Long Snarl Poems
Long Snarl Poems. Below are the most popular long Snarl by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Snarl poems by poem length and keyword.
We fairies of frailty dream in the daintily dazed daytime,
We fairies of frailty surely shalln’t awaken to the morning shine,
Alight with the grace that surely shalln’t be mine.
Sleep to surmise a break to the eventide
To but breathe mine worries into the shallow moonlight
Say this can’t last forever when your stomach harrumphs like the rolling thunder
“So is life, and life is so”
We seem to spake the stars with a snarl,
And await a timely death beneath the growing snow.
“So is life, and life is so”
So one shall recover, to discover in the morrow,
The morning glow.
21//1//2026
Some other people’s dogs bite, snarl and snap like turtles on speed.
Our young puppy Beau dances, twirls, and bites his tail as if he’s on weed.
The other dog, Buddy, is a gentle giant, over a hundred pounds of love.
He was sent to us via a dumping, from angels who live well above.
It is no accident that God and Dog have the same three letters.
Beau, our deranged puppy is one of those romantic go-getters.
Being a retriever, he fetches everything – leaves, sticks, or a ball.
We are such dog people, we have four dog beds lying in our hall.
They might want to drink water, so we have six gray water bowls.
Buddy sits calmly while Beau digs enormous muddy burying holes.
They have personalities that keep us excited, they fill us with joy.
They want to eat our slippers and remotes, ignoring every dog toy.
MINUSCULE PSYCHOLOGISTS
those bars, those bars…
they screech and scream
and scare us little girls
the spots, the stripes...
of leopards and tigers
confined with jangling keys
and legs of chairs…
the circus feature
of our prayers
we hear, we hear…
the whispers of grown men
who snarl and sneer
closed in, closed in…
with legal pad, we query
the escapee’s sin
the whorl, the world...
minuscule psychologists
open up pandora’s box
shoulder to shoulder…
the dynamic duo ink blot
a list of truth and lies
empirical lessons...
not forgotten but tweaked
in the dendrites of my mind
those bars, those bars…
separate the pandemic cells
held in subconscious time
4/15/2018
A variation on a theme by Dr. Seuss...
There once was a Grinch who was bad to the bone,
Which was why he always spent Christmas alone,
But one year the Grinch said, "Enough is enough!"
And decided to steal everyone's Christmas stuff.
In the village below, in the center of town,
Stood a great Christmas tree with gifts all around.
There were gaily wrapped presents, some large and some small,
Filled with treats and surprises for one and for all.
The Grinch plotted, connived, he schemed, and he hatched.
"Come Christmas morning," he vowed, "all that loot will be snatched."
Then he rushed back inside to flesh out his plan
To disguise himself as that Santa Claus man.
He measured, and cut, and stitched stitches galore,
When he suddenly heard, just outside his front door,
Something that set both his Grinch ears to ringing.
The sound was quite audibly somebody singing.
He opened his door just a crack so to peek,
And what he beheld made the Grinch squeak out "Eek!"
In front of his cave was a sight quite bewilderin'
A small group of seven or eight village childeren.
Then a curly-haired toddler toddled forward an inch
And cooed, rather cutely, "Mewwy Cwissmas, Mistuh Gwinch!"
The snarl that he tried for turned into a grin,
And 'stead of biting their heads off, he invited them in.
He dashed to his fireplace, tossed on a Yule log,
Then served gingerGrinch cookies and sweet green eggnog.
They ate, drank, and sang for an hour or more
Then announced they must leave and bounced out the front door.
As he watched them depart, to his utter surprise,
The Grinch felt his heart trying to double in size.
He quivered, he quaked, his knees started to shake.
"This unGrinchlike behavior has been a mistake!"
Then he slammed shut the door and proclaimed with a sneer,
"Well, you thwarted me this time, but just wait 'til next year!"
This tale has a moral, quite simple yet bold:
Some people can't change, if the sad truth be told.
The Grinch, of his species, was simply a bad 'un,
He couldn't change his spots, poor thing, even if he had 'em.
My favorite orange top with the raised flowers in white
Made me prance into church, feeling beautiful and right
I sashayed down the aisle, feeling all that for sure that day
Until a young child said “You’re having a baby! Mrs. Kay.”’
At fifty-five years young, I did not think I could feel any worse.
That orange top went into the give-away-pile with my ugly black purse.
Unless clothing gives me joy, it is not going to be worn by me.
Style creates my mood, always has, don’t you see?
You’re not wearing that! My husband said to my Bohemian wrap.
I sure as hell am, I replied. “Why don’t you go take a nap?”
He cannot ruin my pretty clothes with silly comments like this.
I gave him a snarl, the bad finger and a sweet sounding hiss.
I did wear the wrap, and my girlfriends all gathered around.
You look so wonderful today, they murmured with all kinds of sound.
I knew then that it was not as gorgeous as I had hoped it would be.
So it went into the give-away-pile, while I tried on other clothes that fit me.
Patches of choco brown and black wrap my fur
with long hotdog body, I roll in loops,
“ Hershey” is what they fondly name me
flopping ears as mice and ants rush for a kill…
and with the kids, nose snuggles for tickle feast
while Mom runs amuck with suds on her hair;
these bug me, bathing and trimming of nails.
When holidays come, it’s fashion show time
like a German spy, I nibble the costumes
feigning sleep as teeth snarl those threads!
Loyal and cute, my almond eyes wink to charm…
but bark I do when strangers knock , and Hannah,
our neighbor trembles as I “arf” at her mere scent.
I love to sneak out the gate to play and goof off;
one day, a runaway thrill off the street did harm…
a rogue snatched me , bugged my neck
hearing faint shouts, “ Hershey, come back!”
Oh,I miss the awful hair washes, patter of kids’ feet,
warm cuddles, and dog gone evening tricks.
For eight years, I reigned as a Weenie princess…
Now, I look at the stars and touch my family’s faces.
-----------
*it’s been 3 years since our dachshund, Hershey,
got lost. My nephews and I miss her!
rob carmack's Dachshunds Contest
They measure my pain on a scale of their own,
And call it a performance when I bleed alone.
They say it’s a phase, that I’m built of glass,
Waiting for the next dark storm to pass.
"All’s well that ends well," they casually state,
While leaving me locked in a brand-new fate.
?Who could ever leave me? I echo the cry,
But who could stay when they look in my eye?
They claim that they see right through the facade,
Yet label my grief as erratic and flawed.
They called it mental—the cages I bear—
Then wonder why silence is all that I share.
?I carry the embers of souls that have walked,
While they count the seconds whenever I've talked.
They twist every truth till I’m held for the crime,
Absent for my worst, but absent in time.
They wouldn't last an hour where I spent my youth,
In the asylum of expectations dressed up as truth.
?I want to snarl, to show them the scar,
To prove that their words left me marked from afar.
What if it was about me? What if they knew?
What if the damage was meant to break through?
They tell me I’m foolish, that nobody’s made
To anchor a heart that is constantly frayed.
?I try to reach back to the person I was,
Before every exit came with a cause.
I don't want a shadow, a ghost, or a maybe—
I just want a world that is certain to save me.
Until then I sit in the hell they built,
Wearing their judgment, but refusing the guilt.
Yes, my good friend, I am a pirate, a rogue, a lone wolf
Irritated, I howl, snarl, and I yell.
Fortunately very few know this about me
To you I am sincere, unassuming, and sweet
Oh, yes, a darling one
Until I feel duped, double-crossed, or hurt
That is when the real me comes out with guns blazing, blades swinging
Lasers shoot out of my eyes
I am in destroy mode.
My fangs and my claws work overtime
To slice you to ribbons.
If you are lucky, I might make you walk the plank instead.
Feeling a bit of tiny satisfaction
When I see the hungry crocodile floating past
Ha Ha
Howling in happiness when his jaws slam shut,
Taking you away forever
No, you do not want to cross me.
I am a scoundrel.
They dressed in the garment of back in the day
Scampered up our walk with a happy hey hey
Are those chipmunks? My husband asked a bit askance.
They surely are, I replied, doing a happiness dance!
What are they doing here? Is he wearing a vest?
I opened the door and said, “Welcome my guests!”
They came in holding their own spoon and a fork.
She introduced to both of us her new husband Mork.
What happened to Ed? I asked, afraid of what she might say.
He was run over by a dump truck a few months ago, Wednesday.
Did they not see him? Did they not slow down? I asked with a snarl.
“It’s okay, we’re in love,” said her new husband Mork McGarl.
We gave grace and then the levity and excitement rapidly began.
These chipmunks ate all our walnut sandwiches out of the pan.
Leave some for the rest of us! Screeched my husband, the man.
We were all relieved when they left in their old broken-down van.
With my eyes ringed in black like a funny mask,
I’m a very clever and cute little critter.
You’ll know when I’m angry. I snarl or I hiss,
but for you, I’ll only purr or chitter.
We should play a game of hide and seek.
In the hollow of a tree it’s possible I’d be,
or in the crevice of a rock or even
in your own attic you very well could find me.
My keen vision and dexterity might amaze you.
Problem-solving skills make me smarter than a cat!
Do you want a snack? I will get myself into
a machine filled with candy; wouldn’t you like that?
I can get through metal, locking lids and latches
Watch me work my magic with my super teeth and paws.
I can visit you, and if a fireplace you have,
I’ll come down your chimney just like Santa Claus.
Like the squirrels, I can climb down a tree head-first.
I also swim. Would you like to join me at a lake?
I’ll help you raid some trash cans if you’re down for that.
Let’s compete to see how many things that we can break.
If you love to eat, we can have great fun.
I adore honey, nuts, eggs, fish and watermelon.
I’m not picky, but if there’s no food at your house,
just know I can get us some; I’m a great food felon!
In some states, you’re allowed to keep me as a pet.
I remember kindness, so I would stick by you
if you’re good to me. Remember, I can shape-shift,
so a human sweet and funny, I can be that too.