Long Rough and tumble Poems
Long Rough and tumble Poems. Below are the most popular long Rough and tumble by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rough and tumble poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s fun time
Election time
Don’t say
I don’t care a dime
If this is so
You’ll miss
The highs and the lows
Some call it
Dance of Democracy
But you see
It’s no graceful dance
But Shiva's ‘Tandav'
Pulls, pushes and shoves
This is politics'
Rough and tumble
You have to screech, scream
And not just mumble
To be heard
Above the election din
Slander, abuses and accusations- no sin
Calling each other names
That’s the game
And, as for the voters
Election season’s prize catch
Those who can
Make the leaders
Win their poll match
For them
It’s raining freebies
They know
They are being pleased
By something called
The party’s ‘manifesto’
They can see through
Your's 'All truth'
The other's 'All lies'
Now, let’s wait
Till May 23
To know
Which way
Rolls the dice.
There were infinite shades of green.
A few angelic-scented cascades.
A pair of brown birds sang to me.
I tossed a bit of chocolate on the pine needle carpet.
They pecked the pieces and quickly flew off.
Somewhat ungrateful-I thought.
Breaching the tree line, the apron was next.
Thick-necked marmots played alpine flutes.
With rough-and-tumble attitudes.
The pikas were shy and very difficult to find.
(furry headed stones against the talus gray sky).
After hiking a dozen switchbacks.
I came upon a crushed emerald pond.
Granite-lined and orchid-shaped.
Living off winter's froth.
I decided the pond
wouldn't be nameless after all.
I'll name it Noah.
I finally reached the pinnacle.
I was greeted by a shiny gummy bear.
At elevation, it looked like a yellow gem.
Another hiker boasted that he was the second-highest thing
in the lower forty-eight. (He was taller than me).
I was too fatigued to say anything.
The panorama was humbling/the air was pinkish and pure.
I was nearer to God than I'd ever been before.
I re-entered the forest, sipping a cherry soda.
That night I slept as if I were orphaned from death.
Dreaming of chocolate birds and giant yellow bears.
When I awoke, I was no longer the tallest of anything.
Fight me! Styx wants to say
It comes out as a ‘mew’
They stroke his fur and pet his head
Tickle, fuss and coo
Too soft! He thinks, Where are the claws?
The hard knocks and the teeth?
His friends, the other wampus cats
At least brawl like they have beef
But his clowder mates are holed up too
Hunkering from the hail
What he wouldn’t give right now
To bite another’s tail!
Adrenaline makes his muscles twitch
Pent up frustration writhes
Oh to be outdoors again
Running with his tribe!
Fight me! Styx wants to roar
All six legs set to scrap
He doesn’t want an invitation
To sit purring on a lap
Fight me! Styx insists
And receives a little shove
Yes! Physical contact!
He interprets it as love
Fight me! Fight me! He’s shoved again
He nips, inviting more
He’s rewarded with rough and tumble
And is sent sprawling on the floor
When it comes to good play fighting
The humans don’t quite know how
It’s not the same as wampus wrestling
But it’ll do, for now
She was never a girly girl
did not care about wearing her
mother’s high heel shoes,
or painting her nails.
Wasn’t interested in putting on lipstick,
or smearing makeup on her face.
Had no attraction to the color pink
like most girls do,
nor did she fancy pretty dresses
carefully selected for her.
When she was permitted to make decisions for herself,
and choose what style she wanted to wear,
she wore clothes the same as her brother and
liked to rough and tumble with his friends.
No one in the family felt the need to ask "the question”.
Her identity she chose by herself.
She matured to be phenomenal
despite a world so cruel at times.
The belief in the person she had become
helped to make her strong.
She is intelligent, kind and caring,
lives by great values
she gathered on her journey through life.
A person more than enough
for Those who love her.
This is how God made her
born the way she is.
Our feet bleed,
Stepping
Upon shards of glass
As we trod
This rough-and-tumble path
that is life.
It's a vast, rugged terrain
Full of roadblocks,
Yet we walk it,
Day after day
Not knowing when
It will trip us up
And it inevitably will,
It's no bed of roses!
Oftentimes
It does knock us
Flat on our faces
But not for long
Whenever we do fall down
We always rise up
In one piece.
There is no excuse
To keep lying on the ground
As though
It's a comfortable bed
So whenever you tumble
And fall in the dirt
Rise like the Phoenix, my friend;
Rise up to your feet,
Instantaneously
Dust yourself off
And soldier on!
Date written and posted: 03/16/2019
I know why you follow him.
Dolls can never admit a rough and tumble
bad boy is what they want. In your stainless
steel world? There is no room for graffiti.
It simply isn’t okay for something to feel so
deliciously dirty. I promise you, I get it.
I know why you follow him.
Dolls never want the ones who are polished.
Until they are cracked in half by the guys
with unholy rough edges. Even then?
Nothing else but their blood can fill the
cracks. It’s a hell of a glitch of the mind.
I know why you follow him.
Baby doll, stalking is so much fun isn’t it?
Just imagine finding one exactly like him.
Honesty will lead you to the promise land.
But you’re content with a cuss and crush
session every time you read his poetry.
I know why you follow him.
Dolls get addicted to a fantasy so fast.
It’s a living breathing romance novel.
Will he? Could he? Does he really like that?
A twin flame and he’s so safely away.
But you get with his head every single day.
Baby doll I know why you follow him
because I follow him too.
The Two Little Cubs: A Quest for identity.
(A Cautionary Tale)
Two little leopard cubs
One shy, one bold,
went out to play
in the wild wide world.
Bold so bright -
Life a big adventure.
Shy so quiet-
Life a no go venture.
Played games together-
Shy learnt from Bold,
Rough and tumble
Not always gentle.
Which one do you think escapes
the focus of real danger?
Hidden out of sight...
Aqua Marine Musing again...
31 March, 2025.
True story captured by a wildlife photographer.
Lions are the fiercest of enemies for leopards. They attack and kill leopards without hesitation. The more adventurous cub, not yet
fully experienced in life was killed by lions. The "shy" cub escaped... To live another day.
Reminds me of Proverbs 22:3
"The shrewd one sees the danger and conceals himself.
But the I experienced keep right on going and suffer the consequences..."
WHERE ARE THE MEN
Where are the men that once lived here
few men remain of yesteryear,
Beautiful masculinity,
Artfully carved of dignity
The command and gruff within his voice,
The rough and tumble is his choice,
His love for femininity,
choosing the woman he'll wed to bear his seed
First a crown to his own mother's head,
Adjoined in the authority of his father's stead.
Takes his place within the world,
Only leaving his mother when he finds his girl.
Where are the men braving the fight for truth,
for the branding of mankind from his youth.
Where are the men, the way men were meant to be
God is calling his creation, "Come back to me!"
At night I dream of frogs and princesses.
How I would love to wear pastel bright dresses
Dolls and skipping do me enthral
Soccer does nothing for me at all
That's when I'm called a big girl's blouse
That's when deep inside I feel like a louse
Quietly chatting to girls instead of the boys
Who love rough and tumble and make loads of noise
Such moments define my true gender
I hate it when the boys call me a bender
Why can't they leave us to our own choice of roles
instead of forcing us into rigid moulds?
There must be girls who yearn to be male
I for my part would wish them all well.
Dawn seeps soundlessly in to scatter the darkness.
Around is silence and quiet and calm.
From my lofty balcony, I can admire the serenity
Of the vast immensity of the ocean, all smell of balm.
Let tranquillity invade my lonely soul, O Lord.
The arduous day will soon be full of all its pains.
And I am old, too old to face the vexatious turmoil
That surrounds me, for I am all aches and sprains.
How can I face the rough and tumble of this misery?
I need wisdom to discern all that is foolish and vain,
I need peace to avoid worries and other upsets.
I need love to forgive others’ injuries and bane.
Life is short and I’m much too old to bear pains.
Death will be a relief from all that troubles me.
However life is precious and I will live it through,
Only with your genial grace that comes from Thee.