Long Hazzard Poems
Long Hazzard Poems. Below are the most popular long Hazzard by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hazzard poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm Boss Hogg and Rosco keeps trying to eat my food.
It's been my dream to see Daisy Duke in the nude.
The Duke boys keep fighting me because I'm a crook.
If you do business with me, you're going to get took.
Lulu is my wife and she's even fatter than me.
I'm going to hire a hitman so that I can be free.
It really bothers me because Rosco is my brother-in-law.
I puked all over the floor because Lulu just took off her bra.
Rosco can't catch the Duke boys, the souped up General Lee causes him to fail.
I will see Daisy naked and I won't rest until those Duke boys are in jail!
(This poem was inspired by The Dukes of Hazzard TV show which is my 2nd favorite TV show.)
SILHOUETTES
languish
shrouded
invisible
a
mecurial
so
profound
in
destructive
might
a moment
of
hazzard
to
overlook
in
an
unveiled
atmosphere
random
suspended
imagery
lingered long
clearly
distinctive
gazing
element
ferocity
unleashed
without
recourse
a chaotic
resonated
surging
power
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
I'm Boss Hogg and Rosco keeps trying to eat my food.
It's been my dream to see Daisy Duke in the nude.
The Duke boys keep fighting me because I'm a crook.
If you do business with me, you're going to get took.
Lulu is my wife and she's even fatter than me.
I'm going to hire a hitman so that I can be free.
It really bothers me because Rosco is my brother-in-law.
I puked all over the floor because Lulu just took off her bra.
Rosco can't catch the Duke boys, the souped up General Lee causes him to fail.
I will see Daisy naked and I won't rest until those Duke boys are in jail!
(This poem was inspired by The Dukes of Hazzard TV show which is my 2nd favorite TV show.)
It’s been four years since she grew her wings,
Time softly passed on silent strings.
A loving wife, a loyal friend,
A bond too strong for death to end.
They say time heals a broken heart,
But mine just learned to play the part.
It doesn’t ache the way it did—
It hides behind a hopeful lid.
God had a plan, I understand,
Yet still I reach to hold her hand.
I thank Him for the time we shared,
For all the ways she truly cared.
Though she's not here in form or face,
Her spirit fills the empty space.
The lessons come, her voice still near,
In dreams, in signs, she’s always here.
From Dukes of Hazzard, racing fast,
To Supernatural’s haunted past,?We laughed, we cried, we made our way,
Through every show and every day.
Crystals, chakras—oh, she tried,
With open heart and arms spread wide.
She spun my world, yet kept me still,
With steady love, unshaken will.
Though gone in body, not in soul,
She lives in me, she keeps me whole.
“Not forgotten"—true, you know,
My heart will always let it show.
So four years on, and still she sings,
In whispers, dreams, and angel wings.
And while I walk this path alone,
She is the light that leads me home.
Thats what we are seeing.' Its going to take rank and file
Disclosure..Or maybe a recording to be found in a boot
Sale i'd hazzard' to get (a grain of fresh disclosure) from
The locked up case? Of the island predator.' Strange how
Much time this luggage has done already? Will there be a
Liable case about the case? Is it a case of its a trunk in the
Drunk tank? Sorta misplaced?? I bet some heads of states
Are sleeping a little easier.? All over the world and in stardom there heve been so few.' Movies on this.! Maybe
A feature will pop up.? Some one might screen it on a
City wall? In a very busy time ( thats the only way i''d say )
Out from the ' sound of silence?'
Conquistadors in Vera Cruz
found themselves a radical ruse.
If pillaging was muy, muy lento,
they just whipped out Requerimiento.
Composed in fifteen seventeen,
this document was ultra-mean.
It won more scraps than Robert E. Lee,
was deadlier than DDT.
Suppose you met an Aztec mob
that wasn’t happy to be robbed,
and far from handing on a platter
its gold and silver, wives and daughters,
was minded to contest the matter,
Requerimiento got unrolled.
In legal Latin, gooks were told
with lots of quid and quod and quaem,
exactly what was sought of them.
The royal writ was read aloud
to help the puzzled Aztec crowd.
So none may later look askance,
the dinks got every sporting chance.
All the Aztecs had to do
(clause forty-nine of section two)
was pay the pope an agent's fee,
accept infallibility,
and send some gold to line his coffers.
Who could baulk at such an offer?
Clause fifty-eight – the Spanish king
must get his cut of Aztec bling.
They’re hazy over “king” and “Spain”?
We’ll have long decades to explain.
They don’t respond? It simply means
we blow them all to smithereens.
The finer points can wait till later.
Non-compliance means they’re traitors.
We read the thing, so now we’re free
of all responsibility
for theft or damage, flood or fire,
and if perchance it should transpire
that they don’t dig what’s going down,
why, take it up with Cross and Crown.
Thank God it’s not like that today.
Before we step into the fray,
we tell them they’re a “conflict zone”,
and send in laser-guided drones.
If they accept their crude religion
is now a dead and pointless pigeon,
and take divorce and teenage moms,
then we won’t use our cluster bombs.
There’s other stuff here, on our list –
like Coca-Cola, lobbyists,
The Dukes of Hazzard, John McCain,
obesity and acid rain …
at least we don’t do like before,
and sell them, as we wade ashore
to occupy their ancient land
some junk they’ll never understand.
Years have passed, but still you stay,
In quiet thoughts throughout my day.
Your laugh, your touch, your gentle grace—
I still can see your smiling face.
The world kept turning, time moved on,
But not a day feels like you’re gone.
You're in the wind, the evening air,
The empty seat, the silent chair.
You loved so true, with open arms,
Our fur babies safe in your warm charms.
You whispered hope when I felt low,
You were the light I came to know.
You'd light up when the TV played—
Dukes of Hazzard or when Sam and Dean stayed
One step ahead of fate and fear,
You loved that world—it felt so near.
The Impala’s hum, the rebel ride,
Matched that strong spark you had inside.
A little country, a little wild,
A loving heart, a playful child.
We made a life, we built our own,
And now I walk this path alone.
But every step, you walk with me,
In every star, in every tree.
I never thought we’d be apart,
But you still live within my heart.
Some days I break, some days I bend,
But each new dawn, I try to mend.
I miss you more than words can show,
Yet still, you’d smile and tell me so:
"Keep going, love, you’re doing fine—
Just carry me in heart and mind.”
And I have tried, and I still do,
To build a life that honors you.
You’d be so proud of who I’ve grown—
Your strength still echoes in my own.
So here’s to you, my sweetest song,
Though gone in flesh, in soul you’re strong.
Forever missed, forever seen—
My love, my life, my dear Darlene.
Scott W.
HAZARD ON THE STREET
She really shouldn’t drive
That old person hair so white
She doesn’t know what to do
Such a sad pathetic sight!
Car horns blow behind her
She hears a man rant and rave,
“You shouldn’t be out driving,
You’ve got one foot in the grave”
I see why she’s annoying
She seemed so dangerous too.
Wonder does she live alone,
Does she have a me or you?
Perhaps doesn’t have a choice
When to Doctor she must go.
Before you condemn old soul
Think of elderly you know.
Glance her way once again
Put yourself in her sad seat.
One day we too may become
An old Hazard on the Street!
Barbara Barry-Nishanian
March 2003. copyright
got work to do
feel like i have the flu
but got to go in anyway
cant find my keys
about to sneeze
at home i wish i could stay
the wind is frosty
just spilled my coffee
this is starting out to be a bad day
i cough and it hurts
defrost dont work
and why dont my radio play
man! i got a flat
and changing it hurt my back
but at least i can be on my way
and now the car wont crank
whew ! there's no gas in the tank
life is a funny game that we play
trying not to cuss
as i chase down the bus
when i ran into a kid with a sleigh
now i'm late for work
and everything hurts
but i have to act as if everthings ok
now im really tired
say what! im fired
and i cant even get hazzard pay
well those are the breaks
i gotta keep my faith
so all i can do now is pray
We're Bo and Luke Duke and we fight crime.
When criminals tangle with us, they do hard time.
Uncle Jesse gets his fat carcass stuck every time he gets in the General Lee.
When we tell him that he's getting too fat, he puts us over his knee.
It's really embarrassing when grown men get spanked.
Our asses are still stinging because of Jesse's hand and he sure doesn't get thanked.
We have to run from Enos, Rosco and Cletus.
Most people shoot at us when they meet us.
We're good ol' country boys, we do nothing unlawful.
But the fuzz keeps chasing us anyway, isn't that awful?
Whenever Luke and I get arrested, Uncle Jesse has to use the mortage payment for bail.
Maybe we're not such good crime fighters because we can't even send Boss Hogg to jail.
(This poem was inspired by The Dukes of Hazzard TV show.)