Long Hubby Poems
Long Hubby Poems. Below are the most popular long Hubby by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hubby poems by poem length and keyword.
Panting, running, paying, fuming,
Bumping, swearing, hurrying, driving,
All because today is the thirty first
Of the month, why are we all nigh to burst!
Got to buy groceries, go the butcher
The dry cleaners, the florist, the baker,
Did i turn on the slow cooker?
Have guests coming at 8.00p.m still
On the road, home in 15 minutes – phone Will,
Darling, Did you collect the birthday cake,
There is a big accident, traffic hectic won’t make
It to pick it up – Yes sweetheart I have
Drive carefully the roads are crazy,
Looks like a storm brewing, weather drizzly and hazy.
As I arrive in our driveway it pours with rain,
And I drop a packet, which had the red wine, I stain
My clothes and the car seat, go have your shower,
Hubby says, relax, everything is under control,
Turned shower taps to their full strength and power
Exhausted, let the water run over my naked body
Till I feel refreshed, get dressed in my
Sexy black number,
And come downstairs, hubby gives me a wolf whistle,
Just wait till the guests leave he says, look at him
From under my lashes!
The aroma wafting from the stove is
Provocatively divine!
And next to the sofa is a glass of room
Temperature red wine.
Table is set, arrange flowers I brought in a vase,
Immediately, the bell goes ding dong,
It’s Cherry and Tim,
She couldn’t wait to show me her engagement ring,
Hot on their heels are Susan and Barry,
He has just asked Susan to him marry,
And last of all my twin sister Rina, arrives she’s wise,
With her new boyfriend in tow she bellows, Hi guys!
Fun was had and wine was drunk
Laughter abounded in the lounge and dining room,
We all forgot how tired we were and
It was end of the month, and all the media forecasted,
Was doom and gloom!
It was my birthday, turning forty, no turning back now,
Don’t regret a day of my life, bless the day I took my vow,
Happy birthday dear Mary, happy Birthday to you,
I felt blest had my hubby and sister present and select
Friends but few,
Mellow and happy and with certainly no one drunk,
Just four happy couples full of zest and funk!
Our guests began departing, in twos they left,
I slipped of my shoes and gave a big yawn,
Will picked me up, and must have undressed
Me – for all I remember is waking up to a peck
On my cheek,
And a scrumptious breakfast in bed,
I always knew I had picked the right guy to wed!
The Possum of Possibilities was invited by Grandpa Troll to visit our brood,
The Possum heard Carol had a dry spell and a terrible writer’s block, so true.
With the troll’s adventures, penguin’s antics, and witches brew...
With Dragon’s mayhem in town, something had to be done, they knew.
Grandpa Troll brought Possum over, for Carol to peruse,
He looked her up, down, and sideways to everyone’s amuse,
Her mind’s wheels were not lined up right, he announced.
You have activity all about you, that's very pronounced.
It is all swirling around and not latching to the cogs.
Ideas and stories are coming in fast and plenty, but…
There are so many and they are acting like a stream of logs,
Her brain is overloaded and getting a little bit clogged.
Possum instructed Grandpa Troll on the best course of action,
But Dragon was nearby and overheard the conversation.
Our fiery friend was planning on how to clear the brain jam,
Then ski-daddle and go on the lam.
Like so many plans before, he knew Carol’s brain was crammed,
And his ideas always ended up like some explosive spam.
Grandpa Troll saw that look in Dragon’s eyes and knew there was a plot,
And said to Possum; “We'll need your help again, before we’re in a spot.”
Over to Dragon Possum went, then a once over, right, left, and top to bottom,
Grandpa Troll reached into a dusty drawer that hadn’t seen light since Suttom.
Out he pulled two pens, one larger than the other, filled with magic ink.
An incantation filled the air – “E pluribus divideous writeous inlink.”
(Basically saying; what stories were divided are now joined by two writers.)
Possum handed one to Carol and the larger one to Dragon.
“With the magic pens, you both will be able to see the stories about you.”
For Carol, he pointed out; now the cogs won't get dinked, as ideas get linked,
And Dragon, a source of the jams, once written down, became happy as a clam.
Both help each other, now, as Grandpa Troll had hoped with all the activities.
And with a little help from an old friend, called the Possum of Possibilities.
A writer’s block that was going on with his dear...
Is a tale that Hubby has now told, and made so clear.
And now another peaceful evening… was suddenly shot all to Heck...
Until Next time…. As Dragon and Carol are now racing all about!
Michael Eastman & Carol Written 7-21-2015
I was born, Bronx, New York, in the year 'Thirty-Nine',
the first child with a brother who followed in time.
Ten years later, moved North, Hudson Valley, same State
where I've settled, lived on with my loved ones to date.
But when young, in my school, two fine talents emerged,
and my teachers spared hours to encourage my urge.
I enjoyed my young years while I painted and penned;
lots of canvas and paper used up without end.
At eighteen, I then married the love of my life
and enjoyed my new path of becoming a wife
to my US Marine, very handsome and true;
Parris Island, our home for a year, almost two.
By the age twenty-five- was a mother of three;
a fine son, two sweet girls, a complete family.
We worked hard every day and our life was so good.
I wrote poems and painted whenever I could.
Later, painting with oils was the pastime for me-
while I studied for years at an art gallery.
Varied art shows, displays, and a job filled my time.
Soon I sold many pieces and life was sublime.
Yet, the years went by fast and at age thirty-nine,
I enrolled in a college to study part-time.
Six years later, I earned my prized English degree-
a BA—and a Minor in Business for me.
Then my pictures with words replaced those done with art,
and I soon published poems of life and of heart.
Yet along in this time of my great writing spree
I worked hard every day as our business VP.
For a full twenty years, we worked hard faithfully
after hubby retired as the Chief of FD,
selling our fire equipment, all types, big and small
to FDs, factories, district schools, and the malls.
Our dear children all married, with families too,
are involved happily in whatever they do.
Happy grandma of five- twenty-five to eighteen-
and one granddaughter married two thousand thirteen.
We retired, sold our business thirteen years ago,
still so busy with life, with its ebb and its flow.
We are proud and so blessed and thank God up above,
for our days and our life of good times filled with love.
April 11, 2015
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Where Are You From
Sponsor: Joseph Soper
Judged: 08/01/2017
~2nd Place~
Contest: Bio of a Poet
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
Judged: 04/18/2015
Form: Anapestic Tetrameter (12 syllables, 4 feet per line)
A Very Merry Christmas
T’ was the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Spoons were stirring the drinks
Held by every souse
The shot glasses were filled
With three kinds of whiskey
Though were often spilled
When Myrna got frisky
The highballs were placed
On the chimney with care
Until Uncle Nicholas
Tripped over the chair
By chance no kids awoke
Because of that slouch
But Grandpa slid off
His warm comfy couch
“What was that,” He asked
“Was there a collision?”
Which in this case there was,
And not one of his visions
Yet, before lying back down
Gramps had one more night cap
Then slumped onto the couch
And squashed poor Nips the cat
While out at the bar
There arose such a noise
Because Myrna was flirting
With some of the boys
I sprung from the recliner
To help my dear cousin
And saw lads sucking shots
From her pierced belly button
Away to the window
I flew for my life
But when looking outside
There was my modest wife
Dancing in circles
Around the snowman
Though minus a coat
Being half in the can
When I hopped to the door
But who should appear?
My dear uncle George
With a cooler of beer
I had to think fast
For my wife and Nick
And for Myrna inside
Yes, I had to think quick
Then came inspiration
To set up the maneuver
Of thumbing my phone
For the app to Uber
I had fifteen minutes
Until the taxi’s came
So I shouted and called
Everyone by name
Now Nicholas, now Myrna
Now dear Grandpa G
Yo Uncle George
Climb in a taxi
I called to my cousins
In the midst of a brawl
It’s time to drive away
For Pete’s sake, drive away all!
And then in a twinkling
I saw on the roof
My wife of all things;
Still high on forty proof
I didn’t call out
Knowing she’d crash
Yet she jumped in the chimney
Landing on the heaped ash
She was dressed in a robe
That turned coal black
And I was surprised
Coz she clutched a small sack
Then my wife oddly asked
If I thought she looked chubby
But I knew that trap
Being her hubby
I spoke not a word
As she quickly rose
But when I picked her up
Tore her panty hose
I sprung to the bedroom
Flopped her on the bead
While the sack she held
Knocked me upside the head
But the bag just contained
A large carrot and stones
And ‘Merry Christmas To All’
Displayed on her phone.
One day I was really busy with chores as my son was sitting all around.
Not helping, he was driving me crazy as he got in the way, in leaps and bounds.
Every few seconds he was asking what to do, and acting, oh so bored.
His whining and irritation carried on, as all my suggestions, he deplored.
In a moment of weakness, I told him to go fly a kite high up in the blue…
Well, we all know how karma has its way, and comes around so true…
He found a kite and sailed it with a kid with wilder views, outdoors.
Sure enough, trouble began as a girl in tears came running to my door.
She was begging me to save her froggy friend, the one she so adored.
For he was indeed taking a trip to worldly heights, as that kite soared.
Panicked, thoughts of a little broken froggie now sailed thru my mind.
And PETA knocking down my door was of course not far behind.
Chores forgotten, and with eyes full of horror I raced out the door.
Low and behold a kite that never could seem to get off the ground, before…
Was soaring at 200 feet where it continued to climb and soar, some more.
I figured my sons real want, had been to get attention from his Mom, for sure.
And he had won as we were together, as we tried to get that froggy to our side.
But he kept telling me the froggy had, himself, jumped twice on the kite, to ride.
But of course I didn’t believe him as we fought for froggy’s life.
After an hour of swoops and dives while praying for the best, amid the strife.…
Finally he was settled in a tree. But was the little guy happy? Did you guess?
No siree! No way! For when the kite took off again, I must confess…
With a leap of faith… he was again riding that kite as it shot up like an arrow.
And my son told me SEEEE I told you he really wanted to go…
As I reeled him quickly in, I ate a little crow, for not believing in him, before.
As we brought the froggy back down…I explained he didn’t want to soar…
But no matter what he wanted… he must not let him, ever sail again…
For my son was old enough to now understood the danger he’d been in.
I told him it was his responsibility to protect and pay attention to his little friend.
Instead give him love and attention, and to always be kind to him.
Dedicated to my Hubby always encouraging me on this site. PS: This is fictional.
(alternately titled: tongue in cheek humor
cuz the following hyperbole
from this pencil necked baby boomer
without intent to badmouth,
nor start unfounded rumor,
who chalks, i.e. attributes gobbledygook
to funny bone tumor).
Impossible mission maneuvering around
soiled clothes pile
floor to ceiling humongous mound
terse reply hopefully adequately sound
to convincingly doth explain
absent poet buried alive underground,
perhaps never heard and/or found
till 1-800 GOT JUNK uncovered
emaciated (lovely bones)
formerly Matthew Scott Harris
his remnants discovered
visa vis mastercard bloodhound.
No need to fret
(while guitar gently weeps),
just talk to who barkeeps
works long late hours, he oversleeps
thus best track him down,
without uttering peeps
please find out if he knows
anybody reliably housekeeps
maybe lady luck will
thru think magical realism
deliver sophisticated robot
harkening within outer limits
from twilight zone
hookin get the job done
in one fell swoop sweeps.
Meanwhile yours truly
tries to remain upbeat
despite being royally tricked
upon pledging his troth
haint cool wedded bliss
heavily perspiring courtesy ultraheat
smellbound by malodorous laundry
necessitating heavy amount
of clorox to pretreat
which I rather drink,
(and thank president Trump)
for sakes Pete!
Though the misses upholds
voluntarily cooking as wifely role indeed
worth commendable attention,
I do concede
and doth adequately buzzfeed
her hubby lest he
wither away to lovely bones
(well past due date
late to avoid
above mentioned outcome,
his (mine) corporeal
being well nigh freed,
thus complaint regarding
spindleshanks solved no knead
to strain skinny ankle muscles
and maintain self promise
holy matrimony, cuz
aye know weed
never remain married forever
as initially agreed.
Fickle finger of fate
hath spoken thru smelly
potential Superfund site
perhaps... not amazing how heaping pile
of unwashed laundry can create
ecological hazard, that warrants B44
one bedroom apartment condemned
management understandably irate
to withhold security deposit
nearly four years at Highland Manor
now ready for model
domestic counterpart to debate
with her better angels where to relocate.
Guys I would like to share my FIRST WEDDING ANNIVERSARY
wrote by Mrs.Madhavi
Hey my Honeybunch,You let my first Wedding Anniversary unforgettable..
Hey guys, you know what?? I had got a pleasant surprise from my hubby.It was our 1st Marriage Anniversary on 24th April 2013. Actually we both had tight work schedule..and hubby was at pune..It was too hard to digest that v couldn’t meet each other..but some hw prepared mentally that its ok.. will meet @ weekend..After few hours bro called and said that he is going to organize party for my in-laws and mom-dad n he said..your hubby wont come bt he askd me to conduct party tonight..I got too upset bcz f dis again..dat hw cud i without hubby :(( but after few minutes i got clue frm my momma n i ws at the top f my world..everyone was waiting to cut the cake n my eyes wer desperately searching suyog..hotel assistants wer asking quite oftenly "shall v bring the cake n i ws like..no no wait..just wait.." but later dey brought the cake aftr bro's signal..n dey started clapping n played music for wishing.. Everybody said : Now stand n cut the cake..he won’t come..my bro also said how eagerly u bin w8tin n searching fr him bt he really wont cum..my bro n my family members not only confused me but hotel assistants as well regarding suyog's arival but i said where is my hubby??????? i wont cut the cake without him..gt too too upset again n emotional :(':(' was trying his phone bt he avoided my cal n msg popped out..he is busy with other manager..talk later..gt really upset bcz f dis..den i felt now seriously he won’t come..Suddenly i had glimpse f suyog n i ws like is it suyog??????? dat ws the touching moment....gt too too excited n my happiness was beyond bound..Everybody around me laughed.He hugged me n wished me..I too wished him..later we cutted the cake n he gave me nicely decorated flower bouquet..Really “You made me insane..you made me sick..men..in your love..Without you my life will be incomplete..” Heartiest congratulations to you my Honey!!!!muahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh and I wish you to b as my life partner fr all seven birth's..n lastly thanks fr hp pavilion lappy,beautiful sarees n amazing jewelleries.. :) :) /\./\
by:
Madhavi
Dear Santa,
As you may well know,
it's tights and not stockings that are all the go.
So, with no stockings to hang on the bedstead,
would a pair of my bloomers be OK instead?
I'll sew up the legs so that there is more space,
can't have my gifts falling all over the place.
I hope you don't mind, as my wine you consume,
please try to be silent when entering my room.
I'm a light sleeper and at my age, which is quite a pain,
if I lose too much sleep, then it addles my brain.
You may kiss me sweetly if I'm in deep slumber
mistletoe on my pillow, plus telephone number.
I promise to leave you a home-made mince pie,
though the pastry's gone soggy
'cause the onions made me cry.
Myopia means recipes I really struggle to see
though onion in mince pies' is a new one on me.
But the pies are quite tasty as I'm sure you'll agree
and if you're still hungry, then have two or three!
There's a drop of fine whisky which you may try too,
bought by my late husband circa 1952
'twas in an old bottle I found in the shed
my hubby drank most of it afore dropping dead.
I think you're so special, dear old Santa Claus,
now here's what I would like you to leave in my drawers:.
1. A pretty box - so I may store my false teeth so neat,
so I can find 'em when I gets me something to eat.
2. A walking frame 'cause I am liable to fall,
and falling, alas, does you no good at all.
3. Some California Poppy, as supplies now seem so short,
if this scent can't be found I will smell like a horse.
4. A pair of big knockers, for front and back door.
A warm cosy nighty, don't need see-throughs no more.
5. Get me a back scratcher, please, if you can,
I can't scratch that itch since I lost me old man.
6. Also an emergency underwear kit,
as nowadays there's times when I don't quite make it.
7. If you have a big dog, leave it in the back yard,
I'll treat quite kindly, if me it will guard.
Thats all the gifts on my Christmas wish list,
but I'll settle for more Santa, if you insist.
I haven't been naughty for many a year,
when awaking, I expect all my gifts to be here!
Merry Christmas!
Looby Loo x
* * *
Christmas 2020
Aah... how great the taste of water...
After lounging in bed until
late morning/early afternoon
we (the missus and I) felt restless
as garden variety buffoon
or think chrysalis itching
to escape encased within cocoon
nevertheless, she mustered hubby
long since retired dragoon
late morning/early after light
clothing he must post haste festoon
he protested against testing
comfort zone merely donning galloon
his self conscious morphology
declaimed repeating honeymoon
embarrassing circumstance,
when caricature artist accentuated
pitiful spindle shanks published
front page see national lampoon
most recent issue or possibly
toothpick legs ought be printed June
a boot six days hence excluding
counting Memorial Day 2020
whereby barenaked ladies
(spouse included) unwittingly ironically,
farcically, and comically forced
skinny dipping under full moon
after newly bride & groom
pledged troth unwittingly nudist beach
entered momentarily devoid
of swimmers, who suddenly at noon
witnessed madding crowd
momentarily oblivious to laughingstock,
one after another burst out guffawing
(at my expense) at picayune
sorry/lame excuse for male
adult *****sapiens peculiar physique
courtesy anorexia nervosa
(when thirteen years old), I caused ruin
permanently stunting psychological
and physical characteristics,
for better part of existence
(mein kampf) uttered lamentable tune.
Absolute zero self worth (the
big goose egg) matter of fact will
state being earnest and frank
going on walk thru Schwenksville
thought person in every
passing vehicle (quite brisk traffic) rill
lee mocked appearance when
espying long haired pencil neck
geek fortunately blessed with
few gray strands deliberately colored via quill
to ad some convincing heft
to boyish good looks, though mill
stone metaphor linkedin with
living little approaching over hill
soon petering into becoming old
and senile, nope never got fill
of teenage romance, I started
dating during early twenties
deterrents to integrate among
including sounding think duckbill
nasal honking, and even hot spell
temps spiking high eighties/
low nineties dressed head
to foot ready for big chill,
especially cuz dehydration less likely.
I want to tell a funny story,
About this certain candle I had bought.
“We’ll have a romantic night in”
This is the first thing I thought.
Now this candle had its own jar,
One of those ones with 3 wick burners,
A statement decor piece, they say
A real mood turner.
I put the kids to bed
And set up the room just right,
I lit this big ass candle
And turned off all the lights.
The candle smelt amazing,
The room was all a glow,
I said we’ll do soft and sensual,
You know, we’ll start off slow…
But things sped up, and I kept saying
“shhh or you’ll wake the kids…”
The mood was very romantic and
I was thinking “I could used to this…”
Things were getting heated,
And the bed was starting to shake,
Unbeknown to us - the candle
would crash down like an earthquake.
Then suddenly the room went dark
and we couldn’t work out why…
For this big ass candle had other plans
- like learning to fly!!
In the heat of the moment,
We forgot the candle on the bed,
Within a split second it fell off
And smacked poor hubby in the head.
It landed on his naked chest,
Covering him in hot wax from head to toe,
Turning his red beard white and
burning his chest hair, face and nose.
He let out a scream of pain
He thought he had been discreet -
He woke all the kids up
And half the bloody street!
He leapt out of bed in a mad rush,
And slid across the wax covered floor,
He was trying to wipe his eyes so he
could find the handle on the bloody door.
I flicked the light on and seen
that the wax had started to set,
For he couldn’t move or speak
This will be a night we’ll never forget.
The bed looked like a crime scene,
For the wax had stuck like glue,
There he was standing butt naked
Looking like one of those wax statues.
We couldn’t get the wax off,
We had to throw out the sheets.
Alright candle - you win that round.
We’ll just have to admit defeat.
When I said things were getting hot,
This is not what I had in mind.
Pretty sure he got 3rd degree burns
and is now partially blind.
That’s the story of our hot date,
Something we could’ve never planned,
One thing is for certain though,
All the ing candles have been banned!