Long Pompous Poems
Long Pompous Poems. Below are the most popular long Pompous by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pompous poems by poem length and keyword.
He told us that he was a life coach.
What is your training? I asked. I had never heard of this.
I was trained by life.
So …..no training whatsoever
Yet he is charging people a hundred dollars an hour?
Can they bill their insurance?
They can try.
Will their insurance pay it?
I doubt it.
What do you teach people to do?
Enjoy life. Here is my card. Recommend me to your friends.
He was self-assured to ridiculously pompous and arrogant.
I took ten cards; to get them out of the hands of others.
He was exceedingly pleased and offered me fifty cents
for each person who came with a card and told him I had recommended him.
Give me ten more cards I said.
His smile was wider than the state of California is long.
I was amazed that he could not tell by my face what I was thinking.
I guess his life experience is not as complete as he thinks.
Psychoanalysis
Vanity and ecstasy overwhelm the minds of people
Who gloat with conceit and display
Pompous arrogance as they parade themselves
Before the public as chosen vessels for behavioural
Rewards, determined by themselves as acceptable
To indulge in the belittling of others!
This defines their existence as noble in cause.
When they, the elite, rendezvous with fate
And perceive themselves to be unique,
Superior beings segregated from those
Who are weak-minded and susceptible
To interpretations and suggestions;
Who have no reason to exist, nor possess
Finesse attributes, and cannot be distinguished
From the herd mentality by the intellectual process
Of their egotistic minds—or so they think!
This precarious attitude can be judgmental
And dissociating; it invites dismal consequences.
Out of touch with reality and full of themselves,
They gallivant through branches in the tree of knowledge
And haphazardly arrive at false conclusions.
Based on a biased perception of the world
That only they can understand as rational,
It gives credence to psychoanalysis.
Sound familiar? And so you hope
Others will be hoodwinked by your antics
Into believing you are nonchalant when,
In actuality, you are stressed out and nervous
To be discovered as introverted.
You will not acquiesce to truthful criticism.
It is a depraved mind that derives pleasure
From the dissection of another.
He was the most puffed up keeper of the meadow they had ever had.
They had nominated him for a joke, he was an arrogant, pompous cad.
He thought it was real, and ran for mayor and governor too.
We called him High Horse Harry, the goose who always wore blue.
He had a fine top hat with a ribbon round its band.
He wore an azure blue vest that was the talk of the land.
The deer were the only animals who thought Harry was real.
The rest of us poked fun of him, for he was a boastful heel.
The rest of the state did not realize this was a joke.
They actually voted for Harry, and elected the bloke.
Mayor H. is now more arrogant than ever, with a pocket watch too.
On his way to becoming governor, wearing his pompous prissy blue.
Dreamt I had the power
To turn back Hand’s ungodly hours
Bending backwards to the beginning
To the Time before time... before all the sinning
To Genesis, The Garden of Eden
I walked and talked with Adam and soon to be “Eve”
So pure and innocent, so natural in their nudity
The Air still full of Thy scent
Not stagnate like now full of absinth
It smelt of Heavenly breath, everything blessed
No pollution nor any pompous political ripened fruition
No ins or outs of institutions, no constant constipation
Only my endless awe of undulating ovations
Not a smudge of stink... before all extinctions could brink
And with that thought, the Serpent greets me too
And without a thought, I chopped it up in two
Into a stew, a brew, a compost pile of goo
But why stop there, have no fear it’s true
I chopped that tree of good and evil knowledge too
Into firewood, soon to come to flame
Burn the fruit of fame
Burn the fruit, give a hoot
Cook the snake into poetrysoup
Only to be awakened
“Wow, that was lucid!”
I feel as if my soul’s been shaken
I give a real big cat-stretch exclusive
Then sigh, “If only...”
I meander to my bedroom window
Looking out to see... reality
But I can’t believe my eyes
What is this... this can't be true?
There’s trillions of the children
Of Adam and Believe (the wife's new name)'s seed
Earth is still Eden though a garden beyond belief
The sky's a deep royal blue not grey
Everyone’s dancing with blissful grins
Everyone ignorant of sin
Why everyone is spanking nude today!
Who cares!? Everyone’s alive!
Everyone, naturally high
Then, it hits me... I done did it
No one's ever died or dies
Time is not justly counted by increments...
like a pie all crust can have space without filling
it disappoints –
too much wasted by reluctant planning –
few visions of living ever leaving the station of
Excursion – like a dynasty of tempting brochures culminating in
tenure, that far more brave and less credentialed travel faithfully
outright...
Triumph's Reckless Youth vs Pompous Charted Night
such licensed surveyors expose dark by tiny bits called
stars, seeing only seconds, oblivious to stuffed longer
gigantic days' leaps packed into uncharted universes
time shallowly used is soul
and spirit only outside basted,
exterior roast__toast
while the bloody inside
left yearning release,
for its surface~ burning!
when time is too contemplated,
measured, set in plates of orderly
rations – seasoned but only tasted
(a belly denied lumps of glutenous
impulsive passions)
it is a written novel
with no real claims
to glory....
Time then...is only Time
dimly expressing God's timeless
true story
I shall mould thee
Saidth the board
To be adorned
Forever and ever
Red pigment
Which with
Cement looks like
Clay
I shall mould thee
That ye shall stand
Forever
Throughout eternity
Forever and a day
Georgia an alkal
Fiber mesh
The winds and rain
Stand to ah-test
Wakes and Papahanaumoku
Shall recreate the world
to bring it to anew
Bonus beneath me
The name of earth
Annada the dieti
To have birth
Thin stone veneer stone
A boarded tyveked Cobb
To pompous and arrogant
Like a snob
Kaulu the trickster
To ah-test
Of it's beauty one
Must confess
Each corner
Supports the other
Under a storms
And sun
Each day a new day
We as one
May tranquility reign and grace your Thanksgiving board this year,
As you thank the Good Lord for all the blessings you hold dear!
I pray that it will be a time of good cheer and not a free-for-all,
As in the dysfunctional family described below, ending in a brawl!
Grandpa said grace that rambled on interminably while stomachs growl.
Grandma had heard enough of that and poked him with a warning scowl!
Pompous Uncle Blimp boasted about the democrats winning the election,
While saner heads steered the conversation in a more innocuous direction!
Ne'er-do-well Cousin Cletus who was recently released from prison,
Wailed about being falsely imprisoned saying the cannabis wasn't his'n!
Aunt Louise complained that she didn't get the turkey gizzard as was her due!
Dad was happily sozzled having consumed too much of his homemade brew!
Little Marvin slopped gravy on grandma's prized heirloom tablecloth!
Nana screeched about controlling your brats - she was most visibly wroth!
The kid howled and mommy hugged him saying, "It was not your fault!"
In the aftermath, little was said except an occasional, "Pass the salt!"
Elbows flew and the hapless turkey's carcass was stripped clean and bare!
Grandpa removed his teeth to take a snooze, fed up with the whole affair!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Maidens often tells me she love me,
But can that truly be?
One who does not to me respect show,
But always my ideas she akimbo.
I asked my duplicate,
Whether it's a thing of my fate.
"Can someone who loves you,
Show no respect to your rule?
Can one who loves you,
View you in your seriousness as fool?
Can one who bear your affection,
Often cause you variant infections.
If truly she loves; I qoute,
Then,does she always me wrong qoute?
When my abilities toss me to speak,
Then will her mockery raise to it's peak.
She'll often mock my ingenuity,
Which pierce into my versatality.
Does she really love?
Tell me,or does she want me like a whot
shove?
'Cos by all my intuity,
I can't trace the particles of love's
conformity.
Let say she disguises,
Must she take it too far to this phases?
My quest for her personality,
Is now melting down like a scorched lead.
Tell me,does she really loves me,
Or only enjoy my spirituality?
Tell me,Tell,Tell me
Tell me, Tell, Tell me
Tell me, Tell, Tell me
For i'm pressed and squeezed like a bill.
Does she feel so pompous,
That made her conceive that i wroth her
purse?
Does her beauty stir her so hardly,
That her aroma disguist my belly.
One who i bare sickness with,
One who i share illness with.
One who my heart travels to greet,
Every hour while on thought's street.
One who i persuade 'I AM' for,
Don't even care if i fall.
Should i believe them,
Or pluck my garment at its hem?
Cos my rein did wept,
And my affection forever crept.
In search of an abode,
That will be to her a Lord.
Should i say she's by jealousy toss?
Or methink her that i her friend toast*?
Tell me,Tell,Unveil to me,
For this no more a secret.
I made 'I AM' so compassionate,
To make her edified in faith.
My intestine fought with my worms,
For the course of this maiden's norms.
But here is the tragedy,
Nay,should i say Blessing?
For this maiden of which my mouth is fixed
on,
Is the bone of bone of which i'm loan.
This stamped me on the fence,
With no idea whether to stay or hence.
For yet my shout and screams,
And affection for her is still like the tree.
But here i don't know if she truly loves,
Or if she wants to give me to the fox.
My cat is gray,
with chirps- she meows a serenade;
and she has a swagger, sashay, and sway,
believes I am her maid !
With her toy mouse she likes to parade and to prance,
and sometimes she just lays on my lap in a trance;
and will nip if given a chance,
instead of with her toys play !
She loves outside,
strutting- she has a pompous gait;
as she walks, swaggers with blustery pride,
I leap to close the garden gate !
After checking each corner she finds some shade,
but, if there is noise she comes flying to me- afraid.
Must drink my tea and my cupboards invade,
and far under bed hide !
"But no matter what, I love my cat to pieces,
and pieces and pieces . . . "
__________________________________
August 28, 2019 (Edit December 9, 2019)
Submitted to the contest, Your Favorite Animal
sponsor, Gregory Paul
As I spend as little time as possible with hard-headed pompous adults
Avoiding antiquated arrogant beliefs, often set in stubborn stone,
Avoiding inane conversations and minds that have not grown,
Consuming sweet drinks, forgoing liquor for cold chocolate malts,
Dousing my hamburger with ketchup, forgoing mayo and salts,
Laughing with purity at stories from those not completely grown,
Who often replenish and restore my ready soul until I make it home,
Spending time with children gives me optimistic, satisfactory results,
If you can’t secure a child related or not, a loving animal will have to make do.
Dogs I have met are furry, cuddly, loyal and enthusiastically eager to please.
I am just trying to explain my own personal in-touch-with-my- feelings view.
Following this lead shouldn’t be unfair to anyone you’ll ever want to squeeze.
Cats are not so willing to please; you will actually become a minion to these.
A loving dog will choose to sleep on your bed, his whole body eagerly pushing you.