Long Chuckled Poems
Long Chuckled Poems. Below are the most popular long Chuckled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chuckled poems by poem length and keyword.
She bares the marks of a life lived hard, her face the giveaway. Faint scar above her brow, chipped tooth, deep furrows that should be gentle crow feet to compliment her gorgeous eyes. She used to be pretty, now a concrete blonde of fading beauty. Named Roberta as a baby, but the few, privy to this information have since taken it to the grave, to all who ebb and flow from her life, simply Bobby.
Bobby wandered into town, who knows when. Her faded blue jeans slid forward on the weathered wooden bench outside the general store. From the recesses of her mind, she could recall only one occasion from her childhood when a dress draped her lanky frame. She hated it so much it was unceremoniously discarded, playing outside in her nickers at a 10th birthday party. From that day forward, only jeans. She never wore jewellery, her only adornment was a tarnished belt buckle sitting over the top of her Buckskin shirt. Bobby’s battered hat sat propped over her knee, she held a Coke as she waited on the bench.
It had been more than half a century since he saw Bobby. The pained, memory of her hair swaying, catching the golden sunlight on her back as he watched her walk away. Now, as he climbed the veranda, he knew it was her, faded, like his memories, but the, ever young, eyes, danced with life and he was drawn to them once again. Neither spoke as he eased his body onto the bench, their legs pinched together. A light breeze filtered through the thoroughfare, causing the rusty sandwich sign to creak and grown. He pulled his blues harp from the top pocket of his shirt and his breath eased across the chords. Bobby chuckled before she sang.
His lips stopped moving, he smiled with the realisation that at 78 years, he was trading what was left of his tomorrows for this moment in time. He slid his hand over Bobby’s and went still. Bobby held him for a long time, she sobbed. Tears flowed for a misspent life, sobbed for what could have been, sobbed at the cost of her freedom as it dawned on her that It wasn’t just another word for nothing else to lose. The floodgates opened as she truly lost.
Bobby stood on the highway, thumb out. The horizon held the ominous sign of approaching rain. An old diesel truck pulled up and she climbed aboard, she lifted the harmonica and said, “Do you want me to play?”
BUYING CONDOMS
I was desperate to buy me some condoms
On a Wednesday morning in June
My girlfriend had made me a promise
And we were meeting up that afternoon
For she'd noticed that in my frustration
My flat....which I kept fairly neat
Now had fingernail marks on the ceiling
And teethmarks on the toilet seat
So she promised an hour of pleasure
As pleasurable as it could be
She wanted fifty eight minutes
With the other two minutes for me
Now you folks are probably thinking
Splitting an hour like that was a crime
But in my mood of complete desperation
Two minutes seemed like a long time
So I stood in a queue in the chemist's
Hoping to be quite discrete
While the lady in front bought and paid for
Corn plasters to stick on her feet
And when my turn came I was gutted
I though 'this must be a joke'
For a gorgeous young girl came to serve me
I was wanting a grizzly old bloke
Embarrassed I picked up some aspirin
But her smile put me quickly at ease
She said as she took the box from me
'Would you like some condoms with these?'
'We have them in black, red or tartan
And ribbed ones to last a long time'
'Do you have a favourite flavour?
We have peppermint, strawberry or lime'
'Flavours?'........ I nervously stuttered
'Strawberry?.......'Is that what you said?'
'These things are to go on my winkie'
'Not between two slices of bread'
She chuckled away as she wrapped them
She'd decided on tartan and lime
And smiled as she gave me the packet
Then wished me a really good time
I dashed around home in a frenzy
The minutes were ticking away
My girlfriend was coming here shortly
For our sixty minutes of play
My clothes hit the floor in a heartbeat
I put on my condom with glee
And the first that she saw, as she opened the door
Was my tartan condom and me
She screamed as the door closed behind her
Her face like a deathly white mask
Then pointed and silently shuddered,
'What're you going to do with that flask?'
I chuckled 'It isn't a flask it's a condom'
Tartan and flavoured with lime'
With disgust she turned and departed
Walking out for the very last time
So my day of passion was stifled
I didn't make it as far as the bed
And as my condoms were lime flavour
I had them with corn flakes instead
Eons ago, near two flowing rivers in old China
Lived an old, white clothed man ninety-nine years of age
Who glared at two mountains he knew from his long-dead childhood
Who glared at the giants he always had dreams of
The first was a mist covered mountain, where all beasts were blind
With whispers of meaningless legends and theories
The second was a fiery mountain singing in passion
With trees and bushes with golden leaves, but no fruit
Both these mountains trapped the souls of the damned under the dirt
Both buried the light in the damp cyclical tomb
The souls were angels who defended their land from the night
Horsemen who guarded against the Prince of Darkness
The inner soul of light within the old man awakened
The youthful hoopoe bird within chirped for freedom
He began his work, to dig into the mountains themselves
He started to craft a path for all to travel
A wiser old man came up and saw the sweat raining down
And chuckled at the absurdity raining down
“Oh friend, you cannot remove one grey hair from the giants
How in heaven’s name can you crumble these mountains”
The foolish grey-haired man, singing and young in his caged heart
Said these words, roaring with his liberated mind
“My children shall tear the mountains by their blood-covered hand
My grandchildren shall destroy them with their chisels
My offspring will fight as unsleeping armies in the night
My offspring will never surrender their grand fight
The birds of the blue sky will peck the mountains piece by piece
The worms of earth will eat the fortress bit by bit”
These words reached the wise man’s inner heart beating with wonder
These words reached the sun and moon’s delicate bright souls
So the ships of light carried the message to the blue sky
The Infinite Father of Greatness and Lightness
The blue sky ripped apart the revolving grey clouds of might
The expanse of azure blue split all into two
Daylight shone in the highest firmament of dark violet
Daylight shone in the lowest crannies of Sheol
These two mountains vanished as if they were nothing at all
These two watchtowers crumbled in the gentle flames
Leaving no fortresses between the two flowing rivers
Leaving only an untouched garden, eons old
With excitement, and hearts beating with anticipation
Five of us held hands...as if declaring, "We're in this together!"...
We sped upwards,..into the clouds,...or so it seemed....
Enclosed in a silver capsule...like amateur astronauts, ...
A steel and concrete world of modern, miraculous, and amazing engineering!
Nervously, we looked at one another with the same wide eyed expressions.
"We are such country bumpkins!...."Do we look it?" I laughingly asked my husband....
"Hey, kids ! We're almost there...can you believe it??"
"We're almost to the top!!"
A soft spoken gentleman, wearing a bushy, yet neatly trimmed, mustache,
smiled and said to us...."Your first time, I can see?"..
He wore a uniform, (our host, a guide, I supposed)....he had the kindest smile.
"If you like,....I can point out places of interest for your children?"...he offered kindly.
Our three children nodded in delight.
Doors opened at last, and we stepped into a large room
We made our way through the milling crowd, and found a spot for observation.
Our mustached gentleman, chuckled when we gasped for air
As we looked for the first time at the breathtaking views
It was if we were looking down from the heavens...
City lights had just turned on, and we knew what it was like to look upon the stars...
Only, this time, they were below us...!
A magnificent city spread out before our eyes...
stunned, and speechless, we were breathless...
Our new friend pointed out Ellis Island, the bridges, Statue of Liberty...
"Oh yes", ....he said,...."over there, ....you can see almost into New Jersey"
"And there,...that is Staten Island. "Do you see the ferry?"
He charmed our young daughter, and impressed our sons with his knowledge..
Here we stood...on top of the world...inside this magnificent twin marvel....
Oh, dear God.....our innocence....who could know...?
Oh, dear God....the significance ....
one brief moment in time....
spent in the company of one kind gentleman who wore a friendly mustache
We will never forget that day................or him................. Oh, dear God....
~
Dedicated to a kind stranger....
____________________________
In honor of New York City at Dusk
Excited, and hearts beating with anticipation
five of us held hands... declaring, "We're in this together!"...
We rose into the clouds,..as fast as a bullet
In a stainless steel capsule...like amateur astronauts, ...
We looked at each another with wide eyed expressions.
"Such country bumpkins!"...."Do we look it?" I laughingly asked my husband....
Blood in our veins rushed with nervous excitement
"Hey, kids, count the floors!...Can you truly believe it?"
"Almost to the top!!" Then, they'll open the door
A soft spoken gentleman, wearing a bushy, yet neatly trimmed, mustache,
smiled and said to us...."Your first time, I can see?"..
He wore a uniform, (host, or guide, I supposed)... with the warmest smile.
"If you like,....I can point out places of interest for your children?"...he offered, kindly.
Our three children nodded in delight.
When the steel doors opened, we stepped into a large room
Making our way through the milling crowd, we found a spot for observation.
Our mustached gentleman, chuckled when we gasped for air,
then saw for the first time, the incredible views...
As if looking down from heaven...
City lights flickered on, and we knew what it was like to look upon the stars...
Only, this time, the constellations were below us...!
A magnificent city spread out before our eyes...
Stunned speechless, we were breathless...
Our new friend pointed out Ellis Island, the bridges, Statue of Liberty...
"Oh yes", ....he said,...."over there, ....is New Jersey"
"And there,...that is Staten Island. "Do you see the ferry?"
A toy it was, upon the bay.......so calm it was upon the day
He charmed our young daughter, and impressed our sons with his knowledge..
Here...on top of the world... in a magnificent twin marvel....
Oh, dear God....the innocence....of all the unknown...
Oh, dear God....the significance of what we now know...
one brief capsule of time....
in company of one kind gentleman, who wore a friendly mustache
We will never forget that day................or him................. Oh, dear God....
_________________________________________________________
True story....and dedicated to the kindness of one stranger....
...A flush of green-yellow liquid poured out
and disappeared into a large floor drain,
a fetal figure was slumped in the chamber,
and to Tom he couldn’t seem much more plain,
a human being like him, just the same…
He thought he had done it, but had no such luck,
because then, to his horror, the man stood up!
Tom stumbled back as the person stepped out,
and blathered, “But…n-no…how can this be?”
The man just chuckled when he heard Tom’s words,
said, “Yes, many people have asked that of me.”
Tom stammered, “How are you able to speak?
You should be like a child, brainless and lost.”
Said Pete, “Or maybe, your theories are off.”
But Tom still wasn’t willing to say this,
his programming still argued with his own eyes,
he said, “Who are you?” The man replied, “Jesus.
You used my blood, who did you think was inside?
I thank you for helping me to arrive.
You’re not the first Thomas was has had doubts,
I said I’d come back, but I never said how.”
Jesus then walked forwards, right to Thomas,
still as naked as the day he was cloned,
he put his hand on Tom’s shaking shoulders,
said, “Don’t’ be afraid, I’ve long called you my own,
You and your colleagues…no real faith have you known.
You think they’ll reject you, and yes, they will,
but don’t fear, I’ll show you something greater still…”
He squeezed his hand, showed the Truth to Thomas,
let him see beyond the bonds of mere time,
the past, the future, beyond reality…
the perfect gift for analytical minds,
Tom fell to his knees and whispered, “Sublime.”
Of course, Jesus helped Tom back to his feet,
then turned and smiled warmly towards Pete.
He said, “The wisest man amidst the egg-heads,
and it happens to be the janitor,
not only that, one who looks so much like
His much beloved ancient ancestor.
How could I return to Earth with no Peter?”
Said Pete, “I’ll follow, but don’t tell my dad,
he’s the kind who thinks all religion is bad.”
Jesus laughed, “Well, let’s hold out hope for him,”
then nodded towards Thomas where he stood,
“There’s plenty out there waiting for the Truth,
together we will accomplish much good.
Let us all go now, yes, we really should.
First we must seek out the others like you,
They’ve a part to play, and we’ve much work to do…”
Manila folder,
Growing older,
Lying on table,
Watching other files,
Grow bolder,
It was earlier looked upon,
Now ignored,
As if it was dead,
After a bloody gore,
They had submerged in its custody,
A lot many papers and notes,
Carrying dates and events,
About people and of people,
Some body took a decision,
And others left them for future,
It needed for a full view,
Lot of sutures,
Perplexed and seeing its capacity,
They had simply affixed a label,
And left it at storage level,
Years went by in vain,
Lot others joined it in graveyard,
Not for short but pretty long,
Saying has it that every dog has its day,
It so happened that while the manila folder lay gathering dust,
One of the persons not decided upon with in the manila,
Had grown in stature and length,
Either through effort ,luck,relation or lust,
He had reached where he was,
He beckoned all signatures in the manila,
And sought his dues,
If it was not forthcoming,
Then he waved a thick stick,
All signatures rushed to look for manila,
They raised dust and dusted files for long,
Opportunist men got their way,
And having found manila,
Gave a full blooded bay,
As they chuckled in delight,
The 'big man' came around for another fight,
Now they were scared to no end,
And turned the pages of manila,
They frantically looked,
Where they had signed and not,
Where they did not they did,
And some places where they had,
Got it erased,
Manila was theirs,
So what if 'money' was his,
Finally manila was in demand,
And used and gored,
Like a happy whore,
Manila looked askance,
At the door to graveyard,
Where it had spent years in exile,
Before getting this 'exciting while',
Then to top it all,
The Manila had its final big ball,
The day came,
When the big man came to undo his last fall,
He held the Manila lovingly in his palms,
Which were wet and warm,
In anticipation of lot of money caused calm,
His greedy and beady eyes,
Warmed each curve of manila,
As manila coyly smiled unabashedly smiles vanilla,
The swarthy and mean big man,
Saw his words,
Understood them well,
Kept them digested in mind,
Looked disdainfully,
At frightened signatures,
And voila! Tossed the manila folder,
From where he stood,
Back in graveyard to grow older.
The elevator opened on the 46th floor, to a small foyer and one plain, grey door
The door opened and a young girl, 10ish, in a blue, polo, tennis dress, said, “Hi! I’m Karen, you must be Anais. Will is around here somewhere. Aren’t you pretty, though? You go to school with Lisa? No wonder Will likes you.”
She skippingly ushered me from a bright, windowed, off-white, staircase entryway, into a deep-red, mahogany paneled library. A persian cat was soon underfoot, purring and winding around my legs.”That’s Misha,” Karen said, “just shoo her away if you don’t like cats.”
I stooped down to pet Misha who eagerly offered herself to be petted and admired. As I stroked her charcoal fur, Karen said, “Let me get Will,” as she scampered off.
A gold framed, impressionistic painting, pin-lit in bright crystalline light, hung over a fireplace. In the painting, two girls, in summer hats bright with startling red bows and yellow flowers, were sharing a book. The colors were rich, deep and swirling - it looked very much like a Renoir (I know my French artists). He’d done a whole “two girls” series. I drew closer - it wasn’t a print.
Though dazed by the opulence, I hadn’t missed what Karen had said. Will liked me. I longed to interrogate her about how exactly she knew Will liked me, and what form, exactly, Will’s liking took.
I know Will and Lisa (who would be joining us in a minute) are just friends. Not that it matters, we’re heading back to New Haven later - but Karen’s statements were capable of activating a girl's guy-dar.
Karen, wearing socks but no shoes, came to a sliding halt, on the wooden floor, by grabbing the door frame to stop an otherwise complete slide into the library. “You guys are going to the Ritz for lunch?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder, in a way that indicated that she knew the answer quite well.
The Ritz Carlton is a block away and our mission was to grab the food and bring it back here to eat. “Mind if I join?” she said, before I could answer her first question, all wide-eyed, blinking impatience.
“I don’t mind at ALL.” I said, Karen whooped and was off again down the hall. “I’M COMING TOO!” she yelled. I chuckled, knowingly - I’ve been there - I’m a little sister too.
We went to the concert, my cousin and
I
While we tried to find parking, a man in a yellow beetle hit an Acura, thought that no one was
looking and quickly looked for another space. My cousin didn't notice, but I saw his
face.
Interlude 21min
Later on, when we were actually in the auditorium but before the concert, I saw the beetle
driver and his girlfriend four rows closer to the stage than my cousin and I, and dead-center
to boot.
An evil idea bit me in the tit.
I got up and signaled my cousin to follow me, and when he asked what I was up to I just
chuckled and told him to act tough and follow my lead.
We walked towards beetle-man.
When at last we reached the hit-and runner, I tapped him on the
shoulder.
He turned around, eyes shining like a doe's within the halogens.
And who could blame him?
he was looking at me and my cousin, two six-foot tall men with broad shoulders and angry
looks.
"Hey! You're that idiot who just hit my Acura in the parking lot and drove off!" I barked out
as loud as I
could.
He turned dead white, the poor guy.
I barely succeeded in not bursting into
laughter.
"Well now you've dunnit buddy-boy, you done gone too far and you're gonna die!" I emoted
in trailer-court-elizebethan as I lunged at him.
He was wiry thin though, and a fast little thing.
Before I could blink he was running up the aisle towards the doors so fast he didn't even see
that my lunge was fake.
his girlfriend trailed him only by seconds.
I sat down in my new third row, center stage seat and laughed, motioning for my cousin to
join me.
He did, but shook his head dissapprovingly at me as he did.
"What in the sam-hill was that all about, cuz? Do I have to remind you that you don't own an
Acura?" He asked heatedly.
"No. I know I don't own an Acura. But for a while at least,
A. I own these seats
B.That poor kid we scared off will never, ever hit-and-run anyone again.
And
C. I proved a very important point to you."
"What exactly is that, oh great and wise Geofferini, king of the mouth-breathers?" he
questioned sardonically.
"I proved that you're a dillhole." I socked him on the shoulder.
Hard.
"But I love you anyway, cuz."
One December Night
Susan, Joy, Marsha, and Pam crawled out of their beds to eat bacon and ham.
Their parents were sleeping. They snored while the slept. The children tiptoed to the very
top step. The staircase was chilly. And it creaked while they crept. Downward they were
slinking, step by step.
Their puppy was resting on the fireplace hearth. They sat down beside him for what it
was worth. They sat on the floor. They did not use a chair. And while they were sitting,
Marsha hugged her pink bear. They made funny faces and started to laugh. They giggled
and squiggled and chuckled so fast that all of the elves in earshot were aghast.
Then all of a sudden, they heard something loud. It wasn't a trumpet, a flute or
bassoon. “I know what it is! …A kazoo!!” shouted Sue.
They looked all around to locate the sound. But, look as they might, it could not be
found. They looked in the kitchen and under the couch. Pam bumped her red head and
loudly said, “Ouch!” Who played that kazoo? They all wanted to know. So, they scampered
around by the fireplace glow.
The dog started barking. And bark loudly he did. That's when it happened. Beneath the
windowsill Sue slid. A great big toad outside, on that hill, in the cold wet snow, stood up
suddenly. Then, quickly down he did go. Frightened, freezing, and carrying a load. He slid
off of the log and went a-rolling downhill in the snow.
The children began jumping and squealing with delight. Oh, what a sight to see at mid-
night. The old toad was sliding with stocking feet in the air. Behind him, downhill, slid his
sack with a flare. About all that sliding he did not seem to care. Out there on the lawn in
rare southern snow, up and down Roller Coaster hill he did go! Faster and faster, he was
sliding with time. His suit became wet and covered with grime. Where was he going? Who
would they tell? At about that time, they heard the doorbell.
(To be continued...)
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009
Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes!
Sponsored by: Constance La France (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)