Long Trouncing Poems

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


Yukon Call Me Panic

Vane glorious and absolutistic,
     though I defiantly,
     cavalierly, and blithely attest
Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy
     mine acidic breast

houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic,
     barbaric, and bubonic
     cannibalistic demons within thy
     safely guarded Pandora chest
atomic cesium clock

     timed to trigger avast
     burst of anxiety, frenzy, and 
     (What me worry 
     Alfred E. Neuman) blast
ting mental quietude at most
     inappropriate, inconvenient,

     inopportune, out classed
adrenaline rush, nausea,
     palpitating heart, vertigo
besieging, corrupting,
     endeavoring fractured arrant

cleft daemonic gripping
     hellishly psychic chant
rendering unto sieze hoar,
     a choking vise grip extant
yule hiss sieze indomitable

     banshee fully controlling grant
diabolic, dogmatic, and dynamic,
     anguished corporeal ache
easily, egregiously, and emblematically,
     exemplified historically

     graphic fatalistic, and ecstatic coup,
     (koo), when I caused furious frantic flight,
     and/or fight betake
king angst causing just desserts
     for Marie Antoinette,

     who got her humble pie cake,
thence dispensing with formalities,
     where a joshing drake
     (named Gill O. Teen)

also known (solely known
     to mine selfish source error ways)
alias i.e. as; the Lewis (loose)
     lunatic, heady harvester,
     and decapitation Deacon trumpeting,

     trouncing, and triumphing tranquility
     for fifty three Tuesdays,
thence sea king punishing psychotic
     pre pound payment
     basking in glory (re: gory us)

     amidship crashing quays
music to mine ears hearing plaintive neighs
high pitched straining
     vocal chord hamstrung keys
regaling oceanographic
     lambent hagiographic essays
and keeping at bathos bays.


Aftermath of Hurricane Florence Eye One

Florence hydra logical might -
tee pseudo tentacles, monstrous sight
didst bring watery plight,
deluge rivaling Noah - bliss oblige
     epic flood of biblical
     proportions, downright
terrible, re:, a drowning egregious fright
ten ning (in contest

     able uber catastrophe) - Don know why
     das trumpeting spare none, tossing,
     pitching, and lap
     ping blithely alight
ting across geography of thee
     Old North State leaving affright
full trail of destruction, (envied by
     the ghost of General

     William Tecumseh Sherman),
     he no match, where battling
     mortal men didst bite
the bullet outflanked,
     sans doodling Yankees topflight
capstone march to the sea,
     then touted as outright
masterful stroke, asper,

     turning tide of historical Civil war,
     which swath of indiscriminate overnight
destruction in tandem
     followed his Georgia quick step,
     successful Atlanta battle, fight
     ten, which campaign
     rendered victory in sight
Union accorded devastated country

     as winning booty, viz prizefight
ting champions clearly, grimly,
     and lamentably plunged
     once promisingly emergent
     then vanquished Confederacy
     with defeat written
     in figurative bombsight,
qua Rebels surrendering

     at lanced armstrong
     rapier pointed to Appomattox Court House
     original United States territory
     initially indigenous copyright,
stolen, whence ark enemy
     routed, killed, and decimated
     blood brethren human kind -
versus present natural disaster

     no matter meteorologists foresight,
nonetheless horrendously cruel debacle
     crushing The Tar Heel state
     trouncing analogously
     as aqueous blight
damn hellacious sight
tropical storm forcibly reclaiming
     visa vis re...

The Cross

Skulled hill
                            supports
                            the lifted
                            standard; 
                            skull bent
                            and dark; 
                            naked for
all who travel the high–way to see those exposed: 
the arrogant, the proud; the humble and forgiven; 
the one who forgives the most needs no forgiving. 
                           Red sealed
                           and stained
                            with filthy
                           lacerations; 
                            suspended
                            with spikes
                            on toothed
                            roughhewn
                           dry kindling
                           envisioning
                           the fires of
                           hades itself
                           trouncing on
                           the carnage. 
                           I accept and
                           make it my
                         own.  The Cross.

Premium Member Successor's Name Is Death-Bell

The most audacious dynasty will beget darker.
When I'm not on the moon, prefer courtship.
When a child is accustomed to bearing a light.
A scotopic vision marker to support you to view finer at night.
"Follow the Dust," I'd say. 

A feeble pace at once.
Dwindle to that cognate yawning egress.
It's all around aping falls.
Soldering and thumb pinching through advent.
Grasp a deep breath and inhale the fly and its shroud.
Leopards swallow their own stripes.
In the womb, a furious fleshly critical stage.
Crushed limbs, legs, and bones 

The tongue taunts, ravages, and slashes.
A blade of trouncing stirs the heart, head, and breast.

Seasonal mutations and season lapping
To belay the womb is alike extending the beck.
Slap the crying baby as the doctor lauds the progenitors.
The game probes over time, and the tape flashes back. 

The infant is delivered in agony.
The cycle sustains. Opposite.
The calyx steadily shuts and unravels.
Nervous swimmers accept the offered hand.
We grasp a deep breath, cough, and rise. 

I am aware of my circumstances.
Solemnities in the exploding quantities.
Fire according to man's precise maps.
The shelter and the roads linger both sites of death.
At clubs and crowds, there is death.
Death, death, and again death.

Written: February 22, 2022
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Perdition Be Damned

Perdition Be Damned!

Body electric zapped
lower gastrointestinal tract
wracked with wretchedness
pitted, rocked, and tortured
severe muscle spasms cramp
deathly hallowed deliverance

beseech divine creator to exorcise relief
any panacea trumpeted vetoed
pestilential nausea diarrhea
wreaks relentless havoc
horrid ordeal twists insides
lack strength to live

breathing a laborious effort
bedrest temporarily alleviates
generally healthy ironclad junket
weatherbeaten rickety ship of state
restorative sought trouncing unwell
corporeal self against torture

assailing, castrating, 
and drubbing existence
avocations ordinarily promulgating 
resplendent joie de vivre
squelched, scotched, and sabotaged,
courtesy minuscule mailer daemons

emotions unlikely culprit,
though times gone by anxiety
tindered, pitched, and kindled
abominable irritable bowel syndrome
prescription medication tempered
badgering, crippling, and debilitating

panic attacks plagued this primate
manifesting feeble endeavor
to experience poignant satiation,
asper simple pleasures nonexotic
endeavors merely passively living
as one organic carbon based

human being finding fulfillment
meditating, reading, and writing,
now fleeced, deprived, and blitzed
suspicious disagreeable provender
perhaps lactose intolerance

after enjoying pizza birthday
fours days prior
celebrating chronological centenary,
sans one frail resident here,
Highland Manor Apartments
suddenly, I feel chill o' rigor mortis!


Premium Member A Song of Brown

I loved you from the very first day
Amidst the noise of dish and tray
And the people that attached to them
For I was caught up in this hymn-

A song written solely of brown
And I began to cherish the sound
'Cause your eyes were as notes of changing tune
As high and as low as an evening moon

Yet, always to commingle free
And provide the sweetest melody
Your skin and hair would then combine
To produce a soft and wavy rhyme

Each verse would touch the heart and soul
Trouncing my heart with its gentle loll-

The birds of song that come in Spring
Envy the song of brown you sing
And I have never felt so fine
Your song is in this heart of mine
Form: Rhyme

The Horse

The Horse

Watch his splendor 
as he strides elegantly across the prairie.
His beautiful mane blows like a leaf
on a windy November day.

Each step. One after the other, gracefully taken,
as not to lose the rhythm.

The ground beneath him, uneven, uneasy for his 
stepping, is taken with great arrogance.
He stops for only a moment,
to nibble on a blade of grass. 
He looks around, left to right and behind, 
to be sure that no one is watching
his unusual dance on the prairie.
He dances with the beating of time, never ending,
and only he can hear it.
It will never stop, as the hands of time never do.
His tail with its one fleck of black upon it 
sways like a child on a swing.
Going faster and swinging higher,
to show the pleasure of the dance.
It sways with the beat of each hoof
trouncing the ground.

Will he stop? Possibly
However, does it matter?
He is free from the world of anger, pain, fear
and reprimand.
Let him go now, he is free like the wind.
No rider shall violate the beauty of his body, 
no slashes of anger shall be felt 
on his innocent flesh,
and no blood shall be shed to hit the ground,
to make a pool of color on the ground.
Let him run.
He is there no more
to take the beatings of the whip.
Let him go now, he is free like the wind
Form:

Premium Member They Say He Is a Loser

To criticize a person with a crude controversy,
Is like stripping off one's clothes, in public, without mercy;
This has been, yet, a habit common in the social sphere,
Like drinking a cup of coffee or cheering in chilled beer...!

Lula da Silva, a member of the Workers' Party,
Trouncing Geraldo Alckmin, won people's support hearty;
He came to be known as the most popular president,
With wisdom and wit, he did blend his prime power advent...!

Poverty, inequality, joblessness, child labor,
Illiteracy, and infant deaths he did not favor;
Average wage morals and income modes molded and matched,
Ethos with education and health care got soon attached...!

Disputes erupted about him on and off like mushrooms,
Jailed and released as though a goat thief or burglar of brooms;
Elected president as though no speck of theft stuck him,
He was soon plagued by many corruption scandals grill grim...!

He fanned, like fuel wind, through fumes of filial fiddles,
Molded mildly and minutely, evil ethnic appeals;
Operation Car Wash exposed his treasure-hidden frauds,
He was found guilty of wads by all odds before law-gods...!

Nine-fingered (left-hand little finger lost in a mishap),
Like the Chinese cartoon rat escaped from many a trap;
Yet, when the hands of law and the divine amalgamate,
Could even a pirate great easily skate off his fate...???


21 April 2023
They say he's a loser Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Trouncing Mine Heart

.

                 "This is Spring" said I
                  what could go wrong 

                     The sun shining
                   with a soft warmth
                   mine eyne glowing
          my brain trouncing mine heart
                    wheedling me on

                       "Look there
                      in the garden
                  presenting Spring's
                        soft breeze
                     pining affection
                          leaning
                     pointing in my
                         direction

                    her florescence"

Premium Member Champion's Chomp

A Champion must lust for that ancient adrenaline
the primal prize alive in the eyes, trophy of thunder in the pulse,
a Champion's heart welcomes adversity with teeth gleaming sharply,
worships the battlefield with risk righteous in ripped tradition,
doesn't celebrate the strikes that knock the foe into awe
finds glory in striving for the impossible
creates Legend from the unthinkable become visible,
buries the adversary's soul in the winter of forever woe,
the Champion says with disciplined effort and presence pure in practice,
lightning is comin for you, blasting your bones, bashing your boasts
tear you up and down and all around
your dreams nor dare, will not be found,

The Champion must adore the trauma of training,
remembers the humility of a Beginer's trouncing,
must pray with innocent instinct, thank Providence with confident conviction,
makin bravery out of bruises and being headstrong amidst hecklers,
invents technique like a Freeborn freak,
they shame the opposition into reverence with indisputable excellence,
true Champions are unforgettable, architects of shock and hope irrevocable,
indestructable like a titanium pyramid,

To be a Champion is to have a demolishing drive,
they must excel when underestimated
and must dominate when expected to succeed,
the Champion's Faith devours fear and punishes pretenders,
to finish the foe with decisive declaration, " Check Mate! "
a Champion always defies, and never dies,
there is no calculation of defeat for an Angel following a Divine beat -

J.A.B.
Form: Didactic

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