Long Huey Poems

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


Premium Member My Wife and I Went Driving Before Christmas

My Wife and I Went Driving Before Christmas
Kevin Davis 2024

One chilly night, my wife and I
Went driving where the lights shone high.
We turned a corner, dark and small…
And found the brightest glow of all!

There stood Rudolph, nose so red,
Shining brightly as he fed.
Beside him Frosty waved hello,
All made of snow from head to toe.

The Grinch was there with Max, his pup,
While Herbie pulled a tooth right up!
And Scrooge McDuck laughed loud with glee,
As Huey tickled endlessly.

The Polar Train came chugging fast,
With toys and treats to make joy last.
Susy Snowflake twirled with flair,
Beside her danced the Cinnamon Bear.

Piglet, Tigger, Owl so sweet,
Brought jars of honey as a treat.
Winnie smiled, and Christopher too—
Their Christmas wishes had come true.

Then Charlie Brown and Snoopy came,
With Lucy, Linus—every name!
They sang a carol, soft and clear,
“O Christmas Tree” for all to hear.

The Trio’s music filled the sky,
With notes that seemed to float and fly.
While George and Garfield, quick and spry,
Ran round the tree, both low and high!

And Santa stood with friends galore,
With Mickey, Minnie, dozens more!
His reindeer lined up two by two,
Their bells all jingling bright and new.

He called their names—away they sped!
“To every child, good night!” he said.
With gifts and cheer, he soared from sight,
A shining sleigh in velvet night.

We drove back home, our hearts so bright,
Still glowing from that field of light.
For Christmas magic, pure and true,
Lives on in me… and now in you.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Ugly American

The ugly American likes waving the flag.
And dissing what he doesn’t understand.
He’s scared of change and threatened by intelligence,
But says he’s only honoring his clan.

The ugly American can’t think for himself.
He follows the herd spreading rumors and fear.
He’s a self-taught gomer, and a sucker for conmen
Who always tell him what he's eager to hear. 

The ugly American is an immature child.
He wants to live in the past as though those days were gold.
He’d have worshiped Father Coughlin, and Kingfish Huey Long.
Now he champions a modern demagogue.

The ugly American doesn’t need to rob banks,
Molest little children or murder his wife.
All he needs to do is keep his head in the sand
To see the consequences of an unenlightened life.

The ugly American never looks in the mirror.
He prides himself on honoring his roots.
If he saw his reflection, he’d be faced with the fact
That he's as useful now as worn-out cowboy boots.

The ugly American likes waving the flag,
And dissing what he doesn't understand.

Hopeless Romantic

By definition I'm a hopeless romantic 
so no matter what kinda decisions I made 
in the women I chose I always took responsibility 
for how it turned out… 
I never doubted the process 
just understood that my decisions were suspect 
and looking back I understand it 
in order to be a hopeless romantic
you first gotta be young enough to believe in hope 
because let's be honest hope is some young sh*t 
and like the revolutionary Huey Freeman once said 
"Hope is irrational" it's an idealist mentality 
it's empty calories, like drinking a diet soda 
after you just had a big mac that you just super-sized 
It's sky diving while having to dive out the plane 
to go and get the parachute 
yeah you may find it cute but your perception of love
It's a lil acute, your angle is slighty obtuse 
but that's the beauty of being a hopeless romantic 
especially when you're young, so optimistic 
while everyone else has a pessimistic view 
you're young so even if you do experience heartache 
you can take it, it won't break so easily 
no need to sweat your irrational decisions 
your good intentions are pure 
and the rest of the world are just cynics 
excuse my sarcasm, rumble young man rumble 
in this jungle it's best to be lion hearted 
just because your intent is pure 
doesn't mean theirs isn't tainted 
I'll leave that with you…
© Corey Ross  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Huey's back tell your friends they'll like it




Cooey have you heard the word on the streets 8 hours of absurd beats 

Doff hat to old school cool cat rule in the hot seat sat every tune just phat

Over the moon we swoon legends croon only a buffoon lampoon’s the boon


Phew we hiss lost you and didn’t have a scooby doo how to cope without you

Heaven or Evan's sent hell bent to be the main event a magical musical present

Give Chris a kiss knew we’d miss the dope bliss did feed our need for more you


Like the thriller in Manila not a scintilla of filler just another bassline flotilla 

No fraud or clanger all banger the concorde of chords roared in our hangar

Mr Morgan on the soundtrack tiller our melody miller our weekend’s pillar

 
Won’t get too gooey eyes wet a little dewy guys prime time to tell your friends 

Can’t go wrong sound the gong funkier than cartoon loon Hong Kong Fuey 

Every gambit & skit en song ding dong laced with wit from his Sunday pulpit 

Brassy every pundit knows the culprit could only be Huey you’ll like it..stay classy
Form: Rhyme

Back To the Barnyard

My name is Tom and I'm the cat here on Manor Farm 
Let me introduce you  to the gang .
I rule the roost as you will see and ginger the chicken she agrees. 
The stable door top half open ,Mr Ed the horse says morning  well he is a talking horse !
And daisy giving milk she's my favourite,  cant think why ! 
I stroll over to the sty and give Dave a hi  who's one happy looking pig 
Shaun the sheep is in his field playing with his kids  
and Shep the sheep dog is sat in the shed and he his  fast asleep
And that's how he will stay, as I don't fancy being chased today.
Now over to the duck pond to see Donald and his crew.  Huey , Dewey, and Louie 
And finally to the farm house where the humans live. who are pretty good to me !

However them there humans have some nasty  traits 
They eat gingers kids for breakfast 
Dave is turned into bacon and daisy into  steak 
Shaun gets the chop with mint and peas and the Donald is sold to the local Chinese 
and Sheps pups are  sold as a pets. 
and Mr Ed is made to chases Fox's. Which is really not the best !    
so all in all I'm just saying us animals are the best .  






The cast 

Manor farm : animal farm the farm out the book 
Ginger : chicken run
Mr Ed : the talking horse  60 sitcom .
Daisy : magic roundabout  children's  TV program 
Dave : are well  been naughty here Google  David Cameron and pigs,  humm  best not 
Shaun : the sheep children's TV character 
Shep : a dog on a UK children's program Blue peter 
Donald :  Disney duck and his nephews 
Humans : Us 

comp entry 15022016


Premium Member A Song of Three - Favorite

I sing a song of three.
There’s Larry, Curly, Moe;
the Ego and the Id
and the Super Ego.

Three Kings of the Orient
are known as three wise men.
Showing up at Christmas too
in song are three French hens.

Rock, paper, scissors -
three gestures with the hand;
tricycles; three-legged races -
 things of kiddie land.

Three little kittens; three blind mice;
three were the billy goats gruff.
three bags of wool; three little pigs;
three bears for Goldilocks were more than enough.

Being three sheets to the wind
won’t be very good
if a 3-ring circus
becomes your neighborhood.

But three are the Amigos
and three the Muskateers.
Charlie had three Angels -
they were TV dears!

Huey, Dewey, Louie;
Kirk, Spock and McCoy;
Peter, Paul, and Mary
I sure did enjoy!

Three were Cream, ZZ Top,
Rush and Motorhead,
Diana Ross with her Supremes
(but not the Grateful Dead).

Three’s Company, but three’s a crowd!
Three strikes you’re out: a yard’s three feet.
Three-piece suits and Hanson Brothers.
Girls think those are sweet!

Ice cream Neapolitan
comes in flavors three.
So does three-cheese pizza
or a sandwich BLT.

Three-leaf clovers do abound
though luckier are four.
Yellow, red and blue when mixed
make three colors more.

Three things evil not to do
are to hear, to speak and see.
Holy is the number three
when it’s the Trinity.

Splendid are the trilogies
like Lord of the Rings.
Clearly you can see by now,
in threes there come good things.

Feb. 13, 2021
For the 3 Poetry Contest of Anthony Biaanco
Now for L Milton Hankins' YOUR PERSONAL FAVORITE, NO. 2 Poetry Contest
Form: Rhyme

Message To the Brothers

In the words of the great Huey Freeman, hope is irrational 
hope will have you trying to rationalize
between you heart and your head 
on whose logic is more rationale 
Lights, camera, action now 
there's a lot of people out here 
losing themselves trying to please someone else
but love is a battlefield right? 
and the cost is always high 
just don't become a casualty to war 
give your all and always remain transparent
but unfortunately that won't guarantee you anything 
so here's my advice to you, remain true
yeah it's important to watch what they say 
but more importantly watch what they do 
never date anyone twice
because it's kinda asinine to relive any emotional anguish 
but most importantly my brothers 
is that you choose a woman who speaks your love language
© Corey Ross  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Boots On the Ground

Saddle up! Saddle up! It time to go.
     I heard the Sergeant’s call
I held by rifle against my chest,
      And vowed to give my all
It’s time the Sergeant said, move out 
     Let put your boots on the ground
For God, Corps and Country, 
     I took a solemn oath,  I’m duty bound
To the landing zone I gladly went
    Then the day slowly began to wane
I picked up my ammo and weapon, 
    Not a word did I complain
Suddenly, I heard high in the sky
      The gunships thundering roar, 
I watched with great anticipation
     Then felt my pulse begin to soar 
Six Huey Cobra gunships suddenly
     Bursting forth from the sky
It was my ride to to camp Khe Sanh 
     Where many marines live and die 
Towards the besieged compound 
     Without a word we went
Their engine roaring louder, 
     The gunships pilots refusing to relent
When I arrived on the battlefield, 
   I stepped out and pensively planted my feet
I looked around at my surroundings
   The pestilence of war their I meet
From inward fears beyond passion’s pledge
     In their hands they held my fate
And of this mortal enemy
     Their rockets would not abate
Then I heard the sergeant shouting
       I wished the rocket had gone awry
While in this dreary existence
     I turned to God and sought a reason why
I dove into my sand bag bunker, I didn’t’ hesitate
     I felt my heart beat strong in a bunker in Khe Sanh
And when the sun rises heralding a new day 
     I’ll strain all my senses, look and ponder long
I never meant to linger, only thirteen months I’ll stay
     For strong is the life of which I intend to save
As the North Vietnamese Army surrounds us
     Their intent obvious, to put me in a grave
Form: Rhyme

You're Looking at Country

When them cotton trees get rotten,
You cain’t pick very much cotton.
If I cain’t vote for Huey Long,
I’ll sit right down and write a song.

Country music has its themes,
the stuff that Big O saw in dreams:
prison, railroads, pickup trucks,
where kids are Billybobs or Hucks.

It’s telephones and wrangling steers,
and cheating hearts and chandeliers:
you’ll know just where I’m coming from
when I say, best of all is Mom.

But shorter, better: briefer, sweeter –
that much I have learned from Skeeter.
No necklace, then – just one fine pearl
(don’t want to leave you haggard, Merle!)

Ridge’s shoes are derelict.
Looking down, he says, “You picked
a fine time to leave me, loose heel!”
A lonesome whistle – gamblers deal.

Is Ridge in Fulsom? Nothing new,
but headed where the grass is blue.
Let the Long-Hairs twist and shout – 
Ridge is fixed on busting out.

Once free, he finds a Travelodge,
unseen, hot-wires a jacked-up Dodge:
FM playing, wailing sax,
Ridge now needs to cross the tracks.

He’s almost reached his side of town.
Speed up! The bar is coming down!
A woman, dressed up to the nines,
on foot, steps on the railroad lines!

Thus Ridge fulfilled the Country rules
(not taught in fancy East-Coast schools):
the long-term loser fought the law,
but crashed into his loving Maw!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Slang Footles for Male Names: Part 3

Always Prepared

Ready 
Freddy

The Untamed

Feral
Ferril

What’s in Frankie’s Pockets?

Frankie’s
hankies

Patriotic Guy

Yankee
Frankie

Of the highest Quality

Fraser’s
razors

Small Eater

Grazer
Frazer

The Warlock

Pagan
Fagin

The Brilliant One

Star Glow
Fargo

Something’s About to Happen to Him

Herald
Gerald

Poet

The bard
Gerard

The Mimic

Parrot
Garret

Who Needs Pudding and Pie

Georgie 
Porgie

Good Grief!

Lordy,
Gordy!

Best Things in his Garden

Gerrett’s
carrots

The Stoic

Steely
Greeley

What People Always Say to Him

Really,
Greeley?

The Generous One

Sharin’
Garen

Thrill Seeker

Gnarly
Harley

So Angry

Snarly
Harley

Embittered

Soured
Howard

Not Brave at All

Coward
Howard

What’s in Henny’s pocket

Henny’s
Pennies

The Pest

Vermin
Herman

What Herman Gives Each Sunday

Herman’s
sermons

Why Can’t He Just Stay Home?

Roamer
Homer

Better Than Ice Cream
 
Sherbet
Herbert

Get Him Band-aids

Howie’s
Owies

Nonsensical

Phooey
Huey

Always Amazed

Wowie
Howie

The Overly Sentimental One

Gooey
Huey
boy
Form: Footle

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