Long Retorts Poems
Long Retorts Poems. Below are the most popular long Retorts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Retorts poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: November 02, 2025, for contest by: Robert James Liguor
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The frozen core of human activeness
where the temperament recklessly smiles,
sludge cascades from the blade's edge
A joyous opsimath emerges,
reminiscent of rebellion and aged books,
sturdy and infused with a grin.
His unique calling sign is the "lard of law."
He wears robes adorned with nimbus designs
and stands before a wall of questions.
He gathers information from insightful individuals
Every conundrum is a breach in the law,
And every victim wants to be obvious,
He repeats sharp retorts to the sentient
To the obstreperous, the zymotic throbbing of history.
He says that justice is not banausic.
She is a lissome Nereid,
dancing with eurythmic elegance through garbage.
Though weariness grasps the morning,
and moribund minds look for troughs, not summits.
He persists on—
a sherpa of the spirit,
bestow the noisome into view
where enlightenment flowers akin to vernal fire.
Justice is not a flaw,
It's beginning
It is Nemesis
the tiny thread that links,
the strained heart to the flimsy earth.
In London’s gaslit, art-enamoured scene,
Lived two great wits, with egos sharp and keen.
The Painter James, with monocle and cane,
The Poet Wilde, who found in art no pain,
But only beauty, in a world mundane.
They vied for notice, ‘midst the social whirl,
Two shining stars, one butterfly, one pearl.
Their row, half-feigned for the public’s gay delight,
Was a rap contest in the fading light,
A friendly jousting for the bon mot’s might.
Whistler speaks, "Au cobtraire, you!"
“Now Oscar, pray, observe my ‘Nocturne’ blue,
A symphony in tone, a vision true.
No moral burden, no heavy, social plea,
Just ‘Art for Art’s Sake,’ for the world to see.”
Wilde retorts articulately:
“Your art, dear Jimmy, is a lovely thing,
A shell where the ocean’s music seems to sing.
But tell me, James, without a hint of ire,
When you paint nature, do you find desire?
Or just a canvas for your genius’ fire?”
Whistler snaps back, playing a lyre:
“Nature, my boy, is usually wrong!
She’s seldom perfect and does not last for long.
I merely help her, lend a guiding hand,
To make her beauty understood, and grand.”
Wilde replies, with a theatrical strand:
“I wish, dear James, that I had said that line!”
Whistler’s eyes, with mock-offence, do shine:
“You will, good Oscar, you will, in your time!”
A stinging jest, a hint of plagiarism’s dart,
Which Oscar parried, with his usual art.
The playful jousting became a la carte,
Their friendship ended on bit of a bitter notary.
Whistler complained his ideas were filched away,
That Wilde had stolen his dandyish display.
He called him “middleman,” a critic, not an artistian,
Wilde, in return, called Whistler an “ill-bred” person,
A “venerable impostor,” to make the matter worsen.
The battle moved to newspapers, bold and crass,
Their lively letters, a gift to the masses.
“When you and I are together,” Wilde did opine,
“We talk of nothing but ourselves, I find.”
“No, no, dear Oscar,” Whistler quickly wrote,
“When we’re together, we talk of me, note!”
A final jab, a rivalry complete,
The war of wits, a well-known, public feat.
Wilde had the last word in his novel, Dorian Gray,
Where the murdered artist had his little say.
Their rivalry remembered, for the wit they shared,
Two sparkling egos, gloriously paired.
"Instead of expressing exasperation, think toleration."
~ by poet
I find that I've become impatient with people who seem dense
and it only serves to frustrate me with an ire too often intense.
Sometimes, under my breath, I hear the words I'm mumbling,
"Why can't you understand this?" Then, I realize I'm grumbling.
I'm just a lowly human without a trace of Divinity to be found
so, I should be more humble, for I've not been royally crowned.
"Be tolerant," my heart whispers to my soul, as if it could hear.
"And be mindful," it said to my tongue, "words can bring tears."
I really should listen with more compassion and less askance.
I've no right to judge others. I don't know their life's circumstance.
Swallowing harsh words is a taste I should learn to find sweet
and conquer the bitterness of retorts... intolerance then I'd defeat.
People are not chess pawns that I can push around on a board,
and leniency should be allowed them across every stream I ford.
I don't control who walks the bridge with opinions of their own.
It's their right to have them, even if they're ones I don't condone.
I'll pursue being more tolerant of others and give them respect
and be sincerely diligent about this as a goal I should not neglect.
We sold our freedoms for Big Macs, big stacks of crack, and bottles of Jack
This mess is wack and in fact I'm totally done
Havin' fun with the lines I've spun
We want to sit here and whine and moan
And groan while we play with our phones
We're nothing but drones and clones
Bleeding out over the bones of our ancestors
We don't like the shape the world is in
But are the masses getting off their booties
Nah but as soon as as a new iPhone comes out
We get out the fastest
While fascist dictators blast us
And I'm the Christoph
But I'm so pissed off
That I could list off
All the things wrong with this world
When lies and retorts are hurled
This isn't the way things are supposed to be
And I'm led to believe I'm free
****, NSA already knows the lines I'm writin'
And we're out here fightin'
Over the latest celebrity newspapers
When the government makes off like capers
We can't see above the skyscrapers
Everything tapers
We're too busy feedin' kids this rubbish
Because it's important to fit in
And sit in with all the cool kids
But these are fool bids
Makin' new generations
The foolish leaders of nations
Let's just cut the funds off from the schools
And prioritize learning multiple choice answers
This is a gosh darn cancer
Because these kids grow up without actual knowledge
And I'm just another dancer
Looking for what is right
We're supposed to epitomize
And legitimize the spies and lies
Like flies droppin' from the skies
While the land denies
That there is a fundamental problem
But we're too busy sittin' on the couch to care
Becomin' freedom fighters on the weekend
Only to go back to our daily hum drum lives
And forget the strife that we strive to stifle
While armies march with rifles
We're too busy tappin' away on Facebook
And they took us for fools
Because the schools damn sure don't care
Where are all the minute men
To take out the the senate when
It's nothing but a hall of corruption
Where is the eruption
Just tell me
Where is your anger now?
Walking among others
physically I'm there.
My mind suspended in the clouds,
mentally unaware.
My eyes glazed over
with a crimson color gloss.
My reaction speed slower,
this mind of mine seems lost.
Mixed with the many shades of life
different ages, young and old.
Strolling downtown fifth avenue,
smoking a blunt that I had rolled
Nobody seemed to notice
my cannabis aroma,
concentrated in my lungs,
relaxed in my walking coma.
I notice the petite young shorty
just up the walk a ways.
My looking stimulates a smile,
I approach slow and with a sway.
My name is, you are?
Extending my right hand.
She was hesitant at first,
like I might have a deeper plan.
She was five foot nine, slim
with chestnut colored hair.
Hazel eyes, immaculate curves
I find it hard not to stare.
I ask her " Do you dance?"
" I do " she retorts.
I took her to the salsa club
with a strict dress code, of course.
Throughout the night we danced,
sweat a free flowing river.
Thrusting her hips, bent forward.
I felt my legs begin to quiver.
The D.J. slowed his tempo
to Spanish R&B
I pulled her close, our pace had slowed.
Moves simultaneous to the beat.
Time drew swiftly,
Close to closing time.
It was now almost two,
About time to say good-bye.
She asked me for my number,
as she hands me hers.
Exchanging promises of another date,
and another chance for me to flirt...
Jared Pickett......9/01/09
Asavvy1
Clover superlative lovers, sprung via same stem
Umbrella immunity protects sprites supple
Filter purity lacy leaf shade kindly dapples them
Desiree samples pitchfork debauch, spicy morsel
Charcoal meats mesh ashes as a couple
Ambidextrous temptress directs a dirty rehearsal
Slides snakelike under bellies of cavernous crime
Noir nymph' s naughty retorts immortal
Eclipses mens' deception with suspense sublime
Renee seeps charisma, dripped dagger stalactites
Fever lucid rouge cog spins fire's scorch
Sword slung blood hungry royalty raunchily ignites
Challenges zealous volunteers alter ideal rhythm
Their arteries' iron absorbed easily by hers
Victims slump lethargic in archer's hearty system
Daisy cartwheels through clouds of chaste cherubs
Recklessly devours disappearing desserts
Meringue marries her tongue to immaculate merit
Sunrise serene promise of peace glides with dove
Subtle touch petal's glitter silken sensual
Agitates a fragile ego to dream unconditional love
Virgin indulges a glutton with wedding splendour
Impulsive maid skips in fields plentiful
Expressive poses pollinate their dramatic detour
Reunited trio resplendent, red black white card
Dervish of dizzying seductive curses
Climb dandelion conducted, an angel on guard
26th April
Tantalising Apparitions!
On our disparitive continuum
when after dusk the dawn is flowering
and skies aglow in rose chrysanthemum
have scattered banished darkness, cowering;
And when the silver drizzled fingerlings
traipse slippy streaks upon our timid hold
of dimpled melodies the robin sings
beneath an ever blinking marigold;
In oscillation then returns a choice
between relinquished self or dim retorts
where fools admonish rain and wise rejoice
reflective puddles pooled on tennis courts;
Since by the day is night from whence the day,
and by the morning clouds a midday rain -
in either or exists enough to say
that by the by for none should one complain;
For when tomorrow reigns and shadows clear,
while through replenished streams fresh water flows,
what babbles life in dawn ‘til stars appear
is that by which my daughter Lily grows;
And though at times unsmooth, my pendulum
will always sway by her empowering;
the brightest light on my continuum
whose love brought back a father, cowering.
4/7/2017
Oh, the gullible women threw themselves
at his intellectual poetry and prose.
To him, ah, he was as delightful as the scent
of a fragrant spring rose.
To their delicate dismay, they found him to
be a fraud and a sneak!
Inside, his forest green cape, they gasped!
Beware: HRM Prince Control Freak!
He was spreading evil talk amongst the princesses,
Causing dissension, heartbreak and not so
subtle hisses!
But Prince was simply righteous,out of some, to make fun?
The elixir of lies spread, by him was anything was droll
and humdrum.
He has changed, I am happy to loudly report!.
He has learned that others have their own views, not
in need of unwanted retorts.
8/6/2022
Don’t do the rhyme if you ain’t got the time.
Nothing is worse than a half-finished verse.
If you want to complete her, you’ll need a good meter.
(‘Tis said that the bard brought the girls to the yard.)
Don’t use words in a poem if you don’t really know ‘em.
Great gasp! Bloody heck! Have you heard of spellcheck?
Your free verse is free… of all grammar, I see.
Watch those apostrophes to avoid apostasy.
Bad punctuation brings the downfall of nations.
Long lines are killable, so be watching the syllables.
If the subject is tumors, at least use some humor.
If it’s garbled and confused, don’t shoot the muse.
If poetry’s hard, well, don’t blame the bard.
If you’re not having fun, this career’s not the one.
You’re not making money? I’m not either, honey.
And listen here, Missy, that’s pithy, not pissy.
I’d have more retorts, but I’d best keep it short.
Written: February 23, 2024
Rumi Quote: “There is a voice that doesn't use words. Listen.”-
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Line of inquiry:
"discarding narrow thought flow crutch
we learn directly by soft touch
and what we garner we relay
to the vast void in childlike play
entwined thus with the universe
we dance without need to rehearse"
_______________________
Vivid sense surges with staggering splendor,
A fluid-fetching flow fancies to surrender.
Enabling your soul to uphold the trend,
And as it stirs, so delightfully, transcend.
No diction is required whilst we convey love,
Randomized retorts reveal our reason above.
We perceive touch as a subtle twirling skill,
The cosmos doesn't require any prep drills.
We converge as we engage in teenage play,
Our minds are unrestricted to roam or sway.
Vatic validation verifies a vague version of life,
As one, we grow in harmony, bereft of strife.
Life was hardly fun or pure when I was awake,
Spontaneous, affectionate, and ecstatic break.
A future or past view is at odds with the present.
Risen to reality after years of ruse, apparent.
Cautious ego, everlasting treading lightly,
Surprise is quelled by touch trends tightly.
With a hunched posture, seemingly oblivious,
Bonding sorrow with each breath is insidious.
Heart and head are at odds, never in harmony,
In shadows dwell love and light doth scurvily.
Enticing mind and soul together to compile,
Embracing raw beginnings as our self-guile.
Unpredictability is the hallmark of spontaneity,
Allowing and lively, it exuded awe and acuity.
Alive in hollowness, connected with the divine.
Freely finding fulfillment fiber forward shine.
We have a simmering yearning in our air,
Everlasting flames that are growing bare.
Withies, willow whirling with weedy woe,
Genial greens growing a gulp group glow.