Long Cruddy Poems
Long Cruddy Poems. Below are the most popular long Cruddy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cruddy poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh, how I remember my teenage years,
smoking pot and drinking beers
My friends and I built forts in the forest
We'd see who could skip a stone the farthest
on the lake, where we'd fish all day, till dark
Boozing up- keg bash parties; in the park
No wonder why I've had an urge for wine
Seems back then I've crossed the line
I've made sandcastles out of puddy mud
But they've been washed out from the cruddy flood
I should have known that my spiked blood
Come 'eth from wine- or too much, bud
Oh, how I remember my teenage years
As I sit and think with tired tears
I've gained control of my life by quitting booze
For so much did I have to lose
I gave up on beer, and I kicked the pot
And I thank the lord for the things I've got
No wonder why I've been misunderstood
My teenage years were not so good
No one goes down to crazy town
they stay put or don't care,
but floods seep
tides rise
snakes swim.
Crazy town does not knock
before it comes in.
Murderous are the many
who though few
do much when they do.
Bedlam glowers
bawls naked from gothic bell towers,
the batty belch bawdily
in the public square.
The cops run guns drawn
but they run the other way.
Crazy runs the subway
green are the goblins of crime.
Crazy craps in the street,
rats deplore the mess;
it's all so cruddy and awful
change the tv channel,
or turn the volume down
on high-jinxing, carjacking,
dog nabbing,
crazy town.
Future boats will prioritize sustainability, intelligence, and modularity, featuring electric/hybrid propulsion, advanced lightweight composites, and sleek, aerodynamic designs for maximum efficiency. Expect integrated, touch-screen, and AI-driven navigation, with autonomous features for docking and monitoring. Springs shall bring in asparagus, peas, radishes, spinach, artichokes, and fresh herbs like mint and basil. Fruits such as strawberries, blueberries, and apricots are also coming into season.
minced onions both yellow and green stems or chives
with minced garlic
was added to the egg batter. Lothario is the nme of the dish
shucked razor clams
deep fried in
a mixture of bacon grease, olive oil and lard.
pareseam, and cheddar cayenne and salt
a squeeze of lemon,1and a mound of lemon zest
makes a woman think twice about the evening.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The perception Watermens and Shuckers and processors as "cruddy" or corrupt often stems from the high-stakes, exploitative nature of the watermens (game) industry rather than innate immorality in the Clamapourie's themselves. The business is built on immense, often hidden, financial pressures where Clameuperuiers can be broken, broke, and controlled by corporate interests-----------Holding the Clammers Crown------------Shucker of the Year----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Feeling kinda cruddy, yup, that's the word
Too many fries, too many burgs
When will I learn I can't handle that stuff
Stomach rebels, starts causing a fuss
Once could eat nails and all kinds of gunk
Now I eat mush and ground up junk
My teeth are all gone, can't chew anymore
Things go down whole, my tummy gets sore
So such is the life of this senior type dude
Head for the washroom, each time I eat food
Food disappears like famous greased lightning
Or I sit there for hours, really quite frightening
Irregularity's my name, I'm Irreg for short
Hope an operation, I don't have to resort
An artificial esophagus transplanted in me
So I can go regular like it once used to be
Oh for the days when I could eat all that junk
Those days are gone, who woulda thunk
That one day I'd be eating my morning cereal
Laced with Metamucil or some such material!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Feeling kinda cruddy, yup, that's the word
Too many fries, too many burgs
When will I learn I can't handle that stuff
Stomach rebels, starts causing a fuss
Once could eat nails and all kinds of gunk
Now I eat mush and ground junk
My teeth are all gone, can't chew anymore
Things go down whole, my tummy gets sore
So such is the life of this senior type dude
Head for the washroom, each time I eat food
Food disappears like famous greased lightning
Or I sit there for hours, really quite frightening
Irregularity's my name, I'm “IRREG” for short
Hope an operation, I don't have to resort
An artificial esophagus transplanted in me
So I can go regular like it once used to be
Oh for the days when I could eat all that junk
Those days are gone, who woulda thunk
That one day I'd be eating my morning cereal
Laced with Metamucil or some such material!
With my girlfriend in tip top condition
To film sex scenes for late television
She got sick in bed
So I went instead
And was heckled with spiteful derision
Well their laughter had made me feel silly
As I stood there butt naked and chilly
They said, “Get a hair dryer,
Or an electric fire,
For you sure need to warm up that willy.”
The director called three naked geezers
Who he said were real audience pleasers
Then he looked at my lot
And said, “Let’s get this shot,
With my new close up lens… and some tweezers.”
Grabbed a sock and ran home in the nuddy
And I tripped in a field, wet and cruddy
But I’d slipped on the sock
So my girl got a shock
When just one bit of me wasn’t muddy
*
That’s my self respect gone for a burton…
Then the morning sun shone through my curtain
I awoke in my bed
“Only dreaming,” I said
But I took a quick peek to be certain
all automatic alligators arrive arrogantly
barely behave beautifully but brazenly
carousing with creepy cruddy crocodiles
desperately denying despicable wiles
effectively expediting expediency
forever forsaking fruit flies who flee
glaring at grazing gritty grouses
hijacking horrific herbivore’s handy houses
igniting ingenious iguanas in I-o-Way
jubilantly joining jerky jaguars along the way
kibitzing kinesthetic killers from Zion
lollygagging like lively luxurious mountain lions
marvelously marking multitude of mini monkeys
notoriously noting nefarious nodules of displease
ostentatiously opening overt outages in Oregon
providing panda putrid prey Paul just spit on
quarrelsome quicksand quail
rapidly reading registered mail
saying sassing sentences swiftly
turning terrific tarantulas toenails thickly
utilizing underwater undercurrents down under
verifying valid villans' voluptuous plunder
with wild willingness and witchy wonder
‘xacting ‘xactly ‘xtreme ‘xestentialism supreme
yelling youngster’s yips on front of the queen
zinging zealous zealots into zebras galore
end of this abcedarian poem, there is no more.
Written By: D. Collins 11/12/24
A growth spurt beyond grimy, some never do.
No need for names. They know who I'm talking to.
They are pretty good at changing superficial traits.
But the core of their being is wicked without debate.
That cruddy person will emerge if they spot an edge.
For a substantial gain, good folks could end up dead.
They get Holier Than Thou to complete the fasad.
Swear up and down they are the right hand of God.
Judge them through their deeds and you'll not be surprised.
That, which before you stand, is the Devil in disguise.
What always comes out is what was there before.
The grime, slime, and crud oozing from their core.