Long Surly Poems

Long Surly Poems. Below are the most popular long Surly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Surly poems by poem length and keyword.


Manipulation

I often find
This word misused
The socially blind
Have abused

A favorite of mine
I will explain
I dedicate this rhyme
To it's name 

A malicious twiddle
Intentional distortion
To make another feel little
Or enhance one's portion

Words with a purpose
Though the speaker plays dumb
Sly as a serpent
Pressed under one's thumb

Strategic actions
Calculated crimes
Specific reactions
Often times

I'll slow down a bit
To be more clear
So the definition I spit
Will surly adhere

It's a deliberate act
To benefit the actor
Yet keeping tact
Doesn't appear a factor

Being mean
Revealing no fault
A crime so clean
One won't get caught

Make no mistake
It doesn't have to be bad
I'm writing for the sake
Of arguments had

Once understood
The definition
Look under the hood
Study the ignition

At this time
You will realize
It's not always assigned
For hungry eyes

It can be used to describe
Distorting an object
A whole other side
I won't neglect

I will, however
Leave it at that
Trusting you're clever
My words won't fall flat


The Dragon Riders Saga II

The Dragon Riders Saga II

The Dragon had returned to the clearing where he'd left his rider near neardeath
Hearing the strange tale brought mission purpose back and fire to his breath

A healer had found his friend somehow from the the universe of magic unknown
Now time was precious and running out their mission together again had grown

Just then to the Dragon came a voice upon the wind, was this sorcery?
A voice he had heard before long ago and was not mistakable or a forgery

His rider was the only one to ever communicate this way, prophecy had sworn
Something that was trained into them from the time they both were born

I'm the Princess of the Elves, you may know my name as I'm Oshshewelle
I have returned life to your rider he's now alive and will do well

The Dragon listened closely and his riders heart was now beating so strong
He thought can I trust this elf and what if I may be foolish and wrong

My rider and I are ready to fight again he thought back to the elven princess
To defeat this spell of evil darkness will be the end and our success

I gave your rider a talisman for the magic you'll need to win this fight
To Blood Mountain Lake you two must make this battle in flight this night

Take the Golden Armor and shield forged by magic wizardry in the art of steel
To protect you from the magic of the Mage's spells he will cast with zeal

To break the blackest enchantment it's guardian you two must defeat
Like you, a Dragon born of legend, there it's Taricrex you'll meet

Tis insanity that you speak of the Dragon screamed to the Princess elf 
Tis suicide you ask of us! This quest of yours is purest madness itself

Even if we have the Golden Armor, shield, and antiquities rune inscribed sword
You know prophecy, the only one to wield them must by birthright be a lord 

Not for may centuries has there been one with royal blood flowing in his veins
Tis magic trickery you speak with, I have long known there are none who remains

Your rider has all these and you were never told for good reason he has the blood too
He was not born a rider, he was hidden, I speak only the truth to you

This secret is entrusted to you for right now, with your rider it's not yet shared
For this he cannot yet know, and surly not until he is much more prepared
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Free Coffee

I stopped for a cup at the local all-nighter
I'm a regular there. I'm the "poetry writer".
You'll always find the occasional hack,
The delinquents, the addicts, that hang in the back.
A drifter, a grifter, disenchanted and surly
All nameless faces, except the waitress named Shirley
I throw her a line, she throws me a sign
Our usual "Hi, how are you?"
Then step to the bar, put a ten in her jar,
She's divorced and the mother of two.
She looks out of place with her ribbons and lace
She's polite, friendly and kind
But make no mistake, she bites like a snake
With a switchblade tongue, razor fine.
They're busy tonight and I need to write
She brings my black coffee to go
Says, "I'll give you this, you give me a kiss
And that will be all that you owe."
A kiss on the lips for ten dollar tips
That sounds fair enough to me
Besides, she's pretty, got big titties
And gives me my coffee for free.


                                Daniel Turner
Form: Rhyme

Child Day Born Monday

Monday's child is fair of face
 infact your ill mannered and lack that of grace
  you move at a crazy sort of pace
 you rush and brush with crude sense of haste
 but your passion admired not mild or tired. freshness you expel as soon as you smiled 
so white and gleam thy heavenly tiled
 you breath a bloom nature flower in the wild 
 Who are you to be questioned or blamed 
bright Brawn beauty  your lips are stained with shimmering gloss his heart paid the cost .

 If dust made you cry 
war on dirt would arrive   
angel he not..
 but your stare made him fly 
mind prepared to jump out  where men have died. 

The rest not speak mountain top peak 
words not heard of let's start with bleak 
which you are far from 
Thy blind eye overcome
 the place of state of only bright face 
that the world in your hand 
but florid your fate
 which is short of true
 as I'd open up to you not cussed of your friendly demeanor but because
 I know you my fellow dreamer

 i know you dream up the godliest ambition
 that a girl like you lives on the basis of intuition that the reason you live is to beseech ur mission
 a quest on your own
 but you will surly know to be lonely but not alone you cry.  i laugh. you eye. my saff of irony aghast at the alluring tears that you let fall but perfect
 you say you are not that at all i try to poke holes to prove you so but my heart can no longer take your illuminous glow  your  mainly a dreamer and a brain in your case you like to run wild you love the chase  in your warm heart the cold world is yours to brace 
Monday child you are not just fair of face

Addiction

Surly secrets present themselves to me
   as my gut screams Enough
   it won't settle down again
these thoughts of angst chase away the peace I thought I'd found
like a thief would steal any old man on the street
  Thought I had nestled into my spirit a sense of place 
  a sense of purpose yet the more I look
it seems the less I find
  these bloody doubts creep into my mind like morning glory in a hedge
and I do not go gentle into the twilight hours
but go like some scared rabbit heading for its burrow
  Yes I am flawed
  as my addiction takes over my sense of judgement
  and I am tied to the stake of these desires and compulsions
grounded in illusion.


Premium Member Sonata of a Natural Life

Walking on cool grass going into the majestic trees, 
I drifted towards a colorful sunset warmed by a gentle breeze. 

Oh the colors of life harken to my spirit as twilight descends. 
Gaia wraps her arms around me, hoping her embrace will never ends. 

My soul is calm as I drift from intolerant and inflamed ego. 
She whispers in my ear with Love, telling my soul to let go. 

This is not who you are, my beloved and beautiful love of life. 
You tarry in this life with unneeded pain that deeply cuts like a knife. 

Please my lovely, live life in your spirit with Joy and incredible Love. 
She took my hand to clear the cloudy skies and revealed the stars above. 

She gently sets my palm against the tree of life, to feel its amazing heartbeat. 
A cool breeze from her leaves fills the air with amazing fragrance so sweet. 

I gaze into her emerald, green eyes of mirth and warm delight. 
Suddenly a glowing green light emanates from this tree, lighting up the night. 

My eyes are transfixed on the glowing nature that surrounded her. 
Surly I opened my soul for the silent knowledge that brings my cure. 

Hand in hand we walk to the bank of a cold clear bubbling stream. 
She beckons me to wash my feet in the water lit by moon beams. 

The cold water caresses my feet and connects me to the living Earth. 
The wonder of this amazing life is the grandeur of a living Universe. 

All of nature surrounds us as they softly and gently sing the ancient song. 
We dance together in a loving embrace knowing, without words, that we belong.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Force That Placed Us Here Cannot Be Trusted

At dinner, Zach asks
about our nation's history, wars.
I say We're taking on everyone, one at a time.

First Britain, then Britain again: "He was the surly English pluck, and
      there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be."
Next Mexico: "Death is indifferent to what hide he tans; life crushes men
      like flies."
The War Between the States: "Well done, Mr. Cromartie. Time now
      for rest."

Most of Latin America: "Not only humans longed for liberation. All
      ecology groaned for it too. The revolution is also one of lakes,
      rivers, trees, animals."
Then Southeast Asia: "The slight bump the mortars make as they kiss
      the tube goodbye. Then the furious rain, a fist driving home the
      message: Boy, you don't belong here."
Now the Middle East: "A land to be admired like all lands. Harsh
      mountains and deserts, indigenous plants and people, adapted
      ungulates, carnivorous mammals."

Can't forget the Krauts & Nips: "Then I heard the bomber call me in:
      Little Friend, Little Friend, I got two engines on fire. Can you see
      me, Little Friend?"
Nor the Commies: "You mixed up farewell to an epoch with the
      beginning of a new one. I put this book here for you, who once
      lived, so that you should visit us no more."
The original indigenous people say: "In time wexll become prosperous,
      or else we'll become martyrs. The force that placed us here cannot
      be trusted."
Form: Verse

Premium Member Sunset Mooning

SUNSET MOONING…

Descending, the ever full Sun
Reflected its golden fulfillment
While a waxing moon challenged
The assured fulfillment of its time:-
Image this if you can:
Waxing moon—challenging the always
Full sun—rising and setting each day;

What a powerful allegorical message
Paved out of this journey home
To chat and relax on the day’s challenges
Of wishful hope and the stability of faith:-

Canvassing it all with the reality of hope
And faith—let us realize that hope is
What is to come—faith being of what is:
Here is canvassed the assured fulfillment
Of the setting sun and the risen moon—
In a waxing of what is to surly come:-

In the nature of the trying times, let us not 
Rush unprepared but like a full moon, let us
Reflect the rising and setting of the sun
Reflecting the fullness of hope and faith
Guiding us to the destined fulfillment
Of whose and who we are in today’s day:-
Form: Prose

Premium Member It's a Great Job, But---

I can't get that job; I don't have Excel
   They'll never hire me; I don't type very well
I've got three years experience; they're asking for four
   They're only offering 50k; I need two thousand more

It's a great job, but it's too far away
   I'd like to take it, but I won't ride the subway
It looks like a perfect fit, except for the benefits
   I'd apply right now, but the last person quit 

They'll reject me for sure; I once got a C in Math
   I'm not quite their style; I read Sylvia Plath 
The job is just fine, but I'll have to get up too early
   I loved the position, but the CEO's known to be surly

The issue, my friend, isn't that you're not good
   The problem here is strictly your mood
I know you have a PhD., but I'll risk being rude --
   It's your B.A. that's killling you, your Bad Attitude
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Seventy-three seconds

One thought, igniting the dream,
Seven bold souls, steady as they seem.

Ten missions past, Challenger soared,
Twenty-five flights, the program roared.

Tick-tick.
A countdown clear.
The world leans close.
The clock draws near.

Thirty-six degrees—a frozen doubt.
A seal strained tight; the gas leaks out.

Ignition. Roar. Climb. Silence screams.
A nation watches shattered dreams.

Seventy-three seconds, sky turned to flame,
History echoes their hallowed names.

At 5:00 PM, the voice of command,
A president speaks to a grieving land:
“The crew of the Challenger honored us all.
They slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God.”

32 months, grounded hope rebuilt.
A frozen morning, a lasting guilt.

Tick-tick.
The seconds mourn.
We remember still
That frozen dawn.

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