Long Funk Poems
Long Funk Poems. Below are the most popular long Funk by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Funk poems by poem length and keyword.
It's strange how some events in our lives
Can drive us straight to the edge of the precipice
And then how little it takes to bring us back
Just a word from that special someone we hadn't heard from
And assumed we had said something to offend them
It happened to me just recently
I was in a major funk then finally heard why
My silly attempt at humour had offended this sweetheart
We must always be careful of what we say
Especially through email or Soup Mail
It can so easily be misinterpreted without the voice inflections
That a face to face conversation creates
I am so so sorry that my lame attempt at humour
Created this rift...
I have learned my lesson!
© Jack Ellison 2015
I am in a mood today
Can not say I am mad
I just feel out of place
And no I am not sad
So I will choose to smile
On the inside where it matters
Turn this whole funk around
Avoid annoyed mad hatters
See I ate spaghetti for lunch
Someone else is hungry for sure
Why get my panties in a bunch
Cuz life can be so unsure
I prayed for a place to stay
Looks like that’s in the works
The only thing is I’m afraid
Of acting anti social like a jerk
So please forgive my sharp glance
It is not meant for you
There was this rapist man
Who taught me what I should do
Wearing my gun in a gaze
Instead of packing for real
Really works for bad days
When my attitude isn’t chill
So this mood of gray will pass
And I will finally feel relieved
We all need a good green laugh
So I’m going to watch a comedy.
Freedom foremost, and the will to fight
to keep and protect our natural rights.
Nightclubs, jello shots, disco balls
mechanical bulls, beers cold and tall!
Baseball, football, and basketball games,
crazy rodeo riders on horses untamed.
Books by the millions, more than can be read,
and knowing anything can be by anyone said.
Burgers on buns, potato and tortilla chips,
yeah, those are American, born in Texas!
Satirical cartoons, radio and TV,
the magic that was Hollywood, as it used to be.
Ragtime, Bee-bop, Rockabilly, and Jazz
Swing, R & B, movie soundtracks, and Bluegrass.
The warm blanket of country when feeling cold,
the power and fury of rock and roll.
The grind of hip-hop and of rap…
on second thought, we apologize for that.
But funk gets things all out of control,
and who can say no to harmonious soul?
Stream locomotives, tracks narrow and wide,
flying machines that soar through the sky.
The glorious art that is the western,
and old Las Vegas, the moral tester.
The miracle of southern barbeque,
the burn of moonshine, or Mountain Dew.
Soft ice crew and greasy-fast French fries,
the expectation that politicians lie.
Liberty in law deeply enshrined,
muscle cars driving of the right side.
Suburbs, cabins, farms and guns,
and every legally available type of fun.
Forests, combines, and big chain-saws,
as well as full equality before the law.
A vast landscape, awesome to see,
an undying faith in our families.
Art from great down to lackluster,
recalls, vetos, and filibusters!
Checks and balances on the powerful,
we invented the internet, so things are never dull!
Mountain bikes and rollers blades,
fried chicken and biscuits, porterhouse steak.
Diners, dairy bars and fast food,
we walked on the friggin’ moon,
and built the only probes that escaped
into the void of interstellar space.
I could go on, I am tempted to,
but I think I’ve made my point to you,
And when young fool have yelled there fill,
reject their nonsense talk of “guilt.”
All nations have screwed up, it’s so
but perfection is something man never knows.
This nation still tires to confront is sins,
and brings forth profusions of great things.
The scales upon which we are weighed,
are ever clear in what they say:
When it all is said and done,
America is made of awesome.
SLAPPY THE APPLE TREE OF OZ - WIZ
Dorothy and I go way back, don’t you know
and by the way I’m familiar with the bale of hay,
thundering tin can and the trembling kitty show.
At first they were hesitant to let me stay.
I had to pull my roots up from the ground,
put a cafeteria net in place to hold its yield,
then follow the yellow brick crowd ‘round and ‘round
and avoid a screaming witch out in the field.
She threatened to tear me limb from limb.
I stuck out my red tongue, told her to just try.
The knees of tin clattered together - poor him,
and dear Dorothy and her little dog let out a sigh.
I fell asleep standing in the poppy garden of snow.
My apples were nearly poisoned but I shielded them
before my eyes closed. Thankful for Glinda’s glow —
awakening even the brave one with his absent brain stem.
The growling yawn of the cowardly furball freaked me out.
I shook the diamondback crystals from my leaves and trunk.
Our Kansas girl led the way to Oz with a tree-mendous shout.
For the millionth time we grab arms and sing - this time in funk.
We reach the wonderfully luscious land of oz - green as my hair.
Begging audience of the wizard, he finally sees us.
I’m patient as he listens to the beggarly needs — a lion’s share.
I won’t bring myself down to their level - make a great fuss.
The wizard listens to this wizened curmudgeon tree.
I ask him for unending sweet apples without any worms.
And as he has done with the rusty-eyed gang, he makes a decree,
for he must give a long winded speech and make us squirm.
The only drawback is I must stand guard in this breezy courtyard —
a lookout for writings on the skywall that might jeopardize our lives.
Still, I am the crowned jewel, so humble, in this emerald vanguard.
We sang and danced our way down the yellow brick and survived.
10/29/2018
Off To See The Wizard Poetry Contest
Charles Messina - Sponsor
In the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy gets slapped by an apple tree. This is where I came up with his name :)
Booty beats from tomb slapping funkier bass,
rhythms to a spherical time in chic confess.
Slick elegance rhymes to fast timing,
wua wua references clear defining.
Dialog in electronic sound design,
funk happens for all of us therein.
Parliament funkadelic renegade,
riding in that old funky rolls to separate.
Committing funky crime against the state of soul,
mix the funk into the rhythm and it will not fade.
High on funk from the bottom and splendor of thing,
funky release of natural essence within.
Amorphous effusive impulse component,
and sweet sweaty antidepressant.
Ramification in that state of mind to funk,
blues road and gospel bell out of sorrow strung.
West-Coast Vibes x 2030 Swag – 32-Bar Chill Flow
ABC?ABC?ABC?… (each six-line block shares the same A-B-C end-rhymes)
[1-6]
A – Ride the low-slope, chrome-laced, feel the night vibe (A)
B – I’m sippin’ on that ozone-juice, thoughts fly like a drone high (B)
C – “Use your heart, not your eyes,” that’s the code we apply (C)
A – Baby, just relax, let the bass glide through the c-side (A)
B – If you got time, I’m clocked-in, sync our rhythm, stay tied (B)
C – G-funk on the loop, old school, but my future is wide (C)
[7-12]
A – We inter-twine like fiber-optic cables, no lie (A)
B – My mind’s a crypt, you’re the key, unlock the soul-sci (B)
C – Real love purified, no filter, just pure-AI (C)
A – Let the low-end roll, feel the sunset on the fly-by (A)
B – Free thoughts, watch ’em blaze, neon-lit sky-high (B)
C – No fake glitz, just the pulse of a real-try (C)
[13-18]
A – I’m vibin’ with you, chrome-shade shades, we sway (A)
B – Your heartbeat’s a bassline, I’m the drum-tape that play (B)
C – “Use your heart, not your eyes,” that’s the code we slay (C)
A – Chill, babe, the synth rides smooth, we drift on the bay (A)
B – Got time? I’m a chrononaut, we’ll loop this day (B)
C – G-funk echoes, vintage loops, but the future feels clay (C)
[19-24]
A – My thoughts float like NFTs, rare art, no lie (A)
B – You sleep, I’m wide-awake, dreaming meta-high (B)
C – I’m glad we share, love purified, the sky (C)
A – Use that heart, not the stare, let the drip just fly (A)
B – Relax, ride the wave, we bounce on a high-rise (B)
C – If time’s a token, we both mint it, no good-byes (C)
[25-30]
A – Yesterday’s pain, ghost-mode shadows, now clear (A)
B – She crossed me, cut deep, left a scar that spear (B)
C – But I rise, reward cry-coins, love engineered (C)
A – I glance at the dial, seconds glint, I cheer (A)
B – You pamper me, childlike trust, that tier (B)
C – We close our eyes, smile wide, love pure-engineered (C)
[31-32] (closing A-B to finish 32 bars)
A – Baby, just relax, let the future ride (A)
B – If you got time, I got time, let the thoughts fly (B)
Feel the West-Coast breeze with a 2030 glow—heart over eyes, ride the vibe, and let those thoughts take flight.
To gormandize upon the fungal billowing
of its noisome mustiness,
beguiles many to munch upon its earthy reek.
A creamy white meatiness enchants taste buds
to pillage pale fetid delights,
while a gluttonous well-being
permeates through every orifice.
Before they were banned from overhead storage
Durians ruled the sky.
Air sickness or a stomach churning turbulence
were deemed more desirable than
than those choking emissions
wafting from their pulpy substance.
High above the Indian ocean
passengers overcome by the funk
demanded parachutes.
Some renounced their white privilege
or fell to their knees to pray for breathing masks
to drop.
Even when disembarked, cabs would not carry them
fearing the lingering grip of clammy odors.
While still in their departure lounges
hardened Limburger eaters grew pale,
trembling at the thought of flying unprotected
from that most redolent of fruits,
the mighty all-pervading Durian.
disappointment once held me by my neck
threw me on the ground
stomped me in the face
but then I realized I was the culprit
taking life’s disappointments out on myself
the bully was me
I was a verbal bully to myself also
crawling into a depression and funk that kept me down
in the house, with blinds drawn
not wanting to see anyone or do anything
this was self-imposed, and did not do me one ounce of good.
the more I lambasted and berated myself, the worse I felt
This all changed when I became a mother
the joy of toddlers spun me into a chameleon
they taught me that every day your attitude and joy is up to you
disappointments happen, but you do not have to beat yourself up
Jesus said “let a child lead you” and I let three of them lead me
Learning along the way my attitude and feelings are up to me
and me alone.
Always look on the sunny side
The sunny side of life
It's where you'll forever find me
Life's just one big slice
A slice of joy and happiness
Waiting for you to call
Doesn't even require a passport
It's there to welcome all
A thousand times more enjoyable
Than stumbling round in a funk
Your step will have a much livelier gait
You'll smile a whole big bunch
All are capable, my very good friends
Matter of mind over matter
If you think positive and grin each day
Happy genes will get much fatter
Now it's very well known knowledge
Happy genes can go a long way
To extending your days here on earth
And be a much happier stay!
Which beers my dears bring you to tears
Beardy weirdy freaks hipster peaks & nadirs
Slatted bar with glam flutes or bizarre jam jar
Cheers to toots & hoots hirsute tatted peers
Sham craze for cloudy ales or clear yesteryear pales
Old school IPA mule or cool daze ways holds sway
Some fools viral spools spiral amaze as they drool
Not a phase always had haze it's the cardinal rule
Or a silly quip & blip has a nip of a chilli dip in it
Knows zip flip let rip Indian trip phrase you twit
Gawking and balking because they're talking s**t
All about malty pout haughty clout of a naughty stout
Cooed am a lamb to the slaughter for rip snorter porter
Wooed by stock of stellar Bock or cellar brewed Keller
Wheat poo pooed too funkily sweet for this crude fella
Rude taking the mick trick to pick a drop in perfect nick
Chaps won't cower to the lure of cocktails at happy hour
Ruddy cheeked fuddy duddy who is perhaps too dour
Appears fake dreams it seems of a career as a critic
Slating grating ratings mapped trapped on untappd
Skeptic fears musty skunk & fusty funk that is lambic
Brett regret bristles don't fret won't let whet my whistle
Sneers debunk the rusty gunk flower glower of sour
Jeers but bet the ripple of Tripel is still the top tipple
For any cynic or pundit in their Merchant Ivory tower
Hail tale of quirky murky or another stale lager saga
Heaven forbid get rid of sweet & sickly treat for a kid
Snooty about the booty of rank dank stank too fruity
For fecks sake must forsake that milkshake mistake
If tasked or someone asked what's my perfect beer?
Not the new frontier..bask in cask ...holy grail of ale
Suggest zest from noble not global hops treasure chest
Attest not treason manifest reason better than the rest
Beer to pleasure every season that stalled then schooled
What is after all the true quest & have you got a clue test
Which is why I contest you go with the one called "Best"