Long Dicky Poems
Long Dicky Poems. Below are the most popular long Dicky by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dicky poems by poem length and keyword.
They talk about how the country these days,
has fallen into such a Goddamn mess.
It’s worse than anyone has ever seen,
must have forgot the seventies, I guess.
They talk about how the ex-president,
did not do things the same way they use to.
But they must have forgotten all about,
Tricky Dicky back in seventy-two.
Congress showed us another bill they wrote,
said there’s no room here in the land we stole.
You won’t get no rights or have any hope
so just keep your ass down in Mexico.
Way down yonder where the tall cotton grows,
down south of that old Mason-Dixon line.
Daddy said son, best not be on the road.
after that setting sun no longer shines,
Late last night just outside of my front door,
there was a young white woman raped and stabbed.
They looked at the people gathered around,
it was an innocent black man that they grabbed.
Said we don’t need no proof that you’re guilty,
if you are black then that’s enough for us.
Besides, it’s your word against all of ours,
so who you think the judge is gonna trust.
When the man threw his hands into the air,
the cop cried, “That boy’s got himself a gun.”
Shot him a total of thirty-nine times,
said it’s because he was trying to run.
I wonder when it was, we lost our minds,
the meanings of good and bad got hazy.
Did the cave men wake up on one morning,
thinking that this world is too damn crazy.
They are hopping mad so they burned the flag,
protesting against inequality.
The poor man’s sick of being kicked around,
while he’s dying of hunger in the street.
It’s Covid now instead of Russian Flu,
there is still no such thing as living free.
I just can’t tell if this is modern times,
or are we in the nineteen seventies.
I know I put my glasses down, but don't remember where
I would ask someone to help me, but no one seems to care
I've looked in all the places, that I may have put them down
The last place that I thought to look, the pocket of my gown
Naturally they are not there, continue with the search
Even Cocky seems amused, there sitting on his perch
Did I leave them outside in the car, go out and have a look
I soon found out that they were not there, in the minute that it took
I even opened up the fridge, they never have been there
But it is still a place to look, with diligence and care
I've been up to the bedroom, even checked the bed
Told the family to find them, or no one will be fed
They all gave me that resigned look, now they will have to say
That they know where my glasses are, there is no other way
They still kept quiet and watched me, as I went from room to room
They know they will have to tell me, if I do not find them soon
That would mean they would go hungry, for I would keep my word
I still listen for a message, from that little dicky bird
The youngest of the children breaks, and tells me where they are
They were sitting high up on my head, did not get very far
It was very sticky
Myron had to use his dicky
Wiping his face
Needing to build his case
He used a four letter word
In front of a girl
She started to cry
Knowing she was got caught in a lie
Starting to cry
Said goodbye
Home she ran
To her Mommy Fran
Fran picked up the phone
And with an angry tone
Told Myron’s Mother Joan
Well Joan was livid
That her little Myron did it
Used a four letter word
In front of a girl
No one was there
When Myron peered down the stairs
Feeling very scared
He didn’t go down, not even dared
“Myron did you use a four letter word?
In front of a girl?!?!”
Myron thought he was going to hurl
“Yes I did Mom
I let loose an F Bomb”
Myron said being very calm
“I wanted to be on her best friend list
And I used the F Bomb when I was dissed
She had another guy named Brad
So I was mad
Just like Dad
When you threw him out then called a cab
Remember you used an F Bomb
Mom”
Turning into a red lobster
Looking to kill like a mobster
“Myron I do not like your tone
Go to bed all alone!!”
Hours passed
And Myron had an urge to release more than gas
“Mom I want you to know
I really have to go
A four letter F Bomb is coming
Not a solid but running”
When Myron was in the can
His Mommy came to understand
With pink stuff in a bottle
And TLC on the throttle
“You were not in the bathroom sitting bricks
You were feeling sick”
He looked into his mother’s eyes
Honest no lies
“She liked someone else other than me
She was such a tease
Does everything as she please”
Joan being a good mother gave him a hug
Took away the troubling love and bug
“You want some warm bake cookies?”
“Sure Mom but first let me call my bookie”
In the end
And time to defend
Just say when
Pushing the F Bomb button that says send
~A Very Important Question~
To all the clever clogs out there, and I know there are some
It’s only cos I’m jealous because I am not one of them
I know how to split an atom, and make a clock run on a lemon
I know how to change a heater on a hot tub, cos I have just done one
I know what to plant in an acid garden that will gives its best bloom
I know the time to plant it and I know when it’s too soon
But when my little nephew asked a question while talking to me
It was a question I was stuck on and it’s “do the dicky birds wee?”
Well I thought about it for a while and pondered on this question
And all the bird poop lying around I could not make a decision on
So to all of you that know the answer, please will you tell me
When a bird is having a craps on us, is it also having a wee?
©GG 1/09/2012
The picture on the parlor wall captures
A frozen memento of lives lived long ago.
With all its creatures, scenes and features,
Arrayed like animals, in a parade on show.
Dicky bird smiles enticed with cheese,
A mother’s grin, a father’s stern gaze,
Children rebellious, shuffling with unease,
Eyes fixed and staring, to stop the blink strays.
Within its frame, the past forever stays,
An image contrived to hide the blots and blights
Of fall-outs, feuds and fights of bygone days.
All briefly subdued in soft forgiving lights.
Oh, I wish the picture hung on parlor wall,
Captured in truth what was, with warts and all!
At the outset of the pandemic, a conspiracy theorist I was dubbed
Like many others who had doubts, an elephant in the room had now arrived
In many families and also friendships, as theorists, we were scrubbed
So five years down the track, I received a message from my seventy six aged accuser,
describing symptoms she has suffered , I believe ,as a result of being a vaccine user
Post operation to replace a dicky knee
immediate pulse rate , two hundred plus or minus thirty three
So what has been prescribed, it's called a beta blocker
keeps the pulse rate somewhere in the ball park
It's still pulsing around, one hundred and forty beats per minute
seemingly to me, still a rather rapid mark
Protection from the "virus" through the jab does not seem at all to exist
with covid reoccurring for this woman more times than the knuckles on the fist
There's also viral meningitis, allergies as well, she wonders is it the jab
what else would have caused it?
Was it forced? Twas a voluntary action,
no government agency enforced it
Here's a statement that she made: I'm fairly healthy compared to all my peers
Does she maintain beliefs about conspiracy theorists?
For me there's now much proof that validates my suspected vaccination fears
Footnote: this woman has decided to have no further vaccinations
Parody of Sixteen Going on Seventeen Reprise from the sound of music
I am sixty going on seventy
I’ve got a dicky heart
Surgeon’s been kind and relieved my mind
My ticker he can restart
But I wonder, should the worst happen
Will my life be the same
Energy low ,lost my libido
It’s driving me quite insane
Unfit to make love to my wife
Bereft of all my vim
Unless I brave the surgeon’s knife
Our future’s looking grim
Heart disease is now my enemy
I hope I will pull through
I am sixty if I reach seventy
I’ll need a pill of blue
Just give me a pill of blue
The Tune Of - - - Musicals - - - Part One Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Natasha L Scragg
11/20/21
Opaqueness transcends past despairs mainstream,
Brando wouldst cry whence heart parts, my desire,
Wit or witout, parleys saved, reigned supreme,
Self-secured, needless watch, aloof—steel beam,
Perch in want, puffed huffed girth lurks torment’s dire,
Opaqueness transcends past despairs mainstream,
Purpled robs thee of thy true color scheme,
Gray’s an area, right or wrong, prior,
Wit or witout, parleys saved, reigned supreme,
Budgie’s tales of my gamut’s length, extreme,
Dicky-bird, thou art my wordless flyer,
Opaqueness transcends past despairs mainstream,
Ne’er will the pair meet, sums nature’s pipe dream,
Empty nestles remembrances retire,
Wit or witout, parleys saved, reigned supreme,
Decisions abandon ruse quips redeem,
Eager claimed as death mounts, lingers satire,
Opaqueness transcends past despairs mainstream,
Wit or witout, parleys saved, reigned supreme.
John Wulf, with his funny Limerick antics telling funny hilarious stories,
“viagraology
There once was a medical study
of things flapping flaccid like putty
those men given placebo
couldn’t enter gazebo
it drove the poor fellas plumb nutty
Copyright © 2015John Wulf”
but also has his very soft spot for all of us
Then there is my very favorite lady, Jan Allison, with all her humorous poems,
ANOTHER VIAGRA POEM HAS JUST POPPED UP - INSPIRED BY EVE ROPER AND JACK ELLISON
It hung so limply like Niagara
Doc told him to take some Viagra
Just one little blue pill
Gave his wife such a thrill
It sticks up so high it could stab ya
Copyright © 2015JAN ALLISON 18th July 2015
but lover her with all our hearts she is the sweeties of them all
Jack Ellison, teasing back and forth with his witty poems,
so who’s the greatest of them all,
OD'd On Viagra
Hickory, Dickory, Dock
Overdosed on Viagra, whatta shock
My wee fellow looked up
Said, “You ain't no pup!”
I cried, “This guy don't go by no clock”
Copyright © Jack Ellison 2015
But a jolly soul because his Santa Jack this year.
Then there’s our Mystic Rose that joins the group with her sense of humor;
A Little Viagra Goes A Long Way
Incline thy ear o-friend of mine
Me poor husband got it bad
He got a dicky that won't pine
Tis sad Tis sad Tis really sad
I heard yours takes Viagra pills
Malone's will not erect nor stay
and yesterday he got the shills
Just letting dicky out to play!
Would you be so kind to send
The medicine that made him sleep
I'll give my hon a pop to rend
His dicky joy, so he can weep
Few tears of joy alongside mine
Oh how my smile would shine
He got a dicky that won't pine
And that's a real bad sign...
Copyright ©Mystic Rose 7/19/2015
so much fun we have here on Poetry Soup
11/13/2015
Poetry Contest : Who Are those funny Poets
Sponsored by: Judy Konos
I was qualified in middle eastern history,
which was a waste at the chemist it seemed to me,
however, I saw an advert to become a spy,
Instead of media, thought that I would give it a try.
I had a light brown colour, useful for blending scenery,
knowledge of languages should make me fit in perfectly;
they asked me tricky-dicky questions - was I C - of - E,
I said that I was whatever they wanted me to be.
Soon, I was monitoring 'traffic,' to and fro from Syria,
Yemen, Afghanistan, Iraq, Tunisia, Luton and Algeria;
Forget the romance - no time to look at my ornaments,
even missing tv - 'Holby City' and 'Eastenders' instalments.
One day I woke up and thought that I was dead,
moments later, I felt a cold steel at the back of my head.