Long Riotous Poems
Long Riotous Poems. Below are the most popular long Riotous by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Riotous poems by poem length and keyword.
Every single God-granted map
Real and illusory
Points to the same
Joy-screamed madness
That: Life is bubbles!
The cousin I never met
A brilliant gem of
A human cut from the
Same block of
Pulsing love that pre-dates,
Pre-births all material Earth, and the
Botany, musical and massive,
The seasons, turning and
Blood-forming, forming the
Fibers of the Cape as
My uncle, twenty-eight years estranged,
Shows me--me, with the awe-struck
Shock of eight million miracles.
I tremble through my own
Blood working, pumping, and
Traversing all around me on
The crisp grass managed by
A father who knows quiet
Love, practiced and performed
Through riotous reunion.
An uncle I've only now met.
A cousin now grown and giving,
Giving me more
Coffee as the morning paper
Bleeds into her Spanish homework
And all other brilliant trimmings the
Family mills through the lines of property as...
That I ran out of time for--four days
Is not enough.
But forty days was just right.
And if we took that trek
We would sprint into the
Throughness of the blackness
Of the night, arm and arm or not at all,
As individual as we please to be
(And do we ever please to be)
With an army of lungs quaking from each
Spiked song, smoking out and into all forty nights
And we grab each other without touching
Through the fog, unexpectedly, heartpoundingly,
Letting all things, real and illusoreal,
Just be.
And that's all family really
Demands of us, anyway.
To just be.
Just be there.
And feel the mad-sparks bubble.
Let the love-barks rumble.
And the sadness, crumble
Through our sacred union of hands.
Hank had cowboyed and rodeoed fer nigh on forty years,
Ridin' in sleet, rain and snow a-herdin' cantankerous steers.
His hide was tough as leather and his legs was slightly bowed,
But brandin' dogies and fixin' fences was all he ever knowed!
His gut was made of iron from a diet of taters, beans and bacon.
Many times he was throwed from his hoss but his will remained unshaken.
He'd been bit by rattlesnakes and scarred from many barroom brawls,
And kicked by many a skittish bronc while muckin' out their stalls!
When tryin' to halt stampedes, Hank was often gravely gored,
And was hoarse from yellin' and cussin' at that riotous horde.
When shoein' hosses they often left an imprint on his chest,
Where flyin' hoofs landed leavin' him angry and depressed!
He didn't git rich and couldn't hoard money fer a rainy day;
Not much chance of accumulatin' such on a cowpokes meager pay.
His bed was usually 'neath the stars with his saddle fer a pillow,
Sharin' space with his old dog Spike and an occasional armadillo!
One day he up and told the boss, "I've had my fill of a cowboy's life.
I'm a-quittin' as of now. My old bones is weary from all this strife.
I'm saddle sore and tired of bunkhouse livin' and all yer stingin' slurs.
You kin take this job and shove it 'cause I'm a-hangin' up my spurs!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
W?rdz sp?ld k?'r?kt 'v?rs?s f?'n?t?k'sp?l??
alternately titled fun with phonics
'?lt?rn?tli 'ta?t?ld f?n w?ð 'f?n?ks
analogous when like first learning how to spell American English words
?'næl?g?s w?n la?k f?rst 'l?rn?? ha? tu sp?l ?'m?r?k?n '??gl?? w?rdz
I thought to feign not knowing how to spell American English words
A? ??t tu fe?n n?t 'no??? ha? tu sp?l ?'m?r?k?n '??gl?? w?rdz
and quickly realized the daunting task,
Ænd 'kw?kli 'ri??la?zd ð? 'd?nt?? tæsk,
thus sought magnanimity, gratuity, courtesy...
Google search (phonetic transcription of words) to assist me
Ð?s s?t magnanimity, gr?'tu?ti, 'k?rt?si..
'gug?l s?r? (f?'n?t?k ?træn'skr?p??n ?v w?rdz) tu ?'s?st mi
Words spelled correct versus phonetic spelling
(the latter appended after poem concludes).
Thus now begins feeble attempt
to render rhyme for no reason
appended with phonetic translation
mainly as playful tease zen
synonymous imagining teaching
said exercise to eager children
reminding readers that young
and restless with spotty attention
hear spoken word while in utero,
post natal, subsequently when
he/she parrots parent(s) and/or
guardian, a more deliberate yen
arises to acquire greater cognition,
intuition, question (quest ja hen)
quickly devolving into faux ken
barbed riotous laughter analogous
trying wits of patient comedian/
comedienne resorting quite often
to repetition, remonstration,
reiteration... which frustration
might necessitate taking ten,
or so minutes of intermission
mindful mentor praises pen
ultimate verbal adroit ability
earning healthy treat for recitation,
perhaps recipient exceptionally
eager to advance passing golden
milestone able, ready, and will len
to tackle writing correct spelling,
whence learning to hold pen(cil)
(without being vain) begin men
till process, which next step den
allows, enables and provides sen
sit heave hands on guidance
helping preschooler - all liven
and well with enthusiasm clutch
writing implement fingers open
before gently grasping above ren
during kudos with an amen.
"Terraforming"
She creates her new world
crackling life between her thighs
birthing the pains of man
ever constant terraforming
she reigns
magnanimously
in her power
holding his imagination
in her warm palms
like twin marbles burning;
Sun and Moon kiss
in his field of dreams
She’s terraforming
ubiquitously his horizon
each and every morning
diamond hard she wears him
he's receiving callibrations
a measurement of risk,
she flies with new wings
piercing jade blades
through his windows
Goddess rides his Blue Skies
holding his
hot piece of art
there arrives two smiles
in riotous celebration
massaging
cabin fever hearts
twin deities
divine salves
blessed and damned in
the morning
awaking their new
celestial migration
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"The Weather" / Pond
https://youtu.be/gS-bqTWOuKI
1. Terraforming
2. Magnanimous
3. Ubiquitous
4. Lyrics
https://genius.com/Pond-the-weather-lyrics
How your beauteous face stirs me
as I gaze into your startling eyes
deep blue pools of mystery I see
you hold me bound by satin ties
Your hair shines like ravens wings
a riotous windswept mass of curls
as I gaze up on you my heart sings
seeming to turn in spins and whirls
Your figure so perfectly curved
I just yearn to be in your arms
your piecing gaze has me unnerved
and yet I am pulled by your charms
Dallying together, passions rising
soon we will be wed as man and wife
for now we just play, do some musing
of emotions which do now run so rife
written for National Poetry Day
10/03/2013
I tried to leave which sex to the readers imagination
What beauty is beheld
by the loveliness of trees
its leaves are a crown of glory
a living wonder, changing
with the seasons.
In springtime, new branches
welcome the sunlight
green leaves eagerly appear
birds busily nest between
dappled light and shadows.
In summertime, trees are a
haven from the heat
wrapping leafy arms
around a weary traveler
like a protective mother.
In autumn, trees throw a
riotous pageant, as leaves
turn into a blazing show
of fiery reds, brilliant oranges
and bright yellows.
This majestic affair lasts
but for a brief while, when
a sudden curtain call causes
leaves to fall, leaving a
colorful carpet in its wake.
As winter creeps in, trees
underscore the sparse
chill of the season
as bony branches shiver
in the wind.
The cycle of trees ever turns
from season to season
its wonder and glory
endures through the ages.
Written on 1/14/2019
The children of Enoch
In a time of obscure realm and ancient lore,
Sodom was the brimming cup of secrets to score.
The primordial drama of good and evil unfolds,
Enoch’s antiquity’s timelessness beholds.
The corruption of the sacred and insatiable lust,
when angels and daughter of men entrust.
Irrepressible desire to beget children by these women,
spellbound egos power abdomen.
Zarathustra the Persian prophet made it very clear
warning everybody of unnamed horrors to fear.
Angels of dark and their twisted heavens version,
conceived children and their devouring dispersion.
That society latched to war games to commit genocide,
in defense of their holy claim and bride.
Gabriel was send to destroy the children of fornication,
by inciting them to their own self destructive sensation.
The great flood suppose to wipe out false prophecies,
the false spirit of unrest to proof powers tragedies.
Given them an everlasting station to be in consumed,
never to obtain peace and remission in sin confused.
Every act of blasphemy, tyranny and manipulation,
will be the righteous discloser into life eternal.
These angels and followers are no longer to rise,
to the realms of heaven and purities of eyes.
Demons who wander about the riches of the world,
confirming their manner of life to be adored.
They worshipping beauty and glory that fades,
calling murder the most intimate act it mates.
The doom by their pleasure in sensual stimulation,
riotous and rancorous living inhalation.
A shroud upon our life and good people’s nature,
when worthless currency is given in exchange of labor.
The watchers eroding our planet for so long,
and if they could every soul to capture lifelong.
The system manipulates the food to stabilize sickness,
giving health department richness.
The love of money rooted in pride and lust,
vices that feeds the sexual prowess must.
Defying the Almighty by abuse the sacred law,
inferiorities and boosting one selves by every awe.
Life in itself needs to become a scripture of a kindled soul,
giving in love is far beyond all perception as whole.
All around me the land suffers too much greening.
The luxuriant froths over into a feverish lush.
Birds cannot consume all the insects.
Snakes cannot eat all the birds.
The ground hogs on the swill of decay.
If this is natures wealth then a little poverty
is needed, a tax on the riotous and too abundant.
Death the reaper must rule his kingdom with more gusto,
both the prey and the predator sparring none,
the sickly succulence of overripe sap
drained and clarified by a cooler sunlight.
I was whelped in more temperate climes,
wolves died of hunger and age not heat stroke.
The rabbit burrows are oven gates
for marauding hordes and an avid pestilence.
The balance is tipped and off kilter,
The climate repaints its face more garishly
each day.
I hear the mandibles of ferocity, their
click and remorseless grind,
and there is no softness in the nibbling jaws
of those who rampage silently,
those, who strip the bloated and obese
to the dark and rancid bone.
I secretly journey now under dawn stars,
trace my way over cooling paths
before another fevered heat
force feeds the land.
I was down deep in a dark dreamy dream,
wandering a wispy, winding wilderness, where
sounds stabbed at an eerie secret silence;
with roars, rumbles and the rage of riotous birds,
in trees unseen and in branches of twisted tapestry.
When I heard with heartbreak mother's heavenly voice,
calling in the caliginous, obscure gloomy forest canopy;
it was my name and I searched with a narcotic need,
I ran wild, rampant and rapacious wailing WAIT.
Until, I was worn-out weary and woebegone;
I murmured and mumbled- mother, mother . . .
Then, sun blazed like a bath into my bedroom.
____________________________
March 23, 2018
Poetry/Alliteration/Dark Dreamy Dream
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1006-184-23
All Rights Reserved, 2018, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Alliteration Poem,
sponsor, Silent One, Judged 03/2018
Second Place
Submitted to the Standard contest, A Strand (1052)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 01/16/2022
First Place
The lawyer is calling
Or the Hawk is coming
But the rockets land the same
In Sunset Town,
They all go to ground
Maybe back from where they came
The rodents and rocks
The zombies in socks
The big gala at the earth's core
I don’t wanna travel
And I don’t want no babble
Can’t take the pressure no more
‘Cause here we are livin’ in Sunset Town
The great coup de grace for the West
Let’s stay up ‘til nine with our moonshine and vines
Gettin’ tangled in the dreams we loved best
When the big missile launch
Rears its head around dawn,
You won’t find me in no basement;
I’ll be out in the reeds
With my riotous deeds
No remorse and no replacement
We all gonna party
With Thomases Hardy and Pynchon —
It’s gonna be grand
And when the Good Lord Jesus
Both blesses and sneezes,
The Seventh Lamb will fire the band
‘Cause here we are livin’ in Sunset Town
The great coup de grace for the West
Let’s stay up ‘til nine with our moonshine and vines
Gettin’ tangled in the dreams we loved best
Now there’s no desecratin’
Or deprecatin’
When Satan’s got his people to serve
Let’s go riding with sin
Since we’re all wired in
To that unified bundle of nerves
Yes here we are livin’ in Sunset Town
The great coup de grace for the West
Let’s stay up ‘til nine with our moonshine and vines
Gettin’ tangled in the dreams we loved best