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Best Duck Soup Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Duck Soup poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of duck soup poems written by PoetrySoup members

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The Best Duck Soup Poems

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For this Turk Turku is a 1-horse
city but he has got to have horse
sense. He will not be as happy as a peacock in Turkey.
Hindi, the Turk word for turkey, is how we'll call this turkey.
Hindi, when living in Turkey, was a horse
dealer. Today he's no longer into horse
trading. He quit selling that drug. One morning
when he got up all his belongings were gone
He was shocked & almost started mourning
over this theft like a baby. His gun

gone too. Instead of going bananas
he sat down & thought: "That a lot of my country fellas have a monkey
on their backs is my bad! I won't cry over my pilfered pelf! No more monkey
business! From now on I decide to be a good egg!
I'm starting a new life! Today I cease being a yegg"
The Turk turkey put all his eggs
in one basket & wended his way to Turku!

He got a job in a Turkish bath as a front desk clerk. One noon he met a not
pigheaded porky from Alaska who told him had quit smoking blunt cold turkey
of late & was quite itching to relapse. Hindi didn't want to be a cold turkey
nowadays so he gave him advice on withdrawal. He jotted down some
notes for the porcupine to read & apply & didn't ask, at all, a sum
of money in exchange for the nice advice. The porky thanked him a lot & got
inside the bath. Finn tongue was Greek to Hindi
Whenever he had a chance, took a gander at

the phrasebook to learn Finnish.
At 5 pm he was glad to finish
his shift get the puck
out of that place
go home have duck
soup & plaice.
He wanted to invite the hake for supper. The latter
refused, didn't want to feel like a fish out of water.
Hindi, quite offended, told him off but it was like water
off a duck's back. He didn't want dinner alone, so
he thought who else could come. Bingo! The sow!
And she did. He did indeed bring home the bacon.
The food was very simple to prepare. It was duck
soup. He was cocksure the sow would love duck
soup & plaice. For dessert, a piece of cake
they'd have. Cooking all this was a piece of cake
without doubt. When nosh was ready, the sow
brooded over & said: "Wait a sec. This is so
weird. You invited the hake, a fish, to eat plaice.
You're eating duck & you're a turkey. In place
of eating explain. Are you a cannibal?" "Clam
up & pig out!" he said, not happy as a clam.

"O In a pig's eye I will! You are such a cold fish!
Horsefeathers! Besides, I am no longer hungry!
I've never seen anything like this in Hungary!"

"I eat duck soup and, if I want to, I cook my goose!"

The sow, horrified, at once did for sure vamoose.

Copyright © Ivo Cosentino | Year Posted 2014

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Hail, Hail, Freedonia

Here’s a story of a nation called Freedonia
It has a neighboring country known as Sylvania
Freedonia’s richest woman is Mrs. Teasdale.
The country is bankrupt, and without her help will fail.
New government has been in place, but to no avail.
She then calls for the president’s prompt resignation.
This rich woman wants someone else in this position.
She insists on installing Rufus T. Firefly
Mrs. Teasdale sees in this man someone to rely
on in Freedonia’s awful moment of despair.
However, Firefly makes things worse off everywhere.

While Mrs. Teasdale is being wooed by Firefly,
Ambassador Trentino also gives her a try.
He hopes that his country can control Freedonia
if he marries her, and takes her back to Sylvania.
This Trentino plants a spy known as Chicolini
He is followed by a silent spy who’s called Pinky.
Together, they try to get vital information
on Firefly, and his inept administration.
What happens next is a funny abomination.
Before you know it, there is war between each nation.

So how do the Freedonians secure a victory?
All I have to say is: "Just watch the movie".

Based on the Marx Brothers 1933 movie "Duck Soup"

Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2010

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Debbie's duck Goosie

                                Debbie's duck Goosie blew the coop
                                   Went to Gruk got into a coupe
                                         She fell on Mo Jerry
                                       Who managed to marry
                                 An ugly duckling - real duck soup

Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2015

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Pelican 20-20

Pelican 20-20 The Pelican stood an cursed awhile, The air was like duck soup, He'd been forced to walk 4 thirty miles, His flapping got him poop, The pollys here still deny, There is no climate change, Lock him up ol johnson, why? His mutterings are strange, The airports closed, no planes you knows, The airs unfit to try? Jumbo's gone, chicken barns, the go, And sultry Pelicans caint fly. Don JOhnson

Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2014

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Its a great feel to quit job than shirk
If we have a better offer in hand
Its wise to be loyal to our work
Rather than to boss or brand

I do agree it pinches to resign if we had around
Our colleagues who really made great friends
Reports ,meetings, coffee - always they surround
Who spread joy and inspire till the project ends

Challenges construe that life is not always a duck soup
We ought to handle obligations and commitments
Better to say bye bye than stick to a vicious loop
Move on and get ready for the better new experiments!


Copyright © Anulaxmi Nayak | Year Posted 2016

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I was a good duck at one time

I was a good duck at one time

here i was 
at one time 
a duck in the wind
up in the open blue 
searching for blue
this was back in October
freely i was flapping my wings
to my own music
when my eyes 
came upon a pond
a nice beautiful blue pond of other ducks
surrounded by a tall forest of trees
yes, yes
i was in heaven
here i was so happy 
i was going to find my soul mate
stretch my wings, nest
have ducklings
have a quack in my voice
for once ...
i then swim up
to the most beautiful duck in the pond
she's dead to the world to me
i like that, i like that
no risks no rewards
i swim up closer
she keeps floating away
I catch up, I catch up
I gave her a nudge
it felt good
but not real
and then my inner alarm bells went off
my heart drops
at the decoy, the ruse
the wooden ducks in the blue pond
i'm dead
i'm duck soup
i can imagine hearing a shotgun blast
i can live with that, 
that's life
i then imagine a women's voice 
a familiar voice, i thought
no, please
i can't live with this
its her ... the one from the past
welcome to poetry soup instead ...  she says
... yes, please
my heart ache,
my heart aches, now

connie pachecho



Copyright © connie pachecho | Year Posted 2017

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Dialog with a True Friend

         Another year
           Of too much beer;
         When will my head
           Ever be clear? 
         So, what's your solution?
           Another resolution?
         You've tried that before
           The result's dissolution.

         Joining a support group?
           You think that's duck soup?
         Nah. It's endless confession;
           You'd feel like a snoop.

         Taking up a new hobby?
            To shake yourself up?
          Sorry. No way. Not after
            Your last relationship broke up.

          Out of suggestions?
             That begs this key question:
           How long can you afford
             To keep falling off the wagon?

          Well, in the way of a reply,
            Allow me to say:
          What just might do some good
            Is to fix my 'true friend's' attitude!

Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2018

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From Betty Boop to Poetry Soup

In '29 -- Betty Boop 
 In '34 -- Marx Bros. 'Duck Soup'  
  In '39 -- Benny Goodman's Jazz Group
   In '49 -- Chevrolet Hardtop Coupe
    In '59 -- the Hula Hoop 
     In '69 -- Joplin, Hendrix, and Woodstock's musical groups
      In '79 -- psychological encounter groups
       In '89 -- Jordan, Magic & Larry, and NBA hoops
        In '99 -- Chicago's Loop
         In 2009 -- tea party splinter groups
          In two-oh-one-nine -- Will it be Poetry soup? 


Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2018

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Quantum Duck Soup

                                         Quantum Duck Soup

On a quest not unlike the hunting of the Snark,
The physicist seeks his elusive quarks,
Those delectable nothings that come in fine flavors,
Dancing through the void like colored party favors.
Their elusive forms leave him vaguely annoyed,
Their lack of substance teasing his mind
With hints of possible future sustenence
Though the harder he looks, the less he shall find.
At last he settles for confining them to books,
Their invisible bodies hung up on invisible hooks.

Strangeness, Beauty, Charm and Truth -
These the four gifts of Spacetime's youth.
What a pity such flavors may never be tasted,
Save by such minds as are themselves roasted and basted
In the merciless ovens of Pure Mathematics,
Where Theorums be bred by eccentric fanatics.

Up, Down, Bottom and Top -
The merry quarks spin on, and never stop.
The bones and brains of their living hosts
Move ever forward, impelled by flavored ghosts.

Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2018