Long Half dozen Poems
Long Half dozen Poems. Below are the most popular long Half dozen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Half dozen poems by poem length and keyword.
How Can I Compensate...?
Just between myself,
and cosmic force
this good fella agreed
to dedicate, postulate,
validate, et cetera,
what virtue thine parents fostered,
(like a beach house child),
sans within this sole son
they did breed
allowing, enabling, and providing
nonestablishmentarian
beliefs, dogma and/or creed
dance clearwater revival,
and oft times did
substantiate ethical paradigm
with convincing deed
this keen awareness,
(viz 20/20 hindsight)
awoke of late
(maybe last half dozen years)
where family members of origin,
(NOT tubby confused
with Oregon) did exceed
asper basic concerns
dealing with a warm
hearth and home freed
the requisite responsibility
of me to support (or try)
Matthew Scott Harris, where greed
(yes, this truth must
be bluntly admittedly stated,
no matter adult
responsibilities shirked)
yours truly flagrantly
did not heed
and thus at this near
three decade orbitz
sol hymn lee cycled
round the sun indeed
a sincere pursuit spurs this
expressed objective keyed
via this 2009 MacBook
Pro Laptop lead
ding me towards pro active
game bit (gambit)
under_scoring NO need
nor ulterior, interior, or exterior
hidden agenda,
and matter of fact
accepting (NO MONEY
down or up), no
Apr, May, June...
(absolutely) nothing,
within whatever capacity,
I (mutter hoof act)
help at reo speed
wagon dog gone Mutt and Jeff,
and if nothing materials
aye thank ye taking thyme
to peruse this wacky weed
(for reed dull.)
Something seems amiss,
yard creatures abound today
demanding and fighting over seed and food.
The usual half dozen squirrels
have doubled up,
unfamiliar birds have come.
Each more determined and persistent
than the residents
the familiar furry faces of the seasons.
Aggressiveness is rampant
and the regulars, more timid
are pushed off to the sidelines.
They wait patiently
in hidden places of refuge
the holly and the full leaved brush.
The cold falls heavy on the leaves
that crunch beneath
fast, quick, tiny feet.
The parade goes on constant on the move
for an hour or more
and then suddenly, mid morning -
all is quiet
only a few remain behind,
the clean up crew.
Like scavengers
they prevail
retaking their place and residence in the yard.
As a bouncing baby boy
syne of tragic travails in the offing tolled
courtesy analogous bell think Pavlov's employ;
yours truly me mama's apron strings rolled
secure around stubby fingers brought joy
created and garnered webbed wold
between she who helped beget me thru ploy
constituting biological reproduction.
Peter Pan syndrome
not recognized as bonafide diagnosis
encapsulates mein kampf and hard times,
whereby mine childhood's end
dreaded, linkedin and thwarted adulthood
courtesy Anorexia nervosa
(long before said illness
the popular rage
during roaring (2000) twenties
mainly among females)
as feeble attempt to avoid
transitioning into manhood
evidenced today upon
cusp of twilight (zone) years,
when dark shadows (albeit psychological)
metaphorically house these lovely bones
id est twenty first century caveman
with stunted body, mind and spirit.
I feel invisibly chained
to mine early days of yore,
an idealized stage since nostalgia tore
at short lived mettlesome breastplate
activating devastating - festering civil war
leaving seeds of potential emasculation
these approximate three score
years since exiting birth canal,
when both parents in their prime
tickled pink and enthralled
with choice of lifelong paramour.
Renee Cardone therapist
associated with SpringFord school district
doxyme portal allows, enables,
and provides telemedicine
cited how I, a long haired
pencil necked geek aging baby boomer
essentially lives marginal existence
self, constricted, hobbled, quarantined...
since... majority of half dozen plus decades
brought forth upon terrestrial firmament
circumscribing outer limits,
when on January 13th, 19xx
one strong contraction
I ain't kidding ousted
future adverbial, he/him one wily wordsmith
makes period dick exclamation,
viz noun sensible, proverbial...,
who dangled me like a participle,
(hence obstetrician put the scare
of wuthering heights
within yours truly)
well seasoned whippersnapper,
who frolicked in summer re:
amidst the purple rain.
I doff my fedora to the feller who invented pertater chips!
That genius developed the ideal thingy in which to immerse our dips!
How could we survive sans our weekly fix of Dominoes pizza pie,
Or a half-dozen Dunkin Donuts consumed on the sly?
Ain't nothin' as finger lickin' good as Kentucky Fried, original of course,
Or a Wendy's triple bacon 'burger when you're as famished as a horse!
Ah! The myriad of Mexican fixin's offered by the local Taco Bell!
Chimichangas, burritos, tacos, tostadas and enchiladas as well!
Japanese and Chinese establishments offer mysterious and fancy fare.
Try sushi, octopus, crawfish or deep fried squid if you dare!
If you crave ice cream, cookies or a hunk of cake or such cuisine,
Hie yourself on down the street to the nearest Dairy Queen!
For the hotdog aficionado there are weenie varieties galore;
Foot longs, chilidogs, smothered in sauerkraut and so many more!
Want some scrumptious and satisfying grub that'll fill your belly?
Get a ham on rye, thick salami or a Rueben at the neighborhood deli!
At Dad's BBQ you can order any kind of barbeque with greasy fries.
To top off the pancakes at The Village Inn you can buy chocolate pies!
Doctors and nutritionists would cringe at such a diet of course.
Fiddle faddle! I'll keep on eatin' that stuff with absolutely no remorese!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;
The storms are raging on God’s deep—
God’s deep, not yours; be still and sleep.
Charles H. Spurgeon
(Streams in the Desert)
DAY OF DELIVERABLES
italian sausage with banana
peppers in a sesame seed bun.
earlier donuts,
as J Christopher’s served
plenteous tables, needing
to be bussed — no sense
fussing over customers,
waiting on me and him.
you would have given us
the day having not enough
hands to deliver the stuff.
life is rough, post-pandemic.
we will stir our coffee again
in your establishment, reputable,
but for now our brunch grab
is a half-dozen, craved, cream-
filled, and fried, chocolate covered
and glazed. my eyes. i scramble us
up some cheesy-eggs so we don’t
just fall asleep as the world calls
to memory our dead - quite likely
the reason we live. books leak
into my eyes, lips, ears — gears
turning with a one day panacea
of someone else’s lives. the other
hand free to stress over the internet
that doesn’t allow for catch up
of files. day spent riled, filled,
and not alone nor in stacks. stack
that all up to life on earth. angels
watch my ups and downs.
that is my teeth crunching, gritting,
sounding out words from Coopers’
Muskrat Castle on Glimmerglass,
and a couple chapters of Sawyer’s
Sinking Sand, with a hopeful side
of Cowman’s May 31st reading.
flipping pages, not pancakes,
nor my wig — ruminating about
many things: my mother…
6/1/2021
Books mentioned:
The Deerslayer by James Fenimore Cooper
Sinking Sand by Kim Vogel Sawyer
Streams in the Desert by L.B. Cowman
September 1999
Floyd made his landfall
right here on our tropical isle
at category four strength
on the Saffir - Simpson scale
The winds which came
out of his mouth
were so strong that he had blown away
the rooftops off all the houses
hotels and coconut trees
like lighted candles on top
of a child's birthday cake
His ferocious thirst of water
made him perspire his sweat
from among his cloudy body
which created additional ocean bodies upon our land
the sounds of his thunderous voice
was as loud as a juke box
no electricity, no showers
no phone calls
no viewing of new favorite cartoon episodes
The saddest part about Floyd's visit
which will never be forgotten
where he ruined the celebration
of the first half dozen years of my life
but he was gifted with first piece of cake
upon his departure
Shoot! Nothing like killing spree to bookend August 2019!
The latest homicide,
where gunman(men) slew
dirty deed done dirt cheap
half dozen innocent people drew
minimal horrific gasps, now a new
month (September two
thousand nineteen)
where goldenrods yellow
with morning dew
encompassing human zoo
welcomes unsuspecting killer(s) true
to form - predictably
will undertake to fire bullet(s)
setting calibrating counting queue
as month nine allows brisk business
bereaved will final adieu,
whether gentile nor Jew,
perhaps including
child named Caillou
instantaneously slain, who
knew
not what felled them
engrossed amidst social ballyhoo
ex post facto registering grievous hue
pallbearers accentuating somber view
eclipsing most recent prior massacres
similar to previous you
ululations yesterday's sorrows
without handy dandy blue's clue
motive explaining
cold blooded slaughter
unsurprising discovery
firearms Jane/ John Q.
Public kept stashed loaded, deployed...
guns up the kazoo
cocked, gauged, primed...
for unleaded opportunity
to unleash barrage
invariable generating hullabaloo
to curb bloody violence
trumpeting predictable brew
ha ha alloyed against National
Rifle Association almighty
Republican supported lobbyist crew
versus increased uproar
protesters chorus nearly few
tile opposition pitted grand Poobah
despite alarming statistics shew
plus increasing fresh gravesites dug
amidst freshly mowed fescue
attesting to wanton shell shocked
headlines indiscriminate brew
tilly assaulting sensibilities
without rhyme nor reason
yet, yours truly doth boo
leave rampant hatred
directly linkedin to
"FAKE" commander in chief
whose rabid vitriol hue
man fountainhead few
ming and frothing
lathers up right wing supremacists
greenlighting smoldering new
bile radicals hot headed
volatile mindset whereby
self anointed anarchistic Guru
possibly fuels global warming
evidenced by displaced Eskimos
flooding courtesy melting igloo!
Bugger
17th July 2015
Last night my missus gave me some oysters for tea
Was I in for a night of rip snorting whoopee?
I showered and shaved trying to smell like a stud
Her half dozen oysters must have all of been duds.
Things were desperate so I engaged in foreplay
What old men do when they want a roll in the hay
I groveled I pleaded, even whined like a dog
But for all of my efforts all I got was a snog.
So should she ever give me a little blue pill
I now know it sure won’t be for an evening of thrill.
Her response
So you’re disappointed
That all you got was just a snog
How about make an effort
Stop smelling like grog
I don’t care for begging,
And sexual wee stirrings
Have a shave and a shower,
That'll start me concurring.
Now take your hand off my breast,
Just help me cook the kids tea
Grab the vacuum, do the house,
That’ll be enough foreplay for me
Hang out the washing,
Then feed the pets.
Do homework with the kids
Please now go make the beds,
Scrub all the pots,
Make sure you do the lids
Thank you my dear,
Your help was just great,
It's nice just not to nag
What! What do you mean?
You’re too tired for a shag?
28th September
Silent One's Competition
In response to my first poem
Silver eyed blackbirds from above
and beige browned turtle doves
stake out the yard searching in need
between the fallen leaves for seed.
Red winged orange cardinals appear
calm awaiting their turns to spear
as burnt umber wrens rush
with burnished sparrows hiding in the brush,
A half dozen burly furred squirrels race
with each other straddling trees in the chase;
peeking in and out the thicket for cues
where tag and play ensues.
Aggressive blue jays screech
pushing everyone aside in their reach,
pouncing on squirrel and bird alike
save the dominant silver eyes blackbird spike.
Few are brave enough to stand and hold their ground
taking in the yard that abounds
as they run or fly rather than stay
to quick escape to sky or tree away.
With the sudden early wintry chills
each recognize the familiar thrills
no longer come at dawning
skipping in the earlier mornings.
The yard is still alive
with chatter and play
as creatures of the garden thrive
ready to greet the challenge of the day.
Unorthodox nonestablismentarian epitome
Describes celibate bent aegis.
Mein kampf illustrates gravitas.
Underdog muted lest intimidation
think bully brandishing fist in my face
threatening to buzzfeed me
a brassy knuckle sandwich.
While breezily reading Judy Bloom,
(whose material geared
toward young adult)
book titled Blubber - published in 1974,
(which year found yours truly - me
undergoing amazing transition
classified as puberty)
bemoaned childhood's end - id est mine
interestingly enough romanticized boyhood
livingsocial within Lake Woebegone
(way before Garrison Keillor
named said fictitious town),
purely swiftly tailored
harried styled fabrication,
although that first decade
found torturous growing up years
more so courtesy
self exclusion from reindeer games,
thus during lunch or recess
(two most favorite classes)
bullies turned me into minced meat
taunted and teased
a severely socially withdrawn boy,
who never shared emotional agony,
he internalized verbal slings and arrows
eventually physically succumbed
from brickbats indiscriminately
lobbed at painfully shy
once upon a time happy go lucky lad,
(with a button nose),
when he whiled away days of his life
as the world turned
first at Lantern Lane
for about a half dozen plus years,
then at 324 Level Road
for approximately
one third of present existence
unbeknownst to him
that psychologically dark shadows
lurked within the outer limits
of the twilight zone
haunting corporeal essence
attached to those lovely bones,
now saddled with excess adipose tissue,
especially around belly of the beast
housing hunger artist
starving for knowledge,
and peopling his overactive imagination
with exemplary protagonists
blithely thwarting incendiary threats,
cuz of natural born defense against
gunning character assassination
courtesy fearsome imbeciles
hell bent on nasty, short and brutish fiends,
who did their collective bidding
vis-à-vis cut throat leviathan,
who overshadowed and locked in
propensity to live free and clear
analogous to unfettered noble savage
cannibalizing yours truly (me) as fancy feast.
Soul asylum salvation sought
as if survivor of mental health challenges
akin to foreigner trying
to sidestep gingerly self annihilation.