Long Chick Poems
Long Chick Poems. Below are the most popular long Chick by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chick poems by poem length and keyword.
This is the tale of two little black kittens.
One has a white chest; the other, white mittens.
A boy cat, a girl cat, they have simple names:
These two, Bat and Gat, are of Hero Cat fame.
Though not very old, they have storied pasts;
The tales of these critters have spread far and fast.
So if you’ve a moment, come set for a spell,
And we’ll do our best to provide a quick tell.
It all started out with a flight to Ukraine,
And zombified rats that were raging, insane.
There’s the one where they saved a kid goat named Split
Using mountain cat screams through an old drainage ditch.
Or maybe an unwelcome picnic day guest:
A snake who sneezed pepper, got rattled, and left.
The story of Blueberry’s rescue’s contagious:
With Juno’s help, scared dogs away from her cages.
“Oh, come on!” you are thinking, “Just simply tall tales!”
Perhaps you’d believe, if you knew the details.
For these little cats have black magical powers;
They’ve spellbound my grandkids for several hours.
There’s the time when, while rafting, they fell in the lake,
And the great lurking turtle showed up for their sake.
Or maybe the time when they took the squirrels’ nuts?
Admitting their error: that really took guts.
My favorite is likely the old chicken thief,
And building the Tar Chick to give that coon grief.
At last, there's Bat’s failure to launch to the moon;
He’s healed from his wounds, won’t attempt that one soon.
These days Bat and Gat just hang out with the kids;
Did they really do this? My grands said they did!
————-
FIRST PLACE WINNER
For the Black Cat Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Liguori
Written 03/23/2022
In the dark dawn, I saw a lovely face , Was she my mother, father or someone else ? , The familiar face looked at me so deep and close She kissed me on my small forehead.
Oh, what a spontaneous touch It was! , It brought me into the conscious world, I realised the meaning of real birth ,
And my face had blossomed like a flower .
She gently took me and put me in her lap , I became a chick under motherly protection, Oh god, what a wonderful affection she had ,
Like a mother hen that hatched her first chick .
She spelled something into my little ear,
What was she trying to tell me? , I didn't know because I was an infant, And I knew only to see, sense and suck.
I prefer them a bit tattered and tired.
(a slow lick on a hard knife edge).
A midnight she-cat, sparkling like a pinwheel.
The kind that makes you obsess about
why they're one hour and five minutes late.
Why their mascara is off center.
Why they have that strange, strong scent.
I like them a little mousy,
a little off the beat.
A chick that can spit with class.
Kick the living MAN out of me.
A fireball that contorts and concocts,
attends to every want and need...
(You all know what I mean).
Admittedly, what I really need is periwinkle predictability.
A Crisco-oiled apron, the one mamma used to don.
A deep-fried lullaby in the quiet cove of a racing mind...
I want to go way back into Crayola Crayon time.
TWINKLE TWINKLE
Twinkle trinkle little pig,
Eat your slops so you’ll grow big.
Be you sow or be you boar,
You must eat a whole lot more.
Twinkle twinkle little pig,
Eat your slops so you’ll grow big.
Twinkle twinkle little chick,
Eat your corn and grow up quick.
Be you free-range or intense,
Very soon you’ll be immense.
Twinkle twinkle little chick,
Eat your corn so you’ll grow quick.
Twinkle twinkle calves and lambs,
Chew heartily; build up the grams.
Be you early, be you late,
Very quickly put on weight.
Twinkle twinkle calves and lambs,
Chew heartily; build up the grams
Twinkle, if you only knew,
We would soon be eating you.
Be you white or be you red,
We’ll be waiting when you’re fed.
Twinkle, if you only knew,
We would soon be eating you.
Parody of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star"
8th May 2023
Mother Goose Grows Up poetry Contest
Sponsor - Miranda Hawley
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty was having a ball!
Got too excited and took a bad fall.
So all the Kings horses and all the Kings men,
considered scrambled eggs for breakfast again...
But suddenly, from across the Way,
Chicken came running and shouted HEY!
Stop you crazy men there,
that's my Uncle's empty chair!
What kind of non-sense is in the air?
You can't have eggs scrambled,
you can't have eggs green,
my Uncle isn't breakfast!
Where HAS your mind been?
No show! Said the Cat, who seconds that!
Running behind almost losing his Hat...
Where have you been? This is really obscene.
I insist that Humpty be fixed by Bat!
Brilliant said the Egg, who returned to the road.
I'll hail the CAB, you gather the load...
A fix is all that's needed right here...
Bat will mend Uncle, said Chicken's cheer.
Meanwhile and back at the Wall,
where Humpty lay, shattered by the fall...
All the Kings horses and all the Kings men,
gave thought to themselves and a time back when
they cared enough to try again..."
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
And the Magician watched from across the road,
Her heart broken from the spill of that load.
The help was on and the spectators cheerful...
But the Kings men almost seem tearful.
"They've forgotten their Way...
and with light in their eyes,
it was clear as day."
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
The cane came down across His Hat...
Just in case, She second that...
Humpty's reconstruction an important Act.
A tough road for that Chick & Cat...
The CAB enroute, brings Humpty to Bat.
It's Hard doing bad knowing you wanna do good
I'd be lying If I said hustlin & robbing
but if I could take away my sins
at the blink of an eye
God knows I would I cross my heart and hope to die
It's hard to be faithful to another chick
after you got ya feelings played wit
so now you messing wit any and every chick
even got M.O.B. tatted on ya wrist
ya boys tell you to strap up but you think they just hating
who would've knew you'd catch some something
from ya main girl now you a H.I.V. patient
It's hard being celibate when you been
searching for that right one
it seems you want more for yourself
you wanna family maybe a lil daughter or son
what can you do for yourself locked in prison?
make yourself a promise
to stay away from the unnecessary sinning
Stranger
I never really met him
But I know him
I know his face in profile
The furrows of his brow
I’ve seen it enough times
At Barnes & Noble browsing Asimov
I’ve seen him
Leaving the loft
Watched his hands
Holding the door
For his momma at the beauty parlor
He always tips the stylist who frosts his mamma’s grays
The other day I just missed him
Leaving the last row of the church pews
The handout he left behind was still warm
His pencil still on the floor beneath the ancient wooden bench
And on Tuesday, I watched him do a coffee run
for the guys at the office
I know it was him
I floated in on his Perry Ellis
He takes his coffee black with extra sugar
He goes running on Saturday mornings rain or shine
Always listening to Miles
I still hear the bass echo in the trees
He has his board meeting
Every third Thursday
I know ‘cause he always picks up his dolce suit
Every third Wednesday
Then stops for a fade
Spends an hour with his boys
If I time it just right
I might get lucky
And bump into him
Accidentally of course
I betta’ do it this Sunday
‘Cause this Monday
Is his first date
With the chick who frosts his mamma’s grays
it's a story about a henpeckked husband
that catered and spoiled
his wife.
one day he fixed her beef tougue and cabbage soup
her friend was in attendance
so she smiled and became mean and uncaring
and cursed him.
day's later when he mustered up the courage to
speak to her, her cornered him
and cursed him in the corner
not allowing him to leave.
silently he would never complain or mention
it to his friends.
one day a gentlemen in the market asked
him why does he shop
so much.
he told him, I shop to feed my family.
oh, the gentlemen said you have a family,
yes he said, a wife and twelve children.
the gentlemen looked at him strangely, for a while.
do you live near twelvestone manor, the husband said why yes I do.
oh, the gentlemen said: you're that that chick beats up
cause you wouldn't stop getting her pregant!
She was one good looking chick
Straight out of Vogue, or a Spiderman flick
Her back was straight, she had that glow
Blonde hair, green eyes, healthy head to toe
And she had a fixation, that fixation was me
My heart jumped, I wanted to agree
But then I realized the attraction was an illusion
An evolution induced mental confusion
To exist our genes need reproduction
So they evolved romance, not to mention seduction.
I looked at her and thought "she may look great.
but she's descended from a monkey, a large-brained primate
And though what I feel may be infatuation
Internally, it's just a mental computation.
"Take away the hair, color the eyes brown
Remove your species privilege, you'll feel like a clown
Internal opiates, and a hormonal stew,
Without internal messengers, what is she to you?
So said to her "Babe, go back to your former beau"
Wasn't he Jimmy the knife, and wasn't his life low?
I just can't date you, after thinking out loud
I've lost the mystery, it's all a pall and a shroud
No romantic haze, no mystical link
The magic left your gaze, I'm just left to overthink.
She replied, "My Dad's is Vinny "the vacuum" Vortellini:
You say no to me, he'll make you into Linguini
You're my choice, and you must understand
Your opinion doesn't matter, you're mired in quicksand.
I looked at her again, I saw the psychopath beneath
But oh, that blonde hair, those eyes, and those perfect teeth!
I'm just a primate too, I realized inside.
So I jumped out the window and committed suicide.
So all you men, you need to comprehend
A lovely woman can bring an untimely end
It's all a trick perpetuated by DNA
You must transcend nature's imperative and disobey!
We are a tragic species caught between biology and mind
Don't let nature interfere, don't let instincts bind.
High up, in her downy nest beside her, the drying eggshell rest,
Far away the warblers seek the worms. Far away looms the summer storms,
Like letters send news the newly born. The soldier happy midst nettle thorn,
Reads the letter from peaceful ways. Far from the clatter and din, close affray—
The thickets smeared in a brothers blood sworn to survive the war aflood;
Yet life renews in the quiet wood where sings a sparrow 'neath a leafy hood.
Where rain rivulets dripped from pouring skies, raining down like meteors upon the dragon flies,
The overlapping ringlets atop the welling mere, lessen as the skies grow ever clear,
Letting verging parents search for food, 'neath the fallen leaves and bramble-wood:
Will their eyes delight as home they alight? The stars shudder o’er war as envelopes night,
Silent the moon drifts upon the waving tide. Streaking silver light that truth divide.
What cause can make right the drear of war. The chick, her beak agape, wanting more—
The sparrow regurgitates from some endless core. The dying soldier promises his love evermore;
He clasp the letter, wishes things were better. Rolls peals of thunder from inclement weather—
The grove hides away father, mother, and child. The slake of war wanders forth ever wild.
Nature howls with thunder when she cries. War sees not her tearing eyes—