Long Upending Poems
Long Upending Poems. Below are the most popular long Upending by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Upending poems by poem length and keyword.
This generic creek king mortal mwm
(who generally river ears the bay sea gully feels ire ate
asper propensity plundering positive human qualities
tested to the max), bait
ting virtue with rapacious opprobrious
malicious lugubriousness, and hatred create
head via the violent wickedness yawping zealously
oceans of tears that in un date
every nook and cranny of society, wrenching,
whip-sawing, and hammering extirpate
ting, the delicate nuances that anthropological fate
bequeathed to *****sapiens
species and genus undermining great
ness brought forth by artistic, democratic,
and graphic accomplishments with HATE
diluting the virtuous unification treatises
agonizingly tried to insulate
basic rights, whence erosion, corrosion,
and abrasion with goliath gangrenous monstrosities of late
subtract at frightful pace, the very survival of mankind and doth mate
absolute evil that percolates into the body electric,
where bloody fiendish genies prosper upending immunity
fostering broods that deign devious strategies in Nate
to destroy any salient sliver via BuzzFeed ding fifty shades of a gray pate
outwitting tentative grasp upon survival
barely fending off lashing off faux kings who e quate
might with right, and bring out the big guns
which blitzkrieg magazines fire at greased lightening speed rate
this battle whereby competing credos, ethos,
and grand Poobah grinds by force state
mints that all most obey lest Das Capital life will not tolerate
nasty, short and brutish torture engendering wailing ululate
diminish in a vain attempt to escape the maws of madness
where the grim reaper doth patiently wait.
Mr Later arrived for his interview,
for the position of Time Manager.
"Good morning. I'm Mr Later," he smiled.
"I'm here to improve your schedule."
"Though, judging by your diary...
I suspect we've met before."
His Business Card read:
Manager of Pending Affairs
CEO of Not Yet, But Maybe!
Director of Priority Re-ordering
Minister for Best Intentions
Chief Executive of Almost Enough
Commissioner of Convenient Excuses
Chairman of Noble Intentions
Custodian of Someday
His Specialties included:
Priority laundering.
Pending upending.
Bucket-list polishing.
Deadline cushioning.
Urgency Dilution.
Calendar decompression
Hope rescheduling
Momentum evaporation.
His Motto Section read:
"Do it when you've got more time."
"Tomorrow has reserved you a front-row seat."
"Don't spend tomorrow using up today.
"You'll appreciate it much more... later."
"The hills ain't going anywhere."
"There'll always be another sunset."
"We upend pendings, extending your endings."
"We'll keep your bucket list beneath your shopping list."
"Every conundrum sounds humdrum on a bongo drum."
"Later is always the perfect time... trust me."
Before the interview was halfway through,
Mr Later stood up.
"Sorry," he smiled.
"I'm running a little....later than expected."
"I'm late! I'm late!"
"I have another appointment."
"Can we finish this..."
"...later?"
Then, turning at the door,
The interviewer smiled:
"See you Later?"
Mr Later smiled:
"Everyone does!"
A Distant Shore
Beached upon a distant shore I wondered about my life
Beseeched by solitude all I could pour out was sadness & strife
I reached for something in the distance that looked like it was a knife
It taught me to be indifferent as I knew my thoughts were running rife
Extending out with a notion leading my mind toward the dawn
Pretending that without devotion things are soon to be forewarned
Defending all of the commotion as my spirit lays there torn
Upending my torrents of emotion as I pray to be reborn
Pertinent proclivities that can’t hold onto prevention
Militant sensibilities that keep you a candidate for detention
Indeterminate absurdities that seek creativity for invention
Recalcitrant eligibility’s that defy the next mass organised convention
Incantations of a prophecy that came true far too soon
Lamentation of Sophocles by the light of the full moon
Emanations of soliloquies that are about espoused around high noon
Invitations of proclivity that contrive while I turn up the latest tune
Observations of vibrant conversations while I go without vocalisation
Sensations of reserved consternations bring about the elevation
Emulations of salivation over something close to revelation
Colourations of computations that lead me toward general devastation
The End Elizabeth Moroz copyright
Purim Theorem!
Rambam holds Hashem is math,
Hashem does not take a path,
Like “Squaring the Circle”,
Such is illogical,
Yet the Zohar differs on Hashem’s craft!
Witness the Aron anomaly,
Giving rise to a homily,
Finite length & width yet zero volume,
Boggling the mind, yielding it solemn,
Evoking Emunah more than normally!
Size yet no volume?
Anomaly! as in Shalom,
Moshe saw that the “Burning Bush”,
Was unconsumed, he didn’t silence: Hush!,
Risking ridicule, courage to be alone!
Moshe saw water & fire combine,
Hashem’s Shalom nonintuitively align,
Illogic surprise from mire,
Despair be gone! Lost? A Divine sign!
Purim, 339 Before Common Era,
Hashem again was a true “Chevra”,
Upending Haman’s goose,
In a long necked noose,
Saving the Yidden from an evil schema!
Arrogance vanquished,
Anomaly? Yes by logic languished,
Expect the unsuspected,
Human reason dissected,
Headstand of man anguished!
“Shemayim’s” Burning Bush is a hymn,
Let the “Olam” Hear Him,
Again no novelty,
“Chiddush” renewal, an end to “Evilty!”
All Adds Up to Purim Theorem!
No way to dodge fiat decreeing death sentence
for this rambling man
cheesy alias con commit tented mouse élan
Who felt unready to kick the can
On account of violating ban
Against abominable illegal mandate
With no way to commute death sentence
For the simple act of voicing opinion
against exist of heavenly gate
Of hellish underworld
despite religious opiate decreeing penance
Spurious pedagogical poetic rant
dialed up x telephonic times
Not the ravings of some half mad lunatic
Carefully plotted recitation
that springs from combined teachings of Kant
And jolly old Saint Nick
Charges trumped up per this average trump petting don
Purportedly blaspheming judeo-christian paradigm
Upending blind faith equated with hill of beans upon
Which dogma erected epitomized
by complex edifices via grime
Sweat and tears from slave labor
where usurpation of freedom won
Until outspoken spokes persons risked life and limb
To invalidate the existence
of supreme deity who created life
Whether for extra credit or perhaps on a whim
Adam from whose rib cage
without anesthesia but razor sharp knife
Sported eve with a physique quite pleasing and trim
But rather than get lost in the Garden of Eden myth
Final seconds of existence tick away
Without intent to recant statements
?
solely acceptable to b’ni brith
Prompting last words of mine as oye vay
With no regrets - deeming heart of religion flimsy as pith
Thing in the wind or house of cards
vulnerable to blow away!
Space guru Oh Saint, inspire my muse, with feelings inexplicable
With lush—blush poetry that I’ll take with me to the ending,
with lovers in mind, be warned of the tragic end-kind
Amber hearts, have awoken! Our Love Saint’s tears
streaking down his face, tears of justification,
suspendings of bitter-sweet’s romance,
upending, frozen in time, their souls.
Space eternity, mirthful keepsake,
snow-kissed blush forevermore.
May winters sun shine upon,
gleam they might their
crimson veins
throbbing.
•°•°•°•°•
°•°•°•°
°
Rid Mother Earth’s
pining pains—love’s tragedy.
Madly in love He’d chosen Her, Dawn,
and to beautify her more, Venus consents
Ruby lips, sultry hips, cherry polished fingertips.
Sadly Kai, His light within should dim. Emaciated,
Her unkempt tassels and darkened eye circles listless.
She’d follow Him in nihilistic abandon. Death brings two
to shed their mortal coils, spirits unbound may be alas entwined.
Her sweet taste belonging to Him shall never sour upon his tongue.
His poetry ‘ll never unwhisper in Her waitful ears, Kai & Dawn-immortals
Both amber hearts in starry, starry space, glow gracefully as eternal Valentines
Valentine's Day
2/14/26
A Distant Shore
Beached upon a distant shore I wondered about my life
Beseeched by solitude all I could pour out was sadness & strife
I reached for something in the distance that looked like it was a knife
It teached me to be indifferent as I knew my thoughts were running rife
Extending out with a notion leading my mind toward the dawn
Pretending that without devotion things are soon to be forewarned
Defending all of the commotion as my spirit lays there torn
Upending my torrents of emotion as I pray to be reborn
Pertinent proclivities that can’t hold onto prevention
Militant sensibilities that keep you a candidate for detention
Indeterminate absurdities that seek creativity for invention
Recalcitrant eligibility’s that defy the next mass organised convention
Incantations of a prophecy that came true far too soon
Lamentation of Sophocles by the light of the full moon
Emanations of soliloquies that are about espoused around high noon
Invitations of proclivity that contrive while I turn up the latest tune
Observations of vibrant conversations while I go without vocalisation
Sensations of reserved consternations bring about the elevation
Emulations of salivation over something close to revelation
Colourations of computations that lead me toward general devastation
The End Elizabeth Moroz copyright
Antiestablishmentarian inherent malevolent violence
wracks human species, a most brutish and nasty beast.
An embittered nihilistic teenager
grown haggard and old,
hence not surprisingly yours truly
crafts pseudo dystopian reasonable rhyme.
An evangelized atheistic adherent,
I aver evolutionary theory
posits prelapsarian Eden
of astonishing plentitude
gone to hell in a handbasket.
Ever since human species stood erect
exhibiting prehensile appendages did allow
cupped fingers upon brow,
whereat vista unveiled to succor chow.
Dawn of consciousness begat
superstitious vagaries daunting
present day Democrat
and/or Republican to issue fiat
denouncing extremist militant uprising
raging across Capitol Hill habitat.
2021 presidential inauguration
today January twentieth
(broadcast right now)
augurs horrific repeat January sixth,
when bedlam and mayhem
rocked Washington District of Columbia,
where hoodlums ran amuck lionizing violence.
Lawlessness bled constitution white
marauding bands of hooligans
bombarded, desecrated, fueled,
harmed, jackknifed, leveled, nailed,
pummeled, rioted, terrorized, vandalized...
with glee and spite
yielded windfall regarding
headline grabbing newsnight
motley film crews recorded
gangsters scaling storied height
(cue spiderman/woman)
think rescuers quick
as greased lightning they did alight.
If only real and/or
fictional life action heroes/heroines
came to the rescue
to avenge forces of evil,
where virtue dispensed,
and trumpeted courtesy better angels.
Meanwhile indefatigable defenders
of human rights
dole out just desserts
upon the heads
of self styled lawless brigands
militaristic thugs hell bent
to wreak havoc
upon cradle of liberty
including complex edifices
linkedin and embody
blood, sweat and tears
of freedom fighters
arrayed against merciless
demonic forces upending
foundation upholding enshrined
nearly divinely inspired principles
quantum leaps since
early man/woman trod
across terrestrial firmament.
I experienced exhilaration
upon witnessing confirmation
genuflection, liberation, restitution
espoused by Joseph Robinette Biden Jr.
forty sixth president of United States.
Night and day, a thrashing
like an invisible whiptail
surge van hail,
doth swell me bosom
excruciatingly, doggedly blackmail
capriciously be-numbingly,
aggravatingly assail
mine conscience in
what paltry pale
capacity of this gamboling male,
I can "pay forward,"
whatever means shale
be moost apropos avail
to offset bewail
ling (internal psyche doth ale
hankering) against utter
lifetime (mine) peppered
with emotional, physical
and social destitution
bereft, viz fail
ling to maximize inspiration
reverberating as vibrant detail
lacking even justa minimum
desire to live
(visa vis no way
discover ring, nope nar even
"FAKE" king minuscule appeasement
of my body, mind,
and spirit triage during)
hell...shove (shelve) aside
such gloriously noble benighted role,
amidst upending folktale
re: King Arthur and His Knights
of the Round Table
futilely searching for holy grail
where steadfast conviction
emboldens this heart and hale
spirited mindful,
sincere hard drive spurs
(neigh saying horse
sense of mine)
where ambition saddled
to air (dan sing) quailing,
yen propelling (yours truly),
with sincere humanitarian,
(i.e. blood driven)
philanthropic spiritual zeal,
I tried to unveil,
this reasonably rhyming thumbnail
sketch poetically versatile
within this spurious verse despite
any trials undermining travail
rather mine heart felt genuine
motive fueled by impetus
to contribute within e kale
logi, fizzy hollow gee, humanity,
with integrity, magnanimity,
and quality fervency,
while still adept, adroit,
agile, and alert,
(cuz America needs more lerts
to become great again)
ironically steel tougher than nails,
duh pleating ability dovetail
to bug (or wug) gee wholesale.
poetically, and zealously
oozing, gushing, bubbling over
with faux snobbish suave re:
pulse sieve literary fatuous
haughtiness, and ludicrous narcissistic pre
ning all the while chuckling to me
self, and indifferent if
some anonymous browser
with Dutchman's breeches rolled up
upon cresting wave over Zyder Zee
disparages mine harmless
badinage, hence if ye
might qualify as such nitpicker,
who doth cavill - dee
crying wading thru
quagmire of verbiage,
a gentle reply to thee
might be more wise to turn energy
toward, how in many another country
the village people haint so free
spouting, sporting, and spoiling,
vis a vis intellectual sparring
(albeit innocent) black
barbs hatch chee
ving, and raising urgent
attention against he
(who whiz squelching
constitutional rights) re:
pressing, rescinding, reviling,
et cetera access toward key
underpinnings within these fifty
constituent United States
of America beckon alacrity
for obliging citizens across
all points of the compass to alee
v8 his indiscriminate flee
sing, sans bedrock nation could tee
tear on the brink of calamity,
which political plug quite inadequate
to staunch hemorrhaging, viz upending
many a sacred liberty,
and foo to you reprimanding
against any agree
gee us objection to pen about polly lee
ticks and/or religion!