Long Jocks Poems
Long Jocks Poems. Below are the most popular long Jocks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jocks poems by poem length and keyword.
Reality is coming.
Don't you hear its wings, a-thrumming?
When prosperity smiled
on the people of the Nile
and there was bread and onions
no Calvins, Luthers, Bunyans
could disrupt the daily toil
to sell them snake oil,
but the workers in crisis
are sure to turn to Isis.
totem poles, Superbowls, Beyonce Knowles
cellphones ring tones Rosie Jones
will-they-fire-us, Trojan virus, Miley Cyrus
How long can you keep
them walking in their sleep?
In the watches of the night,
don't you sometimes take fright
when you think how it will end,
the day they comprehend?
Ron Paul, Fawn Hall, Rollerball
go-fasters, phony pastors, US Masters
shock jocks, Redsox, Amanda Knox
During the investors' meeting,
don't you hear those wings, a-beating?
With a K or maybe a C is often misspelt
Leprechaun sworn torn from green felt
Billiard baize suit worn with a big belt
Scorn cliches like Romans Cornish pelt
Taffs...the Jocks or Shamrocks smelt
In foreign lands so many have dwelt
Velvet villainy Galician or Brittany C/Kelt
Falter but not at Catholic altar knelt
Riff raffs playing the cards we're dealt
Life & death debacle glued a shoe's welt
Riddles tango with fiddles so heartfelt
Calms disarms always buxom not svelte
Lovers then in each others arms melt
No qualms rascal sparkle charms of a Celt
One summer I fell in love with Popeyes chicken and Barqs root beer.
Lusted over a Mexican rose in the crumbling flat upstairs.
In the daytime I moved furniture and shuffled dreams.
Come eve I'd slouch in the aluminum bleachers aside the gridiron.
Merrily gorging and drinking...though quite alone.
Happy in the glorious simplicity.
Tossing silver cans and bird bones between hash marks.
Wiping greasy fingers on the stars...
Basking in the sweet scent of irony...
You see, in high school I secretly hated jocks,
They'd flaunt those sparkling letters and harvest all the pretty girls.
I flaunted F's and got their leftovers.
Now they were getting mine.
Many moons later,
My lips still crave those cold silver cans with little red barrels.
Remembering the silhouette of a rose in a crumbling upstairs flat.
Some things are never meant to be opened...
Squatting next to a garbage bin,
she dons a fake smile that doesn't fit.
And though track marks tattoo her skin,
her addiction won't let her quit.
Abused by pimps and those she serves,
each encounter has left its mark.
And a cheap dress hugs girly curves,
as she shivers there in the dark.
Forced into a life of disgrace,
she feels she hasn't a single friend.
And her hair hides her haggard face,
trapped in the land of let's pretend.
Whispering sly, suggestive words,
she advertises sex for sale.
And propositions jocks and nerds,
feeling frightened, hungry, and frail.
Lewd proposals, oft crude and stark,
are overheard above the din.
And she sells herself in the dark,
praying God understands her sin.
(Quatrain)
8/22/2015
I trusted them because I was blind,
I followed them because I had no way to find,
I chit chatted because I was alone,
I laughed on their dirtiest jocks because they were a clown.
My friends made me smile when I was sad,
And it was all okay when they were bad,
For all moments I left, I was back,
But shortly I recognized I was at a wrong track!
A track is something on which a train runs,
My life is something which made me run!
From east to west or north to south,
I realised my mistake which I'd lately caught!
They were so mean and they'd been,
Nobody trusts me but I had seen those scenes,
The way they used to paint my heart black,
Scarcely I agreed, I was on a wrong track!
I shuddered on being on this way,
My keen to leave them on April or May,
They made uses of me, me like smarty,
But soon I found them successful but also guilty.
I thought of a way which I unexpectedly got,
Best and fake friends are surely caught,
The photo frames which are on my rack,
Still memorises me, I was on a wrong, wrong track!
We gathered for our thirtieth class reunion at Lydia's Smorgasbord.
I'd avoided such past events since in school I was largely ignored!
But my spouse proclaimed we would attend, thus ending that debate!
The dreaded encounter is expressed in verse below that I will now relate!
A social hour preceded the buffet where the booze freely flowed!
I looked about the room to see if I could spot anyone that I knowed.
I hardly recognized the campus queen - she had acquired a heap of weight!
That once haughty snob now tipped the scales, I judged, at one ninety-eight!
I saw the big-man-on-campus who was named most apt to score success.
He had a dearth of hair, an ample gut and an astonishing lack of finesse!
Some gal with purple hair staggered up to me and planted a slobbering kiss!
Must've been one of my old flames as I mused, "Now, who in hell is this!"
Guys gravitated my way boasting about this and that bending my ear.
They bored me with nasty jokes and trivia that I really didn't want to hear!
Of course I told all how great they looked, staring them dead in the eye,
And asking the Lord's forgiveness and crossed my fingers for telling such a lie!
The jocks were trying to impress one and all with their waning capabilities.
Most were hobbling about with canes discreetly masking their disabilities!
'Twas an interesting eve and the grub was great, of that there is no doubt,
But for our fortieth, fiftieth and sixtieth reunions, please include me out!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
It is the lairiest of epochs
Ignore slop do a pop vox
Chock a block with shocks
But the scariest of tik toks
Snapping like hungry crocs
Another spate of hate docks
Photos that everyone clocks
Those ones who girls mocks
Are as deadly as small pox
Aren't all as strong as an ox
Shaking from online knocks
Drowning in instasham lochs
Stinks like young men's socks
Mistaking that a cure’s botox
Crowning a theory I defrocks
That faking makes you a fox
Solution sells comes out a box
Lies stir fries in corporate woks
Smells fishy like out of date lox
Why jog cheat the elite flocks
Fatty injections vanity smocks
As the poor everything hocks
Pharma firm flogs all its stocks
Not just peahens also peacocks
Androids on steroids rippled jocks
Muscle bound like the Springboks
Why are so many blokes.. cocks?
How about all go on a long detox
Take note your boat you’re the cox
Winner is the inner you which rocks
Fashion rations compassion is bollox!
Hey Loretta, here's a poem just for you
written by an admirer who's feelin quite blue
We met at Oggies on a sunny winters day
Just around the corner from your place, I'd say
We hopped around from table to table following the sun
We drank hot chocolate and coffee by the ton
When I came to your house for dinner, I got lost
cause all teh roads in ellenbrook, seemed to criss-cross
I drank all the wine as I searched for your place
Little did I know I was so far yet so near from base.
We sat on the couch and I asked you for a kiss
when it happened I knew that this was bliss
You loved my kiss so very much
Nothing ordinary, nothing common touch
It lingered in your mind and memory
It was sweet wet and very sensory
We went out the next week to Rosie O'Grady's
Kissed all night, it must have looked a bit shady
The day after when I saw you in my shorts
All I wanted to do was for us to court.
As the days went by I fell more and more in love
And soon you were all I would think of.
We first went away to a beach house in two Rocks
We went to the beach and got sand in my jocks
we walked along the beach at leasure
looking around for any shipwreck and treasure
In the virgin pool waters of Point Erin
stood a siren in her fairest beauty all -
my heart dared to want and its flesh of sin
did upon her beguiling favours call.
Remembered are the concubines of court -
a fire in my codpiece and in my jocks,
jousting grey knights whom over you fought
and a Celtic Queen in long flaxen locks.
Over the toll bridge a young lord and prince
from the realm of Epsom landed Birkdale,
to seek sweet raptures in my limerence
by she possessed of its Unholy Grail.
O’ what forbidden enchantment was she
when the spinning bottle of fortune spun,
and what soft lingering kiss given me
when the party kissing contest we won.
Every once in a while the stars and fates
shine upon the archer and his longbow,
and the wondered youthful heart elates
at its piercing tip and flight of arrow.
Over the toll bridge a young lord and prince
from the realm of Epsom landed Birkdale,
to seek sweet raptures in my limerence
by she possessed of its Unholy Grail.
Written: April 1994
The reader of this title
probably thinks I'm on a bender
It's all about some comfort
I've not abandoned my male gender
For some years now leather belts
are causing pain around the hips
Now I get a pair of panty hose
and cut it into strips
The way I live my life
is far removed from orthodox
The strips hold up my shorts alone
many years since I adorned myself in jox
So men now take yourself into a lingerie boutique
get some panty hose to make a stretchy belt
Wrap it round your belly
so much comfort never felt
Sometimes when wearing zipless tighter shorts
it's difficult to lift the trouser leg when there's a need to pee
But elasticity of the panty hose means
top of shorts are quickly lowered so now willy's running free
Footnote: perhaps I am showing my age here talking about panty hose . For those unaware
they are female attire, a form of stockings and jox or jocks maybe an Australian colloquial term for mens underwear