Long Bum Poems
Long Bum Poems. Below are the most popular long Bum by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bum poems by poem length and keyword.
Tommy fell off his bike and broke his bum
When he set off to find a new one
Big, tall, or one size fits all
A man he met at the mall,
offered a new bum but for a large sum
Tommy looked here, there, and everywhere
Even the stores where they sold underwear
To venders who had his back
But his bum still had a huge crack!
Something was still wrong, how very unfair
His bum was so noisy it brought him shame
It made weird noises and he got the blame
Tooting, hooting, and squeaking
when anyone started speaking
His bum sounded like a video game
When he discovered he had the loudest,
his talent made Tommy the proudest,
A butt trumpeting bold,
better than a pot gold
His sound-system backside, the best!
Sonic blasts when Tommy bent over
He picked a perfect four-leaf clover
A gas that blew him away
well into St. Paddy’s Day
A blast heard from Dublin to Dover
The poor lovely lemon,
It’s really so unfair
An arbitrary choice?
Then why not choose a pear?
Why pick on little lemons
A bit sour to the taste?
An unfair connotation
Common sense has been displaced
My car is such a lemon,
Is said to mean, its junk!
And that ‘When life gives you lemons”…
Is just a lot of bunk
Why lemons are delicious
In their bright and cheery hue
There seems to be no end to just what
They can do for you
Now, they can bleach your elbows
And can even lighten hair
Try sitting in the sun
With your hair that’s full of pear
And maybe most important,
At least it is for me!
I need them for my cocktails
Well, I need a lemon tree!
There must be something besides love
Another good topic for a poem
Perhaps I'll write about nature and stuff
And the chilly winds a-blowin'
October in Canada has that nip in the air
That foretells of the season ahead
For those that are into those winter sports
Bet you're can't get it out of your head
Well maybe when I was a very young'un
Snow time meant barrels of fun
But this guy's quite old and crotchety now
Snow means falling on me bum
Can't wait for spring just six months to go
The months can't go by fast enough
Perhaps I'll hibernate just like the bears
Then wake up and brush of the dust
Don't get me wrong, I'm Canadian eh!
It's the law, I'm required to like winter
They could lock me up, throw away the key
It's also against the law to whimper
(sniff!)
© Jack Ellison 2013
as i go running through cyber space
i wonder who it is
that is giving me chase
i'm so excited about playing
the game
i wonder who it is that'll
think of my name
it better be phyllis
or could it be jane
which of these poets
remembered my name
while i'm sitting here
i'm going insane
with this special e-mail
running around in my brain
oh no there's a problem
a huge road block
who will i name after
tagged i've got
i don't like to wait
so i'll chose someone who's here
pretty much all of you
have been pretty dear
tag your it!
catie lindsey
lets just hope your
not in a frenzy
it's your turn now
so lets get busy
i picked you cause
your so dizzy
Form:
(This is a fictional poem)
My rotten brother-in-law has been sleeping on my couch for six months.
It's not pleasing to live in the same house with a dunce.
He could move out if he was earning income.
But he hasn't looked for a job even once because he's a bum.
He dropped out of school in the third grade when he was seventeen.
He's the biggest dumbass I've ever seen.
With his amount of education, he could easily get a job at Burger King.
If he comes back without a job again, his ### is going to be in a sling.
He thinks he's earning his keep because he's cooking our meals.
But when I eat, I get a mouthful of hair because he's going bald and it makes me
very ill.
He leaves his clothes laying all around, he's a slob.
I'll go to jail for murder if that bum doesn't get a job.
Form:
The actor was acting up
whilst falling down,
then tumbling
like Jack and Jill,
watering his career
with the director’s tears.
Those tears they turned the reel
into a real mistake
that killed the mistaken idea
that the actor couldn’t act.
Oh, he’d act whilst playing
a wall or packing a wallop.
He could play it straight
after emptying a barrel
of hops. He’d monkey
around, sure enough,
but the reel turned
out real good.
The director sobbed,
as did the leading lady,
sober as a titmouse,
lips trembling,
for she had wined
99 times.
But, that hack was good.
She’d had to admit it,
after she was committed.
Had they committed the bum,
the movie wouldn’t have won
and the Oscar
would have gone to the ‘toon.
The director and leading lady
dry their eyes
as the actor wets his whistle
one more time
to charm the public
with his sublime rhetoric.
He bows
over
and regurgitates
over and over
his subliminal vocation.
The ‘toon’s now sarcastic,
bombastically declares
he should have won.
(No actor is humble)
This fumble will cost him,
and accost him.
The winner wipes his lips
and the sweat from his cheeks,
cheekily rips
up the toon’s script.
“Be real…” he says.
That man you see,
On the streets he be
Living with nothing to his name
He holds no one to blame.
You call him a bum
Doesn't matter where he has come from
Wasn't his choice to be on the street.
Living without no heat
That man you see
That man is me
Dreams that were mine
My light did shine
Once upon a time
Before life became a crime
I sought to reach so much higher
Then life became so dire
Lost all I had
Made me so sad
Not because I was bad
Just the way it goes
Who knows
One day to the next
Life gets taken out of text
A ...I love you to late
Or to early if on the first date
Great
I sit and make words rhyme
So give me a Nickle give me a dime
Give me a moment of your time
I have nothing yet I have so much
Sometimes hungry for the human touch
I still reach so very high
Failure still.makes me cry
But still I try
I ask still
Can your heart even feel
This is me this is you
So true
We are him
We are them
One moment in time
A misspoken rhyme
A step to late
Changes of fate
Love Lost
Whatever the pain cost
Tears in the wind
Wherever they may send
A kind heart
That fell apart
This is what life has shown
what life has sown
Kindness as you pass by
You may be there next to cry
Warmth comes from more than just heat
When living on that street
Don't bow out in defeat
Teardrops fall
Yet stand tall
Life steadily changes
Words rearranges
Never to late
To make your own fate
“Does my bum look big in this”
Now, be careful what you say
Just a single wrong word
Could spoil a lovely day
“No, my dear it’s lovely
Your looking pretty trim
I don’t know how you do it
You always look so slim”
I think I got away with it
That’s put her at her ease,
She’s looking in the mirror now
Don’t look too closely, please!
Too late, she’s checking out her rear
Her bottom she’ll inspect
And if she isn’t happy
I’ll get it in the neck
“I like this dress, I’ll take it”
“Thank god” for that, I say
Now that shopping’s over
It’ll be a smashing day
© John W Fenn 08-01-2009
She's home, She's home
I'm no longer alone
I'll show her I love her
she'll put down her phone
With a jump and a lick
Maybe do a small trick
She'll get out my lead, but remind me
"Well have to be quick"
I see them, I see them
But wait who is that
The one standing there
With the captivating stare
They're not as fast as me
But its fun just to see
We roll over backwards
nose's face plant the grass
Rufus the big soppy softy
But looks mean and harsh
If only she'd walk over
I could sniff her bum
No not just for fun!
I could tell if we've ever met before
I think we have but i'm not quite sure
Curiosity gets the better of me
I dash over to her at lightning speed
I sniff her nose, her ears and toes
Shall i attempt it
OK, here goe's
But shes already there
the one with the stare
She then licked my face
And showed no grace
Pinning me to the floor
It happened with such haste
Now I remember
We have met before
Shes the one with the smelly paw.
Bum..blebees
On a warm, spring day
in…… May,
when there’s a hum
from the bum…blebees,
PLEASE,
just freeze
and……..listen!
For on that warm, spring day
in….May
that buzz and hum
does come
when young bees
are in a fret of sweat
learning their humming alphabet!
So on this warm, spring May day
when the hum of the bum..blebees
is buzzing lightly through the trees
just listen far and near,
and you’ll definitely hear
the humble, bum...blebees
practising their humming a,b,c’s.
They may, at times,
rumble or stumble
even jumble!
But a monotous, murmuring mumble
earns a teacher’s cross-grumble
No understanding of anything carefree;
the culprit simply removed to plan bee!
Ian Souter