Long Haunch Poems

Long Haunch Poems. Below are the most popular long Haunch by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Haunch poems by poem length and keyword.


Filched Physiognomy Mine

Filched Physiognomy - Mine!

Absolute zero escape
velocity guts dance
sing days (contra and square),
cuz metabolic full abundance
abdominal adipose tissue acceptance
not in accordance

with light as a feather
miss lost acquaintance
the boy within forced admittance
as sure man tanks of fat did advance
shotgun marriage demanded allegiance
to pledge lifetime alliance

no room for allowance
crushing lightness of being ambiance
nor allies to help me combat
battle fatigue require
ring superman endurance
to muster strength

to stand erect else ambulance
will whisk away husky
embarrassing appearance
loose fitting clothing
jelly roll appurtenance
overnight digital readout,

asper body mass index
scaled quick ascendance,
thus when showering,
I look askance
fearing bulging balloon
will necessitate assistance

else... diet of worms
as only assurance
safeguarding body electric
against hecklers at open casket
no matter, a small perchance
crowd in attendance
yea... eventual cremation

after life only fat chance
to alleviate present circumstance
heavy matter fails security clearance
the price for astute cognizance
weak willpower alighting countenance
esse pie ying sweet treats

now measures taken to counterbalance
to fight temptation and dalliance
overruling feasting craving delectation
to restore trim deliverance
love handles around equator
no magician can render disappearance

yes the discontinuance
of just dessert must maintain distance
without being weighed
down with disturbance
by heaviest haunch
ain't no elegance

lugging extra encumbrance
when throughout my early life,
skinny, yet able to steel glance
mirrored reflection now grievance,
where wistful memory
ha...ironic insouciance

more so than
today finds intolerance,
thus woebegone issuance
thorn in muss hide
to experience jubilance
hmm...maybe a strong

arm can lance
excess flab quite a nuisance
to defy gravity, why penance
sans unsightly paunch
yours truly laments skin
tight fit, thus petulance

lame excuse unwanted protuberance
necessitates dedicated pursuance
recollection of washboard
abdomen impossible, yes
nothing accomplished by remonstrance!


Open Arms Welcome Poetry Muse

Ideally yours truly prefers 
a she/her who never got prosecuted for a felon, 
yet who most deaf fin knit lee  
possesses sound blinding killer instincts
think miracle worker Anne Sullivan
signifying rendering phenomenal success 
with one female named re: amazing Helen
exhibiting discerning admirable qualities
constituting intelligent witty male
despite his/him sports haunch size of a melon. 

I gently beckon inspiration
for dalliance with mother tongue
English Language, each
singular lettered manifestation
familiar to yours truly symbolized
by panoply, sans twenty six letters,

whereby this patient wordsmith
luxuriates, when writer's block
yields sudden gush,
nee burst of creativity
dissolving impenetrable wall
mental log jammed impasse,

discourages literary ambitions
dashed exerted forcefulness
'pon cerebral terra incognita
counterproductive grip locks
figurative drawbridge begetting
utmost frustration allowing egress

and ingress constituting obstructed surge
temporarily disabling free and clear
transmission between damned fount
barricading abundant bajillion ideas
silent at loggerheads clangor and din
analogous between unswerving enemies

prepared to fight till the death,
exhausting mental energy expended
attempting armistice with futile results,
hence quixotic oft repeated
time tested metaphor
i.e. deliberate pressure foisted

upon seat of aging cerebral matter
inadvertently coloring fist sized organ
at least fifty shades of gray,
versus unexpurgated brainstorming
linkedin with unfettered restraint
breeds favorable prodigious ideas

jotted/ typed stream of consciousness fashion
modus operandi favorable to engender
receptive access, asper (gas) excellent see
i.e. entrance untrammeled leeway
with minimal clash of opposing
titanic invisible entities
thus, aye abandon battering ram

to experience positive outcome
giving good n plenti profuse flood
unstoppable geyser spewing
plethora of appealing material
to arrange into cogent affinity, 
energy, magnanimity and synchronicity!

Question Mark Tale

Goddamn smartass squirrel goes through a window and starts slapping a plush toy. 
Turning it over and over.
"You got jacked, !"
Up on its attention antennae, sealed in clover.
Up for all comers, winters and summers, 
Springing into Fall cover.
Wiggle haunch, loose and clean, limber and mean. Mouse on his motorcycle meets mean Joe Greene.
Who's next?
Better get me some treats, sweetums!
Chew for my cheeks to expand a winning smile from.
Or I will have to open up my cute box for some
serious mind control, or nutsack, sodium snack (while you sleep.)
Through your window, balls deep, spread-eagle attack, sa la vie!

Maybe I'm a joker launched by the dealer of air.
Dealing a poker face behind, treeline stairs.
Aces high, rattatatat, fooey.
Watching your reactions the whole time.
Time you lose track of where I'm at in your mind.

(Birds ain't feeling just-safe next to us at the park!
They're picking up tips to get their nut, while playing a part.)
And how you get your nut really is an art.
A breed apart, like cats that squat at look innocent 
in the outback at PetSmart.

Yeah, birds of a feather, Woodpeckers 
are watching as they drumroll together.
The next sideby of your mind's eye.
By and by 
Fluffy tales of banditry and diversion, ensues.
Maybe next time you will slow down on that dirt road, cruise.

You've been nutted by the best my friend.
Peace.
Of mind.
Picnics and youth.
Sideshows of the divine.Send.
Runners of the gathering, enroute, 
to where your eyes keep and time spends,
your focus, to mesmerificalcarnivaltrifical-ends,
shaping truth.
Form: Rhyme

D Is For Doggerel

Oftimes I'm asked; “What drives you, Bro, to generate such verse, 
the bulk of which is awful and the balance, frankly, worse?” 
The dark side of reality fueled each chilling ode by Poe, 
For Macaulay, Roman heroes made his inkwell overflow.
Ernest Thayer waxed apoplectic when his baseball team fell flat, 
and thusways primed he penned the rhyme called “Casey at the Bat”.

Such things as these inspire me not, as time has surely proved. 
Sunrise, sunset, and sand and surf all leave me quite unmoved. 
All of natures grandeurs no rhyme from me will spawn. 
An hour of bliss, a baby’s kiss at best provokes a yawn. 
One sight only stirs my muse and brings my blood to boiling, 
and renders versifying a great pleasure, not a toiling, 
and flings wide creative floodgates that before were tightly shut. 
Nothing fans my rhyming flames like Kim Kardashians’ butt!

You may keep the rings of Saturn! No opus will they launch! 
But I’ll darken reams of paper re the joys of Kimmies’ haunch. 
While some bards wax euphoric at the lunar glow in June, 
I pen my rhymes more clearly by the light of  KayKay's moon.

She's so sexy!
She's so cute!
I love her steatopygean glute!
Pass my cam! I gotta shoot!
A picture of it,
O yes I love it!
I love that butt.
Call me a mutt!
(Perhaps in rutt)
But I love that titanic,
Oceanic,
and yet uniquely Kardashianic!
Butt!

Like water from a ruptured dam the flood of verse pours forth, 
inspired by a southern view of Ms. Kardashian, heading north.
Form: Rhyme

The Shape of Wings

Another day spent  
in my throbbing head. 
This day, a tightening noose, 
a smothering sheath of  
white, sterile gauze 
once loose.  
Moments I dread 
are swirling around  
in my head. 
(I close my eyes and fly away.)
   
Minute by minute, it’s here, 
light flashing, thunder crashing, 
too alive.  
I wait for tomorrow to arrive 
but night hangs. I feel 
It's rapid breathing.  
Head down, haunch heavy,  
hunched and heaving, 
it stays and stays  
and will not go away. 

Counting seconds,  
I clutch the cumbrous clock 
willing its face 
to unmask, its hands  
to complete their task, 
but here I lay 
still tethered to this day. 
(I close my eyes and fly away.)

I am not the anchor, 
not the purple fade, 
stitched skin pulling, 
lips parting in pain. 
Finally, I close my eyes 
and fly away.  

Do not come again 
    to a body waiting  
          for the grave, 

this vanishing 
    tangled on the vine. 

Be free, fly away... 

I am a blue bird 
rising high above. 
I am perched in treetops, 
the turtle dove. 
I am the shape of wings 
in the air, I become. 
I fly over a hurting world, 
my suffering, and time. 
I am folklore, a fairy tale  
on high. 

Come with me, be free, 
              feel the breeze   
                or watch me fly away. 




Written 5/12/22
For: Shapeshifters and Shapeshifting Contest


Premium Member A Red Neck Xmas

'Twas close to the day when Buba Claus,
His red nose and Bowie knife shining,
Would be off to fill the manly's hearths,
With bacon for their frying.

The ground was bare of snow or ice, 
The sky was clear of reindeer. 
But Buba Claus was loading his sleigh, 
Real high, with good stout Yule beer? 
 
Buba Claus was out in force, 
His NRA cronies in tow, 
To fill naughty radicals stockings, 
With tiny bits of coal. 
 
Cigars dangled from their lips, 
A spittoon he placed by their feet, 
And, before the sleigh rose off the ground; 
They tossed in another side of beef. 
 
Each carnivore, they laughingly swore; 
Would have their fill this year, 
And Bambi blanched as He flew by, 
While Teddy Bears ran in fear! 
 
Over New Canaan His courses flew, 
Past the homes of vegetarians; 
And down their chimneys they did toss; 
The views of Libertarians! (gasp) 
 
And when the last haunch was placed, 
Upon the spits of the mighty, 
His spat his cud of gnarly gum, 
Into the spittoon real tidy! 
 
Then he flew off with a Ho, Ho, Ho, 
And, not the ones for plowing (wink)
Cause Buba Claus had his own ideas 
Of all Santa's sissy endowings!
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Ho, Ho, Ho / a Redneck Xmas

‘Twas close to the day when Buba Claus,
His red nose and Bowie knife shining,
Would be off to fill the manly's hearths,
With bacon for their frying.

The ground was bare of snow or ice, 
The sky was clear of reindeer. 
But Buba Claus was loading his sleigh, 
Real high, with good stout Yule beer? 
 
Buba Claus was out in force, 
His NRA cronies in tow, 
To fill naughty radicals stockings, 
With tiny bits of coal. 
 
Cigars dangled from their lips, 
A spittoon he placed by their feet, 
And, before the sleigh rose off the ground; 
They tossed in another side of beef. 
 
Each carnivore, they laughingly swore; 
Would have their fill this year, 
And Bambi blanched as He flew by, 
While Teddy Bears ran in fear! 
 
Over New Canaan His courses flew, 
Past the homes of vegetarians; 
And down their chimneys they did toss; 
The views of Libertarians!  
 
And when the last haunch was placed, 
Upon the spits of the mighty, 
His spat his cud of gnarly gum, 
Into the spittoon real tidy! 
 
Then he flew off with a Ho, Ho, Ho, 
And, not the ones for plowing 
Cause Buba Claus had his own ideas 
Of all Santa’s sissy endowings!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Red Neck Xmas ( For Robert D.)

‘Twas close to the day when Buba Claus,
His red nose and Bowie knife shining,
Would be off to fill the manly's hearths,
With bacon for their frying.

The ground was bare of snow or ice, 
The sky was clear of reindeer. 
But Buba Claus was loading his sleigh, 
Real high, with good stout Yule beer? 
 
Buba Claus was out in force, 
His NRA cronies in tow, 
To fill naughty radicals stockings, 
With tiny bits of coal. 
 
Cigars dangled from their lips, 
A spittoon he placed by their feet, 
And, before the sleigh rose off the ground; 
They tossed in another side of beef. 
 
Each carnivore, they laughingly swore; 
Would have their fill this year, 
And Bambi blanched as He flew by, 
While Teddy Bears ran in fear! 
 
Over New Canaan His courses flew, 
Past the homes of vegetarians; 
And down their chimneys they did toss; 
The views of Libertarians! 

And when the last haunch was placed, 
Upon the spits of the mighty, 
His spat his cud of gnarly gum, 
Into the spittoon real tidy! 
 
Then he flew off with a Ho, Ho, Ho, 
And, not the ones for plowing  
Cause Buba Claus had his own ideas 
Of all Santa's sissy endowings!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Buba Claus

‘Twas close to the day when Buba Claus,
His red nose and Bowie knife shining,
Would be off to fill the manly's hearths,
With bacon for their frying.


The ground was bare of snow or ice, 
The sky was clear of reindeer. 
But Buba Claus was loading his sleigh, 
Real high, with good stout Yule beer?
 

 
Buba Claus was out in force, 
His NRA cronies in tow, 
To fill naughty radicals stockings, 
With tiny bits of coal. 

 
Cigars dangled from their lips, 
A spittoon he placed by their feet, 
And, before the sleigh rose off the ground; 
They tossed in another side of beef. 

 
Each carnivore, they laughingly swore; 
Would have their fill this year, 
And Bambi blanched as He flew by, 
While Teddy Bears ran in fear! 

 
Over New Canaan His courses flew, 
Past the homes of vegetarians; 
And down their chimneys they did toss; 
The views of Libertarians! 


And when the last haunch was placed, 
Upon the spits of the mighty, 
His spat his cud of gnarly gum, 
Into the spittoon real tidy! 

 
Then he flew off with a Ho, Ho, Ho, 
And, not the ones for plowing  
Cause Buba Claus had his own ideas 
Of all Santa's sissy endowings!

Haltingly With Excite

.

                 She laid poised
               'pon mine bedroll
                  Eyne beaming
                         lips
                     displaying 
            with sweet wide smile
                    hern pearls

           My kneez were buckling
         whilst mine eyne slithered
                her twisted torso

       ‘Exposing with relish she wuz
                hern hale haunch
                     Cocksure’

              What lover uv write
                  Would ignore
                    This share
                        Uv i
               “mine two digits
                      tap tap
                      tapping
              ‘pon this machine
              Whilst mine other 
               duke’s two digits
                       pulled
            Haltingly with excite
                         her 
           bikini bottom’s bowed
                       string”





*Cocksure: overly confident
  Hale: sound; free from defect

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