Long Prattling Poems
Long Prattling Poems. Below are the most popular long Prattling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Prattling poems by poem length and keyword.
Gangly Longfellow walled in Thoreau and thru...
Well stocked with
wordsworth lxiii numbered yesteryear
born as predicted by
bubba's zayda longtime seer
while in utero premier
ultrasound detected
smudged embryonic fetus
whoosh auditory proto language unclear
surprisingly enough sounded analogous
to murmuring... huh yepper sonneteer
vaguely resembling, yes
William Shakespeare
though burbling, gurgling,
requiring absolute zero noise to hear
kickstarting, reverently warbling
difficult, diligent, distinct yawping,
nonetheless reckoned as dérailleur,
viz swiftly tailored
inchoate anatomical gear
hurriedly and harriedly styled
pièce de résistance
yours truly born with silver dictionary
in his mouth, I f***'* swear
unusual biological phenomena
drew pediatricians far and near,
which (no surprise) determined
English major as academic career
matriculating upon immediately
exiting birth canal whip smart derriere
i.e. (ŧ§), spread like wildfire, where
media hounds blitzkrieg stunned to stare
not at me but bare
naked lady in no mood...ready to tear
away sophisticated audiovisual equipment
understandably on verge going nuclear
furious, (this told me later in life as here
say), she quickly (albeit groggily)
curtly demanded fair
remuneration, and milked
infant me as cash cow profiteer,
her eyes aglitter signaling,
shining, seeing... gold
let whoever sneer
earning money with initial gasp of air
freeing parents to live
within lap of luxury
world wide web sightseer,
yours truly received
royal carpet treatment everywhere
crisscrossing the globe
accoutered with most
expensive designer babywear
obliviously prattling, jabbering, gabbling...
invariably drawing throngs
across entire northern hemisphere
broadcast as podcast across atmosphere
all across the universe hoodwinking
convincing many of "FAKE" poetic story
concoction courtesy adept fictioneer.
Saša Milivojev
WELTSCHMERZ ("WORLD PAIN") - THE PAIN OF THE WORLD
In this century withal
Rivers of blood still flow
Bombs echo
Children are being killed
Heads are being severed
Millions are starving
Diseases are devouring
And you are singing
The gallows are trembling
In the valley of the fallen
In the salty tears
With our putrescent sores
We fall prey to the crows
Our festering entrails
For the starving wolves
A shattered house
Little boy is weeping
Over the body of his Father
That forever now is sleeping
Schools Temples and bridges bleeding
bloodstained wedding guests are screaming
Little white coffins
Maternal howls
Above Uranus
Hear the painful growls
Delirious poets are prattling
And not a word are you uttering
They blinded you
When they raped your daughter
Strangled ‘er with the wire
They abducted your brothers
Tortured in the cellar
Shattered their fingers
With ferrous clubs
With a saw agape their skulls
Their legs wagons lacerated
Their limbs with machete dissected
Flayed the skin of their backs
Dumpers of corpses
Bulldozers to the grave consigned
Roads run over their bones in cement confined
Bodies filled the bottomless well over the brim
Come closer
Look within
The infinite darkness of the abyss
To hear the silence of the universe
A spark is glistening in an innocent eye
Children are helplessly falling to the dust
Venomous saliva dripping from their mouth
As their rosy intumescent faces bust
In their closing prayer
Reverends to a cross immured
Laughing at the stake they burned
Tender ivory cherubs
Flew away like a flock of birds
Rip my heart out from my chest
As I am unsleeping
May your golden ship catch wind away from shore
To raise your glass of blood once more
As you feast your eyes in silence
Saša Milivojev
Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
visit: www.sasamilivojev.com
Gangly longfellow thoreau and thru...
Well stocked with
wordsworth lx numbered yesteryear
born as predicted by
bubba's zayda longtime seer.
While in utero premier
ultrasound detected
smudged embryonic fetus
whoosh auditory proto language unclear
surprisingly enough sounded analogous
to murmuring... huh yepper sonneteer
vaguely resembling, yes
William Shakespeare
though burbling, gurgling,
requiring absolute zero noise to hear
kickstarting, reverently warbling
difficult, diligent, distinct yawping
nonetheless reckoned as dérailleur,
viz swiftly tailored
inchoate anatomical gear
hurriedly styled pièce de résistance
yours truly born with silver dictionary
in his mouth, I f¨ç°ˆ˜© swear
unusual biological phenomena
drew pediatricians far and near,
which (no surprise) determined
English major as academic career
matriculating upon immediately
exiting birth canal whip smart derriere
i.e. (ŧ§), spread like wildfire, where
media hounds blitzkrieg stunned to stare
not at me but bare
naked lady in no mood...ready to tear
away sophisticated audiovisual equipment
understandably on verge going nuclear
furious, (this told me later in life as here
say), she quickly (albeit groggy)
curtly demanded fair
remuneration, and milked
infant me as cash cow profiteer,
her eyes aglitter signaling,
shining, seeing... gold
let whoever sneer
earning money with initial gasp of air
freeing parents to live
within lap of luxury
world wide web sightseer,
yours truly received
royal carpet treatment everywhere
crisscrossing the globe
accoutered with most
expensive designer babywear
obliviously prattling, jabbering, gabbling...
invariably drawing throngs
across entire northern hemisphere
broadcast as podcast across atmosphere
all across the universe hoodwinking
convincing many of "FAKE" poetic story
concoction courtesy adept fictioneer.
There's one who acts like a righteous queen
Prattling peacock, she loves to pose and preen
She is surly and gruff
Heckling slurs with a huff
And denouncing the life-saving vaccine
The haughty queen is quite aloof
and sometimes she acts like a goof
Should she be on trial
For covid denial
Believe me, I’ve seen lots of proof
She's favored by one, her Prince Demonic
He bows to her highness, Queen Sardonic
Praising her fortitude
Conspiring to collude
Feeding her compliments that are moronic
Her majesty thinks she was perfect at birth
Pompously aggrandizing her self worth
It's tritely ironic
Her hubris is chronic
She's filled with bitterness but little mirth
Prince Dom is seeking attention
Pining for the Queen’s affection
Their words are debunked
They both have been plunked
So much for the Queen’s perfection
The old Queen stood tall and haughty,
Gawking at me, judging me naughty.
Expected me to bow
And she called me a sow,
I refused, calling her throne a potty.
Anonymous PS poet
Our soups matriarch, started an almighty feud
By decreeing she's perfect, the queen of her brood
This flawless diamond
Reigns on Shutter Island
Even insane Leonardo's, pleading to be moved
Another anonymous ps poet
The queen poses behind a shadowy façade
Thinking she is perfect before Almighty God
Disgusting as a wicked witch
Cannot locate a worthy niche
Here among good poetry mortals of the sod.
Yet another anonymous ps poet
Jan Allison and Mark Koplin have joined me in this limerick collaboration. We're not telling who wrote which verse, but you're welcome to guess.
If anyone wishes to join in this collaboration, please send me your addition through soup mail.
...It came two weeks later when Bud Biandi,
got his throat slashed in his garage.
He’d directed Cody in four hit films,
and made him part of his entourage,
but complaints against him had been lodged,
that like Sidelton, he could be handsy,
rumor said he made young actors antsy.
And now the media begins to circle,
looking for their next feeding frenzy,
content to ignore the entire affair
when it was not online and trending,
they’re not looking for happy endings.
They would shed no tears for whoever was next,
this murdered isn’t after their necks.
And now on television and online,
a washed-up actor is outpouring,
telling how he once worked with Cody,
and heard stories of touching abhorrent,
it all spills out in a torrent.
All these tales of ancient wrongs,
can they never let bygones be bygone?
These people will never understand
how things work in Hollywood.
They won’t understand how things are,
they just cling to old concepts, like ‘good,’
prattling on about 'should-nots' and 'shoulds.'
They just don’t see that really living life
means sometimes pushing beyond wrong and right.
Sidelton, Biandi, and I did nothing
particularly unusual on our sets,
And Cody said nothing, in fact I think
he was glad to be part of it,
eager for the roles he would get.
Was it really such a high price to pay,
for him to have such success at a young age?
Besides, who cares so many years on
if stuffy legislators say that it’s ‘rape,’
Even if some think we crossed a line,
it does not justify this cruel rampage,
Killing for justice is not the way—
Hold up, I heard something down below,
I think somebody just smashed my window…
What the…Cody?!
How?! I mean you—I though you were—
Wait, no! Hold on! Stop! No, NO—
World gone mad
Shots are fired, young kids expired
Schools are closed, no educators hired
Diseases spread, haven't you read
Land mines sown, too scared to tread
Where will it end, this world gone mad
The seas a mess, plastic detest
Clean the pollution, the only solution
Elephants, rhino, a homeless wino
Corruption rules, a madman drools
Where will it end, this world gone mad
The wilderness is tamed, the land all claimed
Oil prices falling, temperatures soaring
Bombs blasting, religious fasting
Third world dictators, forever asking
Where will it end, this world gone mad
Guns for sale, train left the rail
Planes falling, black boxes calling
Cities flood, covered in mud
Migrants marching, hope ever lasting
Where will it end, this world gone mad
A world of dread, monster under my bed
Famine unfolds, stories untold
A mother mourning, a daughter calling
No food to be fed, she'll soon be dead
Where will it end, this world gone mad
Sabers rattling, old men prattling
Wars unfold, soldiers grow bold, broken returning
Cowards at war, a broken door
Nuclear waste, left in haste
Where will it end, this world gone mad
Seas are rising, not surprising
Glaciers melt, the heat not felt.
Politicians yawning, fish not spawning
Whales dead, harpoon in the head
Were will it end, this world gone mad
Fossil fuels heating, Opec meeting
Nothing resolved, riches unfold
What have we learnt, the forest all burnt
Climate is failing, our children be wailing
Were will it end, this world gone mad
What can we do, dead gorilla in the zoo
Ignorant youth, electronics a hoot
Eight billion people on a planet for two
Who's the boss, I'm at a loss
Were will it end, this world gone mad
The enemy of progress
those whose blood is hostile
and their eyes hold a sword
to the relative
to the friends
who are below them in possession
those who fail to give arms
to the needy
and specs of greed stick to their eyes
for crispy wish for wanting more
The enemy of progress
those who rain of mercy
in their eyes
cannot splash on the family
nor the relative
the good to the outsider
The enemy of progress
the generous whose generosity
is like pouring water
in an already filled container
those whose generosity
are to the rich
not to the needy
The enemy of progress
the salary collector
who leaves work
to a co-worker
or to another person
under the guess segregation
and take seat one on one
for prattling
with the congenial workers
The enemy of progress
able men and women
that ought to work
but embrace laziness
able boys and girls -
graduate
who ought to learn handiwork
or that ought to farm
farming for the society
farming for the community
farming for the state
farming for the nation
and the world at large
but rummaging the city
years after years
waiting for white cola job
The enemy of progress are those
who hail big man in exotic car
with expectation of token amount
The enemy of progress
the young who are dogs of the rich---
the politician
those whose work is to bend
and assassinate
for their masters to have
their way
The enemy of progress
You and I
that segregate
in the family
in the society
in the community
in the state
in the tribe
and the continent
The enemy of progress
You and I
that in one way or the other
causing obstruction
to the well develop
of a friend
society
community
state
tribe
and continent
"Though old and dilapidated, one's dear home can never be empty. It will be full of memories- sweet and sour- a snapshot out of time that talks aloud of happy memories. Even amid the hovering gloom, it emanates a sweet fragrance of love and warmth" ~ By Poet
To this decrepit house,
with walls well worn,
I come so often in my memory.
Once it throbbed with life
but now lies deserted.
It was built with experienced hands,
brick on brick with the cement of love,
within whose walls, we were born and bred,
crying and whining, prattling and laughing.
Here we shared a thousand mingled thoughts,
a hundred hopes, dreams and fears.
Saw the dawn of placid summer morns,
and the descent of cold winter nights.
The ones who lived here are all gone.
Some to, far off countries and climes.
Some exited out of life in time,
leaving a handful of sweet and sour memories.
The house now lies deserted
like many others with a similar plight.
Its once strong foundation is shaking
with a warning of an imminent collapse.
Faded light seeps through every crack.
The blue paint on its walls is chipping off.
The rusted roof is caving in, allowing rain
to sodden the ground and the interior,
etching mildew designs on the walls.
Shadows wander from room to room.
The path is overgrown with weeds
Worn wind chimes still glisten in the sun.
On the roof, weeds strike roots,
in the hope of becoming trees.
This decrepit house, now stays
amid thick growing shrubs
and trees bending down their arms
to hide it from human sight.
But who can cover it from my mind's eye
as its image remains a haunting memory
unable to be erased or blotted out!
I hear professors prattling,
I hear the reporters berate,
I see tech fascists side with China,
claim all who oppose them are ‘hate.’
I see young people lost and mad,
attacking people in the streets,
minds poisoned by the folks above,
Told to go find ‘nazis’ to beat.
I see a major party that
now embraces socialism,
claiming our past is all evil,
that all must see through their prism.
But given all socialism killed
they deserve only our anger,
you should be proud of America,
no nation has done it better.
No nation was built on ideas
instead of brute conquest or tribe,
we took the best mankind thought up,
then wrote it into law with pride.
Though it took trial and error
to see freedom was applied right,
we shed our blood to push it on,
we started and finished this fight.
The standard set for other states,
the impulse for their own reforms,
were it not for our founders words
freedom wouldn’t have become a norm.
Most still have not reached out level,
we remain freedom’s trend-setter,
you should be proud of America,
no nation has done it better.
How many nations were willing
to let their citizens compete?
To set free the productive urge,
and let loose true creative feats?
How many technologies
that have improved the human state
came from free people striving to
make money and do something great?
We let people chose for themselves
and the results speak loud and clear,
we flew a plane, launched a roadster,
and made bounteous food appear.
How many genres did we make;
books, film, and music, we’re go-getters,
You should be proud of America,
No nation has done it better.
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Illinois, Winter of 1920
Fair crystal-like turquoise crowns o'er heartland
while townsfolk are quite briefed on purchasing,
for those who dressed warmly had only planned,
meant shopping, browsing, eat-out ere praying.
While townsfolk are quite briefed on purchasing,
comparing, what's-in, plus what's-not, prattling,
meant shopping, browsing, eat-out ere praying,
stained-glass color-filled lights, and choir singing.
Comparing, what's-in, plus what's-not, prattling,
whilst child-filled dreams on pews awaiting toys,
stained-glass color-filled lights, and choir singing
trained their soprano voice from youthful boys.
Whilst child-filled dreams on pews awaiting toys,
countenance donning smiles midst fellow poise,
trained their soprano voice from youthful boys,
stretched course nineteen-twenty cores Illinois.
Countenance donning smiles midst fellow poise,
frequents childhood thoughts freshly occasions,
stretched course nineteen-twenty cores Illinois,
precedes squandered Asians, midst Caucasians.
Frequents childhood thoughts freshly occasions,
changed Santa and elf wrapped presents then hid,
precedes squandered Asians, midst Caucasians,
sung winter songs nigh ice pond where'd we skid.
Changed Santa and elf wrapped presents then hid,
blinking light-hues rounds decked-out scented tree,
sung winter songs nigh ice pond where'd we skid,
Santa plus elf served glazed doughnuts and tea.
Blinking light-hues rounds decked-out scented tree,
for those who dressed warmly had only planned,
Santa plus elf served glazed doughnuts and tea,
fair crystal-like turquoise crowns o'er heartland.
2020 December 18