Long Short tempered Poems
Long Short tempered Poems. Below are the most popular long Short tempered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Short tempered poems by poem length and keyword.
I Am: Hello guys it’s an honor, fellows
Moe: HELLO!
Larry: HELLO!
Curly: HELLO!
The Three Stooges: HELLOS!
I Am: You’re known as half-wits, birdbrains, knuckleheads,
Curly, you’re known as Porky pine, right?
As a little girl I never appreciated rough-housing humor.
Moe a mean man and you weren’t very bright
I did adore Curly with sisterly affection.
Curly: You ain’t half bad yourself toots! With my reclamation
Moe: Remind me to kill you later, hmm, maybe strangulation
Curly: OK, I’ll make a note of it! Can’t make me worry
Larry: Stick up for yourself Curly!
Moe: Yeah, what do you have to say?
Curly: Well, I oughta—tell ya another day
Moe: You oughta what? Have some finess
Curly: I oughta mind my own business
Moe: That’s better! Porky Pine
I Am: Moe, would you take another question of mine?
Moe: Yeah, make it snappy,
Larry: Moe’s always been too slap happy
I AM: Were you at one time called Ted Healy’s Racketeers?
Moe: The Southern Gent’s, knucklehead! Like the Three Musketeers
I Am: Your genres are farce, slapstick, musical comedy
Curly is the schlemiel—stupid, childish, and clumsy.
Larry is the schlimazel because he's not quite as stupid
but still ends up unlucky with cupid.
Moe, are you the aggressive and short-tempered leader of you three?
Curly: Why coitainly
Moe: The lady, you imbecile, is talking to me,
Curly: Hey, I resemble that remark!
Curly: Hey Moe, I can’t see! I can’t see!
Moe: Why’s that? Is it too dark?
Curly: ‘Cuz I have my eyes closed!
Moe: Wait’ll I punch you in the nose!
I Am: My best Three Stooges episodes were—Brideless Groom,
Disorder in the Court, Malice in the Palace, Sing a Song of Six Pants,
and Heavenly Daze
Larry: That’s five. Miss I Am are you in a haze?
Moe: Yeah Genius!
I Am: Thank you for your calculation, I quess
I Am: Do any one of you have a real job anywhere?
Curly: Why coitainly, I just got a job in a bakery
Moe: You never told me that numskull. What do you do there?
Curly: I’m a loafer!
Larry: That’s not surprising, and tell her you were a chauffer
I Am: Goodnight “Three Stooges” Love and Luck
Curly: Asta! NYUK! NYUK! NYUK!
WONDERS OF IX A (2019)
Millennium is a box of wonders which crave
To get knowledge, values, principle and love.
In my satchel I have eight wonders that drive
Me crazy, frenzied, rabid. But lo how I love
All of them. Composed, wise sane and active
Never fought like cat and dog, or out move.
The first gems Radhika and Ansh, my nerve
One very intelligent, diligent, other silent groove,
Charming, diligent, a helping hand, a sweet dove.
Second are Vidhi and Dhruv, who do their give
Best, oppose, are animadvert, but most all of
Love teachers. Third Pranjal and Mustafa brave
Charming, exasperating, lovely, do behave
Cooly, assist me in executing discipline, gave
Best of them, never rude or arrogant do they prove.
Fourth are Chahat and Vishnu, tacit, cute curve,
Taciturn, intermittently garrulous but catch nerve,
One a couch potato, other eats humble pie is brave.
Fifth wonders are Shikha and Shashank, positive
In my class, effusive, gabby, loquacious, talkative
But sweet natured children, take care of AC groove.
The next wonders are Milsi and Kanan, Gujju native,
Another prolix, chatty and gabby ones who grieve
With Dwij for class indiscipline; all sweethearts of
Sanket, caring, dormant, at times quarrelsome, at eve
Spend time contemplating on their studies. Above
All is Dweesha and Dwip, short tempered, proactive,
Loquacious, friend in enemy, reserved is ready give
Their 100 percent against me with conjurer's glove,
But close to my heart. The last but not least brave
Girl is Vidhi, a Jain, reputed, calm, cute, does have
Empathy for me and Krunal. A sweet girl, will leave
Never just, devoted, staunch behaviour, an octave
Of skills, trustworthy, allegiant, harmonious dove.
In a nutshell, all sixteen are big bucks, a brown clove.
All these eight wonders with Dev, Helik, Vasu move
Crumblesome elements out of my class - proactive.
Mithil, Harsh, Sarthak are above the salt persons. Five
More are wonders driving away my talent out of cave.
I thank again most reverent Kekul madam to pave
A voluble path of IX A with such obedient constructive
Students. Guidance of Sandeep and Sushil inductive;
I counted noses, am success with method inductive.
All dandies, make me a proud, ostentatious teacher alive.
Donald Trump Das Fuehrer's Braggadocio
Wrapped up in the Christmas holiday spirit,
I surmise doth allow
nationally collective obliviousness
to steer ship of state
(these United States)
to suffer retaliatory browbeat
ting activates, detonates, generates
je nais sais quois maliciousness
upon North American consciousness
from wickedly vehement uproarious tirades
the "FAKE" president doth crow,
whereby every word uttered
by the misfit mealy mouthed madman
in the Oval Office directly
impacts Lady Liberty, sans dow
wager even when the brash,
defensive, haughty...commander
in chief doth raised by alternately
by one or both colored eyebrow,
which nonverbal hostile
body language triggers
concomitant domino fallout
to devastating effect,
whereby analogous nee
palpable invisible reverberations
trigger thee threat
of global mortal Kombat flow
war moves the dial on
the Doomsday Clock to foreshadow
the stark realization of glow
bull thermonuclear conflict to hoe
var ominously over planet Earth,
which scenario haint Noah Joe
king matter, cuz
more'n juiced *****sapiens know
wingly, would be decimated,
where from Noel fierce
riding hobby horse, could
weather thee irrevocable low
down, once bombs away loosed,
and poised to strike
every fibrous marrow
with an irreversible tendon cee,
yet some hardy
species might narrow
lee escape radioactive fallout,
and blithely usurp meaning overthrow
this most menacing creature,
whose opposable thumb didst pro
pell the nasty, short tempered,
and mean minded
to upset status quo
and shred of a fatalistic,
graphic, and horrific roadshow
no Wizard of Oz (zee us born)
negating, obliterating, and pulverizing
the uninhabitable landscape
with burnt offerings
much more frightful than scarecrow,
which worst case scenario,
could explode today or tomorrow
leaving no trace of unlovely bones
merely mass cremated powder,
hence forsaked salvation
from... say Beto
O'Rourke, whose actively
democratic gumption joisted paradigm
grim fate recklessly
(hypothetically) did veto.
Nay, despite failing to make the grade,
this bluesy well red, duff mute
average white band hit,
hard knock school alumnus
jack of all trades master of none bumped along
pot hole cratered steep pitch
while riding the bus
bullies skewered kosher me all, cannibalized
carte blanche timid ego
brandishing exacto knife
threatening jugular, cuss
sing maniacally pulling out all stops
going headstrong for this doofuss
Embracing premonition making me mincemeat
vis a vis via, Atilla the Hun plus
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore
after diet of worms
as hors d'oeuvre hug guess
if given a choice, would prefer Loch Ness
monster, or the whale that swallowed Jonah,
either t'would be a quite im press
heave feted feat, versus being poached,
roasted, skewered burnt alive
perhaps sautéed to feed additionally,
the Gothic (Jacks sin) five
the latter adorned with
Bandolier prototype, whence they would jive
to Vandals mess sigh ya,
these last yet another contra band
to play on command, or risk not being
he gee beegee bing a live
all thee above iterated blather spluttered
as punishment against revive
ving human sacrifice by pence hoove lee donning
a new jersey wordlessly trumpeting, and strive
ving assiduously as a one man lobbyist,
and aye willingly negotiate
to take more'n one wive
even though that would be big o' me decor,
thus a last minute reprieve given
without axing por favor
and black keys handed over
to Holy Roman Empire in hoar
rubble ruins (over the Weeknd), thus brutish nasty,
and short tempered surprisingly
(boot not prematurely) ejaculating bon jour
foo fighters actually (grand
aery an nah - did a three sixty)
feting me guest of hun or,
boosting self esteem, the first time
since being a kid in a candy store
which poetic digression
did make quite a dee tour,
and bringing detente amidst marauding
village people hoop reef furred war.
Ice say... water we dew wing to planet Earth?
Tis appalling *****sapiens legacy,
the future survival of species can ill afford
hence we must not dodge and dart away,
but heed urgent call to arms decree fiat,
lest vast gamut of flora and fauna
deprived their rightful respect
courtesy ewe buick wit us ram
me bipedal hominids wresting
driver's seat and steering fate
all species unfairly doomed
analogous to horse and buggy
only far worse, whereat naked ape
that nasty short tempered and brutish
beast finagled, hijacked, besotted,
usurped... sacred covenant taurus
once illustrious precious habitats
escorted to shreds
innocent plants and animals, we
signalled anonymous poetic mouthpiece,
cuz world wide webbed tapestry
irreparably tattered, thus swiftly tailored
measures beg critters to needle
arrogantly depraved, galling humans
violating, tormenting, ruining...
basket of deplorables mankind
violently, obnoxiously, indiscriminately...
destroying carte blanche - absolute
zero guilt whittling, vaporizing,
uglifying, trampling, slashing, razing,
quashing, paving, oppressing,
eradicating, devaluing, burning...
once upon a time edenic oblate spheroid
now crowded house overpopulated
teeming billions wantonly annihilate
at expense of avast extinction
to sustain global industrialization
kickstarting lamentable machinations
spindling, fondling, mutilating
permanently desecrating scarring
wreaking havoc rendering uber
terrestrial plain untenable
massacring, incapacitating Gaia,
she unable to shuck off yoked aggressive
lymphatic, metastatic, narcissistic...
asphyxiation, choking, eradication
biological diversity flummoxed
hounded, jackknifed, liquidated
promulgating me, no matter futile
effort to appeal against doom
fervent clemency against
effrontery, queasy temerity...
mercilessly rained down pell mell
upon inimitable mother nature
unspeakable, unpardonable, unforgivable...
despicable, horrible, ineradicable... demise
affecting every living organism.
Getting dumped
shouldn’t feel like shattering,
but it did.
It cracked something deep,
a place already bruised
by months of breaking silently.
And you knew.
God, you knew.
You knew about the storms I’d weathered,
the weight I was carrying quietly,
the wounds I never wanted to reopen—
but you pried them wide
in a matter of seconds
and called it closure.
You broke me
with a smirk,
like it was nothing.
Then you turned on my best friend,
twisted the one connection I still had
until I was left
with empty air
and a hollow kind of silence
that not even crying could fill.
Two days.
That’s all it took
to lose everyone I trusted.
How did I let it happen?
How did I hand over the hammer
and thank you
for building me up
only to watch you
smash it all down?
I spent a week
sitting in corners,
faking smiles,
relearning how to introduce myself.
It was just me
and the comfort of quiet pages—
books that didn’t ask me to pretend.
Introverted.
Short-tempered.
Scared.
Trying to grow
while everything around me
was crumbling.
And when I finally tried
to explain the weight I carried,
you laughed.
You laughed.
As if mental health was a punchline.
As if trauma was a dare.
As if suicide
was something to joke about
just to see me flinch.
You mocked pain
like it was entertainment.
You turned my brokenness
into a weapon
and aimed it at me every chance you got.
And still,
I stayed.
I let it slide.
Until I didn’t.
Because even if you never saw my worth—
I finally did.
And maybe I should thank you.
Because your leaving
was the beginning
of me finding myself.
You dumped me—
and I dug myself out.
I made new friends.
Laughed real laughs.
Spoke softer,
not because I was weak,
but because I had nothing left to prove
to people who only wanted
to see me fall.
You don’t get to own
what I become.
But I’ll give you this—
you lit the match.
And now I’m fire.
What comes to your mind upon hearing my name?
That I am the moody girl, who walks alone,
Or that that I am the quiet girl who is always at home?
Do you say I am social? - Most likely; no!
Because I do not know that about myself.
But, do you also say that I hate people? - Yes
Because that is what you think of me,
Basing on how I conduct myself in society.
This is what you do not know about me;
You do not know that I try all I can to come out,
In the perfect shape that fits in this modern society,
Where all standards have been raised and,
That if I were to fit amongst you,
I would have to first get rid of my hot temper.
This is known for ruining it all for me, always;
You do not know, that I am afraid I will hurt you,
By my harsh words when something goes wrong before my eyes,
For I would say I am almost a perfectionist in my own world!
You do not know, that I have a lot on my mind,
That keeps tickling me to spit it out,
Yet I find it half- baked and not worthy to be picked up by your busy ears,
Which need to be hear me say there is good justice in the country when there is actually none?
For it would cause me more trouble in the end,
If I fail to defend the words from my own mouth when things go wrong;
Because a short tempered person will do a lot of crazy things,
Yet will hardly remember anything or what made them do it.
This does not justify why I isolate myself,
But may be, it is because I find myself not fit to be one of you.
But still, this does not mean I hate you,
For I would never open up to you,
To tell you my deepest secret if I did not trust or love you.
I know it hurts when I sit apart from you;
So, I only wanted you to know this,
So that you never say that I did not return the love you showed to me.
I have alot I imagine I could have done with you,
But I am not confident enough to face my fears and responsibilities,
When the milk goes bad at last!
Inferiority Complex As A Kid And Adult!
I recall father, (now behold
at near ninety years old - maintains stronghold
on life, cuz born of sturdy mettle -
rumor claims bullion – ne'er did buckle nar fold
meaning bull + lion rolled
together and processed
April 9th, nineteen twenty nine),
fortune teller foretold
envious longevity, perhaps
just shy of eternity
older than anyone polled
occasionally got a bit
short tempered as patriarch
( ~6'2” ~ 200 lbs at prime)
over any five members of Harris household
with me, and timid, meek,
and fawning did scold,
and mother, (who passed away
after completing seventy plus orbits, all told,
sans November 13th, nineteen thirty five),
no matter both parents (more mom)
did abhor applying stronghold
tactics vis a vis corporal punishment,
though the late Harriet Harris, not so gold
din as totally carefree disciplinarian
confessed many moons ex post facto lost hold
of her appreciable tolerance,
than quickly crumbled like broken scaffold
after she spanked this monkey upon bony posterior
(an endearment, but NOT spanking
ever since mama did withhold
though kept pet name, which
ideally suited me as a little boy),
both her hands went limp and cold
apology immediately iterated,
cuz she felt mortified, and sold
reparation with self restraint
against further instances tubby brazenly bold
possibly contributed,
fostered, and inculcated mold
ding mine shy characteristic.
Me, this twangy nasal kid
(courtesy of split uvula we did
discover rather a speech pathologist
six grade minor congenital defect
i.e., submucous cleft palate), aforesaid
I experienced interminable
relentlessly psyche burning acrid
tormenting, teasing, and talking funny
this vulnerability compounded amid
my undersized and socially withdrawn demeanor
whereby every day akin getting scorched
by some "NON FAKE" ironclad grid!
Poems, prose and roses
Poets hate politicians
Poets prefer poking pens at people
P-words, power and paupers
Poets love writing about love
Tears, the sky and meadows
Poets are prostitutes
They are sex vendors
They expose their naked thoughts
To the world
They talk dirt without apology
And care less about anyone's emotions
Poets are short-tempered like a mini skirt
Like a G-string, there's a thin line between poetry and bigotry
Poets flaunt their innermost secrets for attention
Poets are prostitutes
Because poets are deep
They spread carnal diseases
Such as satire, criticism, rebellion, revolution, philosophy and the worst diseases of all:
Human love and hate
Poets write out of need,
Self-righteousness, lust and malice.
Poets lurk in the twilight corners of solitude
Under the street lights of obsession
Poets are a minority group
Protesting for equal rights
And recognition of poetry as a profession
And they claim poetic license
Poets sometimes render their sensual services
To ingrates who refuse to pay attention
Poets are often sneered upon in a hypocritical society
And a critical clique of readers
Poets get arrested at night
As this is the time when the goddess of creativity is moaning with faked pleasures of expression.
Poets **** you up for fun.
Writers are whores
Who lust for the misery of others
Their pens drip at the orgy of words
They write from different positions
They milk rhyme and reason dry
They suck life's dictations
Until the truth 'cums' out in torrents
Poets at times endure penetrations of mediocrity
And implants of other people's labour
For the sheer ecstasy of public approval
And literary glory
Poets can rob you of your money
By sweet endearing words
So you have been warned:
Beware of these brutal bards
They can easily elope with your spouse!
For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, sexual immortality , theft, false testimony, blasphemies.
These are what make a man 'unclean, ' but to eat with unwashed hands does not make him 'unclean'. Matthew 15:19-20
Clean person in the eyes of Yahweh God,
some people can be ignorant of the word of God
even though they have bibles in their houses, phones , laptops, and libraries.
Does it possible for water to remove evil thoughts
into some folks?
(Answer : no and no, )
How many times do some evil people bathe a year?
( Answer : many times ,)
Does it fair to praise "Evil" to avoid criticism?
( Answer : It is not fair,)
Wisdom of God is not same as of this earth
and so heavy to carry by some people
who got grace to have it.
It is so hard for some short - tempered people to carry
the wisdom of God no matter how very mature
and smart they can seem to be.
Someone can seem wise in the eyes
of some people while he "she" is
nothing in the face of Yahweh God.
It is very hard for some wise of this earth
to identify those who carrying the wisdom of God
as they are very differ in so many things.
someone can seem to be wise in the eyes of some folks, because of few public good actions,
while he "she" is one of the world conflict makers
" or witches , wizards, satanists" secretly.
It is easy to test the wisdom of this earth by eyes
but physical eyes can never characterise
the wisdom of God in someone,
reason why there are a lots of misunderstandings
in christianity in these todays.
some people contunued applying their phylosophies
for their personal gains
and reject the instructions
of the Spirit of Christ.
July 20/2023