Long Tarring Poems
Long Tarring Poems. Below are the most popular long Tarring by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tarring poems by poem length and keyword.
Messianic Zeal Of This Good Humored Punster...
Without making a
twit tarring buffoon, sans unshackle
irrepressible bone a fide
funny reaction, or appearing
the foolish spectacle
of myself, trying to tackle
a mal hip apropos
prism mirth wells up
inducing me to cackle,
neither explaining any rhyme,
nor giving reason, then busting
out in laughter obliquely
analogous to ramshackle
structure, resultant outcome
from some slapstick
Vaudevillian farcical debacle,
perhaps regarding the heady
beer burr of Seville scene thru
black and white daguerreotype mackle
more or less hazy, gauzy,
or fuzzy warm
feeling in actuality
thinly disguised as
dog gone hackle,
which vicious canine attacks ready
to tear limb bough to limb mitt,
thus luckily handily repair
with accessible spackle
ye kept on yar person, which caper
doth captcha an instantaneous titter
easily confused for
mating call of grackle
giving rise to a raft of songbirds
that incessantly crackle
snap, and pop with...witch sounds
indeed oven eerily
bloody suck'n vampire
bat out of hell cackle.
Other creatures in
the animal kingdom
cane be barley able
to communicate wheat seems
oat rage juice lee wry,
no matter how
much horse sense,
a smart species doth
porpoise lee try
though porcine not
remiss to wallow
in mud as seen high
atop a bridge
abutment over the River Kwai
ah look...a pig in a poke
unable to pry
loose caked mud blocking snout
prematurely ejaculating, an outcry
for help even fishing for small fry
doubling up as
potential best buds
with Englishman such as Dry
den, and/or dear reader
hood doth lamentably cry
claiming this badinage i.e. my
trademark gobbledygook didst render
momentary lapse of
reasonable judgement alibi.
Ole to yon poet writer of words
Yet engaging tarring rhythmically graphics
As all four corners images edging
I have dreamed of these those sketches
I heard an endearing, developing edging
That moment my soul grew Polaroid™
Much I marveled this irresistible press release
Extra-extra read all about it
I remember I was benefiting, computer buffering
By the grave I saw the waded balled up papers
I awoke and flung the printing ink everywhere
Deep into that darkness tattooing covering my skin
When I thought of the art
I remember I was drawing
But in the fact that it was growling
I discovered the sections
The cartographic cartoon classing
Back into my memories enticing
Disciplining and disciplining with my article
And the images never titillating
I crave the pleasurable, palatable poster
Deep into that darkness paragraphing
The deleted drawing diagraming
That moment my soul grew 7th
Much I marveled the exciting blurb text unreadable
While I crave the surprising, scrumptious spelling
For my editorial essay entrancing picture that
Fingering writing on this old Royal™ typewriter, tap-tap-tap-tapping
1/27/22
Written words by James Edward Lee ©2022
SHE IS LADY ZOYA
From rich bucket bills of grandeur bliss
Dawns wobbling chills from cruel treachery
Harsh is the murmur of the night, my Lady
Has Aidos spang slain as disgrace ink reign?
Swarm of bees threats and afire the days
Seems... to live life, one must be on break away
Gowns and golds gone like a storm
Tears a rain clouding the seeds of reform
Never-say-die attitude the tarring rock
Ah! The Lady Zoya got this trait in blocks
Shut down on countless turbulent thuds
Still, she arise like a Monarch from the mud
Royal blood dance viscous to her veins
But to burlesque shows, she swayed in vain
For her children: Nicholas and Sasha.
Her picturesque-like the late Princess Diana.
Huge fire almost killed her children
She changed. Later became, a fashion designer
Simon Hirsch saw a diamond from a spread of roughs
He married and dressed her in lovelier stuffs
The tambourine music of war took her husband life
Penthos again bathe her ever wounded thrive
Yet, love abounds never did she succumb
She strive to strum melodies from the crumbs
________________________________________________
**Zoya Konstantinovna Ossupov is a Russian countess,
a young cousin to Czar Nicholas II during the Russian revolution and World War I..
Terms:
Aidos: shame, can range from a sense of respect
Penthos: grief, suffering
©
9:38pm; November 11, 2014
4/24/24
I've played plenty
On my conscious life weighed heavy
I have to stay ready
Then aim steady
Obstacles I will face many
Can't give ground or let them take any
These snakes pesky
Often they petty
Life can get way deadly
One big crazy medley
That sometimes became sketchy
After turning strange and messy
When it all begun
At first it seemed fun
But now I constantly need one
Its like a giant re run
As if it all means none
I just want the deed done
Too much green buds
Turning to weak lungs
Coursing through my veins is beast blood
Surging like an extreme flood
Causing me to eat bugs
Then overdose on these drugs
Because I just need love
I don't care what she does
Still secrets swept under antique rugs
Continual self centered greed
Across the seven seas
It never seems
I have more than I could ever need
I just cant let it be
Even for better means
Militia troops
Involved with religious groups
That have ties to wicked roots
Still tricking youths
How can I believe we all pay the cost for a man picking fruit
Hard to say if they're giving the truth
When there's no living proof
Just some mark or trinket found by a shipping route
It was settling
But people couldn't stop meddling
Now too late for regretting things
The same can be said for back peddling
It's continued developing
I do not look forward to the hell it brings
The ground trembling
Buildings leveling
The noise is deafening
It's as they've described a reckoning
Might as well be my death sentencing
This is menacing
All this wrestling
With what I continue questioning
Life doesn't get easier, I forgot mentioning
Sick of the concept of time, quit threatening
Like my life is on a clock, it's unwelcoming
Why do lives get regarded as second string
Y'all should be ashamed for tarring and feathering
Still you give yourself too much crediting
Quit all your beckoning
You're really just heckling
Slowly disassembling
Yet still a nestling
Playing on uneven ground, hardly ever leveling
Eventually will or won't make sense of things
SELAH
As the sharp rays
of sunlight slowly sliced
through the tarring tinted clouds,
I wiped away the web
of darkness of night;
broke off a piece of time
and used it to scrape away
the corrosion of apathy
from the heart of my mind
and resuscitated eroded emotions.
Today I will open
dusty luggage of creativity
and pull out wrinkled war worn words;
etch ebony emotions of long lived life
onto the refined pulp of trees
And weave soul stirring songs;
mould scented flowers
of peace, love and justice; as
I feel the breath of God
warming my serene sweet soul
while feathering the nest
of my precious, poetic pregnant mind.
Selah.
SELAH
As the sharp rays of sunlight slowly sliced
through the tinted tarring clouds
sculpting away the web of darkness of night
I broke off a piece of time and used it
to scrape away the corrosion of agony
from the heart of my mind
and resuscitated my eroded faith.
Today I will open dusty luggage of creativity
and pull out wrinkled war worn words of creation:
etch ebony emotions of long lived life
onto refined pulp of trees; weave soul stirring songs;
mold scented petals flowering peace and love;
and feel the breath of God warming my serene sweet soul
as He feathers the nest of my pregnant poetic mind. Selah.
It's another morning and I'm so fortunate
To awaken and enter another day
I reflect for a few moments
And remember the ones who strayed
For many a reason this has happened
Mans inhumanity to man is one
Car jacking in many cultures
Or the bullet from many a gun
Rapists, paedophiles and murderers
No care for the victims they claim
Be it needle, chair or rope
Taken out should be our aim
And now I speak of the gangs
Their bravado speaks volumes to them
Peer power within their families
In my eyes they'll never be men
To the politicians I care not to look
Never tarring them all the same
It's the ones that lie through their teeth
Power and riches their illegal fame
The next morning I awake once again
And reflect on the decent out there
Much time I can reflect about them
To the good I can always fare
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