Long Satire Poems
Long Satire Poems. Below are the most popular long Satire by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Satire poems by poem length and keyword.
Now, seriously, folks
we're taking it a bit too far
to call Elon Musk's
vehicles "Swasticars".
The brand-new Tesla SS
could be the fastest, fascist car, I guess,
and I know that what he says is spurious,
but that's no reason to make him fuhrerious.
With his advisors, he should've had a conference,
as he clearly did nazi the consequence
and the total, utter shock
of a serious drop in Tesla stock.
I know his stiff-arm gesture is in dispute,
but it was just an "innocent Roman salute".
Clearly, things have gotten really bizarre,
so let's stop deriding the Naz...
the guy who makes Swasticars.
A long time ago in those days of old,
there was one thing we were supposed to do.
They scribbled it down in letters of gold,
treat others as you would have them treat you.’
We are supposed to love all our neighbors,
feed the hungry and help protect the weak.
If anyone should ever do us wrong,
that’s when we should show them the other cheek.
A crime’s not a crime if we all do it,
a lie’s not a lie if we all believed.
We’re too busy lining our own pockets,
to worry if we are being deceived.
Defending ourselves is our given right,
our ten AR-15’s will work just fine.
Send them illegals back to Mexico,
then all the rest of them will toe the line.
But now we are all modern-day Christians,
and our hearts are filled with anger and greed.
We’ll kneel down in church on Sunday morning,
and pray to God for the things we don’t need.
Don’t want to hear about the poor and sick,
about how life for them might seem unfair.
There is no need to lend a helping hand,
unless there is some way to get our share.
I’m not so sure how it all came about,
how love was replaced by hate, greed, and wealth.
It is no longer ‘United We Stand,’
but it’s ‘Each man must look out for himself.’
We no longer fear for our judgment day,
too many times our faith’s been bought and sold.’
We now live in our own Hell here on earth,
and Heaven stayed back in those days of old
This is Graduate School
What do you expect?!!
This is graduate school!!
The girl, glowed in her importance!!
This work was important!!
And who did he think he was, shirking work!
Our importance is pivotal.
For without importance, we’d have no artifacts.
And our importance oozes from smokestacks and chokes the very breath we breathe!
And our importance keeps us safe from the Jones’ below us, those miscreants!!
And our importance makes us real!!
We put a man on the moon!
I am that I am! I am MAN!!!
And my towers reach to heaven and scream, “I no longer have need of you!”
But at night, some nights at least.
I look up to the sky,
And realize that I am stuck on a spinning rock, with no way out, and I have no idea where
I came from or where I am going?
And I know panic!
Ole Poppycock said the British clock maker.
While setting his alarm clock which was the building block
of his foundation.He purchased penny stock at four o'clock
and future stock on Wall Street today.
Ole Poppycock said the Dutch soda drink maker.
George Washington did not cut down the Cherry Tree.
He placed a cuckoo clock under the chopping block,
and becasue of a culture shock purchased New York Common stock,
at the stock exchange today.
Ole Poppycock said the British Law Maker.
You're only trying to make me the laughingstock of London.
Place your pig's belly on the butcher-block,and play me some acid rock,
before we experience another earthquake aftershock.
Sign your John Hancock and be on your way.
Nonsense Poetry by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2016..ALL rights reserved.
Driven toward sin
Wild as the wind
Laughing out loud
Surfing through the clouds
Be Free
Be Free
Be Free
Rules bend
Time never wins
Luck she's my friend
Tomorrow always begins
Be Free
Be Free
Be Free
Love who's near
Die before fear
Be real without a care
Say what you want to hear
Be Free
Be Free
Be Free
Heaven is my night
Stars are my light
Days are for fun
Running with the Sun
Be Free
Be Free
Be free
See to be seen
Getting dirty to stay clean
Being awake while you dream
Smiling when you scream
Be Free
Be Free
Be Free
Poor to be rich
Mother Nature is my hitch
Smooth is my catch
Scratch if you itch
Be Free
Be Free
Be Free
Live to live
Give to give
Be just to be
I am always with me
Be Free
Be free
Be Free.
I gasp, when you split your tight skirt
I’m shocked, your G string’s on display
It serves you right you dreadful flirt
I’m sure you knew my neighbor's gay!
He’s handsome with eyes of teal blue
Yet has no interest in you
Still you tried hard to seduce him
Right in front of his partner Jim
When you split your tight skirt I’m shocked
I gasp, your G string’s on display
You dreadful flirt, I’m sure you knew
My neighbors gay, it serves you right
A cougar could tempt a straight guy -
you’ve no chance with him… say goodbye!
Charonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina
09/03/20
[5]He sits in a corner
Like a stranger in wander.
He knew it wasn't worth it
Yet asunder became winner,
Now he is a lone ranger
For giving in to the
Home breaker.
Anger, slander, character,
Causing matrimonial
Disaster.
[10]He carried his lunchbox
In order to catch up with
The school bus...,
Pale, pathetic, not to
Miss daddy's absence
Is a paradox,
For he could not understand
Why things are thus.
All he knew is daddy's
Painful absence.
[15]All day long his image crept in,
She tried to let it go but
It remained within.
Her bed seemed bigger
And the time looked slower,
Love missing in action,
For anger, slander, character, causing
Matrimonial disaster.
[20]Silhouette of a broken home,
Love turned sour...
If you think is to garbage
And retire, then you're
A lair and a romantic slacker
For letting the innocent
Child suffer...
Yes I eat meat,
I'm not a vegan; nor
vegetarian ... is it !?
I have pills,
I'm not a homeopath ...
Okay, but I'm healthy!
If I don't get excited (easily)
and I don't exercise ...
they call me blasé, sedentary !?
Well at the right measure I'm fine ...
If I eat little,
am anorexic !?
I drink a lot,
do i belong to AAA?
If the world locks up,
it's not my fault...
If I say little, they tell me
closed, airtight ...
If I talk too much, I am
talkative, mouthy ..!?
Ah! stop it...
live your lives,
do action ...!
Remember all those tea ads with the chimps on?
We’ll prostitute the Prague of Gustav Mahler
and desecrate the divas of La Scala.
Would Bart betray begettor Homer Simpson
(he’s not so much a whoreson as a pimp-son)
to get himself a Chevrolet Impala?
You bet he would. This is the Grab-It Gala.
The cripple pawns the plaster that he limps on.
In Pasadena, Pimlico and Perth,
the only thing we´ll go without is girth.
Where JP Morgan’s played by Colin Firth,
we airbrush self-awareness, muffle mirth,
and drown in plenty, blink at moral dearth.
We're always prizing price-tag, never worth.
When prayers turn to pleas couched in a veil,
And pujas, covert pleas for His pardon,
When Bandagis beg— a bargain for a bail,
Worships aim for a vaunted place in sun;
When sacrifices seek choicest of fruits,
Charities search for a place in heaven,
Gifts get given to gain matching return,
Pilgrimage a pass-time, no search for roots.
Bless me Lord still, let my hopes breathe alive,
I pray thee that in peaceful sleep I rest—
Assured in luxury-laden a nest,
I pray that honey sweeten my beehive,
And as ye keep well-supplied my huge store,
I swear to love thee, if so, all the more.
____________________________________________
This sonnet is sung rather tongue-in-cheek and is a light satire on prayers that be veiled pleas for wanting something or the other and are not rendered as thanks-giving to God, as all prayers should be.
Sonnets | 17.11.08 |