We were in an embroilment, he said
This weird word lingered all night in my head
The next day I spent time in the dictionary.
I blame my pompous, wordy brother, Larry.
Why couldn’t he have used the word argument instead?
Always putting on airs in front of our cousin, Ned.
GHOST, RIVER, SHIVER, MASTICATE, COLD, POMPOUS
The cold wind swirled the mist all along the bank,
The ferryman held onto the boat, whilst the gentleman walked across the narrow plank,
The man looked quite pompous as he chewed upon his pipe,
He was large and looked like a cow masticating on fresh grass, I hope the man doesn’t develop the gripe,
Then as they pulled out into the river,
And the gentleman gave one tremendous shiver,
The ferryman pulled the oars as he rowed across the stream,
But this trip is not exactly as it seems,
The question is, ‘Who paid the ferryman?’ and the gentleman can’t boast,
Because after all he was only a harmless ghost.
Pepper the pink and red poodle with her nose in the air
Walked down the runway without a concern or care
She knew the peons were watching her swag
But barely gave them even the hint of a wag
These dogs are beneath me, I am the great one, she thought
Pepper the Perfect did what she needed, did what she ought
She marched down that runway in an elegant way.
Not caring about the mongrels who were watching that day
Her reds and her pinks were made by famous fashion designer Glee.
He only designed for a few actresses and film stars as important as she.
Pepper had given him his start, and she did this as a favor to him.
He had asked her to smile, but that would have cost extra with vim.
The lightly fizzing mood
I've felt all day
and fenced within a grin
is at odds
with the stoppered
solemnity of this pompous
ceremony I've had to attend
and is becoming harder
to hold, slowly pressurizing
to a giggle and then a laugh,
the pending pop held back
only by a quarter turn
of my thinning top.
Another word
or two will see me break
into laughter, impossible
to contain behind
the pretense of a dour
demeanor and a veneered
look of pain.
O Crap ! - I'm now past hope,
the silly man with a funny hat
is getting up to speak again
and I can't hold it any tighter,
I always have the same problem,
be it with a clown, a politician
or a bishop with a mitre.
Pepper the pink and red poodle with her nose in the air
Walked down the runway without a concern or care
She knew the peons were watching her swag
But barely gave them even the hint of a wag
These dogs are beneath me, I am the great one, she thought
Pepper the Perfect did what she needed, did what she ought
She marched down that runway in an elegant way.
Not caring about the mongrels who were watching that day
Her reds and her pinks were made by famous fashion designer Glee.
He only designed for a few actresses and film stars as important as she.
Pepper had given him his start, and she did this as a favor to him.
He had asked her to smile, but that would have cost extra with vim.
Wobble chops in 99, was driving cars and doing fine'
He'd was in 'top gear' where his sweaters looked drear
On a roll, he was always really; ready to talk and stroll
Smugness poured out of him, he may be deaf from his own din
Also discontent I saw' he changed loyaltys as a revolving door
Rover built the 75, it was easy on the eye, orders just began to fly
A solid build the people liked, time for old wobble chops to strike.!
Its like a doctors car he groaned, him all grimace and stone dead tone
Causing orders to dry up quick, bashing British Jeremy thick.'
Clarkson you should have been banned' pushing rover into quicksand
Causing so many jobs to die, pompous twit are you satisfied.?
Mr Pompous Frog you make enough noise all right.
Your fog horn voice is loud and hoarse, a marvelous plight.
I can hardly see you even with my night flashlight
You are so darling and daring with your throat so white.
The evening is clear, so your croaking has a bite.
You are my hero, Mr. Pompous Frog, you are a knight!
I wish your song’s tempo someone could write.
Your melody is a big deal in the early starlight.
Your history I would truly love to recite
I see it and I think that I might….
Give you a toss and a turn so big and bright.
Seeing you fly through the air would be a sight!
He was the most puffed up keeper of the meadow they had ever had.
They had nominated him for a joke, he was an arrogant, pompous cad.
He thought it was real, and ran for mayor and governor too.
We called him High Horse Harry, the goose who always wore blue.
He had a fine top hat with a ribbon round its band.
He wore an azure blue vest that was the talk of the land.
The deer were the only animals who thought Harry was real.
The rest of us poked fun of him, for he was a boastful heel.
The rest of the state did not realize this was a joke.
They actually voted for Harry, and elected the bloke.
Mayor H. is now more arrogant than ever, with a pocket watch too.
On his way to becoming governor, wearing his pompous prissy blue.
If the sin of pride is my condign curse;
then I own it, and I can do no worse.
If the world disdains me, not saying why;
then I can stand it, though I want to die.
Outcast for good, alone for evermore,
as souls recoil, ne'er to enter my door.
Because of pride, I'm kept from the Lord's light;
lost, I curse Heaven with all of my might!
(Too bad if some don't recognize my genius;
but know, great souls believe in their greatness.
So spite this world if I'm damned any longer,
for the burden of brilliance makes me stronger!)
I'm saving for the least important things
and haven't got a clue
While living for the things more shallow
and hoping to find new
I've taken more vacations now
than any point of view
and haven't got an inkling
as to how I'm going to do
I question why so many fight
for what is best for you
When peace means leaving things alone
will never be at due
I travel round the world cause
to help the kangaroo
Ignoring all the people drunk
I party with for two
I take myself as loyal
for the people nice to coo
And wonder what I'd do without
their love to keep me mew
I only hope the day will come
when everyone has fun
And worry that my life's run down
when others spoil my run
I hope and pray like all the rest
that never seem to end
That I one day will stop and say
exaustion's never lend
So, I heard you don’t like my poetry style
Well, I don’t give a toss
It’s water off a turtle’s tush…
(Forget the duck cos it's too cliché')
Who are you to judge what’s right or wrong?
You take pride in pointing out other's mistakes
with your mealy mouthed sarcastic comments
Those little digs you like to shovel
droning on about proper meter and form.
Well buster, I'm gonna shout it out
so get this straight cos I'm making it clear.
You may think you are the next poet laureate
But I'm going to tell you the truth...
You’re a self-righteous bore
whose opinionated ramblings are just a rant
by someone who thinks they can write
but quite honestly... can't!
Opinion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumman
06/25/20
Her mother should….
His dad should….
Those parents should….
She was full of advice
Old lady on the hill.
Unwavering pumiceous ideas oozed out of her
Her pores were full of ideas for the rest of us
Savagely spoken and with
Great authority she told us all how to behave
And how to rear or children
What clothes we had a right to wear
What books we should avoid
She had never held a job or met a man
She did not have girlfriends. Perhaps they had run away?
I was completely amazed at her overzealous self-confidence
She was bossy and arrogant.
Knowing how we should all live our lives
Odd from a woman who had never lived
But the town was used to her
This odd woman who had lived with her long-suffering parents
until they died to get away from her.
The coroner had written “died to get away from their daughter”
on each of their death certificates.
You are afraid you are too sensitive? Let me laugh.
First you would have to have feelings, Mr. Always Me Path.
Next you would have to care about another human being.
You are all about yourself, which is what I am always seeing.
Too sensitive? Are you kidding? It's a gag. It's a joke.
I have never in my life met a more "me-and-more-me" bloke.
Too sensitive? Who told you that, your sainted mother?
I know it was not your sister or your intelligent brother.
Your family and I laugh at your pompousness behind your back.
The amount of confidence you have is so clearly out of whack.
Your arrogance proceeds you, your selfishness a bore.
You are a blowhard pure and simple. Do you want to hear more?
“Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis “ the medical term for lung disease caused by quartz dust is more than an absolute necessity to add to pompous poetry, it’s a must
Strengths on the other hand is a word that has only nine letters with all but one being a consonant
So tsktsk me to show your disapproval of my pompous poetry rant
½ cup sass
1 tbsp eye roll
2 cups suprirotive
1 cup white privilege
½ tsp rudeness
1 brand new car, softened
5 oz brand name clothing
A dash of allof, to taste
Add all ingredients together, while whisking in misinformed news media. Mix thoroughly for pretentious.
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