Long Scads Poems
Long Scads Poems. Below are the most popular long Scads by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scads poems by poem length and keyword.
Not that folks out there are keeping score--
But I envision myself as something... more
However, the main obstacle getting in my way
Is predicting what could go wrong every day
Particularly because I tend to be strait-laced
No place around here is hiring me with haste
I didn't succeed in school to prep for a career
Now I lack proper income, year after year...
Even with 2 A.A.'s-- and scads more classes
Finding my niche has been slow as molasses
Now I found out that with just my library card
There's access to free courses which I regard
That should have been my entire college ed!
But they made me go, so I got debt instead
Sometimes I feel I do not belong in this city
But independence requires being more gritty
Yet since my goal is not merely to impress
I often long for simplicity, something... less
Imagining rising early-early to tend a small farm
Except I can't myself cause an animal any harm
I could gather hen eggs and learn to milk a cow
Would I be dedicated with my hand to the plow?
Fickle as I am, my indecisive discernment
Confuses me as where to be God's servant
Would I find purpose in the White Violet Center
Helping with crops and alpaca, being a mentor
Or am I destined to keep putting up with this mess
Stuck here in a trial of patience, & learning to bless
Being here for my mom later, in her elderly age
As she was here for me, from my earliest stage
I don't mind my role as a helpful "volunteer lady"
But I hope for job security, without turning shady
Perhaps my hobbies and art could be an online biz
Earning my bread without shoplifting as in Les Mis
Probably I missed my chance to be a cloistered nun
Now that I'm too old, & tried to have too much fun
It's just as well, since I need to take care of myself
Avoiding kidney stones doesn't contribute to my pelf
And in what climate could this Little Flower grow...
Do I really need all this sun, or could I endure snow
Have I been complaining literally this whole poem?
Guess that's what happens when I'm bored at home
Through it all, God has done great things for me
I'd like to offer more to show how He set me free
Friday the thirteenth, (September
tooth house hind nineteen)
dark shadows winessed scads of bats
(base sic cully lobbing soupy Matzo balls)
eyeing yours truly as seldom seen
human sacrificial cuisine,
which dime a dozen story true story
red within tabloid National Enquirer 'zine.
Minus blood sucking mammals more averse
than bill collectors or insurance companies
bared fangs greeted yours truly courtesy
of bloodthirsty nurse
triggering instantaneous qualm
ordinarily, I dune hot feel averse
nor nain availing one arm or the other,
wherein needle tip doth stick
prominent vein, yet an idling hearse
unwittingly induced heightened alarm,
on flip Wilson side... sense and sensibility
awoke regarding no impact upon purse
anyway death could never as worse
compared to hand to mouth
dirty deeds done... dirt poor curse.
A deep inhalation induced relaxed state
courtesy ujjayi breath
filled lungs to alleviate
(yea right slim/fat chance analogous
to one sniveling, mutering, groveling...
writer wannabe called upon to curate)
quirky rhyming scribblings
attempting to pass muster
easily, joyfully, worthily...
declared poet laureate
hence hastily erected castle
in the sky fate
meeting divine heavenly lorded
tailor tete a tete
gradually alleviated helter skelter
mental condition within pate
experienced sudden calm
displaced initial panic, thus great
ecstasy donned "FAKE" trumpeting guise
knowing within short shrift
death would assimilate
me, while providing fancy feast
where Desmodontinae
would undulate
this vampire weekend,
aware I prevaricate
and horrible anecdote purely
meant to demonstrate
how believability easily
wrought to fascinate
(ha) captive audience,
he/she exhibiting skeptical trait
might doubt claim (mine), who as inmate
within human zoo forced to risk death
defying daredevil metier height
figurative tightrope walker I gyrate
balanced on iambic foot in toto
all the while able to coordinate
vaguely flowing continuity
eventually metaphorical
erythrocytes coagulate.
1. Shall I narrate you a tale or may be a thousand stories,
Of a lost love and fervent devotion?
Or chronicles of longing and separation?
Mayhap I, relate both as you wish, open your eyes and give me your ears.
2. For I hear no serenade and diversion no more,
I dwell in evanescence of poetry and free verses,
Yet I yearn for a rune of praise, jealousy or even scorn,
Scythe me not, in a circle I whirl and swirl, beloved.
3. This poor heart beckons the chants of your name,
It that be bounteous, splendid and dazzling,
My lungs hymned shall intone in flamboyance,
Beloved, look-see my essence, my being.
4. Be it, am a sycophant, for your favor,
Behave the heart of peccadilloes and lapses.
Reveal to me the cryptic and the arcane,
The venal lushness of your vision, beloved.
5. You are ubiquitous, beloved,
I attest the signs and the hallmarks scattered,
Yet my caravan never reaches the apogee,
Even in silence, in solitude and slumber I journey.
6. Like the moon, sun and star scads,
Darkness and light, in their sheer vanity,
You are the whole and abound in majesty,
Behold arrogance and vanity are veraciously only yours, beloved.
7. Like a spinning wheel always in motion,
Not a second escapes a nix from your vision,
Yet foundered in my bewilderment you notice me not,
Withal, I carry on until that day when you do, with devotion.
8. Betide a sudra untouchable, so be it my karma,
Yonder I move stubbornly towards my moksha,
Let fate excruciating me to annihilation and redemption,
To my nirvana, peace and nothingness in you, beloved.
9. Importuned, the day you alight by the door,
Ready will I be, no need to knock, alas just enter,
For all doors are yours, be sited beloved while I fetch my flute,
For the flute had been seeking its reed bed.
10. No doors, no restraint in my heart, there is only you,
Always plenteous and as wide as the ocean,
No walls, no locks and no curtains can resist,
For this heart is your dwelling place, for, you never left, beloved.
A whistling wheezing hamlet, whispering and emanating, tunes euphonic,
In a remote isolated valley, far-flung from the abode of the temporal,
Warbling quietly to whistle scads of tranquil cryptic songs;
Lying spasmodic, a sparsely inhabited mellifluous hamlet, Kongthong!
Not to hyperbole, a singing utopia, uncustomary to the core!
Where innate and mellow are the naive dwellers' rustic tinkling timbres!
A rover's riddle, the natives' pride, a unique heritage, their blissful strains!
Ringing with an ancient tradition of tune-giving in honour of the root ancestress,
Customary to the matrilineal surviving unknown folk of the thorp!
The chirping region's dispositions and practices outlandish, vague and obscure,
Primitive and bizarre, mere to merge with nature's absolute accord!
Voices buzzing in whistles, murmuring and chattering, lilting,
Arcane, pervading the virgin thicket of the sacred thorpe!
To entangle, passerby and wanderers in dream like metaphors!
Those magical murmurs in quirky tunes, mingling the breeze of the secluded hamlet, intoning own tinkles!
Blessed are the tuning terrain's offsprings, nameless!
Rared by ditties, hailed sacred by the clan's conviction!
Outlying, by the uninhabited enchanting wilderness of East Khasi Hills,
Sleeping quietly the untrodden, nature's lulling lullaby, the whistling Kongthong!
Yell! Immaculate and serene, the saga of their undeciphered airs, mumbling in exquisite ethos!
Inimitable and gripping to eye, how the denizens of the tribe,
Are crooning to dub and call each other by indigenous intonations!
Pitching and whooshing, to tune their melodic identities unique!
Whew! The picturesque terrain is tweeting, whooping, and whizzing!
Heaven! Bless anomalous nature's absolute pamphlet,
The ringing Kongthong, God's own whistling hamlet!
Non Human Sensate Beings Linkedin, Sans Omnipotent Bonds
Extant latent forcefields transcend
across avast panoply multitudinous biosphere
scads of diverse living entities
innately born with
inherent capacity to care
embedded within cellular
pith and marrow,
sans plethora of unlike those
pesky conniving Facebook organisms,
the former declare
affinity, not only
each among their
own divergent species,
(but even among
disparate dissimilar cohabitants
on planet Earth genetically embedded
with unique potential to engineer
unprecedented feats encompassing
inexplicable ability to forge fair
lee sharing recognized quintessential
pronounced emotive displays clear,
lee offering, kindling... robust amity
legion between distinctly
obviously, and glare
ringly different life forms
unlike themselves, here
roll ding an unheeded object lesson
for *****sapiens, hell bent
somehow inexplicably bound by
dominant, important, omnipotent...
(of course except for this gent,
ha, who strives to be selflessly attendant),
and yes undoubtedly
other people cogent
against trumpeting xenophobic fervent
rants particularly against
migrants, who spent
blood, sweat and tears
forced into poverty
and misery, asper Native Americans
with deliberate intent
at genocide hundreds
of years ago (AND still)
today bedraggled indigenous
grievous national and global event,
where power hungry exploit powerless,
the latter kept bound by belligerent
hot headed racist, narcissistic,
misogynistic, egotistic...
"FAKE" prez steaming vehement
diatribes lambasting decent
folks, his oozing rabid hate doctrine
obvious enemy of freedom, versus
patriotic stalwarts, growing voice of cohorts,
who love Lady Liberty
ready to die and foment
revolution if necessary against REAL agent
provocateurs such avaricious cupidity I lament!
the joyous partner the microwave
it has become my chef
alas not quite my mother's hand
but for its swiftness of foot
there is no other
yes i survive on the TV dinner
oh dear Lord i have shown my age
frozen until my vittles need calling
it is a world of the chophouse
from a hashery where most dine
no fuss, just plain celerity needed
those exquisite tastes, hidden within
lucious noodles and sauces
from white to red
and should that become a disaster
there is always ketchup
Siracha, Hot Mustard, Orange, Honey
it is almost endless for Asia
the frozen dinner section sublime
those long rows packaged and waiting
almost a walk in the Lourve of paintings
as you ogle those reflections in frosted doors
i become a child on Christmas morning
Master Chef in TV Dinnerland
the trick is in the additions
a tad of salsa, or perhaps sour cream
of course scads of butter on taters
A1 or H57 sauce on the meatloaf, or Salisbury
in the vegetable department a loverly
chopped, ready-to-go medley
of onion, celery, and carrot
jalapenos, green chilis, olives
come already in cans chopped
simply sprinkle on at last minute
but the greatest joy held in my heart
is when i place the holy offering
i would never eat, retrieved from garbage
into that loverly microwave
always upon a microwave-safe plate
gently affixing an impediment to door
wait for that loverly moment
when that pesky fly enters to dine
slam the door in most haste
hit that 3-minute button
nothing more civilized than well done
then wait for that pure joy
when the whistling, whirling stop
light goes off, and the wonderful
ding, ding, ding of a job well done
let the philosophers and theologians
go on, and on about revenge
but i vote it is best when microwaved
loverly i say
OKC 7/01
Albeit cold shower with sudden zoo
ming onset of
brisk fallen temperatures
may not be amenable to you
dear reader, but after Matthew
sets to washing
creating substantial lather,
visited with healthy slew
of frothed shampooed hair do
(cuz - jest like
Spongebobsquarepants,
I like abundant suds),
which initial shock
of cold water jolts mine
body inducing "Whew"
to escape soaped over mouth
(here, lemme lean in
so yukon get a whiff)
this self proscribed
quasi (very diluted off the
Peco boo grid) deprivation
of hot H2O tolerance,
qua minimal self
elected survivalist
modus operandi value
bull electric kool aid acid test
undertaken in the
event devastating adversity
(mainly an electricity
power outage) doth render
livingsocial uncomfortably
cold to the bone and sinew,
where mind over matter decides
riches superfluous,
especially if parvenu,
when scads of back up
generators conk out
total unbelievable wreckage,
sans the overnight
natural germane Blitzkrieg
imposes savage apocalyptic
devastating hellacious milieu
(on account of a mega disaster
such as hurricane Michael), who
doth not indiscriminate
toward gentile or Jew
obliterating entire infra
structure super glue
equalizing economic disparity hew
wing fair playing field reducing
whether disposable wealth harkens
from "old" money, and/or nouveau
riche, this sudden
catastrophic event brew
till lee decrees indeterminate
penury, and trappings
of theoretical leisure class
bon voyage every stitch of cloth,
and other material goods
forcibly bade i.e. adieu.
Scads of decades ago...
Metaphorical mama's yoyo
came undone, unleashing woe
doggone wizard of oz sought in toto
afore final picture show
would play staging pro
sic cuter determining
irrevocable fate oh no!
Approximately this time of year
(circa mid December) as
Christmas holiday doth near,
yours truly donning his unrecognizable
incognito custom tailored corporeal wear
well worn, timeworn, and careworn
birthday suit - most
frightening Halloween scare
transient boyhood lad
spooked with fear
courtesy grizzled old man,
who toothless doth glare
at much younger self
sporting scraggly gray hair
searches happy go lucky,
innocently naive, fancy free
and footloose spare
slip sliding away shy kid 'ere
timid, solitary, reservedly...
imperfect triangulated square
peg in round hole
quizzically, soundlessly... mere
roaring, reflecting, and ruminating
riddled with despair
methinks him foreigner, stranger, harbinger...
unavoidable, hellacious, catastrophic...
pitfalls he ain't aware
impossible mission to bolster near
deadly encounters with
maniacal mailer daemons
stealing his harmony, jollity, spontaneity...
knocking him out stone cold no prayer,
nor wing can revive, he will appear,
whence straddling prepubescence
agonizingly scared shuffling, skulking
sputtering... collapsing upon
his scrawny derriere
bony posterior subjected
necessary iron injections
courtesy Harriet Harris (mother)
licensed practical nurse buttressing
emaciated frame hiding her tear
filled eyes, while sole son
wishes grim reaper cursed harridan
freely clutching him onto elysian fields,
where abound spirits
of grateful dead everywhere.
Sweet September, see how splendidly she shines!
Subtlety submitting seasonal splendour, she
swamps summer’s splendiferous sights,
by stealthily shrouding splendid scenery,
with suffused sensuous, sybaritic, scenarios!
Sublimely serene, she spatters and splashes
slivers of saffron, sepia and sienna shades,
slapdash over the sedentary summer scene, sending
sightseers silly! Soon, spooky spectres sporting skittish
shadows, surprise and startle singularly sensitive givens,
seeking soothing solitude someplace. Suspicious solo
sentient stalkers, suspecting solo sailors sometimes, shiftily seen
spying on sequestered sibylline, spectator savants, stay silent.
Such suppressed servile sophisticates, spotting smart
Seedy Senators, sitting sloppily slumped - some silently
supine - send sensual suggestive signs to sexy secretaries, as
subdued sartorial suitors stand speechless. Some, sober and staid,
state spasmodic spates of salacious, and sometimes sanctimonious, statements.
Seemingly superfluous, scores of servicemen and seniors suggest
specific superficial senile support services, should shut shortly!
Studious spokesmen suggest scads of spurious suggestions in September,
send scrambled signals, since severely symbolic sentence structure,
should seek speedy severance from sedulous speculative stricture, and
stimulating scattered sophomore senses and sensibility is senseless!
Since scathingly scanning this alliteration, it seems successful!
Hopefully a fun filled frolicking folio with ‘fin-esse?’
Rhymer. September 6th, 2016.
Shelah is an autumn fairy who loves pumpkins, squash, and maize.
She lives in the best oak tree in Semi-Forgotten Forest.
Old lady down the road makes quilts, so she snags material for free.
So many fat quarters at Ethel's, she rarely misses these small pieces.
Shelah's digs are amazing! She loves color, patterns, textures.
Pink polka dotted curtains, orange striped throws, couch with red dogs.
Double love seat in neon green paisley which took a little more material.
Ethel has tons, she will not live long enough to use it all anyway.
Shelah’s hobbies are simple - quilting, painting, and poetry.
She had no computer, her mother says it would corrupt her
TVs are out. She has an energy that kills them instantly.
Her electrical field goes counterclockwise, she is an empath.
She teaches young fairies to quilt. They are all making bedspreads.
Luckily Ethyl has a lot of material, I mean scads of it.
Shelah is presently teaching eighteen teenage faeries quilting
Boy faeries too? Damn right! They are faeries right?
If you want to join Forgotten Forest Chamber of Commerce
Here is the application form. Please fill it out legibly.
Are you fast? Can you fly in and out of windows carrying material?
Have you made some narrow escapes? Did you like it?
Shelah is the head of every committee; she will explain your initiation.
Due to her being bright, wise, intelligent and bossy, she is Queen here.
We other faeries are in awe of her and of her beautiful quilts.
One last question. Can you carry slippery stuff like silk and satin?