Long Basset Poems
Long Basset Poems. Below are the most popular long Basset by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Basset poems by poem length and keyword.
I am a basset hound and I love to play
I can run and jump all day
I really love magic and tricks
I also love chocolate bics
Yummy! They are so good
I would eat a packet a day if I could
My name is Lady and here is a story all about me
I'm a funny looking dog you see:
Lady was home alone
All she had was her green plastic bone
Her owners had gone out for the day
And Lady really wanted to play
Miserable, she lay on the ground with her long floppy ears
With watery eyes, it seemed as though she was about to burst into tears
Suddenly she perked up when she heard a squeaking sound coming from the house
Lady became excited, she hoped it was a mouse
She barked out loud and ran towards the sound
Lady was such a clever basset hound
With her long nose, she sniffed out the little mouse in his hiding place
The whole morning turned into a playful ‘dog and mouse’ chase!
The mouse was too fast for her and escaped through a small crack in the wall
He was terrified of this funny looking dog who stood two feet tall
Exhausted, Lady flopped down in her basket to rest
She had tried her very, very best
She closed her eyes and had a long nap
And dreamt that she managed to squeeze through the scary dog flap
When Lady woke up, her throat felt dry
She needed a gallon of water to drink and she alone knew why!
The sun was shining and it was hot
She found her bowl and gulped down the lot
Lady looked at the new dog flap
She lifted up one of her paws and gave it a sharp tap
She took a chance and pushed herself through the gap
Relief flooded through her, she had made it out of the flap
Out in the sun
It was time for more fun
Lady headed to the beach
It wasn’t far, within her reach
Calm blue sea with the tiniest of waves
Grottos and amazing caves
Lady’s paw marks were all over the sand
She loved to play by the sea and on land
Cool air blew around her as she splashed around in the sea
What a great feeling it was to be free!
The aroma of food was all around
She was always hungry, this hilarious hound
An ice-cream van was parked nearby
Lady drooled and just stood by
A young couple spotted the little dog sitting down on her own
Her sad brown eyes caught their attention, they each bought her a cone
Lady wished that she could shout
She clenched both cones in her mouth
She licked off the chocolate ice-cream and wolfed down the rest
Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever (Toller)
To “toll” is to dance like a fox
Luring mallards or teals to the rocks
Where a hunter’s awaiting
What the dog has been baiting
Scaring duckies right out of their jocks
The Old English Sheepdog
I’m partial to dogs that are shaggy
That are goofy and sweet and not naggy
They only see good
From their eyes under hood
So it’s sad that their tails aren’t waggy*
*Like Boxers, their tails are docked
The Papillon
Considered more missy than mensch
(Butterfly’s the translation from French)
In private is seen
With a king or a queen
And in public with Dame Judi Dench
The Pekingese
At a Cantonese restaurant with luck
One can still find some things for a buck
But imagine my shock
When the place down the block
Ran a special on Pekingese duck
The Petite Basset Griffon Vendéen (PBGV)
Le Basset tres Petite Vendéen
Un Griffón compagnon de Cézanne
Et Renoir en Provence
*Comme ils lounge lors d’une danse
On the grass with a glass of Marsanne
(*As they lounge during a dance)
The Pit Bull
The Pitty despite what you hear
Is not vicious at all but quite dear
It will sit like a dove
With its eyes full of love
While it slowly devours your ear
The Pomeranian (Pom)
The Pom is a kind of a spitz
A Chihuahua with fur in a ditz
The type of a pooch
You can cuddle and smooch
Or show off with a date at the Ritz
The Poodle
The Poodle is known for its smarts
For excelling at music and arts
But an owner was telling
Me after the smelling
They also blow nuclear farts
The Portuguese Water Dog
Pity the poor Portuguese
Who ended up sheets to the breeze
His bowl had been spiked
With a port that he liked
You could tell by the smell of his fleas
The Pug
Behold the repug-a-nant Pug
With a mug that resembles a thug
Though their owners observe
What they really deserve
Is not scorn but a cuddling hug
The Rhodesian Ridgeback
I bought one of these for a dollar
It said Phi Beta Kap on its collar
I later found out
(Though not without doubt)
It had been a Rhodesian scholar
somewhere out there
a basset hound lives in the same house as a
macaw.
the gorgeous tropical bird,
bearing its staggeringly spectacular array of
intensely prepossessing &
polychromasiac
hues,
dominant in the household as an exotic
spectacle
whose mere presence in a non-tropical environment
pulls in the curious onlooker.
it stands upon its little
perch,
staring down at the hound---
the perpetually sad looking,
perfect model of evolution
(wherein the imperfections of natural selection can be seen in its
extremely long ears that touch the ground, its stubby legs that are far too
short for its body, etc.---one can make the argument that the poor basset hound
has not been fortunate to lose such ridiculous traits as of yet),
stands almost teary eyed
with its neck bent at an angle,
looking straight up in the direction of the macaw
its feeble attempt is noticed by the majestic bird.
cawing down at the hound,
the bird baffles---
the hound,
whose name is derived from the french adjective for
“rather low,”
ponders the bird’s exchange,
wondering if it is ridiculing &
taunting it for being such a sort of, um,
mistake---
it spends little time deciding &
barks back at the bird in its bellowing manner.
in the already unnatural cage the human owners of these two
creatures,
a new animal kingdom of two has arisen---
the hounds knows not what to make of this bright colored bird &
the bird,
rather unaffected by the odd character
way
down
there
below,
seems to enjoy the pandering back & forth,
as if in a conversation
where the both of them are understanding mutually the exchange that is
occurring.
and while the insanity of the macaw & the hound persists
(the hound bellowing & the macaw trying to mimic the bellow in an
effort to see how the hound’s day is going),
these two animals come to a consensus
that together in such a situation
they are both equally out of their element &
a new bond is formed,
an allegiance, if you will,
wherein psittacidae & canidae
have found common ground---
resist these humans at all costs.
the dripping blood from her heart needed to clot
the couple was rolling along in their boat
on a river to nowhere, on a cloudy day
when she decided to push him overboard
she was tired of his cheating ways
who cares if he ended up as driftwood
she blew him a last kiss, pretentious
she then looked into his inquiring eyes
now submerged under the water alongside the boat
his body contorted, bubbles blowing from his mouth
words on lips asking why
he was sinking to his death, as driftwood
she laughed, she had the oars
she could give a damn
especially with all the hurt he caused her
the scratches of note paper in his pockets
the phone numbers with hearts next to it
one with a 10+
the women's scent on his body
the condoms
and especially of the written guilt on his face
with more hidden excuses, agendas
like he had spent his passion elsewhere
and was always tired when he was with her
he was a con's con
she had enough of being brokenhearted
used and abused, trampled on, shared
it was easy for her to sniff it all out
like a basset hound that was on his trail
searching for the scent of unfaithfulness
to say the basset hound in her went wild
is understatement
it barked at his feet
nipped at his legs, ripped his dignity apart
ever so appropriately
she was angry then and now
she rolled her boat away quickly
and never looked back
unlike before
the sun was now shining on the river
glistening the surface
a picture perfect day
with the wind blowing on her face
nicely
she continued to row away
as she composed a letter in her mind
I was once your friend and lover
turned wound up toy that you played with
it's a game to you, candy that you suck on
acquiring many flavors as you can
running from one hen to the next
at my cost and sorrow.
I'm done with you
the dripping blood from my heart needed to clot
connie pachecho
1/2/17
The Spaniel
A Spaniel that uses its head
Can tell when its owner’s unfed
So instead of a duck
That is down on its luck
Will deliver a pizza instead
The Affenpinscher (Affen)
Not sniffle nor snuffle nor wheeze
Not chest in distress if you please
None we have found
Quite capture the sound
Of its name (which is more like a sneeze)
The Afghan Hound
The Afghan’s a dog groomer’s joy
The definitive Lord Fauntleroy
But with all that coiffure
One is never quite sure
If the “she” is a girl or a boy
The Airedale Terrier
Airedale, king of the terriers
Domain without borders or barriers
Stubborn and proud
On alert, never cowed
Justly known for their cute little derriers
The Akita
Hachiko the name that he bore
An Akita of Japanese lore
In sunshine and rain
He would wait for a train
And a man who died seasons before
The Alaskan Malamute
He traveled with Byrd to the Pole
Although Fairbanks was actually their goal
On a very dark night
They turned left and not right
Now their feat is for all to extol
The Basenji
A Basenji may giggle or snark
Chat with pigeons it meets in the park
From the moment it wakes
Oh, the noises it makes!
Just don’t ever expect it to bark
The Basset Hound
Is it sorrow in canine disguise?
Is it pity empathic and wise?
Or is it not either
Nor sympathy neither
But hunger we see in its eyes?
The Beagle
A Beagle is loyal but...dumb
An endearing, affectionate chum
Tireless and lean
A hunting machine
Just don’t ask him to chase and chew gum
The Belgian Malinois (Mal)
When the SEALS did their raid on bin Laden
And caught him just when he was noddin’
‘Twas a Mal wearing goggles
With custom-made toggles
Who helped put an end to fatwa-den
I shook my hips down at Heart Break Hotel...
My ghost now supposedly wanders to where, I just
will not tell.
I had a twin brother that died at birth...
My mother i dearly loved had died and i had had her put beneath
the grave sight's earth.
I smiled my sneer into the camera, while'st singing to a Teddy Bear.
The money kept rolling in from the sale of my records.
I had kissed Anne Margaret and Marilyn Monroe on the cheek.
I shot many tv screens showcasing the talented songs of the Beatles.
Their music got under my skin like many sharp pointy, syringed needles.
My drug habit almost got me thrown into a Jail House Rock...
Not Hard Rock Cafe.
I bought Caddy's for complete strangers out on the street...
Teenagers danced to my music's own Rock-A-Billy beat.
I enjoyed the skies that were colored a nice Blue Hawaii.
My father would never mispell my middle name on my tombstone...
I am still alive in hiding in Buonas Aires, and totally living alone.
A price was put on my head...
So my coffin was filled with a waxed dummy controlled by a refridgerated
encasement.
I no longer reside at my Memphis mansion's very own basement.
I once sang to a sad looking Basset Hound...
No more new songs by me, will there ever be heard my deep voiced
sound.
No more singing to that stupid looking Basset Hound.
On that island so far away-I go by the name of Mr.John Burroughs.
I'm making more money while being dead, than alive...
My children and Granchildren will be left well to do and materially survive and
thrive.
I've been spotted eating out of a bucket, pieces of chicken...
It's been reported that my fingers what was i had been seen, lickin'.
I was 'The King of Rock and Roll...
I started it all, i've been tole'.
Form:
Let me tell you a story about a dog named Sam
Sam was a basset hound of most dubious origins
He had a huge ugly wart on his back, not so glam,
A neighborhood dog, at supper he went about foragin’.
Everyone loved Sam with his happy-go-lucky demeanor
He always went about his business carefree and gay
We always thought no other dog around was keener,
Daily with all of us neighborhood kids Sam would play.
One day Semp and I were shooting with our slingshots
Like country boys then did frequently for fun,
But that day ended up with our stomachs in knots
So sorry that old Sam did not hear us, get up, and run.
We were shooting at crows that were sitting on a fence
Not realizing Sam was lying underneath in the shade,
And from that point, in my story, everything got tense
A stray rock hit Sam while under the fencerow he laid.
We heard Sam yelp, watched him draw his last breath,
Semp and I tried our best to revive him that afternoon
But the damage was done, and we experienced death
We buried Sam under the nettles in an old pine grove
Our tears flowed freely as we read his canine eulogy,
Everyone for miles around, well, Sam was known to love
Both Semp and I could never offer a suitable apology.
Afterwards, we gave up slingshots, any shooting event,
It was never much fun to do from that sad day forward
And this is, truthfully, how the tragic story of Sam went.
[PET/PETS]
FIRST PLACE WINNER
written April 16, 2022
for "Poetry Form - N - Narrative" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Constance La France
She leads her army up and down,
two sides of Main Street, and is found
companioned by three basset hounds.
They follow, closely, at her heels
like foundlings gathered round
I've often wondered where she goes,
with shopping cart, and dogs in tow.
Tweed on her back, scarves on her hair,
regardless of the temperature
She never speaks, but no one cares.
with eyes like windows, dark and clear.
A friendly clerk will wave hello,
while patrons share a coin or two.
We help her fill her cart with food,
her needs are scant, her wants are few.
When spring arrives, she'll sit and rest
upon the bench, within the shade
to watch daily passing parade
She'll stay awhile, become our friend,
then disappear, as summer ends
Dark hooded eyes have not revealed,
just why she migrates, what compiles
her secret story, or where she goes.
She's a soldier of frenetic times
where clocks tick fast, and seasons change.
She holds the leash like it's her string
to keep the world within her hands
A solemn ritual, we have seen
again, again, where has she been?
And through the seasons, we have grown,
more curious, yet pleased to bend
a little more to understand
She stays until the autumn comes
But winter knows her silent song
_____________________________________________
4/29/16
Contest: Second Place Contest
Sponsor Laura Loo
(Based on a real person that we often see on the streets of our small town)
__________________________________________________
Grandpa
a kind face
skin leathery and creased from years of working in the sun
long jowls like a basset hounds
sad droplet eyes
always a slight aroma of beer
brown wrinkled callous palms
dirt-stained fingernails were evidence of an old man’s toil
a blue plaid shirt now ashen from wear
a tall man
always unshaven with scrapes of gray hair that would scratch you un-mercifully if he asked for a hug
he walked with shoulders hung and bowed over as if broken
that of a man who had known the burdens of inequality all his life
the kindness in his eyes reflected a graceful acceptance of his fate
his tears masked a rage and unforgiveness for the destiny of his children
late afternoons he would sit out yonder under a huge black gum tree
a blackened wood briar pipe a pack of red man chewing tobacco and a can of snuff beside him
one jaw always popped out as the tobacco had to sit just long enough before it was time to spit
he would sit in that shaded spot for hours on end
up till sunset most days
always staring intently at something out there
was it memories from his past
or perhaps the dreams of a past that someone stole
eventually, grandma would call out to him
Henry where you be?
he would always reply
after awhile
I’m just there…
I never understood what that meant before
Until now
"Velvet Smooth" she disquised her
Voice to speak to her followers.
Basset toned, they said she was a
Soprano. The course of years revealed
she was a he. A man nicknamed
"Phatez" who couldn't get a break in
Music, he opened up a radio station.
He used his roots in growing
Mexican cotton, to start the
Best Brand Cotton Company. "They
Made cotton everything Honey" speaking
to a Vocal Reporter. Men called me Phatez
and there woman snuck round wiff me,
I could sing and dance and my Sax skills
we're on point Honey! ez and Snitches,
we use to say, Giggle Dheezez was one of
my best freinds til he critized my cotton-
Pickers. Told that something the devil
blushed saying and he offered my potty
Mouth a job at his studio.Come o'er there
and they some trash. Told that fool I bought
You calling me greased, babe what do you
want from me ? I bought the studio the
next day. I got the idea of boxvoicing from
one of the workers, saying we ain't specail
no more.I told, " ya'll special to me"! He said
gone then yo' sweet self; Phatez you knows
I love you! Shelac my Georgia pine Floor, dance, babe
Dance! His brother is one thoseRasslin promoters,
They came here to talk, told that man
" Stay low; ain't nobody looking from the waist up
stay low, that's what these perplex want"!