Long Putz Poems
Long Putz Poems. Below are the most popular long Putz by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Putz poems by poem length and keyword.
I took umbrage over a comment in a current blog, in part stating that poetry, "... is a battlefield..." No. There should be no gauntlets thrown, no darts hurled, and no negative words hurled as if Poetry Soup is a battlefield. I was motivated to write...
Over and over again, blogs become a wallowing hole
where ugliness brews contempt and always takes a toll
on those who are trying to make a simple observation.
Someone takes offense and that provokes confrontation
by a tadpole who'll be a frog and not Prince Charming.
Ya know... the narcissistic type who think it's alarming
that they're ideas are not accepted by others on the site.
Then, it's "Katie, bar the door" and get ready for a fight!
Pollywogs keep swimming in rippling waters of the Soup,
where they take a dump, but don't think of it as 'Poop.'
Blogs are sandboxes where nasty words become litter.
Catty remarks are made by the arrogant and the bitter.
Not surprising, the same ones cut up with their mocking.
It's the same MO they use when they come a knocking...
knocking on new blog doors and causing a ruckus inside.
That's crossing a line that no one should ever take in stride.
Some abuse blogs, as if they're churches or synagogues.
If any part of Poetry Soup should go, it should be the Blogs.
Not as some redundantly claim, should be poetry contests...
Objected to by rallying sponsors and poets in fervid protests.
Blogs serve as playgrounds but break all schoolyard rules
when some can't stop themselves from acting like fools.
There's fighting and tugs of war... never for a good cause.
Gettin' tough over trivial stuff puts a pinch in their drawers.
For gosh sake, act like adults instead of flakes and nuts.
There's never and excuse for acting like a rattlepated putz.
The day the refrigerator went mad
Was the day the butcher put out the ad
Read to me by my own weirdo stepdad
Who was a putz, a reprobate, a cad
I was but a boy of ten, just a lad
Near the waterfront was our ugly pad
Chops only sixty cents, and we were glad
Refrigerator on the blink was bad
Can you cook them when you get home, dear Chad?
It was my mom and she was truly rad
Not wanting to make her any more sad
Gave her an excuse that was iron-clad
Refrigerator yelled “good grief! Egad!”
He fixed himself and threw away his mad.
Most active frig that we had ever had.
I didn’t have to cook, and I was glad!
Waiting on my flight I headed for the airport café
With a hot coffee in sight I quickly made my way
While I was at the store I got some donuts too
A bag of eight or more as bite size was all the new
But when I went to sit, there was no place to be found
And I was just about to quit in finishing looking around
Over there was one seat, just a man sitting there by himself
So in so wanting to rest my feet I went in kind of stealth
My bags now set down, finally that first sip of hot coffee
Thus removing my frown, saying finally it's now about me
In reaching in that bag for a nice, warm jelly crispy cream
When suddenly dag! in partaking, that other man he did beam
Who was this guy as I pulled my donuts next to my side
And looking from the corner of my eye, "these donuts I'll just hide"
But with a long reach and again that big smile on this strangers face
He took the one filled with peach as for a fight I began to brace
But then he finally stood and just left going about his own way
As I thought man that's good, "for I should at least have a say"
Oh, and there's my flight call, standing up and getting organized
When I thought, OH the gall! as I looked down and suddenly realized
My donuts were sitting on my suitcase and I was eating his donuts
And yet he showed me such grace even as I was acting like a putz
But the one real true moral being sewn throughout this whole story
Is that only one man was seeing the true Grace of all of God's Glory
Based on a story I heard.
(buzzfeeding, kickstarting, needling darn noggin)
An effort to recall word, phrase,
musician... indigenous tribe...
most frustrating literary
endeavor to das scribe
aggravating enough to sub
bourbon spur teetotaler to imbibe
and/or nsync, whereby soul searching
devil's advocate demands bribe.
Lil brokeback Engelbert Humperdinck
(born Arnold George Dorsey) bent edict coercion
(think sexual mores)
scaring stripes off blushing zebra
bunched unencumbered vice pliable straw
aforementioned pablum admittedly "fake"
birthed within cerebral tenderloin
of impractical joker,
whereby fifty plus shades
of gray matter (mine)
chafed and rubbed raw
prevarication playfully did overdraw
and tax poetic license writ courtesy this paw
poor putz offal declension
sprouted within mum maw
noun tent to verb (bull eyes - red) to draw
flak, but merely to harmlessly entertain
so accept apologies (mine)
verses calling strong (lanced) arm of law.
I (garden variety poetaster) reckon fair game
media personalities grist for rumor mill, though lame
explanation given (funny first and surname)
adopted by supposed "finest middle-of-the-road
balladeers around," who co opted his stage name
from authentic Engelbert Humperdinck; selfsame
prodigy circa 1 September 1854 –
27 September 1921
German composer, who wrote, I gently exclaim
the opera Hansel and Gretel - a Grimm fairytale
actually frightful saga - read countless times
setting me boyhood imagination aflame
with mailer daemons, who haunted dreams
(mine) 'course in retrospect material tame
compared/contrasted with current pandemic
analogous as if mother Earth -
a metaphorical dame
experiencing long overdue reprieve, cuz shame
on *****sapiens belching pollutants
at any price to garner fortune and fame.
"When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations." John F. Kennedy
Arrogance is such an egotistical trait; one I cannot abide
Ignorance, I can excuse, but not those puffed up with pride
Pompous people sing their own praises in snooty songs
Their sharp tongues exposing them as pathetic ding dongs
Cocky ones enjoy clawing at people, hoping for surrender
Hiding behind the facade of a mask is a worthless pretender
They try to steal the dignity of others, as though out for blood
Tearing at their emotions like peeling petals from a rose bud
Until someone comes along to drag them off their high horse
and reveals their tyrannical ways with little exertion or force
With puckered lips they chomp at people like a big mouth bass
and for thinking I'm naive, they deserve a boot up the a s s
Always acting smug, their spouting and spewing is notorious
Conceited megalomaniacs who think they are vainglorious
Pretentious in manner and speaking, but absolutely boring
Picking fights just to be rebellious, belligerent and warring.
Does such behavior make them feel important and influential?
I see them as venomous snakes, whose lives are inconsequential
One day ego will prostrate them, landing them flat on their butts
Each haughty one I prefer to label an insolent moron and a putz.
December 31, 2021
King-Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charlie Messina
Contains More Than Kernel Of Truthful
alienation, expulsion, ostracization
from body politick
if member of society resistant,
indifferent, adamant, et cetera
despite differentiation
(across the figurative board)
intolerance opposing ethos,
asper unspoken social graces extant
(albeit manifested amidst diverse
livingsocial variations) within
rubric of global civilizations primal,
oral, nonverbal, et cetera codas
automatically decreeing manual Kant
instilled from cradle
to grave impossible mission scant
acceptance toward recalcitrant
challenging precepts via rave and/or rant
thus when born into whatever culture,
steeped with historical paradigm
one can protest superficial nigh cities
til ivy blue in the face,
or try to concoct a feeble rhyme
but culture club richly identified, endowed,
brewed from heritage long time
ago until the cows come home to roost
hence creative pursuits one direction
can turn to swiftly tailor
if harried styled
with perceived restrictive parameters
and cuss like a sailor
with song and dance routine
(perhaps appearing on Dancing
With The Stars), or
choosing subterfuge viz
writing nefarious malware code, where mailer
daemons spring to life, when computer code
following infinitely jesting illogic causing exhaler
(case in point - myself, hoot
ends tubby humorous) as yukon gauge
yet another Internet end user might experience
greater reason to rage
against the machine before
turning rogue gushing renegade, stage
jing anarchy against disparity
with equal pay, cuz a working wage
aint nuttin boot peanuts
so if strong willed, hook hairs
if you appear like a putz
just realize doggerel
of this pooch iz gaseous boot utterly without guts
and hangs around the junkyard
with other nerdy mutts.
Captain Kuni-Lemel strikes again
(even when iron not hot, but rather cold as ice)
Yours truly a day late dollar short
dollars to donuts bonafide klutz
living testes mint procreative
seminal squirt biological reproduction,
could never conceive to abort
despite countless occasions,
I blithely admit characteristics
linkedin with being a putz
going off rails as a one man train wreck
mine impossible mission to avoid
NOT running amok imagine
bull in a china shop.
Pigeon toed, I trip over me own little feet
size nine shoe small size for grown man
leaving utter disaster in his wake
synonymous when havoc strikes
chaos theory alive and well
ensues when I walk about
and dare take even one baby step.
Ever since adept with ability to crawl,
I ofttimes tumbled down the stairs,
but never did shed tears nor bawl
e'en when taking nosedive head first did fall
out the hatch of airplane
splattered, plastered, and matted
think suddenly feeling comfortably numb
joist another brick in wall
nevertheless acquiring stunt man role
paid big bucks
as *****sapien disguised as Sasquatch
(cause unkempt harried styled hair)
more times than I can remember
fell to Earth minus parachute,
which hoop fully explains
the incomprehensible drawl
earnestly and frankly harkening language
once extant within Gaul
which reverberated inside hall
of mountain (lionized) king.
Prior to any madcap misadventure
yours truly envisions his clumsiness
plays out within my third eye blind
hilarious scenario unfolds in slow motion
whereby accidental flick of wrist,
barely brushes up against
flimsy clothes rack
(the original motive begetting poem)
knee jerk involuntary reaction,
kicking obstacle clear across Compton
generating comical feedback loop
impossible mission to stop
blockchain of fateful bitcoin events.
Living amidst (amongst) disarray
courtesy the missus, whose domestic habits
never merit housekeeping seal of approval
twenty four/seven pose
a hazard to mine existence.