Long Foul smelling Poems
Long Foul smelling Poems. Below are the most popular long Foul smelling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Foul smelling poems by poem length and keyword.
Tim had dreamt of magic mountains but was stuck in a snow globe
Luckily there was some antifreeze in the little dome on his desk
Used as a paperweight for discarded inked upon manuscript pages
A complete stark nativity scene directed wilfully by Father Christmas
Who looked like a hobgoblin lost in translation waiting for the storm
Weary for wear after a day out in the shops on a very Black Friday
Tim felt more like Robinson escaping from his treasured island
Preparing messages in a bottle of palm juice for seasonal greetings
There was no Santa Claus on his mind swirling with the natives
It’s a pagan charade which escaped from the Holy Book in contempt
Of meaning and humility as well as a festival of love and compassion
They might as well have created frosted cornflakes dancing on a dolphin
Tim’s script needed editing but a Gingerbread Man distracted his thoughts
While Mother Mary cuddled her cute firstborn on the way to Galapagos
Unaware of bloody nails and the cross born from post-partum blood
Hark the Herald Angels but his hero was a mermaid growing more fins
Searching for freedom and laughter as the chorus went forth to multiply
The many voices competing to take centre stage in verses and rhythm
I don’t need imposters or false prophets pirouetting under glass ceilings
But equality and empowerment to disperse fake opium for the masses
And yet the flakes drifting in his mind resembled cocaine for the few
Scrooge entered his senses and Pinocchio stumbling over his nose
Who fell through a trap door and was eaten alive by wild reindeer
Starved by the powers that be in the slaughterhouse aside frozen turkeys
Foul smelling odour scraped his nostrils and scarped a cliff face of doubt
Maybe he should write a novel about unicorns on their way to Nirvana
When Tim awoke it was Easter and rabbits had escaped from the burrow
27th November 2019
The average person laughs 13 times a day
I laugh a lot more often than that
In fact I probably hold the world record
Maybe three or four times that in fact
A katydid hears through holes in its hind legs
You really must be trying to jazz me
What kind of dribble is that, you silly billy
A few bricks short of a load, I see
In Tokyo, apparently they sell toupees for dogs
Wonder if lady dogs wear padded bras
Didn't know doggies had an image problem
If you've seen one you've seen 'em all
There are more plastic flamingos in the United States
Than real ones, surely you jest
If you'd said more plastic people existed than real
Without doubt, I surely would've guessed
We North Americans average 600 sodas a year
With an average of 4 burps per can
That sure seems like a lot of foul smelling air
About 2,400 burps in a one year span
Collectively we eat 100 pounds of chocolate a second
That is surely like paradise divine
In 32 years, there are about one billion seconds
No wonder I'm so damn tired all the time
A company in Taiwan makes dinnerware out of wheat
So we can eat our plates when we're done
Charles Osborne had hiccups for more than 69 years
I'd go loopy, I'd just about come undone
A cockroach can live weeks with its head cut off
It dies from starvation, big surprise
10,000 birds die each year smashing into windows
Seems they have pretty poor eyes
Today there's a War of the Words going on
Today there's a War of the Words.
It's taking place all over this beautiful land of ours
Polluting our precious air and clear-blue streams
Muddying our forests, our meadows, our parks,
Trashing our buildings, our subways, our cityscapes.
Today there's a War of the Words going on
In our workplaces -- our offices, factories, and construction sites
In our schools -- our classrooms, corridors, and teachers lounges
In our palaces of entertainment -- our theaters, concert halls, and sports stadiums.
Today there's a War of the Words just about everywhere you turn;
It's almost impossible to avoid being a minor casualty if you have two ears.
Because today there's a War of the Words going on around us:
Foul-smelling and tasting, putrid, gross, abominable, wretched,
Horribly inexpressive, unacceptable, not-so-long-ago prohibited
Unthinkable even, insensitive, insensible, but uncensored
Curse Words.
There's a War going on, my friends: A War for the Soul of this Nation:
Let us return to civility, to civil discourse, to reasoned discussion
To toleration of others and others' opinions or idiosyncrasies
To a time when rage was not found on the road or the radio and
Rants were not heard from nearly everyone on everything everywhere.
America: Let us win
This ongoing War of the Words
Let us self-censor our
Curse Words
Entry in "Societal Discontent" contest, sponsored by Brendan J. Simons
Deadline: April 23, 2018
BE NICE AT HALLOWEEN
Trick or treaters were having a good time
Grumpy Joe said you aren't getting a dime
He swore then he went inside
Kids were upset and some cried
So, on his porch they threw foul smelling slime...
THANKSGIVING HORROR
For Thanksgiving Pete asked Sue to his house
For eats he had ice cream, turkey, and grouse
Sue let out a loud scream
When out of the ice cream
A small head appeared t'was a baby mouse...
CHRISTMAS DISASTER
Fred went with pals for a Christmas curry
Felt pains and said guys "I've got to hurry"
But Fred was left enraged
All the loos were engaged
Felt warmth as his trousers filled with slurry...
The average person laughs 13 times a day
I laugh a lot more often than that
In fact I probably hold the world record
Maybe three or four times that in fact
A katydid hears through holes in its hind legs
You really must be trying to jazz me
What kind of dribble is that, you silly billy
A few bricks short of a load, I see
In Tokyo, apparently they sell toupees for dogs
Wonder if lady dogs wear padded bras
Didn't know doggies had an image problem
If you've seen one you've seen 'em all
There are more plastic flamingos in the United States
Than real ones, surely you jest
If you'd said more plastic people existed than real
Without doubt, I surely would've guessed
We North Americans average 600 sodas a year
With an average of 4 burps per can
That sure seems like a lot of foul smelling air
About 2,400 burps in a one year span
Collectively we eat 100 pounds of chocolate a second
That is surely like paradise divine
In 32 years, there are about one billion seconds
No wonder I'm so damn tired all the time
A company in Taiwan makes dinnerware out of wheat
So we can eat our plates when we're done
Charles Osborne had hiccups for more than 69 years
I'd go loopy, I'd just about come undone
A cockroach can live weeks with its head cut off
It dies from starvation, big surprise
10,000 birds die each year smashing into windows
Seems they have pretty poor eyes
© Jack Ellison 2015
Part 2 - The Great Fire of London, 1666
Just think of a town, put up with no plan,
where people build houses wherever they can.
The streets twist and dip, hugging ditches and streams,
and safety's a thing of which nobody dreams.
There aren't any rules, or best practices, codes,
regulations, fire stations, no hydrants or nodes.
The street where you live has no concrete, just clay,
and it's narrow, foul-smelling, and no light of day
can squeeze in. Your ground floor is brick-built and stout,
but your upstairs is flimsy and jetties right out,
almost touching your neighbour's. You thus form a tunnel
through which rats, cats and faeces can constantly funnel.
Well, come with me now to meet Thomas and Jane,
who live, work and worry in just such a lane:
it's always called "Pudding", which gives us a clue -
for baking is what all the people here do.
September the second, the year sixty-six,
and Old Mother Nature's been up to her tricks:
we haven't seen rain since the start of the war,
and timbers are shrinking, and drier than straw.
Tom's oven malfunctions. The house catches fire.
Our instinct, in peril? To try to get higher.
Tom, Jane, the children, and Sukie, the maid
(Sukie is thirteen, and very afraid)
climb out on the roof. Oh, the smoke and the heat!
The roof tiles are baking, and hurting our feet!
We've all got to jump to the roof to our left:
but don't glance below as you're leaping the cleft!
But Sukie can't do it. It's asking too much.
She'll be the first to be killed by the Dutch.
The signals aren't vaulting across her synapses.
She's lost from our sight when the storey collapses.
Four days blazed this greatest of all conflagrations,
engulfing some thousands of poor habitations
and scores of old churches, whether timber or stone.
The tally of people will never be known.
A square mile of ruin. A city destroyed.
A blackened and acrid and comfortless void.
Saint Paul's is a shell, its rubble still smoking.
But who is that gentleman, measuring, poking?
There he lay on the foul smelling uneven sandy ground,
Dead by beheading, blood seeping underneath the severed head,
An atrocious act urged by a drunken adulterous queen.
He was already dead, but the head had to be totally severed.
A sharp knife did the trick and a wanton tart had a plate
Ready to receive the Baptist head. Looking on only one showed any pity,
The rest indifferent were just ready to please their queen.
The dungeon was not even lighted as behoved a condemned man.
What makes this painting remarkable, one might ask?
Michelangelo Merisi Caravaggio was in Malta and the painting
Was commissioned by the Order of the Knights of Malta,
And hanged in an Oratory for criminal trails.
Caravaggio lifted traditional religious scenes and cast them
With his own dark interpretation. Thus light and darkness
Played a big part in the painting. All main characters are bathed in light,
The rest is in darkness as befitted a dungeon.
A masterpiece of chiaroscuro still to be admired in Malta.
Penguin the pilchard leapt onto the ice
He flipped and he flopped and arrived in a trice
He took a deep breath and he held it and then
He bellowed with all of his might… “MEN!”
Pilchard the penguin said, “Where have you been?”
And then asked his friend, “What on Earth have you seen?”
Penguin the pilchard said, “I’m telling you,
A big boat has come with a whole TV crew.”
With all of the penguins now gathered around
Pilchard’s mum, Herring, prepared Pilchard’s ground,
“Remember the plan, we’ve done it before
For when men with cameras visit our shore.”
Pilchard the penguin said, “When they arrive,
We show them the struggle we have to survive.
Let’s huddle together then we can deliver
The image they want so let’s practice our shiver.”
A rumble, some heaving and ice cracks appeared
And up popped an orca… who nobody feared
“Okay,” he said, “so who do I chase,
and who is the stand in, you know… just in case?”
Pilchard the penguin said, “No ‘just in case’,
Nobody’s getting consumed in this place
It will be I that you shall assail
And I won’t be eaten by no killer whale.”
Seagull, the polar bear, said, “Holy cow…
Does this mean I can let my wind go now?’
Pilchard the penguin said, “Don’t let it go,
Until you’ve scraped ice up to make flakes of snow.”
The film crew arrived and they took up positions
They struggled to film the Antarctic conditions
It came as a shock that the blizzards that blew
Came with a stench that was rather like poo…
The penguins all shivered while stood in one place
While foul smelling snow pelted everyone’s face
The crew filmed the penguin as orca gave chase
And shed tears of joy when the whale lost the race
Penguin the pilchard said, “Give them some smiles,
And leap from the sea like Polaris missiles.
And then do that thing that all humans find sweet
Where young penguins stand on their mum’s and dad’s feet.”
Pilchard the penguin said, “It’s for the tele,
Won’t it look good if we slide on our belly.
You see that ice gulley, why don’t we slide through it?”
And Penguin the pilchard said, “That ought to do it.”
The crew packed their gear and they made for the shore
Where they boarded their boat and weren’t seen anymore
While back with the penguins where men were now gone
Pilchard the penguin said, “Get the fire on.”
~ the traceless figures - leave the deepest traces ~
quote by poet
A spark was lit
of foreign energies
the flame of wickedness
- a vampire epidemic
The evil demons
somewhat pale, admittedly
Bloody Mary - cheers
Cold and cruel they satisfy their thirst
A beast of the night and darkness
which are vulnerable to sunlight
I swear the flame's fidelity is torn
of these night stalking creatures
they party all night
bloody foul-smelling corpse shirt -
red carpet dress code
19.04.2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- 'V' Words Contest -
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1st place in the contest
Is it the songs of the chirping bird in the morning?
Or is it the sound of the crickets at night?
It could be the timely crow of the village cockerels in the morning
That has awakened the residents for yet another beautiful morning?
Could it be because of the village mongrels that are barking furiously as they chase the
wild rabbit to the nearby wood?
Or it the mooing and the bleating of the sheep as they demand to have their middle belts
filled?
It could probably be the noise of the school children as they rush to school
Probably it is because of the hooting of the milk collector as he comes for the morning
milk to take to the dairy?
Is it because of the fresh produce of the greens?
Is it because of the numerous expanse of the land that the eyes can not have to its full?
Could it be because of the naughty neighbors that will listen to your silent conversations?
Or is it because of the early neighborly visits just when the "morning devotion" is at its
peak?
Could it be because of the neighborliness of the neighbors?
Probably it is because of the 'friendships' behind the banana plants near the house.
Or it could be the whispered sweet nothings under the tree just outside the gate with the
moon smiling over the young lovers
It could be because of the 'accidental' pouring of hot dirty and foul smelling water to
the shadowed forms near the banana plant?
Or am i just blindly in love with country life?!
Form: