Long Cutie Poems
Long Cutie Poems. Below are the most popular long Cutie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cutie poems by poem length and keyword.
Natural soporific narcotic
Recurrent suicidal thoughts
vaingloriously wend along winding road
within windmills of my mind
(o'er a death cab for cutie weeknd)
yakking, yanking, and yawking zeal
becalming this crash test dummy rolling
stone temple pilot inxs
of maroon 5 plus decades long
perdition hellaciously slogging
slow as adam and the ants,
thru fifty shades of gray's
anatomy common weal
masterly baiting this motley crue (cutting),
beatles browed, beastie boy,
foo fighters kickstart new edition
quickening reo speedwagon treadwheel
outre gee (bee) us, grateful dead,
mailer daemons inhabit
cavernous fist size vastness steel
via herbie hancock (hermans hermits)
cheesy munster trap doors that steal,
deep purple swiftly tailored
culture club members squeal
hosted by megadeth
pack rat boston for real
venue at tokyo hotel,
via en grave invitation
signed by alice in chains poison huss kiss
sing, which will spellbind
once contents unveiled,
an instant jane's addiction peal
immediately choking off air supply
then alice cooper egging bad company
to hypnotize the guess who sacrificial meal
supplanting raw
primal scream from spinal tap
acquiescing self to abandon all hope,
especially if black sabbath joins
creedence clearwater revival
dark shadows would demand one
(to take a knee) and kneel
before sacrificing oneself
at the beck and call
of evanescent nirvana
experiencing permanent relief,
sans soul (twisted) sister riding a hansom
off phish hull heart shaped coffin
ample room enough for blind
melon collie 10,000 maniacs,
their healing powers profusely emanating
via m&m shaped talking heads
methinks averring obeisance
to judas priest and hooters
with metallica linkedin with mötley crüe
coldplay feeling of eternal sleep,
where quiet pussy riot
joins carpenters, whose underground
bunker with golden arches
resembles empyreal
heavenly vault wreathed soundgarden
with electric light orchestra
sepulchral crowded house indicative
cynthesis iz done on a green day,
whereat dizzy gillespie afterlife deal
and you bet your sweet bippy meme,
an extra bonus for orthodox believers
(absent myself - a skeptic),
whose karma credit Suisse
with long deceased meatloaf
with soul asylum and heart to anele!
My wife and I were born only a few months apart,
I was older than her...so you know from whence I start.
When I was turning 50 she gave me some grief,
I didn't feel old, yet she teased me with this belief.
"I'll be living with an old man now", she would say,
In her little "cutie pie", "cut-up" way.
I knew I would have to do something to get back at her,
When she turned 50...was the time I waited for.
Those few months of her teasing me I never forgot,
Biding my time for revenge...or so I thought.
The big day came and I had the chance,
To avenge the barbs on which she'd made me dance.
We celebrated her 50th with some friends,
And got to talking about our ages, as those times tend.
I thought I'd be clever and cast out this net...
"I've never had sex with anyone over 50, as yet".
Our stunned little group fell silent and looked at me scantilly,
Thinking of how rude a comment to say...that was for me.
My wife, of course, knew the target to which I'd let my arrow fly,
Broke the silence of the moment, and made this reply...
"Well, I don't know how anyone else here might feel,
But I have had sex with one here older than 50, and it's NO BIG DEAL".
I had no rebuttal then and have had none until this time,
When I could put my perspective of all this into a rhyme.
It's been a brutal 17 years since that night,
When we sparred those few words in our "Age 50" fight.
But from that one chance banter I have learned one thing not to pick,
DON'T CROSS WORDS WITH HER...BECAUSE SHE'S JUST TOO QUICK!!
Behin' bared doors, beneath yer floors,
in cozy dens and caverns deep
y'll find me der down under de stair
where gutter rats scamper and silverfish sleep.
"Who can I be, hmmmm let me see.
I be a thief Good Grief!"
On to Ol' Town's docks walks Goldylocks
decked in de heights a fashion
in 'er purse I peeks, I rummage, I sneaks
discoverin' coin for me passion!
Den off to de park fer another mark,
I grimace and frown appearin de clown
Whilst signin' for de gang we makes a plan
ta break all de rules in de 'ole damn town.
Soon der's a tussel wid all of dis muscle
den me fingers kin creep in 'is pockets deep
grabbin' the loot I's trained ye see
yet, what I find i donna na keep.
Who can I be, hmmmm let see,
I be a thief Good Grief!
At Marchant's Oak near Fayrin's rest
Down forest paths,through high grass
I stalk de traders, cause I loves dem best
Why let me see who can I be so crass?
Who can I be, hmmmm let see,
I be a thief Good Grief!
But surin what I find I will na keep
Dough stealing be me duty,
I'll give ye back whats in yer pack
Fer I be an Honorable beauty.
And if per chance ye needs a hand
Wid opening treasure boxes cutie..
Donna get smart wid some other tart
who'll walk off wid yer booty!
Just 'ave a cheer fer I be 'ere
~Honoravillana at yer duty!
Dis 'err piece a work be dedicated to de Raven ‘aired beauty
name of Constance La France
I’m Kong the Gorilla, formerly of Africa,
but I now live in New York, in North America.
Carl Denham and his boys had to go and capture me.
They sailed on a boat to my land to make a movie.
A nearby native tribe was as nice as they could be.
I would be worshipped, and they’d leave a woman for me.
A member of Denham’s crew was a blonde with beauty.
Her name was Anne Darrow. Wow, she was a real cutie!
The tribe abducted her because blondes have scarcity
in that part of the world where I would roam nice and free.
They thought of her as the perfect sacrifice for me;
so they left her out as something complimentary.
When the crew of the ship came to rescue dear Annie,
Carl Denham got a bright idea quite suddenly.
Being greedy, he thought he would make lots of money.
Like a fool, I would become attached to this honey.
So with all of those tranquilizer guns, they shot me.
They took me to New York to live in captivity.
It was there my life history turned another page.
I was in chains in a theatre upon the stage.
It was there when I learned Anne would marry Jack Driscoll.
What did she see in that guy? I’ll say he’s an CENSORED!
When I found out about that, I got mad and broke free.
Then I grabbed Anne and I would take her away with me.
To the top of the Empire State Building we would be.
Then those dummies sent a squadron of planes after me.
You know what happened next, that really ruined my day.
To my son in Africa, here is what I will say:
“Son, I want you to beware. I’m hoping that you hear,
Carl Denham is returning to Africa next year.”
Zinnia Grandiflora a golden beauty
Yellow Prairie Coneflower conical cutie
Xerophilous plants designed to survive
Waterlily attached to bottom soil to stay alive
Venus Fly Trap grows wild in marshes
Ulmus grows wild along with birches
Texas Bluebonnet cover fields with hyacinth like joy
Shasta Daisy white and yellow who could ask for more
Rocket Larkspur projecting a backwards spur
Queen Anne's Lace root add to pot and stir
Purple Coneflower helps strengthen the immune system
Oriental Poppies held captive by morn's dew glisten
Nasturtium are symbols of conquest or of charity
Maximilian"s Sunflower withstands weather's serverity
Lemon Balm Mint lovely the citrus scent
Kalmia Carolina reaches to mountain ascent
Johnny Jump-Up a delightful surprise
Indian Blanket Flower a short lived prize
Hollyhock short-lived six to eight foot beauties
Globe Gilia blue clover-like cuties
Foxglove's foxy tubular but poisonous flowers
Evening Primrose has been used for food and medicinal powers
Desert-Marigold a blessing and curse
Chocolate Cosmos fills the air wth scents to nurse
Black-Eyed Susan Rudbeckia a delightful fall addition
Annual Baby's Breath to end a southern garden tradition
Inspired by John Lawless' contest First Ever ZYX Contest
Written: October 10, 2015
A mixture of wildflowers and other flowers and ideas..
He was wearing a T-shirt and blue jeans
She was watching him with a real enthusiasm
He was listening to a morbid song, a moment of past
She was undecided if she should hug him softly, one more time
It was painful to watch her dear father so distant and unmindful
She was ready to hold him with all her warmth, her nonstop chattering
To her surprise, he then looks her in her eyes and said,“my little girl,listen to me“
“Close your eyes and imagine a moment with me, the happiest moment.”
She closed her eyes, and silence everywhere as if there was no more need of talking or asking questions
After a while, she heard the polite familiar voice, “Got it? Would you like to share it with me, cutie pie?”
She was hesitant, cleared her throat, and asked, “Should I tell you my precious moment, Baba?”
“Indeed,” he replied.
“When I am with you, I feel like I am traveling fast through clouds.
Beautiful, marvelous clouds!”
She opened her eyes
They were traveling through the impeccable clouds!
Only he was distant and far away,
The sadness of time let the little girl withered away.
She closed her eyes again
And blindfolded dreams were rushing to her
To find another brief moment eventually.
“Could you open up the eyes, please?” A voice whispered
She was too afraid to do so. She was distant and absent-minded
She was listening to a morbid song, a moment of past.
And coincidentally, he was wearing a T-shirt and blue jeans.
Four foot ten, and yet you make my pulse rise,
my weakness is I love the petite size.
But height's incidental, when it comes to
my veneration and worship of you.
You're a genuine Kewpie-doll cutie,
possessing an innate idyllic beauty.
When we met by that weeping willow tree,
a fledgling Empath, you felt drawn to me.
Your aura shone so bright; I had to smile,
for my fantasies seemed so juvenile.
And lamenting the briefness of the hours
I lay supine amidst summer’s flowers.
An alluring angel, you’re pure of heart,
a splendiferous sculpture, beyond art.
A Goddess, to whom I’ll always be true,
I don't know why you love me, but you do.
A moon-lit day
End of Fall
The Sun an unseen presence
Far down south-west
Behind some silver cloud
Maples showering gold
On a lengthening walkway
Lovely as the Milky Way
A young couple in embrace
On a lonely bench
Hush, hush, silent speech
Tip-toe vagrant breeze
A teenage cutie
In Halloween fancy
Of rainbow hues
Floats her way
Did the trees around
Send her down
With their sliding leaves?
Time in lethargy
The skies in brood
Life in slow motion
Fowl in meditation
Perched on the bank
Their eyes lost in the sheen
Of the placid pond
Is this an evening
Or a dream?
Rub your eyes
Pinch your thighs
This can never be
Anything but a dream
"Wake you dreamer"
"Into what?
Another dream?
A dream within a dream?
And then a dream within a dream within a dream….? "
Isn't life an evening of Fall
Unending within a dream within a dream……?
No one wakes here
A dream-some nowhere
Close to the window of my room
Stands a tree called KRISHNO-CHURA
In our mellow Bengali tongue
Flamboyant is now in full bloom
Two months ago it was naked
Just hundreds of grey skeletons
As hard and harder grew the sun
Feather like leaves gladly crowded
And now in the heat of hard May
It is a breathtaking beauty
Cascade of red and red cutie
Spreading soft shade in a cool gray
I look and try to understand
How at a certain point of time
A friend of mine had lost all rhyme
Disaster shook his existence
The difficult sun of struggle
Grew shade plants leaves and juicy fruits
Fresh household with lyric and flute
Guiding the house rise from rubble
Today in his psychic garden
KRISHNO-CHURA in smile always
Many a door in the hallways
Himself a tree for all persons
My window is all flamboyance
Leaving me in clairvoyance
---------------------------
Hercules was serenading his sweetie from a wobbly willow chair.
His melodic notes of love swoon floated mightily in the air.
His voice was on fire today, all the females better watch out.
Serenading a sisterly trio – Ms. Meow, Ms. Prayer and Ms. Devout.
What are you yowling about? Asked a grouchy tom name of Pete.
Not ever friends, but he said, “Scoot over! I’ll join you on that seat.”
Hercules wanted to look good incase the beautiful cats looked out.
So, he scooted over, and gave room. Hoping to see Miss Cutie Devout.
Devout is mine, the Tom said, in a confident but territorial way.
That’s when two of the mademoiselles looked out and yelled “Hey!”
Hercules could not sing, he was so irritated by this uncouth fool.
To scrap with him or bite him now might look a bit uncool.
What is your name? He asked the Tom. Hoping it was Mr. Mud.
“It’s Adonis,” the puffed-up tom cat, he was as ugly as chewed cud.
“Hi Adonis!” Ms. Meow said in a sing-song-sort of way!”
“Sing for us?” Prayer asked. “It’s been sad with Ms. Devout away.”
Where is Devout? Interloper interfering cat and I immediately asked.
Toms soon discovered she had eloped last night with Mr. T.J. Crashed.
Crashed! Ms. Prayer and Ms. Meow were looking better all the time.
You can have Ms. Prayer, Adonis said. “Ms. Meow is mine!”