Long Duke Poems
Long Duke Poems. Below are the most popular long Duke by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Duke poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm Boss Hogg and Rosco keeps trying to eat my food.
It's been my dream to see Daisy Duke in the nude.
The Duke boys keep fighting me because I'm a crook.
If you do business with me, you're going to get took.
Lulu is my wife and she's even fatter than me.
I'm going to hire a hitman so that I can be free.
It really bothers me because Rosco is my brother-in-law.
I puked all over the floor because Lulu just took off her bra.
Rosco can't catch the Duke boys, the souped up General Lee causes him to fail.
I will see Daisy naked and I won't rest until those Duke boys are in jail!
(This poem was inspired by The Dukes of Hazzard TV show which is my 2nd favorite TV show.)
Have you ever seen the satanic snake?
A fierce cheetah hunting with no mistake
A bloodthirsty wolf in the black sheep's clothes
How would it be if you find all in close?
Richard the third, the most villainous Duke
Known as a treacherous and selfish kook
Holds the status of the Duke of Gloucester
A saboteur, schemes as an imposter
Possess an ugly build with a hunchback
Hides his flaws as a professional flack
Feels menial for his deformity
Handles things with extreme enormity
A power monger and it's very clear
Cares not even to kill his near and dear
Strategically waits for chance and grabs
With his honeyed words, he always backstabs
By hook or by crook, wants to seize the throne
Cheats Lady Anne with his convincing tone
Spreads rumours to showcase the heirs unfit
Executes those who thwart with his outwit
When the battle at Bosworth in full swing
Stanley takes a U-turn and quits the ring
Unhorsed Richard cries out losing the source
'A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse"
A ruthless tyrant with no repentance
For him, there isn't any moral sentence
The Bard's 'wicked uncle' gets the title role
Invites the crowds' interest on the whole
7/5/21
"Seventh Heaven (007)"
According to local legend
Regarding the Great Depression
And Armageddon
Nearing seventh heaven
Still on that 007
Sent him and her toward hell or heaven
Close to or far from a 711
At approximately 11:07
En route and hot pursuit
Of the root of the absolute
Yet it always leads to a dispute
Staying ready to shoot
If need be leave thee scene and scoot
Many quick to snoop
And toot their own horn or flute
Quick to call another uncouth
Acceptance or rebuke
It's the truth
Not a spoof or fluke
And what they dilute
Able or couldn't compute
Therefore it was a bloop
Since a youth
In and out the booth
Occasionally having a drink with Vermouth
In space with a spacesuit
On earth eating grapes and grapefruit
Had a baseball card of Babe Ruth
As an addict
Still at it
Or gave it the boot
A world full of kooks
Threatening to nuke
The cycle continues to loop
They don't but they should be addressing me as the Duke
But they continue to stoop
Staying solo or in a group
Never really getting the inside scoop
Because they're being duped
All your fans adored you for many years.
Great starring in roles brought both laughter and tears.
Seeing you up on the screen larger than life,
was glorious, and cut through me like a knife.
The movies you starred in were a plethora.
When with Claire Trevor or Maureen O’Hara,
you were one of Hollywood’s best leading men.
When I saw you on television again,
as a fighting cowboy in the old Wild West,
your acting was brilliant, and among the best.
In your war pictures, and in detective parts,
you were impressive, winning movie fans’ hearts.
Though you are now gone, we will remember you,
having genuine acting talent so true.
There’s someone that you want to kill,
but ride it out, avoid the rope?
You’d spare the chair in prisonville?
Then I am here to give you hope!
Number one, you don’t want blood.
Don’t be Wilson, be Joe Starrett.
You’ll never come to any good
the day you spill your victim’s claret.
Blood will give the game away.
They’ll find the pattern on the wall,
connect you to his DNA.
You’ve never heard of Luminol?
And throw away that mobile phone.
The slowest of slow learners?
Read my lipsalve, Al Capone –
nothing’s safe – not even burners!
You ditched the stiff in some dark wood,
so far away, you drove for hours –
the cops can prove the spot you stood,
while pinging off the local towers!
You’re seeking an illicit gun
(in London slang, a ‘moody shooter’).
Want a tip? I’ll give you one –
don’t type it on your home computer!
You won’t believe what suspects ask.
Do ligatures require a knot?
Where can I buy a full-face mask?
How long do bodies take to rot?
The first thing that the cops will do
(believe me – it’s no mystery)
is take your Dell and rummage through
the questions in your history.
It’s mushrooms that you need to use:
they’ll do the job, without a doubt:
put Dapperlings in your ragouts,
Destroying Angels (check them out).
Eat some yourself, but check the dose.
Be plausible. Moan loud, and puke.
It bothers you, to get so gross?
We’re killers, pal – not Daisy Duke!
Leave no fragments in the fern.
You want your partner/mother dead?
Shun that gun, friend: spurn the burn:
deathcaps are the way ahead!
The sweet Megan Markle had that bright sparkle
for she landed herself a true prince
Our dear handsome Harry, was never contrary
But the Queen he had to convince
All Britain is fawning, this is a new dawning
for actress turned royal brings fame
the coffers are filling, and tourism's thrilling
The Duke and the Duchess are game
The wedding's now history, no longer a myst'ry
the world watched each detail in awe
this couple got hitched as each lose thread got stitched
There was not a single guffaw
Traditions respected, through some circumvented
the bride added much to the day
A curtsy forgotten, does not make her rotten
Just strong willed as some critics say
Her dress was straight lined, demure and refined
the make-up was simple and sweet
Prince George and Charlotte, they made us all gloat
Their goodness must warrant a treat
I'm happy for Harry, he is a dear chappy
his smiles tell the world all is well
the pre-wedding drama, that long pause or comma
forgotten, for now all is swell
So the 19th of May was quite a big day
It showed fairy tales still come true
Now young ladies know, to put beauty on show
The next story could be about you.
Eileen Manassian
The Domed Teapot Movie Team stores
good running electrical engineering supplies for
the apprentice vape tester stationed
for training with other code guy
system connectors near the
erectifying rainbow falls of
Mr. Mojo's Old City
WHEREAS(S)
the Eccentric Frontier Goldmine Foundation State has
discovered a recent reference model indicating that
the Eclectic Ghoul Aid Company has failed the
combined skating/scooter/car/bike and
forest river vehicle acid test (though they
did oddly OVER_perform with
dirty toothbrushes while on
motorcycles)
ALL OF WITCH LEAVES US WITH
an Elected Peach Boutique Box Collection of
shadow games and chic cottage band
energies perfectly suited to the
Enneagram Test Cook's home decor
NUT TO MENTION (MUNCH ON?)
the elliptically concentric doctor of the
Goon Power Kingdom where
mad duke predicament bosses are
obsessed with my contraption wheel
drop way of UNDER_thinking the
biased fallacy of self-data camera
set collectors viewing the erect or
oral bored college process that
involves repairing old farts for
recyling at flea markets.
I loved you John Wayne!
I wished you were my father
or maybe an older brother
who’d tutor me to be tough
when manners weren’t enough
and toughness was needed
that civility be heeded
and not to brag or complain.
O I loved you John Wayne!
As soon as I was old enough
to earn the price of admission
I saw your films in succession
at the first run houses down
in the big deal part of town
and enshrined each one on a list
taped to my bedside wall
and read about the ones I’d missed.
Shucks, I loved you most of all!
Fort Apache and Red River
took pride of place on the page;
they’d eaten up my weekly wage.
I missed the Yellow Ribbon;
I hoped I’d be forgiven.
At the Rio and the Broad
(in a dicey neighborhood)
I atoned with films you’d done
before I was even born.
Western after Western
and tales of oil and whiskey
and scheming ladies, O so risky!
I hoped I’d be excused
when I compromised my muse
by adding well-built gals
to Duke and all his pals.
Montez, Russell, and Lake
made my hormones quake.
O I loved you, John Wayne.
I could feel your bashful pain
When the pretty lady roped you
and hat in hand you’d bow,
the furrow deepening on your brow,
and utter monosyllables plus “Ma’am,”
no longer a ram, more like a lamb.
O I shared you pain, John Wayne!
And still I loved you John Wayne,
your true grit and donnybrook,
your menacing brow, the look
that said, “Enough, my friend.
“This bull is going to end!”
You swaggered? (not quite it--
as if your boots didn’t quite fit?)
You took him by the horns and shook;
Plomp! Down went the snook!
How I loved you, John Wayne!
And I love you still when again I see
the doughty Duke on my smart TV
as much as Papa’s lone old man,
with fish chewed down to the bone
loved Joltin’ Joe Dimaggio
when the Clipper’s legs began to go
and he was hobbled by his heel.
John Wayne, you were the real deal.
The countess Olivia fails to realize
that this page named Cesario is a woman in disguise.
As a messenger, Cesario is just one more.
Again, Olivia has to chase another from her door.
I understand that Duke Orsino has the hots for me.
However, I being a lover of his cannot be.
I am becoming very annoyed because of this.
You should go back and tell him to mind his own business.
Hold on there, young page named Cesario.
You look like someone I would like to get to know.
A handsome young man with good manners is what I see.
Perhaps you would be a good match for me.
In the near future, you and I could keep each other company.
based on the play "Twelfth Night" by William Shakespeare
Time, it sometimes can shift at edge of night.
where TV mingles with your drowsing thoughts,
old lovers duke it out in some gunfight;
defending cousins in some ancient forts.
Your mother's arms protect you from wild dogs.
Somewhere, father is asking, "Where’s the beef?"
while you are outside chopping winter's logs
for Mickey Mouse's long-gone coral reef.
And you, upon the couch, view all of this.
You are, you say, superior; supine.
So have been all through time, you reminisce.
Yet more so through consumption of red wine.
The TV will soon die, and you awake.
Then who will witness those that you forsake?