Long Tongue lashing Poems
Long Tongue lashing Poems. Below are the most popular long Tongue lashing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tongue lashing poems by poem length and keyword.
Unseasonal summer rains at once burst
Everywhere litter and garbage dispersed
Making men run here and there for shelter
In no time, life becomes helter-skelter
Unexpected like facing an old friend
Heat waves turn into zephyrs in the end
Enraptured by a great relief to hearts
Pleasant weather diffused in many parts
Unlucky for farmers who toiled year long
Grains stay afloat; a heart rendering song
In the wink of an eye, things go tumbled
Happy dreams about their kindred crumbled
Unkind like a bad master who reviles
Vicious arrows of words for making trials
With tongue lashing, makes the servants feel hurt
As huge hailstones thudding down with a spurt
Unfurls an eye feasting vibrant rainbow
Cleans air and makes leaves look fresh and aglow
Koel starts singing as if spring gets back
A curtain raiser to ‘Fall’ next on track
Place: 2nd
The soups and breads were fixed
know seemed to have interest
In that. One commented that the
Chickens used in the soup were as
big as geese, naming one kingKong.
Garlic and margine was used with
Garden herbs to create the croutons.
He would be a one man ed gang to
complete all the tasks still needed to
be done before the party goers arrived.
She like using terms for the chores
which were incomplete and offered to
do them herself, Fee-end she spoke of the
staff lacking to clean both softshelled crabs
and the softshelled crayfish. They should be
I ed of put in the frig she said.
Leaving the crew of one puzzled. A hall of fame
to the genius who invents a robot who isn't afraid
of my tongue lashing. Until the both you and I are
are at best the seasoning of which is to follow.
The need to be on time and prudent.
Useless
Keeping what I have inside to hide my true self for others to benefit without throwing a fit 'cause I'm useless and getting sick of it....
useless is a new feeling like an empty thought revealing to people that
I am less then them to make them feel good about themselves...
high on their pedestal like trophies on shelves earned by greatness
I don't even have a medal...though I'd settle for pats on the shoulder...Or smart ass commendings...
but I am useless...my pen feels my pain...but i remain my strong witted ordain....
sleep the same and stay a sucker in the life game...
i am useless like a marine without a gun...nothing to show for my gain...
closer to my own head fame....RUN!...
I wear my war face outside to hide my battling pain inside....
bite my tongue and take the strikes of a tongue lashing being insulted
destroying my strive driven pride...intelligence...I seem not to possess my heart is filled with stress hanging my head in shame
wearing a hood to hide my face for I am useless...and I'm to blame cause I let it happen...I am useless and show that I cannot be counted on...but I struggle strong and will 'til my life is gone...invisible gun..BANG....my head can no longer hang...dang...what am I to do now...it's a damn shame...but I am to blame...I am useless like a gun without a soldier...as I mature much older my shoulder becomes brittle...mind shrinks little...hop becomes a wiggle..shakes become worst.....useless like liverwurst...like dirt I am walked on looked upon like I'm incompetent...but I am content at being useless...like steak to someone with no teeth...eyes open to disbelief...for a brief second...listen to me when I am useless
By: Peter T DeSpirito
F l y i n g
a sailing tailwind
through cerulean streams
and creamsicle colored beams—
are wings reflective
of the turquoise truth
and white purity
of Autumn’s ether
he aviates
a clear troposphere
riding an unbridled
capricious and combative
boreas
on the cusp
of a new season
with a plumage infusion
of shifting Cape Cod skies
the blue jay mixes hues
with the Northern azure
that fades to shades
of turmoil
to the South and East—
becoming lost
in its milky breadth
its lilting light
its dimming depths
where the edge of rustic rural
meets the sandy ridge of conifers—crooked
twisted and back-bent
from gales
of salt-sprayed sorcery
Canadian bluster-gusts
leading the charge
of a cold sapphire crest
is bedeviled
offshore
by the raw
tongue-lashing spin
of a brooding onshore flow
twirling
a brewing brawl
whirling
in slate pearlescent space
s w i r l i n g
with the dusky feistiness
of stormy petrels…
mobs of darkening fog
growing fatter
on summer’s fainty surrender—
leftover tints of tender cornflower
and hints of dainty dove
there’s a sparkle
in the eye of the storm…
his mischievous black gaze
mirrors
the harsh harbinger
of commotion
clash and change—
his piercing “jay-jay” jabs
the maddening mayhem
of menacing air
with an emerald-needled sharpness
of wind-weary pitch pines
anchoring
the beige of coastal dunes
where his refractive blues
take cover
in colorful contrast
ahead
of the bruising
October nor’easter
Great White Father,
About those anti-BadNewsMedia rallies
while our SouthWest is burning
and while our SouthEast is flooding
and wet windstorm conflagrating,
feeling the flamed-up wrath
of an angry EarthGoddess,
Why do you plant and nurture hate
and anger
against potential WinWin integral communicators?
Did it not once occur to you
to wonder why you chose to be elected
in this climate precarious time?
Why are you like BadNews zealously mendacious Saul
when we so obviously need a more integrated St. Paul?
Filled and overflowing with healthy integrity,
Holy Matriarchal Spirit-Nature.
Your mockery
and tongue-lashing
and transparent ego-promotion
will not help one child
recall what a great job you did
while made in U.S. of A. family homes
and forests are burning
longer and stronger
every devolutionary decade.
Your egotism
and anthropocentrism
further inflame climate disasters
and absence of accessible health care,
cooperatively given as received,
and healthy wealth of economic and politically reasonable reassurance
that, together,
as a healthy bicameral democracy,
we can rebuild this co-dominating
co-operative constitutional
integrity we so redemptively WinWin need
We need to gather to heal Earth's climates,
not to destroy them
with bad attitude and vilifying pathologies
rather than gratitude and health-wealth celebrations
to restore justice and invite cooperatively owned peace
into ego/eco-centered green health hearts
and wealth societies
reforesting our WinLose deserts,
Revolve
resolve our storming desserts
for past hubris
of Great White Fathers
demanding missionary colonization
inflaming idolatrous hate
rather than inviting
our seas to still
our surviving trees to witness our worship.
One difference between you
and Barack Hussein
I notice you never mention:
You look at historical outcomes
for nature/spirit WinWin Native Americans
and gleefully declare
"They lost!"
Barack recalls those same disempowering outcomes
and sadly, yet more patriotically, notes
"We all lost."
I wonder if the burning homes
and trees
can hear that terrifying empathic difference
for future integrity
of a mental and physical
mind and body
spiritual and natural healthy democracy.
Of many are poets in soup
gagged with the air we breathe
suffocated by the strings of hawks
perked by the long neck of an ostrich.
Drown in the murky water of obsequiousness
tied to the apron strings of what to chomp
turned juggler for survival instinct
danced to the tune of he that plays the piper.
Others' soup plunged them into soup
tongue-lashing the untouched of the land
louding the truth above the speaker of life
paying for the conviction in-built
But the poet is already in the pot
struggling to un-pot himself
fromthe fangs and thorns of the land
how long will he be potted still in the pot?
quaintest of little restaurants
sweet setting for a bit of romance
lights dimly dimmed
tables set just so
menu absolutely delightful
prices meant not to give a fright
we sat there in the corner
before long heard some kafuffle
from behind in the kitchen
it went on and on
was just relentless
we could hear
every single word
vicious tongue lashing
we figured out in time
this idyllic setting
was just a venus trap
it didn’t take us long
to gather up our things
run out as fast we could
Submitted on October 4, 2021 for "R" CONTEST, NEW OR OLD sponsored by CONSTANCE LA FRANCE - RANKED 2ND
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Coocoo chacoo!
Well, you’d think a blithering idiot
got hold of my governor controls……..
You’d think Watt had never invented a throttle for my mouth
Of course, no one ever has, and doubts exists anyone could
ever muzzle me with a full head of righteous steam ready to blow.
Issues well, there are few civilization doesn’t seem in my mind
able to get a grip on without a damn good tongue lashing!
Like why does one faith think they’re “tapped” for heaven
and the rest of us peons are damned to hell?
How come some folks think skin color determines brain power
or sex determines ..any kind of power….oh yeah…
there’s a bit a steam coming out of my ears now!
The cogs in my cerebellum are spinning
like a pinwheel cracker on the fourth of July!
And how come there’s a surprise when kids raised
in a dictatorship school system come out
not being able to think for their self’s?
Yup, the lips are flappin’ and the eyes are buggin’ and
the soap box in Covent Gardens better watch out!
November 6th 2018 - election day
Later today after
all votes get cast
post final countdown,
the winning candidates
ought to be known
way before break fast
cometh on the lanced
morrow (for champions),
nonetheless
my fingers and toes crossed,
that those donned diametrically
opposed to establishmentarian
(reed conservative
buttoned down
MAGA stalwarts) deemed
more dangerous than
beastie boys, or
foo fighting, Outkast
sans, these progressive forward
thinking Democratic activists
(purportedly threatening
gerrymandered territory,
where white Anglo Saxon
Protestant hegemony dominates
status quo regarding
dhow ting Thomas Nast
tee Donkeys as
hashtagged by Trump),
I pray these true
purring blue state
representatives clinch,
the majority to oust vast
Republican politicians cowed,
demeaned, and excoriated
for NOT fawning
prince supple lee,
nor paying expected
obeisance as mealy
mouth sycophants, that she
push hilly accede toward
belligerent, execrable,
and incriminating, nee
Machiavellian hot headed,
quasi coiffed,
donned, and puffed que
hair raising bully,
whose vindictive
uber lyft tartly tinged
tongue lashing,
they risk acerbic
punitive un re
lent ting vitriol stemming
from recalcitrance determined
by the fuhrer wannabe
wool shear lee be silenced
unless that bigoted,
"FAKE" man hat
tinned unabashed, unhinged,
and unruly
villainous president we
the village people nominated
to bulldoze zee
American free
dumbs, now made irrelevant!
“Only girls cry!…Boo hoo!”
"Look at you" he taunted me, (as big brothers often do)
Making a mockery. He kept teasing me, heckling me,
as I whined, and cried, and planned revenge
Neither of us would have won a prize, for being Mom's angelic pride,
of Kirby street that hot July...
“You Thug!”..I cried,…a laughing stock...his mocking me,
and worst of all, our bitter brawl played out for all the world to see.
No recourse, no remorse..(poor me!!)… As the butt of his demeaning jokes
By then my temper had been stoked, he had poked me once too often!
So HUGE, was my disdain for his smug, big thug, that grinning face,
in retaliation, for my humilation, (as an enraged little sister might do..)
I grabbed one of his model airplanes….and threw……THREW HARD...
It broke into shards, big shrapnel pieces…I dashed for cover...
Hovering behind the hedge…waiting for his own revenge!…
Instead it left a gash, a bloody angry wound, I was aghast....!
Well, of course our Mother got involved.. .
It was resolved by iodine and bandages
And a tongue lashing...
“You could have put out his eye!! ….and then we cried, …the two of us
Well we would repent, and spent the day becoming friends...
The afternoon out in the yard….
One sudden, unguarded moment ….
there was a car,.... came ‘round the bend
and as our game was 'bout to end....his dog, (his mongrel friend) was hit
....and then....
all time suspended........
My brother’s sweet dog, who slept on his bed, was gone
The next hours painfully hung…and long is the memory that still weighs a ton….
Ending with me alone in my bed..
Mute with grief ….remembering his words….”Only girls cry”….
Hearing his sobs……all through the night..
And my parent's cooed comfort, the soundtrack to this tragic movie
That still plays in my darkest theater….all these years later
I shudder still, have a lump in my throat…how that faint little scar, can still emote…
such feelings of tenderness I felt on that day.
Over the years…we have shared many tears…
we have leaned on each other, me and my brother
Big girls will cry, just as little girls do…and big boys can cry,
..and hey,..that’s okay, too