Long Roguish Poems

Long Roguish Poems. Below are the most popular long Roguish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roguish poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member God Is Always Good - 2

He was gone for all of that time
No one knew what his life was like
He could have been a thief or murderer
Only God knows all that he’s done
Why would Daddy let him come back home?

He destroyed everyone’s trust
He left here with half of Daddy’s belongings
Where did he live while gone?
No doubt he was with drunkards and harlots
People who live in the darkest thoughts
With only doubt, fear and despair
He was living with the dreaded devils
His life was shadowed by his failures

He shouldn’t have had the nerve to come back
Home, for him, should be off limits
He shouldn’t be allowed to live here anymore

But Daddy killed the fatted calf for him
Gave him the best robe and his ring
Embraced him with a joy that only knows
He is the beloved son, his heart and soul
Why hasn’t he ever killed a calf for me, though?

I asked Daddy why he was going to all this trouble
For a son who had only used and abused him
Given him nothing but worry and strife
Filled his mind with only regret, pain and trials
I asked him why, but Daddy only said…

**“Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.”

So Daddy killed the fatted calf for my brother
My resentful, bitter heart was spurned
But I know my Daddy is filled with pure love
And He loves the prodigal with a spirit
That can only be described as merciful…
Compassionate and tolerant…
Much like the forgiveness that God sends
To the one who repents and believes
His grace is like a light shining through 
The soul who knows His love is the treasure
That every prodigal seeks to accept

And, I, the son who was righteous yet resentful
Need his forgiveness just as much
As the roguish prodigal…

All I need to do is ask, and God’s forgiveness
Will reach down and absolve me of my wrongs
I will ask and receive… because, like my Daddy..
God is always GOOD!





**Luke 15: 31 And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. 32 It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.


Out of the Blue

Out of the blue I searched for you,
Under yellow skies I walked,
With scarlet red the things you knew!
The black lace talked and talked

I found you thumbing on the road,
Drifting south for a change of pace,
Your suitcase was hardly a load,
My heart began to race.

A game was lurking in your eyes,
I wanted in to play your sin.
Fortune’s wheel did not disguise 
The roguish plans you held within.

You took the keys and off you went, 
With gaping mouth I stood 
My heart inflamed with discontent,
I whimpered all I could.

With bold resolve my feet did go,
Dust and sweat led the way.
What did tempt I did not know,
But hidden fires held my sway.

Marching like a highway man,
Of dreams untold to think about,
I tried to chart your steps and plan,
Whose saucy tease I had no doubt.

Feline ways invite soft prints,
Invisible shades eyes large make,
I saw the method in your hints,
By subtle fumes my nose did stake.

I tracked and looked and never quit,
To find your world and magic curve,
But at some point I had to admit,
I wondered if I had the nerve.

I hung my head, I sang low tunes
Echo’s hope was just a trace,
So I took to heed the passing moons
Oh your purring heart did I chase.

As though you saw my forlorn look,
My ears you tapped with engine fire,
Behind me came your line and hook,
Smiling in my car you took.
Get in you said with lips to bend,
With a grin that spoke of lazy miles,
To you my vows could but commend,
So sure were your entrancing styles.

I swaggered in next to fate,
Forever gone, here was now,
Praying for mercy on this date,
Still like a mouse hearing meow.

You throttled up and off we flew,
The wind and hair was just a blair,
If my better half only knew,
The forbidden things I would dare.

The ride was smooth and oh so cool,
Skin touched skin and all was one,
Kissed by heaven’s secret rule,
Ay there’s the rub, just have some fun.

Salvation’s road leads to crime,
Heat and sweat are natures beat,
Lemons aid the bitter lime,
To overcome what might defeat.

Out of the blue I searched for you,
Under yellow skies I walked,
With scarlet red the things you knew!
The black lace talked and talked.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Quixotic

In a world where dreams are rakish and quixotic,
Where quiddity seems extravagantly chaotic,
A chivalrous soul dares to be different.
With a heart that beats fervently, so magnificent.

Romantic notions dance in their minds.
A visionary quintessence they find,
Chimerical dreams they hold dear,
Preposterous, dreadful tracks they fear.

Age is just a number, they say.
Irrelevant in the pellucid pursuit of their way,
Happiness is the sense that one matters,
And their dreams are the ladder.

In a world where opia destruction prevails,
Where chaos and despair often trail,
Quixotic evidence emerges, bold and bright.
Roguish scope for rebuilding shines a light.

Dare to alter the world, they proclaim.
With sapidity gnawing such a flame,
It may seem quixotic, and some may sneer.
But their seraphic vision is so clear.

For in their hearts, they sojourn the key.
In a world where dreams roam free,
Where impossibilities become realities
And it's in this world, they find their vitality.

There is no scarcity of opportunity.
To earn a living doing what they love, with glee, 
Chasing in kuebiko without compromise.
For in their dreams, their spirit lies.

It erratically seems as if curbing entropy,
Is our quixotic goal in the cosmos, you foresee,
But in the midst of chaos, they stand tall.
With a determination that never stalls.

In a world where dreams are quixotic,
They refuse to be virtuosically robotic.
They believe in the anecdoche dreams.
And nothing, awry reality, dims their gleams.

They agnize that each sonder is just a number.
And that happiness is a monachopsis to remember.
They embrace the chivalrous and the romantic.
With an onism spirit that's truly ecstatic.

Word Bank:

Rakish: Smart; jaunty; dashing
Quixotic: Idealistic
Quiddity: Core-Subconscience
Chivalrous: Sublime, virtuous
Pellucid: Translucently clear
Opia: Dope, Addiction
Sapidity: Zest, Sapor
Kuebiko: State of exhaustion
Entropy: A situation of panic or disorder
Anecdoche: Amusing Tale
Sonder: Empathy, Compassion
Monachopsis: Confused
Onism: Delineate the awareness of how little of the world we will experience
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Roguish Reincarnated Ribbing Raconteur

Roguish reincarnated ribbing raconteur...

Ruminating, while rustling, and roping
regular riff raff galore
with deliberate intent tomb ache
mummy dearest laugh
till she falls down Mariana Trench
deep down on zee sea floor,

where tears trickle thence pour
down her cheeks
causing flash floods that did roar
back in the day of dinosaur
triggering erosion plus extinction regarding
"terrible lizards," unwittingly

opening figurative door
regarding wild speculation
by George, i.e. ninety eighty four
bajillion years ago maya
inca ling extempore
rainy us hypothesis,
whereby this troubadour

posits sketchy jaw dropping conjecture
synchronization, superstition, strangulation...
roaming contra band predecessor
rock hitted rolling stones
hook, line and sinker
gathered no hardy moss, nor

grunting gripes re: ain't
got no satisfaction store
reed prehistoric bipedal hominids
embarkation commenced way before
führer set to even World War I score
back hazy mists time immemorial

vulnerable scattered shortish,
nasty brutish primates bore
ring, measly, niche indeed
kickstarted guttural folklore
fierce predators heavily outnumbered
lacked aptitude to deplore

chance fluke circumstances
take out boxed survival diet of worms
held in escrow to check
propensity trending cocksure
bazillion future generations, when
forebears would explore

comfort zones outer limits,
meanwhile mine and your
great great great... grandparents
kept low profile learning hardcore
bare necessities to shore
scant population uttering primal bonjour.

How quaint to contemplate,
when proto humans continuity
at mercy of indiscriminate fate
where unavoidable, uncontrollable, unpredictable...
forces decreed demise
contracting early death versus to dilate
envisioning disadvantageous, horrendous, 
precarious tenuous...

toehold *****sapiens descendents I equate
with apocalyptic unpleasant fate
predicated pitching humanity
teetering on brink, where
self destruction will accelerate
unless species doth ameliorate
weapons of mass destruction
while doomsday clock ticks closer to...

Why There Are Stars-A Fantasy

Savage mountains spit out rocks,

                                Sputter rage and die for a second

                             And rise again with fire yellow and red

                                   Particles, sparks, explosives

                                Of the daemons from the past

                                           Burying a nation.


                                                In God's saffron robe
              
                                      Appears a trace of red

                                  And in face a tinge of regret

                                              For His men.

                                He knows the immoral daemons 

                                    Are flourishing, destroying 
 
                                              What is good.


                                                 God is the partial man

                               And he understands the problem.

                      He says" To speak truly, a man of genius can do"

                                "A total man from the stardust"

                      He calls out to the constellations to intervene;

                             And make every rock to be battered

                                  Into myriads of living atoms.


                                       We therefore make leaders

                                          Made of constellations

                                        Spearheaded, supreme

                       To kill the roguish volcanoes, abodes of daemons

                           And that's why there are stars.

                              We need them to be there,

                                 Out in the dark space;

                      At least we think they should be there.

                                       We make stars.

                                            His wish.













Why Are There Stars Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
DOE: 02nd July-2018


A Handy Dandy Family Thing I Did Not Know From Adam

A handy dandy family thing, I did not know from Adam

Monstrous disembodied giant hairy hand...
reached out thru Macbook Pro
Lenovo external screen
"no way can this be real,"
I muttered to no one in particular.

Bug eyed, slack jawed, yours truly froze
petrified as an insidious wrist took rat -
manifested arm - matured
into huge fingered palm meadowed beast,

reached out thru cyberspace,
the likes of which garden variety club
roguish poor trait pal mystery,
aye never saw before since
which can easily cast spell.

Immobilized with fear
hypnotic trance
rendered me immobile
nsync king fast into
an hub bomb bin hubble
likeness of very same entity.

Entire body electric (mine)
courtesy dark shadows
suddenly rendered me into
phantasmagorical multi dimensional

gruesome garden variety golem,
no longer cowardly (lion of course)
bear with me, and play along,
and also bull eave tigers
live in Tony neighborhoods.

Actually spookiness made
avast improvement upon
mine former physiognomy,
this flickr ring quick
assessment surmised courtesy
hesitantly exploring, qua tactile
alien features comprising faux paws

linkedin to Neanderthal being
over laying inferior features (mine)
plus pluperfect poetic opportunity
without rhyme nor reason
(ugh questionable place
the word palimpsest fits).

Thus Spake Zarathustra
yawping, plucking, 
engendering... binary rhythm -
imagine dragons chiming
2001 a space odyssey theme
and protohuman (actually disguised actor)
appearing within opening scene.

Chewbacca look alike
or his doppelganger,
(albeit pint size version
standing seventy inches),
nonetheless stark improvement

versus geeky, nerdy, ugly...
born this way poker face chap
emboldened to frighten
bully wannabe and/or their ilk.

Damn, another daydream
proved "FAKE" thus
dashing hoop dreams
and condemning one lone
deplorable basket case schlemazel
to experience nightmarish gallery
courtesy outer limits of twilight zone.

Premium Member Annie Londonderry

In 1894, Annie climbed on a bike
Told the doubters to take a hike
Planned to cycle cross the planet, found sponsors, took a gun
Though she died 50 years after, her legend had begun.

How much is embellished, it's hard to say,
She used steamships to bridge gaps along the way.
But thousands of miles she rode alone,
While today's rebels seldom leave their phone.

She was an unlikely athlete, she weighed just 100 pounds
Her orthodox Jewish Husband didn't keep her in bounds
She hadn't ridden a bike until a few days before her trip
But she ignored those details and let adventure rip.

A sponsor, Londonderry water, gave her her name
And as Annie Londonderry, she won her fame.
From Paris to Marseille, a hurt foot rested on a handlebar
Still made it in two weeks, gave skeptics their first jar.

She reached Yokohama, took a boat to Frisco
Rode to L.A. Arizona, on a roll to El Paso
She rode beside tracks, a horse accident drew blood
But she hopped trains in Nebraska, because the roads were mud

In Iowa she hit a group of pigs, and broke her wrist
But she wasn't stopping now, no fading in the mist
She wore a cast until she made the goal and won the prize
Fourteen days before deadline, with triumph in her eyes.

You may never have heard of Mrs. Londonderry
She told lots of tall tales - roguish and merry
But still she was a pioneer, a racer and tough
An adventuress made mostly of the right stuff.

She had children, a business, yet we can agree
She showed the 1890's; how bold a spirit could be.
She didn't have money; she earned money along the way
with talks and ads, could you do that today?
Could you cycle through North Africa, Yemen, Saigon?
Or would ideologues stop you, from continuing on?
So for those who remember, let's give a Hurrah
For those who have moxie, and a dose of Chutzpah.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Mischief

Mischief

M   My soulmate is a miracle woman
I     In Conception and in contraception
S    She’s born three children one on the coil
C    Condom leakage on another and
H    Her first born on the oral pill
I     In terms of luck that takes some beating
E    Entirely normal just hormones on overdrive
F    Failure at first then a blessing in disguise

F    For my own natural fatherhood after
E    Endless trying my ex got injections
I     In reward my eldest daughter 
H    Her next ‘litter’ triplets from the womb
C    Careless maybe another son despite the
S    Sheer odds to conceive without help
I     In science we may trust one way or other
M    My explanation though comes through

The UNIVERSE
as HIGHER POWERS

H    Heaven at Christmas though plenty of gift wrap          P
I     Images of congestion when all need the loo               O
G    Girls have more problems but we manage somehow   W
H    Harvest of children and kid’s crop divine                     E 
E    Enter the mischief they can all produce ever after        R
R    Roguish cohabitation frolicsome happiness                  S



02nd October 2018

Actually ‘written’ between 1992 and 2004 as this is a true story

This is my adaptation of the acrostic poetry form.

Four Stanzas:
traditional acrostic
reverse acrostic
intermezzo (subtitle)
front and end acrostic

the acrostic stanzas with double letter emphasis
Form: Acrostic

Premium Member Smiles

Others oft get impressions of us by the way
We use facial expressions to feelings convey.
Most important of these to attract and beguile
Is the easy, reliable, versatile smile.

There are smiles that are sheepish or silly or sly
Or are knowing or fiendish or roguish or wry.
With our smiles we calm children and lessen their fear;
And we flash them if something is witty we hear.

People smile to emotions or motives disguise,
And they smile when they greet and old friends recognize.
There are wholehearted smiles that add sparkle to eyes,
And we glow when awarded an honor or prize.

Smiles despair can expel and extinguish a feud.
They rejoice and encourage and brighten one's mood,
When you're nervous, a smile can the tension relieve,
But both swindlers and traitors use smiles to deceive.

Smiles can hide our discomfort or foes irritate,
While a smile at the wrong time can troubles create.
And though smiles can disarm and befriend, as a rule,
One who always is smiling may look like a fool.

Smiles are signs we forgive and that we understand,
And we beam when a scheme goes exactly as planned.
Smiles are worn by performers when taking a bow,
And because this finished, I'm smiling right now.
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Moonlit Reverie - Part Ii

Written: September 10, 2023
______________________________________________________________

Sumptuous whispers are carried by the breeze.
A sonorous tune that calms moods and puts me at ease.
Pristine opines were uttered in a lilting voice.
An idyllic source of felicity; gentle as a dove to rejoice.

As the full moon rises in the night sky's frame,
The amatory blaze roguish hearts aflame.
And wispy scrutiny, a perduring gaze,
Bathing all in an elixir of romantic haze. 

With a brooding grace and a regal snare.
She captures hearts with her wistful stare.
In her propinquity, the stars, bow in hurrah
As she crafts the night with a sanguine awe

The sky, her canvas, a tapestry of dreams,
Her reign, a symphony of moonlit themes.
In the embrace of her nocturnal reign,
Lovers find solace in her melancholic refrain.

Her demure touch, a salve for the soul,
As she yarns magic, shaping souls whole.
And as the night gently swirls today,
The moon flings egress, fading away. 

But the serendipity of her alluring fable glow
The river of eternity leads sturdy and flows.
If only to bask in the gentle glow of moonlight.
Abides a love that fugacious years cannot quite.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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