Long Junk Poems
Long Junk Poems. Below are the most popular long Junk by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Junk poems by poem length and keyword.
Dee clubb of davos, meets twice a year.' Un saintly rules to
Tank' that stinks.. From here.' Like vegetation to long underwater.' Slime and stench creeping 'over the borders'
A land pristine of 'white powdered' mountains colonisers
Of canberra.' Where they exported a pics-ean high fountain
Just like the one in geneva.. It springs to mind? Over an
Unruffeled lake, it all looks benign.' Back to the black-board
However we go.' Or perhaps? Its a pure white one.' Louse
Knabe, only knows.' Its a land of (choc o lait) a bit like old
Wonkas where trucks cant start before nine am or police
Will arrive and fine.' Which is not so fine.? Where you can't
Flush a toilet..' after ten o'cloch by night..You guessed it or
Another fine..Mess for any ' (not just stuff in the pipe-line) yet
Back to the conference centre where ( bugs are lauded ) as zee
Zouper food..This is all recorded.' I have heard some there
De-facate in bed.? If important thoughts are in their heads
( well the maids can clear it all up later ) its just perks of your billions.' And the fact your wealth is much greater.! Than
Nomal sense.? ( OH THAT WON'T DO.!) in the rarified air.' ten grand tips.? For doo-dooI'd say its not right.' Oh pooh.' So true unfair) yet
Thats the way of davos..In the year of the snake?? I'd nearly
Forgotton that omen.' So reptillian? btw the way do you
Want more cake.? The richest is availible only on such
Circus days.' Still makes a break from cricket bread and
Other junk food I must say.' Its really hard to see any benifits for the world.? Maybe its just me..? With my
Beliefs though one of which is (boys and girls) are much
Needed assets.' Indeed I stand to applaud; the reality of
A strong humanity.' And why not throw all our bugs overboard.)
Baltimore Tales
lazy fat cat meowing, begging for a meal,
mother baking cookies, grates an orange peel.
husband’s belly flopping, cold beer in his hand,
watching Jimmy Kimmel, singing with the band.
little Susie playing, with her pregnant worn out doll,
dumb dog outside barking, as the oak tree’s acorns fall.
UPS delivers, a Halloween costume,
little Leroy grabs it, runs up to his room.
soon appears as Batman, mommy says “how cute”,
but sister and the father, don’t really give a hoot.
outside the neighbor hollers, “better come and see”,
as it runs and yelps in circles, the dog stung by a bee.
across the street the yard sale, has now gone in full swing,
they’re selling all the junk they bought, imported from Beijing.
The bus stop now is crowded, with people on their way,
to watch the rodeo in the field, the ground is strewn with hay.
the lanky tall hairdresser, prepares her chair and waits,
for those who need a different look, before they meet their mates.
the alleys now are quiet, as the day comes to an end,
the runaways have all gone home, there’s nothing left to spend.
the doormen watch the rich arrive, in rented black tuxedos,
gay convention here tonight, they’re prancing in their speedos.
I’m certain there is more to see, but I must take the train,
to somewhere far away from here, and rearrange my brain.
and try and understand these tales, that somehow seem so strange,
that people here in Baltimore, have managed to exchange.
WW1 WISCONSIN FOLKS MEANING THE PRISN SYSTEM IS CONTROLLED BY CORRUPTION CROOKED COPS MEXICAN QUEEN PIN DEALERS WW1 MEANING GANGSTER DISCIPLES THE 1 REPRESNT CITY FOLKS THE PITCH FORK YOU CAN VISIT THE WALLS BEHIND BARS STILL COVERED WITH VOMIT BLOOD SHT AND PISS AS CORRUPTION FALSE ARREST FALSE ACCUSE FINALLY GIVE FALSIFIED STATEMENTS IN ORDER TO BRUTALIZE DISABLED PERSONS BEHIND BARS IN WISCONSIN PRISON STSTEM LAME DUCK SOCIETY CORRUPTION COPS ARE SENT OUT TO DELIVER TERRORISTS THREATS RATHER 1810 SHERIDAN ROAD WHERE ARSON MURDERS ARE COVERED GANG LEADERS ARE HIRED TRANSFERRED TO WISCONSIN UNDER THE GARGANO HAYES MILWAUKEE DRUG TRADE CONTROLLING WHO GETS STABBED WHO IS FOUND DEAD IN HOTELS BULLYING INTIMATION BADGERING TAUNTING DOMESTIC TERRORISTS BRUTALITY ACROSS COUNTRY ORGANIZED CRIME RICO VIOLATION GANG RELATED COPS INTIMATION FOR QUEEN PIN VENEZUELA MEXICO SENDING OUT THREATS FROM PRISON BY CORRUPT COPS BEING I WORE WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM JUNK SICK COPS AND GANG LEADERS WW1 FOLKS WAUPUN WISCONSIN TORTURE CHAMBERS OFFICER MEXICAN 1980 BURGULARS OBSESSED WITH MY GRANDFATHER SERVING IN ROME ATTEMPTS TO IMPERSONATE ME WITH MEXICAN IMMIGRANT IMPOSTERS JAMAICAN DEALERS SCUM SCUFFING UP MY BEDROOM DOORS BREAKING INTO MY HOME VIOLATING OUR HUMAN CIVIL RIGHTS FOR GANG RELATED COPS HELPING THE GANGSTER DISCIPLES FROM WISCONSIN NO FEAR OF DOMESTIC TERRORISTS ON AMERICAN SOIL YOU DON'T GET TO TERRORIZE ME YOU DON'T GET TO EXTORT MY AMERICAN POETRY CORRUPTION ORGANIZED CRIME DIRTY JUNK SICK COPS AND THEIR VIOLENT OFFENDERS HOUSED IN THE WISCONSIN WOMANS PRISON LOOKING FOR GET OUT OF JAIL FREE CARDA BY FALSIFYING BULLSHT WORKING FOR WISCONSIN GANGS YOU ARE SCUM OF THEE EARTH GOD BLESS AMERICA
Now I’m not a guy likes to dunk,
But this overseas backboard is junk.
For the costs I’ve incurred,
I should beat Larry Byrd,
Or hit a three-pointer, I’d thunk.
See, the front of the rim always droops,
And that makes it hard to play hoops.
Plus, the pole is too short;
it provides little sport
unless you’re a dwarf with the stoops.
But take heart and don’t ever fear!
Add hops to your hoops to bring cheer.
The more Hefeweizen,
The more you will wisen;
I’m a genius this time of year.
It’s not like you’re better; you’re not.
Just be happy that you forgot.
It’s bold and it’s yeasty,
so drink up your Wheaties.
Stop trying those darned three point shots!
—————
FIRST PLACE WINNER
For the Sad Backboards And German Hefeweizens Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Matt Caliri
Written on 04/17/2022
I tell my grandchildren that I live in a van down by the river.
They laugh, delighted.
I call myself trailer trash.
They dance to this, happy that I am here now, amusing them.
I throw out equally outrageous statements as we paint rocks and junk.
Why do you do say these things?
My daughter asks in a prissy, haughty, borderline stuck-up way.
Her husband winks at me.
Encouraged, I tell their children that I am a bag lady, and
I cannot wait to live under a bridge.
My son-in-law and I both laugh at my daughter’s look of horror.
I cannot wait until they go to dinner, so I can really get creative.
The oranges came upon the
Reds followed too quickly by golden
Yellow leaves.
Hitting his own autumn the commuter took
One moment to suppose that
Tree had something to do with his own time here but
The metaphysical was beyond grasp.
He understood the sell and the buy
The unstoppable flow of raw goods
To manufacturer to emporium to consumer to junk yard.
He blew his horn anxiously at the gawker in front
And sped down the boulevard toward
Another day—telephone tied to his ear
Retailing and counting exchanges in minute specialty.
Outside, one child
Lays looking through the trees for the day to break
Catching for the first time the mix of redorangeyellow.
The horn breaks his moment.
He too remembers the school bell
And skips off for another repetition
Of yesterday.
I hold on stretching the moment
Out past millenniums opposing the rush
Into eternity proffered by the Wallstreets of America,
Walmarting each of us onto a higher plane of shopper madness.
Shoppers of America, lechers of our time,
Cannot even laugh at me for my leftover
Quixotic operation on the Schuylkill River.
For their stare is lodged at King of Prussia Mall
With its answer to the repetition of changing trees-
Newfangled toys for every day let alone Hanukkah and Christmas.
If they had seen me they could have pointed
To their children an example of
A wasted life without
A patch doll or plastic jack-o-lantern
In the window above the garage door leading into my home.
I kickedaleaf and tried frantically to slow down the trifling time
I had before the parts of my body wanted no more to carry the weight
of my mind digressing or my conceit.
Getting to know the canned goods aisle
in the dollar store was fun,
the ladies have been most helpful
in finding Chinese knock-off junk.
The Senior Center makes a passable Salisbury steak
and who needs gravy?
Independences has taken a down turn -
our addled leader blames some Russian guy,
the supply train is chained-up somewhere,
eventually we may all die from Global Pawning,
at least we don't need baby formulary anymore,
though we are considering developing a taste
for cat food; I hear 'Whiskers' do a mean
tuna casserole.
When down to your last million dollars
one must be frugal.
I believe in friends, and forgiveness by way of overkill
so I ran swiftly over, carrying my Minnie Mouse skateboard still.
You could have ridden it, she said, coming to the door.
as I slid in brownies, cookies, pumpkin pie, and other goodies galore.
I am an dunderhead, an idiot, the worst friend of all, I began to beg.
She did not hear me while taking the lid off my homemade nutmeg
which I make from my own spices out in the back forty.
So you forgot, she guessed, laughing, as we began the annual sort-y.
which ones are mine? she said, looking at all the junk I had brought.
I had strawberries, and lemons, blouses, and a red and blue cot.
The one I wanted! She yelped with a delighted scream,
knocking me into the pumpkin pie I had brought with whipped cream.
I always forget, so I can run over and do this.It is our annual thing.
She loves it, and laughs, and it feels so absolutely right.
She counts on it each and every year, and we have a birthday sing.
The best accident, once upon a time, now we do it with all of our might!
Sinful Rusted Red Firebird
Sometimes I think back to those years
I wish I had been just a bit older
Nobody notices a fourteen year old boy
Funny though, I noticed everything
Under her paisley top she didn't wear a bra
Long blond hair flowing out the car window
Robert took her for a drive in his 68 Firebird
Undressed her right there in the back of the car
Silly giggling sounds from behind fogged windows
The thought of the two of them was exciting
Everything seemed much more vivid back then
Don't know if anything has ever felt so intense again
Robert was the cool one back in those days
Easy good looks and of course that car
Dangerous he was, in a James Dean sorta way
Firebirds still evoke sexy images for me
I bought this rusted piece of junk just to restore it
Rusted sure, but when I'm done it will be cherry red
Eleven years I've owned this busted old car
But it seems like it will never really be mine
I sit in it sometimes and imagine I'm with her
Running my hands through her gorgeous blonde hair
Don't judge me, I know it's just a silly boyhood fantasy.
Sorry Casarah, I can't bold on my IPad.
It was 1984 Christmas eve the arson
murder took place this resulted in the
fbi informing me my life was in grave
danger ciro Gargano had killed 8 elderly
old people he returned years later 1998
memorial day weekend to commit another
arson killing victim 9 elderly homeless man
he began a revenge against me to punish me
for witnessing the plotting of his arson
murders of 9 sending ultimate threats
terrorists threats on license plates made
by severe repeat violent offenders behind bars
in the Wisconsin woman prison funding his
female gang members violent offenders
recruiting gang members on the streets
sending out threats personal threats
because my wearing wires pregnant
buying weapons and drugs resulting
in hundreds of gang leaders queen pin
drug smugglers convictions my prayers
are with this corrupt madness Gargano bullying
me with corruption balanced over satisfying
an entire woman's prison of gang members
gangster disciples controlling corruption
Sadly my wearing wires pregnant for the
FBI buying weapons and drugs from junk
sick cops was to get Ciro Gargano prison
time cut in half on his own weapons and drugs
charges only he forgot the arson murders
were still on the table meaning he'd
have to rat out Bin Laden himself so he
gathered corrupt officers violent offenders
gang members to bully me intimidate me
commit identity fraud against me even tried
to extort my American poetry my stalker
99999999 nine elderly person burned alive
thats the real issue here Gargano hired a crew
to taunt slander threaten bully my life several
attempts on my life including igniting a car
bomb in my face so when I see 999999 on
license plates it's clearly blackmail from a very
cruel criminally insane mastermind arson murderer
who hires corruption to intimidate his victims
and violent offenders to plot murder falsifying
information abuse of power gross negligence
excessive harm funding arson murder of 9