Long Spoiled Poems
Long Spoiled Poems. Below are the most popular long Spoiled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spoiled poems by poem length and keyword.
Perfectly observant,
We share the same exact struggle.
Perfectly normal,
A conversation with all but one subject.
Eyes that refer to the category
Of deep need.
Apologies do no justice.
Unpeeled oranges that sit in wait.
Guilty at first glance, suppressing true desire without a word.
Wanting to unravel- peel away at things kept from view.
Mistaking ears for a heart.
Just what are we observant of,
Have we become profound.
A perception seen but not heard
Are we that oblivious.
Selective, inconsistent.
Following our hearts through unspoken lips.
Soiled in the thought of need.
Was I ever ready to speak,
Needing, urging.-
What is it that you are trying to say,
I feel that this is us.
The priority of a first thought,
Overcoming all else.
Every day, a basket of oranges
In arms reach- woven together
In deep thought.
Beauty is only skin deep.
Spoiled by the nectar of lips
My new forest and park neighbors,
mostly birds
squirrels
and strangely curious
and ravenous rabbits,
Have become accustomed to,
spoiled by,
fragrant green sanctuary
ancient fertile memories.
But, today
our neighborly horse farm
must be cleaning house.
This smells of too rich compost
upstaging even more gracious green.
This downgrade
calls to me
recalling former toxic smells,
fossil fuel exhausting,
were sooo... much more degenerative.
Horsey compost
lies between love's light life fragrance
and dark skinned death
of odorous Earth.
Yet, comparing distances
between green forest
and horse fragrance
and transported stinky fractures
through sacred climates ecological
resonant and resilient airs
and gusts
and breezes,
Comparative distances
continuously,
yet consecutively, change
what one might argue
is a contrasting wealth of difference,
+1, to -1, with midway
horse-powered zero neutral
Feels more like two-thirds healthy fragrance
and only one third toxic
Feels closer to three-fourths salient
to one-fourth punitive memory
from here
and now perspective,
Feels closer to seven-eighths
to one-eighth formerly deranged
of a revolutionary
resonantly regenerative
fractalling
resiliently redundant
multicultural sensory/spiritual
nurturing
re-communicating natural octave
of Golden Ratio/Rule comparison,
At last
resiliently resonant.
Last Halloween was scary
with evil brewing strong
when Peggy planned a party
and things went off all wrong
In tatty robe, her hair awry
she slaved all day with care
her neighborhood to satisfy
with an elegant affair
Fine treats she baked and broiled
and decorated in detail
until her appetite was spoiled
and strength had almost failed
The house she'd scrubbed and polished
to a frighteningly bright sheen
every speck of dust demolished
she worked like a machine!
But, oh- the guests arrived too early
before she was quite dressed
and between her looks, and manner surly
were somewhat less than impressed
And to make things even worse
they quipped in her living room
their clever lines, so well-rehearsed
“Oh Peg, we LOVE your costume!”
They waited half a second, while
still within earshot
and sniped with vicious smiles
about all her house was not
How her home was far too small
to host this gathering
with depressing rooms and narrow hall
too shabby for anything!
The kids came in rolled their eyes
at tacky Halloween kitsch
and consoled themselves by cracking-wise
about it all with Mitch
Now Mitch was Peggy's husband
and should've known her mind
but he said things offhand
that came off as unkind
Then Nan came in with Merrilee
a chef of snobby taste
who (nose turned up), quite warily
declared the food “a waste”
Then as the midnight beckoned
Peg raged against the room
(a “woman scorned”, I reckon...)
the party met their doom!
___
A Halloween poem to make up for my deceptively titled 'The Living Dead' poem... which has nothing to do with the holiday!
Scotland voted with a nationalist head,
England voted to keep the torries ahead,
3 Million people voted UKIP instead,
And I ask myself why?
Some voted tactically,
Whilst others voted practically,
Some followed history,
And some even spoiled the sheet!
Put your X in the box send your candidate to the fore,
They'll be the next to be Bribed by the capitalist horde,
Who'll whisper sweet lies every time he draws breath,
And you will wonder how you were fooled until the day of your death!
5 more years of austerity some folks cheered,
5 more years of Torry rule some folks jeered,
And they kick up a fuss, they boo they hiss,
Now everyone's an expert and that truly boils my piss,
The system is broken but what is the cure,
Its not austerity or more pointless wars,
We must learn to love our fellow man,
Put the past behind us draw a line in the sand.
If I could live in a perfect world
where nothing would be strange
and nothing would be spoiled,
Could that be easy to arrange?
If my house were built upside down
and I entered from the roof,
I would be a perfectly happy clown
but you would think I'm a goof.
The eye of perfection to me
may not be what you condone,
but I would find happiness
if ice cream came in a larger cone.
I think it would be 'toadly' riveting
if frogs hunted us for our legs
and humans would start ribbitting
when in our coffee we found dregs.
My perfect world would be mellow
if I painted it with my brush
I could make the oceans yellow
and on me all guys would have a crush.
Perfection! It's like beauty to the eye
of anyone who wants to behold.
All you need to do to give it a try
is allow your imagination to be bold.
2/12/16
Addicted to your every kiss
When you're at work its you I miss
Can't stop thinking about your arms around me
Try everyday to get you see
Just how amazing I think you truly are
A day on the town or shooting pool at the bar
To me it never matters what we do
I always have the best time when I'm with you
And I know you don't think you spoil me
But spoiled is exactly what I've turned out to be
It's in all the little things you do
Though it doesn't seem like much to you
In my life you've become a big part
I guess what I'm trying to say is...baby you have my heart
Though falling in love with you
Wasn't something I had planned to do
Every little thing you do makes me melt
You make me feel things I've never felt
And with us everything is still so new
But still I love who I am when I'm with you
I hope what we have last forever
There is no switch or lever
Every day with you is just as amazing as the day before
And it always leaves me wanting more
No amount of time is ever enough
And no amount of money could buy enough stuff
To ever compare to what I have with you
I'm in love with every little thing you do!!!
Five-year-old Roozie rushed to Mom :
- ‘Are you going to Book Fair ?’
Mom nodded ‘ Yes, but you are not to go.
Roozie - ‘ This isn’t fair.
You don’t care
for me ! ‘
Mom - ‘So far I know,
you don’t like to study at all.
For you I will buy bat ball.
Last year I bought you nice picture book,
Few pages you took
out and pasted on wall.
Book was spoiled, wall looked dirty’.
Roozie- ‘ I’m hale and hearty.
Why had you bought books without my consent ?
It was your fault. I’m just innocent.’
Mom- ‘On page of the book,
you have put remarks of your own.
Few pages were torn.
Not good.'
Roozie - ‘ Don’t be rude.
Rhymes were incomplete.
So I had to write some sentences to match it.
It was written that ,
pigs had no hats.
They must be sad.
I wish to feel them glad.
I was considerate to claim
hats for them.
I added extra line
to make all fine.’
Mom - ‘Dusty fair ground ! You have allergy to dust.’
Roozie- ‘So what? Buy mask just.’
Dust proof Masks were available , rather
You didn’t bother
as price didn’t suit you.
That’s my view .
But I know, Honey !
You had enough money.
Mom- Okay. Which type of book do you need ?
I’ll buy indeed.
Fairy tales, fun stories, stories of ghost ?
Which type do you like most ?’
Roozie- ‘I am least interested in books, Dear !
I’m making it clear.
My only urge
to have Extra large
fluffy cotton candy sold
( as I have already told )
only in Book Fair !
Please do care.’
Lower you say? No way!!!!!!
Sewer rats fare better
Politicians are the bottom
Of this poetic society
Yet for all their failings
We are protected
We are spoiled
Laziness is our new Idol
Oh let us sit on our chairs
Ranting poetic verse
Let us not lift a finger
Contributing to society, this must surely be a sin
Besides, if we endeavor to help?
Will they not label us politicians?
NO NO NO not that
Let me complain!!!!!!!!
He who complains is KING
Power corrupts!!!
This is true
The fools who don’t vote
Keep them there like glue
You too can be a politician
If you really care
To get off your azz
Go change the world, I dare you
Oh wait you shall see
Not so easy in that high moral chair
With all your critics climbing to demolish
Re-election is a love affair
Brave men and woman have died
So that you can have freedoms and the vote
Be ashamed if you are a critter on the couch
Of those fine men who died for your right
To do nothing
Yelping like dogs and complain, sure feels good
Politicians are people just like you, yuck!!!!!
Good and bad there is no doubt
When good men fail to speak out
Bad ones fill their shoes
So I say this to all
Stop your laziness……fools
For surely, the fool is the one
Who selects the king he does not want
Unless of course
He was busy with a nap and missed it all
If you are not a politician
Who are you?
I dare ask?
Notes: This sure is not meant to defend politicians, this is meant as a humorous write to show that not all things are so black and white. I certainly do no like the current state of affairs, but I do know this, not participating, not contributing, not helping to make things better, not getting involved, are not the answers. People died for our freedoms, and we have become to lazy to stand up for them. If you don’t like who is in Office, then by all means let’s make it you who is in Office. Many good politicians are saddened that when they get there, they have no support. Here is a happy thought, when you wake up each day ask yourself, “what can I do today, to make this world a better place” and it can be the smallest of details, all great things start with a seed!
Happy Days to all you Soupers!
The life of a manic depressant,
swimming in anxiety and less valued than a peasant.
You don't dream you nightmare,
oh yeah, you dream of an alternative timeline,
where you are happy and all turned out fine.
Missed opportunities were not missed,
you're with that dream girl you never kissed,
your friends are loyal,
and job prospects were never spoiled.
There's a devine light in your life shining bright,
it's all a delight and everything turned out alright.
As you dream this dream the night turns to morning light,
and slowly from your subconscious state you awaken,
and the joyous elements of your dream disintegrate.
The job is lost and that dream girl turns into a ghost,
you're collecting benefit while she stands with her real bloke,
you realise that having nothing is no joke,
the nightmare starts not in your sleep but when you've awoke.
You're now awake but your eyes don't open,
you lay in bed and reflect on that dream,
that ended so mean
after showing you the things you wish your life had seen.
You reluctantly realise that you are a reject, retarded at best,
and how that dream ended is how the day has started,
self hate fills as you lay broken hearted.
You don't open your eyes,
a decision you choose because the back of your eyelids offer better views.
You should feel rested but you're not,
it's anxiety, dread and depressed instead,
the day begins with you worn out and tested,
and you haven't even got dressed yet.
POTD
11/6/2018
*prose was six lines when posted.
STOLE HER HEART TOO
A golden feather, shaped like a heart - the point like a prima donna’s ballet toes. Spoiled feather fell from forever into mortal hands. The giant screamed, stomped at his loss. The whirligig like the lamellae of a music box. Falling from seventh heaven alongside the corkscrew tree. Jack, deliriously descending, on his way to visit his procured harp, plucked from the giant’s brother. The fair lass in silver slippers hugs the feather, agrees to kiss Jack’s stupid lips.
8/31/2019
Writing Challenge 4, August 2019 - Six Lines
Sponsor, Dear Heart- Wiishkobi Ode