Long Rudely Poems
Long Rudely Poems. Below are the most popular long Rudely by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rudely poems by poem length and keyword.
I’m tired of influencers faking nervousness.
my generation wants to care less
these days.
it’s a counter-current hack.
we want to be less defined.
we can search and reflect for ourselves.
we’re sick of the emotion
that’s all over everyone’s faces,
the unsightly splotches of opinion.
the entire election machine,
the process of getting there, is smudged.
It’s a curated mess, an advising spin,
an incomprehensible hex:
“Oh profit pondering,
contradictory means to an end
- bless weave, and conceal,
bloodless dollar debt options,
painful penny pincher paradoxes,
and deadly debt bliss dilemmas..”
“Is this a witch or an arbitrager?” Lisa asked, after rudely leaning over and reading up to this point.
“I was shooting for a numinous type of beat,” I revealed.
“We’re supposed to be working on our thesis definitions,” she said accusingly.
“Are you not challenged, here, hour by hour?” I asked sarcastically.
“I need ideas - well - I have too many ideas, I need some focus, I wanted to see what you had.”
I deadpan looked at her, “Well, you broke the spell - I lost my train.” I complained dryly.
“Don’t put me in a situation.” she said, waving my gripe off as insignificant.
.
.
Songs for this:
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
drive ME crazy! by Lil Yachty
Melt by Nilüfer Yany
At a corner cafe', in south central Marseilles,
While drinking imported Chablis
As people passed by, from the corner of my eye
Came a lady, she was smiling, at me
Well I looked around, feeling like a clown,
At the patrons, sitting nearby
They seemed to be lovers, talking to each other
I spun around, just in time, to say "hi"
"No parlez vous Englaise", was all she could say
So I stood up and pulled out a chair
But she walked up and hugged me, practically mugged me
Then kissed me like we were a pair
I shook myself loose, held up a deuce
For the waiter to bring her a glass
Then I sat back down, still looking around
Expecting to be rudely harassed
She had dark mousey hair, and oh what a pair
Of the sexiest dark brown eyes
I guessed her for thirty, obviously flirty
When the waiter finally arrived
He poured her some wine, she looked over at mine
Got up, started walking away
Then turning her head, In English she said
"Who the hell drinks imported in Marseilles"
by Daniel Turner
In His eyes was the wisdom of the ages,
In His hands there was kindness and love,
His manner was tender and quiet,
In His smile was a light from above.
He travelled the highways and byways,
Spoke to rich man and beggar alike,
He taught in the streets and the temples,
Brought comfort and healing and light.
He spoke of His reason for coming,
And a home for the faithful and true,
At first He was loved by many,
And then by only a few.
He was taken to court in the city,
And put through a mockery trial,
He was hung on the cross without pity,
And taunted and rudely reviled.
Why did they do this to Jesus,
A Man who would never abuse,
His countrymen laughed and they mocked Him,
He said He was King of the Jews.
I heard them on the porch.
They crept up stealthily, like ninjas.
Not wanting to be heard, initially.
Their breathing was so loud, it woke me before I noticed their scurrying. They scurried like
Small, heavy, hundred pound baby bears.
I peeked at them from behind my curtain.
Started to count them. One, two, three, four, at least five.
I wondered if the little ones
Would survive. The largest ones were mean and aggressive.
They slapped each other’s hands as it reached for the cat food.
Lots of screeching. Not ninja-like now.
Angry if anyone else wanted a nibble.
The biggest one was not sharing
even one tiny sand-like crumb with the little ones.
Their mother?
I hope not. If so, she should be ashamed of herself.
The little ones began to busy themselves trying to find
Crumbs of crumbs of crumbs anywhere on the porch.
She was not sharing.
I felt sorry for the little beasties as I watched them hunt in vain
While maybe mom feasted in front of them.
Slurping wildly, and rudely.
If this was their mother,
She was giving them more than a bit of a hint
To stop following her and find their own food.
They followed her off the porch
As she left, fat, satisfied, and selfishly full.
I was working out on the elliptical machine in the gym, feeling good and watching
the "Calories Burnt" number climb higher and higher.
Then, I noticed a rather shapely and attractive woman step off of the machine two
rows in front of me. As she turns and faces me, I cannot help but notice that the
nipples on her rather large breasts are erect and pressing against her sweat
soaked, tight t-shirt.
When working out, and at other times as well, I suppose, I sometimes drift off and
just stare into space not really cognizant of what I am looking at while lost in
thought.
I must have been doing this as this young woman started walking towards me on
her way to the drinking fountain.
She stops abruptly in front of me and says, rather curtly, "Why don't you take a
picture?"
Snapping out of my temporary coma, I respond, "I'm sorry - what?"
"You seem to be staring at my breasts," she rudely insinuates.
Now, at times like this, in a confrontational moment, I like to try to immediately get
on the attack and, sometimes, in my panic to do so, I can say the stupidest things.
In this case, I come back with, "Are your nipples pointing at me!?"
"What!?"
"Your nipples. They seem to be pointing at me!"
"I assure you, I cannot control what my nipples do."
"And I," I smugly reply, "Cannot control what my eyes do."
"You could look away," she challenges.
"And you could wear a thicker sports bra or sweatshirt", I respond.
At this she just glares at me with hate in her eyes and steam emitting from her ears.
I stare back with my smug grin, alternating my look between her eyes and her
breast.
So, of course, you know, we made wild passionate love in the equipment room at
the back of the gym.
And, just before we climaxed in a frenzied, naked and sweaty embrace, ...
... I woke up from my nap on the couch.
This is when I got up, changed into my sweatpants and went to the gym for a
workout.
In the saloon Tom, Jenna and Tania were talking about Christmas week
They wanted to spread some cheer for the good folks of Soup Creek
Tom thought Milton would make a good Santa and hoped he'd agree
Their meeting was rudely interrupted with sounds of a noisy melee.
They went outside and Ranger David was looking very bemused
In handcuffs was a scruffy individual who was looking very confused
And had mean beady eyes with long hair and a long unkempt beard
He was shouting obscenities waving his arms and acting very weird.
Just then Sherrif Koplin appeared and asked David what was wrong
David replied "I think he's on drugs or he's been in the sun too long
I was over by Calypso Canyon on patrol, when I came across him
He pulled a gun on me but it jammed, and said his name was Jim"
Sheriff Koplin said "he's scaring the kids we'd best get him inside
Then I'll telegraph Doctor Keller to come and get him certified
I'll put him in the jailhouse for his own safety and for ours too
Maybe he needs a spell in an asylum that's probably long overdue.
The overland stage arrived next morning, Doctor Keller had arrived
It had been a long sleepless night for the Sheriff but he'd survived
Because the unruly prisoner had shouted obscenities all night long
And for a man to behave in that way something was seriously wrong.
Dr Keller had brought an assistant along, who looked like an assassin
The doctor spoke briefly with the Sheriff then to the jail they went in
The docs assistant had a straightjacket and rope; tools of the trade
A crowd had gathered to listen to the racket that was being made.
They came out half an hour later with the patient who was now secure
But in the scuffle had badly soiled himself and stunk of fresh manure
Doctor Keller approached the towns people and he had this to say
"This poor wretched man is quite sick and we'll be taking him away"
The overland stage then arrived in town and all three climbed inside
A journey to Sacramento Asylum was about a five and a half hour ride
The driver shouted and cracked his whip and they were soon on their way
"Good riddance to you " said Sheriff Koplin "don't come back any day.
written on 22nd November 2022
I felt alone, though there were multiple crowds around me.
I felt, I should go to a lonely place and cry aloud.
Why, though the environs are full of flowers, there's no glee?
Death snatches the joys of the humble as well as the proud.
You were young. You, often, dreamed of a new heaven and earth.
Your thoughts, words, actions, and aspirations shone with newness.
You said you would define the fate that defined each one's birth.
Amidst your shrewdness, there was in you coolness and smoothness.
You were a friend to all. Your heart was full of love for all.
You were as uncommon as a blue moon or a shooting star.
Why should Destiny rudely send you an untimely call?
Why should you, as though the life here is not enough, go far?
Will those blissful days of fun and frolic ever come back?
Will my wistful moments, towards optimism find their track?
I'm going to take myself to dinner
Guess you could say a date
I'll make sure to bring myself home early
I know how I hate to stay out late
I'll order off a fancy French menu
Just to try and impress myself
Cause when it is that I go out
I treat myself like no one else
I'll carry on a great conversation
But of course underneath my breath
I don't want those at the next table
To think I'm talking to myself
I might even order off the desert menu
Though I know I'm trying to watch my weight
I'll ask for one spoon instead of two
Don't want to get too weird on this date
When the bill does come around
I won't hesitate to pick it up
And I won't rudely gasp and comment
That I think I ordered the expensive grub
I'll drive straight back to the house
Then tell myself goodnight
Saying I had the best of times
Then go inside and shut the lights
Before we were so rudely interrupted
We thouroughly enjoyed a chance we’ve got
We couldn’t foresee our plans will be disrupted
I didn’t know our time would be so short
Five happy years, then one day a curtain falls
So terribly alone, I sit and cry
You speak to me again, and the wheel rolls
I’m scrolling back to hear your previous reply
The messenger archive contains our story
I’m praying for the safety of our time
They can erase us without saying sorry
They can do anything, and we can only die
You’ve gone away, it means we’ve had enough
Of this old world, of all its joy and pain
Let’s die again, the cause of death is love
Your voice with me forever will remain.
In the vortex of a maelstrom, I was rudely thrown
drowning in turbulent waters for an error I bemoan,
a blunder of loving someone who chose to whittle
away at my heart until it became fragile and brittle
Bereft beyond the point of caring if I lived or died
My eyes were scarlet, burning from tears I'd cried
But they became transfixed, immutable on a fire stoked
for my normally tenuous demeanor had been provoked
I was a genteel lady, who demurely acquiesced to love
but it was time for me to throw down the gauntlet glove
I was chaffed by what had been just an interlude for him,
an escapade, a mere dalliance, a rascally romantic whim
I drew a rough sketch; in likeness of my vagabond swain
an abstract portrait, in Picasso's style, the face of my bane
Black eyes were hollow, blind orbs that would never see
that his trifling peccadillo tryst was a brutal betrayal to me
The painting was delivered as twelve bells pealed midnight
I watched as he unwrapped it, but carefully kept out of sight
A formidable opponent I had become to his knavish ways
In the moonlight his face turned pale; his eyes were glazed