Long Doo Poems
Long Doo Poems. Below are the most popular long Doo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Doo poems by poem length and keyword.
January 24th, 2023 Hair washing heralds huge happening
Hark….the herald angels sing, and twitter
for mass communication
mediums stop the presses
when I, a regular schlemiel
take shampoo to mine matted mass mop
(no less than once a week)
of straggly follicles, and commence
to dispense with the heady eco system
viz rare crop of flora and fauna
(some rank as endangered species)
rub and band together
to scratch envy of
flaky key neigh bring ponytails
and create quite an niche,
and where also can be found
lousy knit wit vendors ready to scalp
and give shaft to razor sharp purveyors,
who mane lee scout out available
head and shoulder room to nap
without a stir, tub bed down
(praying Holy Scott no wash out
nor Harris mint occurs),
or burrow vis a vis,
where subcutaneous porous droplet size
watership down pieces
of prime residence found
counting one mister comb lee
bald bold faced realtor
amidst competing rival
bulb buss Edward scissorhands
(with knot to heavy a price toupee)
affianced to rapunzel,
whom he sheared split ends
as her barber of civil,
one dapper dander ruff dude to offer
lice cent shuss insects a tonsured
cut above other stylish habitués
preferring to fraternize,
glad-hand, and hobnob
amidst a cluster of big wigs
housed by yours truly - Samson
in gleaming puffy pompadour
pads tightly secured
with the best dreadlocks,
which harum-scarum
green barrettes serve
as first line of rinse able defense
IdentityGuard (with franchisee
Bob O Link averse to split hairs, but fierce
as a Mohawk and ring leader
to protect any curl of mine)
waving away intruders,
who if insist tubby persistent
and tangle with fate
cannot expect camaraderie
from buzz cutting crew i.e. the fuzz
to give expletive filled lathering,
severe shame poo wing subjugation
plus an up braiding experience),
and teach stragglers
they will suffer
a real perm in hint bang up job
if they brazenly brush
against brylcreem of the crop
rooted as rightful heirs
(hairs) of tousled doo mane,
thus concludes my tail.
Postscript: Yours truly
an aging long haired
seventh generation pencil neck geek
finds ultra joy when
volunteering for kitchen duty,
hence imagine the hypothetical picture
portraying Geico caveman
mimicking pseudo dawn of humanity.
it's September and the new school year is now off the ground
but there's this crazy phenomenon happening called dumbing down
basically our children have decided that it's not very cool
if you're seen as being someone who's very smart in school
they're getting grades on the level of just barely passing through
for if you look too smart the others will make fun of you
but what the generation of today fails to see
is that education is the key to greater opportunity
when I think of the struggle my ancestors had in order to get educated
to be given a chance to one day become economically elevated
then I look around the word and have come to realize
that children in third world nations see education as a great prize
dumbing down is the latest form of mental slavery today
sabotaging our children's success and stopping their equal pay
to follow the status quo just to appear cool
dumbing down their assets to act like simple fools
no marketable skills and no chance to succeed
emulating those artists who rap about money, violence and greed
how will they ever compete in this global economy
when they don't even possess a basic college degree?
dumbing down their assets instead of doing them up
walking around wondering why they now have empty cups
they need to use that gift from God which is their smarts
and get that education which in life will give them a head start
and whatever they go on to do in their lives be it in either word or in deed
pray that they do it in Jesus' name and plant a mighty seed
don't let the world discourage them and attempt to keep them down
elevate them in Jesus' name and plant them on higher ground
they run around with their pants hanging off their butts and doo-rags on their heads
looking like street gang executioners and not Wall Street executives instead
as parents we've got to do our best to make sure they get educated
as parents we've got to pray for them and make sure in the Word they're elevated
so pray for them, cry over them and help them to do their best
encourage them and let them know they can be better than all the rest
the children are our future, our hope and our legacy
so make sure as parents that they get every opportunity
making it great in 2008 by telling your kids to do it up and not dumb down
just make sure you do it in Jesus' name and with love abound
Peter Pan? He is nothing but a tale drawn out,
a hero of half-truths, drowned in fairy dust,
the dullest side of a double-edged sword.
Before my time lost its salt,
before the boards of this ship were
chapped, split with oceans breath,
before my features grew distinct with age,
a treasure map, carved and creased,
I found myself in Neverland,
as the first dear friend of Peter Pan.
His mind, repressed by the adventures of youth,
has forgotten how young I once was.
Even wiser pirates such as myself
must work to picture a single moment.
Its the sea that causes it,
as time curls and crashes like waves
against toothy rocks,
small histories are bound to vanish.
Yet, in my steely snare, just one memory remains:
When Peter called me James.
The roads we drew in play led us to water,
and how empty we found it!
A voyage was our grandest idea.
In agreement we labored,
drew up clean sails, lacquered lumber.
Christened with a sailors poison,
the Jolly Roger in its finest form!
We followed the arms and legs of rivers,
watching as they became larger bodies,
waters unconquered, unkinged.
My calloused hand brushed the helm,
Peter drew his sword,
mortally pressing its edge to my throat.
You or me, James, he said,
to be a captain or a codfish!
With a smug grin he pounced,
cleaving the air with great circles,
the sharp clanging of metal rang in the mist like bells.
My brow so pinched in focus, first wrinkles formed,
til at last, my blade struck his side.
Peter fell, outdone.
Your cockiness has left you bleeding.
With my hand held out,
his eyes grew bright and bursting like broken stars.
With a smile wild and white, he let out a powerful crow:
Aye, but I’m a clever doodle-doo!
Another crow, he dove at the hand that bested him.
A pain, a demon, a hell!
Honest blood from my moral flesh.
A black pain shook my blackening soul,
As I watched a crocodile feast on the gift
God had meant for my own purposes.
Peter crowed once more.
I watched as he flew on,
his blood dripping into my ocean,
my kingdom!
May this Jolly Roger forever tread
upon the waves of a crowing cowards blood.
I accept the role of villain,
the rival of the wondrous, flying boy,
but may you never forget who won the sea,
and who it is the codfish, be.
"Camptown Races sing this song, Do Dah! Do Dah!"
( sung incessantly by a certain, unique rooster.)
Henry Hawke: ( Sung to Holly Jolly Christmas:)
" I'll be there and back by sunset.
There's a chicken there for me!
Mom and Dad will be proud, you bet!
when a chicken, they'll see!"
Henry: ( Sung to Arkansas Traveler:)
" I think that there's a chicken, yes, indeed!
No need to check, that's a chicken, yes, siree!
I know that that's a chicken , yes, indeed!
Even though he has a snout for pecking at the seed!"
POW! ( cue woozy music.)
Barnyard Dog:
Hey, wait a minute, kid!
Have you flipped your lid!"
Henry:
" I hit you a good one and I'm the winner!
Now come along with me! You're what's for dinner!"
Barnyard Dog:
" Eh, kid.. I'm a dog, don't you get it!
Now, scram! Before I make you regret it!"
" Camptown races, sing this song..
I say , I say.. it's not the words,
son, it's the song
It kind of.. eh, moves me along, err.."
Henry:
" Oh, the shame!
The family name!
Life for me will never be the same!"
Barnyard Dog:
" Someone's given you the bum steer!"
He looks at Henry crying.
" Kind of gets you right here..
Tell ya, what, kid!
I'll give you a real clucker with all the feathers!
Now listen to me, the sooner the better.." Pss. psst. pss..
"Camptown Races, Uhh, oh, I say, I say..
What do we have here?!
An unholy alli, alli alli, joining together.
and the word is ..Beware!"
I say, son!
What are, what are you doing here
in my little slice of paradise?!"
Henry:
"Ehh, Mister Cock-a-Doodle Doo..
I'd turn around if I were you!"
"Heh, heh heh..
Obviously, this boy believes
that I was born yesterday
if not the day before!
Let me lead him on a little more.."
"Just what am I supposed to see, there, ehh, son?
The rising moon? The setting sun? Heh, Heh, Heh.."
BAM!
"I, I, I think I've been way layed.
I, I, better look for some shade.."
PLOP!
"That boy's got more nerve than a bum tooth!
ehh, that's a joke, son!
Miss Prissy! My my time has come too soon!"
Eeee, THUD!
Henry and Barnyard Dog( together.):
"Geez, What a maroon!"
Cue the Looney Tunes end music.
(" Eer.. That's your cue, son!")
" Can't find no good cartoon help these days!" THUD!
THAT'S ALL FOLKS!
Dragon found a Fairy Ring and quickly jumped inside! Heaven Forbid!
Dancing round and round, he suddenly disappeared. Yes! He surely did!
As he disappeared I knew that trouble would without doubt, now ensue.
So I blew out my breath, and immediately did the same, I’d seen him do.
As I landed, I followed the mob, knowing Dragon would be in demand.
Sure enough, there he stood with the great sword Excalibur, in his hand.
The future King Arthur was standing empty handed, looking kinda sad.
Merlin, however, not amused, started chasing Dragon and looking mad.
Without Arthur to pull the sword from the stone, Camelot wouldn’t be built.
You might say that Dragon was in deep doo doo, all the way up to the hilt.
Things progressed far worse, as Merlin shot crazy magic at Dragon’s face.
He missed Dragon… leaving ‘Sir Mouse a lot’, in Sir Lancelot’s place.
Dragon dodged a magic bolt, from Merlin, hitting Sir Gwain, like a mace.
Yep, if this kept up, the whole round table was about to end, without a trace.
So I jumped Merlin, bringing him to the ground, as I screamed at Dragon!
Put that blooming sword down!… As in: YEP! BACK IN THE STONE!!!
But by then I was changed to a frog, and a few croaks were the only sounds.
Old England had become the new Mayhem Falls, both alive and now found.
Suddenly, Grandpa Troll appeared, yanking the sword from Dragon’s hand.
Putting it back in the stone, he bowed to Merlin and all of his medieval land.
Next he grabbed Dragon by the ear, and me as I hopped across the ground.
We quickly made an exit… by use of the Fairy Ring, now so very profound.
Camelot’s problems, would no doubt, be from ‘Sir Mouse A Lot’s’ overload.
Imagine what might have been, if we’d never helped see, that day bestowed.
Would the world have been better? Would Camelot have longer survived?
We’ll never know. But the Moral is: Beware of Fairy Rings and Dragons!
For they can bring about the worlds end, as we know it, on any given day!
Camelot had that story put on a Tapestry along with Arthur’s great event.
He dutifully, also, pulled the sword from the stone… Yep… You might say…
For them it had become ‘A Great News Day!’ As I did ribbit and hop away!
Written by Carol Eastman 8-29-2016
Besides noticing a few people who quickly turned away into the stores, (like a cockroach when the light switch is activated.) Penney also noticed that she had forgotten her bra. Well, she didn't forget one and didn't usually even wear one, but in this instance it really helped them out. The husbands upon noticing and gawking were blocking the path to them briefly, until they noticed Michael "bouncing" and got the hell out of dodge. But any amount of aid they could get was welcomed. They really needed an ace in the hole. If they could distract Michael long enough to enter the "escape rooms", then even if seen, they could run the Scooby Doo gang "nether realm voodoo portal gag" with all those doors in there, would really be a shot in the arm to their "staying alive" campaign. Well, son of a , it would be alot of fun and after all they had been through today, that would be just what the doctor ordered (if he was a non licensed witch doctor nurse practitioner, like on the Mario Bros. Cartoons, remember when he made that itching powder?, that was awesome!) For that matter, I wonder who could eat more, Scooby or Yoshi? Hey, wait a minute, wth do you think this is, you trying to pull a fast one? Back to the action.
The mall Easter Bunny was making his rounds after a liquid lunch and some car "video viewing". As Mr. Cottontale noticed Penney, she noticed him and "gave him notice", if you know what I mean. Some military Men on leave noticed too and saluted. The Bunny noticed Michael pursuing and did not need the competetion. He stuck out his leg and sent Michael flying into the railing, that sending blood gushing from Michaels nose as it planted a kiss onto the hardwood. It didn't deter Michael, however, the First Ladyboy picked himself up and the eight inch Bowie Knife (a knife given to him by David Bowie) that had spilled onto the hard tile floor. Gus who had noticed this from his hiding vantage point (and job as scout) from the escape room thought, hey, it has been well over three minutes, Michael must have ditched or disarmed the bomb during all of this. But that knife looked serious. He was not about to take his chances with a crazed lunatic.....
Form:
Your innocence has blinded you from the real world makin any sense,
what's that? Say your done with it..?
Na you ain't done with this
were not even to the second quarter ya idiot,
you see life goes on without you and me,
there's still plenty of the birds and the bees,
millions of trees,
were just here to be part of history,
Scooby doo it and done it and discover some mysteries
on the scale of the universe and galaxies,
I want to be there to witness the unraveling of reality
and the tearing of causality,
need a front row seat,
can't see nothin in the nosebleeds,
i got questions to seek
cause the answers you're giving me are bleak,
got my knees shakin n feelin weak
but i keep goin cause I'm just one of them freaks,
psycho kid,
don't know when to give up cause i just never did,
you know that's messed with my head,
wish you could hear the thoughts I think layin in bed,
but I can't remember,
every time I sleep its like an eternal slumber,
I move to the fourth dimension
and can't tell my letters from numbers,
its outta wack and suddenly winter is summer
and though I'm walkin I'm a runner,
I'm a peaceful guy on the ground, while also shootin at you in a chopper gunner,
see how that works,
nope.. Cause you can't read between the quirks,
you don't know what its like to feel fine and still hurt,
to act like earnie but feel like Bert,
so thick headed
don't know the difference between and kilt and a skirt,
I think you're mind is fried and burnt,
but it could be mine,
so off the rails
can't tell the difference of space and time,
in plain sight but I'm tryin to hide,
hands bound behind my back and still tryin to fight,
I'm in the daylight but feels like its the middle of night,
tryin to cut you but what's in my hand is not a knife,
its a small little vile of blight,
once infected,
no matter how tough,
you're death will be expected
to make a few heads spin,
you're walkin on needles and pins,
the smallest amount of pain
and you're whole body will cringe,
be careful!
you don't know your and the fringe of this cliff,
one more step and you'll meet your end...
Need a push?
While out and about
an unexpected over bare ring bout
to defecate arose,
where sphincter asserted clout
and would excrete
despite without doubt...
if closing distance
(to reach rental abode)
beaten out by loosening sphincter muscle
transmitting excretory code
set sights on prowl for outlawed, secluded,
and wooded make shift commode
and essentially for naught negating
toddler toilet training, sans
getting potty trained undone
via my tushy ready to explode
and blast immense solid waste byproduct
(oh...close to the size of Rhode Island)
thus a marathon race against time
found immediate readiness to pull off roadside
to access make shift water closet
generating image firmly in pooping mode
grabbing hold of a tree trunk
(a mini rocky horror picture show, -
this analogy included for no particular reason
other than as a non-sequitur)
and also to convey, how I tried
to allay distractions
while painful contractions flowed
(perhaps approximating woman
on verge of giving birth)
but...no matter, aye could envision,
an ever increasing heavy m*****f****** load
hence approaching Highland Manor Apartments
this chap abandoned
prior simultaneous evacuation plan
starkly aware probability for secluded spot sunk
(nonetheless, thy darting darting
anguish, futile lizard like lookout,
a geico Gekko whose cheeks did blush
even for a measly Georgian bush
quickened nsync with rectal spasms
visual scouting industrialized
where backhoes didst crush
once a time sacred happy hunting grounds
of native Americans, now royally flush
with newly built vinyl city re: urban sprawl a gush,
where cookie cutter houses long since bringing hush
puppies muzzled, yet never the less and mush
a doo doo about nothing) except sprint
ting to the verizon with a void push
immortalizing indigenous tribes ghosts rush
peopling infrastructure affixing
urbanization with lamb basted,
and sigh lance warrior whoosh!
Doctors getting exposed like popes,
Caught pulling the rope a dope,
Falling down the entropic slope,
No integrity - can't cope,
Seats of power to dethrone,
Why don't y'all extradite your own?
If ya catch a sleeper near ya,
Take that tommy peeper,
To the nearest theatre,
And expose that creature,
Its the latest greatest feature,
In reality media,
Put it on wikipedia,
We like, "Dawg, we hear ya!"
Stuff ain't black and white,
So let's punk these zebras,
Walkin' 'round like libras,
How 'bout we take their medicine,
To debilitate libidos,
Of ghouls in tuxedos,
Friggin' neato,
Now let's stop the peep show.
We gon' Murder, lazy suckers in art,
Not in the streets, are you a stinking sweet tart?
Be smart, avoid Agents Provocateurs,
Lessons learned from disturbed dealings with nerds,
I'm jealous of every one of you free punks,
Livin' lux' cuz you learned math and redux,
Methodology, just watchin' the flux,
Making rational decisions and earning big bucks,
Sucks to me be me cuz I'm a sensitive nut,
Driving the short bus right into a rut,
I once thought I was a cut above the rest,
Perhaps blessed,
But when putting faith to the test,
I found a lot of hex, and now maybe I'm vexed,
I realized my faith wasn't in myself,
It was in the rest,
So I went on a quest to discover why I felt,
And my feelings lead me straight to hell.
OMJeepers creepers,
Would ya get a load of these sheepish creatures?
Could ya set a tone of leaner demeanor?
Should ya live by the vote of some evil geezers?
I'm gettin' at the throat of some evil deeds,
I'm pullin' out weeds like, "who planted these?"
Some GMO seeds, like, "do we really need these?"
These things we see have an invisible leash,
I breath, I eat, I sleep, I compete,
I discriminate based on character for real,
No Little Bo Peep gon' convince me,
That skin means stink,
Look sir, I'm free,
To use intuition to see into you,
Sleuthin' through the politics that consume you,
Communistic who's who protruding through all the doo-doo,
You know this, Excentrix is super glue sticky dude.
This poet decided against
becoming a measly minced meaty morsel
undetected inauspicious augury
assigning adept
aqueous ace AOL amphibian,
who surreptitiously crept
to the secret crypt (guarded by
foo fighters and amazing dragons)
said gendarmes did except
special fluid scrip as egress into
heavily fortified
(with USDA recommended allowance),
thus when the configurative motley crue
including thyself (a bono fied doo
bee brother - long given up for lost,
which "FAKE" oracle
misinterpreted by a goo goo
doll, and cross dresser named Hugh
played being took a vow el,
and hence consonantly knew
all along, i dwelt peacefully
in a soundcloud loo
immensely spacious with ooh
dills of survival trappings
purchased from Peru
laborers treated by free pact
guaranteeing a socially
conscious shopper to rue
painstaking indigenous stoop labor,
now stamped imprimatur could allow,
enable and provide means to shoe
each formerly eczema dappled,
cracked bare foot
ah, a glimmer of hopefulness
(upon this crowded house of a planet) view
which youtube snapchat ting
reddit as joyous outlook
sans linkedin shutterfly,
twitter ring tender flickr ring shoots
communicated an instagram message
of hopefulness kickstarting optimism
versus the initial thread of this poem,
which to set this got off track
(hinting at goal to be
a paperback book writer wannabe)
rather than ending up as a byte size snack
for a limbering beast, into whose tumblr
of one jagged razor sharp teeth
like daggers lined up along a rack
of reinforced steel maw,
which bang for the bite did pack
leaves no room for bing a survivor
as fierce jaws clamp down
worse than getting steam rolled by a mack
truck, but subjected to thee yield,
whence thousands of pounds
per square inch of pressure
on par lambasted from Donald Trump flack.