Long Cartoon Poems
Long Cartoon Poems. Below are the most popular long Cartoon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cartoon poems by poem length and keyword.
The young boy was pale,
He walked slowly in the alley
No. 41.His skeleton hand hold a rusted tin can.
He was in business,for him it was.
On his innocent face,
In a modern world,who really forgotten
Kids like him was also human too.His eyes
Pasted on a piece of bread on the dirty pavement.
On his side was tall buildings,on the other was a busy EDSA.
A dove whose feather blacken by the third world metropolis,
Peeped down from the lamp post,
Measuring the distance of the bread on the ground
Look at the child,inclining its head side ward,
Then,their eyes meet,resting on each other stare
Like eternity,
And it flew toward the blinding sun.
The boy saw a man approached,
Polished shoes landed on his lunch
The gold Rolex,tailored clothes,big ring,
A heavy necklace hung loosely on beefy neck.
Surprised on a sudden hand that raised on his way,
"Move out!" bellowed angrily,then scurried quickly on a green traffic
light. "Fool..."the boy sighed.
Business is business,he thought,as he reached out the crushed bread
Uttered a little prayer,ate it religiously with tears on his eyes.
Every bite he remembered his little brother he left this morning
on their cartoon box house
At Smokey Mountain outside Manila,its smoke ascend forever
Till the end of time,because of the corrupt lordship in kings palace
His little brother burned at stake alive waiting for his pancit.
His father was an inmate at Bilibid prison selda katorse (14)
His mother was a girl in the street.
Then an old woman came out at the Binondo Church.
Walked briskly as the wind swept the dusk on summer days.
Stopped,a discolored dirt hand spread for an alms.
Irritated,she rummaged her purse,and gently place the one peso
on the boys hand,made sure to slow her movement,maybe the rest
Were looking at her, she raised her brow and smile
"Of course.", she said sweetly
Father hope will see this act she thought that
Might mention her name in homily,Mrs. Cerbo was kind to the poor.
He spit the coin and swipe it on his dirty torn shirt
And say..."God Blessed Maddame."
Then he ran at the little Sari-sari store
Brought a piece of bread,break it into halves
He hid his share on his pocket
Then tossed the half on the side walk
When the boy had gone, blue wing landed
Ate with pride and thinking, "stupid boy..stupid boy..".
But the lover he knew this would not be enough
In such games as romance the going will get rough
And his youth had not abandoned him yet
Such failures monumental he would not so soon forget
And all had been less than this goddess on earth
No other had touched his heart so since birth
So amidst the glorious dreams of love in spring
The icy chill of doubt began to take its wing
The mirror told truths he’d never liked to hear
When faced with himself he’d rather disappear
Than bear witness to what he saw as a goon
A common ugly brute, spawned from a cartoon
With his disproportioned limbs and pessimistic hunch
Never had Ryan stood out from the bunch
His muscles had weakened from ailments past
And his metabolism sadly had deserted him too fast
His green eyes burned fiercely for his love had not gone
And sleep seldom reached him until long after dawn
Ruminating at length on the woman he desired
Wrecked his body and wracked his mind so tired
Could she ever love one as common as I?
He asked many times neath the midnight blue sky
His answer proved negative on most mornings young
And the tears had scarcely left him when the first sparrow sung
At last, the abused and depressed young pup
Decided he would go out on the town and drink up
Pounding beers with no regard for the consequences thus
Leaving him to stagger, cry, and flirt and cuss
And as sudden as the sun blooming on the skyline
The lovely Lyla was there, alone and looking quite fine
In an instant all sorrow was cleansed from his mind
And convinced him once more no greater love would he find
On that evening with conscious sobered by passion
My old friend took to speaking in a serious fashion
Only I was there to listen to his marvelous speech
Of the intensity he possessed, I know I cannot teach
With a storm gently rolling on a westward winter wind
The dark haired young man, chilled and quite pale skinned
Turned to me slowly with the look in his eye
That told I would recall this moment till I die
“Tonight,” he began, “I have chosen to wait
For this woman I love until some later date
And I shall stay to this, if months or years may pass
If that is the price of being worthy of the lass
If I must stand by and watch others lay
By her drunken side, while I have no say
And hundreds will flirt and many win a kiss
So I will remain in a life without bliss
As you see, hear a few moments later a funny looking Huckleberry Hound dopey little dog
cartoon the families all time favorite as the children snicker, and everyone there comes
in the room just in time and laughs together. With our dog cocking her head slightly and
barking with us. As our kitten Timid whacks at her ears stops again and chases her wagging
tail, hysterically.
And I tell you if it is all I can do to cherish the freshness of these things, friend I
will. I tell you I've already won.
My baby's laughter there in the highchair clapping with his superman bottle sitting in his
diaper splashing away all over Him listening to Dave Matthew's' It's Not Easy To Be Me
waving it in one hand as he shimmy's and rocks too and fro to the beat of the ambiance of
the new day, yes, reminds me ... .
Our Oreo cookie looking kitten named pounce, playing alone today now there
in-the-rain. How everything from birth has remained so curious to him. His
resilience as he laid there with her saying goodbye ... . As Gracie his sister just passed
on, yesterday. So I feel fate brings us to this opportunity, gentle mercy, tender beauty,
purest of goodness, when willing, everyday. Though even we do, or do not pray.
Like the perfect feel of those glorious tender kisses. Sweet caresses flying footballs
bike riding scuffed up knees tender love and band aids humming-birds-humming.
As-they-hover by the honey water feeders. The dog barking Pounce and Timid playing with
their super bouncy ball bouncing around whimsically too and fro. The Mango Chicken
Surprise chicken in the Set-It-and-Forget it rotisserie. Slippery wet feet legs flung up
swinging arms and tossing shoes loud thunks of your older swimmer Son slipping coming in
from His morning workout on the linoleum floor being just freshly mopped right bye the
back door.
As Mama cries out ""sorry Son" the dog or cat peed and you yell too"" You alright", and he
yells back frustrated "Whatever!" "This is a crazy family"! "I want out" Let me out"! And
yes some other real good humor I cannot really hear right now, and as well yes I feel he
is like Jim Carry and Robin Williams and a lot like me and my morning coffee.
Still being drank all throughout whatever heat of the day.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWJVmk8s9NU&playnext=1&list=PLAAF17CBEBB7C3D44&index=78
Twas the night before Christmas and all were in need
as we waited for Santa who had promised us Weed.
Our parents were sleeping with not a clue in their heads
that their children were Stoners and away from their beds.
The cheetos had been placed on the table with care
with an idea dear Santa soon would be there.
The winter was cold with no time for a snack
hoping Kris Kringle would come with fresh Pot from his sack.
I had been to the Bank and had obtained hordes of cash
with a fervent desire St. Nick would bring the best of his Stash.
We had our concerns for a reasonable fellow
who was honest and straight... no harshing our mellow.
The time had been set as I looked at the clock
knowing the waiting was tense and we needed our Pot.
And then from the porch a strange sound did we hear
but it was only friend Jim who had gone for some beer.
I stared out the window and peered through the snow
and we were greatly concerned whether Santa would show.
And then from the street... what did I observe?
A '72 ford Pinto... which was stuck on the curb.
The engine was smoking and the tires were flat
and with the windows quite frosted... I reached for my bat.
This didn't look good as I gave way to doubt.
Wondering who was the driver and who would come out?
And who should come forth? But Santa himself
who was all bearded and fat, a jolly old Elf.
He climbed to our rooftop... was nimble and quick
thus avoiding the doorbell... this fella was slick.
He was now in the chimney and this lightened our hearts
and we knew he was close when we heard the Elf fart.
And then in an instant the Big Guy appeared
but asking double the price for which we had feared.
We told him our troubles as he pondered our point,
he then lowered the price on every third Joint.
The payment was made and the dope was obtained
and up the chimney he rose unconcerned for the flame.
I'll remember that night... for it was a doozy
when Santa came through... and brought me a Doobie.
As he drove out of sight... I heard him calling my name...
Merry Christmas to all and goodnight Mary Jane.
The End
*For those who are interested. I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day.
Johnny Cash gives it away for free,
John K says he would like to be Prez.
Richard Nixon will run against him,
so the republican party says.
Lamar Cox gets 44th KO,
‘The Stilt’ scores 58 in one game.
In high school Heater’s 135,
gives him claim to some basketball fame.
Presley says goodbye to the Army,
and is back on the recording scene.
X-15 sets a new record height,
‘Sit-in’ becomes protesting’s new thing.
Queen ‘Liz says they’re the ‘House of Windsor,’
“Unsinkable Moly Brown” goes down.
The first Playboy Club hits Chicago,
Ebbit Field is knocked down to the ground.
A 9.6 quake in Morocco,
takes more than 15000 poor souls.
Another sends Hawaii a wave,
kills over 17000 more.
Cardinals move to Saint Louie,
Chicago White Sox wear their new threads.
Oversized mitt designed for catchers,
will keep their hands from turning all red.
USSR says they’ll stop testing,
Krushchev bangs on the desk with his shoe.
Lasers will light up the science world,
France now has an Atomic bomb too.
Satellites can now track the weather,
the court says ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ okay.
Civil Rights bill passes the senate,
new birth control pills are here to stay.
‘We shall overcome’ is new anthem,
but not at the riots in Jacksonville.
MLK gets jailed in Atlanta,
while preaching for equality still.
Senate investigates “Payola,
Alan Freed’s one of the 9 accused.
Meanwhile over in Comensky Park,
their new exploding scoreboard debuts.
Americans pay high earnings tax,
John K and Nixon go for the throat.
They debate 4 times on our TV,
before Kennedy gets the most votes.
Say hello to Aretha Franklin,
Chubby Checker has us in a twist.
Huckleberry Hound wins an Emmy,
Cassius Clay is the best with his fists.
A jet hits 2000 MPH,
California cops say UFO.
The atomic reactor is born,
Flintstone’s is the next hit cartoon show.
Lee, Richard and Maurice Petty go,
against each other in the same race.
Richard beats his brother and daddy,
which gives racing world a new face.
Paul and Best kicked out of Germany,
we are not really sure what they did.
Clarabelle speaks in her final show,
simply voices the words, “Goodbye Kids”.
The world’s moving faster and higher,
technology seems to have no cap.
Back in Wakenda, at 3 years old,
I’m still taking an afternoon nap.
Some people give the illusion
there is widespread confusion
as to what constitutes the meaning of life.
But I was taught by my brother...
or was it my Mother?
It has a lot to do with the handling of strife.
A Child should be taught
that it's fine to be fraught
when trials and doubt cause reflection.
But no matter the slump
you'll get a strong bump
when surrounded by those with affection.
You are inclined to be less wary
even though the world is scary
when supported by family and friends.
And when you love one another
and even better... a significant other
you'll find the journey starts to really transcend.
But the meaning you seek
will not give you relief
if you fail to be prudent and wise.
You'll find life a lot tougher
and thus exceedingly rougher
to make sense of the things you despise.
You will find you're life will worsen
when you're not a good person
and unsure of how to do what is right.
You should seriously be leaning
towards only the things that have meaning
to improve your situation and plight.
How does a person start?
I guess I would slowly depart
from activities where you get angry and riled.
And become a far greater force
by changing your course
and become a much better Parent, Friend or Child.
Once you get a handle on strife...
You'll find the meaning of life
is to help others become a bit stronger.
And once you're a person complete
you can love all you meet
and not fear the meaning of life any longer.
But to those... who thrive on strife
to mess up their life
it's only fair to give you a clue.
So you'll be happy to know
where the wild things grow
and thus the answer is a crisp 42.*
The End
*A computer was fed all the relevant data to determine the meaning of life and came back with the answer 42. It is also the number used in 'A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' in their search for the meaning of life.
*Written for the poetry contest on the 'Meaning of Life' sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke.
*For those who are interested. My cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle' can be seen on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day.
I struck out on my own around a year old
life was so full of fun, so many things with
which to play, a leaf scuttling by, a rustle
in the undergrowth. I was enthralled.
I stood on a road watching intently
a little mouse. A car shot past bowling
me over and slicing off half of my tail.
It stung like hell and dripped blood.
Finding a cool stream I placed my tail
within, oh the blessed relief I knew
I had been lucky, one life now done.
My next life also flashed by as
hunter became prey, I ran for
my life from a pack of hungry
wolves barely escaping their
razor sharp fangs and hot breath.
Fishing for salmon I ventured
in too deep and got swept away
tumbling through rapids, banging
into rocks lucky to be washed ashore.
Bedraggled I lie in the sun
I swallowed way more water
than I drink in two days.
Shivering as I dry off.
Maybe four is the charm
as now I am much wiser.
Oh no I followed my nose
to an enticing exciting smell.
It led me straight into a mire
churned up by rooting pigs
I was being sucked down
exhausted I finally lay still.
Well a miracle happened
the muddy slime released
its deathly grip and I was
able to slowly wriggle free.
What a state my fur was in
muddy slime all over me
only one thing to do and
that's take a hated bath.
As I rolled in the shallows
I felt a change in pressure
and ran for my life chased
by angry snapping jaws.
Piranhas I had disturbed
Nearly ripped to shreds
I slipped away to rest up.
Unfortunately as I drifted
off I started getting stung
I was under attack from
angry bees I was lying
right over their hive.
Fast as a streak I headed
yet again for the river
and dunked myself again
and again till they were gone.
Seven lives already used up
and I was still only three years.
A few years past uneventfully
I am getting the hang of things.
One dark stormy night
sheltering in a leafy tree.
It got hit by lightning
knocking me to the ground.
Fur still burning I looked
a real fright, a cartoon cat
with hair on end whilst all
I really wanted was a quiet life.
Well I have used up eight
of my nine. I now mainly
sleep my days away. The
urge of adventure quietly rests.
My day will come soon
now as age takes its toll.
I am stiff and nearly blind
so I lay down a final time.
Black and blue boo boo bruises courtesy hurled Bobo box
No matter I sustained multiple contusions about the face and neck and minor head concussion after the missus tossed an unopened box of five apple pie stuff'd oat bites in my direction (what got whisked - as clocked by yours truly at lightspeed), nevertheless (whew), no permanent damage prevailed regarding the cherished goods.
While recuperating in the hospital bed,
I decided to craft incident report,
(yet refuse to implicate the missus)
quickly letting fingers
skitter across keyboard
couched with divine intervention,
cuz yours truly nearly got declared dead,
thus the following words quickly typed
before creative juices fled
despite skeptical readers,
who might immediately deduce
that I rightly ought to be
declared out of my talking head
thankful caring empowered
stalwart connections qua invaluable friends
gifted with emergency lifeline when pitted
with suicidal ideations, predilections,
utilizations fostering existential crisis,
hence resilience taught to thwart
self harmful and hurtful modus operandi
thru the dogma, ethos,
and faith of worthiness
and in remembrance of JED,
(whose founders lost
above mentioned son to suicide),
thus inadvertently halting epidemic,
whereby teens and young adults
offered mental health resources
by building resiliency and life skills,
promoting social connectedness,
and encouraging help-seeking
and help-giving behaviors
through nationally recognized programs,
digital channels, and partnerships,
as well as through the media
spreading the word
to cope against desire to annihilate self
(think nihilistic existentialism)
receiving immediate access
to forge an excellent outlook
reliable material broadcast
across social media platforms
exemplifying and identifying linkedin
ingenious and innovative modus operandi
such as promulgating hotline
flown like the goodyear blimp
videre licet zeppelin made of lead
clearly displaying credo
(which unfortunately never came to my aid -
just another statistic courtesy anorexia nervosa)
summed up as Ned:
A character education program that uses a cartoon character named NED to promote kindness and excellence in schools. NED is an acronym for "Never give up, Encourage others, and Do your best".
"Camptown Races sing this song, Do Dah! Do Dah!"
( sung incessantly by a certain, unique rooster.)
Henry Hawke: ( Sung to Holly Jolly Christmas:)
" I'll be there and back by sunset.
There's a chicken there for me!
Mom and Dad will be proud, you bet!
when a chicken, they'll see!"
Henry: ( Sung to Arkansas Traveler:)
" I think that there's a chicken, yes, indeed!
No need to check, that's a chicken, yes, siree!
I know that that's a chicken , yes, indeed!
Even though he has a snout for pecking at the seed!"
POW! ( cue woozy music.)
Barnyard Dog:
Hey, wait a minute, kid!
Have you flipped your lid!"
Henry:
" I hit you a good one and I'm the winner!
Now come along with me! You're what's for dinner!"
Barnyard Dog:
" Eh, kid.. I'm a dog, don't you get it!
Now, scram! Before I make you regret it!"
" Camptown races, sing this song..
I say , I say.. it's not the words,
son, it's the song
It kind of.. eh, moves me along, err.."
Henry:
" Oh, the shame!
The family name!
Life for me will never be the same!"
Barnyard Dog:
" Someone's given you the bum steer!"
He looks at Henry crying.
" Kind of gets you right here..
Tell ya, what, kid!
I'll give you a real clucker with all the feathers!
Now listen to me, the sooner the better.." Pss. psst. pss..
"Camptown Races, Uhh, oh, I say, I say..
What do we have here?!
An unholy alli, alli alli, joining together.
and the word is ..Beware!"
I say, son!
What are, what are you doing here
in my little slice of paradise?!"
Henry:
"Ehh, Mister Cock-a-Doodle Doo..
I'd turn around if I were you!"
"Heh, heh heh..
Obviously, this boy believes
that I was born yesterday
if not the day before!
Let me lead him on a little more.."
"Just what am I supposed to see, there, ehh, son?
The rising moon? The setting sun? Heh, Heh, Heh.."
BAM!
"I, I, I think I've been way layed.
I, I, better look for some shade.."
PLOP!
"That boy's got more nerve than a bum tooth!
ehh, that's a joke, son!
Miss Prissy! My my time has come too soon!"
Eeee, THUD!
Henry and Barnyard Dog( together.):
"Geez, What a maroon!"
Cue the Looney Tunes end music.
(" Eer.. That's your cue, son!")
" Can't find no good cartoon help these days!" THUD!
THAT'S ALL FOLKS!
There are meanderings who itch and creep
To fill my night with dread.
There are cataclysms where I cringe and cower
That are better left unsaid
And there's an apparition to slake my very soul
Standing menacingly aside my bed.
A miasmal shadow whose form and substance
Seems porous with a brooding discontent.
A vaporous spook from a now empty hoary grave
Crying out some death-bed held lament.
I tremble at this ghastly wretched haunting unsure
How to appease this ghoulish malcontent.
Is it an harbinger of some impending doom
That awaits me in the night?
Or a bleak warning of a tenebrous dark abyss
In dire need of an earthborn sacrifice?
Or a horrific memory of a forgotten transgression
I have conveniently put away from sight?
Its eyes lock in a gaze of sinister desperation
As I search for some meaning to aspire.
But what I see leaves me morose and sullen
As the reflection broods a hellish brimstone fire.
And I turn away with a feeling of minacious fear
Not knowing the spirit's saturnine desires.
This haggard phantom stretches its bony claw
And wails like a banshee twice possessed.
Pointing an accusing finger in my direction
With some long held grievance to address.
It screams in hideous tones, "Beware! Beware!"
Which it most fervently expressed.
"Beware! Beware!" It howls in repressed anger
As I rest my weary eyes.
And through the night it wallows in acute agony...
Lashing out a mournful cry.
But I eventually grow somewhat accustomed
And it becomes a type of doomsday lullaby.
The days and weeks are now three long years
And it continues its nightly shrieking of regret.
But no one said creatures from the spirit-world
Would be straightforward or direct.
I am at an impasse with this ghostly apparition
And remain confused and quite perplexed.
I am oblivious to whatever spectral information
This bit of ectoplasm seems to know.
And the creature appears in no discernible hurry,
But to be honest... I would miss its nightly show.
So until we come to a far better understanding...
I have a place to hang my clothes.
The End
*Follow my cartoon on Webtoon Bob's your Uncle.