Long Darryl Poems
Long Darryl Poems. Below are the most popular long Darryl by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Darryl poems by poem length and keyword.
What are these translucent blue balls doing in my dungeon-lobby?
I shall chase them away with my fire-spouting stick!
I'll even use my hand to summon fire,
Though it gives me migraines to do so,
But there are just too many translucent blue balls!
Much more than last week.
Ohh! The migraine...it begins. Which means my flowing
Brown hair will dampen from perspiration which means
I must shampoo it AGAIN (the second time today).
I wish my roommate Ronald would stop staring at me
From the back of our dungeon-lobby.
What does he think this is, a show at the Mirage in Vegas?
These are LETHAL translucent blue balls!!!
I am saving Ronald's life as well as mine.
I just wish he'd just shut-up about hoping to see some white tigers--
It's not funny! My head is KILLING me!
Oh, great. Here comes the rest of the dungeon-apartment-complex:
Harry, Darryl, Phillip, and Samantha. I should really be charging them for this.
Don't they realize one translucent blue ball in the face will turn their brains into
macaroni and cheese?!?! I mean for Heaven's Sakes, we all chipped in to buy
Our own fire-spouting sticks! Harry lost his in the lake, Darryl left his at his
Parent's house on Christmas vacation, Phillip traded his for an IPad,
And Samantha is "fervently against" the usage of fire-spouting sticks
Since it's "horrendous for the environment" but got one anyway
so we could get the 5-stick package deal of 20% off--she can be a real
Sweet heart in that sense.
But honestly, bad for the environment?? You know what else is bad for the environment?
TRANSLUCENT BLUE BALLS!!!
I need a nap after this.
And shampoo.
Delighting our Black Caps chaps
Uniting fans fighting nite nite naps
Gaslighting Indian foes mishaps
Rewriting those cricketing maps
As the Black caps hit their straps
Darryl the toast the host soul saps
Gunbarrel straight out of the traps
They unravel yet another six slaps
Our great festive carol never flaps
A late Christmas pressie unwraps
Flicks & tricks spate picks the gaps
Indian spinners fate sinners lapse
Black caps chaps claps & back slaps
Kiwi yippee we see diddy GP scraps
Even that fat cat Virat finally snaps
Zen of Darryl and Glen victory laps
After white-wash a chance perhaps?
Hitch both Ajaz & Mitch under wraps
No Will or Matt but still Indians zaps
The plush crushed can’t turn off taps
Out gunned out spun another collapse
Lush waves rush flush with Black caps
A better gentleman there never was
Kind loving and generous man
Bon vivant and lavish tipper
Articulate, meticulous and dressed to the nines
Phoned his mother every Sunday religiously
Never a bad thing to say about anyone
It was a Friday after work
Celebrating the end of the week
More exuberant than usual
Spring was in the air
The days were getting longer
And the breeze warmer
He loved life till the very last minute
When it wasn’t baseball
It was Texas Hold’em
Then that fateful Friday afternoon he said
‘Tell my family I love them’
Just like that
We buried him on St.Patrick’s Day
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon
I’ll never forget that one final glance
That one lone sentinel by his grave
Standing guard
Up on that hill against the setting sun
A fitting tribute honouring
A man who had lived and loved
Every blessed day of his life
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
It had been foolhardy maybe as it did finish a tad tardy..
To watch the latest greatest nighttime cricketing mystery
Seriously sublime Darryl Mitchell in his delirious prime..
The bells chime the Kiwi men again with zen made history
Strolling even with New Zealand’s second string attack bowling..
Kohli & Co hellbent T20 slaves sent to their graves by the knaves..
By the underdog faves and endless waves of Black Caps rolling..
So you could say after this hooray foray that the Indian takeaway
The hosts death wish now the swish go to dish for a Black Cap fan…
Crow for the 2nd year in a row them dicey and us just too spicy!
Quips about bananas nadir and to South D an ironic cheer or sneer
After dafter no rigour or vigour self fulfilling prophecy of Baz Bull…
Hard not to sni*ger egos not heroes falter at bigger the lie high altar…
The reason the unjust willy nilly silly treason of Baz Bull lust in season
Elephant in the room must be the trigger for Ashes to Ashes..Dust to Dust…
Dank England tanks..stank were rank thanks to Kiwi yippee phalanx nirvanas
Fillips of Indian trips hall of fame names in a jumble stumble thrown in skips
We mumble Kiwis humble not one for boasts but everyone toasts the hosts
Getting spanked as the pressure cranked were outflanked by Mitchell & Phillips..
songer.co/song/rbydqk4der6jizslma0xvgcl
[Intro]
He thinks he’s a king, rollin’ loud and proud,
Don’t hear the whispers, just craves the crowd.
[Verse 1]
I rattle when I roll—call it my battle cry,
Got a hood full of thunder, howlin’ at the sky.
Paint’s peeled off, sun’s tanned my skin,
But I still glow like a firefly trapped in tin.
They turn their heads when I let loose my sound—
My smoke screams, I own this ground.
[Chorus]
Yeah, I’m slick, just look how I gleam,
Every scratch on me’s got a story and some steam.
Them fellas glare hard, tryin’ not to be caught—
Wishin’ they had half the wild I’ve brought.
(“I see you, Darryl, don’t act like you ain’t lookin’.”)
And the ladies? Ha! They blush like they mean—
Mmm-hmm... I’m still turnin’ heads, know what I mean?
[Verse 2]
Those seat springs pokin’, feel like a hug,
Wipers stuck on, like they’re cuttin’ a rug.
A/C’s dead, but the sauna’s a blast,
Who needs cool when you’re built to last?
Got the radio blarin’, my favorite tune,
Life’s a party, under the silver moon.
Every corner I hit makes the heart race fast,
In this thrill machine, I’m never outclassed.
[Chorus]
Yeah, I’m slick, just look how I gleam,
Every scratch on me’s got a story and some steam.
Them fellas glare hard, tryin’ not to be caught—
Wishin’ they had half the wild I’ve brought.
(“I see you, Darryl, don’t act like you ain’t lookin’.”)
And the ladies? Ha! They blush like they mean—
Mmm-hmm... I’m still turnin’ heads, know what I mean?
[Bridge]
Drive into the sunset, nothing’s outta reach,
Paint me a picture that no one can teach.
With wheels on fire, and a heart full of dreams,
Living for the now, ripping at the seams.
[Verse 3]
So crank it up high, let that energy flow,
I’m a comet runnin’, with a hell of a show.
Sparks fly by, hear the engine roar,
This ride ain’t a journey, it’s an open door.
With every mile traveled, my spirit’s set free,
You can spot me easily, living wild and carefree.
[Outro]
So here’s to the wild, and here’s to the fun,
With the top rolled back, yeah, I’m never done.
Still turning heads, through thick and thin,
In this life I’m leading, I’m ready to win!
I saw him on that last Sunday
I gave him a hug and a kiss
I told him he works to hard
and on Sunday's of him I did miss
he told me today was his birthday
I told him that was wrong
for not giving the church congregation
a chance to sing him a birthday song
as we're standing near the pulpit
I turned to the remaining crowd
I said, "today is Darryl's birthday "
in a voice clear and loud
so we gathered together
and we all started to sing
the birthday song to let Darryl know
to us what he means
we said we love you and
we wish you all the best
as a fellow child of God
we know that you are blessed
I was unaware that that would be the very last time
that I would see my dear friend Darryl Baskins alive
but I'm glad I got that chance to give him
my last hug and my last kiss
because he was my dear friend
and of him I will truly miss
Donald R. Crombie
May 6, 1944 July 6, 2014
It was on a Sunday you chose to leave
And I was very sad to see you go
You had other family you needed to see
But I shall really miss you so
There was Mom and Dad and Brother Darryl
And of course sisters Donna, Shirley and Kay
Cousins Larry, Henry, Danny, and Kurt
That you will also see along the way
All the people you have left behind
Understand why you had to leave
We will always love you
This you really must believe
I know you are in a wonderful place
And my missing you shall never cease
There are others that share this feeling too
So dear brother please, please,
Rest in peace
Connie Moore
July 8, 2014
I read Darryl Ashton’s poem Called Pinocchio Rex and this brought back
memories of a childhood incident
When I grew up we had a smallholding – the house was called ‘Longacre’ as we
had over an acre of land. Over the years we had chickens, pigs named Pinky
and Porky and a goat called Susie… she had kids called Billy and Nanny – guess
I was no good at names back then… but I digress
Attached to the house was a small village shop but my parents also made a
small income from selling fresh eggs and in the summer home grown
strawberries – I would help pick washing baskets of them and bag them up to
sell.
Every week a little old man would arrive for his dozen eggs and if the shop was
shut he would ring the doorbell. He wore a pointed felt hat, had steely blue
eyes and the most enormous nose you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to him
my parents nicknamed him 'Pinocchio'.
When I was aged about 7 years old the doorbell rang – mum was busy baking
in the kitchen so I answered it. There in front of me stood this old man wanting
his eggs. Mum shouted from the kitchen
‘Who is it Janet?’
I replied ‘Oh its only Pinocchio’
At once mum appeared from the kitchen, her face was the colour of beetroot.
She apologised for the comment from her ‘cheeky daughter’ The man
purchased his eggs and walked away – never to return!
The moral of this true tale is that parents ALWAYS tell the truth and that
children have ears the size of an elephant and a mouth just as big … so if you
don’t want them to repeat something YOU have said keep it zipped!
Jan Allison
11th August 2014
All about fall of Bazball and Stokes’s not Foulkes fate
Well what about back slaps for Black Caps chaps mate
Pundits rude culprits pulpits spewed twee oh so Kiwi trait
Mighty minnows again punching well above their weight
Really a campaign even without Kane their all time great
And the penury of an injury spate they were still first rate
Doff our hats to Matt’s vat of stats could hang in the Tate
Darryl no right knight apparel didn’t unravel to bouncer bait
Simply from harder Kiwi larder did Archer Armada frustrate
Nicholls with the don gone did come on and compensate
And the willow wizard Williamson he did commemorate
Way Tom & Conway with aplomb did play did elaborate
Riff of Smith & Glenn dashing or Rachin flashing celebrate
Blundell loving gloving getting a bundle myths liberate
Cruel flak that Zak got for being middle pace cack did irritate
Not in the top pack but joined the attack and did penetrate
Had a crack and got a stack so ace can each hack flagellate
Old school grace beat cool fool as Bazball rule did annihilate
Two of New Zealand’s famous ex pat sons they did eviscerate
Shroud in praise in proud land of long white cloud tributes percolate..