Long Chop suey Poems

Long Chop suey Poems. Below are the most popular long Chop suey by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chop suey poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Writing On the Wall

There was an orange tanned douchebag called Trump

		Playing hero on a bicycle pump

			When inflating his Ego

				Before sorting the Lego

		The great wall crushed with a flatulent thump


	London BoJo called Muslims a post box

		Surely they spread contagion and small pox

			We must rule the waves

				Or else we'll be slaves

		In isolation stranded on dry docks


	Blame it on Putin and that Xi Jingpin

		Produce a fake red yellow catarrh spin

			Those bastards won't mind

				Just one of a kind

	Virus Vodka in a chop suey tin

	
        Mexicans count their left over last grace

		With Europe a mere historical phase

			China meets Russia

				As fake news' crusher

	Xenophobes leave their vile virulent taste


	Poets scribe of idiots in power

		Just ink on sheets no Ivory Tower

			Peace from a kind pen

				Once more and again

	United in truth and scripted power


05th April 2020
Form: Limerick


I Do Or Do I

We went to a Chinese restaurant, but couldn’t get a seat
The waiter found us a table, and said we were in for a treat.
A wedding party was booked, he said, we would join them
We decided to say  yes, sat down and waited and then…

The waiters rushed out, the bride arrived, resplendent in a gown of white
A creation that was gorgeous, her tattooed shoulders caught the light
No groom was there by her side, just a pageboy and three bridesmaids
The page a little boy of five suddenly on his way he got waylaid…

A tank of fish by the door, amused the bored little boy
Especially when he threw his car in, it was his ‘must behave toy.’
The best man arrived; he saw the bride, he whispered in her studded ear
She banged the table with her fist, there was no doubt we all could hear.,,

"The ‘bast*** I am sick of him, and you are the one to blame
You should have stopped him getting drunk, god why did I take his name?
Get the kids off the floor, get that car out of the tank of fish?
When their father gets here, get them to bring the Chop Suey wedding dish…"

The groom arrived looking abashed, his tie slung over his shoulder
“Get these bloody kids controlled or they’ll not get very much older.”
The bride jumped up and raised her dress, not only her garter did we see
She raised her dainty black jack boot, and kicked him in the knee…

"They are your bloody kids you know, and if you don’t control them soon 
I’m telling you right now- we are not going on our honeymoon."
By this time all of us began to thank, the waiters for finding us a seat
They had not been wrong when they told us, we were in for a wonderful treat...


A True Story 
© ~GG~ 20/11/2012
Form: Quatrain

The Ranch Hand's Babies, Part 2 of 3

Sixties Secret Agent

In black and orange inks
some wag had stenciled,
"no need for tests -
for use on dinks".

Gung-ho. Can-do.
Make war, not love.
You hit puberty, and find
you're the biggest kid on the block.
Time to throw some weight around.
Buy yourself a Glock.

Damn this forest.
They don't play fair.
We'll catch 'em in the open
with our phosphorescent flares.

We invented cocaine drinks,
electric chairs, chop suey -
let's have us a little think:
claymores, napalm, hueys.

If only we could find a way
to murder all these trees:
if all this life were scalded, flayed,
and shriveled till it dropped away,
poisoned, sickly, palsied, grey,
then Charlie, skulking somewhere
out there
would show up in our lenses' stare
and we could bring our guns
to bear.
So. Get it done.
Form: Rhyme

The Whole Kit and Kaboodle

Unless it's an Indian gift from the karmic sky-gypsies
it’s not going to last.

Maybe you have lots of it,
but sooner or later
the 'told you so' pigmy bobble-heads of Mu
will make it known to you
that they are watching your every distracted move,
and their taking receipts
back to long abandoned thrift shops.

Amazon's plastic chop suey
will keep you spinning in circles like a drunk skunk.

The very wealthy flush it 2 times
just to clear their own much trapped crap.

Stuff is also for the downtrodden masses,
who renovate it to fit their cramped lifestyles.

In the end it’s all utter clutter
that digs the captive soul
deeper and deeper.

Best to gather together what no one wants
then wait,
until inevitably -
they do.

Premium Member Dreamer Lessons

If you want dreamer lessons you need to speak to Rufaliotwoey.
I wondered about this, for I had heard she was smooth as Chop Suey.
She knows more about imagination land than any other of our kind.
She has a whimsical, magical, up and down kind of mind.

She’s currently teaching a dream works class up those stairs.
She is honest, hardworking, down to earth, does not put on airs.
She is in touch with her child like self, more than others about.
Go up and see her, she is the one with the harbinger snout.

I ran up the stairs but stopped abruptly right at the door.
The entire class was snoring away, lying down on the bare floor.
Astral travel must have been going on all over the room.
The spirits of the participants flew past me in a high gear, a zoom.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Tell'in all, of penny wong '

She is a sop to insanity, a foreign minister that sounds off like a gong.' With such alien love
She is imbued, of all things strange.' And imported shoes..' all the time she's been around, we've watched living Aussies driven into the ground' hope assailed and
Men denigrated, women disenfranchised
My nerves; are by now raw grated, i've known cross-eyed mongrels, with a better view; of
Aussie values, ya-know? just things true blue..Like safe streets. And parks' like beaches and lakes, instead its
 The chop-suey
Only;  menu..Or an empty plate, I'll swear she trading noodles, for spaghetti sticks
As albo, creams of millions..
Its sick sick sick.' And things really won't
 get better.' All the time this
Wong one, keeps.' Sending off; all
 those loaded red letters.'
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Spoon and Knife

She said she'd make some sandwiches,
he told her he could do it better.
She said, “Here, I’ve fixed some cold cuts!”
All he said was, “nuts!”

She told him she could cook Chinese
he told her he could do it better.
She said, “Here, I made Chop Suey!”
All he said was, “phooey!”

So then she thought she’d take him out
he still thought he could do it better.
When the waiter brought roast duck
All he could say was, “yuck!”

She thought perhaps dessert would cheer him
though he still thought he’d do better.
She bought pints of chocolate mint
All he said’s not fit to print.

And so they married, Spoon and Knife -
she lived to feed him; he to cut her.
With that spoon, she dug her grave
But truth be told, he did it better.
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Get Over It Or Take a Bus

You got what you needed
even though
it was an Indian gift from the karmic sky-gypsies.

“It was never enough for you was it?”
The 'told you so’ pigmy bobble-heads of hippo-Maya
declared with a wink.

Let it be known
that the bedazzling chop suey
of Chinese phooey
will keep you spinning in circles
like a topless drunk.

Wealthy Cats stick it up your nose
and tread on your toes on the way out.
They call it charity, but they also flush 2 times
so the crap takes an extra lap.

The Dancing Masters of Wu
commend you for your patience
and forbearance,
but that is certainly not enough
or is it?

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