Long Spouted Poems
Long Spouted Poems. Below are the most popular long Spouted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spouted poems by poem length and keyword.
On the offshore of Atlantic ocean, - On the offshore of Atlantic ocean,
Walking on the bridge of hurricane,Intensifying force of wind hit my soul.
Empty streets with no one around,Paving away the roads of silly love.
Turning skies into grey,
We both freaking near the bay,
Freezing rain drizzled away,
Snow rain sizzled with a hope of ray!
Ohhhh my god,It's damn awesome!
Abundance of Lush green meadows was the season's feather.
Into the red,yellow,purple,brown,The transition of leaves,Echoed the sense of melancholic reflection.
Showering and Turning my dark days into bright, Its time to bloom with an early sunrise.
Bizarre cloud,dusty storm,
Love spouted between the two egoed rabbits.
Bursting the introvert feelings,cherishing the moments together at the street's of luxe ville.
Left an Autumn of love in our heart!
Light sun curvature reflecting against my eyes,
Awned wheatgrass,cold wind wrapping us,moving into the world of fantasy.
Beating down, The rhythm and blues, shaking the jazz with a sip of jigger!
Mild night temperature with deep brown coffee,
Amorously advancing towards romance,
Nature taking the baby steps,dissolving in the essence of season,Gladly applauding Your arrival ,warmly welcoming an Autumn!
It’s Howdy Doody Time!
It’s Howdy Doody Time!
If you know this rhyme so nifty,
Your childhood was probably in a fifty.
Remember the advertisers promoting color TV?
This was when we all had black and white, you and me.
Howdy had forty-eight freckles representing each state of the USA.
Watching him on the tube was what most of us did every day.
Remember Buffalo Bob, Howdy’s Sidekick?
He amused all of us children, he was honest, not slick.
We bought Wonder bread, because they spouted that it was good muster.
Most of us wanted the ballots they printed, to vote for Phineas T. Bluster.
Chief Thunderthud and Chief Featherman kept us honest, us kids.
J. Cornelius Cobb, the shopkeeper kept clowns on the skids.
If you remember anything, this one chant should be incredibly clear.
Let's give a rousing cheer, because Howdy Doody is here!
High strung
Passionate
Perfectionist freak
Manic
Compulsive
Meticulous
Intense
High maintenance
HIGH MAINTENANCE
MONICA
Yes….I see a lot Monica in me. “You think I’m high maintenance???? Tell me how. Make a list and we will go over it POINT by POINT!” She spouted this out while trying to convince Phoebe otherwise. Well, I’m high maintenance because I feel, extremely!! Perfectionist!!! (Melancholy/Sanguine with a touch of crazy!) When God created me….He placed emotional sensors in every single cell of my body, it seems….INTENSE! Well, yes, it CAN be hard to handle….But listen, LISTEN to what Chandler says to Monica that makes him like the most amazing guy on Friends. “Yes, you ARE high maintenance, but that’s ok because….I like maintaining you!” You wouldn't exactly consider that some sentence that is dripping with passion and romance, but wow! That would make me FLY! :)
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Love is blind
To all the perils
That lie dormant in the mind
Beyond the limits of transgression.
A mortal maiden golden-haired
Priestess of Athena, daughter of the gods
By Poseidon with persuasive honeyed words was wooed
She melted in their alluring warmth and charm.
With guile concealed and flattery he urged her on
Her defences crumbled; the drawbridge lowered
To reveal the gateway to her heart
Forgotten were the vows of celibacy.
Beneath his touch her senses reeled
Her eyelids closed in expectation
He took his chance with urgent need and greed
Her virgin spoils were taken.
As trembling bodies rode the waves of love and lust
Tremors shook the earth, the ocean heaved; the wind enraged
Swept o’er the land and lightning flashed across the sky.
Such was the wrath of gods defied and disobeyed
Terrible and eternal punishment they bestowed.
The mortal maiden golden-haired
A repulsive hideous monster she became
Her fair unblemished skin gave way to loathsome green
Her bloodshot eyes in terror gazed, their previous lustre gone
Each lock of hair a writhing snake that hissed and spouted venom.
Condemned beyond mercy she fled to distant land
Where cursed and shunned she lived in great despair
Turning into stone whosoever fell beneath her vengeful gaze.
At last Perseus took her life. Aided by Athena’s mirrored shield
His scythe tore into flesh and bone; her severed head was lifted high.
Medusa’s misery and shame came to an end
Death – the final liberating act.
4/9/17
Vultures circled overhead then swooped in
Towards the remains of a human
Nearby an outcrop of rocks that protruded
Another morning filled with fog
A frog sat upon a log
Of which he was fond
Inside a pond full of fronds
Within a bog
Located way beyond
A horse named Cork participated in all sorts of sports
Involving some kind of course
Holding its own head up high, while it continued forth
Even when the winds blew with force
From the south, east, west or north
Close and far from any wharf
They won so often that there owner bought a porsche
And new home with a beautiful porch
A cat that was a black
Attacked a rat
Then ate it as a snack
Rather fast
In a patch of grass
Before it groomed and scratched
Then sat in the back of a shack
Nearby a hat rack and took a nap
At last
Out of town
Across a field that was recently plowed
A brown cow sat down
On the ground
Below a sky with little clouds
After it had some chow
Before, during and after it haled
A person had a few too many pale ales
Then went off the rails
By pulling off a chick's ponytail
And getting caught with a scale
Next day woke up in jail
With no bail
And realized they had failed
In their own coffin another nail
Eventually was released and got home to bills in the mail
And nothing but bread that was stale
So they inhaled
And focused on how to prevail
Throughout the trail
Before seeing boats in the distance with sails
Soon after flew by a flock of quail
And then far away towards the horizon, water spouted from a whale
By: Dalton Ogletree
Gonifs and gossips revisited
since originally being crafted
approximately half dozen
dirty deeds done dirt cheap years ago...
Abound and lurk
within every nook and cranny
analogous to some annoying pest
harmless though one reside here,
when off his meds goes berserk
here at Highland Manor Apartments.
They snatch and snitch packages -
meant for other than themselves -
think Grinch who stole Christmas
plus snoop, i.e. eavesdrop
big Dumbo ears as listening devices
(batteries not required)
or serve as rumor mongers
to don self importance
and trumpet "FAKE NEWS."
We (yours truly and his misses)
dwelled at aforementioned residence
July first 2025 will be eight years,
and no sooner did both of us set foot
on premises than hearsay
immediately promulgated
(metaphorically swirled about our heads),
and passed like greased lightning
thru the robust grapevine
purportedly wife of mine
brought in live snakes.
Oddly and interestingly enough though,
I never actually never heard nor saw
a fellow resident
talk (or whisper in hushed tones)
about me outright.
Rather than badmouth other feisty folks,
which leaves unpleasant virtual
aftertaste described as phooey zook,
thus comeuppance to reprobate recipients
I activate viz cluck
king silly reasonable rhyme,
(so keeps head up
for urbane adverse city slicker
you better watch out
(...better not shout...) just duck
and run for cover cuz poet took
effluvia enroute spouted by word huck
stir, he avoids naming
(chatterboxes whose lives
so devoid of meaning,
they figuratively kickstart tittle-tattle),
who vocally ramp up
some juicy tidbit with any luck
taking page from former president playbook
letting their lips uncontrollably run a-muck
totally oblivious to credibility factor being a schmuck
buzzfeed initial kernel of truth and truck
outrageous zingers suitable for National Enquirer,
tragicomical, cuz mistruths
courtesy tenants exhibit chutzpah to pluck
farfetched outright lies and innuendos
rolling of tongues of then occupants such as:
"Bible Thumper/Holy Roller,"
"Bingo/ Phat Cathy,""Crooked Old Man,"
"Curvy Girl/Thunder Thighs," "Frumpty Dumpty
"Mush/Smash Mouth, "Snaggletooth,"
"The Bodyguard," "The Fossil," "The Schvartze,"
"Winkle," and last but not leased "Zha Zha”.
Give me fruit flies, mice
and/or roaches any day,
or give me death!
Than lady liberty
Than the lamp of democracy
Land of the free
Land of the brave
Land of so many freedom fighters
Letting us be masterful poets and fanciful writers
When things don’t go your way
There is still Free Press to sway
Rights over dress, we can always redress
So many flaws
Filled with humans we are after all
She is the descendant of Marianne
A republic in a new land
The left laments, lighting inflaments
The right closes their eyes to just causes
Of the forgotten on the wayside of strife
The middle road and the middle path
The many, stoically building the abundant bridges
Towards our great destiny lying ahead
Challenges exist, evil cyanide persists
The people together shall be of all colors
United under the strength of the American umbrella
Chavez spouted his propaganda
To his followers with no bananas’
Kept them poor
Said communism will make them more!
Times Are More
By Franklin Price
10/7/2016
We met at a great celebration,
Of a graduation, from a Texas High School.
Although he was dressed as a farmer,
I knew he was far from a fool.
He was sitting and watching the people,
Was leaning against an old tree.
As I walked past he caught my attention,
And here's what he said to me:
“Times are more like they are right now
Than they ever have been before”,
Quoted this wise old gentleman;
So apparent, that he knew the score.
He grinned at the end of the statement,
Of these meaningless words that he said.
To indicate it was humor he spouted,
In my confusion, I was more than just glad.
Has been many years since that meeting.
Still remember those words that I quote.
Were they humorous gibberish I heard then,
Or were they great wise words of note?
For the times in which we are living,
Are not the same as they have been before.
Maybe that old man I met then,
In humor, quoted what was in store.
We big, tough, well-thinking male bearberries blew and we snarled and we spouted and we blew.
But those danged dandelions obstinately kept their tops on, no matter how much we did fuss.
Come on fellas, I said to my fellow bearberries. Here is just what we’ll do…
“I’m not taking them!” I screamed at B.B.2, our leader, a passive little cuss.
I was talking about those damned tiger lilies, our groupies.
I am so sorry Tiger Lilies, he told them. It’s just us bear berries today. He shot an apologetic look to T.L. 1 and T.L. 402.
I am sick and tired of my whole life being video- recorded by those selfie-taking nut-buckets, I told him, indignant, and with an angry face.
They will clean your house, wash your floors, pay your bills, wax your car, and do your laundry, said B.B. 2.
I don’t care if my house implodes on its dirtiness, I retorted. Just keep them in their place.
I was talking about those damned tiger lilies, our groupies.
Tiger Lily 58 sneaked back into the Bearberry Lodge, where Tiger Lilies are never supposed to be.
We did not see her at first as she used her invisibility tablet to reach us; I felt her heat on the back of my neck, before I saw her.
She began to give me a really nice, warm, massage and sweet backrub which was the best I had had times three.
Wow! What is that? I asked myself, as I began getting tingly and happy all over, and down under.
I guess I was talking about these wonderful tiger lilies, our allies.
My dad had told me a long time ago that the best pairings in the meadow was always a BB and a T.L.
Who are you? I whispered to Tiger Q. Lily 58. I am your soul mate, she responded, can you please meet me at 2?
Where? I wondered, and she immediately conveyed that she would be at northern rise of Bunny P. Hill.
I will be there with my matching rings, I told her. Are you ready? Yes, she agreed. No one else will do.
I am now hitched to a wonderful tiger lily, and all my mean thoughts
toward T.L.'s seem pretty damned silly.
(And I don’t care whether or not the dandelions ever lose their
tops. They are of no use to me now.)
Dated: May 12,2018
“It wasn’t me who voted them in.” He bleated, quite moronic.
“And all the lies we’re being told, I think I need a colonic.”
He looked around and gathered his thoughts, “I need to pen a missive,
To my local member, here in town, and it needs to be derisive.”
His needs lined up and in a row he smoothed the sheet for writing.
Nib to page, ink to flow, the Minister’s in for a smiting.
And as the words began to roll with sweet and honeyed menace,
The smile in his eyes began to show, he started, “My name’s Dennis.”
He listed off the promises made with a corresponding date
And coupled them with grievances to even out the slate.
He moaned and groaned and spouted steam. He really was quite grumpy.
And when he read it back again, he found his syntax lumpy.
Scrunch it up and start again, it surely must be proper.
With guilt to place and thoughts to sway, he breached a mental stopper.
And now, when Dennis wrote some more his thoughts and words were crystal.
Seven pages, neatly scrawled. What a delightful epistle.