Long Fags Poems
Long Fags Poems. Below are the most popular long Fags by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fags poems by poem length and keyword.
Young Jimmy Kelly had this knack
Of chatting up girls and having the craic
His wife found out but kept her cool
Planned her revenge 'cos she's no fool.
The first thing she did was stamp on his fags
Then cut up his clothes until they were rags
How dare he she thought the dirty old man
Driving around town getting girls in his van.
His favorite stew she started to prepare
But added some extras' 'cos she didn't care
She added some dog hairs from the bin
Then cut her toenail's and put them in.
With his toothbrush she cleaned the loo
On the toilet seat she put some glue
Scratched his CDs with a pin
And down the sink she poured his gin.
Jimmy came home said "What's for tea ?"
"It's stew" she said "But not for me"
"I'm not hungry" she said with a grin
Jimmy got seated and began to tuck in.
After five minutes his face turned blue
Got up quick and went straight to the loo
My mouth he thought tastes of feet
When I've used the loo I'll clean my teeth.
So if your tempted to chase some skirt
Or like Jimmy to chat and flirt
Think again you'll end up with nowt
Cos your life will be hell when she finds out.
Written 18 January 2018
A Couple Of Nags
A couple of fellows who weren't very bright
Got terribly drunk in the pub one night
It gave them a bit of a shock of course
When in a drunk bet... They each won a horse
With just enough money for chips and some haddock
They couldn't afford the price of a paddock
Bob said we'll rent a small field for a start
But how would we then tell our horses apart?
Ted slurred his words and burped when he said
Couldn't we paint a white stripe on one's head
Bob said we're too skint to buy us some fags
So we can't afford paint for marking our nags
We could tie a pink bow onto one of their tails
Scratch names on their flanks with a couple of nails
Or if you're not liking the sound of all that
Could we make one of them wear a straw hat?
Bob simply belched before he then said
We need to do something much cheaper instead
We can't afford ribbon or a silly straw hat
Did you think me too drunk to have thought about that?
Well we need to do something before we get old
Or before we end up stone dead from the cold
But then Bob jumped up and he started to gloat
I've sussed it he boasted, just give one your coat
Not likely said Ted, the thought makes me chilly
So frankly, he burped, you're idea is silly
Next you'll suggest that we smear one with jelly
Or maybe we ought to make one wear a welly
The two of them sat there, each scratching his head
Then Bob had a brainwave and here's what he said
We really must get this decided tonight
So you have the black horse, and I'll have the white.
There you were always racing against time,
a willing mother, a conscientious worker, a wife sublime.
There you were with your wondrous wrinkles, your drooping eyelids and your starched crisp cuffs to waitress pinafore uniform you ironed so much.
There you were at the filthy hospital kitchen sink sloshing the dollops of patients’ left-over dinner bits and your magnificent pride with its iron core, smiling through all that .
There you were standing at the bus stop early purple morning or late black night the back stocking line straight and right and shoes polished waxy and bright.
There you were seemingly solid and confident, but really wobbly and light, smoking too many fags through too many disappointed nights.
I touched your cheeks when I caught you crying alone
The tears ran down leaving marks like dried milk
I touched your cheeks one soft like satin and the other like silk.
Figuratively Speaking... a compendium
I’m having slugs for dinner
Twelve dozen on toast
Some people turn their nose up
Apparently that’s gross
I’m joining metal plates
Using heat to make them meld
I haven’t got it finished yet
It’s not the end of the weld
Noah built an ark
And he bought a plastic coat
He’s waiting for the rain to come...
Whatever floats your boat
He couldn’t shift the damned thing
Even though he winched it
But then he found it moved twelve mil
Cos somebody half-inched it
I’m tired of being flesh and blood
I’d like to change some day
If I was made of paper
I’d be blown away
Four hundred pounds he weighs
That’s bigger than me gran
He weighs more than a camper-van
That’s really heavy man
It landed on some azure paint
That, as yet, wasn’t dry
Then flew around the light bulb
Like a blue arsed fly
Have you seen a flat-fish
With an over made-up face
Taking drags from handmade fags
It’s fairly common plaice
I’ve got three violins
One left, one right, one middle
I never use the second one
I won’t play second fiddle
He’s standing on the glued bit
Where the pipe split on a bend
Slipped off first time he tried it
But now he’s on the mend
Again it’s time to set some cars on fire
To smash some windows shouting out obsceneties
With Paris riots on TV you can’t get tired
Like trashy sequels of the Chaplin’s comedies
The action breaks down into episodes and gags
The crowd goes berserk with animation
They look quite serious, young lions and old fags
Rugged protesters, conscience of the nation
But don’t be fooled, it’s just the way they live
Traditional amusement, if you like
With little compensation they forgive
Until its time to start another strike
It was dramatic, till the fireworks began
Then water cannons jets endorse the celebration
Its Paris riots, open up your beer can
Sit back and watch the show of exaltation.
All things can tempt me some far more than others
Hear what sates my desire what are my druthers
Anger and booze led me astray in the past
Poetry and rhythm now give a kinder blast
Coffee helps for my ink to flow from the quill
Fags sweets and Coke Zero help to feed my skill
But my lover's curves keeps me from writing
To kiss ruby lips is far more exciting
So I follow my mouth and write on her skin
Drink passion and heart blood and then I begin …
25th February 2020
Contest All Things Can Tempt Me
Sponsor Beth Evans
Syllables checked howmanysyllables.com
he got up at bedtime stretched and gathered the sheets
shook up the pillows sorted the pages and went to his desk
thoughts and emotions dripped from fine ink on paper
looked at a day’s worth of poetry philosophy and reflection
laced with emotions intuition and balance to be embraced
when he stumbled on seeming inconsistencies and doubts
he tickled his fancy with a feathered quill and let out a sigh
arranged reconstructed and narrated what should have been
meanwhile the roof was leaking and the fireplace was in ashes
for he was poor and his writings would never pay the bills
a mouldy loaf starred at him when he opened the fridge
at least the electricity supply had not yet been disconnected
his heart warmed with pleasure at the sight of some pasta
no sauce and no cheese but a drop of milk for his thirst
food for thought would carry him through hours of hunger
metaphors happily mingled with synonyms and anagrams
states of subconscious flow enlightened transcendence
grammatical constraints had never been his strongest suit
and he was still in his nightgown exuding musk and dust
a lonely semicolon was confused as it looked for its place
cheap coffee and a few fags encouraged further creations
of a lost wonder world with dreams and mysterious events
he would shape his past and his future in fantasy and magic
shed normative pressures conventions and crude dogma
leave them in plain sight to remind him of his true calling
he sought independence and freedom rather than money
critiqued and portrayed the sad state of deceptive affairs
that surrounded him unless he dipped deep into the inkpot
scratched and scribbled prologues sequences and an epitaph
maybe one day he might be given kind posthumous acclaim
30th August 2020
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Contest: All In A Day
Any night endless, in countless shop doorways.
Down on their uppers, and satanic. strange places.
Spluttering, sneezing, coughing and wheezing,
In old cardboard boxes, rest weather worn faces
Catnapping for hours, gleans little cold comfort.
It's quicker with liquor, in brown paper bags.
A pawnshop's shopwindow, bears witness to sorrow,
Where all is exchanged, for the price of some fags.
Wearing second hand garments, from salvation counters,
No hope without dope, they suffer in silence.
A world where surviving, regrets to forget.
Downtrodden, despised, more often with violence.
The homeless seek shelter, a bed for the night.
Too few, for too many, for too many, too late.
Indifferent to hardship, they just melt away,
Swallowed up by the night-times, irreversible fate.
5/ 23/ 2017.
Let the lions roar,
For the deaf can’t hear and the rest choose not to listen,
There’s no sense anymore,
When a child’s tears are all that glistens,
Abandoned and forsaken,
Too much pain and too much wrong,
Hope savagely taken,
How much longer can this go on,
Have you done anything to help this plight,
Have you done anything but avert your sight,
The smallest kindness means more than you realise,
Open your heart to the sound of their cries,
It doesn’t take much to help make a difference,
All that it takes is and end to this ignorance,
How much are fags or a bottle of coke,
A pound from each person sounds like a joke,
But still it would make a missive impact,
Still it would start to improve the fact,
That too many kids are homeless today,
Because too many of us turn the other way.
In case of article fourteen
Quite a problem could have been
Solved completely, setting free
All from tribal pedigree
No prejudice would take place
Based on nation or the race
No one meets with deprivation
Well protected by convention
Be it truth, we could have been
Living in most fairiest dream
Ever dreamt about, or heard
Magic of the written word
Would reach out the moral height
For the sake of human rights
But of course it’s just a joke
Article fourteen evokes
Well known habit to proclaim
Vaguely written rules of game
That’s not law, but just convention
Paving hell with good intention
Fence the road, and change some slabs
Re-elect old fags and hags
No one reads conventions, man
Wishful thinking is a damn
That’s innate with human race
I would really be amazed
If the article fourteen
Meant to be a real thing.