Long Kiddie Poems
Long Kiddie Poems. Below are the most popular long Kiddie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kiddie poems by poem length and keyword.
I live in Leisure World where the grass is green,
and bunnies that munch it can always be seen.
For those little guys, it is essential
to breed fast, indeed, exponential.
So, a rabbit's life is never dull,
and their population is plentiful.
But, this ain't no kiddie cartoon show,
and every coyote that I happen to know
always makes it the strictest habit
to bag a furry bunny rabbit.
These canine delinquents and the crows, fast friends,
play, "who spots the rabbit first, wins".
Walking the sidewalks like shopping aisles,
coyotes are seen with contented smiles.
I say, "Bless their sly little hearts
and their bunny-filled shopping carts".
Gran and Gramps are BUM BUMS!
Standing beneath bouncy castle with hope and glee
Begging my Gran and Gramps to lift me up to see
The fun and exuberance of children taking a jump
Rolling into the middle like one big kiddie lump
Screams and giggles radiate through the air
Flying shoes, squished candy and knots of long hair
Children in chaos while adults swirl round
Bellowing “Be Careful or you might hit the ground”
I plead with Gran and Gramps in my best squeaky voice
To keep their big promise and give me the choice
To join in the fun and experience all the sites
They renege on their promise and gosh that bites
I crawl into the car with a big scowl on my face
Those two party-poopers are a child’s disgrace!
Riding home in silence and feeling so glum
I give them a nickname “Gran and Gramps Bum Bums”
Waving goodbye and as they drop me to the door
Dumb “Bum Bums” will be lucky to see me anymore!
"More Spongebob, Mimi"--this I hear
a dozen times a day.
How much more can I stand to see?
No more of this, I pray!
I turn the TV off and run
to fetch his favorite toys.
When he says, "Spongebob's much more fun,"
I must seek other ploys.
"A Krabby Patty's what I'd like,"
he says of noontime's meal.
The common lunch I fix the tyke,
he eyes with little zeal.
The Krusty Krab invades my sleep,
and Squidward haunts my dreams.
Those creatures from the ocean deep
won't leave me be, it seems.
Can cartoon sponges start a trend
of death by kiddie show?
If SpongeBob's laugh can cause the end,
I'll be the first to go.
rhyme scheme abab
July 26, 2016
Kindness - title and topic
(in free verse)
A small dog whimpers in the cold.
All he needs is some warmth –
the warmth of your heart,
a morsel of food, and a cuddle.
A little cat lonely by your porch,
gazes at you with sweet kitty eyes,
meowing and meowing for a dish of food.
Maybe she is lost and wanting a snuggle
from a person whom she has gone missing from!
We all feel miserable at times.
Maybe we have fallen on hard times.
Maybe we have simply had terrible day.
Sometimes all we need
are sympathetic words, a nice hot meal,
and the gentle touch of a loved one’s hand.
puppies and kitties
and the kiddie inside us all -
Sometimes we simply hunger
For kindness.
Kindness - title and topic
(Rewritten as a quatern)
Sometime kindness is all souls need.
Think of a puppy wandering.
Give him shelter; cuddle and feed
this pup! It takes no pondering.
Think of lost kitties at your door.
Sometimes kindness is all souls need.
With pitiful mews they implore
that with comfort you pay them heed.
Why are so many filled with greed?
Destitute souls wander on streets.
Sometimes kindness is all souls need -
some warmth, some food, a bed with sheets.
Reach out to someone who feels blue.
Each day we can do a good deed.
Sweet words alone might even do!
Sometimes kindness is all souls need.
Are we going to be pruned now like limbs left exposed naked to the elements?*
He is just a simple man
born and raised in middle America,
loves God, country, family and apple pie,
but raising his voice in public,
in Constitutionally protected
free speech, to protest Marxist idiology
taking over his government
has labeled him a potential
domestic terrorist.
The edict has gone out
from those on high to alert the minions
in Intelligence- FBI, DHS
(isn't that what the Patriot Act
is all about).
Any who disagree with "progressive" thought will be pruned from society.
Citizens do not speak out,
do not question
Socialist/Communist/Marxist
maxims infecting every thought
from Congress to school boards
to neighborhood stores!
Inflation, shipping disruptions,
illegal immigration by the millions, Afghanistan debacle, kiddie p*rn in public schools,
abortion on demand; zero through the day of birth.
Terminate the employment
of un-vaccinated nurses, doctors,
flight attendants, pilots
mother's-to-be and those with natural immunity.
No religious or health exemptions.
Keep them out of public places.
While the President says
"No worries, all is well, all is well."
Just embrace the Great Reset!
Woe is me!
"Show me your papers please!"
Arrested and thrown in jail, without bail
for daring to repeat this thought:
If freedom of speech is taken away, then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.”**
*Victor David Hanson
**George Washington
I apologize at any unintentional
flagitious, egregious,
deleterious et cetera and
atrocious (asper wording),
which accidental faux pas
toward an allpoetry participant
named skypriceireland, who brand
did me with
crookedly unflattering feedback,
and practically demand
did, an explanation,
which hoop fully
clarifies intended feedback,
thus aye expand
utmost sincerity and perceives
how my anger got fanned
when purposeful intent grand
lee and roundly surmising
if the Jesse (un-named child) referenced
in the poem played
an influential invisible hand
as the whims of children
can be so inventive
absent any parental oversight
to inveigle being baited
from kiddie make believe island
a desired outcome, rather
exclaim with com manned
double delight at such un-planned
Hi Yo Silver braying ejaculation,
thus upon this
expostulation I stand.
...In stretches down to my own life,
childhood back in the 80s,
all the amusement parks once here,
very few are still to see.
The western town has stayed quiet,
I think they still rent it sometimes;
and there’s something say in the sight
of long derelict waterslides.
I still remember their theme tune,
lost tribute to pleasures no more;
and down the road a kiddie park
where they once had a diving horse.
The last ones hit the hardest since
they come from memories I have,
I see their shadows when I walk,
knowledge of the past like a salve.
Like three times that just coexist
within this one place, I do find
myself seeing and endless chain
shaped by a succession of minds.
The richness adds a weight to things,
a depth that still somehow persists;
history means you walk with ghosts,
not the kind you fear, but cherish.
To diary:
Mama, by now, I suspect you are on my trail
to Phoenix, however I do think you figured
it all out-the red herrings... and are instead
on the right path to Seattle. A part me wants
to challenge you. As much as you are in
pursuit of me, I am in pursuit of reading
about Evelyn Lau, teenage runaway and poet...
for the second time.
To diary:
I Got tree sap, aka hotel front desk worker,
for another blanket. It's too easy, mama. Watch."Ma'am,
my mother in room 101 request a blanket and pillow,"
and like clockwork she gave it to me, then I pause,
"ma'am can we also get some toothbrushes and toothpaste"
and like clockwork she gave it to me. What a tree sap.
Although this time our eyes met and I think she's onto
me. But that didn't stop me from taking a green apple
and newspaper. mama, let me tell you these come in
handy... let me tell you... oh, oh i just figured it
out, the lobby's the first floor there can't be a room
101. She's playing me. What else is new.
Today I went to the library
sitting at a nook
quite contrary
reading a book
the staff was cold as ice
i say screw the kiddie section
my answer not so nice
why is this the wrong direction
it's hard being eleven
where their prying eyes
on me being adult smart
they try to befriend and spy
the books I read
the information I consort
the knowledge I feed
the ideologies I support
baby girl plays the sham
changing the Lau book
with green eggs and ham
and returning their looks
this is all too irony
sleeping on the streets
dealing with their tyranny
and trying to be upbeat
I pass these books and nooks
I say She who forges her own path
being mistook
wields her own fate
with upending wrath
to being one of the greats
Paris Pachecho
connie pachecho
12/30/16
I am NOT a big fan of winter
Though I'm Canadian by birth
Nothing will ever change that
Till they take me away in a hearse
Nothing lives, everything dies
The land is blanketed with snow
We hibernate inside our homes
Till flowers of spring start to show
You'd think being born in Canada
I'd surely be a wintery type chap
On the contrary my very good friends
Get through by nap after nap
Seventy-eight winters is far too many
To ask it of anyone to endure
Done my tour of duty, I want out
Living south would be a cure
Can you tell I'm NOT a fan of winter
With it's snow and slippery ice
Used to love it when I was a wee kiddie
Hibernate is my advice
© Jack Ellison 2013
Many do not love my direct way
They shy from the truth
many just loved my looks
in my happy youth
some liked the achievements i had and wanted in on my fame
And some thought what I did for a living was kiddie stuff and kind of lame
So it's a conundrum you see, when you talk about me
It's up down sideways philosophy
I am never stagnant and forever growing
and the depth of who and what I am is possibility overflowing
I have walked through fire
and I am full of desire
And I create at the drop of a hat
and in minutes spit out a new artistic rap
My muse is now inside me
and fuels me from within
And my life is invigorated
I know I don't live by whim
Its purpose plan and accomplishment
which will drive my final goals
A story to tell the world
that as of yet was untold
And that my dear is a poem 12-4-23 Artimus (C) Susan Manley