Long Wooed Poems

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


Premium Member Indices of a Loon

GOODLUCK 

Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Oozing pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes) 
On congruent grounds we let him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail, waiting substitute to end the reign of quack 
Lacklustre, insipid and a pervading naivety. 
Unvaried captain rocks this  boat, gagged by plunderers. 
Circles of death, twinge,  miseries the reign of a drab creek king
Kleptocracy adorning imposition,

EBELE 

Embezzlers on rampage, holes bequeathed for pillaging. 
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched  obtuse scamp 
Egregious craven shrieked at the sound of war “I am not a lion”.
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps 
Encumbrances from delinquent clan divide the love for mother land 

DAME

Damp squib's duchess & indecent tongue, devoid of restraint 
Audacious  domestic appendage ferrying funds  
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations, 
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
 
PATIENCE 

Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults. 
Adventurous nerve for futile globe -trot. 
Twitchy at state's affairs though never elected.
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity. 
Euphemistic drama, Scrappy curiosity with comedy. 
National dilemma by decorated buffoons.  
Crude verbiages to amuse eggheads “my Fellow widows” 
Encomium of  approval turned sour “Power” the pipe for thieves.


JONATHAN  


Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking ) 
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen 
Numbed as  "hoipolloi echoed NO to mistimed removal, 
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looting Criminals Lords over us 
Tyranny cloaked garbs, creek professor without a thesis. 
Higgledy-piggledy  a travesty called  democracy. 
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam, 
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured, while we die helpless
Form: Burlesque


At the City Zoo

a bell would ring
when it was time for food
it was a depressing chime for 
for a gorilla named old grey who 
lost his teeth and had to take all his food 
ground up sweet goo
one day the bell rang for the last time
old grey reached up and struck it and put it a mile
gave him a smile but
shook a tree next to the pole and
frightened owl out of his dark-hole 
a gull found the bell on a beach
while on his quest for food
owl had a flawless idea to 
find the bell and use it to fill his sweet tooth 
 owl flew to a lake and caught a huge fish
just before dawn
owl then
called out a free food song
 gull heard and carried his new found treasure 
 the bell along
he dropped the bell at owl’s feet
and began to eat
 owl put the bell in a claw
and set out to look for crow
crow couldn’t
take his eyes off the bell
that glistened
in the morning sun
 owl told crow he was to land
on the old oak by a bend
a bit passed the donut shop
on highway 44
along the lake shore
watch the big trucks go in
watch for when they come out
then fly as you fly
across the lake
where
 the road is twisty and
turns are tight
fly through the truck window
grab one sweet cake
the bell is yours to take
 off went crow across the lake
not the sharpest stick in the pile
remembered the oak and donut shop
after he went a lightening 3 miles
thought he was in luck
when he saw a truck
creeping along the turns
 crow’s mind on
in and out
one sweet bun
go home and mount his bell
 in and out went smooth as silk
but the sweet bun looked like false teeth
and he had individually wrapped
balloons stuck to his feet
owl who-wooed and woo-who’d until
he almost fell off his perch
but owl was a good sport
and traded the bell for teeth and balloons
owl flew back to his home in the city zoo
dropped the teeth to old grey
who
shared with his new friend owl
 his sweet goo
old grey grabbed some tasty flowers and leaves
with the new teeth in his mouth
 smiled as he chewed
the next day two ladies sat on a park bench in
front of that zoo
one lady chuckled to the other
that the grey gorilla's smile reminded her of
a trucker she once knew
© Dc Bursey  Create an image from this poem.
fun

Death of An American Salesman

On a Good Friday at 3PM
He was called into the office by
Pontius Pilate and told that he would be put to death.

He had waited for the execution and worked the full week after being
warned that he would be fired if his production and sales were not
up to snuff.

He was hired with four other wise men and women to
turn an upstart company around and save it from the greedy bankers.
He had hope in his heart because he left employment with another and thought it  
would be fruitful on the other side. 

Pontius Pilate had wooed him with big money and promised him the stars.
Just about everyone loved their products and it would be an easy sale like 
children pitching low-hanging fruit from a tree. 


But after one month Pontius Pilate changed her course and said that the 
Honeymoon was over. One among their ranks had told him that he was their hero 
and would emulate him and dress like him. But he knew that this female Judas 
would betray him when he dreamed that she would fall from his favor.

Judas was from the professional teaching world and she said that she was in adequate working in sales. She would call sales meeting to learn their motives and work late and holidays in the office while bending the ear of Pontius Pilate.

Pontius Pilate believed everything said to her because Judas was producing sales 
but stealing fruit from the others.  This did not matter to Pontius Pilate as her 
golden calf and state of affairs was being threatened by the Jesus lovers.

On the advice of Judas- Pontius Pilate set her plans into motion and publicly 
falsely accused the three wise men 
of being bad sales people and spoke of 
their elimination. They were accused three times on three separate days before
 3 PM. 

Like strange fruit he was called into the office by Pontius Pilate and her political 
advisor Menenius and duly told that this is not personal but he must die. The one
sacrificed did not have much to say but thanked them for the opportunity and 
that he will rise up in three days.


"I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.
© Mel Brake  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Ballad of Villonia Beebe, a Life In Three Parts: Part 2

The Middle Years

She'd been wooed by dukes and diplomats
From Nome to Nagasaki,
Kept by mobsters, bishops, bureaucrats,
And a movie mogul's lackey.
She'd been plied with jewels, a fancy car,
Designer gowns and furs
By lots and lots of husbands,
Not one of whom was hers.
For fifteen years she lived among the swank,
But at thirty she had nothing in the bank.

She pawned her diamonds, sold her gowns and her furs,
The car was repossessed 'cause just the payments were hers,
Got her picture in the tabloids with some slanders and slurs,
Villonia Beebe was no one's baby anymore.

She took to pandering and cruising in malls.
A john, a judge, would like to help her, but he hadn't the balls.
She learned it's hard to be a call girl when nobody calls,
Villonia Beebe was no one's baby anymore.

Two more years went by in bars and walking the streets.
She'd like to meet a handsome guy who's loaded and sweet,
So she could settle down and turn that trick into a treat,
And then she'd be somebody's baby once more.

At thirty-two she thought she should get out of "the life",
Go back home to Arkansas and be someone's wife.
She'd soon get back an accent you could cut with a knife
And become a real hillbilly once more.

The Toad Suck men were simple and quite easy to please,
Though the way they buzzed around her made their wives ill at ease.
Still, she made a decent living on her back and her knees,
Villonia Beebe'd come full circle for sure.

Then one night she met Homer, at a barn dance, of course,
A cute and awkward guy who said his nickname was "Horse".
One ride and she's not had one single day of remorse,
ViIllonia Beebe was someone's baby once more.

She sometimes contemplates her life,
When she takes the time to bother,
From beauty queen to trampoline,
From doll to moll to mother.
She doesn't miss the jewels or car at all,
And fur just makes her itch,
But if truth be told, a part of her
Sort of misses being rich.
But Villonia is content now with her lot,
Especially when her "Horse" is hot to trot.
Form: Ballad

You Never Do

You Never Do
You say that I am skinny but you give me nothing to eat.
You say that I am quiet but you don’t come and talk with me
You say that I need a friend but you leave me vulnerable in
The open guts of the enemies. You say that I am stink yet you
Give me no soap to wash my body. You say that I am working too hard 
But you send no one to help me. 

Here I am in the open space looking closely at the race, with noise around and a bunch of vagabond surround me with hearts packed with stones and a conscience unknown .Filthy hands and stirring the dish and their head beating on the concrete and washing the dirty dish. 

Hypothetical sound playing in the ground and they are walking around 
In long gown, with the religious pants dropping underneath their bottom
and hands sliding into their gowns  for a pocket that is not found
oh how I loathe this disposition. I watched the eyes looking up and down for a word that cannot be found and the crown with its punitive 
weight moving from side to side in the middle of the day.

You stand and watched the philistines descend upon me, you watched them hauled and pull me on the ground, you did nothing to help and then you say that you are heaven bound.Oh yes your heaven is up there
But my heaven is right here on earth. My heaven gives life and it comes with many years of sacrifice. You play the music loud to break my eardrums but I let the sound pass right through and filters in thin air.
Your mountain is getting low and you don’t have much further to go

You watched them  mocked me when the vagrants unpacked on me but my spirit drives them back to their destiny. They run like wolves down
the street erupting the cities heart beat. I am here and you are there
and I have nothing to fear. You cannot mix religion with business that is hypocrisy in the third degree and you will not get not one more penny from me. I cannot be wooed y some religious song,  and you will be hanged like every bad man and your accomplice will pay their dues with you and I want to tell you that you cannot do.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Indices of a Loon

GOODLUCK

Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll, 
Our feeble lord enforced by pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes) 
On congruent grounds of pain we forced him, though we hated his coterie. 
Disappointed, we wail waiting surrogate to lead to unending journey of relief
Lackluster, jejune as pervading rot lingers
Unvaried captain rocks our boat, gagged around by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, pauperdom and miseries mocks the reign of naivety.
Kleptocrat adorn self in regalia, loved the honor. lacks duty

EBELE

Embezzlers of collective trust bequeathed in hope, 
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched our obtuse scamp
Egregious, craven, shrieked at the sound of war (I am not a lion) 
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps 
Encumbrances from his delinquent clan divide the love for mother land

DAME

Damp squib's duchess of indecent tongue, never feels a vestige of restraint
Academic 'double misnomer' with licence to libel, 
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations, 
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their  amity. 

PATIENCE

Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults
Adventurous nerve for futile globe trot 
Twitchy at the affairs of state, though Unemployed by sensible Poll
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity
Euphemistic drama Usurps Scrappy literacy on cultured observers
Crude verbiages to amuse myriad of eggheads (my Fellow widows) 
Encomium of Yesterday's approval turned sour and Tsar inept mode prevails

Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking for 2015) 
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi" echoed NO to mistimed removal, 
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looted the poor to a blindfold
Tyrannic cloaked his garb in power busted on the streets with the troop 
Higgledy-piggledy bugled the travesty of Democracy
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured among a troop we die helpless

The Circus - a Tautogram

Amazing acrobats astound awe-stricken audiences.  Amy always asks about acts already arranged.

Bouncing bears balance beach balls.  Bobby Bear bicycled behind Betsy Bear.

Crazy clowns crash carelessly.  Carousels circle clockwise.

Daring demonstrations dazzle dazed dreamers.  Dopey donkeys dance diligently.

Elegant elephants elate everyone, eating everything enjoyable.  Eight elephants execute exciting entertainment.

Forty-five feisty flamethrowers fiercely fight fires.

Great Gambino gulps gigantic gems gingerly, giving gasping gazers giggles.  Genuine gigantic gorillas gaze goofily.

Hefty horses heave hefty hounds, howling harmoniously.  Heavyweights hurl hug hippos.  “Hasn’t hurt him,” Hugo Heavy huffed.

Iris indicated it’s impolite if I’m interested in inquiring into immersion into icing.

Joshua juggled joyfully.  Jeremiah just jumped jackasses.

Kissing kangaroos kiss kids kindly.  Karate kicking kids keep kicking.

Lions lounge lavishly leaving lookers laughing loudly.  Lollipop licking llamas licked Lional Lion lovingly.

Many men make mountainous merriment.  Mules march, munching Mayberries.

Nineteen nutty nags named Nancy nudge naysayers near nets.

Orange orangutans obey old-timers, opening obese objects.

Portly Peter Penguin parades past pretty Penny Penguin.  Penny paused, politely preening.  People purchase peanuts.

Quilting-bee queens quickly quiet quails.  Quarantined quibbling quackers quickly quiet.

Rabbits run rampant.  Robert requests refreshments.

Silly seals steamroll stalled stallions, snorting soundly.  Six stallions stomp successively, surrounding such silly seal.

Tumblers take to the trapeze.  Three tall tents tower, taller than two tightropes, two trapezes, three tumblers.

Ursula untied ugly umbrellas.

Vexed Venetians volleyed violently.

Wondrous wide-eyed watchers wooed weighted-down wagons.

X-rays x-hausted Xena

Youngsters yelled, yanks yelped.

Zany Zelda’s zebras zigzagged.
© Juli Freda  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Tautogram

She's My Choice and My Cross

SHE'S MY CHOICE AND MY CROSS. 

You told me beauty is merely skin deep
Wasn't that the reason I wooed her in the first place
Said it doesn't cook afang soup
I've not forgotten my way to mama put
You said she doesn't respect my mother 
Excuse me don't make that sound like murder 

Forget graduate Tinuke
I prefer beautiful unschooled  Amanda
Even though she can't prepare amala
You said she's not intelligent
She does what I like and she's so efficient
Who said she's not sound 
Have you heard her bedroom sound
She is not of classy source
But she's sassy and I dey enjoy her ponmo sauce

That she is mentally scanty is mere rumour
Even if she is, I enjoy the momentary humour 
Who even needs that educated feminist
I have had enough troubles with chemistry
She can't speak fluently in the crowd
You need to see her in bed so succulent and loud
If you say she's crude and lousy
Excuse me sister , crude oil get value pass kerosene

Say my wife no go school
But she sabi hold spoon
Asking who will help my kids with their assignment
How that one take be your concernment 
When we have kids we'll make arrangement
You dey tell me say I no get sense
Sister, you no dey see well go wear your contact lens 
You claim she's using juju on me 
But I'm enjoying the fufu she gives to me

You claim she's full of violence
You're wrong she doesn't just like pretence
Though she slapped me once in the open
It was because I burnt the food in the oven
That won't make our love to be broken
Now she's fat and won't hit the gym
It's OK Yoruba men don't like them slim
She's daft and can't stand a mental debate
Who even likes a wife that argues

If she ties wrapper round her chest 
She doesn't want men to covet
If she was born of parents of colourful poverty
I've acquired the asset and the liability
Right now she's my sole property
Say all you want about her
She's my choice and my cross

(FM CONCEPTUAL ???)
Form: ABC

Premium Member A Prince For Roseanne

A long long time ago there lived a king.
His lovely daughter he’d give anything.

She walked about, jewels dripping from each hand,
talking down to all, thinking she was grand.

There was but one thing missing from her life.
But not one prince desired her for his wife.

Her personality repulsed all men.
They’d meet her once, then not see her again.

Her father found for her one rich old king
but she preferred young, handsome and charming.

One day the perfect suitor came along.
This handsome man wooed Roseanne with a song.

How beautiful his voice! How sweet his face.
A man was he of talent and of grace.

The opposite of spoiled Roseanne was he.
The king arranged their wedding anxiously!

However, no one knew from whence he came.
Though very rich, this young prince had no fame.

How was it he could even stand Roseanne,
the princess from whom all the others ran?

He had so much. Why waste it all on her?
Despite good looks, Roseanne had no allure.

One thing he asked for. This is what he said:
“Inside my castle we must both be wed.”

The wedding guests felt great relief and bliss,
for Roseanne soon would get her first true kiss!

But unbeknownst to them, the handsome man
Roseanne was marrying had his own plan.

When he was young, a witch on him had cast
a spell! It would be broken now at last!

The ceremony started. Vows were said.
The prince then raised the veil from his wife’s head.

He softly kissed her lips. Then something weird!
The castle they all stood in disappeared.

The wedding guests waist-high in water stood.
The prince changed too, and he did not look good.

His voice so beautiful became a croak.
The king stood there about to have a stroke!

The splendid castle had become a bog;
The groom leaped happily – once more a frog!


Written March 5, 2017 
Entry for John Hamilton's the Best rhyming poem 3 Poetry Contest
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Trained Professional

After 63 years of smiling 
You might say I’m a professional 
I don’t know when I smiled for the first time
After all I was a baby for a while
My parents didn’t take many photos of me
I was the second child 
so I guess the novelty had worn off.

Sometimes a full toothed grin
Followed by uncontrollable laughter
Isn’t that the best?
When I was a kid my teeth were perfect
Thankfully they were straight and bright white
No need for braces (Thank God)
Because that would have taken a back seat
to the next case of beer or a bottle of five star liquor.

I come from a tradition of smilers
My grandpa was the best
A barber who could pour on the charm
He had one gold tooth and smoked a pipe
Quick with a joke and his 100 watt smile
The public loved him
We loved him
But he was cruel in his way
He ruined my dad
My dad almost ruined me

My dad was also a talented smiler
People wanted to be his friend 
He was only capable of pretend 
So we moved again and again
One step and two smiles later
A new place to move
That was the trend

So I learned my own smile
Got good at it
so I could make friends
Always the new kid
Sad kid
Laughing kid
Trying to escape for a minute or two
If you’d seen that 75 watt smile
You might have believed it was true

Now don’t be sad for me
My smile helped me make a living
It brought people into my life
It helped me make life long friends 
It wooed the love of my life
It became real
(Fake it till you make it)

So now I have plenty of reasons to smile
My teeth aren’t as white as they once were
I do have a lot more reasons to smile
I’m loved
I’m content
I’m happy
To avoid conflict I can still at times hide behind my smile
( I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing)
After all I am a professional smiler
I have 63 years of experience under my lips.

Written for Karen Jone’s contest about smiling even though I’m too late to enter.
Form: Narrative

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