Long Bug out Poems
Long Bug out Poems. Below are the most popular long Bug out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bug out poems by poem length and keyword.
What Stout Is About
Me, Finn and McGee
We went to the pub the see
This new fancy Stout
They've been talkin' about
I ordered, and we were served three
Now when I looked down
Me mouth made a frown
For a fly was afloat in me beer
So I tossed the drink out
And I gave out a shout
I'll be wanting a fresh one right here
Finn then looked in
And a fly seemed to swim
In his glass filled with stout so brown
So he pulled the bug out
Then tossed it about
And drank the stout all the way down
Now Wee Luck McGee
looked down just to see
That a fly was floating about
So he grabbed both his wings
And while shaking the thing
Said "Bastard, you best, spit it out"
Suddenly there was a cold draft
It was chilly reminiscent of a wintry shower bath
Making the body freeze
With a tundra tease
It came from up there
Screaming icy air
Was it a duct?
Where the warmth got stuck?
Like a refrigerator open door
Luring a bear into making an easy score
Dressed in the appropriate hibernation muffle
Before escaping doing a planned shuffle
Closing the door
Than crossing the frigid floor
The draft did stop
And soon it got very hot
Suddenly there was a cold draft
Apparently one or two countries had a wrath
Notice came in the mail
Failure to respond meant going to jail
Reporting to camp
With a form signed by a rubber stamp
Boots on the ground
Glory and honor it did sound
As copter blades twirled
And butch haircuts curled
Things went down
Hopefully the bodies would be found
Closing the casket
Family wearing black veils to mask it
The draft did stop
And bonding financial transactions started to get hot
Suddenly there was a cold draft
Foaming an artistic craft
Not a bad deal for a first round that was picked
A social prop soothing the issue that made them ticked
Corona was its name
Perfect for the conversation game
Debating with a laugh
Communicating about the calculating national debt math
Not using any sharp words as spears
Just a nice talk over a few beers
Going down like a saintly breeze
Unlike a French wine next to cheese
Closing the tab
Before calling a cab
The draft did stop
Making the bar flies bug out cheerful not angry and hot
Nona is love with a spoon in her hand,
To stir the pot or smack your hand.
She's free with her hugs, her stories, her food,
But if your bad she comes unglued.
She hustles and bustles all over the place.
She fusses and worries and gets in your face.
If she can't solve your problems with food and a hug,
She'll call in a priest and get down on the rug,
To pray for your soul and your problems she'll share.
With the priest and The Lord she'll lay her heart bare.
If you don't have a boyfriend then she's sealed your fate.
She'll call up her nephew and get you a date.
Never tell her you're hungry 'less you want to be fed.
She'll feed you till your eyes bug out of your head;
And when she feeds you you'd best clean your plate.
If you don't eat it all then her food you must hate.
Then her feelings are hurt and you feel like a cad,
So eat till you're sick so she don't feel bad.
She's the queen of the guilt trips and the queen of hearts,
But she does give new meaning to the phrase,"Ow! that smarts."
Her eyes still twinkle though she's withered and old,
But when God made her, He broke the mold.
My bug out bag would include my grandchildren.
It would have to be large, because I have ten.
My cat and dog would go in and my wild raccoons.
They count on me for their food right?
My husband could stay home.
I have had him so long we are redundant.
We can watch eight hours of TV
And laugh at only the same things
And say the same words
For the entire time, and only these words.
I would take a jug of red grapefruit juice,
and a five tires and a large bundle of rope.
Matches for a bon fire.
Wait! I am taking the cat out.
She is ordering the children about again.
Making one cry.
The dog gets to go; she is laid back.
Is that a rat? Who brought that?
Okay. If it has a name,
How can I say no to a pet?
I am going to write a funny poem
How is tomorrow?
Does it look like today?
Then I don't want it
Okay not?
Then yeah I want it
Just to make sure you wrap it up okay?
I want it as a present
Sure hope you come
Did I just say that?
Sure hope you not come haha
What do I want to say?
I don't know what I want to say
Just know I want to say it
"Say what?"
Ahhh
Bug me, will ya?
I need to get the bug out of me
Shhhh burning
It will combust
Did you get the kink out yet?
No? Not yet?
Do you know what you are doing?
Lol
Running machine
Who is running?
Surely not moi
What are you talking about?
Did you say you'll succeed?
Wish you luck
'Cause you are going to need a lot of luck
What are the chances?
One in a million?
Around there
No one wins yet
Lol
Who talks about bs?
I do
I will talk about bs
until you are blue in the face
'Cause I know bs when I see one
Take one to know one lol
You can say that haha
Ahhh
What do I do with you?
Can't get away
Can't f away
Can't do away
What? What can I do with you?
I give up
You can coo if you want too
But it's not going to work on me
Cookadoodle doo
Willie Willa
When does the sun rise?
I know a lady who is
really and I mean really,
(because she meant 'really')
really (because she said 'really')
"attempting not to give in to hatred"
and so I remind, that the hatred is not
an out-there thing, it isn't rain
or the coming cold, it isn't the
acorn clitter-clatter dropping
out over there on the patio
The hatred, if such a thing there be,
lives in you, unfed and forgot.
And you can't give in to yourself.
Giving in is to another, to something outside.
And so, take heart and be reminded
that the starved self doesn't wield power
over you, it cannot for it is you; a part of you.
She says there were "waves of rage"
roiling through her. But again, if I might
remind. A wave is a quality of other things.
It isn't its own thing, per se. It is a pattern,
a way some many, many other things behave.
And so the wave, too is not in you.
The many, many things are in you; they are you
but the pattern is no more extant than
a song stuck in your head.
She said she's packed a "bug out bag"
and I would like to say here just one more thing
that yes, I agree. Well, sorta yes.
If what you mean is to pack a bag, a picnic,
a pair of birdwatching spectacles, a bottle of
mid-price wine, some fruit, and a sketchpad
and go out, and be with the bugs, be on that patio,
watch those out-there waves.
Bug Out Bag, indeed. :)
Step outside.
the waves
the patio
the acorn
the birds
the wine (I presume)
the air
the waves
come on outside...
it's nice out there
outside yourself
-ShhDragon
(for Julie Williams.)
Want to talk?
Silence.
Want to play a game?
Head shake.
Want to put a puzzle together?
Silence.
What can I do to help?
Head shake.
Has someone hurt your feelings?
Silence.
Can you tell me how you are feeling?
Head shake.
You are great at not talking.
I see a glimpse of a glimmer of a smile.
Breakthrough.
Thirty minutes after playing
With legos and animals this five-year-old laughs loudly
I had said, “You are the boss.
I am your minion.”
His joyous laughter was unexpected, and loud,
And it seemed to go on forever.
My bestie the nurse asks me later who was laughing so hard in my office.
I tell her and her eyes bug out.
You are kidding! She says.
I smile.
The sun is shining brightly
On high and in my heart
Can't think of any good reason
Why my happy is off the chart
Could it just be a fluctuation
In my everyday ebb and flow
Or am I about to inherit a fortune
Perhaps fifty million or so
That'd get my heart a-pumping
Have to go lie down I fear
Gotta survive to really enjoy my luck
At least for a few more years
Maybe a trip to some exotic place
Where the girlies dress in grass skirts
Swing and sway oh what a scene
This stress I must try to avert
Always been a real big sucker
For members of the opposite sex
They drive me wild, my eyes bug out
I stutter and stammer, by heck
How bout that, my fine feathered friends
Survived another bout of girly-itis
One day it's sure gonna get me good
When it renders me totally speechless
The sun is shining brightly
On high and in my heart
Do you know why I'm so pooping happy
Coz of the joy you do impart<>
In most of the movies back in the day.,.
women of the sixties wore glasses, so they could be smart
Women without glasses were thought to have empty non-thinking heads
In the sixties TV shows, all librarians wore glasses
Even the ones who did not need them
sexy women put their hair in ponytails and wore glasses
So men would be afraid of their smart brains.
When the women wanted to wow the men
They would take their hair down and
take off their glasses
The men's eyes would bug out.
They could not believe how attractive the women had become.
They barely recognized them and fell in love instantly.
As soon as the smart glasses came off.
we watched this on TV all the time when I was young
It is the ides of March
My throat feels parch
It’s like we were stabbed in the back
On the level of the Brutus attack
They say there is a bug out there
Stalking the air
Taking down life’s nice modern day special things
That keeps peace for leaders that include royal Kings
As we say good bye to social interaction
Allowing isolated bitterness to an acceptable attraction
I give my gratitude for that glass of water
From the returning reporter
In the field
Asking the question, “what is the deal”?
There are many ways to look at this mess
Claiming being a member of the press
Listen and think before one write
Since paranoia can breed an uncomfortable plight
Communication is important right now
Maturity is a key in knowing how
With my voice now clear
Trying not to offend a Mexican beer
Carrying on with the show
That is about distributing information on what we think we know