Long Trumped Poems
Long Trumped Poems. Below are the most popular long Trumped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trumped poems by poem length and keyword.
Prick streches into a carved shape
Longer than its usual length stick
Readily active to puncture tire
In pleasurable drill of strain
And stress till urge sting
To enkindle silent click
Of achy healthy goo
Lightly snowing in
Clucking sounds
Repeatedly shh!
Uncontrollably
What a Prick!
Prick ohh!
Prick!!!...Let loose of heavenly blessings
Jikerewin ji!
Jikerewin ji! ji! ji!
Stifled heartbeats
Jikerewin ji! ji! ji! ji!
Trumped ji! ji! ji! ji! ji!
Ranging six feet whole
Settling down to the bottom
Of the bottomless pit from afar
Fumed fuse of aid beyond its wears
Off in standstill beckoning the patience
To rise and to ride on the way back home
In fun-- a well rounded shape of itself's best
Regards no mask to shame the staged claim
At start, it is able, strong, and hailing non-stop
But now, be willing; do not beyond thy strength
See it not a task but a duty taken up by its limit.
Life is short
Don't waste time
Love causes blindness
The distance between 2 people can cause insanity
Try new things in life
The things u want to do should matter
Correct any misconceptions
Conflict is a part of life and inconvenient as well
Let it go
Who u r may not be who u used to be
Who u thought u would be is not who u r
Love is trumped by Lust
Love is trumped by Desire
Love is trumped by Attraction
Beauty in any form can make the mind and eyes wander
Physical Attraction should not be hidden
If u r attracted to a person tell them
Pay attention to the sky
Feel the earth under u
Enter as many buildings as u can
See as many places as u can
You are who you are
Do not apologize for living life and enjoying life
Do the things that make u happy
Work is a part of life, accept it!
No work
No money
No life
Self motivation is necessary
Nobody can make u want to do something
Negativity can be stronger than positivity
Positivity has more benefits
Life is short
The Mind of a Poet is a CLUSTERF@$%
Perched on figurative shoulder...
taking devil's advocate stance...,
with sharp eyed cognizance
of course Joe King abidance!
Wild eyed traitor Joe Schmoe,
albeit Democrat subjects himself to grow
wing skepticism at impeachment show
whip lashed, viz strapping jock who stow
weapons of mashed destruction
expects at least one rotten tomato,
or "mother's petrified pop slop,
electronic brickbats, et cetera
hard as(s) bupkis targeting yours truly
smack dab rendering aspiring po'
wit smashing me face
courtesy final deathblow,
while pilloried vainly
waiting for... Godot,
cuz I must say impeachment travesty
appears triumphantly trumped,
where Nancy Pelosi will eat crow
proving Hillary Clinton's catchphrase
basket of deplorables apropos
aforementioned speaker of the house
tin pot dictatorial desperado
scuttling hither and yon to and fro
oddly enough even staking out
manhunt for Wizard of Oz
enlisting (right on the Dot) doggone toto
tense seat of pants increasing
stiff competition on all faux pas,
whereby freezeframe tableaux
icy (I see) as temperatures
dip down into five below
analogous to stop motion
projector manned by bonobo
sports petsmart stuff and struts
(think shock absorbed) ditto
Ringling Bros and Barnum
& Bailey Circus, where ma's yoyo
tricks, tracks, and trumps...
three ringed circus, nonetheless
(toe) nail biting suspense
amazingly graceful slick cameo
starring emperor donning
invisible new clothes
couture well worn portfolio
prosecutorial cadres itching
to dredge schmutz (quad) drilling,
and extracting ore region null
evidence upending forefathers status quo
appearing impressive bandying
sine qua non quid pro quo bingo
emphatic pedantic Latin Oh
though above named
language dead - Anglo
Saxon heavily and
will (yum) doth barr row,
especially to appear self important
those of the Senate
does saul full bellow.
When will Baz..Ben & their men ken..learn
Despite or to spite the "has beens" concern
Trouble to rubble only listen to their bubble
That Bazball trite shi*e they're always right
Be true to thine self.. the cover drive shelf
Lack that knack & gift to swiftly shift back
On pacy racy turfs where the conker surfs
Play it late and don't hit it on the up mate
Wafts of wishing fishing on the 5th stump
Down in the dump chump will then flump
Snag trumped by the ball that did rag jump
Nicked to slip or off the glove it did thump
Rascals debacles and wickets castled slump
Head more pizzazz..razzmattazz did gazump
Smoother purer surer bravura groover jazz
Baz did kowtow to an Aussie..now take a bow
OZ's wizard of the wood blizzard was that good
Y'all we should clearly really call it "TRAV or is that CHAV BALL !
OF AND IN THE MASTERING TODAY’S TRYING TIMES
Controversy has its place; for to disagree,
does not necessarily mean to disavow
except in the event of conspiracy
to subvert justice, and void
the right to life, liberty, and
the pursuit of happiness:-
Today’s controversy over power in America,
has become so conspiratorial that it has
reached the point of bastardizing some
of the great ideology of the founding
constitution of our present day,
weary worn, ununited nation:-
To lend some sort of legitimacy to it all,
those seeking to obtain overall power,
doing so by whatever means, have
demanded the national judiciary
to resurrect old legal-based terms,
to legitimize unconstitutional, fraudulent,
power mongering over those who are
victims of that old axiom’s echoing cry today:
ignorance is no excuse for breaking new laws:-
Thus, is today’s controversial legacy of corruption;
granting itself a special master to declare that law
is whatever his judiciary has been told to say it:-
Today’s conservative cold war political mockery,
is indeed, a “White House down” reality, echoing
bigoted power mongering evil pontification, towards
those deemed ignorant of daily bastardized, so-called
laws of a raped constitution’s womb of political equity,
Profusely bleeding daily, with trumped-up, idiotic ideology:-
Taking Today's Tumblerful Tea Time
This teetotaler turns to tea
torquing temptation
towards tippling
thankfully, though
that tremendous tugging
teasing tendency thirst trumped,
thru teaching this totally tubular
toothless titular Texan thuggish tyrant
(titled Tsar Terry Troutman)
transcendental theology
tenets taught transferring
torpedoing, taming threatening
titanic tsunami tempest
tastefully tickling temperance
testing trying taut tenacity
together teaming (troika)
triumvirate torchbearers
transsexual therapist
(Tony the tiger)
tough trailblazer theoretician
toady treacly Tory
(Tommy Two Tone),
thence thirdly Theodore
"Tornado" Tornetta)
themselves trained to tamp
twerking tremens triggers,
their tripartite treatment told
tattooing thorny transforming
took this then truant teenage turtle
through time traveling
to those truant tumultuous tragic,
toxic, tipsy twitchy, touchy, tetchy
typhoon terrible two times two
times two times two tantrum
throwing, thieving, threatening
taxing textured teen tinder times -
tossing, tilting, taking tankful tolled
throaty, thoroughly,
thickly telltale temblor
toured terrible tournament
testing taupe tumbling termagant (Thaddeus)
tangling (Tangoing) tiny Timothy,
the treacherous tarantula
tying tussling travail – tata!
He was a man penned,
By instinctive needs,
To whisk away,
Dirty deeds.
The necessities of others,
Trumped what was,
Making headlines,
Out of quiet acts.
Into a text,
He appeared,
From the text,
(h)e disappeared.
A lion he was,
Doubt it not,
Full of blood and fire,
Ready to grab his lot.
Sin was virtue,
Guilt was shame,
The man was hungry,
In want of a name.
The lamb came later,
Down gossip’s path,
Upon an alter,
History crossed.
The books,
With deliberate fancies,
Inverted the meaning
Of time.
Meanwhile,
Blood became wine,
As castles rose,
To hail the divine.
For God’s sake!
The man was made of steel!
Not like superman,
But still a pretty big deal.
One reason,
He became the son,
Was that god,
Needed to be born.
What was the point of
Laying down arms?
When the Romans came,
There were no other charms.
Ay, there’s the rub,
Machiavelli,
Outdated, outrun, out-stated,
By the donkey riding man.
Without faith,
Its all just a spoof,
With out doubt,
There’s no proof.
Before him,
Metaphors were magical,
After,
Merely logical.
Myth,
Is the shining example,
Of what you get,
When men dance and sing.
Religion,
Is the only way,
To get things right,
Some other day.
When the temple,
Came crashing down,
Fate was sealed,
For money ruled the town.
His worshippers protested,
Not to budge,
If he did,
Some rocks they would indulge.
Not one to say no,
Believing in his flock,
He was surprised,
How they began to mock.
When the real story began,
The fake one ended,
Men of action,
Lost their main attraction.
The men with quills,
Who with great depth,
Expressed their wills,
Still whisper in the halls.
Who’s to say,
What it means,
When all is said and done,
Nothing is as it seems.
All hail and rise,
To this story that was devised,
By one god damn man,
Of art he was comprised.
"Life must be a preparation for a transition to another dimension"
Terrence McKenna
We’re told it’s an event but it’s really a process
That it all flashes before us the moment we die
If that is true then I die daily
Track with me please as I egress
I’ve done the homework and the flashes lie
Despite their intentions, however gaily
And what of a moment or what is a day
Have they ever existed anyway
Man-made gizmos to help us reset
A thing we chose for which we regret
Or an unkind deed we’d hoped you’d excuse
Nay, manifest sperms from a younger man’s muse
I’ve ne’er been clobbered over the head
Nor slowly digested by a cancer bed.
Just too much time ingesting life’s ****
Avoiding the high road as the cadence said
When you my good man were born
You joined the army of the marching dead
Sacred and sordid private vignettes
Pass my sight as on display
for my review, soldiers from another day
Eyes dripping with future regrets
They’re too damn familial to let me see
My father’s carcass laid in-state in side of me
Serendipidies, Synchronicities, one way flights
Fortunes traded for stronger nights
Fair turned foul and foul trumped fair
Angels and devils dance side by side
Naked and primal to an ancient aire.
Passion and convention kibitz and collide
When there was no God upon my breath
When I hooked up with Lady Macbeth
Ceasing to be I still existed
Duly seduced by the good witch’s whispers
No epilogue in a comedy of manners
The plot became kitsch but so it persisted
Days will come when you’ll put it on paper
Sweating your numbers and so obsess
You soon start surfing on a yestertide
Their breath can reek of a lecherous vapor
And their flashes are but a vapor’s caress
Yet you, like me have survived
each day that you’ve died
Like procrastination, stagnation
and its constipated nature is like
a high hurdle before the finish line—
a pregnant thief waiting to trounce you.
Life’s like a race running through hell
and through its trials and tribulations,
we must keep running—for if we stop
we will surely burn in the fires of their hell.
With eyes on the prize, faith in God,
belief in self, keep running children;
otherwise, you’ll fail to make it through
the fires of hell being stoked around you.
As you live and strive to do so, be aware
of the trumped-up hell around you.
Look, listen, and know—but don’t you stop!
The fires of defeat are burning—don’t stop!
Gorgeous red haired beauty in the colorful peacock dress.
How dare you wear your shiny perky loveliness to my party.
You have trumped all of us.
Our frocks look dowdy and sad now.
We look like yesterday’s tissues.
I feel bland next to your bonfire orange hair.
I feel dowdy and ugly now.
Where did you get those earrings?
They dazzle my eyes out.
Who invited you?
I can barely eat my dinner, staring at you.
Wondering what your life is like.
You look confident, self-assured, and well-read.
I run from you all evening, not wanting to be compared.
I meet my mean sister-in-law’s eyes. Now I know who invited you.