Long Gung Poems
Long Gung Poems. Below are the most popular long Gung by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gung poems by poem length and keyword.
Outside it’s breezy and twenty degrees
in here the air feels humid and still
the floor’s elbow-to-elbow and I guarantee
dance for 40 minutes and the heat can kill
I left the dance floor
fully drenched
we drank at the bar
til our thirst was quenched
I peeled off my overshirt
but that didn’t work
I still felt flushed and sweaty
a guy motioned me to dance
but I wasn’t ready
Then someone opened the door
the icy air rushed in—I didn’t flinch
It felt like heaven—I wanted more
dance guy was back, the entitled prince
the 05611 is full of pushy guys
when they want something
they try and try and try
I pretend I can’t hear them
cause the music is bumping
Friday nights are such a release
a time for fun and controlled caprice
but it’s also a hot-point time to do-a-prendy
when you say no, divers can turn unfriendly
I’m not Julie Andrews—I’m not offended
It’s kind of a complement, I’m just not interested
If you can take a yes, then you should take a no
I could be protecting you, for all you know,
so chill-out playas, don’t be so gung-ho.
.
.
Songs for this:
Hit My Heart by BOY
Cake By The Ocean by DNCE
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 01/23/25:
Divers = numbering more than one
do-a-prendy = a quick hookup
05611 = Yale's zip code
Badger was gung-ho about being up in a hot air balloon.
What does he know? Asked skunk. He is a big buffoon!
But I wanted to go too, and porcupine was ready.
I am going I said to my sour skunk friend, Freddy.
Freddy is my bestie, but he can be silly some days.
He said “you are not going without me. I will bring my glaze.”
His glaze is his specialty; it is tasty on toast and such.
Glad you are coming, I told him. I would miss you so much!
Perry the porcupine weaseled his way into the balloon too.
I tried to discourage him until I saw he had brought beef stew.
So we all jumped in the balloon with a picnic for twenty-seven.
We had a fine day traveling upwards toward heaven!
An old scholar called Mi Balls Hung Lo
Wished he could put his gonads on show
His poor wife got quite mad
But his daughter said “Dad…
just remember to add a big bow”
By Jan Allison
Now Hung Lo was really Gung Ho.
He had his big bow now in tow.
The new goal he set
was somehow to get
little Mister Happy to grow.
By Dale Gregory Cozart
Dolly Parton said, "Hey there Hung Lo!"
"Why don't you appear on my show?"
"While we're on the air
we'll show our two pair,
It might make your wee Happy grow."
Dolly said to Lo on a dare:
"Would you show off your pair?
I'll show mine
They're very fine
but not all covered with hair!"
By Lim'rick flats aka John Wulf
Lil' Mister Happy wanted to grow
So he could become part of the show
But overshadowed a tad
by the two giant gonad
Now so sad is Mi Balls Hung Lo.
by John Gondolf
To cheer him up they took sad Mr. Hung lo
To a place for encouragement to grow
Down they did jut
A poem for each nut
Mr. happy stood up tall for the show
By Pat Adams
Just woke up to this gorgeous day
What joy, think I'll go out to play
In my skivvies I will
Oh what a thrill
Tiptoe through the tulips twittering away
By Jack Ellison (My Poetry Soup Brother)
When Mi balls hung lo joined the nomads
Something happened to his small gonads,
the further they would go
much bigger, they did grow,
So he now uses them as knee pads,
Due to drinking the milk of the Yak
his large gonads started to shrink back
the more milk he did drink
more his gonads did shrink
problem was they were turning jet black.
By Roy Pett
PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME YOUR POEM AND I WILL ADD IT TO THE COLLABORATION
10-04-17
What should I write, what do you think
How's about tightie whities
The kind that get most women all worked up
Divesting themselves of their nighties
Even if you plead you have a headache
She's in no condition to listen
Those tightie whities are driving her crazy
Down below she starts goin' fishin'
All of a sudden your headache disappears
Now it's you who's all gung ho
You yell out “tally ho ride 'em cowboy”
She screams bloody murder “woo ho”
That continues for about thirty-eight seconds
Then collapsing exhausted on the floor
You scream out “got a cramp in my leg”
She yells, “want more, want more, want more!”
Think to myself that's the very last time
It's polka dot boxers from now on
Tightie whities will be the death of me
At my age, I ain't got that long
Ha... a fairy tale!!!
Leisurely walk around Lords non stop pop of champagne cork
Scorecard dork does chalk the first over from Will O’Rourke
Another flowering Kiwi tree who gets the ball to talk & fork
While towering style of Kyle with guile & wile gall fans gawk
Doff your hat to Matt who really is all that aficionados squawk
Smith another hawk with similar riff for this tiff swing will stalk
Serious talent apparent not transparent with delirious torque
Balk one last refrain from the reign of Kane the Kiwi bulwark
If it grips rips what pips seeing Glenn Phillips flips & fillips
Golden arm charm can disarm like when baby Joe in skips
With Kane masters and pastors of snips missing the slips
Nudges nurdles overcomes hurdles as fans lick their lips
Never ruffled by kerfuffles silky shuffles and wristy whips
Express bouncer nips & dips caress the ball off their hips
Finesse not largesse witness their prowess heavenly sips
Zach having been so cack defence so slack got the sack
No coming back picked from the pack Gay to have a crack
Not out of whack got the knack this season has got a stack
Trust plucky Ducky again gets lucky no vastly ghastly hack
Stokesy becomes like Wokesy bat & ball gets us off the rack
Dirty Harry not shirty silly willy nilly hill billy flirty is like smack
In Ashes dung Tongue among the flashes of changing tack
No Josh tosh stung with gung ho bolts flung stumps thwack
Tongue climbs a rung with pace he brung others made us yack
Golly after much flak jolly Ollie the wally again leads the attack
After scold behold in from the cold part of fold & in the black
Coz after Oz fires our tyres flat just old hat we need a new jack
If not too chatty no cheeky drag on sneaky f*g or fatty snack
Hopefully no folly he will be fit on the track give us bit we lack
No off his trolley verbal volley Ollie could be return of the Mac
The Barmy Army still wading among the dung
After Ashes tsunami any new songs now sung
Aussies smarmy but new Harmy..Josh Tongue
Dream of gung ho team does seem far flung
Baz loves betting & forgetting.. took a bung?
Beyond reproach coach on to job has clung
Some fans jest but suggest should be hung
For bish bash bosh tosh Mac attack’s brung
Yep Jacob up his eponymous ladder swung
Radder bowler Josh has climbed many a rung
Cruel BazBull rule made us all madder..stung
Cool fool with incontinent bladder & one lung
New flair heirs did woo with their foo & kung
We coo pair made us gladder.. despair wrung
No longer unsung.. Bet Hell & its fiery Tongue
What should I write, what do you think
How's about tightie whities
The kind that get most women all worked up
Divesting themselves of their nighties
Even if you plead you have a headache
She's in no condition to listen
Those tightie whities are driving her crazy
Down below she starts goin' fishin'
All of a sudden your headache disappears
Now it's you who's all gung-ho
You yell out “tally ho ride 'em cowboy”
She screams bloody murder “woo hoo”
That continues for about thirty-eight seconds
Then collapsing exhausted on the floor
You scream out “got a cramp in my leg”
She yells, “want more, want more, want more!”
Think to myself that's the very last time
It's polka dot boxers from now on
Tightie whities will be the death of me
At my age, I ain't got that long
Ha... a fairy tale!!!
Makes me giddy…that most ferocious...
Precocious host & toast of diddy men....
Spunky cut sl*t....Ben...sweep junkie....
Funky monkey boast...squat & chunky..
No ruddy fuddy duddy
Croney…phoney baloney
Bucket Hat Duckett isn't
A bloody one trick flunkie..
But a gung ho show pony
In good nick..ramp champ.. taking the mick..
Willy nilly picks...slick flicks
From Sehwag's brag blag
Swag bag of tricks..
Sometimes sinner..silly billy snicks..
Winner against spinner or the quicks…
Heaven sent style…bat on ball, hell bent on heaving..
Tops them all…by a mile...leaving just 2 percent…
Never a defender...run pile smile..despite his trials...
Repeat offender...defiles with wiles & guile…
Never ending..peaky blinding..
Cheeky spellbinding Virender bender..
Nowt finer than our own homegrown wristy
Trippy Mr Whippy with a double 99ner..
Crave heroic stoic diddy Dave darlings..
Rave about our little fave…
Sending snarling gnarly
Giants to their grave…
Thanks to our tiny shiny
Spank tank in the phalanx ranks…
Simple cricket gambit...
See it..hit it..as you see fit..
Nifty impudent imps giving it large…
Sneaky shifty sprites living it large…
Name in lights..plucky puckish lucky zen…
Cocky stocky men..slap happy..
Bucket hat Ben Duckett..
Our diddy giddy wee chappy!
(whose video powerfully, profoundly, and
positively affected this southeastern residing
Pennsylvania papa)!
Afflicted with Cystic Fibrosis since her birth
contagious exuberance, gung-ho,
infectious jubilance noah dearth
which eye opening (then tearing)
podcast link sent tummy
FaceBook account,
she distilled and
didst poignantly blog the
purpose driven life,
no matter...hmm...
her existential time
nearing thee finis
line on planet Earth
though upworthy defying
deathly clasp of grim reaper,
who scythe lent
lee doth await
she (titled lass of poem) established
a substantial supportive network,
via such an up
beat aura, charisma,
persona, et cetera create
ting global bond sans,
world wide web, aye equate
chance lucky opportunity
to witness airily especial
and gutsy acceptance
of her (congenital) grim fate
while this healthy
(as an oxymoron) lix
spit tilling chap doth hate
sweaty palms (a minor,
though tolerable inconvenience)
versus being irate
at an accursed disease
still no cure as of late,
yet...state of
the art revolutionary treatments
provide longevity, and... YES
possibility to discover a mate
though consigning severe limitations
but...WOW, that girl (unknown
til yesterday) doth narrate
positivity, which amazing
will power didst permeate,
within thine noggin
triggering sincere flowing tears
bursting forth at an unstoppable rate
hence this attempted rye
ming livingsocial tribute
to go for broke
esprit de corps elan trait
completing a bucket list
while eternal sleep will wait!
Thralldom etched in *****sapiens (mine) DNA
Though your true blue stated civilian
never enlisted nor impressed,
nonetheless I own an opinion
originally embarked on poetic quest
to express purposelessness,
when soldiers rest
at peace i.e. eternally,
many attired courtesy
smart uniform strong with zest.
Psyche steeped, macerated, brewed
as token scapegoat, cue
trumpets Don to toot
courtesy more'n one
nasty shortish brute
weasley chastened me
round mulberry bush
said monkeys chased scaredy
cat me... point moot
regarding... rung me
ragged standing astute
adjacent Thomas Jonathan
"Stonewall" Jackson
(Confederate general during
American Civil War),
his own troops accidentally
fired on him during
Battle of Chancellorsville
in Virginia doth not compute
"friendly fire" unleashed during
one among many hot pursuit
part and parcel of wars,
since time immemorial
gung ho practiced soldier and/or
scared cat neophyte unwittingly shoot
pellets traveling speed of
sound bullet out - gunmetal chute
ordinarily pardoned distinct mistake
versus homicide statute
nonetheless...about
thee (rhetorical question), wherefore
art thou purpose to war,
those slain now paid tribute
since major hostilities of
World War I formally
ended at 11th hour of 11th
day of 11th month of 1918
yet... I question military conflicts
battle hymns constitute
legacy e'er since Homo
sapiens stood erect,
many soldiers of misfortune,
sons of destitute
versus wealthy heirs accepted perception
that war was "a rich man's war
and a poor man's fight"
countless generations ago
deserters fate would mean execute
"the bastard," even second decade
into twenty first century
once sworn in at basic training,
getting discharged (vodka luck), but absolute
zero tolerance quitting before
duty commitment desertion flagrant violation,
no easy task leaving service minus
tribunal meeting severe to prosecute,
thus joining military unlike
accepting any other job
punishment greater than Das boot,
yet patriotism, née jingoism
not ideal, viz conflict resolution,
verstehen, or did this wordsmith convolute?