Long Understandably Poems
Long Understandably Poems. Below are the most popular long Understandably by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Understandably poems by poem length and keyword.
Gangly longfellow thoreau and thru...
Well stocked with
wordsworth lx numbered yesteryear
born as predicted by
bubba's zayda longtime seer.
While in utero premier
ultrasound detected
smudged embryonic fetus
whoosh auditory proto language unclear
surprisingly enough sounded analogous
to murmuring... huh yepper sonneteer
vaguely resembling, yes
William Shakespeare
though burbling, gurgling,
requiring absolute zero noise to hear
kickstarting, reverently warbling
difficult, diligent, distinct yawping
nonetheless reckoned as dérailleur,
viz swiftly tailored
inchoate anatomical gear
hurriedly styled pièce de résistance
yours truly born with silver dictionary
in his mouth, I f¨ç°ˆ˜© swear
unusual biological phenomena
drew pediatricians far and near,
which (no surprise) determined
English major as academic career
matriculating upon immediately
exiting birth canal whip smart derriere
i.e. (ŧ§), spread like wildfire, where
media hounds blitzkrieg stunned to stare
not at me but bare
naked lady in no mood...ready to tear
away sophisticated audiovisual equipment
understandably on verge going nuclear
furious, (this told me later in life as here
say), she quickly (albeit groggy)
curtly demanded fair
remuneration, and milked
infant me as cash cow profiteer,
her eyes aglitter signaling,
shining, seeing... gold
let whoever sneer
earning money with initial gasp of air
freeing parents to live
within lap of luxury
world wide web sightseer,
yours truly received
royal carpet treatment everywhere
crisscrossing the globe
accoutered with most
expensive designer babywear
obliviously prattling, jabbering, gabbling...
invariably drawing throngs
across entire northern hemisphere
broadcast as podcast across atmosphere
all across the universe hoodwinking
convincing many of "FAKE" poetic story
concoction courtesy adept fictioneer.
An aliveness announcing angels,
Beyond beautiful bliss,
Clarifying clearly
Disastrously dynamic diminished-hexaverses,
Eagerly, enthusiastically
Finding fanatical futuristic free-verse
Gyrations guzzling
Haphazardly, happy haiku
Illustrating Images
Jubilantly jiving, juicy
Kindred kindness
Luxuriously languishing
Mystically, magically, memorably
Nimble notations
Opulently
Persuasively, poetically
Quirkily,
Relishing Rhymes.
Succulent, sassy, sensuous
Tangerine Tango-like tankas,
Understandably undecided
Vexingly verifying
Wonderful, wild,
‘xcitingly ‘xhibiting
zany, zealous, zestful Z.
October seventeenth ninety sixty one ...
Born sixty one years ago,
the follow poem from your bro
transmitted courtesy flagship
named Jacques-Yves Cousteau
constituting countless ones and zeroes
instantaneously traversing cyberspace
as packeted, framed dataflow
binary digits bit of information
to acknowledge when
thee transitioned being an embryo
(approximately the second
to eighth week after fertilization)
approximately nine months prior,
whose birth marked debut
of bouncing daddy's little girl,
whose inquisitiveness nourished
birthed perception buzzfeeding
capital one earthlinked baby
fostering, kickstarting, and
orchestrating cognitive aptitude,
who throughout storied existence,
which kudos ye
proudly promulgate to and fro
hither and yon across
social media platforms
understandably, opportunistically, and
humbly letting family and friends
across the webbed wide world
know amazing accomplishments,
when ye did initially grow
from being precocious genetic pedigree
into a whip smart self confident
globe trotter, whose curriculum vitae
dwarfs (by powers of seven)
feeble accomplishments of mine,
went thee invested with a heigh-ho
positive state of mind
every endeavor undertaken
(in one physically gruelling instance)
biking, hiking, riding
to your private Idaho
(fast as a B-52)
versus humdrum life of one common Joe,
whose heightened perception
aside from singing the praises
of admiration toward youngest sister
after countless years, he failed to know
about her trials and tribulations
exercising your potential to the maximum
invariably feeling dog tired
with a dose of lumbago
thrown in for good measure
nevertheless adept as bilingual person
quite helpful travelling
to Spanish speaking countries
during your roaring twenties off to Mexico,
and just recently taking a jaunt
to Portugal donned accruing
vibrant sense and sensibility
treasuring richly pocketing nouveau
memories attracting natural outgrow
of ardent followers, whether online
or in flesh, who clamor for selfie photo
with thee and steadfast husband
unlike henpecked wife of mine
enjoyable as pesky miss Quito
who pesters me to get off computer
so she can binge watch Netflix
hence adieu as I hop on my cubii
off to complete
another stationary roadshow.
Alligator alley always answers
Bringing bulbous batches of bubbles
Creatively and curiously cavorting
Deliberately denying and distorting
Elusive energy and enthusiasm
From freakish forwarding fanatics who foresee
Glorious globs of grotesque gossip
Hereon, hereto and herewith heralded
In illustrious illumination indicating ideas
Joyfully and joyously justifying
Kibitzing kindnesses of kith and kin
Labelling luxurious languages, lumping them as lovely.
Manifesting monstrous maniacal mystical miracles
Needing Nirvana and Never-never-land nuisances
Opposed to outrageous ornateness and ordinariness.
Persecuting prideful pompousness and prissiness.
Respectfully receiving responsible rectifiable residents
Such serious succulent sensuous senatorial secrets!
Truth touching tremendous thunderous tentacles
Understating understandably undeniable underlying unity
Verifying villainous vexing vindicators
Willfully wishing willy-nilly wispy ways will work wonders
‘Xpecting ‘xceptionally ‘xperimental ‘xperts
Yoking the young and youthful,
Zippy zealots showing zany zesty zealous ways.
Like A Fire Cat - Teaser Taste Of Spring...
Did Fistbump With Ole Man Winter
Once again, this fella alights
this poetaster and trots out weather,
nope not cuz freezing cold bites,
this poetic instance highlights
spate of unseasonably warm temperatures
circa early February 2019,
melting oppressive plights,
whereby totally tubular solar balm
energizes and alights
to zoom into heavenly heights
pleasantly zapping dendrites
with heaven sent
sunny rays, which excites
every fiber of this fella, writes,
a diametrically opposite
meteorological pleasure
pitch perfect to fly kites
versus torturous blast, sans
polar vortex arctic
cold one futilely fights,
where no complaint as
ecstasy knows no heights,
asper in above average winter
cathartically, holistically,
therapeutically... quiets
cabin fever with sneak
preview of summer -
skipping over stone temple rites
of spring despite dramatic
unseasonably warm weather
this anomaly nonetheless delights
this wordsmith voluntarily
holed up days and nights
from bone chilling, crushing brutal
(cudgel wielding) cold
understandably inducing flights
of fantasy imagining
(like...just yesterday)
hightailing to tropical
island paradise sights
blinds this sun worshipper
twittering revelling,
basking with robins
noah matter an old gipper
slakes insatiable thirsts
nsync with teetotaling
brewster herbalist honeydripper
ah... methinks this clime
makes me chipper
recalling good ole times
feeling like a day tripper
sprawled out atop roofed mansion
fronting happy hunting grounds
upon memory steadfast gripper
amidst haunting demesne
of "Glen Elm" transformed
courtesy where backhoes did stripper
of native flora and fauna
into ticky tack vinyl city for hipper
crats all in the name of progress!
How 'Bout Stoichiometry For A Conversational Hook?
Nary a clue exists about
the relationship between
relative quantities of substances
taking part in a clean
(non GMO contaminated)
gluten free reaction,
or forming a mean
compound, typically a ratio
of whole integers umpteen
place holders long proudly,
(albeit microscopically)
swaggering analogous
to a prideful
home coming queen
walking with her beau
appearing much older looking
than a latte (drinking) teen,
the third word up above, (affright
full looking, isle
lid lashing sorely,
trying, torquing, and
testing vision, i.e. eye sight),
where with insight
red left to right
across conventionally,
sans persons write
ting, and/or read
ding English, who might
live within neck of the woods,
how zing this knight,
where the whirled wide webbing
haint so bright
this smart aleck (comprised
fancy title), excite
ting immediate uptight
reaction came to "light"
just in the nick of time
to spur a sprite
lee chary reader to take
pro nouns hubble flight
(at what the ĵ** -
in reference quite
understandably to multi
syllable chemical airtight
romance masquerade),
this barred bard did write
unfamiliar word, which undoubtedly
triggered consternation,
and fierce urge to bite
and/ or sentence this "FAKE" cur,
who whiz unable to height
ten interest toward me senseless
poetics with supreme delight.
Just me and mine shadow doth blog
passivity, the path of least resistance oh my dog,
an emphatic YES,
a legitimately valid reason and rhyme to flog
yours truly (figurative emasculation),
thee catchword to hog
immediate attention,
see above named poem title
the best idea to expound upon,
while attempting creative juices to jog
all mein kampf, I felt like a bump on a log
please... don't be hesitant
to identify me as a nog
one aging long haired pencil neck geek
never reached maturity forever a pollywog.
More clearly, plainly and succinctly
one sniveling poor excuse for masculinity,
I continually experience
unrepentant (unforgivable) humility,
hence lame justification
Matthew Scott sought adultery,
which unwise choice attempted
(pun intended) to fill a void
sexual propensity linkedin with precepts
attributed to Sigmund Freud,
though skepticism skirts
barenaked lady hardcore psychoanalysis
downplayed or Oedipus complex
shrugged off (heavier imposition
versus Atlas) fails to bridge any mettle alloyed
within me psyche.
Absent healthy teenage
dating experiences, think tryst
I yearned, trended then
regretted handy dandy wrist
took rat tick antics subsequently,
and compromised spawning prurient dalliances,
hence understandably missed
(until death do me part)
doting upon then young daughters,
rightfully thee eldest one
(born 12/22/1996) still pissed
at primal, gonadal, and brutal predilections
now... finding very little reason to exist
matter of fact I dreamt
(earlier today June twenty seventh
two thousand and twenty), the gist
regarding harming self
Back in day (of ma
mum, and perhaps
since time immemorial)
utterances of physicians
nsync with Staff of Asclepius
pounded against floor,
(which wrought
life to entwined serpent,
whose beady
eyed hypnotic power)
understandably
ranked doctors among
near mythical powerful
Gods, who ought
best not be ignored, thus
(then a young Harriet Harris,
now long since deceased)
felt overbearing heft of
medical practitioners final words,
and subsequently would nought
refute, ignore, nor
dispute sacred commandment
hence would n'er be accused
of sacrilegious immodesty,
impiety, or impropriety
(towards medical institution),
and never doubt voice
most supreme in the universe,
thus she felt caught
against challenging authority
meekly surrendered
her only son, bought
with bargaining chip
indubitable faith
in omnipotent equip
ment with hocus
pocus magic to flip
precious life humming along,
or force death grip
upon a lovely boy (christened
Matthew Scott Harris),
at present lapsed beet hip
pea hooping to stave
off crossing the lip
of LX bracket, there
fore reckons a nip
and tuck (think
prefrontal lobotomy),
asper when just a pip
squeak ushered,
where mine existence
could be mortgaged
with accidental,
(or purposeful) slip
of the knife, while
under anesthetized trip
returning minus a mass of
enlarged lymphatic tissue
between the back of
the nose and the throat.
The Art of the Devilish Deal
By Mark D. Stucky
Did Trump sell his soul to the devil in 2016?
As his part of the deal, could he lie, preen, cheat, and tweet?
Could he distort, divide, deny, demean, demolish, and destroy?
Could he make even a pandemic worse through criminal negligence?
Is the devil in the details of the deal?
Trump was understandably loved by hate-spewing supremacists,
but why also by family-values evangelicals?
How could so many lose their minds…and still not regain them?
Were brains washed sudsy clean by social media and Fox News?
If Trump did make the sale, was it an artful deal?
Was he even still using his soul anyway?
Would the devil desire such a shriveled thing?
For a chance to destroy democracy,
wouldn’t Putin and Satan have worked pro bono?
Has anyone’s devilish deal
ever worked well long-term?
What will Trump ultimately do
when that bad soul loan comes due?
(See also my poems "The 2023rd Psalm," "Bathing with Bathsheba," "Antisocial Media," and "Tweeting the Truth in Love.")
(Image by andibreit on Pixabay.)
Once upon a threshold By David Kavanagh
* more is revealed standing upon the threshold ~ than trying to cross it* by poet
There are no answers except the obvious one
plain language, and earth goes round the sun
There are no problems, only that they occur:
random chance, denial, then existential blur
Search the abstract,
conspire in a dream
scoop one’s mind out,
(open up) and scream
There are some leftovers, evidence of a past
showing one basic truth, life’s not meant to last
What a mindless fate, and price to pay;
still, nature isn’t cruel, has no conscience per se
Beyond the cusp lies
a juggernaut of bricks;
Whatever put it there
stuck fast in the mix
And all the time wasted contemplating what if,
trying to see beyond oblivion’s cliff,
an afterlife is promised, or so some say;
They drip feed gore, while turning good blood away?
Fly up to heaven,
where in the hell?
It’s all purgatory,
down here as well
Gods have been made through mass production;
an AI one’s coding, under self-construction,
conceived by data, not natural evolution;
these cells in our hand, a personal contribution?
It’s nobody’s fault,
there is no blame;
we may have choice,
although none to claim
So disappointing, understandably so,
to find logic itself sets limits it can go
Yet here I stand on the threshold of knowing,
aware at last, there’s nowhere left for going
Content in myself
only when I am,
It’s all very real,
but also a sham.
By David Kavanagh
Copyright © David Kavanagh | Year Posted 2025
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