Long Hippy Poems

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


A Precious Gift

A little girl came wandering out
She was dressed up to the nines
Like a mung bean munching hippy
But her father claimed she was divine.

She glowed and preened, with a smile of joy
In her clothes of different hues
With a little gleam of confidence
Dealt from Dads’ loves expressive views.

There’s many people living now
That have seen or been that child
New endeavours can bring infancy
Given growth when someone’s smiled.

Encouragement is a precious gift
Helping recipients conquer fear
Motivation aids improvement
Because purpose lives when someone cares.

Remember hugs don’t always come from arms
Warm words they can embrace
Our choice is that we use them right
There’s reward from a fabulous smiling face.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

Sonny orchestrated; Cher was his doll.
Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves, was their nightly drawl.
We’d preach a little gospel to save them all.
Townspeople were afraid of us, even Baby Paul.

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves, was their nightly drawl.
They were treacherously mean with their call.
Townspeople were afraid of us, even Baby Paul.
But the men would sneak, see us, big and tall.

And lay their money down, and have a ball.  
Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves was their nightly drawl.
We picked up a handsome man in Mobile, ya’all.
Townspeople were afraid of us, even Baby Paul.

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves was their nightly drawl.
We picked up a handsome man in Mobile, ya’all.
Townspeople were afraid of us, even Baby Paul.
Papa would learn about this romance, in the Fall.

He was tall, handsome, but left me after all.
We picked up a handsome man in Mobile, ya’all.
Papa would learn about this romance, in the Fall.
Sonny orchestrated; Cher was his doll.

Written May 1, 2018
fun
Form: Pantoum

Shame!

Hippy Drug Dealer, my anger’s on fire,  
Did you think I’d stand by 
While you stoked that pyre?  
That lazy grin and Pot smoke lies,  
Took her heart and left mine to die.  

Chuckle Head Chad from Lawton low,  
Did you think I didn’t see your little show?  
I see your face, do you see my pain,  
Now for the rest of you Eskimo brothers, 
You all share his shame.  
  
Is there anyone in Chick-ah-shay who’s clean?  
Who hasn’t crossed the line, 
And tore apart my dreams,  
Every whispered secret, every fragile night,  
You’re in my shadow, hiding from the light.  
  
Tire Changer nods, like it’s some cruel game,  
Each confession cuts deeper, fanning the flames,
Homeless Man, Ah... once? Only once you say?  
Just for a moment; like phucking a mangy stray?  
 
Tommy the Methhead — keep your story tight,  
You didn’t sleep? Was it standing upright?  
In the street, on a park bench, easy to pretend,  
But every day I see you, will it ever end?  

I’m rising like a storm, brewing up a rage,  
Played her like you were all on **** Hub’s stage,  
I’ll track you down, every single last one of you
Crossing the line, how much lower must I mine?
  
Is there anyone in Chick-ah-shay who’s clean?  
You all crossed a line, destroyed all my dreams,  
Every whispered secret, every fragile night,  
You all hid in shadows, hiding from the light.  
  
Now I stalk the streets, fueled by pain,  
Turning over rocks, every name a stain,  
Fire of my rage is burning through,  
In this town of shame, I’ll get around to you.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Rich and Famous

They think, like dolphins or elephants they're so smart,
And like goats they behave rather intelligent;
They think by riches they can get everything bought,
Even the rarest of rare gems of great elegance...

I had once, by error, conceived such a concept,
Started wielding, like kings, the scepter of power;
Over the rules and laws, I could get my conquest,
Even on the state treasury, I could tower...

I walked, talked, smiled, laughed, and as a kangaroo leaped
Ate, drank, made merry, and often celebrated;
Though around my mansions the poor like large rags heaped,
I went as though nothing to be cogitated...

It's then when once like the sun I peeped within me,
I could find vacuums with darkness flirting in;
I eat but feel no strength; my laugh has no true glee,
Like the dark clouds, glooms, within me, have made their inn... 

The poor, needy, homeless - all I see so happy,
Like birds of the air and fish of the sea they flow;
It's hence I ask me like a prodigal hippy,
Losing my simplicity how far shall I go?


01 July 2021
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member BACK ROAD MAN

(verse 1)
I have really long hair,
don't understand why people stare.
I'm looked down upon by society,
they try to destroy my dignity.
The people call me lazy and low class,
'cause my mop is almost to my ass.
They call me a hippy refugee,
and try to discredit my capability.

(chorus)
I drive a beat-up old car.
I'm your back road man!
I live at the local bar.
I'm the back road man!

(verse 2)
My vehicle didn't pass emissions,
now I can't get tabs.
My car no longer has insurance,
now I'm chasing taxi cabs.
So, I borrowed plates from a regal,
that belonged to my ex-honey.
Now my mopar looks street legal,
what a way to save money.

(chorus)
I smoke hand rolled cigars.
I'm your back road man!
I drink beer from jars.
I'm the back road man.

Lyricists Inc. 
D.A.P. / Digital Analog Productions. 
Written: 1-27-1995 David A.Porter
©? 01-24-2023
Form: Lyric


WTF



A curse that’s worse than the pandemic

Greedier populist verse became totemic

No halt of their catapult assault systemic

Seedier social media game now endemic


Whether it be some chanting panting cleric

Will ration all compassion not really angelic

Always decanting another ranting hysteric

Doubts planting the enchanting evangelic


Oligarchy malarkey their tarnished polemic

Climate fires rage but won’t call the medic

Derails with varnished tales any academic

Preening demeaning all left leaning satiric 


Dystopian & myopian totally Machiavellic

We burn they’re still lippy well it’s generic

With their heinous intravenous hypodermic


Even if taciturn with boring name like Derek

Yearn for return of hippy trippy psychedelic

Not dippy all learn nature can be mesmeric

Don’t spurn love soars above stratospheric
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member Alphabet Of Symbolic People

Angelic, Axial, Animalistic, Anonymous 
Balanced, Bullish, Brave, Boorish
Caring, Cynical, Charismatic, Contradicting 
Daring, Doodling, Detached, Deep
Eccentric, Excavator, Engaged, Exorcising 
Fatherly,  Frantic, Fiendish, Faithful
Gamer, Gothic,  Gibberish,  Gentle
Heretic, Hippy, Horizontal, Hermit
Inspirational, Inquisitive, Impulsive, Interpreter
Jolly, Just, Jumper, Jack in the Beanstalk
Kindling, Kudosocial, Kinky, Karate zen
Loving, Lexical, Lavish, Lunar
Mysterious, Motherly, Musical, Mnemonic
Nurturing, Nibbling, Natural, Neanderthal 
Outgoing, Outsider, Onlooker, Orthopaedic 
Pious, Pepperish, Plastered, Porcelain
Quiet, Quixotic, Quester, Quicky
Repairman, Rider, Realistic, Remnant
Sweet, Sour, Single, Stamped
Truthful, Thinker, Tinker, Tumbler 
Undecided, Untitled, Universal, Unknown 
Vertical, Virgin, Vandal, Varsitarian 
Whimsical, Waiter, Worldly, Wordy
Xenophobic, X-men, Xylophonic, X-rated
Yuppy, Yummy, Y era, Yoyo
Zany, Zealous, Zippy, Zapped

Bourdain Coffee is not a culture disdain


Mister Bourdain clearly in abject pain

The cook feeling crook can't refrain

Asked about same subject did complain

Coffee's not a culture he does explain

Why do they sustain their campaign

His bane such nonsense won't wane

Not like the throng along the Seine

Nor the glitz of Biarritz or arcane Spain

We know a barista may have to train

Wittily says in Italy have made it plain

Breakfast frothy coffee then not again 

The agony of Anthony fuels his disdain

Slicker chair made from wicker & cane

Hysteria like wisteria on a trendy lane

Specs and pecs those necks will crane

Feline design plastic surgery is insane 

Their ilk less coffee more milk will contain

Let's end yuppie caffeine bean reign

The vastly ghastly inane finally slain

Shallow callow stain down the drain

Forget arty farty latte said Bourdain 

He did maintain to party & entertain

Not trippy dippy hippy Lion's mane 

Go loco coca not cocoa yep cocaine
Form: Monorhyme

Eid Mubarak

In these colors, do you see red out there? 
And in red, do you need strength? 
Are you someone needed to be mightier? 
 
In these colors, do you feel green somewhere in? 
Do you believe in warmth, grass-root progression? 
Or, one day closer in, to fade in within the horizon? 
 
In these colors, will you ever prefer brown? 
Skin-colored divine codes, still arrogant in denial? 
The huge Carpe-Diem, calling you and me, to chime in. 
 
In these colors, will you ever supplicate for the gray one? 
White and black, black and white, color mixing hippy lives... 
An utter failure or, an anonymously gray one. 
 
In these colors, do you see a color, for you and me, and a moon? 
The cosmic terrain, crawling in into laughter, festoon and religious boons? 
Reaching for your hands there, farther down to start within. 
 
Eid Mubarak

Cupid Sets Hearts On Fire

Every February fourteenth,
(reference Gregorian Calendar see
High Middle Ages his Saints' Day)
which combs thee
day after morrow aye decree

Tweedledum and Tweedledee
mine near one and same
mean mein near best buddy
donning Harris tweed plus sundry
other manifold couture to express free

expression like... once upon time
innocently naive barenaked lady
Chatterley young hippy feeling groovy,
albeit (think psychedelic) swiftly tailored

Harry styled vested gentry
twills nonetheless seam, née
upon aforesaid occasion intoxicated spree
formerly honored when animalistic glee

burst asunder courtesy biological key
hormones thawing lovely frozen bones
buzzfeeding, delivering, exuding earthy
primal propensities originally
linkedin with Lupercalia

nonetheless, encompassing various
animalistic, erotic, narcissistic... needs ye
not not necessarily be apprised,
where altruistic festive folk would easily agree

to hunker down no matter
sheepishness prevalent within
wooled wide web re:
guarding Islanders at their homes
Islands named total more'n three

amidst Lewis, Harris, Uist, Barra
and several pertinences, all fertile
like lasses christened Galilee,
yet all known as Outer Hebrides.

Now really as one ewe man
misanthrope to another I advise
Cupid doth surprize
god of desire, erotic love,
hoop fully experienced
before permanent demise,
where mortals whisked no matter

sullen sensate (human and/or other) being
vainly, morosely, and futilely cries
passion play his trademark guise
plus tell tale sign tear streaming eyes
(think head over heels
lovestruck gals and guys)

willingly yoking, where
(of quartz) romancing stone 
temple pilot paunches face
(case toward albeit point yours truly) applies

young and old paramours recognize
steeped within storied mythologize
as one after another arrow
(whipped out quiver) guise

nocked, molded then loosed
courtesy once taut than slack bowstring
bedazzles lovers with stars
glistening in their lovestruck blind eyes
any unspoken inapropos prurience,
I eagerly, honestly, and readily, apologize.

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