Long Combo Poems
Long Combo Poems. Below are the most popular long Combo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Combo poems by poem length and keyword.
Hesitation gets you no where, beware dont go there
thats a violation punishments annialiation
plant the seed and watch it grow just to get chopped down
cant be stopped now, welcome ya'll to my pow wow
i make the gun go plow gun powder mouth, automatic, im an addict
and i dont know how to quit firing off rounds
No mission is impossible disregard all obstacles
cold popsicle, sicker than a hospital
wheres the alcohol, cuz im addicted to the bars
your greatest the rapper on earth, thats fine cuz im from mars
damn my covers blown, earthlings you arent alone
I was bluffin, thanks for nothin, thanks for stuffin
my head full of lies and deceat, I guess no reason for me
to go to church no more, im done for
I might as well go shooot up a gun a store
no wait I think instead i'll go fight for iraq,
tell em all the secerets then give bin laden a dap
president bush snorin in his office takin a nap,
reading the newspaper smiling and taking a crap
you might be hating this rap, but im never takin it back
no receipt kapeeshe, you didnt pay for it jack
99 problems and a ***** is one that i got
my girlfriends loose so i tied her up in a knot,
now she go cant go around hoppin from cock to cock,
thinkin shes Hot, spreadin every damn disease that she got
fuhck a G, this chic has an A-Z spot,
things so wide you could park diddy's yacht
when she cum's she sneezes out bugers and snot,
excuse my language im dangerous when im angry alot
picaso couldnt paint this master piece, after me, im happily
crapping on rappers
im so complex in my simple text,
that you almost look forward to what comes next
it could be about any subject or topic just know you cant top it
the way that i say couldnt be said any better, every word every letter
a veteran at only nineteen, its frightneen and might seem unbelievable
but u gotta believe it along as its readable,
and I cant speak so i let ink leak,
onto the paper and into ur mind where its safer
cuz this stuff is lethal, the combo of my tounge and my teeth will
be sure to be heard by all people, its all equal, eminem retired now im the sequel
it'll beheath you to increase breathing and cut down on the speech, you reach a
point where talkin
will get you no where,
i know its your freedom, but pleas dont be dumb
Im a lumber jack leave you stumped like a tree trunk...
We three teachers were taking a painting class.
Mr.G, the teacher was new, fresh, nervous.
Asked us if we would please let him put our paintings into an art show.
Kitchia was reluctant, but Margo and I handed ours over quickly.
I begged Kitchia to let him have hers too.
He needs more for the show, I argued.
She had been bragging all the way to Des Moines how great it was.
Her husband Ronnie loved her painting right?
I begged and begged and begged and begged and begged her.
I am not usually this persistent. But I was that day. No idea why.
Except he wanted to prove himself to his daddy, the head art teacher.
She finally handed it over, after I practically tore our friendship up.
Mr. G. was going to take our paintings down, and they would be juried.
No dea what that meant, but had a weird feeling when I saw him return.
With Kitchia’s painting.
Mr. G. explained the art panel had voted not to accept it.
What? I could barely look at Kitchia. I could not look at Margo either.
Margo had seen Kitchia’ temper, but I never had.
Her cheeks were flamingo pink; she was hot. I am sorry. I whispered. .
Her cheeks turned crimson, so I knew this was wrong.
We always get an ice cream for the ride home.
I ask, “Who wants to stop for ice cream?” Kitchia has not said a thing.
“I DON’T!” she screams from backseat next to her unhappy painting.
One she said husband Ronnie loved for an hour on ride to art class.
We stopped anyway.
Margo got vanilla and I got a chocolate vanilla combo.
Air so frosty, you could not have broken tension with a hatchet.
Rode the last thirty-six minutes in silence after I gave up having conversation.
Kitchia leapt out of the car first.
She stopped at a dumpster for a second. Raised it up.
Threw painting in and stomped off, still angry, furious, obviously hurt.
“And you had to beg her to put it in the art show,” Margo said.
I felt like a dead dime.
We saw each other at school, and I tried everything to be friends again.
She gave me another chance, but it was never the same.
No matter what, our laughs and smiles were stilted after that.
I still felt remorseful every time I saw her.
A stale, lukewarm second chance.
I learned one valuable lesson though.
When someone is reluctant to do something, keep your mouth shut.
Bully me you, I exemplified archetypal scapegoat
Even as old (dish) married
(spooning) curmudgeon,
who receives social security disability
linkedin with social anxiety)
chose the fork less traveled
aye pucker with sunken cheeks,
(especially without dentures)
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber
(think unclogging toilet)
please support your local bummer
back in the day one
long haired pencil neck geeks palled
around with another
hirsute nerd - Roger Kummerer,
(who both of us graduated Methacton
High School class of 1977),
and yours truly readily
admitting, alluding, and attesting
without shadow of doubt
representing the dumber
than rocks of said beastie boys
bandits, donning particolored pachyderm
gabardine garb getup trumpeting,
especially as Mummer
on each New Year's Day
with bare ass tuchus
excellently imitating courtesy said orifice
(as chief motormouth) sound
of combo motorboat hummer.
Ah... the joys of amazingly aging gracefully
happily recalling never being
beat into bloody pulp dully
imagining dimming sense and sensibility
before (appearing gratefully dead)
lifeless body dumped into gully
nonetheless all the while fully
maintaining conscious, and forcefully
summoning forth latent powers gleefully
choking living daylights masterfully
delivering just desserts upon Tom Viglione,
whose plaintive laments truthfully
resonate as blessed music
to ears unaccustomed hearing pitifully
sounding long overdue comeuppance
forever disbelieving wrongfully
perpetrated injustice
witnessed impossible mission
fueling an ordinarily meek lad
only in his dreams, he envisions zestfully.
Pugnacious thuggish hooligans... although
decades long since elapsed, whereby hoodlums
jockeyed to rain one after another verbal blow
threatening introverted diminutive boy
who, no surprise did eventually,
albeit (stuntedly) grow
(as an aside resembled anorexic
Santa Claus ho... ho... ho...)
still wracked, impacted, affected...,
this punster, he haint Joe
King, but upholds valuable humor less or mo'
feebly, lamely, and quirkily aspires toward po'
whit tree linkedin with infusing,
(no matter ex post facto)
freeing mine unsung hero.
Poetry that inspires
In fleeting time, a moment we possess,
to turn our dreams into pure happiness;
The sun may rise and set a thousand ways,
but now's the hour to bloom, to truly bless.
—-
A spark within, a flame that dares to rise,
against the darkest night, it softly burns;
And though the road be long and filled with sighs,
the heart within, to hope, forever turns.
In trials deep, the soul will find its way,
through clouds of doubt, it searches for the light;
Each step, though small, is bold enough to say,
I’ll find my wings and lift myself in flight.
For in each breath, a universe unfolds,
a dream reborn with every beat we take;
The will to rise again, to break the molds,
is all we need to bend but never break.
So hold this truth through struggle and through strife,
You are the poet of your own bright life.
—-
A single thought can light the way,
And turn the night into the day.
With hope and joy, let worries flee,
For what we think is what we'll be.
A smile can bloom where doubt once stood,
A gentle shift from "can’t" to "could."
So let your mind soar free and wide,
And see the world from the bright side.
—
The morning light filters through the window, casting a golden hue on the day ahead. Each moment is a chance, a gift, wrapped in possibility. The worries of yesterday fade into the distance as the heart chooses to embrace what is new. The power to transform lies within, waiting for the mind to whisper, "Yes, you can."
wings of hope take flight,
in the dawn’s soft, glowing touch~
a new path begins.
—
When the road feels long and skies turn gray,
Know the sun will rise to light your way.
Each step you take, though slow, is sure,
For strength is built in trials you endure.
Believe in you, for you are strong,
The journey’s hard, but not for long.
With every stumble, you learn to stand,
The future’s bright, within your hand.
So lift your eyes, and face the day,
The storm will pass, the clouds give way.
Keep moving forward, brave and true,
The world awaits the best of you.
Written Sept 30, 2024
© Dr Upma A. Sharma
New form of poetry that is combo of various forms of poetry
(Rubaiyat, Sonnet, Rhyme, Haibun, Rhyme)
me and my girl kelssey just got done smoking weed
are stomach start rumbling and we started too have cravings
what was it what do we need
we but our minds together and it was micky d's
so we walked in to get our burgers and fries,
but realized we aint gots no money to our surprise
i look in my back pocket and a 20 appear
we was like holy crap then we walk up to the cashear
she was like "how can i help you? you want that here or to go ? "
umm i dont know but i like a number 6 plain with cheese
but her not sure what do you want kelssey?
i want a classic combo. a sweet tea to drink.
thats what id order im pretty sure or i think.
burgers on our mind..thank god it was micky d's that we would find
. but watch the drinks. make sure the dont spill.
but if you do its ok. cuz we get free refill.
they called our order and we grab our meal
right when we seat down i cause a big deal
i looked at my food and guess what i see
they put lettuce ketchup and mayonnaise and the receipt says plain with cheese
i cause a fus and a big scene it all worked out
the food was free and i got back my 20
so we didnt have to pay.
we got out there real fast and started a good day.
but we were still hungry and what did we do?
well we thought a shopping cart would fit through the drive through.
a bad idea? i dont know. but me and west thats how we roll.
so we climb in and away we go we went so fast no a time was spent
i was like " i hope we dont hit a car i hope we dont cause a dent"
we finnally got to the end of the drive through
so we told em to give us order number two and dont for get order number three
right when we grabbed our food we jumped out of the cart and then we flea
so our trip to mickey d's was quite amazing at the least...
as we eat our burgers and join in a great feast.
im like dang what are we doing
we are packing our face s like a 8 year old eats pudding
im a skinny kid but now i feel like a fat as pig
i ate so much im starting to feel sick
so fat we feel. cuz we ate to much. kinda bad idea.
who would of thought of such.
well me and west kno how to kick it. eat mickey d's all day is good living
Once a friend of mine invited me for lunch
A celebration he planned for his book launch,
The book was on traditional Indian cuisine, I knew
No very different from its modern cousin or new.
I was hesitant to join for my stomach was upset
He pleaded with me, let the plan not get upset.
I must join the friend’s party, how could I say no
For it was a special event in his life, I should know.
He would take care, being an accomplished chef
For me, he assured, food would be entirely safe.
I decided to not enter into a friendly row
But to go, occupy a chair in the back row,
Enjoy the lunch as best I could to the last course
And not utter a word about stomach, of course.
I went for the lunch on a winter day quite chilly
Vowing to avoid the food items with lots of chilli.
Through morning my friend made things all ready
For the party he threw, guests had arrived already.
While cheese and toast rested untouched for a while
We proposed a toast to his success as a chef of style.
Matching the rhythm of our warm and soft whine
Rose red wine rose and swirled in shining glasses thin.
I was delighted to see on the table dishful curd
So much good for my stomach, I shouldn’t discard.
The fat naan was so liberally buttered all over
None possibly would have eaten in their life ever,
Flat bread made of finest flour of well bred wheat
Looked like blooming flowers on the floral plate.
The flavor of famous basmati rice as it would rise
I would favor to have it instead of bread to be wise,
Sprinkle of spring onion with smell of spring in fish curry
Added to the gastronomic delight, a treat far to carry,
Meat in gravy with basal green layer of fresh basil leaf
Could meet the culinary acumen of any expert chef,
The salad of beet root, leek, lime and touch of olive
Could beat any such combo in the world, I believe.
Before scoops of ice cream could bury the red berry
The dessert disappeared as if in desert heat in a hurry.
My friend’s hospitality won the hearts of one and all,
Thanking him amply we departed before the nightfall.
We expressed the appreciation for the food aloud
As much as our satiated minds sincerely allowed.
December 3, 2017.
It was a long summer and the bees did their job,
For the trees were filled with apples, hanging like little knobs.
Oh, those orbs, they looked so delicious and red,
I gathered so many, I had to put the bushels in the shed.
They would be the source of a season of treats,
And anyone who wanted, could have their fill of the eats.
Cakes were baked, Crisps were done too,
I even tried my hand at fresh applesauce, before the season was through.
I did apple salads and baked apples as well,
But it was the pies that got adulation, so of those I will tell.
Paring and slicing in an expedient way,
The apples were ready, shortly before midday.
Then with a mixture of flour, sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg,
I make them into a filling, that would even make a king beg.
I've tried so many kinds of pastry to fill,
From filo and puff, to rolled out traditional.
And I have to say whilst patting myself on the back,
They all taste great, flavor they do not lack.
The traditional pie is the one most people enjoy,
I have tried to improve on it, since I was a boy.
I learned how to make it at Mom's left hand,
Roll out the crust, the filling never canned.
Pats of butter on top before you cover,
Make for a pie that will be loved world over.
Then to seal the pie, brush it with melted butter, and cut some slits,
Pop it in the oven, and just wait for it.
The tantalizing aromas just make me wild,
Just as they did, when I was a child.
The moment the pie comes out I can see,
That another triumph has been made perfectly.
The dome is golden, the apples are done,
Now, only to wait for it to cool, before we can enjoy some.
Some like it ala mode...with ice cream you know,
But I'm a plain Jane, and for me it's not the right combo.
So I just have a slice that's warm on the plate,
And will my appetite, begin to sate.
It is one of my favorite desserts,
Of this I will always my willingness assert.
The only thing that troubles me,
Is all the bushels left to peel, when I have time free.
But I will do them, and into the freezer they are thrust,
Waiting for me to them into another pie, as so often I must.
Bully me you, I exemplified archetypal scapegoat
Even as old curmudgeon, aye pucker
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber
(think unclogging toilet)
please support your local bummer
back in the day one
long haired pencil neck geeks palled
around with another
hirsute nerd - Roger Kummerer,
(who both of us graduated Methacton
High School class of 1977),
and yours truly readily
admitting, alluding, and attesting
without shadow of doubt
representing the dumber
than rocks of said beastie boys
bandits, donning particolored pachyderm
gabardine garb getup trumpeting,
especially as Mummer
on each New Year's Day
with bare ass tuchus
excellently imitating courtesy said orifice
(as chief motormouth) sound
of combo motorboat hummer.
Ah... the joys of amazingly aging gracefully
happily recalling never being beat into pulp dully
imagining dimming sense and sensibility
before (appearing gratefully dead)
lifeless body dumped into gully
nonetheless all the while fully
maintaining conscious, and forcefully
summoning forth latent powers gleefully
choking living daylights masterfully
delivering just desserts upon Tom Viglione,
whose plaintive laments truthfully
resonate as blessed music
to ears unaccustomed hearing pitifully
sounding long overdue comeuppance
forever disbelieving wrongfully
perpetrated injustice witnessed impossible mission
fueling an ordinarily meek lad
only in his dreams, he envisions zestfully.
Pugnacious thuggish hooligans... although
decades long since elapsed, whereby hoodlums
jockeyed to rain one after another verbal blow
threatening introverted diminutive boy
who, no surprise did eventually,
albeit (stuntedly) grow
(as an aside resembled anorexic
Santa Claus ho... ho... ho...)
still wracked, impacted, affected...,
this punster, he haint Joe
King, but upholds valuable humor less or mo'
feebly, lamely, and quirkily aspires toward po'
whit tree linkedin with infusing,
(no matter ex post facto)
freeing mine unsung hero.
The imagination of humanity is nothing if not fertile when one sees the number of spinoffs of Wordle. It’s now up to over ninety and counting and the creativity of these games is simply astounding.
A game that lets you guess a movie is called Framed. Just another way that movies keep us entertained.
There’s Wordle for several languages, including Indonesian but the coolest is out of this world, and that's the one for Klingon!
Fibble is Wordle with the twist of a lie. Hardle is harder Wordle. Care to give it a try?
Facedle is Wordle for famous faces. Globle and Worldle are both about places.
For Pokemon fans, there’s Squirdle, and a combo of Wordle and Hangman is Murdle.
Artle and Paintle are about paintings, of course. Swordle is Star Wars Wordle. Be sure to use the Force.
Mathler is Wordle plus math. Give it an add. Numble is another math game, and it’s not half-bad!
Of course, there are new games added every day. Hope you get lots of green tiles when you play!
#RED:
RENDERING A RICH, RIPE, ROBUST REVEALING, {A RAVENOUS APPEALING}
A FIERY FURY/FEVER PITCH IN HEAT INTENSITY PROVIDING FULFILLING IMMENSITY!
BLUE: BURSTING BRILLIANCE OF BEAUTIFUL BOUNTY AND BENEFICIAL BROADENING...
{NATURE'S SWEET NON-COMPETE WITH FLAIR} "BLURPLE" A.K A. BLUISH PURPLE
BEYOND COMPARE...
BEST AMONGST FRUIT FARE...
"BERRY GOOD!!!" "HOW BLISSFUL!!!"
ORANGE: OUTSTANDING IN VITAMIN C BRANDING! ORIGINAL CITRUS SUPER FOOD! {DOES YOUR BODY GOOD!} "ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN'T SAY PRUNES" OH SO DELICIOUS NUTRITIOUS CLEMENTINES...
MARVELOUS "CUTIE PUTUTIE" MANDARINS....
"I CERTAINLY DEMAND YA'!!!" {SMILE}
LIME GREEN: "LET'S GET INTO THIS ZEST!"
LIVELY TANGY FINESSE I STRESS ;-)
"LARGE AND IN CHARGE" FOR A MELLOW
MEMORABLE APPEAL WITH MEAL... :-)
{TONED DOWN, A TAD BIT BUT STILL "LIT"}
JUST ENOUGH WHILE IT HOLDS ITS OWN,
CAN I GET AN "AMEN" MY GUACAMOLE PATROLE...
{THIS LIMITLESS FRUIT STEALS THE SHOW!}
WHERE LIME RULES SOLELY! LET'S NOT FORGET, AVACADOS WITH ITS LIME GREEN FLESH...
"OH YEAH...OF COURSE, THEE BEST! ! !"
PURPLE: PASSIONATE FUELING PLEASURE TREASURES! ALL FOODS THIS HUE... IS A "PRESENT" IN NATURE'S KINGDOM AND QUEENDOM OF {SUPREME STUPENDOUS GOODNESS}...BLACKBERRIES/PURPLE GRAPES/PURPLE PLUMS/PURPLE YAMS...
"YES! I WANT SOME!!!" SUPERIOR SUPER STARS,
BY FAR!
IMAGINE A TERRACOTTA BREAD...
PERHAPS WITH A CHARTREUSE SPREAD...
OR A BLURPLE DRINK FILLED WITH
NEON* YELLOW LINKS/"PERHAPS PINEAPPLE'S LONG LOST CUISINE COUSIN, I THINK! {HA!}
DON'T FORGET ABOUT BLACK AND WHITE MARBLE CAKE "NO BAKE" COMBO SHAKE...
MAIN INGREDIENTS:
SWEET POETIC ESSENCE
{A MOST GRATIFYING PRESENCE}
LIKE...
COLOR PALLET PLATED SALADS IN FRESH VIBRANT HUES..."JUST FOR YOU!" {SMILE}
MAY "YOUR IMAGINATION" BE SWEET* AS A CHERRIES JUBILEE OR SAVORY* AS A TRUFFLED MUSHROOM WHITE WINE SOUFFLE...
"COLORFUL, INVITING AND EXCITING! ! !"
:-)
Renee D. Gross {GHPPR} September 4th, 2023#