Long Gobbling Poems
Long Gobbling Poems. Below are the most popular long Gobbling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gobbling poems by poem length and keyword.
just saw myself in the mirror
after feasting a box of pizza
cannot stand the sight of horror
and realized 'twas a bad idea
the main goal is to get lean
have my ass busy and active
but i'm lazy af to go clean
i guess its fate to get massive
got advised to get balanced diet
to lessen on sugar and carb
but the cravings are hard to quite
even giving up rice for lard
so this is what they called keto
gobbling more on fats and grease
less on meat, rice and potato
and more on veggies and cheese
some of you might get irked
but i need options and hope
please advise will this work
before i eat up this whole loaf
As the day turned
Fighting Irish were certainly concerned
Waiting for a meeting
With an Aloha greeting
Aggies promoting the lone star
Trying to clear the collegiate hardwood bar
Hoping something is left in their athletic jar
But when morning shines
No one can decline
Way back east
Main course turkey feast
First a holiday parade
Wanting a good grade
Balloons inflating
Celebrity gobbling about who they are dating
As singers and dancers
Display answers
During an entertaining show
To welcome Father Christmas, you know
Then for some
When Philly and New York are done
Where do they go for some fun
Motor city
Looking ever so pretty
Lions, bears
Featuring a wild life battle that should be fair
Only to be replaced
When the cowboys and raiders take the space
Giving a reason to hold a family dessert race
As the moon uses its lighted lunar pen
One must legally defend
Dropping a French Quarter
Tempting the reporter
Being told to keep their story shorter
Explaining about the saints and bills
Using photogenic stills
Saying anything at will
Trying to close a mystery
Haunting history
Started where one gambles on sins
Concluded when voodoo proclaim who wins
Allowing US to sleep
Counting sheep
Not needing to issue a peep
About why once we all needed to weep
Due to the actions from a creep
Attending a parade in the street
Having anger from the Russian bear who was a lion
Service and democracy he was, not buying
Acting like a cowboy
Raiding the festive joy
To pay the bills
A saint he was forced to kill
Do not worry about tomorrow
And any information horror
Take two steps back
Use tact
Enjoy Thanksgiving
And embrace living
Let’s Eat Something New This Christmas
(Parody of Have a Holly Jolly Christmas)
I can make some spicy tacos
better than the ones down south.
Please though know to eat them slow
or they may burn your mouth.
Try my sauciest lasagna
better than a Christmas ham.
Cheese galore – I like that more
than even roasted lamb.
Some get hung up on foods
so traditional.
My foods you cannot call
repetitional.
For dessert, there’s tiramisu.
I’m so sick of pumpkin pie.
Cookies crumble
so I grumble: why not new foods to try?
Christmas Balls,
(Parody of Jingle Bells)
Christmas balls, Christmas balls on my Christmas tree.
I’ve got a cat that’s such a rat beneath the tree he’ll pee -ee.
Christmas balls, Christmas balls, flying through the air.
When both cats get hold of them, they scatter everywhere.
One night I took a pause because I’d heard a crash.
Hoped it might be Claus bringing me some cash.
I saw my big dog’s face. She looked up guiltily.
To those darn cats she’d given chase destroying our tree! Oh!
Repeat refrain:
Christmas balls, Christmas balls on my Christmas tree.
I’ve got a cat that’s such a rat beneath the tree he’ll pee -ee.
Christmas balls, Christmas balls, flying through the air.
When both cats get hold of them, they scatter everywhere.
Two oldies:
I Heard Mother (to tune of "I Saw Mother Kissing Santa Clause")
I heard Mother scolding Santa's elf
As I prowled the house on Christmas Eve.
He'd hid in St. Nick's sleigh And then sneaked out to play
After having waited for his boss to fly away.
Mother caught him gobbling all our snacks
After he tore open every gift.
Oh, when she glared down at his face,
He went scrambling from our place
Screaming, "Santa, stop the sleigh-
I need a lift!"
New Body
Parody of the Xmas Song: White Christmas
I'm dreaming of a new body
with every chocolate I unwrap.
But I can't stop eating, I can't stop cheating.
There's just too many Christmas snacks.
My nightmare is a pot belly -with every Christmas treat I take.
But I can't stop feasting, my size increasing;
when I stand on the scales they'll break.
Yes, I'm dreaming of a trim waistline,
so take that Chex mix from my face.
May my buns be smaller and flat,
and may all my body lose its fat!
(I no longer make Chex Mix. It’s just too tempting)
Don’t take my word for it
I don’t know anything, she said
She thinks she’s being clever
Our auntie Mamie Bread
Her husband keeps his wisdom to himself of course
He likes his blueberry pie, and she can be a vindictive source
I heard this, that, and the other, but it might not be true
She repeats all gossip, our auntie Mamie Sue
I am not an expert, but I think you’d better find a different friend
I have heard he is a drinker, and his behavior goes beyond the bend
To get her to loosen up or give anyone a bit of a chance
Would mean to reconstruct her, as she does the gossip dance.
My Uncle Charlie sits in his chair, not speaking, gobbling his ice cream.
It amuses me to think that once upon a time, she was my uncle’s dream.
They get along terrifically, because he takes his opinions to work.
Shares nothing with his wife, careful not to irritate or irk.
Gamesomeness goads gawky, gingerly,
goofily graceful, grandiloquent gent, gallant,
genteel, geico, guppy gecko, gabbling gaffes,
gagging, gamboling, gestating, gesticulating,
garlic, gnashing, gobbling, gyrating,
gruesomely grinning, grappling, gnomadic
giggly, grubby, gastrointestinally grumpy
gewgaw gazing guy, geographically germane,
gungho, grave gremlin, grumbling, guiding,
guaranteeing, guerilla gripped gatling guns
ginning gumpshun.
Hello! Herewith halfway harmless hazmat,
haphazard haggard, hectored, hastily,
hurriedly, harriedly hammered, handsomely
hackneyed, heady, hellbent hillbilly, hirsute,
hidden hippie, huffy humanoid, hexed, heady,
Hellenistic, holistic, hermetic, hedonistic
heterosexual *****sapiens historical heirloom,
homeless, hopeful, holy, hee haw heretical hobo.
Indefatigable, iconographic, iconic, idealistic,
idyllic, inimitable, idiosyncratic, ineffable,
irreverently issuing idiotic, indifferent, inert,
ineffectual, ingeniously iniquitous, immaterial,
insignificant, indubitable, inexplicable, ignoble
itches, ineffectually illustriously illuminating
immovable infused ichthyosaurus implanted
inside igneous intrusions immensely
imperturbable improbable.
With body and mind you respond to my touch,
gobbling up kisses, like sweet penuche,
I could not ask for a better lover; there is nonesuch.
When I grind my gears, you become my clutch
and I lean on you like an emotional crutch.
A magic elixir, you quench my heart
like sweet nectar, neither bitter nor tart.
Forged on passion's anvil, your lovemaking's an art.
And paused on the moment, my smile presses restart.
Your granite body buffed to a sheen
has a vulnerable heart; you're not a machine.
And yet, you make the impossible look routine.
With rippled muscles, as though chiseled from stone,
you're a warm schnook where dreams have blown,
You're the wind in my sails, without uttering a sound.
Behind the scenes, you don't speak much,
but like dawn's first light, you offer a new start.
Cushioning my falls, you spot me on life's trampoline
and somewhere between estrogen and testosterone
you find balance, both feet firm on the ground.
(Minuanetta)
1/26/2018
"My dear skipping stone," I gently asked.
"What tales lie within your flitting flight,
As you tippy-toe skip over the water so fast?"
What lessons can you tell us, Oh shiny one so bright?"
"Well firstly, it's in the shape of stone."
The skipper's learned response began.
"Choose a flat smooth one, from the wet river zone,
Where smooth stones have collected in the skidpan."
"The next trick is the way you grip the disk."
"Curl your index finger around it, lock it with your thumb."
"Then you're ready for the deft wrist flick,
which will ensure a skip, skip, skip outcome."
"Like everything, it takes practice to get it right."
"A smooth calm water surface helps a lot,
as waves can smite your stone with such delight."
"Gobbling stones is the wave's unfair, cheap shot"
"Life is like a skipping stone's pace."
"A clutch of fleeting moments, a flip of flings in the sun."
"Embrace each leap with joy and grace."
"For skipping time, like ripples, is all too soon done."
With that, the skipping stone grew still,
Its wisdom etched within my being.
The stone sank gently into the water with all its skill,
Revealed to everyone and given true meaning.
within the under belly of
this hob bull ling Leviathan beast
induced roaring hungry soundcloud issued
within abdominal folds
finding they in creased
never diminishing, matter
whether I turn north, south, west or east
this adult desired,
soon after he envisioned
buttered crispy dish eyed fancily feast
culinary cut throat Michelin meisters
(pit a less lee) pitted
against Pillsbury doughboy greased
imaginatively gobbling hectare
thousand island inlaid
juiced kickstarting least
unable to pay thee Monsieur's consigliere –
damn, hard cold cash just shy by a nickle
aye first taken got taken hostage
as a wreck loose poet,
the anti write cadre
strip searched
every stitch of clothes I wore,
then subjected me to an aye tip pickle
pun hush ment,
where this deplorable basket case
stood aghast as hounds from hell
got loosed by thee Don Rickle
lathered canine chops
slapped by foamy salivating tongues
poised to ham er and
make mince meat out this pop sickle
but...lo and behold, as vicious
snooping doggy dogs
approached within a hair breadth
minecrafted fingers fluttered
in the air asper ready to tickle
whereat the snarling killers (bon jove)
rolled with faux pas in the air
kicking, laughing (or a similar
fox simile thereof),
inciting Major Domo tuff flair
his nostrils (like...well
an amazing dragon)
with blood red eyes didst glare
while fur sprouted over his bare skin
honor ably dispelling every last hair
which bizarre circumstance, an opportunity
to escape from this thieving Magpie lair
approved by the ghost of Rossini,
who suddenly prestidigitatiously
magically brought to my defense William Tell
(in the guise oven
instant activating App) pull lick caisson
thus juiced by a whisker avoiding a scare.
Perhaps the realm where dormant ideas germinate
will coalesce into sturdy tomes even if posthumously late
recognition gets affianced with a memorialized slate
where no body will lie,
cuz this mortal will get his ashes sprinkled
intermixed with wildlife,
who will unknowingly consecrate and sanctify
rack and pinion traction,
where dost dust will fertile lies
to become reincarnated
via blessings sans creatures who defecate or urinate.
Ten years ago, there was a cock
Who lived up to his name.
For though he left us all well-fed,
He left the yard in shame.
Replaced was he by one who was
A very silly goose.
That goose got cooked; he cooked himself;
A danger being loose!
And with him was a vulture,
And that vulture sure was mean.
He swooped down, getting us in war
that plucked us all quite clean.
I could not rest until the two of them
Were good and gone,
Praying I’d not have to watch
That grey goose on the lawn.
Another - grinning, wrinkly-necked -
On TV bobble-bobbling,
Paced with worn-out rhetoric
He was fond of gobble-gobbling.
And by him was his sidekick,,
Female version of a “Quayle.”
I hoped inside the white barn
that chick would never dwell.
The other bird, a darker fowl,
“said” he didn’t want a war.
He was called by some a “chicken"
But at least cared for the poor!
So for November’s bird
He was voted on one day -
The turkey that was chosen
Before Thanksgiving Day.
Two years have past and nothing's changed
The same old cuckoo song.
And I don’t see a good bird yet
To even come along.
How sad there’s no bird like the one
who from a forest came,
Then presided in the white barn.
Now a statue bears his name.
Like an eagle, symbol of
this stretch of land was he.
But since his time, few birds have flown
much higher than a tree.
It’s geese and quails and chickens
and turkeys growing here
while people on this vast great land
are filling up with fear.
I'd hoped our newest turkey were
an eagle in disguise,
and that he’d get to take us soaring
into bluer skies.
For how much longer can our farm
keep running all amuck,
in which case we’re all better off
electing Donald Duck!
For Nate Dilt's "I Hate Politicians" contest
The shade of a swizzle stick
Clank to a glass
Stirring of wet stuff
Cooling of gas
Pleasure from drinking
Washing it 'round
Gushing then gobbling
Drooling it down
Clunk; there's an ice cube
Frosted in vision
Sunken till risen
Expanding with fission
Spinning the cherry
In circles that narrow
Mulching the flavours
Till bones fill with marrow
Blending the colours
In one seemly manner
Tasting the sword
Through lips you have gored
Stabbing the olive
With one splintered pick
Tasting the olive
In one bite that's quick
Laying the napkin
Aside of the glass
The glass starts to dribble
The waitress walks past