Long Hock Poems
Long Hock Poems. Below are the most popular long Hock by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hock poems by poem length and keyword.
WHAT I’M VISUALIZING
Hock what ever have to get here
A place where bodies never ache
folks aging brittle bones and hips
never bother them never break.
Moments of pure sanity stays
and forgetfulness disappears.
On blanket under navy skies
creepy crawlers raise no fears.
Fields of possibility blossom
Confidence is no longer lost
Opportunity presents itself
You allow God to be your boss.
For moment let me continue
allow imagination to fly
death and dyings been destroyed
sorrows are past …no reason cry!
No violence or hate in this place
the meek have so much more to do.
Hope you will be looking for me
you better believe searching for you.
Imagine evil one Satan
and rebellious humans gone,
tormenting wicked spirits too
adios, farewell, bye and so long!
Imagine ocean waves whispering
as rushes in to kiss the earth,
for mankind God created this!
Million years before Adams birth!
This more than imagination.
Where goodbyes are not forever.
The Earth I’ve been visualizing
Has God made a planet better?
Barbara Barry-Nishanian
Feb 26, 2018
>
I ain't surprised by anything I hear on the news nowadays!
The way the gov'mint is bein' run just leaves me in a daze!
This mornin' I heard another of Obama's schemes has gone sour!
Seems that this lulu will add more to China's balance of power!
His stim-scheme gave millions to the A123 Systems Company in Michigan,
To make batteries for hybrid autos - his much-touted transportation plan!
He boasted to workers that this would fuel the economy for years to come,
Yet, it seems the place has gone south and its operations will succumb!
'Tis well-known that we are in hock to the Chinese for a ton of bucks,
And here is the irony of the sorry scheme and a most important crux;
China is buying the place with our money - the whole kit and caboodle!
American taxpayers are left holding the bag - not worth a Chinese noodle!
You won't find this story on MSNBC, CNN or CBS - only on Fox News!
Other media will support Barak no matter what, spewing their biased views!
Hey! That's our hard-earned tax money you're blowin' Barak Hussein!
Are you gonna cut your wasteful spendin'? We're waitin' for you to explain!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
STRONG BURSA
COMPLINED ABOUT
THE PRICE OF
BEEF CHILLI
VERSES
PORK CHILLI
AND RELISH.
IF ONE IS TWO FOR SUM-THANG?
AND THE OTHER IS HALF THE PRICE OF BOTH.
IS THE OTHER TWO FOR WHATEVER THEN?
CAUSE I WOULD HAVE
ENOUGH TO GET THE
SPICY HOT NUTS
AND THE FOUR DOGS THE BROCHURE PROMISED.
BAD NOUGH THOSE PUNKS WANT US TO BY ALL THE TICKETS TO GET IN.
BAD ENOUGH WE NEED THE DISK-COUNT VOUCHURE
BUY THE SODAS, MAN DEEZ SUM BADTHYMES WFOR FOOD AND STUFF.
WE SHOULD HAVE GOT, GAMBLES DRUNK, AND GOT HER TO FIX THOSE
TURKEY LEGS AND TATY-SALLY.
WE WOULD'VE SAVED AT LEAST $20.00 DOLLARS.
SHE SAID ALL SHE NEEDED WAS THEM FRESH HOCK MEDALLIONS FROM GISTER GRAB, AND SOME GINGEROOT GARLIC AND BEER, AND WE'D HAVE SUPPER REAL CHEAP.
Have you ever wondered what’s kept in a real blokes shed?
I bet you thought them full of junk, but I’m telling you instead.
I’ve had the privilege to peruse such a shed one night,
It’s owned by mate Kenny, who opened up my eyes.
There was carpet on the floor, compressors by the door,
Nuts and bolts, fishing rods, and Fosters cans galore.
And if you wanted any oil, like sewing, sump, or mower,
Just look around - you’ll find it stored; an ice-cream tub’s the goer.
A pair of boots a little tight, he’ll fix for future toil,
As Kenny’s way to make them fit is dip the toes in oil.
And when I asked, ‘What’s that you have hidden under wraps?’
‘A photocopy machine’ he said, ‘and next I need a fax.’
Oh, what delights this shed had brought, all useful stuff in here,
There are even shiny rolls of foil that hold your cans of beer.
I looked around and then I spied a cot upon the wall
In storage now, he will pass it on to eldest son named Paul.
On the shelf, a yellow cage for a bird he may pick up,
But have no fear Jeanette my dear, the feathered kinds enough.
Next to the cage a machine to sew, a little worse for wear
But Ken still keeps it, just in case his overalls might tear.
Equipment plus and flashing stuff in draws quite neatly stored,
And tucked away a paper too, in case your ever bored.
Although its news has come and gone of what, why, when, and how,
This edition’s old and rare, a collector’s item now.
However, in this shed don’t smoke, no ashtray can be found
It’s tucked away, so if you must just butt upon the ground.
And for those dark and dismal days a torch you may require,
Ken has several he would lend if ever you enquire.
When talking old but useful parts, yes most still have a spare
In case of breakdowns of the first - of course that would be rare.
Ken’s shed has lots of shi….ny gear, some new, quite fit to hock
But parting with equipment here, for Ken would bring on shock.
So, hear now, folks, and listen well - a real blokes shed has all,
Its contents stored on bench and floor and even up the wall.
And if you ever need a bit of this or even that,
Go to a real blokes shed you’ll find every piece of crap.
A horse that runs wild and free
Enjoys freedom with each stride
No saddle on his withers be
No grazing muzzle as a guide
No headpiece on his poll abides
His fetlock and his coronet feel the tickle of the grass
As his forelock ruffles in the breeze
No horseshoe on his hoof amass
With the wind he trots with ease
His gaskin flexes to run at his decree
His frog feels the soft earth as he stands
his coat feels the soothing rain
Unbridled by the bit's demand
His neighs echo through the plains
Upon these green fields, he reigns
His stifle and his hock aches once in awhile
But a good gallop 'neath the dome
of sky, brings him back in form and style
No crupper on his croup as he roams
For this horse calls freedom home.
~~~
10/4/16
*The crupper is the strap that runs from the horse's dock, over the croup, to the saddle.
Written: November 07, 2023
____________________________________________
Am I condoning a state of affluence?
In recent desultory decadence
Have I drawn a swan dive of choice?
Don't you hear your mom clamoring?
Don't you grasp her voice?
Backward between and beyond riverstone?
Holler—herald hidden phylum, hunt voice
of failed fulfillments
The hind hock hoof is hermitic.
With any accismus to anthropomorphize beasts
Winter wolf moon wakes up her litter
for sustenance, the man in me would slaughter
the wolf.
Tracks—that permeate darkness
their compulsory murder. Everyone needs
a meal
drifted and whistled from hair to heel,
things outside seem odd, ghostly, surreal.
Amid snow—hooves slowed to soak in
across the waves—why my soul seeped
a sailor has been seen dozing off
whilst the riverside weeps
trust—my footprints feature
fear—cynicism.
I reckon that one of life's least enthrallin' thrills,
Is facin' the seemin'ly insurmountable mound of bills,
Hopin' in the shrinkin' checkin' account there's enough,
To skirt financial scandal and pay for all that stuff!
I reviewed the 'lectric bill and received a painful shock!
They raised the rates again, shovin' me deeper in hock!
Those scoundrels raised the cost of gas thirty-one percent.
Woe is me! That'll cause some serious fiscal dent!
'Tis hard to decipher extortionate phone bills to say the least.
They've added more universal charges to that infernal beast!
The cost of cable is risin', which is outrageous to begin with.
Deregulation! Humbug! 'Tis just another government myth!
You can depend on it! Each December they raise water rates again.
'Tis our only source, so there ain't no use to complain.
I hold in hand a couple of bills that really make me grouse.
Seems there's clandestine shoppin' on QVC by my spouse!
More good news arrived today makin' me more irate.
Insurance rates are risin' on my auto and real estate!
There's a perplexin' problem I have noticed as of late:
My income ain't keepin' up with the risin' inflation rate!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
My life seems to last forever now that I’ve start aging
The sudden onset aches and pains start engaging
My home is in a theme park petting zoo where other animals live and rest
Each day zoo attendants feed, water, and groom us to look our best for our guests
These little creatures called Children come into the petting zoo
With the sounds of ooohs, aaahs of surprise as they walk through
Sheep, goats, rabbits, to feed and interact physically with safety
Some of these little creatures try to chase me, some of us get shaky
A tall creature with a long mane and forelock yells, “Wait a minute baby!”
Is this tall creature going to save me?
A young pony, a true friend is 7 hands at the wither not as tall as me
Wearing a blanket and saddle for a rider to sit, and bridle to guide in safety
Zoo attendants teach the proper ways to handle animals
while brushing my forelock, poll, croup, and withers
They lift my gaskin the area behind my leg between the stifle and hock pointing to my fetlock explaining that is actually more like the ball of the foot on a human
Naming my coronet where it meets my hoof down to my frog; a highly elastic wedge-shaped mass on the underside of the hoof and supports both locomotion and circulation
When all is done the attendant extending a hand placing a treat close to my muzzle treating us with love and kindness, as we bubble full of admiration
10/20/2016
Horses - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton
use the following words
Muzzle, forelock, fetlock, hock, withers, stifle, poll, croup, gaskin, frog, hoof and coronet.
Being Sold Down the River?
Near 80 years ago it has been
Another Jerk wanted to make his country great again
America first has been used before
It was a commie ploy to keep the U.S. out of the War
Over 6 million Jews were gassed or shot
Who’s going to end up in his burial plot?
Both started out with the same trend
Replace everyone with family and friend
They will do and say anything for power
This one wants to rule from his Ivory Tower
Don’t worry about fighting with the NRA
He will make sure there’s nothing to take away
We are being sold out by being in his trance
Wakeup or learn that funny little Russian dance
Take your money and buy Vodka stock
That way you might not be in hock
Learn to speak Russian and don’t fail
For I hear its cold in a Siberian jail
Keep your mouth shut and speak not
If you speak out, you could be shot
Elections will be no more
It doesn’t matter who you vote for.
2/28/2018
By: Sonny Roper a retired U.S. Navy military veteran
and moi (me)
The Anatomy of a Horse (written for children)
Horse's feet have a hoof, the hard part which he can pound,
back of this is his frog, bottom part that stays off the ground.
Between his hoof and his leg is a coronet, not like a crown
it blends into the pastern the start of his leg, now don’t frown.
Next is his fetlock, sort of an ankle, not a real lock.
Horse's rear ankle turns backwards and that it is called his hock.
His fetlock has a callous called an ergot, can you see?
Then comes his harmless cannon, just below his hock or knee.
On the front leg, it's a knee between forearm and cannon
His hind leg has a hock which joins gaskin to his cannon.
His elbow in the front and his stifle in the back, no fibs,
connect his upper legs to his barrel which is our horse's ribs.
Topside of the barrel, where a rider sits, twixt tail and head,
highest part of horse's rump is called a croup instead.
The dock is the soft part from which grows his tail, what the heck;
above his high shoulders are withers, right beneath his neck.
Behind his ears is a part called his poll, close to his brain?
From his poll, hair makes a forelock, back down his neck, a mane.
We’ve finally reached his head and the last part, called his muzzle,
his jaw, his nose and mouth. A horse can be quite a puzzle.
written October 28, 2016 for Shadow's contest, Horses