Long Barf Poems
Long Barf Poems. Below are the most popular long Barf by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Barf poems by poem length and keyword.
“Truth isn’t truth,”
that’s what some Cap’n Obvious toady recently said
He was pissy mad, when his angry tears wet the bed
Lieutenant Rudy Brown-Nose
a has-been sniffing the swine caboose breeze:
Loco breath wafting
between sulfuric methane, prune puckered lips —
sphincter pie holes half-closed
Politrician power tools pocket plugged into their patsy roles,
says with dark chaos authority: Everything is under control
Public trust pirates,
dressed in
populist parrot disguise,
love $inging tavern song$
Foaming out the frothy, dark-amber lager lies
Iscariot getaway chariots
be karaoke squealing yellow snow —
highway robbery melodies
Money green
dollar rain
golden showers
On silver cloud vapor piles,
sticky six-finger flies
be spitting out
buzz-kill dung beetle cries
Butt of the jokes be the wench reward
for the stumbling,
power-drunk whores
Wet froggy kisses
scraping the sky
for a few rubles more
$ee the neon $ign $potlight in the $ky,
it’s showing some Two-Face, penny-wise liar
(Riddling?)
Ritalin up the final justice score
Bat-crazy, Commish slum lord
got the Lewd tenant
boot-licking
filthy lucre crumbs on the floor
Dog whistles got the railroad cage bent ...
Wall Street woofers on a barf paid, carny bark yell
Every foul commodity bowel movement
do slug leave a regurgitated profit stench vomit trail
While the vote suckers are on the slow buy,
their Good Ship Lollipop is on a quick sell
“Truth isn’t truth,”
is what some Cap’n Crunch croaker just said
That’s a mouth full of self-serving, apron purse ties
Sweet Georgia boo pecan pie is tasty cow pucky lies
Go on ... take another covetous slice,
and a couple more burglar bites
Wet froggy kisses
scraping the sea below
for a few dollars mo’
Spitballing Prince of Tides
love muddying the waters so
Sold old truths as new lies
“Truth is truth,”
ain’t what some Cap’n Ahab toady just white lie wail said
It crocodile aqua lava seems
the Cap’n Nemo Lying King
is gonna sleep well tonight, on your hot Pompeii water bed
Winkin Blinkin And Nod, Sans...
Wonderful World Of Dreamland Furloughed!
Hours elapsed since I did sleep off
and feed my belly from the trough.
What...the...creaking screech re: sound
ding, (an unexpected pro noun
sub bull mashup attributed
to partial government shutdown
point middle finger at dented prez clown.)
The night of my spectacularly
exhausting seventh birth,
I dreamt about an amazing fictitious place,
and taint nope pull lace on Earth
cozily warm like a wood burning hearth
where embers snap,
crackle, and pop with mirth
best show in shutterfly REM
hmm...memory wool worth
(at least for near future) stayin alive
whiskey indeed no comparison, dip pin dive
ving into subconscious realm, and drive
ving devotees mad, 'specially when bing
a barf hull lie ("FAKE"),
thus wide awake temper
aerily perhaps til five
(more minutes), when buzz zee as bee hive
honey combed noggin will cease to jive,
and crown jewel will suddenly seize
gnome hatter, hatter how hard I strive
to stay awake
for no particular rhyme, nor reason
won during, how far
this chap can push himself to break
king point, which presently me make
foolish poem just to slake
hun heed to slather palaver
which yukon leave or take,
since essentially nary a clue
handy dan dee blues zee drew
pea senseless blather
basically (AWOL) din flue
zee brooked stream of consciousness
writing whatever zaps glue
pee bobbing sponge with grayish hue
cranking out words as they snap,
crackle and pop to this Jew
dishy us scrivener knew
dulling in an attempt
to splash unexpurgated lue
nah see gobbledygook, yes
sigh hug gree quite loo
pee, yet this long
(in the dent chord tooth) fell hoo,
he experiences silly (NOT solid) state
ready to moo
myself to supine pose new
matter, an unusual burst
of energy recharged
ordinarily inactive cerebral queue,
hence maximization left no time to rue
rationality upended in
frenetic attempt to spew
until...capacity to type another letter
sputters, a dog send to you
and all otter readers within
the webbed whirled wide human zoo!
WELL I NEVER DROVE CALL ME OLD SCHOOL BUT I WAS BORN AT HOME IN BLIZZARD 1963 IN CHICAGO DURING A CIVIL RIGHTS RIOTS SADLY IT WAS DANGEROUS I WENT TO HEADSTART IN DARK SEDANS WITH FOUR GUARDS IN DARK GLASSES IT WASN'T SAFE TO DRIVE I GREW UP IN A ERA WHERE CAR BOMBS IGNITED KINDERGATERS IN CHURCHES KIDS WERE BEING DRAGGED BY POLICE CARS SIRENS FIRE TRUCKS I NEVER FELT THE NEED TO DRIVE I WAS ALWAYS CAR SICK ALLERGIC TO GAS AND FUMES I JUST THOUGHT CAR WERE DIRTY GREASEY I CAN'T HELP IT SO FUNNY I GREW BELIEVING WOMEN SHOULDN'T GET THIER WHITE GLOVES DIRTY PUMPING GAS OR GET WRINKLES FROWNING IN TRAFFIC HONKING HORNS O THOUGHT WERE MEAN YELLING SCREAMING IMPATIENT PEOPLE AS A LITTLE GIRL I MADE UP MY MIND I EOULD NEVER DRIVE BESIDES BACK THEN MEN DROVE SEDANS STATION WAGONS OR THE NEXT BEST THING YELL TAXI AFTER GROWING UP MY ANXIETY JUST WOULDN'T LET ME DRIVE I COULDN'T SEE MYSELF DRIVING SO NO I WOULDN'T BE CAUGHT DEAD DRIVING A CHEAP HYUNDAI FUEL COVERED A HONDA A GAS GUZZLING FORD A SLOW DRIVEN WATERBED CALLED A LINCOLN CONTINENTAL I LOVED THE CADILACS MY FAVORITE WAS THE SEDAN DEVILLE THE COUP DEVILLE WHAT ABOUT THE ELECTRIC 225 HUGE CAR MY UNCLES DROVE THISE ON THE SOUTH SIDE OF CHICAGO WHEN THEY WEREN'T DRIVING ICE CREAM TRUCKS WE WOULD ROLL TO JACK N THE BOX IN GERMANY I ROAD THE STRASAS THE MONORAIL INTO ITALY I ADORE TRAINS I FEEL BLESSED THAT I NEVER DROVE A CAR I CERTAINLY HAVE NO NEED TO START SO PLEASE DON'T THREATEN ME WITH YOUR INITIALS JCBHPADTWNYQ KIND OF STUPID BUT IT IS WHAT IS I LOVE WALKING RIDING MY SCHWINN WITH A BASKET FUMES ARE DREADFUL I LITERALLY HAD TO CARRY BARF BAGS RIDING WITH FATHER GRANDFATHER UNCLES FUMES VETY HARSH WHEN YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO CARBON MONOXIDE I AM BLESSED I HAVE ALWAYS HAD A DRIVER 1963 LINCOLN TORQUOISE ENTERIOR I THANK GOD I WAS WELL PROTECTED FOR RECORD I NEVER KNEW INTITIALS WERE USED TO SIGN DRIVERS LICENSE I THOUGHT INTITIALS WERE FIR INSURANCE DOCUMENTS AND FRAUDULENT DOCUMENTS WOW INTITIALS ON DRIVERS LICENSE OKAY I WILL PASS THAT ON GOOD INFO TO KNOW
the apple tree greed
the apple tree greed
he has an apple a green apple
he is the only person in this room
with a green apple
suppose suppose NOW
he has MORE of those at home
WHY he has a GREEN APPLE tree
In his backyard no WAIT
He has a vineyard behind his chapeau
And he makes green apple wine
And he sells it to the BOONES FARM people
And they make BOONES FARM green apple wine
And the whole city is soon sick
The children ralf and barf and ralf again
There is no more end to the men
Drinking all the green apple wine
To make this ONE person rich
He never offered me any of his wine
Eyes never drink of alcoholic beverage
Eye have juices and tea and a soda please
I'm just full of good intentions
Picking green apples in my mind and eating way too many
Having a green apple with mye lunch of poetical decay
WAIT he left and YES he took the green apple core with him
Not leaving me a bite not wanting me to taste the pleasure
of his mite. Why eye understand him greedy is his name
the green apple hoarder has so many apples now his wine cellar is so full and
his larders aer so rich he does save the stems and seeds to plant again in
ground so rich and he chews on this green apple while he watches MTV in
selfish hedonistacal revenge while eye have no green apple stuck between my
teeth OH bliss oh strang decay my teeth at least aer happier today he took the
core away he left me all alone im appleless today im happier to say no song is
being sung of little apples of the green variety been hung oh see the tree how big
its grown the apples have been lost too long and they fall in misery from
branches of decay to rot to rot to rot upon the vineyard floor there is no apple wine
no more the green variety is gone they drink it only read and red is the color of the
wine in cups so full of color there in plates so heaped of agony with applesauces
vailiantly piled higher then the sky.
Gloriously "FAKE" Early Boyhood
Yah, ma brew their,
and American sister golden hair -
afar and away
book as aye ken ream hem bar,
yea when yar whiz jist a bay
bee, hun me
verily hoppy goo
loo key lil boy whar 'r each day
o'r flowed with giddiness oot nar the
secluded Harris estuary
frolicked amidst muscled shoals
gnome hatter sky turned
f'ty shades o' gray
hawk cool when
barf heat squished sand
hall lung pristine beach hooray
ah...those memories (hmm...oh...well)
wii ch war newt mine,
boot bar rowed fur room Jay
son and argonauts cave his Oh kay
seance ah waz tip poor
tuff ford me own may
mar ease, noon thee lass nay
var tha lease, aye fain tis eyes hub boat
hoof "FAKE" sea
yuck rat passageway
along tha loon lee coo west
hove yar hug quay
thee pass sea if 'ick Ou shin sum
moo with as ray
dee aunt gull lass oon lake now win me
daughter ring auld age aye
wharf heal moss elf ill eagle
red dee tug hoe bye
bye, cuz hive eel
emotionally frenzied, harried,
and jangled as if
o'er dost hay'n reedy to die
on barb bit char writs eye
lichen to a class five
Saffir-Simpson Hurricane, no...no...no...
methinks oh pen hee van
thar iz a big oop stares "guy"
seen 'm once, when we booth said "Hi"
aye whiz juiced up t'har - me no lie,
what, a stripling lad,
(thus jist man hedge gin my
flat hand outstretched wheel nigh
fin gars call loess tug getter try
tou pet yar palm awk
coo pull hove feet
fur him tha floor),
now (NOT FAKE) chalk
wii ch hide id hawk
daring ma prime er skool daze
didst slip smooth white
totally tubular woo din
lock (like) thin small
round joint long stalk
con vein y'ant lee a'signed
tuck clap 'race ears oot side den maze
wen axed bite t'eat char, me Noah talk!
The jokes here about leaders show
How uniformed we truly are.
Some supernatural......sinless, poets
living up with the twinkling stars?
Are you kidding me??
What planet do you live on?
The great “unelected” white washed
masses?
I see many whose comments are to
humiliate any leader.
As if every Poet here is perfect?
Many, too happy to live off the
government money feeder.
A leader is not a circus clown.
Yes, some are dense, some cheaters.
The far left media has nothing better
to do..than cover their lies or read them
On the Tik Tok intellectual reader...barf!
I certainly don’t like dishonest ones.
It’s totally not my business how they look.
We better glance in our own moral mirror,
To see what we have done.
Because you and I are unelected is no
Sign of perfection.
You chose another path, with leaders like
......”Sylvia Plath.?”
Pointing fingers is childish-and giggling
at their looks?
Children do this in classrooms!
Instead of learning from books!
The unwashed, unelected, you and I,
are the bright Ones who elected them.
Get to work and throw the bums out!
Do not complain as you elected the ones
who brought many nations pain.
Think of the Ukraine! Denied a no fly zone?
Doing that? Killed more than Al Capone.
We are far from innocents, many recently
here, elected a fool!
It’s our job, to have no stolen elections, so
that sanity and freedom will rule.
All-leaders are not imperfect.
All the non elected are not either. Get it?
The rapists, murderers, complainers, do
nothing for any nation.
Elected does not mean evil, unless your
mind and soul are on a groovy, sunflower
vacation!
Best Wishes to All Nations
3-22-2022
Maybe it is all in my head.
If that’s the case, I’d rather be dead.
Please let me know I’m not imagining it all.
I know what I hear when unspoken echos call.
But i know It’s much easier to just think that I’m dumb.
because when you ridicule, I’ll play right along.
“If she had half a brain floating round in her head,
She’d hear my words echo”….......................
yeah. The ones left unsaid.
Then you’d say “only a fool would put on that hat”.....
“Its not what she thinks, must be this, must be that”.
Well, IT IS what I think. Words cant hide all that much.
Its whats left unsaid that delivers a punch!.
Some, we can hear what to others, is not clear.
Read between lines while yours words echo in the air..
Well…
Go ahead, attach labels….they’ll fit like a shoe.
Even when its not me and its everything you!
Come on, you can throw weak spots in my face,
Poke bruises and point while I’m here in this space.
“Must be an idiot”, You say. “I am better than her “.
Why else would one stay in dis-ease and not cure?
I Know not to ask that you understand.
Clearly, it takes more than you’ve got, little man.
I don’t ask or need you reach out a hand.
For that, it takes what you lack, woman.
In many ways I AM different than you.
If our places were switched, I hope this is what id do:
Imagine for a moment…You, a Brainless Old Fish.
That nasty, sharp metal ,got stuck in your lips.
I would take it out for you, let you off the hook.
Even though you watched me squirm while I cooked.
Well remember, you’re just one step away
from the drunk you saw barf in the alley today!
And, in case you didn’t know, I can see loud and clear,
the Dis-ease that you hold, All the way over here.
8 mile Road
Date: Mon, Dec 21 2015 at 1:50 AM
I hear the train coming
An I'm chasing the train humming
I see the smoke puffing
I see the light in the dungeon
I see fight Tussling
I see might Hustling
I see fright rumbling
I'm on the railroad
Following the trail to gold
I inhale the pros
I exhale the cons
I hear my name called on the intercom
The Voice of Megatron
Behind me Deceptions
Trying to make it to Cybertron
Sweat in my palms
An sweat in my arms
Sweat on my face
Tears smeared the Vision to Concentrate
Running without hesitate
No time to contemplate
Got to set the record straight
While in my headphones the record play
Can't be a second late
I see the pearly gates
An Hells devilish face
Laced Leg brace
An ankle weights
I can't catch a break
Cause I'm trying to catch the trains pace
I'm pushing people & devils out the way
To catch some space
My Angel on the train waving
I'm running on the Pavement
They yelling to me Salvation
Gods good Graces
Mercy & Greatness
Glory & Gratefulness
The Story already Created
So I can't stop
I feel like I'm going to drop
My lungs feel clogged
My head throbs
But I'm holding to the Rod
Shadow of wings lift me
Demons trying to get me
I'm flying towards the trains chimney
A Seat made for me Empty
But I got to catch the next stop
So I'm flying to meet the train on the next depart
Strength in me starts to shock
Feel the strength in my heart
I look an see who's all in the carts
I see Rosa Parks
I feel like I'm about to barf
I'm almost there to meet my mark
The train stops
I walk up to the door
The world is burning down in ashes
And up rises the horror; sailing in skies
From the charred corpses that lay down;
Marred and maimed,
Up rises the smoke of terror
Amidst the war cry !
Let me lie down
For all innocent souls;
Let me lie down and weep
The world is falling down in pieces
From cannons that barf destruction ,
Tearing down that was built;
From catapults hemming around the shores,
Retching hatred for mankind;
And down trembles the land
Amidst the war cry!
Let me lie down
For all innocent souls;
Let me lie down and weep
Shouldn't my veins burn in flames of vengeance?
Shouldn't I lust for venin blood, of those,
who knitted this havoc ?
Shouldn't I yearn to rip out their perfidious heart, with my sword?
Have I no right to mourn for my fallen brethren ?
By the hands of those who are less than a man,
And more than a devil;
Who belong to no region or religion
Those who worship terror and spread it like a cancer
A disease eating out this world alive
Have I no right to curse my foe?
But the path to vengeance,
has heaped corpse of innocents.
War is a mess
A mess on both sides
I curse my foe;
You curse your foe;
And in this loop,
We might've cursed each other,
innumerable times.
Alas! Not the real enemy
The one that hides
Sometimes behind you,
And sometimes behind me.
But hey you !
You,from the other side
Are you not hopeful of a day
When it's not us against each other
But us against the terror;
the evil; the inhumane; the wrong
Are you not hopeful of a better tomorrow?
Remember the children’s book,
“Alexander and the Terrible,
Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day”?
Well, yesterday was mine.
Started off okay, got up late,
Got our breakfasts, dressed, made the beds.
Cleaned the cat litter
And found that SweetiePie, 21 years old,
Had missed the box again
And dragged herself through the results.
Washed the cat, cleaned the floor.
Oh, well.
Tried to order a prescription on line.
An hour and a half later
After endless instructions
Via phone and e-mail,
Telephoned in the prescription.
Ate some ham and cheese, rolled up,
Took Andy (our Bernese mountain dog)
For a two mile walk.
Went to the grocery store.
Returned to find Andy
Throwing up breakfast on porch.
Leaves! Andromeda leaves!
Many, many Andromeda leaves!
How could he have reached the bush
From the porch?
Never mind. Out to the vet.
Another barf in the car.
Medicine and many barfs at the vet’s
IV for dehydration.
Two bottles of charcoal.
Home again.
Covered furniture with cotton blankets,
Sat down.
Immediately Andy
Ran through the living room
And dining room, leaving a wake
Of liquid charcoal puddles.
Got him out on the porch,
Where he deposited lots more
Liquid charcoal.
Mopped up the rugs, threw
Pails of water on the porch,
Left Andy outside for a while.
Let him in and fed the cats,
After washing SweetiePie
For a second time that day.
Today, wash the porch,
Vacuum and shampoo the rugs.
Alexander has nothing on me!