Long Groucho Poems
Long Groucho Poems. Below are the most popular long Groucho by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Groucho poems by poem length and keyword.
I received a re-invitation email this morning. A ‘come on, why don’t you want to?’ note that struck me as odd. See, I’ve been ‘tapped’ for a couple of final clubs at Yale. It can happen if you earn top grades and interact easily with male friends by day (the crew club scene is ol’ school patriarchal).
Three of my roommates have been tapped - for one thing or another. The upper-crust, traditional networks and secret societies are a huge part of why young men and women choose Ivy League schools.
I’m not talking about frats - I enjoy flippant misogyny as much as the next breasted-American and really, does “Yo bruh,” sloppy binge drinking, and sexual assault ever really get old? Yeah, it kind-of does.
And I’m not talking about the more open and popular ‘eating clubs’ - no - I’m on-about the elite social orders that enjoy a subversive and exclusive appeal.
Some students desperately want to be ‘IN’ and believe those memberships prove they’ve somehow ‘made it’. Let’s face it, someday - if you can’t actually earn it - that skull & bones handshake might open some doors.
I’ve attended a few meetings, meals, and parties in “tombs” (in upstairs libraries and houses) around New Haven, but I guess I’m just not a ‘joiner.’ Groucho Marx once said that he wouldn’t want to be a member of any club that would have someone like him as a member, maybe that’s it for me too.
Anyway, this harangue is sponsored by the glower that that silly email put on my face.
“What’s the matter?” Leeza asked, seeing my expression.
It reminded me of watching people suck-up and ‘social mountain climb’ to get into my grandmère’s (boring) circle. If your club is so exclusive (email sender), why on God’s confused earth would you want me?
Hey, I like parties, dances and hanging out with eskimos - but I'm a pre-med student and the time/value equation just doesn't stack up for me - I’ve got the M-CAT tests next summer and prepping for those has taken up my life.
It’s ironic though, how by day students at Yale go-on about ‘elitism’ - in stylized outrage - and then by night they strain to join these crew clubs.
.
.
slang...
final clubs = elite clubs and secret societies
eskimos - really cool people
crew = elite
"Book Worms" Posted 1 Feb 2021
i'm reading a book about anti-gravity I can't put it down
that bio of Led Zeppelin's guitarist is a real Page turner
don't miss this: "Dummies For Dummies" by Charlie McCarthy and Lamb Chop
i'll admit there is a time and place for books in my hand and right now
in one college course we read books about candy the class was Choc Lit
today I got hit on the head by a book I have my shelf to blame
[humor attribution: all humor found online of unknown origin]
"But Weight, There's More" Posted 8 Feb 2021
for some of us during COVID overeating is a weigh of life
when i feel plump i tell myself i'm not overweight, i'm undertall
those who sell books on dieting are living off the fat of the land
darwin's theory of sumo wrestling the survival of the fattest
during lockdown, i'm on the seafood diet i see food, i eat it
i saw my doctor and asked him what kind of shape i'm in he said "pear"
[humor attribution - all were found online, of unknown origin]
"Groucho Marx Edition" Posted 15 Feb 2021
if i said you had a gorgeous body would you hold it against me?
i would never belong to a club that would have me as a member
be open minded but not so open minded that your brains fall out
i never forget a face but in your case, i'll make an exception
i have had a perfectly wonderful evening but this wasn't it
those are my principles and if you don't like them, well, I have others
All humor attributed to the inimitable Groucho Marx
"Occupational Hazards" Posted 22 Feb 2021
my dentist's motto be true to your teeth or they will be false to you
bakers trade recipes with each other on a knead to know basis
I called a budget exterminator he came with a flyswatter
the butcher backed into the meat grinder and got behind in his work
a back- and neck-straightener in Egypt is called a Cairo practer
don't call me a plumber I am a "broker in new and used water"
[Humor attribution - all humor found online, attribution unknown]
a limning rush of sinister
fiery angry flames bent avast
analogous copse,
where every limb bough, bore full
roaring furnace hot blast
spewing weighty incendiary volcanic
magmatic eruption out classed
Krakatoa, no longer the benchmark,
sans most powerful trajectory arc
this latest supernatural phenomena poetic
pre sent dent trumpeting not don
shearing, slamming,
and stripping off tree bark
(most definitely paging the innocuous Clark
Kent, where like loess lain
during Pleistocene Epoch
rendered, manifested dark
kenning shroud likened
to world wide webbing em brace
where lava floes easily did
(like a poetic souped up Chevy)
out to chase innocent prey
smoothing over (akin to mason,
or gigantic glazier) clearly shining deface
of planet Earth with a smooth glassy like face
though starkly barren, bereft, bilked
every last trace of civilization
nonetheless exhibiting amazing grace
which global catastrophic event poo tin brake
fast upon ONE haughty, egoistic
arrogant *****Sapiens chief drake
particularly Reich king machine "FAKE"
superman usurping free reign crowning himself
totalitarian American tyrant,
bare ring his right arms
emulating gesticulation sans dictatorship
of the Proletariat make
pact with credo of Karl, Harpo,
Groucho, and Chico Marx,
where mortals DID NOT quake
especially empowered youths
asper grassroots action they did take.
Written: March 5, 2012
Updated: March 11, 2012
Listen to nurse's report including the news
that Joe and Wilma like each other.
Check all rooms and find that Roger is out of his bed
and down on the floor again.
(Hip not broken yet.)
Answer Wanda's light to calm her justified paranoia
because she knows that she is somewhere other
than her home but just can't figure out where that is.
Answer Jeremy's light to help him sip his water
while he giggles at his favorite T.V. show.
Accept his thanks and feel your heart break again to see a
45 year old man who can no longer control his limbs be so
appreciative of such a small act of kindness...big act of kindness.
Check on Jack even though he doesn't turn on his light
because you hear suspicious noises coming from his room.
Help Jack to bed after you find him swatting an
imaginary fly with an imaginary fly swatter.
Try to re-position Emma so that she is comfortable
even though her limbs are fetal-position frozen.
Kindly lie to yourself about her comfort so that you can
control your guilt when leaving the room.
Go into Jackie's room when she starts her usual screaming
that "she doesn't want to be here, and her family hates her
and that's why she's here."
Kindly lie to her and control your shame because you know that
what she is saying probably is true.
Answer ex-model Mabel's light and listen to her story about
how she could have married Groucho Marx, but that she married
her true-love instead.
Feel a sense of sad pride when Anna proudly explains to you
how she keeps track of her day by tracking her activities as she
would have for patients when she was a nurse.
Keep taking care of and giving these people (not patients)
love every chance that you get.
Gail's notes: Portrait of Joe and Wanda is the sequel to this. To protect the privacy of those who have lived before us, the names have been fictionalized, and the events semi-fictionalized.
There is a life eternal to live
but so many pass it by
living solely for this world
when at the end of it they die
God has provided life eternal
for those that will trust in His son
receiving His imputed righteousness
they can live knowing His well done
No one can achieve this alone
it can only be done in Christ
He gives us our passport
paid by His blood divinely priced
Our own efforts will never suffice
no matter how hard we try
it filled with our dirty rags
divine justice is way too high
So come unreservedly to Christ
with Him you’ll live for ever
to dwell with Him for evermore
know you’ve crossed your final river
Quote Prompts:
(Groucho Marx quote:
“I intend to live forever, or die trying.”)
Why rhyme you ask?
Because it is fun, it is easy, and my mind is broken.
SCREECH……………………………………
Stop that! I warn myself. We have had more than enough of that.
Trixie picks up a feather duster and plucks a feather
There is a savage warning on her face.
I cringe.
Why write poetry?
Because to not write it is to not be in touch with ourselves at all
I say with shaky confidence
Waiting for someone to bop me on the head for saying this.
Trixie puts on her Groucho Marx mask and wiggles her eyes.
I feel greatly relieved that I have gotten away with this thought.
She narrows her eyes, and I look away. Scared.
Are other people terrified of their muses or is it just me?
But what if it is not even poetry?
I ask myself. It comes out as the BIG question.
The one I always think of, but rarely feel brave enough to voice.
It matters not, I assure myself.
My fans are forgiving.
They will forgive me this too.
Trixie begins figure skating on the desk.
She is wearing a pink tutu with glitzy sparkles.
We are okay, she assures me. Let's do this.
I picked "cinqku" because I don't know
what form that is, and I'm too lazy to
look it up; but if you've ever read any
of my poetry you should know I don't
want to lead anyone down a particular
path, but just that you read into what
you want to read into. However,
comments are left open to release,
and it seems PoetrySoup has an in
and an outside crowd. As Groucho
Marx once said (maybe a paraphrase)
"I wouldn't want to be a member of
a club that would want me as a
member."
So, with my last poem I stated about
paying my bill. So I have settled what
I owe, but I do leave a big tip, and if
you are wise you will follow, Maureen
McGreavy is the best TASTE out of
this pot.
For you bible pushers and preachers, "In
the beginning was the WORD." Choose
your words wisely. That verbal stone you
skipped might just hit you in the ****.
My wife has often said, "Why is the F word
the first thing out your mouth when you were
class scholar and magna cum laude?" F them.
Whar art mine fervent zeal for Marx Brothers?
While figuratively trout fishing
for ideas to write about
analogous (hook, line and sinker)
idea wormed itself into mind with clout
moment of awareness arose
without shadow of doubt.
As a long haired pencil necked teenage geek
zany Harpo, Groucho, Chico ranked as idols
mine most favorite slap stick until I reached
cusp of early adulthood, yet of lately uptick
regarding said comedic acts unexpectedly a
rose, spurring me to revisit adolescent mem
rubble entertainers overarching unstoppable
nostalgic ache for their nonpareil antics did
pang ping pong within mine corporeal esse
Scents trademarked and christened Matthew
Scott Harris, somewhat alleviated watching
courtesy Internet random You Bet Your Life
momentarily experiencing giddiness bursting
with laughter - shy kid relishing hearing quip
lightning fast barbs oft imitated sporting his
greasepaint moustache nsync with cigar size
of small walking stick renown world over an
American iconic figure (+entire motley crew)
lively bunch post World War II boys groomed
since birth begat Minnie Marx (born Miene
Schönberg, 9 November 1864 or 1865 – 13
September 1929) mother and manager of the
Marx Brothers, a family of vaudevillians,
Broadway and film actors, she dominated
band of five boisterous and hilarious brothers
who dominated silver screen more'n nearly 3
4ths century ago sired by patriarch Sam Marx.
No particular rhyme nor reason explains why
aforementioned nitty gritty personal trivia thy
actually more accurately & specifically yours
truly metaphorically unexpectedly did qualify
as teetotaling poetaster to craft poem well nigh
acknowledge inexplicable passion regarding my
heartfelt affection constituting zany wily troupe
linkedin with baker's dozen films iterated wild
3 ringed circus antics did all these years schtick
well lodged within me noggin + gamut of stars
whose career launched during quaint silent film
era albeit (Betzwood, one time, between 1912
and 1924), one of the largest film studios in the
world located in downtown Philadelphia and
their studio lot in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania,
right next to the park, I kid ye not, and... take
look see for yourself by visiting following link.
https://americasbesthistory.com/
spotlight2017-11.html
Apropos of John H. Doe
A name we all know
Just like Uncle Sam
~ He too’s on the lam
____________________
'Critics Corner'
(A random sample of published reviews):
"Subtly implicative, bigly"
~ Barron and Donald J. Trump, in unison
"Emasculatory Triumph!!"
~ 'Fannie Femdom'
"Lumpen Proletariat Barfola"
~ Karl and Groucho Marx
"Aso. Learry Derightfur Liting:"
~ Shohei Ohtani, (through an interpreter)
"Yes, it IS poetry. So that means it's, well, a poem, written -- by a poet."
~ Kamala Harris, responding to a hardball question from Oprah W.
"I fell asleep reading this... twice."
~ Joseph Robinette Biden
The howling winds of March
Furious gusts of air
mightily blow bestirring anchored poet
sitting comfortably numb
securely strapped in his hard to maneuver
easy bath chair
while all around him debris
strewn helter skelter everywhere
heavy objects unmoored
pirouetting topsy turvy
defying laws of physics
cue Adam Smith
courtesy his invisible hand
eulogizing, kickstarting, and regulating
unseen cogs and gear
in order to avoid being plucked up
analogous to whirling dervish
ye dear reader best don
top of the line name brand ironware
to fend off soundcloud
analogous to webbed
whirled wide rooky banshee
hounding kingly bishopric
inducing royal knightmare
whereat pawns called play
as damage control representatives
ultimately linkedin to medicare
for bodily harm suffered
and property destruction
doled out courtesy Nationwide Insurance,
nevertheless yours truly
experienced heightened anxiety
cuz I accidentally, casually, easily,
et cetera eavesdropped,
though a polite gentleman (boot no scholar)
loud talking policyholder
anyone could easily overhear
their strident vocalizations
and they owned chutzpah to *****
re: me for listening to conversation
threatening with abominable language to scare
living daylights, which nearly caused
writer of these words
to soil his underwear
such vociferous threats
wrought quick thinking defense posture,
whereby my ordinary shy demeanor
empowered after downing
powder milk biscuits
(cuz heaven's their tasty)
and declaring warfare
against being bullied
versus suffering as token scapegoat
most every year
from boyhood until emerging adulthood.
After crafting above lines
current generated via whoosh;
I sat mine hind quarters
(otherwise referred to the tush),
which signalled to Doctor Quackenbush,
(id est Groucho Marx)
not deficient with quick wit
whose hook, line and sinker
word of the day namaycush
helped one environmental seaman
high (fish) tail to Hindu Kush
where removal from madding crowd
spiritually inoculated one
with a profound hush.