Long Dum Poems
Long Dum Poems. Below are the most popular long Dum by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dum poems by poem length and keyword.
Nutty grandpa president
is talking crazy uncle Donald again
His little Chucky thumbs
is tapping epithet tweet nonsense
Batty grandpa’s been
grumpily sucking
on the hate hot sauce bottle
stashed in his KKK closet
Now he’s sporting a Commander-in-Chief cap,
dressed in a wrinkled birthday suit
Churlish grandpa wanna blow the nuclear candles out
in his Oval padded room
He’s trying to smear his coconut-frosted
pejorative German chocolate cake
on every African looking face
Calling Doctor Strangelove and nurse Annie Wilkes Misery,
bad Grandpa is verbally pooping all over the place
His anti-social, mood swing meds
is scattered everywhere on the bed
Nutty grandpa prez
is a stable genius he says
But his schizophrenia behavior
is open and shut caged rage ... Jekyll and Hyde
Hannibal Lecter ... American Gothic suicide
Old Grandpa says
young women love him like Frankenstein’s bride
His paranoid soul
got a misogynist itch
in it’s nether parts
Curmudgeon grandpa claims he’s really rich,
and has an Ebenezer Scrooge heart
Nutty grandpa prez don’t like no immigrants
who came from where he ain’t
Straight jacket truth wraps him wrong,
he loves to swear that he’s no saint
Crazy grandpa just wanna roam the West Wing halls at night,
cursing at everybody left and right
His angry autocrat ticker just wanna be dictator loved
with family suck-up sniveling loyalty
Cuckoo grandpa flew his nest egg eyes over someone in the staff,
whose nurse Ratched mirror image greedy
Nutty grandpa president just got another person fired
for improper cleansing backside kissing
And the raucous din,
rising from the voter base-ment,
means it’s electoral shock therapy time again
So lock the border doors —
keep it dissent quiet, dum-dum
Czar grandpa prez don’t like all that democratic noise
Silence of the lambs,
that soothing lullaby hum
Is the sweet sound
that calms his Joker tweeting thumbs
Rest your rage, nutty grandpa prez:
Uneasily snore deeply,
wearing your Mad Hatter MAGA brim
(keep having more troubled, neo-Nazi policy dreams
of Making America Great Again)
As the White House hospice staff is issuing
M.A.S.H unpatriotic greetings
to Parallel reality refugees
seeking insane asylum ...
Welcome, to the Oval Sanatorium
Sometimes I just wish I could stop time,were what we do and say,won't end up making each other cry, in this pass few days I been digging out the love you buried deep in my heart, and i try to put our promises back together,but they still look torn apart, sometimes I just wish I could stop time,and run away from all this,were is a God when you need him,sir pleace try to fix my heart, oh that's right ,things happen for a reason,lesson learn ,it hurts when you get played and even worst when you get cheated, sometimes I just wish we could be kids again,were everything didn't make since,now look everything is clear like water,if we fall we will fall ten times harder , mom isn't here anymore,we finally grew up,sometimes I just wish I could stop time,and make funny faces to does mean people that bully me,can you Imagine just kicking everyone you no were,than click play,watch as the world cries and feels pain,
Sometimes I wish I could go back,and hold you tight just one more time,but than I realize I wasn't good for you,
Let me just reset and star over,I wish that could come true,this is reality silly,game over,close the circle,let her breathe,better yet give her the silent speak,when she says IM sorry I lost my numbers on my phone,who is this? I'll just say no one important,just wanted to know how you were,than watch as that message never gets answer,sometimes I think God does the same,I wounded if he stops time and cries out as loud as he can,lucky at least no one makes fun of him,at least he doesn't get played,he is our creator,I was just a joke to him, that's why he made me this way,I wish we could be kids again,were we belive everything they say,school was always a waist of time,they gave the lessons first than the test,the difference in life,we get the test first than the lesson,sometimes I just wish you could keep your promise,the one were you promise to stay forever and always,now look your gone,first to come and first to leave,sadly IM use to it,your such a dum ass ,yea that's me,to finish my act,I'll just sit all alone and pretend you actually didn't lie,when you said I was your best friend, were are you now besty,oh that's right far away, hopefully you don't mine,but sometimes I wish I could hug you tight as I stop time.
Sunlight waves
I look out into the world with drunken haze...
ever liked to hop on one leg and change the other?
Try it, you could tell which one is better; which one is sturdy, which one is weak.
Touch the stuble hair down there
You know, the ones between your knee
What other place is there to touch?
Are we getting frisky?
They're like tiny hammer nails, scratching on your fingerprint
Will it mess up your identity?
That tiny little cinch
Like a tear on a womens stocking; or could we still call it hoisery?
Why the thin lace, why the border; like the feeling of some order
Some reserve perhaps...
Hey
what do youy say?
shall we take a stroll together
an awckward feeling walk
where we could be so very open
and scare ourselves a bit
not knowing what the other says
not understanding the others jokes:
Every see a funny man cry?
Crying with his mouth and smiling with his eyes
All because his girlfriend got plastic surgery
He was happy for the rack, but when he check his wallet he was short stacked
Pu-Dum-Ching!
Hmmmm no good
Do watch the night sky and hope for a U.F.O
Undergarments Forfiting Options
...A bet the boys would like that
Boys...
Men...
That an interesting thing
I wonder when we stick with one, does the urge stay for a fling?
Is that what moves us from animal to man?
Tolerance and Control
I love you for I stay
But!
My apetite tells me to go, and go, and go
STOP!
GO!
Oh I don't know
Interesting many subjects floating in my head
I hope its not as original as I fed
but isn't it nice to be a little wierd?
The sun is shining thin
That answer's never clear
FabelFortySix
PrinterBlood
CharlaXFabel
A Dragnet RippOFF
DUM de DUM DUM de DUM da DUM
“SGT FrYdaY the man came in the office and eye told him to wait there is that
right?”
“That's right Bill.”
“Captain Gannon to you son.”
“The ink was red?” This was FrYdaY.
“The color was the same for blood. We think it was the Crops who done that.”
Gannon
“Crips. Its Crips not crops.” FrYdaY
“Yeah. Yeah.” Gannon
Frank Smith “it could have been the bloods it's the same thing ain’t it the red ink
supposed to look like blood see eh???”
Reminds me of the time Tillie my wife she spilled some black ink from the printer
all over my?” “What JOE what was that?”
“ just the facts Frank Tillie is a fine woman.”FrYdaY
THE MAN: “They came in two at a time.”
“How’s that” Frank said.
“Let me handle this one Frank,”FrYdaY
“What was that MAN?”
“Two Two at a time you said?”
"Just the facts ma'am"eye meant
OH SIR I’m sorry I’m so used to saying that on my investigations” FrYdaY
Colored. “How do you knoe that” ma’am
Sorry sir did it again
Sorry” FrYdaY
This is not going so well let’s start over.
Eye am Detective FrYdaY this is my partner Frank Smith.
The Captain is Bill Gannon my old Partner he carries a cannon.
“Really?” This was the man wide awake now
FrYdaY “Yes really it’s in the trunk of his patrol car the sign on the door says
LAPD Captain it's a FORD.”
Sometimes we drive down the boulevard and stick the cannon out the windows.
NO one seems to notice us
The MAN turned White and blanched.
“The printer ink was changed to red the Bloods were out of town we think it was
the crips go around and round them up” This was Gannon to Frank and Joe.
Frank was talking now “Ain’t they the ones with the blue bandanas and the
tattoos of the Gay sailors?”
“Yeah Yeah that's it” FrYdaY said.
“The Bloods have red bandanas and tattoos of Gay Marines” Frank almost
smiled.
Joe smiled it looked like a flat fish going south.
Frank and Bill both stopped at the door and smiled at Joe.
“You coming Joe?” they laughed in unison.
Episode One Printer Blood is over. Come back later for the results the finding of
the Los Angeles courts. DUM DE DUM DUM.
Remember all the Wise Men on their knees upon your yacht?
With orphans on their backs they’d crawled (with others that they’d brought)
Through rubble on the highway sands and residues of Lot.
They came from severed cities selling postcards of your thoughts,
Though offered for a penny piece, not even worth a jot.
They mused
“How are you feeling? What it is you want, you’ve got.
The words you scrawl on calling cards: ‘I AM – the others NOT’
Shun wisdoms of the Seven Seas: ‘Salvation can’t be bought’ –
Your fathers tried before you and your fathers came to naught.
“You started out by gelding goats and then by casting lots
Of bodies to the battlefields, contorted, tight and taut,
Then wallowed in the wake of trails the dervish devil trots.
“With marching bands of fatherlands, and drums of Hottentots,
You lure your legions in harm’s way like giant juggernauts.
Like Tweedle Dum your minions come (the sober and the sots,
The troglodytes, barbarians, and mislead patriots,
The Vandals, Huns and Hannibals and seaport Cypriots,
The Japanese, the Congolese, Americans and Scots)
To vanquish bows and arrows, spears and catapulted shots
Of those who hide in bamboo huts their families, pale, distraught,
(Their withered wives with dried up breasts, their swollen babes in cots)
Who swoon, engulfed in poison darts and vats of acid hot,
Consumed by magic mushroom clouds, atomic megawatts.
“In churches of your deities, your Holy Huguenots,
Your Imams, Rabbis, Voodoo Dolls and Mitered Lancelots
Lit wicked kindled candled walls in temples (while we fought)
(Used pins and needles, magic spells on makeshift mock whatnots)
And mosques, cathedrals, synagogues have blessed each new onslaught
With prayers for pipers, puppets, pawns, your rigid armed robots.
Continued in Part 2…
Head hunting shrinking cutting down the ego’s totems
swift blow to the pride of me myself and I selfish iotum
Dethroning the king of the wooden hut whack
with my cocoa machete not a hard nut to crack
A pleasant island where all could be yours
into a worldly nutshell the sincere milk pours
Spirit’s truth mercy celebrates an island victory
on big stick impelled the selfish iotum fire dried
Denying then mortifying the me myself and I
no more sin eating witchdoctor’s couch I abhor
Appeasing ceremonial volcano’s apatite no more
for my God the Lord of Truth has cut down the idols
No search party for selfish iotum’s pole revival
ego’s totem lies dead beneath the water fall
Heard no more war drum’s da dum da dum
the big stick plumb all enemies had to succumb
One swift blow truth has cut ego’s totem’s lies to root
rising no more the king of the wooden taboo
A new King Jesus with out me myself and I
King enthroned this hut is becoming an island paradise
Pitching electioneering, albeit Democratic ticket...
as 2020 presidential election nearing
pleading joshing, and endearing...
The choice for commander in chief dum...
dum... dum... dum..
will winnow down, thus
political prognosticator pundits
no longer remain mum
between Donald John Trump,
whose second term win,
would find yours truly numb
versus Joseph Robinette Biden Junior
could infuse flickering
uneasiness among electorate
(quite a few skool
of hard knocks alum
including yours truly),
who attests surfing cyber seas
as seasoned beach bum
up until this moment
feeling rather glum
regarding fate of American democracy
fizzling, muckraking, and sputtering
linkedin with kickstarting,
snapchatting, and twittering
along ever so ho hum
awaiting fateful deliverance
as dueling banjos strum
meanwhile irritable bowel syndrome
nsync with nausea
bubbling, gurgling, quickening
within collective tum
no doubt alleviated chugging,
guzzling, and quaffing
countless bottles Bacardi rum.
Nothing less at stake than (an ill eagle
feebly clutching cherished symbols - regal
representing land of the free and
home of the brave
analogous to once buoyant seagull
encompassing United States)
metaphorical snooping Beagle
only finding peanuts after landing
discovery (of America) triggering extralegal
imbroglios, which courtesy...
Thank manifest destiny
wrought accursed land grab,
where survival of fittest (think militarily)
nonchalantly, insouciantly actually
quite aggressively did nab
great juicy fruited plain continental slab
...to the mountains to the prairies
to the oceans white with foam...
where indigenous people
once stood tall and proud
applying contrived accoutrements,
which implements rendered mortally to stab
invaders, hence convenient plug to jibjab,
(while sack religious lame chap
donning unisexual hijab)
whale within poetic license
to orca straight heady
i.e. think lame muck cab
bra (even garnering groan from
ghost of captain Ahab)
denouncing cheesy pun,
whereby I (Stuart Little) best remain
as caged mouse
subjected to experimentation
within bore writ Tory lab.
the hopes and dreams are very shallow
belive in yourself and they just might come
true life is like a rocket it has its up's and downs
but in the end you get the life you wanted or
you don't
this is stupid this is dum this is what makes my heart
go round and round this is
what makes me turn around again and again
the life i have is doing all of that and more
when a rocket goes up it away comes back down
at some point that is what life is like you go
up but you end up bouncing right back to the life
you started the pain that you gain you
waste in sorrow the love that you had is broken into two
you feel like life sucks but really it's
a gift you stand strong through the good and bad times
your heart never stops just you
the bucket filled with water is all the tears
that you have cried throughout the years and
the tears never stop when life is a pain
you can gain control of the pain that you need to help gain
your strength back
in the rain there grows a pain that life was made
the water on your face makes the tears that you cry
when you cry it hard to dry the tears away
when you are standing in the rain
in the rain there is a drain that can make the pain go away
all the fears become your tears
you wasted the day by the bay
you wish a pond a fish
it's dry but you cry
you take a walk to the park in the dark
you talk as you walk scream in your dreams
you wink when you think
you sleep on a sheep
try but you cry the night becomes bight
the tears that you have cried become dry
your head begins to ack you are on the bottom of a hole
can't stand the pain so you stand in the rain
you talk instead of walking away
your fears give you the tears that you cry
theres a dart in your heart
you can't stand the dart that is hurting your heart
in life there are so many things that seem so unfair that you just want to scream
some things you just want to curl up in a ball and fall to the floor and never get back up ever
again
so many things are cruel that you just want cry or even die
life isn't over till it's over
god will determine that for you
Form:
. This fate is not final and irrevocable. Hope was not made
to exist. dum spiro, spero I face battles with Id as my sole
weapon. Always defeated, conquered by my conceited
self, I come to God—to Him I surrender, to Him I give my
vow. History was
made to endure—
to be our gover-
ness, to be victo-
rious. dum vivi-
mus, vivamus.
And now, as my
true battle unra-
vels, the only
weapon I had
has become my
foe. Defeated
once more I
come to You for
Your refuge, and
to You I pledge
again my vows;
but none had
lived long. Never
had I won a fight against Id and never was I a victor.
vae victis. As for this defeat not to continue, I would be
more than willing to sacrifice my sanity, to give it up if this
will also be the grounds for me to be far from You…
They talk so much but do little
Yes that’s it, for that is all they can do
When we used to walk distances on daily routine
It was enough to say things can be made better
Horses, bicycles and carts saved the bare-footed walks
But oh, it takes so much a time and still exhorts our energy on sunny days
Then the cars came with roofs, comfort of the seating, air conditioning, radio and all…
What else do we need?
Look!
The road is too bad for our commuting with the cars,
We need better roads.
The road, when graded to eliminate the pot-holes and straightened;
The road has taken part of my piece of land,
The road makers destroyed part of my property,
The road is too dusty that we get dirty and sick after commuting,
The houses close by are living in a hell of dust.
A well asphalted motor way would have been the best.
This newly constructed asphalt road is killing commuters and pedestrians due to over-speeding
The speed rumps will do us some good.
This speed rumps are so many;
Delays the smooth running, and our waist pains after our journey.
The lantern is too smoky and gives us catarrh and even the kerosene is scarce.
We hate this ‘dum-sor’ with this electricity that has spoilt us.
One can apparently do nothing when the lights are out;
Not even to cook.
There is no ‘light-outs’ now but the electricity bills are becoming unbecoming;
In fact, it is too much so they have to do something about it.
This flooding has become per annual event in our cities,
Can’t we get any of them to turn things around?
They now want to deny us even where we stay,
They have collapsed some nice expensive building just to create a gutter, oh!
Even you are not save as you walk on the streets,
A man was arrested for just throwing a small polythene on the street,
And a woman with a baby at her back who threw pampers into the gutter…
We have no jobs but have schooled all these while.
Youth Employment is here for you,
You expect a graduate to plant vegetables or work for Zoomlion?
Or be a bead-weaver?