Long Fenn Poems
Long Fenn Poems. Below are the most popular long Fenn by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fenn poems by poem length and keyword.
“Does my bum look big in this”
Now, be careful what you say
Just a single wrong word
Could spoil a lovely day
“No, my dear it’s lovely
Your looking pretty trim
I don’t know how you do it
You always look so slim”
I think I got away with it
That’s put her at her ease,
She’s looking in the mirror now
Don’t look too closely, please!
Too late, she’s checking out her rear
Her bottom she’ll inspect
And if she isn’t happy
I’ll get it in the neck
“I like this dress, I’ll take it”
“Thank god” for that, I say
Now that shopping’s over
It’ll be a smashing day
© John W Fenn 08-01-2009
There’s a bear in the kitchen
He’s ever so rude
He’s drinking my milk
And he’s eating my food
He’s broken the table
He’s broken a chair
And most every surface
Is covered in hair
He’s smashed off the lock
That was once on the door
He’s ruined the curtains
And pooed on the floor
The fridge he ripped open
Stuff strewn all about
I’ve nothing for dinner
He’s eaten my trout
When this one is gone
I will do some repairs
Fit a strong door
To repel wild bears
But should they get in
Their work will be harder
I’ll store all my food
In a solid steel larder
© John W Fenn 06-12-2009
Form:
What’s going on at the Co op
Its been cordoned off, with some tape
The police have a ten strong contingent
Was it robbery, murder or rape ?
We telephoned Lynn cos she works there
But it turned out she’d had the day off
She wasn’t too well, by her voice you could tell
And every so often she’d cough
The policemen were not very helpful
As they stood and they guarded the door
But looking between, their two legs, gabardine
I could swear there was blood on the floor
The rumours were rife “ someone stabbed with a knife”
A robbery, someone got shot
A terrorist gang, going out with a bang
Was there truth in these tales, there was not
For fact is far stranger than fiction
There’s no murderer, on the rampage
Just a poor little beast enjoying a feast
A small creature, escaped from its cage
It was just after two when the men
From the Zoo, arrived in a van with a gun
Said “ we’ve been ‘ere before, hold open the door
We’ll soon put an end to his fun”
Going down with a thump and a dart in his rump
Spread-eagled he lay on the deck
No one thought that this ape would ever escape
Or would be such a pain in the neck
Now he’s back in the great ape enclosure
He’s a hero of cunning and guile
Regaled by the others, both sisters and brothers
On his face, fixed, a permanent smile
© John W Fenn 07-09-2009
Stinky Stan the dustbin man
Was always less than fragrant
The aroma hung like cattle dung
And he looked like a vagrant
If you saw Stanley at his work
You’d never call him posh
He wore the same clothes everyday
And never seemed to wash
Our Stanley wasn’t stupid though
In every days collection
He’d find some bits worth having
And soon had a fine selection
Then, one day Stan the dustbin man
Decided to retire
Took his dirty working clothes
And tossed them on the fire
Had a haircut had a bath
A nice hot shower, then
Didn’t feel too different
So, he did it all again
He gathered his collection
All neatly catalogued
Took it to the sale room
Where it was promptly flogged
The piece de resistance was
A painting of a man
He didn’t know the artist
But the experts said Cezanne
It made a pretty penny
In fact a lot of money
So Stanley’s leaving Blighty
For somewhere warm and sunny
© John W Fenn 28-08-2009
Form:
If pigs could fly it wouldn’t be good
You’d have to go out with a brolly
Wear Wellington boots and waterproof suits
Life wouldn’t be happy or jolly
There’d be danger around every corner
You’d think in your car you’d be safe
But unless you’re under some cover
Either you or your car they will strafe
The Towns would be dirty and smelly
And slippery in the extreme
We’d have to employ a small army
In an effort to keep the streets clean
Now don’t you get all of a fluster
For the scientists haven’t yet found
The means of piggy propulsion
Or getting the beasts off the ground
If one day this nightmare should happen
It won’t come as any surprise
If they manage to get piggies airborne
Then the price of bacon will rise
© John W Fenn 17-01-2009
Form:
The Princess in her tower tall
With oaken door and granite wall
Sat sobbing at the window high
“Will someone save me” she did sigh
“Fear not young maid,“ a voice did shout
“For I am here, to get you out;
I have a cunning plan, so sly
To free you from your tower high
I’ll dress as does a man who’s poor
Then knock upon the outer door
And when the guard doth then unlock
I’ll beat his head in with this rock”
“Kind Prince” she said from up above
“You’re someone, I could truly love
But your attempt will be in vain
To rescue me you’ll need a crane
Although your planning may seem sound
I weigh three hundred and twenty pounds”
The prince then pondered hard and long
And wondered where he’d gone so wrong
He yearned to be a Royal hubby
But not to one who’s quite so chubby.
© John W Fenn 03-12-2008
Form:
Oh granny oh granny what shall we do
You’ve put bananas in your stew
A dirty lampshade you wear as a hat
And you’re talking to the old stuffed cat
Oh granny oh granny what shall we do
You can’t go out in a pink tutu
The Wellington boots and cycling shorts
Are not the things a granny sports
Oh granny oh granny what shall we do
I’ve grown so very fond of you
You’ve been here since I was a pup
Now I’m afraid they’ll lock you up
Oh granny oh granny what have you done
I know you think you’re having fun
But throwing eggs at a policeman, well!
You’re going to wind up in a cell
Oh granny oh granny, alright ok
Looks like you’ve gone and got your way
Pack your bags, don’t make a fuss
You’re going to come and live with us
© John W Fenn 03-02-09
Form:
Remote controls are funny things
Then, maybe it’s just me
I wave it around for hours
But, still can’t get channel three
It will always find the menu
For the treble and the bass
If remote controls were human
I would slap them in the face
Remote controls are not my thing
Perhaps its my technique
If they could make one voice controlled
I’d only have to speak
It would follow my instructions
And obey them to the letter
A voice controlled remote control
Things couldn’t get much better
I’d shout out my instructions
“Change the channel, fifty four
The volumes far too low now
Turn the sound up, give me more”
If they made this little gadget
Then there’s something I’d be fearing
That knowing my track record
I’d get one that’s hard of hearing
© John W Fenn 03-07-2009
Join the ice cream army, as they head off to the coast
In the stationary traffic, they sit there and they roast
By the time that they arrive, the day is nearly done
Join the ice cream army as they race to catch some sun
Join the ice cream army, sitting safely on the sands
Lazing in their deckchairs with their cornets in their hands
Basking in the sunshine, laying like they’re dead
See the ice cream army, watch them all turn red
Join the ice cream army as they hurry home at night
In the stationary traffic with their skin no longer white
Glowing in the darkness like a red hot burning coal
Watch the ice cream army as the sunshine takes its toll
Join the ice cream army, on Mondays drive to town
In the stationary traffic, there’s no sign of turning brown
Flesh still glowing brightly, almost any movement hurts
Observe the ice cream army as they get their just desserts
© John W Fenn 04-06-2009
Form:
At a general public meeting
They decided, on reflection
To replace the penal system
With a simple lead injection
Some people stood and argued
That shooting was too good
“Just take them from the court room
And hang ‘em in the wood”
Some others had their own ideas
On criminals like muggers
“Drag them to the river
And drown the little buggers”
Then the voice of reason
Persuaded quite a few
That treating prisoners this way
Was not the thing to do
“We’ll keep them in their prison cells
All cosy, dry and warm,
With lots of cash and man hours
They’ll hopefully reform,
But should this method fail to work
And progress not be made
We’ll take ‘em to the prison yard
And beat ‘em with a spade”
ã John W Fenn 26-03-2009
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