Long Trow Poems
Long Trow Poems. Below are the most popular long Trow by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trow poems by poem length and keyword.
Behold the pulchritude overhead exalts to about a spread.
It is o full swift which greatly outstrips thunder and gale added,
Yet ocular to sigh from more than a score of hillocks afar.
It is yet not as harefooted as my head can proceed thinking,
Wending in raining sands anyway in the world; I am, warping.
Eclipsing, rising flowering is stalking to a lightning hark.
Fit ratherish hebetates the wit seeing the fleeting on-dit.
Wights excitedly get unaware and err without a merit.
Thunderstorm is a marvel, a thrill, and opposite to a pit.
To expand the concept in top glass, I can only compound it
To a bit, as Oak's nether jut loud rackets; I lief bracket it
To daunted lit fibrils in an electric, animated chit.
Grandiosity and haste of german "Blitz" allure me pretty,
Puffing sinew of great intensity as exit gratefully.
No wonder Homer, a sage, enkindled Zeus with it slatefully.
Withal, Gandalf scragged up a demon by a bolt, hit it fatefully.
I fumble in night to kiss spits heard in my inner olio.
To fancy, a mountain of clouds on the stratosphere sits and flows.
Ergo, zenith and nadir fascinate each other, pitch and tow.
Lightning is jars of macedoines of grits afloat as dominoes.
A scad of millesimals in a galaxy: shrunk, shot, and blows.
Such dragons breathe snows wee of infinitesimal ratio,
So snows sock the gullible cherub in me so as hue arrows.
A bolt o real as it speeds, is so so vivid; No nod, it glows.
A man tranquil in a head, able or wicked, it's good to know,
Mental heaven to if it is full facile to trow; Thor follows.
Form:
Dan was such an ardent fan of schwab and scoros
With such evil plans, he toadied up this man from
Wang' As we call Wangeratta.) for he didn't give a damn' his pebble specs were
Focused on, the denigration of Victorians.' In his own real dirty
Plans, almost two years he weilded terror, all trust he would
Destroy, i would cringe were I related.' What thoughts would have
The mother? I really wonder? Of her boy.? He resigned his
Seat, quite dirty now; another takes it on' maybe just as
Evil' A w e f moron? After said retirement he thought to take
Up golf.? But they rejcted him at Mornington, said he's really as bad
As rolf
Not a man..' In the way of honourable' i suppose is what is meant
All of his attributes?? Are what others might call bent?
Portslade club, you've done us proud may Australians all stand
Straight! And applaud you loud and strong, granted grace i hope
To come, and wish all well in verse and song.' You truly are my mates'
Now Dan the dil.? I rate him low, Pentridge being' too good for him to go
A hole in one, one mile below and i'll dig that. And by hand I trow' Its the
Place where he should go, you dirty crook minded ham, no act no
Words, will ever take away, the shame, you ladled on..The ones that
Gave you chance, to show your attributes?? And was that wrong??
Its good your gone, you brought me tears I felt much shame I hate
The whisper of your name, Koby Dimond is light years ahead, you evil Scum; to me you're dead.' For all The hurts you heaped on others,
May you rot away ( you wrongo ) lover! forever; with all the other sick
Misinfo Shovers.!
the outrage caused her to curse and lie.
She told her people of the story of
the sycamore Gap Tree: near
Hadrian's Wall. The stems that grows largest of
all stems.An arborist might detail.
She heard he was facetious, and refused
to take the situation seriously.Recalling the
night he and she would ride there horse
through the woods and trow rotten tomatoes at
people as they rode by.
Auld the fellow who fell the tree! Auld the son of
the fellow who felled the tree! Clipe one said of the woman
who ratted on the two: who fell the tree.Concupiscible
the ancient tree by the ancient Roman wall
near england and near Scotland,
"Concupiscible in deed!" said the woman.
Brabble might we augue of the detail, might it resprout
as the arborist would say,: might it resprout, than we will
have a new tree! Might the trunk be mickled to
be an oboe for an orchestra, whilst a
chatter box muse in song!A bawbag Festival,
one would say? She asked of the need to
fall an ancient tree by the ancient wall near
both Scotland and Near England.
Aye:aye the sorter of
bawbags mind you!" both Scottish and English.
Would one then take the trunk of the treto make picture frame and
chest to be make mystery of the large truck that
we may whisper whooniums in private?
Than some might brawl as they are crabbitt from not
being in the factous knowings,. He who is crabbit might brawl?
Is marrage the socail good? Such sings the chatter-box.
He said, I don't know why you're acting like this.
Yoou trow the cornbread on thr table
and it fell to the floor. I got up and left.
you hit me with the Hoe, on purpose
again I left.
When you took the credit card
and put it back in mthe draw with
nothing one it:
I didn't say anything.
But yesterday I went
to the Women at Beat- ah- Bytch.
And hired sum Protection.
you gonna get your honey.
They gonna get you!
Told them E'ery thang.
You don't know who you dealin wiff!
How bout that!
How do them apples grab you?
Bet not be mad cause you pregant:
I asked you if
I could do-it!
You say yes Baby!
You said Yes!
Bet-knot be!
Excepts from "Your Mean Mother" or " Une mere Phussier"
written by Vargue Howarth, New Tile press. Ny, New York.
written with permission from
Gabby Noitall and Bet knot Mister who appears courtsey
of Prestige and money, Fame of wealthy men Inc.
call Brime Stoney for music rights.
Brime appears courtsey of gumout tasting bbq
with watered down ketsup Music Company.
Things Fussing People say: recorded live
with permission from Fussy and Them.
From Damn fool Record Company.
Godbout Canada.....
luctatio they branded the term
to define there interest
it was clear to all involved
Could stand proud and applaud.
Tuxedos and gowns, tonight.
We started out looking
for silver and gold.
We had designed a buckle for
the belt.
We carved it by hand.
It was rather beautiful
I put " Worlds Champion"
across the top.
The eagle was centered below the
Championship claim.
I thought it was rather beautiful
The day of the unveiling, I had asked
Saddlemen to go to the store
and get some nice wine
nothing real fancy or weird.
We needed it to start the celebration.
It's a tradition to start the celebration off with the pour of
the wine.
We poured it into a bassoon.
We don't drink it we trow it out.
I gave him enough for two bottles.
One to start the celebration and the other to end the evening.
It's fun you know I really think people
are gonna have a great time tonight!
Tonight I lie here on this prairie,
Covered with a blanket of stars.
Consolin' my hurt heart so weary,
Lickin' opened wounds an' scars.
Your relinquished Love forces acceptance,
Vanity has forced behavior.
Memories force reflectance,
Grief felt sorrow my only savior.
Ridin' this line repairin' fence,
My thoughts randomly insane.
From the day you left ever since,
Experienced never before such pain.
Moonlit stars reflect your smile,
The suns rays melt away my hurt.
Ahead the line disappears in miles,
The thaw soaks my bandana an' shirt.
Deceased dreams consume thoughts an' speech,
My frailty nourished by anguished throe.
Our sacred vows you abandoned an' breach,
The prairies' zephyr my antidote, I trow.
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright ©: December 30, 2003 ~ Tuesday
I am a book
with a cover of glitter and gold
an object of pure admiration
a character that's bold
a glamorous entity
a star about to unfold,
but you cant see through me
and my story is untold.
If you took off my covers
then what would you see
my page of black and a soul
that's not free,
bound by threads they captivate me.
The early chapters of the tale
depict an inerasable past,
chiseled out by misfortune over
which sorrow is cast,
so, to cover up the pain I wear
my glittery mask,
it's so very easy, I smile
and make the smile last.
But when I trow away the covers
that I so craftily mould,
and forget about my mask that's
worn out and old,
and cant find all the warmth in a
race that's so cold,
that will then be my rebirth and
my story retold.
Right or wrong, where do I lie?
Reality seems to tell me: "both, neither.
"Make your own path, follow it truly,
As long as your heart doesn't wavers,
You will not regret it."
But I do have doubts, How do I deal with the doubts?
The unanswered questions, the uncertainty of the way.
No path seem to be sure enough, I doubt them all,
My heart shakes, my mind is confused at the crossroad.
Maybe I should follow the "safest" road,
Maybe it's not so bad.
I could follow the path the others take,
So I won't be alone down the road...
I wanted to delay the decision, I press snooze.
But it won't let me, it keeps coming every time.
I guess I may have to play head or tails
Or trow a dice,
Then close my eyes and my mind
Then follow the path chosen by fate or chance...
Form:
Data now arrayed in teaming endless motion
Entices all who seek it ever more
To drops of information like an ocean
Or grains of sand along an endless shore
The knowledge that was little known til now
Is there for all to see with ease restated
To bring us wisdom? There’s the rub, I trow
For knowledge is not wise unvaluated
When scholars could read all books of all seasons
Some estimated truth: effect and cause
By piercing observation and with reason
Wise men uncovered universal laws
From the jetsam of all facts in that great main
Discerned the pearls that in plain sight had lain
4 November 2021
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It had been my dream since long go
I was so happy I could go
for the first time get to see snow
I thought it would freeze my toe
I looked around, above and below
mesmerized by the white floe
appreciating the milky show
feeling the frosty wind to blow
walking excitedly, carefully and slow
how my heart was, no one could know
I went so crazy, walking to and fro
I didn't like skiing though
just the landscape and its shining glow
I went sledding many times in a row
A bunch of snowballs was nice to throw
A snowman by me was able to grow
I went snowboarding following the flow
and left that place with a sense of woe
If I will ever go back, I trow!