Long Hairy Poems
Long Hairy Poems. Below are the most popular long Hairy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hairy poems by poem length and keyword.
Enroling you a worm (cumbersome and)
hairy, you- scimitar of leaves
Knows the pain ,writhing pupae
Abandoned and convicted
Constricted hanging straightjacket
Squirming like a jackrabbit
Gagged nocturnally - blindfold humility
Rejected by those mocking moths
and jealously believing left the key
Both found our grace on bended knees
..left there dangling from a tree..
Unhinge now those spinakers of glory
Pretty - flaky- flinder
Streaked in splatters paint
Dust of the fairies
Gaze at me with criss-cross eyes
Innocent beauty oh ye butterfly
Spiny antennae, stretching out transmitters
Taking flight so easily
Flitting off with no goodbyes
To a newer afternoon over there
Dashing in the sun
Kneeding and gouging all those zinnias
Joy! Slurping up the nectar
Whisky! Tequila! Brandy and Champagne!
Swops them for a chorus of pansies
Dancing blooming flowers
Crazy blessed colours
Bouncing delight.- erratic in flight
Dodging in between the bees
O enchanted mystic butterfly
Only pausing for a while
Hold me in your spell
For you walked that crooked mile
Linger in this dream
So seldom comes to see
Just as you, my timepiece too
Is coiled in spring
A dustpuff within the wind
Specked all over pollen confetti
Envied now by every moth
Suicidal circle - one kamikaze candle
Seared and singed and slowly fried
Getting what theyre vetted for
But the sun his laughing in his sky
Beseeching all the yet to open flowers
Awake !Awake!
An angel is coming by
Lord, save this unholy Baptist!?
Her lactation, like mother's juice,
slakes thirsty tongues with creamy gist.
To flush her slick love-chamber's sluice,
with corkscrew thumbs, and practiced wrists,
like a gander she mauls her goose!
If hairy chest stirs those supple breasts
in whorish barns (near lover's inns),
then with my cock's erectest crest,
the buttocks (of her cleft nether-chin),
like meat pies, I durst hurry test,
lest I, limp, err in deadly sins!
But I pray Thee, O holy Godhead!
I durst not be so thus content'd,
when, like dogwood, is my sainthead,
when goes my pizzle unlament'd;
and, like Pan, to c*nt the nunhead,
I've foregone your grace, unrepent'd.
I think you all should know, bout a situation set to go.'
Its coming real soon.' Elephant in the room!
Wow its hairy and fast, Canada don't find out last.!
Now you won't hear of this in your zoom.
Some sqirrels from Britain real wild. Got to Russia
Now they're not meek and mild..They've had enough
Of (your grays) and their un-social ways, so they are
Armed and coming in to invade.' They have good p r to
Employ, they are cuddly, and look like great toys, if you
Don't think its so.? Wait till you hear from trudeau..!
Who is readying all means to deploy.' Every asset will be
In the field, he vows that one tree; he'll not yeild.' Its
Pure oxygen to him see.' A cause celer'e like it should be.!
A situation so dire...That he just can't retire; for this Diversion will get him off his knees.' He will come out all
Chipper and spry ' mainstream media polluted with lies
Red squirrels, from Russia.' Well from Britian, it don't really
Crush; ya! Every voice of dissent mischeif and many awake and most pro-active fiends.! He'll be your long haired Saviour, if you'll only inhale yeah.' The aroma he's got up his
Sleeve, he's all pc and lovey, never hawkish real dovey
Courts out on how well, his great role is recieved.?
By Sashi.Prabhu(zeauoxian0
(18th February 2012 nite at Kentucky shack on colva beach)
I was browsing through the menu and laid my eyes upon interesting cocktails and mock tails.
I snapped up the names with the blackberry camera and wove them together to couplets.
Dedicate this one to my friends who love and cherish the cocktails and mock tails.
Cheers……………………………
With love from zeauoxian, black lady, Tom Collins,
Three peaks merlot, white lady, John Collins.
Between the sheets, pink pusy, screaming ******,
Pink lady, lost bikini, ******.
Misty nite, hairy navel, ding a ling,
Sunset, buttock clencher, Singapore sling.
Lady killer, fuzzy navel, coconut diaquiry,
Bloody Mary, fenny wenny woo woo, orange diaquiry.
Pure calypso, climax, kick in the balls,
Caribbean fever, planter’s punch, rocks for the dolls.
Peach pleasure, tequila sunrise, margarita,
Pina coloda, sunset, caipirnha.
Coco colada, slippery dick, the hammer,
Gimlet, sweet nips, tequila slammer.
Passona orange, passona lime, sex on the beach,
Orange blossom, lime blossom. Passionate peach.
Gin fiz, Cuba libre, Roby Roy,
Black lagoon, black Russian, beach buoy.
Fight fiesta, stinger rum cocktail, side car,
Negroni, pink elephant, brandy lime shot from the bar.
Mohjito, long island iced tea, whiskey sour,
Renaissance merlot, vina tarapoca chardonnay.
All these heady concoction,
Many of them and lots of action.
The science of achohol blending, of the art of mixology,
All these to the tipper is fun and to do with a smooth tripology!!!!!!!!
Had a beard since nineteen sixty-two
Hate to think what's underneath
Might even be a family of boat people
Maybe an old Christmas wreath
Heard that it's even quite possible
Animals have been known to survive
In the depth of my hairy countenance
Where they multiply and thrive
Haven't felt much movement lately
Though sometimes I feel a twinge
Perhaps whatever is living in there
May have gone on a drunken binge
Bottom line is I'll still have this beard
When they lower me into the ground
Don't dare shave it off for fear little beasties
Will leap out and scurry around
© Jack Ellison 2012
I courted a girl
Who turned out to be a whore.
She was hairy and had black eyes
What the pimps say
What does beauty mean
Well:
-Hairy woman with black eyes
Awesome woman.
She took me to an apartment
In Plaza Tirso de Molina
In Madrid capital.
She mounted me
I mounted her without a condom
And, a few days later, she told me:
-She was pregnant
Because I did it well.
Upset
And with no desire to be a father
I went to Casa de Campo
To go around four times
To ask the whores
Who traffic there
If they knew her
Because, maybe
That child conceived was not mine
But someone else's.
I told her it
And she got very angry with me.
She told me:
-You will be the father.
Wait for the child to come out
And you will see.
I told my mother it
Who was rambling
Almost finishing
And she answered me:
-Son, to what's done chest.
Don't be upset that you fell in love
With a whore.
All women are whores.
True whores are made
To enlighten men
And virgin and holy whores
To walk around in the dark.
I decided today when I woke up
To write a poem for everyone
I'd start off with the very old
And end up with the young
In between I'd have kings and queens
Along with a peasant or two
A genius with a dozen degrees
Even a few without a clue
For the in-laws and the outlaws
Though at times they act the same
If right now they're sitting next to you
No need to mention names
I'd also write it for the Catholics
Protestants and Jews
So as not to leave anyone out
A Methodist marching band with kazoos
What would a poem for everyone be
Without rodeo and circus clowns
The ones that paint happy faces
Over the top of their life's frowns
The tall the short and skinny of course
Those that are tipping the scale
Which these days are most of us
But let's not dip into that well
And of course I can't leave out
All the gays and all the straights
Who never knew that they were straight
Until the gays knew they were gay
I guess we've all been labeled
I really don't mean to offend
Oops...I almost forgot to include
All the mustached women and hairy backed men
If you find you weren't in here
And think that your unmentionable
I'd like you to know my friend
My rudeness was unintentional
You may take this poem for everyone
And do with it what you wish
Perhaps the closest receptacle
Where it may join it's friends...the trash
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?
“Why Hast thou”?
My unripe hairy-brain makes its claim
to be the image of its Father.
My vision today
could turn a green leaf brown,
or scorn itself, seeing only
the thoughts that feed it.
Forsaken… The melodrama is delicious.
Why? Why do I tilt my head like a bird
trying to see its reflection in the ocean?
Hast thou, or hast thee not?
In this my ninth hour will I find life
or rot forgot?
How can you bear my accusing stare,
how dare you dare
shatter
an accusatory word with a deep saliferous
silence.
Beetle browed I plow. How can You scorn,
the bully-dog furrow of this my marrow.
I am a borrowed creature poured out
- in water drowned.
Fishbowl eyes ogle the underside
of a mystery leased by onlookers.
Hast thou forsaken
Your own fishing expedition?
Hast thou seen, hast thou fled
the scene, hast thou ever been?
Your quietus plods deadly
upon my waters – my flesh
blooms bad.
Father, my unctuousness bleeds.
Yea, these uncertain breaths
rattle a ribbed-caged bird,
make it sing doleful.
Then as a clabbered lump,
I clump your sacred ground,
tromp it down until I am under it.
As a birds broken wing
flutters now slick with mud, now unbroken
and yet un-fluttering
I am this squelched uttering.
Forsake or string me along - go on!
What is this nothing that attracts
like a woman’s eye’s?
Why don’t You go away,
that I might feel You going,
that I might know
You were once I.
Father hast thou remembered me,
or hast Thou forsaken
your once born?
I hear laughter in the ever-after.
Wilt thou tuck me tight into the long night?
Hast thou misplaced me – unremembered?
Will I blunder yet into the light?
Calling Death
Just sitting in the room. Cold air comes from the window
Dawn woke me up from the cemetery. Great early lights
Calling the eternal life. The clock has stopped. It’s time
The heart is still beating. So fast. Pain and pressure inside
Need to change, change the time. Passed years. It’s global
All this life has gone away. A little river takes brown leaves away
Hmm. Just walk. In the past. But still living my life. Hmm. Why?
Always here. Be. Always here. Walking here, my soul is phantom-like
Can you see? So many names and times are signed on stones
Look around. Around. Just around. They are the victim witnesses
I see their life. They lived their noble age. Oh, passed the noble age
I am mortally envious of the lives of these dead people. Love them
I want to live. I want to live in their past. I feel. That was a nice time
Dead past. Living in my mind. Tactile stones. All. Spiritual hights
I feel them. Amazing their smiles. Kindred spirits live together. Are
Here is hidden. What I am looking for the love. The hope. Hoped love
Dead. In this life. I kill myself. I cut my veins. Mirtazapine. Loving death
Loves the death. Pull me back. From this life. English psychology. From.
English psychology killed my life. Because I loved the origin. God’s love
Foggy science. Can’t accept my life. I am a Christian. Europe. Hungary
I can’t accept this mentality. I am from the old continent. Soul says. Stop
English psychology is money. And power. Can’t rule my life. Never.
I don’t accept the degeneration. Yeah. I love the hairy peach. Life. End.
I can’t find the life. Life is exiled. Life has no right to live. Psychology drives life
I am old. Tired bones. Walks always take place here. Anonymous gravestone
Unnamed stone board. My love. My love. Bring a big hammer. Destroy this stone
Then flies a soul. I need this. Kill me. You kill me. I don’t kill myself. Do. Calling death
The gate is open
Step in
Cemetery
Calling Death
From his sweetie Dave took lots of guff
'Cause his beard was mighty ruff
Too bad you get fewer kisses, Dave
Try Burma Shave - its all the rave!
Do you sprout a very wild stubble?
Have you heard of the latest rave?
You'd save yerself a ton of trouble
Taming yer mug with Burma Shave!
We feel very sorry for poor Walter
His bride left him standing at the altar!
His whiskers scratched her lovely face
Should-a used Burma Shave to save face!
Is that 5 o'clock shadow giving you stress?
And are the ladies noticing you less?
Then, on yer mug you should slather
A creamy coat of Burma Shave lather!
While they were dancing cheek to cheek
Said she, "Go paddle up the creek!
You scratched my face, you hairy knave!
Next time treat yer mug with Burma Shave!"