Long Hop skip Poems
Long Hop skip Poems. Below are the most popular long Hop skip by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hop skip poems by poem length and keyword.
Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
POETIC LYRICS BY THOMAS LAM HSI-ANDRESS
(Earlier Titled "I Thought That She Was Just Another Super
Lily White) [P.S., PAST TENANT 'ROOMATES' and NON-FRIENDS...
HAVE BROKEN INTO AND STOLEN MY SONG-LYRICS...AND POSTED
AS 'THEIR' INTELLECTUAL PROPERTIES!]
[ELLIE GOULDING, "HALCYON," Track No. 11]
I......I NEVER...NEVER-EVER...EVEN-THOUGHT-OR-IMAGINED...
A-SADDER/GIRL-OR-STORY!
LILY-WHITE!
LILY!
I......I NEVER...NEVER-EVER...EVEN-THOUGHT-OR-IMAGINED...
A-SADDER/GIRL-OR-STORY!
LILY-WHITE!
LILY!
DEEPER...AND-TOO...DEEP-DEEP/BLUE!
DEEPER...AND-TOO...DEEP-DEEP/BLUE!
EYES......BEYOND...THE-BLUE-AZURE/OF-THE/SKY!
EYES......THAT-WERE/FROM-BEYOND-THE/AZURE-OF-THE/SKY!
EYES......THAT-WERE/FROM-BEYOND-THE/AZURE-OF-THE/SKY!
AND-SHE/FLIES!
AND-SHE/FLIES!
A......LILY-WHITE...THAT-FLIES!
A......LILY-WHITE...THAT-FLIES!
SHE/FLIES!
SHE/FLIES!
THROUGH......THE-PITCHED/BLACKNESS-OF-THE/ROYAL-BLUE/NIGHT!
RIGHT-THROUGH......THE-PITCHED/BLACKNESS-OF-THE/ROYAL-BLUE/NIGHT!
TORE-AND/TORN...STRAIGHT-THROUGH......A-FLESHLY/HUMAN-HEART......
MINE!
AND-SHE-WAS.........TORE-AND/TORN.........STRAIGHT-THROUGH......
A-FLESHLY......HUMAN-HEART...MINE!
[ELLIE GOULDING, "HALCYON," Track No. 7]
YOU...ARE...BEAUTIFUL.........NO.........REALLY!
THANK...YOU!
YOU...ARE...BEAUTIFUL.........NO.........REALLY!
THANK...YOU!
YOU..........ARE.....................
I......SAID......THANK YOU! OKAY? THANK YOU!!! [VERY POWERFUL EMPHASIS]
BUT.........BUT.........HOW?
WHY............DID YOU............SEE SOMETHING?
BUT...............I.........THOUGHT.........THAT YOU WERE JUST.........PERRY WHITE'S
NIECE?
HOW?
WHY.........DID YOU SEE SOMETHING?
I............I HAVE NEVER EVER READ, SEEN, OR HEARD......OF SOMEONE OR...
SOMETHING SADDER!
I HAVE NEVER EVER READ, SEEN, OR HEARD......OF SOMEONE OR SOMETHING...
SADDER!
AND YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL...
AND YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL...TO ME!
AND YOU FLY! FLY AWAY..........TO THE STARS!
AND YOU FLY! FLY AWAY...AND DANCE......AND-HOP-SKIP-SNAD-DANCE...
AMONGST-THE-STARS/AND FROM..........CON-STE-LA-TION......TO......
CON-STE-LA-TION!
TAKE-ME!
TAKE-ME!
NO!
NO!
A.........ROYAL SUPER.........NEVER-EVER/DIES!
A.........ROYAL SUPER NEVER EVER DIES!
FINI
Every morning at a quarter to six, I can hear my he him trotting down the hallway to the bed where I lay, shriveled up under my weighted blanket, so fat and un-tall.
There’s a part of me that should feel sorry for my little Cowboy husband Joe, but the other part is as angry as Sophie Dog, who snarls and snaps when she hears him in the hall.
“Time to get up!” he says in a sing-songy way, being a nice guy, who truly, only ever wanted to be a child, outside, who could laugh and play like a kid with honey bun food.
“Son of a mule’s *******,” I say, in the kindest cowboy-kind of way, knowing he’s going to feed Shark next, and he’d better tip toe as I am in that kind of I-HATE-EVERYBODY-KIND-of-Mood.
Big Joe.
Big Joe.
Big Bad Joe.
“I saw that the baby opossum on the porch was out of food again, so I banged on the window, and he ran off with that little hop-skip he has,” Joe babbles on. “After he left, I took some cat food out. He’s eating it now.” Joe is wearing his best hat, and boots, but I don’t give them no mind.
Son of a horse’s behind, does he always have to yap like a coy dog? I think as I try to get a growling Sophie dog’s butt off of the covers I’m trying to put back over my head, so I can have some peace and QUIET; “Get OUT OF HERE!” I yell, I’m 11 minutes behind!”
Big Joe.
Big Joe.
Big Bad Joe.
Sophie and I get woked up three more times by him, and we chase him out each time, baring our teeth. It reminds me of my early days with my mother who used to be just this damned happy and annoying in the morning. She used to give us pancake rolls. Which means she used to jump on our bed and roll on us making us extra angry before we left for school.
The last time, the final time, the I mean it this time, he brings me my usual Chuck Wagon Caren is hungry as a giant Stegosaurus on speed breakfast. Five pounds of hash-browns, a three egg omelet with bacon, and it damn well better be the exact temp I like, he has learned the hard way Sophie and I are
Very particular about the temp of our bacon. He takes off his 10 gallon hat, sitting it on the bed, and says “anything else, my ladies?” Before we can speak, he magically produces my jalapeno peppers which we dump lavishly over our hash-browns. Yes, he is the perfect cowboy for this fool.
Big Joe.
Big Joe.
Big Bad Joe.
THE NARROW SQUEAK SHOW CHAPTER 2
So now,here I am
Wham!
That was a close shave!
Whew!
No way to behave!
Damn tanks!
I am all alone
Is this a war zone?
I have my lucky charm...........
I will not come to any harm
The bullet that dropped at my feet
Death?
We can never meet!
Now, I am thinking
The ship sinking
Me, drinking
What a week!
Absolutely stinking!
Still, I am here
Editing The Narrow Squeak files
I have no fear
I have a bullet charm
So I will come to no harm........
says I,dropping a donation to St Giles!
Now, I am thinking
It has kept me awake
That damn earthquake!
Spoiled my train of thought
(Not the train,did I fall or was I pushed?)
That was close
I was nearly caught!
Hey ho!
These strange events........
Really make me tense
But one must overcome
The shattering blow
That leaves you numb
I was walking.........
Just the other day
I have given up public transport
It doesnt pay!
I tripped and nearly fell
The gap in the pavement,miles wide
but with a hop ,skip and jump
I made it to the otherside,
with scarcely a bump
Whew!
What a week!
I havent found
What I am supposed to seek
May be it is underground?
Better take a peek!
I returned to the canyon in the pavement
Fought back the urge to jump
I climbed down instead
What a dump!
I didn't at all feel any dread
I clutched my narrow squeak book
I daren't look
All this rubble!
Could I be in trouble?
Now, I am thinking.............
What if I am better off dead?
Well ,I am deep underground
The foul air keeps me coughing
The canyon in the pavement.............
My final coffin?
What goes down.....
Must come up
I justify this,
as the boiling lava
gives an evil hiss!
I start to climb quite fast..........
chapter two..........
Looking to be my last!
I have my bullet charm
Damn!
The name only has one "T"
I have two!
This feels me with alarm!
The lava is quite hot now........
What do I do now?
My bullet charm...........
is now flawed
How the temperature soared
I made it to the top
The lava narrowly missed me!
Not one drop!
I can complete chapter three!
I, (and the missus)
pleased as punch residing
at this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania locale,
(since july first tooth house
sand eighteen), marks one year
and better with (on site
service) wash and wear,
but most irrefutable attraction
comprises rental assistance,
when upon the merry month of May
first, the dollar figure outlay
to occupy a single bedroom
(at this low cost
housing facility) didst veer
dramatically downward
from an initial charge,
sans five hundred, and seventy two unswear
able legal tenderloin monies,
per twelfth of Gregorian Calendar,
when aye didst tear
away the page signaling June,
thine checking account reduced sheer
lee no misprint (to win unbelievably
rosy, piddly, and giddy)
one hundred and seventy
seven buck a roos,
yet lesser benefits appended, asper
this bucolic, diatonic,
and harmonic rear
opportunity to espy
white tailed non *****
yule less doe ting mama
belonging to Cervidae family app pear
ring to take shelter in a narrow
(sunset) strip somewhat near
enough from mine
inside perch oblivious
to this mad capped (Alfred E. Neuman),
who whiz stumping for elections midyear
essentially to reinstate
"FAKE" King Crimson Lear
on the throne,
who strongly objects to killdeer
for eats or sport,
and silences those hood jeer
his reverence toward gentle creatures
including near extinct albino blushing zebra,
hooves warp and weave interlinear
within said (postage size
token) plot here ~ 1+ hectare
secluded upon a tract
off the beaten commercial
domain and glare
with suburban sprawl,
a hop, skip and jump fair
lee quickly disappearing
"in the name of progress"
though vanishing wild
life eyes find endear
ring, though thine psyche
wracked with despair
no matter ample (spacious
free) parking, a clear
bonus as well un
limited water usage
and to top off the list donated
up for grabs non-sellable (stales) breads,
cakes, fruits, vegetables
about twice a week doth appear.
HOW CAN I PRETEND ?
PART 2
Pretence is for those who
round a corner with I did
read that book, she smiles
with her eyes, then escape
to humour minds or waves
agonising over shame
or secrecy or stealth
calculating cunning
strategies for recognition
such nouns or adjectives
are human language
defining egoic grids
instead I marry
transparency with an
undisputed path of trauma
truth leaving pretence to
collect lipstick, mascara
house-frames whilst I
hop skip my naked soul
Neither thunderstorms
dragons, poverty, fungus
will scare this soul
basking in authenticity
whose fireflies danced
at a polished staircase
foyer warning of faded
fragments, smashed
Cinderella shoes
No pretending about
tiptoeing across shattered
glass witnessing that
even a Coelacanth
would not swim towards
a cubic zirconia cloned
as diamond landing
on ocean floor in a
Seapoint walk clothed
in bitter tears
I’m too smart for
pretence !
How can I pretend having
Rebirthed through a Heart
leaving ego standing naked
at Lions Gate or some other
portal I do not yet perceive
ready to take instruction
as previously I did from
my Maker with a Yes !
I will !
Anything You say
as You bliss me out
slash me with pointed
Flames clearing this
muck down my legs
I acceded to navigate
What do they know about
tearing torture to wear
my colours as owl crown
No torture at all !
but a willingness to
submit to conscious
suffering like bee to
pollen whispering
Come here, my Love
knowing how to bind
honey anyway but loose
My mottled magical
mystical Mary make
muffins in her median
muscles whilst meditating
dare not pretend that
laundry becoming dung
heaps, rust festering
around auto-immune
vibrations do not
matter as threadbare
tyres tell their lies
looping lice
Pretence lies coffined
Cold
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&
Song2024
(alternately titled: whipping and pommel ling
das soar addle brain)
My most recent deuce score
plus three bajillion ban
an nah ram ma orbitz
squared bob sponge pants
day of birth passed uneventfully –
(round el sol) saw me dan
sing around one average star, which Evan
chilly wool worth hilly exhibit
death throe tulle pan
dum mo' knee yum -
becoming a black hole sun,
when photon illumination
totally tubularly blinks
out more'n Knots Lan
ding all countries
with exception of Japan
(if only for explicit purpose
of this poem) can
did lee stated fan
silly free and foot loose
to appease the ghost of Ivan
the Terrible, who would
phish she shuss lee
never fin hush his
rage against the machine
foaming at the mouth
asper gar non sequitur
spoiler alert hint
aye made debut 13th of Jan)
and now for no rhyme,
nor reason mention
nothing (by the way)
written thus far tan
gent shill to the square
of hide bound
Halliburton Hippopotamus,
whose first name
Horton doth move in clan
destine fashion, oh...and nope
definitely not related
to ancestors of Kublai Khan
whose nickname Lloyd
though, whoa, wow,
and yikes quite a time span
'tween that Mongol
consigning, conning, and condemning
“FAKE” deplorable trump
ping app Paul
ling Peters to Azkaban
nonetheless, aye never aver
witnessed no fanfare
for this common (c'mon) man
lettuce high tail gangnam style to San
Mateo (matt er factly
founded, settled, and
populated by Scottish
donning Harris tweed
a hop, skip and jump by van
from this yan
key dude dull who lives ian
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
To compensate for (A -Z)
ineradicable alphanumeric
character flaws (i.e. mutations
of body or mind,)
and avoid amass
sing wracking up vexatiously
undesirable threatening class
action lawsuit against
Matthew Scott Harris,
which preliminary measure
taken to avoid disembarrass
sing said individual as
a majorly flawed individual
literal shortcomings of body,
mind and spirit,
the metier of writing doth encompass
a creative realm to trump
geomorphology, sans groundmass
at the unsolicited expense
(mine alter ego i.e. worst critic)
will gleefully find,
and expose grammatical,
misspelling, spelling,
et cetera errors to harass
glommed together with isinglass
hop, skip and jumping
to appear as a jackass
whereat no respect
able collegiate lass
would give a fig about me,
one totally tubular royal morass,
which expert anthropologists
stumped asper nonclass
if eye able Homo
sapiens mutant ninja turtle
case in point being his
wanting in height not e'en pass
sing the six foot mark
plus mental illness
perhaps traceable to
besotted cognitive damage
inherited predecessors
quaffing an overdose of quass
made obvious peering at resulting
Ct scan results viewed
via microscopic spyglass
revealing abnormal amygdala
automatically designating
his aptitude underclass
among average human
with mettlesome Zeusian brass.
WHO AM I?
It’s been quite
Some time
Since someone
Noticed
Do you see me?
I am Here
My beautiful
Warm
Genuine smile
Smiling at
The world
Beside me
Don’t you
See my
Chiseled calves
And voluptuous
Thighs
A mile high
I may be over
Forty
But my Bosom
Swings
And Skips
To a
Funky beat
With a tip-toe
Skip, Hop & dance
That only I know
My eyes
Liquid blue
Eyes stare
At magic
In the
Air
My skin
Fair
Freckled
With
An Irish
Pigment
From my
Grandmother’s
Lair
My limbs
Covered from
Head to toe
With Wisps
Of Blonde hair
From my
Mother’s
Hair
Like my
Italian
And French
Forefather’s
My heart
Pumps
By Wine
My Blood
And
Endless
Passion for
Tradition
My fingertips
Reminiscent of
God’s great earth
The Goddess
Nature
Aglow
Laced with
Permanent
Calluses
From my
Writing pen
A kaleidoscope
Into my
Soul within
My voice
An accent
Slung with
Kindness
Compassion
And love
So if you
See me
Dancing
Down the
Street
On just
An ordinary
Day
Than
Stop to
Smell the
Roses
May the
Aroma
Sweet
And lulling
Pass your
Way
Making
Your day
Do a little
Hop, skip & jump
And feel
Freedom
In your
Steps
Make sure
To Smile
My way
Don’t forget
For I am
Here
Watching
Dancing
Waiting
For someone
To see me
Heather Mirassou
'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house,
The toys were all broken...the kids started to grouse.
And Momma in her apron, and I in my shorts,
Were just cleaning up after making strawberry tortes.
When out in the hall there came such a THUMP,
We both ran from the kitchen...with a hop, skip, and jump.
Away to the hallway we ran like the wind,
Only to see something was wrong involving our twins.
The top of the tree and its base were askew,
And gave us the feeling...something abnormal was abrew.
When out from below there came such a yell,
My wife and I...both backward we fell.
There, on the floor, with the tree on his head,
Sat our little son screaming...the one we'd named Fred.
"Oh Mommy, Oh Daddy, Jimmy did it to me,
I was playing so nicely...when he pulled the tree down on me!"
Jimmy stood there in silence just looking at the pile,
Then his little eyes flashed...and his face broke into a smile.
We stood looking at Fred, the tree, and little Jimmy too,
Then broke into laughter...as we took in the view.
We picked up the tree, you could see Fred's reddening face,
As things were put back...all in their proper place.
Jimmy ran up the stairs without be told,
"I know, I know...you don't have to scold.
I'll go to my room into my TIME OUT place,
Just tell me for how long...So I can keep this grin on my face."
I live in North East Florida
That's just a hop, skip, and a jump
From the land known as Georgia
Where "Honey Boo Boo" once held court with her mom
If'n you never knew "Honey Boo Boo"
You're in for a treat or more than one
She was a multi car train wreak
That you couldn't turn your bugged eyes away from
First let me explain the state of Georgia
So this family ya'll will understand
Not long ago they re-dirted both paved roads
Said progress was getting way out of hand
So with that said and done son
With formalities out of the way
Lets turn our attention back to our star attraction
And see what all she had to say
Her fame started out on Toddlers & Tiaras
Reality shows we all seem to love
From The Crazed Housewives to The Kardashion's
America can not get enough
And since it's on T.V. it's gotta be true
Did you ever try her drink sensation
Of Red Bull and Mountain Dew, she liked to call "Go Go Juice"
It'll put hair on your derriere for extra pad in relaxation
And who wouldn't want to see a six year old
With that kind of Hellacious Buzz
What went through my mind when I looked at it was
Ahhh, Redneck Motherly Love
So now do you redneckonize her
Where all I just said is quite true
A dolla used to make her holla!
I sure miss "Honey Boo Boo" on the Boob Tube
As I'm sure all of you do too...