Long Kicks Poems
Long Kicks Poems. Below are the most popular long Kicks by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kicks poems by poem length and keyword.
There's A Pedophile In The House...
(ah...ah...ah...ham eye white...???)
OMG,... and he looks...
SAY WHAT??? just like me???,...
absolutely NO WAY!!!,
would this sensitive,
respectful, "FAKE" veejay
quiet-natured, mindful,
loving, kind, underplay
justice invoking, hew today
mainly, gentle, friendly, "I say"
enlightened, democratic chap redisplay
any besotted abominable,
blamable, culpable, quay
esse chin hubble
despicable, execrable prey
dot door formidable,
inhospitable...overplay
ying faux indulgent,
NOR be mistaken
to assay, betray, convey,
display, expressway more fay
writ his'm to
gainsay hearsay, inveigh
jaw dropping "FAKE"
yuge weak accusations
(by a long shot), sans
basket of conspiring deplorables
attempting to assassinate
bigly believe me tubby "stupid"
winning loser to berate,
who doth unequivocally create
mine substantial vocabulary rumor,
versus 4th grade reading level
trumpeting librettist - thee great
test Don Quixote
(as falsely sung with hate
full sotto voce), and ramped up
as ill suited mate
a minus [sic] zero moron,
which doth hapt
tubby incredibly tremendous
disservice to bona fide classy idiots
with a lot of money
(like the millions and billions
of my golfing confrères)
given bent iron golf clubs
used by crooked Hillary,
when former Secretary of State
ideal for Putin on the Ritz
by far less exciting, with
Bill Clinton's flirtatious flits
trained pudenda purse
sin null property
of intern (NO FALLACY)
topped as southern delicacy dish
consume mated with buttered grits
pricked prurient peccadilloes licks
suddenly recalling seminal kicks
starting, how with Little Rock kits
he received assistance,
sans starts and fits,
eventually then nubile
ingenue Monica Lewinsky
called time out, cuz at her wits
end once assisting helping
express his "naughty bits,"
when done completing
cum mincecd secrete mission
blue dress draped
expensively furred
(i.e. tricked out) in her
"FAKE" minx hiding
sable animal spirits,
when animal rights
activists vehemently protested
out-coming result
slapping former president
with a PETA file.
Have you ever seen bullfrog green jump across a Lilly pad?
Did you ever see gold moth bathing in a moonshine bath?
Do you watch as teal raindrops bless and baptize the stream?
Will you hear the wood windmill song it sings each spring?
I walk real close to the sandy coast where Nana and I share things
She told me once always have fun always be true and dream
I recall those days her voice her face I can still see her smile
The dandelions seemed less boring to me a wild city child
Papa came into the house with his muddy blue overalls
His gray mustache seems to shout louder than Pa talks
“The time is close and he is nearly broke come if you want to see
The albino pony being tamed from the only pack of wild ones near the creek”
My eyes grow big and I must admit I love excitement of any kind
So I dropped my book to have a look and ponder the pony so fine
The pony kicks and then it sits as if one final stubborn nerve exists
Then it saw me it started to scream and have all kind of fits
Papa says whew! This one likes you! Why don’t you say hi?
I was really too scared and had never dared to ride a pony or try
But for some reason I had a season of unusual courage to spare
I climbed the fence went straight to him
The pony with ice eyes white hair
As soon as I came close, he let out a little noise
It was as if he had hoped to find comfort in my voice
I didn’t know what to do or how I would earn his faith
But in a minute or two our eyes like glue
Stuck and we became mates
The pony calm was eating from my palm
And I feel a new esteem
Instead breaking the pony in
I feel he broke into me
Each day the boredom was swept away
By my pony friend indeed
I would feed him little treats change his hay
And he fed me spiritually
The pony still was a little strong willed
So no one was allowed
To ride him or take him anywhere
That was too far from the house
So times were slow even so the pony and I would play
He could do tricks and even dance a bit
If I ask him a certain way.
Pony bends and I get on him
Like the wind he rides to town
I find the nurse who was at church
And she calls others around.
So that summer I lost and found things
I would never willingly give up
Nana and kittens and Papa getting bitten
A pony and farm full of love.
A NOTABLE HORSE CONTEST
10/13/2021
SPONSOR ROBERT JAMES LIGUORI
let every old woman with a wrinkled face,
she should be aware,she lives in disgrace,
a furrowed brow,hairy lip and single tooth,
know me well,i'll get the truth.
a squinty eye and scolding tongue,
the squeaky voice she's had from very young,
you will never hide from me,
i'm the witch hunter general you see.
my name shall be feared throughout this land,
my hunting of witches will go as planned,
first you'll be tossed into a cell,
stripped naked and starved,until you tell.
i'll start to prick to cause you pain,
and i'll do it over and over again,
then you'll be bound to stool or table,
cross legged of course,even if you're not able.
after twenty four hours the cramps will set in,
again poked and prodded,but i'll use a new pin,
you'll then walk the stones til your feet bleed,
still i reckon you don't get to feed.
then you're taken for a swim in the lake,
your baptism water you didn't take,
if you're innocent you will drowned,
but if you sink a true witch i've found.
this cruelty wasn't enough,mathew got no kicks,
a new style was developed,it only took two ticks,
he bent victims double,tied thumb to big toe,
a rope round the waist,in the water they'd go.
these people were worn down by his torturous way,
but hopkins was going to have his say,
one question he used in the brow beating session,
you're aquainted with the devil,i want a confession.
a nod or monosyllabic reply will do the trick,
or my man will beat you again with the stick,
then poor john lowes,a suffolk minister of note,
was told you're a witch,i can tell by your coat,
a quarrelsome gent of seventy was poor john,
disliked by many,they wanted him gone,
hopkins took the task to prove he was right,
john was kept awake for many a day and a night.
they ran him till he was out of breath,
he was weary, and scared half to death,
so he confessed to get some peace,
then the torturous pain would cease.
hopkins said"another one i didn't let survive",
john went to the scaffold august 1645,
no cleargy would read for him at his grave,
a villager said"to the devil john was no slave".
who knows how many poor sould were lost,
letting hopkins rule,had it's own cost,
more than 200 people this way met their fate,
by the time hopkins hit norfolk,it was too late.
his trials of blood passed through our countryside,
in his work mathew hopkins took great pride.
I write in remembrance of the late Dennis Liwewe (Zambia's No.1 and Celebrated Football Commentator). Here is a short football commentary:
"Ah, this is Dennis Liwewe. We are here in Mauritius, where the two sides, Zambia National Team and Mauritius National Team will battle it out this afternoon. Capacity crowd 40,000.
The referee is from Kenya and match commissioners from Nigeria and Senegal respectively.
At this point in time, the referee blows play on , and Mauritius team take the ball back to their goal keeper. A loose ball pass the centre circle, a bad pass by Zambia we are in deep trouble, Only to be saved by the Goal keeper Efford Chabala. This is no other than Kapambwe Mulenga, defending very well. Ball zooms out for the throw in. We are beaten in the air, Ashios Melu picks up loose ball, he beats a man in a double one two situation, he kicks a tumble, which is well chested by Kalusha Bwalya ( popularly known as Great Kalu). Great Kalu beats two, three Mauritius defenders. Great Kalu within a firing range, hammer. It's a gooooooal 1-0 to Zambia. Back to the studio for our sponsors. Mauritius are coming in a counter attack situation, their dangerous striker is breaking even, Bomber. It goes away. Again and again, Zambia takes control of the situation here, Efford Chabala pumps a long ball passes the centre circle, we are good in the air. Kelvin Mutale dribbles two Mauritius defenders, hammer. It's a goooooal Zambia leading by 2-0 . Second half , Mauritius are very aggressive at the goal, they want to equalize. We are in deep trouble again here, sliding tackle by Kapambwe Mulenga, and the ball zooms for a corner kick for Mauritius. Headed away by Ashios Melu, a little pass to Charles Musonda, passes the centre circle, he turns 360 degrees. He passes the the ball to Kelvin Mutale ( the master dribbler), it's a gooooooal, 3-0 to Zambia. We are in the dying minutes here,
And the referee blows the final whistle. This is Dennis Liwewe signing off. Pick it up ZNBC studios in Lusaka, Zambia.
May his soul rest in eternal peace
Concept by Zambian Sports Lovers
Poetry Chipepo Lwele
Note: Dennis Liwewe made Zambians to love football in the 70's, 80's and 90's when we had 2 band radios and few television sets, we were glued to the radios young and old, less educated and highly learned. He made sure that the message is loud and clear.
It’s a quarter after seven, a cloud of silence immerse,
Six frightened souls, the situation a constant curse.
The candle burns dim, it’s almost out,
Dinner was scarce, not enough to go around.
The kids are edgy; the mother’s heart rapidly beats,
They hear his anger in a distance, way up the street.
The swearing gets louder; they can almost feel the pain,
“All jerseys on “mom says,” again we sleep in the rain”.
In through the gate, the stairs he doesn’t see,
Falls to the ground and curses, for bruising his knee.
Kicks the poor dog on his way into the house,
Punches the door open and throws himself on the couch.
Calls for his trembling wife, the mother of his children,
Just to punch her in her face, to let her know of his presence.
He shouts for his kids and tells them he hates them,
But it’s nothing new, as they’ve heard it all being mentioned.
He’s meal is served the last glass dish around,
He flings it onto the floor, a thousand pieces on the ground.
“I want food,” he screams, but that was the last,
“Eat off the floor,” was his wife’s suggested blast.
A million stars was then what she saw,
As he played football with her head against the wall.
Her screams died slowly after the third bounce,
No heart he had, not a shred, not an ounce.
The children run for help to the neighbors they implore,
They slam the door on their little faces, their plight to ignore.
With no one else in sight, their fate they do not know,
No brave soul to help, their hearts all sank low.
Six frightened faces, all abused and torn,
The eldest just ten, with the youngest just been born.
In darkness they stand, the rain steady and cold,
Where quietly they wait for events to unfold.
A thin lanky passerby called the police by chance,
When he saw that evil man, he knew at a glance.
Something had happened, danger was imminent,
No more screaming was heard, damage was evident.
An ambulance came hurriedly with loud sirens blasting,
While the evil man being shoved in the police van swearing.
The unconscious wife bleeding profusely from her head,
To the hospital they take her, where she lay almost dead.
Six little children, scared, cold and tired,
Enter their home slowly, that’s dark and quiet.
They sweep up the glass pieces and scoop up the food,
And take care of each other, cause’ it’s just another day of Abuse.
It is very impressive to go westward
in an early morning of midwinter,
because you will see a full moon
that you have forgotten for a while
in the middle of the western sky.
[The westward moon is, perhaps,
the one that Li T’ai-Po
who was bewitched by
and delighted by a moon so much
chanted poems in praise of the moon
throughout his life,
after breaking a thick frozen ice on the lake,
scooped an August full moon
that is not sunken but still floating
on the surface of water,
and pasted it to the wintry sky.]
Although the air in my car is still cold as ice,
and roadside snow is being melted from salt spray
and messy, covered with splashes of dirty water,
the moon, like a virgin still chaste,
[By manmade machine and men,
the moon, though, lost her virginity long ago,]
looks immaculate and gorgeous as ever.
For the moon
riding high in the western sky
enjoying the honor and admiration that is entitled
only to virgin girls
though she lost it long ago,
the north wind,
because of her envy toward the moon,
was wandering in the frozen waste
pleasure driving a sheer-white chariot
brings a violent snowstorm,
and heartlessly shakes the moon
that barely hangs on the midwinter’s western sky
to fall.
After so much abuse,
kicks, stamps, smacks, and blows of violent wind
that of more than she can bear
the frightened moon flees to south, then to east
with her paled and waning face,
and finally disappears somewhere
where no one will able to find her.
Total darkness covers the earth,
overwhelms to deny everything.
At the edge of this darkness
a somewhat eerie looking hunchbacked creature
[Although he was much intelligent,
yet tenderhearted, a man more sensitive
than the worldly-minded ordinary persons,]
comes and searches for the disappeared moon,
and when he finds
a segment of a shattered piece of moon on the earth,
he embraces it in his bosom with tears of joy,
and falls to the ground with his last breath.
And as a hunchback perishes
a young man with more holes
than the shattered pieces of fallen moon in his rungs,
who always whispered sadly to the waning moon
while leaning against a southward window frame,
comes and carries the hunchback’s remains hurriedly
in the cart to an eastern gateway, with gasping,
to the place where the full moon dwells, with panting.
I think I must be seeing things
Before me stand the four of kings,
They shuffle when the Bishop brings
Annette upon nine raven wings
And Beanie rides a sea serpent
And wonders where the yellow went;
I go to pay the next day’s rent,
Where have they taken my new tent?
The bandstand kids look like Dick Clark,
Turn on the lights, I’m in the dark,
I’m standing in Grand Central Park,
A worm has caught a purple lark
And Kookie has run out of combs
So rents out rooms in old maid’s homes,
He has B.O. where ere he roams
So buys some spray and sells his tomes,
To your friend Ralph, yes you know who,
The one who should be in a zoo;
He sells used cars upon the tube
To each and every simple boob
And if he gives you stomach ache
Then Alkaseltzer’s what you take
And Bufferin too if you’re a rake,
Thus hath the Johnny Carson spake
Do I need a cigarette?
A camel says before me yet
‘yes, Luckys is the brand to get,
Be a he man, don’t you fret’
‘there must be worser ways to die
So buy brand X, give it a try’;
Just then another bird walks up
And asks me what I feed my pup
Then puts a nickel in my cup
And tells me I am full of crup
Of where I am, I’m unaware;
Why are the people all so square?
Who is standing over there?
He says he’s here to take my fare
But I’m not going anywhere,
Besides I feel my pockets bare
‘Well then I guess you must have paid’
At this I start to get afraid,
I think my mind will start to fade,
Then Hogen’s Heros make a raid,
Upon my sensibilities
And now it’s clear why each eye sees
So many people climbing trees;
It aint because of hungry fleas
As Tarzan swings upon a rope
I find I start to give up hope;
Jack Webb has started smoking dope
So now the crooks no longer mope
And Perry Mason kicks a judge
But finds the law will never budge
Unless big business gives a nudge
To Popeye selling ice cream fudge
At this I really have to rush
To our old john so I can flush
So far away this vacant mush
Before my teeth I start to brush
Then Josephine comes to my view
And says ‘I want to talk to you
Have you scrubbed your sink anew?
Your mop I think needs some shampoo’
I said ‘I think you are the plumber
And no one else was ever dumber
You’ve put me on another bummer’
My feelings start to get much number
continued in part 2>
husband
didn’t pay attention when she started to change her look,
after all, she’d been saying how she wanted to for a while &
it seemed to make sense,
what with her going back to the gym full time,
after a period of time away
when they first had been married---
husband just went about his days
working more hours than he knew what to do with,
business was good &
with all the business around him seeming to fail,
he’d been putting away for the life he imagined in the future,
with or without
her---
but her time spent at the gym seemed to increase &
thought her body began to get trimmer, sexier, tighter, stronger &
she seemed to walk around the house with a new zest for life
(when he was there to see her),
he still didn’t notice that
the personal trainer had moved in---
she had said something to him,
but he was listening less & less
as he had more & more to worry about at work,
for it was all part of building his empire.
the personal trainer was a less successful man
by the standard that money can by,
but he listened to her
as he traced her curves with his fingers in the gym
with palms of his hand smoothly gliding over her muscles
making her body quiver &
it wasn’t long before in the car outside the gym
they consummated the professional relationship
again &
again &
again &
again.
as she began to show less interest in sex with her husband,
he wrote it off as a side-effect of marriage &
found himself a main squeeze on the side,
a 20 something who needed money to get her through college
with a perkiness that made him feel young again &
a body that wouldn’t quit---
as he grew more distant from the wife,
she grew closer to the personal trainer,
until the day when she brought him home to the house,
when she swore the husband would be gone.
husband found out the way a husband will
when husband had been no longer interested
until another shows his face, as it is only jealousy then
which kicks in, making husband suddenly care---
but personal trainer put husband on the ground
when husband came into his own bedroom
to find personal trainer banging away his bride
who now had no interest in husband---
husband sued the personal trainer for assault &
bride to be divorced husband, taking half of everything he had,
breaking his empire down to nothing
as he had been stupid enough to not require a prenup
at the beginning of it all.
A nobody
Scared by the sound of his own voice
Following the girl home from school
In his mind this is normal
Stalking girls
He grabs her jacket
Pulling her backwards unto the ground
Placing a cloth around her nose and mouth
Gagging her until she sleeps for a while
He drags her through the woods
Branches hitting her every which way he turns
Dragging her along until he reaches the cabin
Picking her up over his shoulders opening the door to the cellar
Locking the door behind him he walks down the stairs slowly
He places her on a chair and ties her wrist to the handles
Tying her feet to the legs of the chair
Tightening the rope around her neck to the back of the chair
He undresses her waiting for her to wake up
Several hours pass
She wakes up
Sweating and screaming
Crying and yelling at him
He places duct tape around her mouth
Placing a knife against her stomach
She groans and yelps
He takes the knife away and looks at her
Grabbing her face and telling her shes beautiful
He turns around and stands with his back towards her
As he starts to say
But its the beautiful people that need fixing
He takes the tape off her face and holds her chin tightly
He carves a smile on her face
Cutting her mouth from ear to ear
Telling her
Smile dear it makes you adorable
He grins and sits the knife down
Laughing as she bleeds
She tries to move her mouth
It just drops open
He looks at her smiling
Now that makes you truly beautiful
He leaves her there for a while
Later returning
Placing a needle with a string attached to it
Sticking it into the skin around her mouth that is hanging open
He stitches her back together
Cant make up his mind
He slaps her and leaves her there for another few days
She sits with her eyes peeled wide open
A tear falling as she tries wiggling her hand free from the rope
As she frees her hand she runs her fingers over her stitches
Only to find out her whole mouth has been stitched together
She cant speak
She can only mumble
She frees the rest of her limbs
Trying to stand up and walk but she's to weak and falls
He runs down the stairs
Yelling at her to get up
She doesn't move
He kicks her in the stomach
She doesn't budge
He picks her up and uses her as a puppet
For his own needs
He then buries her beside his other victims
Only to find out shes still alive
Her hand slips through the dirty old mud
5-28-2013
Life has thrown dirt on me, and I grew a wild flower.
A demon's knife cuts into my spirituality, and I watch my soul be devoured.
Open Bibles lay on my night stands, I keep crosses hanging over each bed.
In my mind I'm wondering wastelands, and I feel like the walking dead!
The emotional scars can't seem to heal, and I search frantically for a way out.
I know Satan is looking for a soul to steal, and so he challenges me to a 12 round bout!
He throws all my weaknesses at me; not one or two, but all at one time.
I indulge in adultery, pick up a gun, inhale some cocaine residue, and set out to commit a
crime!
His evil punches right through me, gripping my heart, and twisting it from side to side.
An upheaval crashes into my reality, tearing my world apart, pushing me closer to suicide!
He keeps a band of demons in my head, and they're doing pushups and jumping jacks in my
mind.
Tear stained cheeks from tears I've shed, and his attacks have left me mentally blind.
Out of the blue, I have a sudden desire to fight back.
I wipe away the cocaine residue, for in my chest the fire feels like a shot of cognac!
I pull my fiery sword from my spiritual backpack, and get in my battle stance.
Like bombs over Iraq, me and the devil begin to violently dance.
It is a dance of death, and I am determined to survive!
I refuse to let this entity take my last breath, and so my will kicks in to overdrive!
The blows from this devil staggers me, and I feel uneasy on my feet.
My sword begins to glow with a hot fury, and I can feel my hammering heartbeat.
I begin to shake with rage, and gripping my sword I go berserk.
This devil had all the powers of a battle mage, but I let my blade do the work!
Spiritually, mentally, I slice and dice this demonic foe.
I will not be this entities sacrifice, for I'm the last heir of Edgar Allen Poe.
I'm gaining spiritual momentum, but I refuse to stop.
As I destroy this devils evil system, I continue to conquer life's mountain top!
Suddenly this evil is banished in a puff of black smoke, never to be seen again.
I remove my blood soaked black cloak, and I feel as if I'm finally purged of my sin.
I now thirst for a new beginning, and the taste of life is sweet and sour.
A former loser, now focused on winning, and no longer am I a wilted wild flower!!