Long Laddie Poems
Long Laddie Poems. Below are the most popular long Laddie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Laddie poems by poem length and keyword.
Misty muted days in Scotland
part before you
making room for your own silence.
Now Beinn Mhòr's summit is under my feet
There was no spectacle,
no one to shake hands with.
Yet as I stood, shakily at the top,
looking down
upon 'Loch na Keal' far below,
I felt like a real climber.
That night back at an Isle of Mull pub
an old timer,
(a small dog at his feet),
leaned toward me.
He appeared to be blind
and used a white stick.
He politely inquired
had I gained the peak?
With some pride I declared
that I had conjured the mountain!
He supped his beer thoughtfully.
”Aye laddie,
tis good to stretch yor legs a bit,
I used to climb her twice a day
but yer see
yon wee dog is getting old noo.”
I paid for his ale and quietly left.
Poured a wee dram for my friend Farmer Fred.
He just kept on shaking his head.
What’s with the head I inquired of Fred?
Sit down laddie for ya might just swoon,
When I tell ya what happened to me this very afternoon.
Whilst selling my wares down at the fair,
A lovely young lass with a head of red hair,
Wandered up and gives the wares a stare.
I greeted her in my customary way.
Good afternoon lassie you look lovely today,
Might I help you in some particular way?
Now she looks up and gives me a scowl.
I judged her humor t’was a bit fowl.
I thought I might brighten her day
With a grand compliment paid.
Lassie your hair is both beautiful and grand.
Then her scowl scrammed, and she began to howl.
Called me all manner of beast and pariah.
Her face turned red as if it were on fire.
Minutes passed before her tirade did expire.
Made me regret the cordial things I had said.
I sincerely hope that lassie is never wed.
Ill tempered heifers should never be bred!
It’s been years since 9/11
they’re much older now…and grey
but they remember every moment
as if it happened yesterday:
Three old fire fighters regularly meet at the corner…
telling their story to anyone who’ll listen
They narrate with such intensity…
the sweat on their brows will glisten.
A young boy asked them this question…
(with his mother hoping it wouldn’t upset them)
“Do you keep repeating your stories,” he asked
“so you will not forget them?”
“No laddie.” one of the men chuckled…
“your thinking’s misbegotten…
It’s not so we won’t forget.” he said.
It’s so it’ll never be forgotten.”
Thought, with intelligence? When?
How about the proof?
Setting fire to where and when?
Devil, art aloof?
Fire inspiration, thy pun.
What to do for fun?
Good sense, laddie, and reason!
Fly not close to sun!
Cold fusion, thy harpsichord.
Crystal glass a-flow.
Demon -sultan, fife and sword!
Hell and Heaven, row...
Toil and turmoil, tamarind.
Dappled roes a-fly.
O Reality, how ye thinned!
Grinned the gangrel Sly!
Water of the chasm deep?
Haunts within the sleep.
Void, abyss, around step creep!
Dragons, time to reap!
Vampires, paint thy eyes black!
Do not face the day!
Spend thy life holed not in crack!
Poisonous to pay...
Coals of dark fire, sing in me!
Fling, O fancy-free!
Dynamite and destiny!
Stay awake for she...
Bosom friend’s bean feast.
Delightfully enjoying fun filled jamboree.
Graceful tall laddie appearing darkly menacing.
Sat bolt upright with his eyes bored into me.
My mind was still, yet fixed at his stare.
Just then I noticed something unfair!
He was holding his phone vertically,
Phone camera exactly facing me.
Nonplussed and not sure how to react!
Wasted no time, trotted up to him,
To see, what was on the screen.
Yes, there was something, which he slid hurriedly.
I wanted to, but could not snatch the phone.
Still I wanted him to know!
“Look when, in a public place,
Ethically one shouldn’t keep the phone in a way,
That the lady sitting right in front, gets into sceptical purvey!”
“It’s a democracy, how I keep it, is my choice!”
He oozed out the content of his brain.
“Yes, but the rights granted, carry along some responsibilities,
Your ethical impunity, my dear isn’t a synonym of democracy.”
I retaliated harshly!
And the feud ended with a simple “Sorry.”
But the question, that remains is,
“Is it not, an abuse of rights?”
“when we are right, why do we need to justify?”
Why can't we remain morally upright?
Worrisome male pattern baldness
never recedes from forefront of mine noggin.
Though loss of hair
NOT characteristic within genes,
nor hearty chromosomes,
nevertheless, anxiety prevails,
that yours truly will witness bald pate.
Additionally his mood directly
linkedin with plethora of irrational notions,
whereby such groundless, mindless, rootless...
senseless thoughts underlie and sway moody blues
of super tramping fo fighting beastie boy.
After richly lathering and
thoroughly massaging aging scalp
constituting head property one very familiar
long haired pencil necked geek,
I subsequently rinse out shampoo
and proceed to shake out matted hair
back and forth to and fro
(think whiplash) goes sodden crown
even thee missus coon sitters me a freak.
In the mane, I seek to emulate a puff (fee) daddy,
(albeit with spindleshanks for legs),
the laughing stock of mankind,
no more muscular since being a wee little laddie.
Euphoria and joie de vivre harkened
likened to when angels sing
nsync with me, a yankee doodle dandy
IF freshly washed golden locks
fluff up like cotton candy
other disgruntlement arises
spurring yours truly to drown sorrows
courtesy one hundred proof brandy.
Early morn' the clicking of clogs on the cobbled streets
The fish baskets collecting, on these cold harbour walls
It is here the fish wives gather for their morning greets
These fish; fresh as can be, from the fishermen’s hauls
The fish baskets collecting, on these cold harbour walls
To be gutted; and, beheaded, by fully skilled fish wives
These fish; fresh as can be, from the fishermen’s hauls
Laddie; sitting with his wheel, to sharpen up the knives
To be gutted; and, beheaded, by fully skilled fish wives
Gossiping their ails and, complaining of their own strife
Laddie; sitting with his wheel, to sharpen up the knives
Whose sharpen tongues, be as sharp as their own knife
Gossiping their ails, and complaining of their own strife
While others sing songs; as if to cover up their whining
Whose sharpen tongues, be as sharp as their own knife
To declaring their recipes; as to add zest to their dining
While others sing songs, as if to cover up their whining
The girls collecting the heads, to be put into fish broths
To declaring their recipes, as to add zest to their dining
For some best of fish to as be hidden under apron cloth
The girls collecting the heads, to be put into fish broths
As hungry seagulls scavenging to find something to eat
For some best of fish to as be hidden under apron cloth
With dogs and children as fighting at the fish wives feet
As hungry seagulls scavenging to find something to eat
It is here the fish wives gather for their morning greets
With dogs and children as fighting at the fish wives feet
Early morn'; the clicking of clogs on the cobbles streets
He rode a horse he got thrown off
Onto the ground his head hit first
In a pile of manure horses pie
On top of his head he lie
Looked like a derby hat yah!
Getty-ap
Laddie look like a hat he wore
But it was just a pile of manure
She was a fair black lady
At the hair dresser
The weather man say yesterday
It’s gonna be sunny and bright
Yet, when the young lady left out the hair dresser
It thundered and began to rain
Uncovered her hair got wet frizzled and fuff-up
She looked like a cotton ball, now all wet she wore a afro
Lasses look like she wearin a British hat
2/14/24
For Put Yer Funny Hats On Laddies (Lasses Too) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tom Woody
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Since you are so fat,
How do you slide down chimneys? Please answer me that!"
"Well, it ain't easy laddie since I am quite obese!
But I wriggles and squirms and apply lots of elbow grease!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How do the reindeer fly?"
"They wiggles their ears and swishes their tails to soar thro' the sky!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How do you know if I've been good or bad?"
"Ho! Ho! I know alright 'cause I check with your Mom and Dad!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Why does Rudolph have a shiny red nose?"
"It is his secret alone and that even to me he will not disclose!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Is your favorite snack cookies and milk?"
"If I had my druthers, I prefer salami and cheese, things of that ilk!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! How fast is your sleigh?"
"Fast enough to circle the whole earth on each Christmas Day!"
"Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Will you please come again next year?"
"Yes, my boy, and for years and years to come, never you fear!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Christmas Day 2017
It was halftime of the football game
Grabbed an umbrella and strolled down the lane
Saw Farmer Fred out singing in the rain
These were the words of his refrain
Where have all the voters gone?
Hard time knowing
Where have all the voters gone?
Four years ago
Where have all the voters gone?
The Dems have lost them everyone
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Where have all the Democrats gone?
Hard time knowing
Where have all the Democrats gone?
Four years ago
Where have all the Democrats gone?
They denied the fraud, everyone
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Where have all the honest ones gone?
Hard time knowing
Where have all the honest ones gone?
Four years ago
Where have all the honest ones gone?
They all cry in unison
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn?
When he had finished the last note
I inquired about the lyrics he wrote
Per chance are you gloating
About the outcome of the voting
Oh no laddie, let me explain
The motives of my refrain
It’s the numbers I see
That make my heart grieve
(Biden in 2020, 81,283, 501 votes)
(Harris in 2024, 71,239,698 votes)
Ten million Democrat voters have gone missing
Yet the political pundits keep on insisting
There is no evidence of election fraud
They claim it’s all misogyny and racism, by God
If that is the case and if that is so
I guess it could explain why so many supported old white man Joe
Ten million democrats won’t vote for a women of color
I don’t buy it, but so says “big brother”
I think it was a rigged game
By the way, Trumps votes remained quite the same
(Trump in 2020, 74,223,975 votes)
(Trump in 2024, 74,834,220 votes)