Long Piffle Poems
Long Piffle Poems. Below are the most popular long Piffle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Piffle poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s amazing how a simple glass of wine,
Can unleash a hidden thought or meaning
You’d think as much as I’ve consumed in life,
I would have a tome that’s gleaming
Full of wise, sagacious oratory
Of thoughts that help the mind
But maybe it’s all piffle, of the wrong kind
You see it’s a very simple thing,
If you’re a writer from the heart
It doesn’t matter how or if you cloud it,
It may someday become someone’s art
God has provided us one of many bounties, the grape
That sometimes helps unleash the sometimes hidden shape
Of some very blessed minds from the most blessed of us all
It may be a way to help reach our true selves, or sometimes break through a wall
So now that I’ve made this potentially absurd assertion
It’s time to prove the theory, with some not so perfect allocution
Of some wise, thoughtful insight into a single glass of wine
For without passion and effort in the making
It may not enable the divine
So maybe try a glass of the fermented grape
When next you feel the block of the writer,
And when others read your work thereafter,
Things may turn out brighter.
Behold the Pied Piper has tossed his pipe belatedly in the trash
Having led folks down some garden paths he trousered wads of cash
Dollars, pounds, euros, rolls of wallpaper - the currency didn’t matter
He gathered countless cretins, enchanted by piffle and patter
From sound suburban Ruislip to Henley-on-the-Thames
This piper sprinkled magic dust and never made amends,
His tunes were quite eccentric but they made the voters dance
Cycling round the capital his prospects to advance
Now the pipes have fallen silent (I wish this event came sooner)
Though he tried many instruments, he never bought a tuner
Cast-off from the orchestra, a wayward minstrel now unseated
His lies have all been rumbled, and on radio repeated
Considering his record, he enjoyed a lengthy stint,
While friendly foreign editors found his comments fit-to-print
The piper told his followers, “Pack your bags and let us roll
It might be a path of brambles but we’ll be taking back control.”
At last his pipes are broken, there are pieces in the bin,
We count excuses and denials that with hindsight look so thin,
People run-for-cover as they see their hero beaten
Coping with defeat is not a subject taught at Eton.
Folks more sophisticated than me might say I ain't got no couth, I suppose,
But I ain't a fan of Bach, Liszt and Mozart nor the music they compose!
Spare me the screechin' violins, growlin' cellos and twitterin' piccolos,
The rumblin' bassoons, the thunderin' timpani and the odious oboes!
Seems the woodwinds, strings, brass and percussion do their own thing,
Renderin' ramblin' and atonal piffle - no pleasure to mine ear doth it bring!
I'd rather listen ad infinitum to Elva Ruby Miller's shrill and off-key renditions,
Than suffer the agony of a two-hour symphony by professional musicians!
Two Words – Redux One
Thumb
Finger
Hand
Foot
Toe
Toes
Blunder
Thunder
Seam
Beam
Stupidity
Contagious
Intelligence
Desired
Planets
Stars
Venus
Mars
Milky
Way
Iambic
Rhyme
Real
Divine
Curve
Time
Nose
Ears
Sticks
Styx
Bald
Hairy
Baloney
Piffle
Top
Bottom
Trump
Mussolini
Charlatan
Fascist
Sun
Mercury
Cosmic
Certitude
Mad
Man
She
Monster
Eyes
Flies
Turd
Bird
Money
Desire
Fruit
Empire
Pain
Pane
Brain
Drain
Red
Blue
Tie
Shoe
Gun
Bullet
Fun
Bun
Wind
Rain
All
Same
Drugs
Thugs
Atwill
Actor
Lamarr
Actress
Snot
Plot
Rasputin
Putin
Monk
Dictator
Zombie
Walking
Run
Bum
Much
Talk
Franklin
Adams
Madison
Monroe
History
Record
Fake
News
Some
Say
Bale
Hay
Right
Way
Not
Today
Toe
Jam
Computer
Scam
Earthen
Dam
Heaven
Hell
Magic
Spell
Athena
Bubo
Perseus
Andromeda
Poseidon
Kraken
Action
Motion
Yes
No
Yup
Nope
Submarine
Scope
Bismarck
Battleship
Gloom
Doom
Titanic
Tomb
Job
Rob
Bank
Banc
Anne
Frank
Humpty
Dumpty
Big
Egg
Stand
Tall
Rick
Ugarte
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
July 22, 2018 (Short-Form Free Verse)
I looked out my window and what did I see?
A pretty little bird smiling back at me
I said, “Hello little friend, how are you?”
“Not bad,” he said, “but I've got the flu!”
Told him I've got this great remedy
Although it might make some birds unsteady
It should get rid of those nasty old sniffles
Here's all you do, it's easy, piffle-piffle
Sing that old favourite, “My Darling Clementine”
Then dunk your head in a vat of red wine
When you come back up, all gasping and stuff
Check to make sure you stayed down long enough
Still got the sniffles? Well dive down again
Till the sniffles are gone and then, my friend
You'll need to lie down, don't try to fly
You'll run into things and get poked in the eye
After a good sleep, you'll be good as new
But you'll need red wine whatever you do
I'm afraid you'll be known as the “Wine-O Bird!”
With the prettiest voice the world's ever heard!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Denying reality not to feel guilty,
doesn't mean being free of misery;
he sits alone and grumbles, he detests
the pathetic glances they flash at him!
He fills his tall glass to the brim...
and spitss out all the untold truths!
Losing what was dear to him is another piffle,
a thing without value that suggests intimidation;
what makes him happy is aiming his sharp rifle
to threaten who doesn't share his conviction.
Some shut their mouths, many run;
dying at the hands of a violent man
may take their life as he pulls the trigger,
turns into a beast, shouting with anger.
Has he ever read the Holy Bible that forbids murder?
Punishment doesn't apply to him: he's the predator;
and he punishes whom he thinks is responsible
for his misfortunes and loves to see him tremble!
The predator will face the Judge and the Jury,
they will convict him and throw away the key;
ah, taking a human life is eternal damnation:
there's no escape from such condemnation!
Oh, come now - since life is full of care
and the woodland path is wanting wear;
and the trees of spring must needs be seen
as winter’s grey is sprayed with green.
Van dyke said: ‘walk a mile with me’,
but let us go further and then we’ll see
how the foot is connected to the jaw and tongue
and the track can move the lip and lung.
We’ll tread pleasantries and leave them behind.
As amble turns ramble, we’ll clear out our mind
of piffle and fluff - chit-chat and chatter -
and at last get to speaking of the things that matter.
Gasping with effort, we’ll listen to the other;
clarify our reasons and, when home, discover -
though the debate and the way were difficult and rough -
we’ll agree we have not yet walked quite enough.
Queen of Dark She is !
Peeping through the Window
I glean upon the Stupendous glory night
He or She I don’t know
Who it could be
To think it would be a
Stumper Question
Yet I like to call her ‘She’
Queen of dark she is !
She is my friend
She knows me well
To her only I share my secret
She is Inquisitive
Even though I talk Piffle
She won’t say I am flippant
When the peep of the day
Wakes me up
I find that she went back home.
After the ages long wait
for the Evening to pass
Here comes my companion
Dashing through those twilight
Stupendous she is
Inquisitive she is
Stupor I am
sleep in her lap
2/4/19
"Nothing Else To Add"
Thinking clearly
I wrote this sincerely
From the one you regard dearly
Nearly
Everybody having theories
Times getting eerie
Yearly
It didn't always turn out ideally
She really
Wanted to get touchy and feely
Telling me how she could heal me
After I did some wheelies
Next she said feel free
To take her up on the deal and see
Soon she'd reveal the key
For both parties it was beneficial
And rather simple
Not no piffle
Yeah I said it
There's no need to edit
It's becoming pathetic
Far too many
Being petty
Filled with envy
Get ahead or fall behind
On the move, or soon to unwind
Saw it coming, or being blind
Struggling, or doing fine
Missing or seeing the sign
Not thinking or using your mind
Being rude or kind
Can't be sad
Had
To get after what I didn't have
No matter if I was doing bad
Sure , life can be sad
But I'm not staying mad
I got to give it a stab
If it's something I want to grab
Still glad
I don't care about any fad
There's nothing else to add
Denying reality not to feel guilty,
doesn't mean being free of misery;
he sits alone, he grumbles, he detests
the pathetic glances they flash at him;
he fills his tall glass to the brim...
and spit out all the untold truths!
Losing what was dear to him is another piffle,
a thing without value that suggests intimidation;
what makes him happy is aiming his sharp rifle
and threaten who doesn't share his conviction.
Some shut their mouths, many run;
dying at the hands of a violent man
may take their life as he pulls the trigger,
turns into a beast, shouting with anger.
Has he ever read the Holy Bible that forbids murder?
Punishment doesn't apply to him: he's the predator;
and he punishes whom he thinks is responsible
for his misfortunes and loves to see him tremble!