out uterine crypt
whereby with Vernix
caseosa, the waxy or cheese
he appeared made rather dipped
in tallow, thence unexpectedly whipped
minuscule fist ready to bump.
Once placenta and fetal membranes
(unnecessary as wing ding)
discharged out uterus
after birth of offspring,
and thar weren't no more
major contractions in the offing
ma mommy lovingly did cling
to her bundle of joy and bring
maternal breast I ravenously
did suckle fortunately toothless
against her tender bosom trickling
(if mammary serves me correctly)
I presently recall no iota of inkling
what events transpired, nope
no recollection about me circumcising.
Moost likely I felt Jew bull lent
glad yours truly chose decent
mother and father, which opinion
subjected to radical change,
when as grown adult child
living nonsocial under
their roof forced to hire agent
provocateur to practice sparring,
when standoff event on horizon,
which eventually begat ultimatums
their red hot poker rage spent
belittling, cursing, damning...
quiet as Unitarian Church mouse content
internalizing later smoldering
anger I needed to vent
in retrospect diminutive little boy
tied to mama's apron strings
afflicted with mental
health issues inherent
of course hindsight gleaned
social, psychological, neurological...
healthy development got rent
asunder partly explaining
why I became indigent.
No matter unseasonably
blustery March like weather
prevails across my neck of the woods
(Southeastern Montgomery County, Pennsylvania)
and across the main body
of these United States of America
particularly original Thirteen Colonies
global warming alive and well
and promises to return
with a vengeance
after station identification.
Find out pertinent ice age accouterments;
gear up as soon as possible
with suitable and necessary arctic trappings
by accessing without delay
https://icetrek.com/equipment-guide.
Researchers used data on Earth's orbit
to find the historical warm
interglacial period that looks
most like the current one
and predicted that the next ice age
would usually begin within 1,500 years.
Now back to regularly scheduled program
donned and trumpeted as poetic blurb.
Incumbent onus warrants immediate action
to stem tide of global warming
or erect breakers to thwart dire crisis,
cuz figurative and literal tsunami
in the offing gathering strength.
Plethora of humans (think overpopulation)
directly linkedin to planet Earth dire strait
re: environmental catastrophe, née debacle
teeters along brink tipping point inevitably
pitching civilization headlong into oblivion
*****sapiens (minus those living off grid)
admirably self sufficient unto themselves,
perhaps ecological intentional community
while yours truly, one guilt ridden wordsmith
laments impacting minimal carbon footprint
(courtesy these thankful little feet size nine+)
nonetheless psychological torment wracks
lovely bones garden variety/generic human
specifically comprising complex edifice me
Matthew Scott Harris riven with loathsome
abomination, constipation, indignation, et al
mustered, tethered, yoked into capitalistic,
commercialistic, consumeristic ditto et alia
versus altruistic holistic, simplistic again re:
call synonymous words regarding contrast
between belching, exhausting, and polluting
(naming three adjectives describing impact
predominantly nsync with prophetic albeit,
profit oriented profligate, profane paradigm
unleashing immense global carbon emissions.
For more details, please see my Blog dated 7th April 11
'In India, a new Revolution is in the offing'
A New Hope shown by Anna Hazare in India
A new torch is there in your hands, dear Anna Hazare*,
A torch by which you are waking up the souls
Of millions and millions of our sleeping citizens.
To wake up and to remove the curses created by many of our
Corrupt bureaucrats and down to earth polluted politicians,
Such people inspire only directly or indirectly in my country
Violence, crime, corruption, and greedy coalitions.
No words are sufficient to thank you, O soldier of Gandhi,
As by non-violence, only Gandhi wanted to change the society.
God has given you an opportunity to do something,
O bold soldier
Several hundred thousands are standing with you and
Millions would join your campaign for removing the curse of corruption,
Effecting our country and many countries of the world,
All these are the result of ever-increasing greed and misdeeds of many such bureaucrats and politicians,
Such people are ruining many countries of the world by their
Ever increasing lustful temptations for money and greed for power and pelf.
In an era when the world is facing its new Renaissance of knowledge and awakening,
We salute your guts and efforts to bring a wind of change in my country.
Just keep walking with the torch of courage and hopes you have lighted,
As millions and millions more are waiting to join your efforts or
Waiting to start a campaign like this in every country,
As all the nations of the world are facing the tortures created by unworthy bureaucrats
and politicians.
Keep the torch high to light up the nation with a new light,
Our dear soldier Anna Hazare.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 08th April 2011
Anna Hazare* . Anna Hazare is a 73 years old man and one of India's
well-acclaimed social activists. A former soldier in the Indian army,
Anna is well known and respected for upgrading the ecology and
economy of the village of Ralegan Siddhi which is located in the
drought prone Ahmednagar district of Maharashtra state
When earth was engulfed in the amniotic fluid of mother abyss,
Your power moved upon the surface of the primeval depths,
Like the coordinated contractions of myocytes in the uterine walls,
And the earth emerged like a baby expelled from its mother’s womb.
After the human race You created was plunged into a spiritual abyss by sin,
It was time for You to demonstrate Your creative power once again.
Mankind’s act of rebellion did not catch You by surprise and without a plan,
Before the foundation of the world, redemption was conceived for fallen man.
In the fullness of time You sent Your Son, implanted in a virgin’s womb,
Like Adam’s race He must experience the darkness of the watery tomb,
And then be expelled by the powerful contractions of the uterine wall,
Because the purpose of His coming was to rescue mankind from the fall.
From the moment He emerged from the womb, the battle with evil was enjoined,
The lives of many infants were sacrificed in an effort by king Herod to destroy His,
O what cruel irony that one in need of rescue would seek to kill his rescuer,
And that the redeemer will be rejected and annihilated by those He came to save.
From the elevated position on a cross, He was then placed in the darkness of a tomb,
Reminiscent of His condescension from perfect heaven to sinful earth,
But death and the tomb could not restrain the Creator of heaven and earth and life,
On first day of the week, with life that was within Him, He arose victorious over death.
So, for us lost and wretched creatures, trapped in a prison of sin.
There is good news in the offing for the Savior is about to return,
Not as babe in Bethlehem’s manger, but as Lord of Lords and King of Kings,
With healing and salvation in His glorious and mighty wings.
To accept God’s plan of salvation and experience peace and joy within,
You must turn from your life of rebellion and accept His sacrifice for your sin,
And then the Holy Spirit He will give you, to guide, transform and help you,
Gain victory over sin and be ready to spend eternity with Him.
As a bouncing baby boy
syne of tragic travails in the offing tolled
courtesy analogous bell think Pavlov's employ;
yours truly me mama's apron strings rolled
secure around stubby fingers brought joy
created and garnered webbed wold
between she who helped beget me thru ploy
constituting biological reproduction.
Peter Pan syndrome
not recognized as bonafide diagnosis
encapsulates mein kampf and hard times,
whereby mine childhood's end
dreaded, linkedin and thwarted adulthood
courtesy Anorexia nervosa
(long before said illness
the popular rage
during roaring (2000) twenties
mainly among females)
as feeble attempt to avoid
transitioning into manhood
evidenced today upon
cusp of twilight (zone) years,
when dark shadows (albeit psychological)
metaphorically house these lovely bones
id est twenty first century caveman
with stunted body, mind and spirit.
I feel invisibly chained
to mine early days of yore,
an idealized stage since nostalgia tore
at short lived mettlesome breastplate
activating devastating - festering civil war
leaving seeds of potential emasculation
these approximate three score
years since exiting birth canal,
when both parents in their prime
tickled pink and enthralled
with choice of lifelong paramour.
Renee Cardone therapist
associated with SpringFord school district
doxyme portal allows, enables,
and provides telemedicine
cited how I, a long haired
pencil necked geek aging baby boomer
essentially lives marginal existence
self, constricted, hobbled, quarantined...
since... majority of half dozen plus decades
brought forth upon terrestrial firmament
circumscribing outer limits,
when on January 13th, 19xx
one strong contraction
I ain't kidding ousted
future adverbial, he/him one wily wordsmith
makes period dick exclamation,
viz noun sensible, proverbial...,
who dangled me like a participle,
(hence obstetrician put the scare
of wuthering heights
within yours truly)
well seasoned whippersnapper,
who frolicked in summer re:
amidst the purple rain.
And yet Affleck’s Bruce Wayne is an arrogant bully whose disturbing sexual comments towards Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman mark him out as a man with a problematic moral compass. And did you swallow the bit where his realisation of a human connection with Superman (their mothers both share the Christian name Martha) saw Batman instantly switch from readying himself to kill Kal-El to heading off to save his opponent’s mum from certain death? And can we forgive him for nearly offing the greatest superhero in comics in time for a double whammy of Snyder-directed Justice League movies in 2017 and 2018?
Jeremy Irons: ‘I have the natural tendency of a benign dictator’
Jesse Eisenberg’s wacky weirdo Lex Luthor
Jesse Eisenberg’s Luthor is a bizarrely unhinged creature, fascinating to watch and with some splendid, operatic lines of dialogue. But what is the motivation for his hatred of Superman and apparent obsession with other superhumans? I’ve read suggestions that Luthor’s determination to kill off the man of steel stems from a sense of youthful victimhood at the hands of his overbearing father. But even that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.
Was Eisenberg hoping to achieve the kind of radical reinvention of a classic DC supervillain that saw Heath Ledger win a posthumous Oscar for his turn as the Joker? If so, he had Batman v Superman’s screenwriters as willing accomplices to the crime.
It now seems a big ask for Eisenluthor to become the DC Comics universe’s big, bad-guy puppet master. Yet the movie’s final scenes suggest that was the fast-crumbling plan.
'There’s a lot to be worried about': a comics geek's verdict on Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Ben Affleck is great and Wonder Woman nearly steals the show, but there’s plenty in Zack Snyder’s mash-up to make superfans fret. Including, film-maker’s Kryptonite!: very bad writing
http://www.gandhis.com/overloadngz-watch-full-batman-v-superman-dawn-of-justice-online-movie/
Should We Cower in Life's Castles?
I can hate things you value and still think you're worthy
of friendship, of honor, though we disagree,
but communities call for reciprocal action;
I can't tie your hands and pretend you're not me!
Yes, agreements are great (all votes equal and counted)
where power's not worshiped (that's sure that it's right).
Truths exist (some more likely), like "all men are sinners,"
like men are dim boobs who believe they've birthed 'light!'
Let's not live safe in castles and call this world peaceful,
not lock loved ones out of the fears and the dreams
all have doubts they are up to, share crayons with strangers
who'd color worlds' futures (give thought to their schemes!)
Let's eschew thoughts that 'tribes' bring us safety through numbers,
mob's strong-arm, 'group think' aren't great paths hearts can choose,
that religious 'faith' questioned means we're undeserving,
that Grace must get earned if one's soul's not to lose!
First, comes chicken or egg? Truth's mankind had ONE mother
whose progeny flourished (her rivals -decay?)
Call her 'Eve' if it pleases, 'precursor to human,'
who rose from 'star's dust' (that the Bible calls "clay")
if 'God' called shots or not! Truth's that Christ claimed this early,
"all men are your brothers," and 'race' seems 'trash talk'
of small minds (when it's voiced for advantage!) Truth's Science,
too, echoes faint models! What's "TRUE" is God's lock!
Evolution shines bright (hides God's heart in its shadows)
in shadows meandering billions of years
back to date we can't ken yet though someday our heirs might.
'Fixed stars' (like 'flat earth') are a joke (God's in tears?)
If I knew one sure thing, then I might be less humble!
I don't (though night's stars seem much grander than me!)
So I dream that there's more (that God's Love's in the offing)
and love of dear friends is all I need to see!
Brian Johnston
17th of December in 2022
For so long you’ve held the key, the scepter and the crown,
Harrowing the reality, the subconscious, the deep within.
Your voice was deep, poignant, forbidding. Clattering like,
The tumbling down of ancient and spidery bones, swishing
Like the dust raised by warm nocturnal winds above the grave,
Of underneath whose cold stone, you speak.
I’ve held on to these, the pain most notably, the curse of living,
Clung to it as one would a shepherd’s staff. I was bleating, you, stoic,
An anguished ghost whose wispy façade slashes through the ages,
Thru generations of minds in the offing of torment. The honored
Priest above my chasm and dreams, whose scepter whirls an order,
to the bottomless chaos, defining, refining.
Such morbidity, such dusky frights and ebon like chill, thawing,
turning ductile the mind’s seams to enable comprehension
of misery, for one, for two and for as long as dreaded numbers
Could gnaw, could go and would soar. And then dreadfully and
just as suddenly, fall. But always finds in the descent kindred misery,
Again and again spewing thermals for tattered wings.
Aye, my friend, you’ve enabled these, I followed your grim lead too,
Debauched a day, or two, or three. I honestly can’t remember anymore.
When you despoiled your body did you lose your soul? I asked this
Because mine never was. It was never lost. But you, aside from being
a friend, are a terrible despot. For you bound my soulful core, right
after you cried over lost grains of golden sand.
Alas, when you failed to save even one of these grains from your
Clasp, why the need to wail and ask if all that we see or seem,
Is but a dream within a dream? Why cast eternal umbrae over
Those sojourns which aside from your company lifts my weary
Psyche? Those twilight times when I can escape and open the
Drain in the reality of my life?