Long Heckles Poems
Long Heckles Poems. Below are the most popular long Heckles by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Heckles poems by poem length and keyword.
In a tossing and turning night, to wake up I forgot
Never slipping from a series of perpetual dream
A strange situation over and again, escape I could not
In the fabric of this woolgather, I couldn’t tear the seam
A speech in front of hundreds, I yearned to scream
Standing in my underwear, my shaking voice was caught
Closing my eyes tightly, trying to change the theme
In a tossing and turning night, to wake up I forgot
Skating across the ice, I wind up to take my shot
I miss the net completely, letting down the team
I’m stuck in a roar of booing heckles, an onslaught
Never slipping from a series of perpetual dream
Shut these lids again, restarting in a shallow stream
Running with aching legs amidst a forest, I am shot
A hunter hovers over me, to finish his prey I deem
A strange situation over and again, escape I could not
With the bang I take off again, sprinting on the spot
There is no ground below, I plummet from a height extreme
Anticipating the collision, pinching to change the plot
In the fabric of this woolgather, I couldn’t tear the seam
Is it over? Am I out of this self-induced figment regime
In a jolt and thud, I reach the cloth of bed that I’ve sought
A sigh of exhaustion and relief, I’m all out of steam
Bedding and pillows askew in the chaos that I brought
In a tossing and turning night.
June 6th, 2022
A RONDEAU REDOUBLE POEM Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
I am pretty certain
What you will find
With a sneaky cheeky peek
Behind the velvet curtain
See..one of a kind
Stand Up hierachy
For very few shekels
Sarky then snarky malarkey
Sworn scorn of merry heckles
But shorn of those hackles
Torn free from those shackles
The dawn of hee-hee cackles
If they're a chronic
Stand Up Comic
No one applauds
Dreads hordes of frauds
Who tread ironic boards
A skit to be a hit
Must pit your wit
Acerbic gambit
Caustic flit
Twit or git
Design a fine punchline
Yep..the funny bit
Scores on the doors
Gaping jaws and guffaws
Means more encores
If they don't shirk
Perk of their work
Can air a quirk
Share & make them smirk
With flair or devil maycare
The crowd revel...go beserk
Seriously sardonic
Scheming bitter of gin
Deliriously laconic
Big beaming grin
Gleaming glitter of tonic
Tears now are streaming
Girth of the mirth
Cheers from their peers
Just the ticket for the critic
What's it worth?
Priceless..to see an iconic
Yet down to earth
Stand Up Comic
On their home turf
Always pick it..
I've been released and free to roam.
You are so wrong, I'm not alone.
I'm glad you read, all that I write.
You mock my work, that's not real bright.
Not very original, your words they lack.
Once again, you're on my back.
Hypocrisy here at it's best.
Your game is weak, you surely jest.
I'm glad I inspire, you finally write.
Once a month, I'm sure gets tight.
Deliver the heckles and send the troll.
You leave a stench as you play your role.
You huff and you puff, trying to blow the house down.
The jokes on you, you're on hallowed ground.
I've been laughing and giggling the live long day.
Stroll back home, that's where you should stay.
Felix is dead
I have a tail, huge teeth
Which I only use for food
I love the pack leader
I walk with him each day
But I’ve heard a rumour
Someone new is coming to stay
I bite through toys and
My jaws rip them apart
I wouldn’t hurt fly unless
It hurt my heart, and doubt
Is now rising, because I am
Number one. I won’t give this up
My tail arcs like a scorpion
I swagger when I walk, but
I know a change is coming
A strange human and female
Biggest I’ve ever seen, holding
A cage and the smell is making me
Mean.
A face through the bars, make
My heckles rise, a meow cry
I snarl and stare in its eyes
Cats. The boss holds it, tells
Me to be calm, only because
He’s the leader, I don’t rip
It from his arms. My tail wags
At first I play gently, allow it a tap
I nudge it with my nose, but
The green envy rises when it
Sits on the leader’s lap, my lips curls
My tongue slathers, my eyes narrow
I sneer, wait til we’re all alone.
Everybody’s gone an empty house
It hisses and it arches as I circle
The cat can’t look away, or else
I will snap, I’ll never forgive the
Smugness sitting on my leaders lap.
I pounce and flatten, ten times its size
And as I close my jaws, I look in its eyes.
I scrape at the earth, until a hole is dug
And I pick its lifeless body from the rug
They’ll be sure it escaped, climbed
Over the fence and wait its return.
I’ll be a terribly subdued and stare
At the door. Again, I’ll be the favourite,
Pats on my head, they’ll never guess
Flex has demised, yes Felix is dead!
David Cox 20/05/22
As the rooster crows:
A look in the pool mirrored a perfect mop
At times of frizzy hair or defiant shaggy tresses
Ohhh the satisfaction at the sight
And yabba, dabba, doo!! echoed loud and clear
Triumphant male ego at its best!
A man’s crowning glory
Pulled, cut, brushed, curled, straightened, shaved
Lathered, gelled, creamed and pasted
Soaked in fragrant macassar oil
Invigorator, conditioning both groom and style.
Macho, gentle, sweet, daring tastes
Side-partings, medium, undercut and long
Sporting pony-tails, short back and sides
Elvis and James Dean quiffs curled kiss-me-quicks,
Punk, mohawk, flambouyant fringes
Highlights and lowlights, sprays and blow-dries!
All part and parcel of male vanity and crowning glory.
Heckles from the hen house:
As some men grow older they shed hair.
Each day they seek strands that were once there,
But skin patches widen --
Just check out Joe Biden.
Prepare to shut eyes in the bright glare.
A comb-over seems like a good plan,
But ladies don’t flock to a con man.
With 10 hairs remaining,
A “crown” they are feigning.
What happens when strands face a wind fan?
No reason for men to grow manic;
Moustaches and beards can work magic,
Diverting attention
Without the pretension
That balding is simply too tragic.
The “rug” method’s just too expensive,
Espec’ly when loss is extensive.
Like Telly Savalas,
The outcome’s not callous --
Few women find baldness offensive!
-----------------------------------------------
With special thanks to Carolyn Devonshire
with whom this fun write was written.
Today was going to be a good day,
Blue skies and I could feel the sun's ray,
For a split second life seemed just perfect,
And for a while living seemed worth it,
But the whispers were still whispering,
They're not stupid they know I was still listening,
Slowly the Demons drag my attention back to their Heckles,
Returning the dark fog to my head soon the light becomes mere speakles,
Today started off to be a good day,
Blue skies and I could feel the sun's ray,
But then my body woke and the pain struck like a stroke,
And the pull of my addiction awoke,
The blue skies suddenly became bleak and grey,
The suns warmth faded and I could no longer feel a single ray,
loneliness surrounded me as it began to consume me,
Allowing entry for all the negativity to begin mentally torturing me,
Today was supposed to be a good day,
Blue sky's and I could feel the sun's ray,
Maybe good days are just an idyllic illusion I can't find,
Memories I've kept locked in my mind,
But they no longer exist and I just need to come to terms with this,
Now I live this nightmare I'm trapped in the darkness of the Abyss,
Just me and my voice in my head a sorry state to be left,
The demons tormenting and torturing me to an early delightful death,
Today wasn't a good day because there's no good days left,
The skys have died and the sunrises are dead.