Long Joes Poems
Long Joes Poems. Below are the most popular long Joes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Joes poems by poem length and keyword.
Did the belt? Get its way?
Wearing the pants of those who earn, just enough pay
Commander should want to know
Since dropping programs is a no go
Stated from an image that used to be a spear
Controlling those inner circle cheers
Enjoying a Miller Busch beer
Once again red skin sometimes burned
Trying to learn
How to use the tanning bed
Playing with the voter's head
Mailing it in, using Fed Ex
Many gave RFK Stadium, a gut check
Finding much decay
Washington could not play
And with the colts gone
Northern harbor city needed a new dawn
The Raven chapter was written
Poe ghost was smitten
This idea is most fitten
Author spirit did concur
Wanting the haunting message to be heard
About this dirty bird
Who could make a stir
When the powers that be
Have a late luncheon tea
To discuss a reason
Why both should not have a successful season
Since two hundred fifty years ago
There were numerous Poes
Who were just average Joes
Challenging the King
And his crowning aristocratic bling
Until blood was shed
And people were dead
Tonight
When DC and Baltimore stage this fight
Remember poems can spin a tale
That could catch the rhythmic sail
And become an anthem
Of one poetic phantom
Named Poe
Who you all know?
Since he took things to the grave
Being brave
Speaking his mind
Only making a few dimes
Unlike the Washington Times
Who love the moon
And its galactic enchanting swoon
Where the wolf's howl
When the commander's scowl
Turning men into beasts
Making them tackle in peace
Not allowing anyone to die
Due to a miscommunication lie
Which could result in lives saying goodbye
Lets play this football game
And remember the name
Who passed in shame
Drunk
As a skunk
And should be warning to the rookie sleeping in the top bunk
It is not nice to hurl
On the first ladies pearls
You are not getting any referral
Earl
Instead, a yellow flag
Replacing a body bag
And upon another review
That is honestly pretty cool
As we metamorphose
away from mumbo-jumbo,
we cleave to poetry, abandon prose.
Science is the only one that knows.
I saw it on “Colombo”.
A laptop’s far more useful than a rose.
Remember Walden Pond, and when it froze?
Or when Aunt Bernadette prepared that gumbo?
You won’t forget the north wind when it blows!
America’s best movie? If it chose,
the Number One would probably be ‘Dumbo’.
And ‘Tik Tak Toe’ would be the Show of Shows.
We all have sadness, live through woes,
but strong folk are not looking for macumba.
Rain falls – that’s all we need suppose.
Just check your seams are straight: adjust your hose,
and get out there and trip a raunchy rumba.
You know the tune real well. It’s one of those.
You think that milk and honey are what flows?
I’d like to see you tell Patrice Lumumba!
It’s been that way for many other Joes.
Art long, life short? The poem has to close.
But maybe, from the shadow of the tumba,
some vestige will remain for you to gloze.
Flying Saucers, Flake, Bar Six
Country Style, Gobstoppers, Twix
Arrow Bars and Sherbert Dabs
Sweet Tobacco, Lucky Bags
Toffee Crisp and Dairy Crunch
Grand Seville and Milky Lunch
Beta Bars, Loot, Candy Floss
The mysterious chewing gum flavour loss
Golden Crisp, Nut Crisp and Fuse
Extra, Bliss and Trebor Chews
Caramel and Raspberry Ruffles
Drifter and Milk Chocolate Truffles
‘99’ Flake ice cream cones
Zooms and Fabs and Toblerones
Coffee Break, Bitz, Victory Vs
Cadbury’s Special Recipes
Swisskit, Gold Mine, Apple Jack
Tiffin, Feast and Caramac
Welcome, Skippy and Sultana
Nutty, Banjo and Cabana
Chewing Nuts, Cough Candy Twist
Butterscotch and Butterkist
Crunchie, Topic, Fudge, Mintola
Super Mousse, Crazy Joe Cola
Golden Cup, Fruit Flavoured Rocks
(The secret of) The Black Magic Box
Floral Gums and Cherry Lips
Olde English Spangles, Walnut Whips
Kinder toys encased in plastic
Necklace sweets linked on elastic
Butter Mints, Fruit Polos, Yorkies
Sherbert Lemons, Sherbert Strawberries
Bazooka Joes and Liquorice pipes
Lollipops with swirly stripes
Mint Cracknel, Taxis, long red laces
Texan Bars and Funny Faces
Winter Mixture, Rainbow Drops
Jazzies, Kit Kat, Pips, Ice Pops
Toffee Bon Bons, Drumsticks, Rolos
Amazin’ Raisin, Aztec, Mojos
Barley Sugar, Chocolate Limes
Daims that changed their name from Dimes
Jelly Babies, Jelly Tots
Milk Gums, Munchies, Mars, Pear Drops
Coltsford Rock and Anglo Bubblies
Sugared Almonds, Frozen Jubliies
Peanut Brittle, Prize, Ice Breaker
Dolly Mixtures, Old Jamaica
Kop Kops, Wine Gums, Laughs and Treets
Jap Desserts and whistling sweets
Fishermen's Friends and Hacks and Zubes
Pineapple Chunks and Cola Cubes
Everton Mints and Pontefract Cakes
White chocolate mice and jelly snakes
Refreshers, Teacakes, Swizzles, Pacers
Toffee Logs, Fruit Gums and Waifers
Rumba, Dipped Flake, T Bar, Tunes
Fry's Five Centres, Macaroons
Bars and boxes of Milk Tray
Milky Bar and Milky Way
This ‘Pick and Mix’ is yours to share
With all sweet lovers
everywhere.
A big-headed dreamer, pockets full of hope
Say, that and five bucks gets you a cup of joe
Worn out Army boots and my Goodwill coat
Sky's overcast and it feels like snow
Rolling on good time, guitar by my side
I'm gone to East Jesus on a westbound ride
Left Mississippi, too many ghosts back home
So I headed out west chasing my next song
Got hassled in Houston by some local Joes
San Antonio's cool, I saw the Alamo
Rolling on good time, guitar by my side
I'm gone to East Jesus on a westbound ride
California's crazy, Sugarcane Sadie
Showed me a good time
That desert moon and those Dylan tunes
Still playing in my mind
In the middle of nowhere where the wind blows free
I think a while in Slab City might be good for me
Salvation Mountain like a beacon shown
The Word of God painted stone on stone
Rolling on good time, guitar by my side
I'm gone to East Jesus on a westbound ride
Rolling on good time, guitar by my side
I'm gone to East Jesus on a westbound ride
A big-headed dreamer, pockets full of hope
Say, that and five bucks gets you a pack of smokes
Worn out Army boots and my Goodwill coat
Sky's overcast and it feels like snow
©2018
In past elections I’ve heard told
Voters adding an extra box and throwing old Bugs into the fold
How bad does it really have to be?
Could Bugs Bunny maybe help set us free?
Poor Elmer Fudd would definitely be of no assist
They took away his gun, no proper reach around and no kiss
Daffy Duck has also taken his leave and gone south
He was just no match for Bidens quick wit or Trumps loose mouth
But seriously folks I think we are all screwed
We’re damned if we don’t and damned if we do
Some say the Donald is a little bit touched
But what’s left of Joes faculties, not much
As we get closer to election day, reality will surely bend
Beware of fake news my friends and this apocalyptic end
I know who I’m voting for, me and my toot toot
Bugs Bunny for president, now wouldn’t that be a hoot
Joes corner
Joe watched every morning,
The sun that pecked over the trees in the distance view,
Watched has the sun rays drifted over his row of growing veg,
He sat in his rocking chair and waited for the birds morning calls,
Beautiful musical song,
He sat and whistled along,
The breeze would add the slapping of the leafs,
It would often sound like the melody to Mother Nature’s song,
The swaying of the rivers waters and the drew drops splashing the river below,
To Joe sounded like the beat to Mother Nature’s song,
Joe loved to watch from his pouch,
The beauty in his flora home,
A farm handed down,
To him from his father and his glad to call it home,
I've traveled the world o'er and consider myself a connoisseur,
Of the sandwich specialities of many a haughty entrepreneur.
I've sunk my teeth into tuna fish and spicy barbecue,
But there ain't nothin' like a rueben and a cold, foamy brew!
Fable has it that the reuben was concocted by one Rueben Kay,
Circa nineteen fifty-five during a poker game one fine day.
He certainly did his part to put Omaha, Nebraska on the map.
I will ever appreciate the culinary skills of that fine chap!
Ah, my taste buds just tingle thinking about this luscious repast.
The unlikely ingredients of a rueben sandwich are unsurpassed!
Corned beef, swiss cheese and heaps of sauerkraut,
Tucked between slices of rye with horseradish, just a wee amount!
There are many sandwich delicacies to choose from, I do declare,
But if there's a reuben listed on the restaurant's bill of fare,
You can rest assured that is what I will always opt for;
That's a forgone conclusion even before I enter the door!
I've devoured greasy hamburgers, hotdogs and sloppy joes by the score,
Ham and cheese, chicken salad and fancy finger sandwiches galore,
Even concocted my own version of the famous Dagwood Bumstead,
But any time a rueben is proffered, I'll take one of them instead!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Am I a waiter or a warrior, a visionary, or wall watcher?
Am I a strategist or fighting activist?
Sometimes, I feel that I'm just a nesting dove.
Perhaps at any given season, I'm all the above.
If we care enough to share in the intimate places with
God, we must dare to breathe that great and rare air of God. .
Come with me to a world of questions and mysteries.
Allow me to muse my way into some unpleasant places;
Places of craving for the face of God but finding no trace.
I speak not of people wearing holy halos or holy Joes.
I'm talking about Ordinary Mary and Everyday John going about
Their routine lives with a longing desire for a God-centered life.
You may not concur; yours may be a different world,
Or perhaps you've never ventured into the murky waters
Of your soul as have I. Anyway, this place is real.
On occasions, my soul longs to see, to hear, to feel,
To touch and be touched, to sense and taste God
In unusual, yet Biblical ways. That longing, that deep
desire of which I speak is not always or should I say, is seldom
reciprocated. It could also be that I get distracted and fail to
recognize God's reply. Am I making sense so far, or am I stranded
On an island alone? Anyway, the sign I long to see is a 'no show',
And it seems that God hides himself from me, for my good of course.
It's when the voice, the sounds I expect to hear are not there or so faint
and distant as to not be useful. Or when God is silent, or so it seems. Or
when I do not feel Him or His Presence, and/or in fact, none of my sensory
faculties are in tune sufficiently to benefit. My best guess is that we are in "a trust only zone" where we feel at our lowest, but in reality, there is that side
of us being informed that we are experiencing our finest hour. I tell you, this
present muse was inspired by a conversation last night with close friends.
We concluded that we, whether dove or warrior, are always benefactors of his love because God is faithful, and in His time, he makes all things beautiful.
092720PSCtest, Completely Your Choice(33), Brian Strand
Contest entry11220, HM's and NA's October 2020, C. La France. 2P
Judged and NA on October 26, 2020 by Brian Strand
The thirty first of October is Halloween
‘Spooky Joes ‘party will be the best you’ve seen
He drew up a list of who to invite
It was going to be one scary night.
Dracula, Mummy and Frankenstein
With big black dogs that bark and whine
Werewolves and Ghouls are coming too
To ‘Spooky Joes ‘Halloween do.
Terrifying pumpkins with candlelight
Guaranteed to give you a fright
Green slime and cobwebs adorn his door
With spiders crawling all over the floor.
With the north wind blowing and a moon so bright
Conditions were perfect for the night
Trick or treat kids up and down the streets
Asking for money or a bag of sweets.
‘Spooky Joe’s party was now in full swing
The blood was flowing and so was the gin
A surprise was planned for later that night
Guaranteed to give his guests a fright.
The coach and horses from the other side
Would arrive at midnight to give his guests a ride
Where it would take them no one can tell
It could be paradise or the fires of hell.
Written 13 March 2018
The more I learn the less I know
global warming closing Eskimo Joes
Rivers run down but the Nile runs up
first taste of beer from a tippy cup
Dead birds pile high at a windmill farm
going green what's the harm
Lets say we will when we won't
Lets say we did than don't
Take the jab against your will
when all you needed was a cheap pill
Praying for rain in a flood
soon we will all be living in huts of mud
No more baths save water instead
some days best to stay in bed
Little boys now are little girls vice versa
gender confusing children makes it worsa
The Big Lie now Stop the Steal
fake media governs with the unreal
Essentials gone shelves are empty
Let's Go Brandon, where's our Horn of Plenty
Crime wave swells to floods
life was better funding the Fuzz
Feeling red while forced by blue
Big Orange Monster we miss you