Long Hoo ha Poems
Long Hoo ha Poems. Below are the most popular long Hoo ha by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hoo ha poems by poem length and keyword.
I can look for caring love in your eyes,
You can pretend to hold onto thine YES,
And watch me do all tricks to your surprise...
If it worths a try off approaching mess.
I can unlock your heart and beat its pulse,
To stop for check on a new proposed take,
And bear a turn to signal mind's impulse...
If it makes out for WE not I's lone ache.
I can dance with you in the rain with joy,
You can worry about the weather's storm,
And wait till I calm what hoo-ha deploy...
If it gets to make your body so warm.
I can play with all your toys but not time,
You can be nice too; love is not a crime.
D'ya know what flips my flipper?
yup! you guessed, a bevy of beauties
hanging on to my body parts
uh, massaging my cheeks (oops, sorry)
uh, massaging my extension (oops, again)
look I'm trying... did I just hear you say
“yes, VERY trying”
just a normal male stud with
an overactive out-of-control masculine libido
we're all the same eh, and you thought
“no, this guy is more refined!!!”
ha! fooled ya... I'm just the same over-sexed
divine specimen of a male stud
that you've read about in that dime-store
novel you read while sitting on the throne
okay okay I see some wee ones present
what I meant to say,
“I'm just the same over-vexed
divine specimen who just needs a nudge”
(you know, like my hoo-ha, that is)
okay, my flipper is flopping again
hang on while I try to calm it down!
uh... my mind... have you seen it lately
it's around here somewhere!
oh my... what the hell am I trying to say!!!
oh, oh, they're here to take me back again!
Choosing which shade of white,
drives most people up the wall.
There's at least
152 shades of white
to choose from.
Despite being well: "Just White"
It's the subtle hue, blah blah,
hubris and hoo-ha,
that comes to the fore.
White can be darker, lighter,
cooler or warmer,
extra bright or dim,
so so cool, boring or subdued.
"Wind's Breath", "Extra White"
"Moonlight White at Night".
How can you choose?
It's the paints position, lighting, shade
and context that makes
the decision so complex.
Any color tinge, even within plain stark white
Can evoke a profound emotional reaction.
“Pristine” whites feel frigid cold, like ice.
Tiny tints of yellow, orange and red
feel "happy", “warm” or “sunny.”
Subtle slurps of green or blue
feel "natural" and "homely".
But, beware my friend,
Never ever choose:
"Off White" or
"Shades of Gray"
Heaven Forbid!
Plucky, we see the pond
With dervish eyes we bond
Dive in the great beyond
And ooh la la
He thinks she’s quite a dish
Handsome’s her one true wish
Into the sheets they swish
With great oompah
Like thrashing out of sea
Steamy fish feel so free
As who they’re meant to be
Waves wild hoopla
Of two young shades of gray
Whipped up, the seas obey
Oui! Oui! Risqué-parlez*
Midlife’s booya!
The calming of the deep
Married love never cheap
Embraced hearts fall asleep
After hoo-ha
3/15/2018
Mick Talbot’s Violette Poetry Contest
*What’s love without a little French ;)
Pronounced: wee wee risk-ay par-lay
Oui - Yes
Risqué - verging on impropriety or indecency (bedroom banter)
Parlez - Speak
Booya - urban dictionary: hell, yeah
Form:
We placed a pine box casket on a sawhorse table.
There weren’t but little notice, did as best we able.
I watched the flowers wilting in the heat of August.
It seemed a shameful squander given what they cost us.
She was a stoic widow, though a might diminished.
She clutched a carved wood angel, one he never finished.
Then came a stovepipe preacher, smelled of hair slick tonic.
He kept his manner formal and his speech laconic.
It was a simple service in a smoke wood setting,
Another taproot sermon I’d be soon forgetting.
He hammered nail to cross the way the Good Book reckon,
“All sinners need God’s mercy when The Judgment beckon.”
He spoke some other hoo-ha ‘bout “The Lord's forgiveness,”
And I just shucked it off to get about my business.
I might be pissin’ sawdust when it come to prayer,
But when they toss on vittles, count me first hoss there.
Way back before this baby boomer waz astute
countless decades before aye became long in the tooth,
and also prior tomb ma sporting dentures to boot
fond memories rush more than so far back
envisioning illusory wind blown steppes
(wait...this visage belongs to thine
long since deceased maternal grandfather
hub hill eave didst hail from Kiev,
or some place thereabouts) within the mind
of this prevaricating aging
"FAKE" barnstorming ole coot
preserved records (those times b'fore cds or dvds)
and now rewinds tape when family of origin
celebrated Xmas secular Harris
house style rendition of Magic Flute,
though genealogy steeped in Judaism
recollections abound of boyhood mirth
devoid of rubric asper orthodox and/or reformed
Judeo-Christian religion,
which essentially means,
I did not give or take a hoot
nonetheless cherish fond memories,
when ma late mum
relished making a hoo ha,
and got tickled and pickled pink
rousing a hullabaloo wrapping presents
and jamming three knee high stockings
with healthy goodies such as fruit
cuz, as a devotee of Carleton Fredericks,
she frowned on giving out sweets
particularly to three children she begat,
and iced hill easily recall her poker faced
feigning complete ignorance and surprise
sheep played “dumb” as did father
convincingly not giving a hoot
puzzled asper neatly wrapped and
stacked gifts under decorated tree
while distorted reflections of stockings
fractal shimmers from metallic gewgaws
in tandem of nostalgic magic
worth mo' than any amount of loot,
perhaps Christmas festivities a flash point,
when some jolly codger (papa)
dressed up, sans Santa Claus suit
and petsmart dogs doubled up as reindeer,
whose canine barking, cavorting, and dashing
haphazardly set them on a direct route
to pandemonium as crashing trimmed tree
cacophony elicited laughter, punctuated
with irrepressible escaped bursts of flatulence
(ah wont mention hoof from)
that emulated a toot.
Don't know about you but I love to sneeze
A good one will bring me down to my knees
Blasting my head right off of my neck
A feeling that makes me an absolute wreck
Shivering on down to my little ole toes
You certainly must know how that all goes
Feels so damn sexy I might hasten to add
A sensation that drives me totally mad
Sure rather sneeze than peel potatoes
Prefer sneezing to playing with Play-Doh
Nicer than poking a sharp stick in my eye
Not quite as painful as a dart in my thigh
Imagine your hoo-ha being caught in a vice
Can't be very pleasant, sure can't be nice
Wanna sneeze till I'm rolling on the floor
Gimme that feeling, want more, more, more
But don't tell my friends I beg of you please
Kinda embarrassed about loving to sneeze
© Jack Ellison 2012
As par and parcel of being
alive wire impossible aye
to maintain totally tubularly
literarily celibate by and bye
with parochial restraint antiseptic dry
as dust poetic refrains
asper this healthy older guy
devoid of physical whim zee
unlike a inscrutable eunuch...so hi
there dear reader experienced
by this self contrived Zen
minded nonestablishmentarian outlier,
whose nonconformist yen
tries to steer clear of controversy,
heresy, prurient wen
unless one happened
to be eunuchized,
i.e. sexless as a cold oven,
but similar to generic men
this writerly hen
pecked husband dully
drumming, droning, and
dribbling as a lix spittle
aged chap housed within
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania bailiwick
though far less inclined
to whet ma lil atrophied dipstick
than some young buck
at the peak of his sexual prowess
every now and again viz,
aye feel a much slighter sensation
drubbing, crackling, and
buckling mine body electric
and attempt to record
re: font ten blue type
boldface and/or Italic
such infrequently occurring
fleeting Johnson magic
speculating why the
hoo ha regarding mystic
spell binding codas,
dogmas, and enigmas,
an integral component naturalistic
within the calculus of life,
when human species
(parenthetically), naturally, inherently,
and biologically opportunistic
akin to other organisms whose quixotic
antics allow NON GMO,
MSG, and gluten free,
and uncensored discussion
asper reproductive habits rhapsodic
with floral and/or faunal symphonic
emanations donning each their own
"NON FAKE" trumpeting
spectacular humbly modest
rubric, yet...universalistic
as being linkedin
within the cosmic whirled wide web.
The wine & I
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
Hoo-ha !! cheers
The wine and I tonight
A racket we will clamor
Talk is cheap .. hic
WINE:
“I am Chardonay
Was once a fruit on a vine
Now I am a dry white”
ME:
“I thought you were
Risling or maybe Pinotage
Sorry are we in the month of May
Hic .. or is this my third glass”.
WINE:
“Your third bottle now
I'm running on empty
I‘m better with turkey
So I am wanted”
ME:
“Who you calling turkey !
I'll have you smoked
Bloody nerve you (s)wine !”
WINE:
“oh you talk ..
Then try me with salmon”
ME
“someone going where ?”
WINE:
“not what I said”
ME:
“what now ..?”
WINE
“i am i said
the barman’s finest
Best with fish”
ME:
“wish for ?”
WINE
“Oh dear …
Waited on a rack
So long…
And now
I get you “
ME:
“ hic ..
Mind your own...
Business comma hic”
WINE:
“ I am the barman’s finest”
ME:
“how dare you call me
the crow’s nest”
hic