Long Rude Poems
Long Rude Poems. Below are the most popular long Rude by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rude poems by poem length and keyword.
Interrupting a person in a rude way
Makes me irritable much of the day.
I do not yell and scream or even say.
But it makes my heart unhappy and gray.
I would rather be alone, sitting without a word
Than to be interrupted, which is totally absurd.
It shows a lack of manners, empathy or technique.
It’s something that only a boorish person would seek.
“Excuse me!” is ridiculous when they decide to interrupt.
It makes me angry. My bad feelings are ready to pop and erupt.
Pretending to be mannerly when you are in every way rude.
Makes me angry, positive proof that you have the wrong attitude.
Email Etiquette
What a gift email is!
No stamps, no envelopes
And no licking an icky stamp.
So, in seconds, a letter is sent!
In the old days, you’d throw stuff out,
Now we have “Trash” but.....alas!
But some read your email,
With family pictures, and you?
Cannot type, thank them?
You just ignore them...
Wow!
The great god, the Internet....
Created rude sons and daughters.
I have seen this at the Soup!
And all over the place!
So addicted to commenting, yes!
To them, you are trash, I guess?
The great God,, the internet?
Ignoring others is a big clue.
Do not send email to those
Who eschew you.
We maybe on the internet!
But motherboards,we are not.
Something ‘rudeheads’ forgot.
Erase them from your list forever.
Hurting others is mean,not clever!
8/10/2021
10:30 PM
Hunger is worldwide; I don't understand why
Trash cans are filled with untouched food
Starvation is real; why must another die?
We can feed the homeless from our food supply;
Or help food banks, it can brighten their mood,
Hunger is worldwide; I don't understand why.
Wasting food is a major issue, we mustn't deny,
We should help if we can and stop being rude
Starvation is real; why must another die?
It's affecting us all; do you hear the earth’s cry?
Not just a “them” problem, I must conclude
Hunger is worldwide; I don't understand why.
We fill our belly with everything that we buy,
And see someone in need and are often shrewd
Starvation is real; why must another die?
Restaurant plates have a ton of uneaten food; sigh,
Our waste can be a lifeline to the homeless dude.
Hunger is worldwide; I don’t understand why,
Starvation is real; why must another die?
*Cicada Dreaming was told to Roland Robinson in 1965 by Julia Charles of the Yoocum Yoocum clans from the area around Wollumbin in the headwaters of the Tweed River, Northern NSW, Australia, and is used with permission. The Cicada Dreamtime Bootheram (lore) involves disrespectful children who turn into cicadas underground, drinking the tree milk (sap) for seven years, until emerging and crying for their parents. It came from an online reference written by S.Starlore, (2018), Cicada Dreaming, which is no longer online.
While commonly known to the people whose lore it is, it is probably new to most of us.
I wrote this in 2021 when I was missing the noise of summer. It now has a few edits and additions.
Tiny Dreamtime children, imprisoned in the earth,
pierce the little tree roots to sip sap beneath the dirt.
For seven years, cicada grubs, as they scratch and dig,
keep getting so much bigger, keep popping off their skin.
One final time, they’re out - up a fence, up a trunk, up a shed.
I collect the shells they've left, when their lead-light wings have spread
"Buzz buzz buzz," they brush past my nose.
All-day the raucous chorus is a non-stop drone.
Above my ringing ears on twigs and sticks and leaves
a thousand bodies cling and rain their yellow wee on me.
Every year they deafen us. The noise is really bad -
crying for their mothers, screaming for their dads.
But, this year there are - none.
I’m surprised that I feel sad.
Where have the mad things gone?
Yellow Mondays, Green Grocers,
Black Princes, Cherry Noses
Much as they annoy me,
I hope that they’ll be back.
Without the story's children,
so noisy, rude, and fun,
the hush of their absence
says that summer hasn't come.
On a cold, dark, winter day at the end of November
I checked into a mental hospital, for what? I can't remember.
I must mention that the people there were crazier than I
So, at first, I could not help but be a little bit shy.
First, I met a depressed woman who was receiving ECT
I shouldn't have been surprised the next day when she couldn't remember me.
Then, I met a girl who claimed she heard the voice of God
The fact that she was deaf made this claim somewhat odd.
Nurses said a woman was doing the “Haldol Shuffle*” because of her meds
Meds can make you dance? I wondered, that’s not what those ads said.
I met a lady who I heard others saying was a bit impulsive
When she introduced himself eight times I saw she was really obsessive-compulsive,
There was a woman being rude with multiple personalities present
She obviously outnumbered me so off to my room I went.
There I met my neighbour who spoke to a person of her creation
I would've said hi, but thought it rude to interrupt their conversation.
Another girl came into the hospital shortly after I arrived
She was a attacked by a wild animal she thought she saw, but thankfully revived.
After awhile of this I began to wonder why am I even here?
I think I'll leave. I’m not near as crazy, that much is clear.
I spoke with the doctor and he agreed that I was perfectly sane
I didn’t need to be there at all, nothing was wrong with my brain.
Yes, these things might seem strange, but they are definitely true
You can even ask the unicorn next to me who was there too!! (NOT)
Have you heard the latest bit of news?
The government can't pick and choose.
Some compromise, but some refuse.
And now the people, again will lose.
The eleventh hour's upon us now.
The one's with power don't know how.
One bends over, one takes a bow.
They milk the system like a cash cow.
I think that it is time for change.
No one thought it'd get this strange.
To wall in our home on the range.
And a prez who looks like he's got mange.
But I digress, I'm getting rude.
Enough is already misconstrued.
No need to drill off shore for crude.
But rather just the facts reviewed.
So in conclusion, it must be said.
The state of the state's run by the fed.
It's all turned grey from blue and red.
It's gotta change or this nation's dead.
Once there was a girl, little hood,
She was a fine mamma, looking good.
Hood decided to take a walk
Didn’t see the wolf watching her like a hawk.
Mesmerised by her swinging ass
He trailed behind watching her sway with class
He said “I gotta have a piece of hood,”
“That ass is juicy and good for food.”
Suddenly he stopped with a frightful stare
Across from her was mamma, papa and baby bear.
The notorious trio who did goldilocks
Just down the road about three blocks
Wolf said “I’m not gonna stand for this.”
The Wolf now was getting pissed.
He draws his ooze and colt 44
Rat a tat tat mama , papa and baby no more.
Smoke clears and he sees hoods’ on the floor
“F--k!” he screams “I killed my wh-re.”
She stirs and looks at him with a smile,
Hood says “Bad boy tonight you get to do d--gystyle.”
I've been nice--and I've been kind
A smile you'll see all the time
No harsh words you'll ever hear
But i'm warning you beware
If you push me to the brink
I won't even stop to think
about the actions I'll display
So you better turn away
Before my bottled up emotions
Cause all kind of bad commotions
There's only so much I can take
Until the point I start to break
Angel wings and halo gone
Replaced by my two devil horns
That will pierce your very soul
When you make me lose control
Of my caring and sweet ways
That I practice every day
Avoiding all the confrontations
Leading to such aggravation
That builds up inside quickly
And there's no where you can be
A burning starts to quickly build
A hot fire and it will
Not decrease until you say
I am sorry for the way
My actions have been rude and mean
Never meant to cause a scene
This message I send to you
I'll be nice if you will too
A hypnotic effect is possessed by this gadget
It could even lead to a syndrome called pagets
Bent over and private its user spellbound
But unsocial and rude to all those around
Multiple noises are deftly emitted
With buttons to press and assets unlimited
Texts dispensed and news accessed
Leaving conversation to certain death
Ring tones abound in public spaces
Phone chat like barkers in public places
photos and selfies posted here and there
All manner of games to further ensnare
Thus putting the user in greater peril
When mobile phones become a menace
To drivers and walkers all absorbed
A selfish misuse to be abhorred
And a blight when the charger is mislaid
And constant debit to be repaid
This amazing gadget should remain in pocket
Until really needed, then out of the closet
Who knows what I seek within me,
In a heap of ashes
neither there is a flame nor any spark.
That passion to live has cooled down,
That fervor to strive and struggle,
My fiery spirit has bowed prone
under the mere weight of grief and woe.
Weary of life's mundane existence
Neither do I fight my fate now
Nor cherish any desires anymore;
Destined to endure this mortal life
I roam across the barren expanse of desert
looking for a guiding trail
in this ever shifting sands of time.
Life, bid me adieu,
Death, hold my hand!
Cast out of the eternal caravan
I gaze longingly at the
rising clouds of dust in its wake.
Oh, It will be a rude awakening
from the cradle of humanity
to repose in the womb of eternity!
~A Brian Strand's contest.
~09/28/18
~"I Wander the Desert Alone" contest
Sponsor Edward Ibeh