Long Behinds Poems
Long Behinds Poems. Below are the most popular long Behinds by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Behinds poems by poem length and keyword.
If I only had magic the amazing things I'd do
I would make you love me and I would love you too
If only I had magic
I could stop the war
I would perhaps wish Putin to be resting in peace forevermore
Would it be wrong to say I'd wish him dead?
I suppose that's absolutely true
So mayhaps he could just stumble and just be very black n blue
If I could wish with all my power I'd wish for good to reign
and no matter what it took... I'd be glad to support the same
Perhaps it would not be evil if I just wish for a fiesta of flat tires
for radio signals to get mudded and all Russian planning to be mired
Would it be too much to ask
for indigestion for the entire Russian lot?
I don't want them to die just fight over the pot
Can I ask for giant potholes?
in direct conflict with their tires?
maybe a spark or two causing the occasional engine fires
I can ask for trees to suddenly and inexplicably fall
It wouldn't be too much to ask if those trees were really tall!
I cannot ask for injury but I can ask for internet snafus
and a sudden bout of allergies requiring great number of tissues
....that just by chance can not be delivered
quite tragically to their line
and so no one has anything to use to wipe their
delicate behinds
Oh no that makes people suffer!
so let's just break their engines instead
.... let there be no engines
and let there be no flights
and let there be no animosity between any of us
tonight
but I do wish for impediment in enormous creative breadth
by all means may they all suddenly
have halitosis breath
Jumping to Conclusions
(my reponse to the reporting of the latest Synagogue attack in Poway, CA)
By Franklin Price
4/28/2019
Jumping to conclusions
Is the mantra of the day
And hating one another
Is the dark that leads the way
Journalism takes advantage
Of the biases we feel
To control our ways of thinking
So we play the cards they deal
Religious or political
Nationality or creed
Sexuality or Racial
Are some biases they feed
Christians hate the Muslims
Muslims hate the Jews
The Parties hate each other
All of these are in the news
Depending who you listen to
As you follow all the news
I would bet they think as you do
And support your biased views
Things will not get better
'Til we open up our minds
And listen to the other side
With our heads from our behinds
Jumping to conclusions
Is not the way to go
The truth should be reported
Not the biases we know
3 of every 4 creatures on earth
Are insects, now you know
Why hordes of damn mosquitoes
Pester and bug us so
They sow their seeds of mayhem
As we sit in the summer sun
Being annoyed by these tiny bugs
Till finally we get up and run
After a house fly eats its food
It regurgitates and eats it once more
Imagine if we re-ate our meat balls
That's something I would abhor
Americans eat 12 billion bananas
Every year, no wonder at times
We get the urge to hang from trees
Or scratch our protruding behinds
Each one of us uses approximately
Fifty sheets of bum wipe
Each and every day of our existence
We're killing our trees, my gripe
Maybe instead, use toilet paper
With a hole right in the centre
We could use it over and over again
Washing up is a disease preventer
In 32 years there are approximately
One billion seconds of time
Each one is so very very precious
Waisting one is a downright crime
Once upon a time, mother was gifted new life.
Reformed, reborn the second child to poverty,
through the coldness of a Maine winter came beauty.
A fair Eve to her brothers Adam construction
her bloom was destined for a fresh spring being
and her eventual undoing awaits at death.
And, so she was born from the stark darkness of death
and raised on the undone leavings of old life.
Grandma brought bright sunlight with all of her being.
Granddad culled the forest deer to dress their poverty.
A thin walled lake cabin, a homes base construction
housed a family full of fine children’s beauty.
Field and forest with flower and tree were her beauty.
The doe, the buck, the rabbit bought life from their death.
The harshness of this life brought forth angry constructions,
razor strap beatings on small white behinds laced their lives.
Fishing, gardening canning and sewing relieved poverty
In time love came for her dancing into being
The Big One WWII brought my Dad to being
Auburn hair and chocolate eyed was Mom’s beauty
Her handmade clothes sewn with the art poverty
The war had brought them all too close to death
Lovers grasp at the gift they’re given, gifted life
and a new family of country and city was constructed.
Fifty years more , she was given, in this soul construction
tearful years of longing for a different being
with little joy at home, the family of this life
denying the world outside the walls the beauty
not even accepting the end of pain her death
Her gift to me, knowledge, I live not in poverty.
Mom died on a cold wet January day in poverty.
Her poverty was of money and not of love’s construction
at her tidy bed sitting with her hand in mine she died.
“Oh, I wish it were so, and then not, with all my being”
Not all of her treasures gone, for her children’s beauty
remains, their love had not left her throughout her life.
Though in reality Mom lived a short time in poverty being
but the construction of even that poorest plight was always beautiful.
And what is death really once through the pain but rich new life.
No more new year resolutions,
no more lie on government restitution,
no republic can survive its dilution
no more pandemic blues,
no more wild-eyed cons[iracy cues
no more revenue that's due,
just a prayer for every ordinary me and you;
give me liberty, opinion and my own discretion
a say in the congressional gridlocked sessions
and give me my freedom of choice,
keep your Beemer, Lincoln, Lexus and Rolls Royce,
help me vote, let me speak my voice;
let me give my fair share
how much do you care
about health, hunger, poverty and medicare,
brother do you have a dime to spare,
is anyone with common sense there?
Where are the children too long missing
who's corporate behinds are you now kissing
what's with all the anger and the hissing,
end these shootings, hate fires the looting dissings
help the homeless and the poor, stop the dismissing
are your senate raging rants just visual political pissing?
Schumer, Pelosi, Manchin, McConnel and McCarthy
what is the point of your political party,
you play your little games of cat and mouse
while nothing is done in Senate or in House?
Get to work, do your jobs
stop the lobby dance and cut the hobnobs,
too long perhaps you hold power
all governments are now, equally soured
while the general population is deflowered.
Forty years are well enrolled, through diggjng dirt i say.'
In Bangladesh and nepal; Afganistan, Bombay.'
Many water wells there are' And yet' so filthy too.?
Its is spoken of upon t v always.' Yet is it really true? and in the west
There are many so chemicals in it for children of today..' Plus me
And you'
Could the dirty water holes? Be western dug.? perhaps From
The 70s up to this age? and if they're not? With cash given
Quite a lot' why such a sad situation? Reigns.? Its also give and
Give, for wars on want, and wars on wars.' So really far away.'
That keep the average world population low.' 450, 000 dead in
Ukraine? plus Russian dead also.? they say.' Now for some thats really great they power strut.' And internationally butt, in around our
Globe; each day..There are always new catastrophe's
Err.? Situations as one might say.? Also can the people help
Is the very first yelp. They have collaterol the scheemers will
Say.' Their lives are drab, they are far to glad.' Also
We deserve, much more year on year; more! and that day
By day' we're the better bred us peado-preds, we'll leave
Our mark upon, this world, as our mainstay.' We'll change
Their minds kick their behinds, and inject billions along the
Way, herds they are' both near and far and they'll describe
Themselves such way..What a laugh' pure fun they'll go our
Way (the April fools) will follow each rule' each mandate
SO WE SAY.! Any one who stands us up, they'll ridicule
Again just as we say, we'll lock and shut.' Its really our luck!
Thats (from lucifer btw!) And should they learn.? its all a
Game' losses for them, yet for us much gains.' The egg bank 80s
Took the 'branches down' soon every street will be ghost
Town, and they will eat the insect fare, some are cancer causing,
Oh this is so prescious rare..! We are the faceless
That crave all power, over each daytime, minute; and the hours'
Again the same goes for the night.' For we are the scourgers
With all the rights.'
let me tell you a little story about how i nearly lost my mind
it was in my early twenties i facing such confusing times
back when i thought i was untouchable in a world so full of crime
dumb a foolish like so many before me thinking the world was only mine
selling dope to so many stupid folks just to make that change
from hustling bums to toting guns like so-one gone deranged
the time behinds bars for driving stolen cars thinking where the hell was my brain
several time in fights almost took a life which would've been impossible to explain
the stories galore about the women at my door made me in no way proud
from bars to bars to racing cars just to stand out in the crowd
and spreading such evil by the way i spoke to people being so unruly and loud
doing so much stuff that i could never cover up not even with the all holy shroud
life was moving so fast that i would never last being so caught up in the haze
but as i begun to get older feeling the weigh on my shoulder i realize the era of my ways
from being as high as i could go to falling so so low lets me know that kind of life never pays
now from having not, to actually earning everything i got even has me quite
amazed
now the moral to my story is quite easy to understand
i had to stand up on my own two feet in order to be a man
stop taking life for granted that was not the lords plan
receive the blessing that was meant for you and give back when you can
Red-handed-echo location -weapon
bouncing back and forth
off our minds
eating the metal
off our top shelves...
where the hell
are Santa's elves.
Oh well, this isn't so bad
no toilet paper
a silly mask
some dirty behinds
everyone's equally beautiful.
This must be the new age silver lining...
We will survive; we've been through worse.
Will we be wise to the dirty flies?
Laying eggs on our meatocracy.
Maggots unleashed, there is no calm.
No such thing as free.
Even breathing in the air can cost us everything.
Gold can be worthless if on a finger then laid to earth.
More than ever, we need an infusion of peaceful things.
I have in my possession an object I really prize.
It belonged to two guys whom I really idolize.
'Twas a necessary device when straight razors were the fad.
'Tis the leather razor strop used by my Grandpa and Dad.
Its precise genesis is really difficult to gauge,
But it's certainly well over a century old in age.
It shows the scars as they went to all the trouble,
To hone their razors to rid their mugs of stubble!
I can picture them as young swains shaving before the mirror,
With a steady hand trying not to nick an ear.
With a brush and soap to apply lather to their face,
Later to meet their sweeties decked out in ribbons and lace!
Now I never thought of a razor strop in relation to education,
But Mom found a novel use for it much to my mortification.
When I became rowdy and tended not to mind,
That cold, hard strop was generously applied to my behind!
I will pass the old strop along to a subsequent generation,
With vivid tales of Mom's expertise in its application!
This only to add to family knowledge and lore,
But to use on tender behinds never, never more!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Dark Night Warrior
Imagine a world where darkness reigns supreme, and the sun itself coders behinds clouds of despair.
Within this realm, a lonely soul seeks solace in the arms of another, only to find his path blocked by a unseen adversary.
Yet amidst the gloom, glimmers of hope flicker like distant star. Can this lost soul find the strength to confront the demons that haunts him?
Through his travels he remind himself, must remember that true love, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, cannot be extinguished by mere darkness alone.The flame that burns within us all may flicker and waver, but never truly dies. At times, we find ourselves confronted by seemingly insurmountable obstacles that threatens to snuff out our very light within.