Long Maserati Poems
Long Maserati Poems. Below are the most popular long Maserati by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Maserati poems by poem length and keyword.
The sixth of July, the postman passed by
The stork brought little old me
Come rain or come shine I’d want to know ‘why?’
And wrote my name when I was three
I’d read and I’d write whatever the weather
But now I can’t string words together
And as such...
I don’t want a massive party
I don’t want a Maserati
Or birthday cards crammed in a sack
Nor a gizmo that makes coffee
Or a box of Devon toffee
I only wanna get my muse back
Don’t want no Hi Karate
Or a date with someone tarty
(Although she might invigorate my rhyme)
Don’t want no garage racking
Or a gift in birthday wrapping
Or special treats in some exotic clime
I need to scribble something
But I’m sat here like a dumb thing
This birthday boy’s brain is aslumber
Why not, someone says
Recount your birthdays
But I can’t remember the number
So...
Happy birthday to me
Now THAT’S irony
If it’s laughter that you’re after
Today, that’s not me
Unless...
This birthday cake that I have made
Turned out to be a bit flambéed
It just couldn't handle
This year’s extra candle
So here comes the fire brigade
We had;
Interlude and
of Mice and men.
A star is born and
Gone with the wind.
A child bride and
The Wizard of Oz.
Cocaine Fiends and
Sweeney Todd.
The Jaguar and
The gay divorcee.
The Marx brothers
And the Maserati.
79 Park Ave and
Mannequin.
The Porsche and
Erroll Flynn.
The Rolls Royce and
Curly top.
John Wayne and
King Porter stomp.
The Packard and
Hilo Hawaii.
Gary Cooper and
The Bugatti.
Frankenstein and
The Alfa Romeo
The Fiat and
Abbott and Costello.
The BMW and
Eternal call.
The Lone Ranger and
All creatures great
and small.
The Bentley and
Agent Carter.
The Green hornet
And Days of Honor.
An Indian summer
And The Duesenberg.
Greta Garbo and
The Thorn Birds.
Turbo1904?
The Gardener
She’s twenty-three and he’s eighty-six
He walks with a Zimmer, she watches Netflix
He has a mansion and a Maserati car
She has her diamonds and uplifting bra
They have a gardener, Chatterley like
He calls her miss, she calls him Mike
The Zimmer frame plods, slow to react
The house has a mystery, lover’s pact.
She shops online for all she desires
Mike cuts the wood, mends fences, builds fires
The Zimmer makes its way until out of sight
She fills up with chocolate, champagne and sprite
Mike is now naked stripped to the bone
The Zimmer appears a long way from home
The Gardener obliges and helps him undress
Kissing together out of sight of the press
She buys designer clothes, Armani, Dior
He is quite happy when she asks for more
The paperazzi claim, she’s dug up her gold!
Zimmer loves the gardener his story’s untold.
David Cox 17/06/20
I came home the other day and my Ole lady wuz like..I thought you was getting ah maserati,i'm not riding in that. I replied, I went to my buddy's carlot and he said he don't get those maserati cars too often..anyways my mechanic of some 30 years said he ain't too sure he knows how to work on a maserati car with that Ferrari engine in it.so my Ole lady mouth all stuck out still huffin and puffin she say you had me all ah glow-cruise to my friends and show-off that is,we may as well drive to the local farm and pick up some ducks in this Ole pick up truck.I
replied back in the day this ride would have been okay..come now let's not fight you know whut my credit is like don't worry honey sooner or later and down the road and not too far umma go to my buddy's carlot and git that maserati car.
I make a perfect dry martini,
I read and write and speak Français,
All my suits, and shirts, and shoes are custom-made.
I own a Porsche and Maserati,
A house on Acapulco Bay
With scores of floors of marble tile that's all inlaid.
I have a staff to fetch and carry,
My every wish is their command,
If I drop things, I just leave them where they lay.
All I need do is snap my fingers,
Someone's always close at hand,
And they look after Señor Jim in every way.
I host the most elaborate soirées,
They're in society's upper niche,
On my birthday and, of course, on New Year's Eve,
Where the hoi polloi and high-born
Mingle with the nouveau riche,
And they're all the better for it when they leave.
This all may seem a bit pretentious,
And I don't mean to self-inflate,
For wealth and fame, of course, do not equate with happiness,
But in my dreams my alter ego
Will oftentimes exaggerate
And make seem real what, to be sure, is pure "b..s".
You may find this hard to believe
But I just saw a monkey
Drive by me doing eighty
In a Maserati
Eating rainbow ice cream
In a cone from Dairy Queen
I don't mean to sound mean
But should a monkey be eating ice cream
Just then I saw a cat
Right before he went splat
Jaywalking will often do that
And that my friend is straight up fact
The monkey swerved to avoid him
That's when he lost control and
Into a brick wall he slammed
As the ice cream went a flying
Since a cat has nine lives
He came to quite surprised
As Keith Richards does most nights
The ice cream landed just right
The monkey's now in heaven
The cat is ice cream licking
The Maserati is a has been
So I guess this must be the end
What do you get for the Man,
That's parlayed a yacht or two?
He's flashing the perfect tan,
Wearing diamond studded shoes!
The women he dates are fakes,
But, still have some style and grace.
They'll do whatever it takes,
Like pancake or peel their face!
Got a mansion in the West,
And a mansion in the East.
Dining only on the best,
On the rest he plans to feast!
Well, you know he loves to boast,
Those new "Tatts" on his body.
But, which one he loves the most,
His Porsche or Maserati?
At the gym he does the plank,
At Casinos loves to bet.
If he ever breaks the bank,
He'll just buy another jet!
Doodled oodles of Poodles,
But, he's tired and he's bored!
Might think our noodle's doodled,
Here's a doodle not explored!
Commodity Clones, DePaul,
We're willing and we're able.
If your heart should ever stall,
Put a new one on the table!
If your liver has been pickled,
By the finest wines in France.
And vintage only trickled,
Put a new one in your pants!
So, you harbor a "wee" crush,
On first or second cousin.
No need for you to blush,
We'll clone her by the dozen!
Now, back home from the "Island,"
Yum! The sushi was sublime.
The maids, they left you smilin',
By takin' two at a time!
A doobie soon relaxes,
Your accountant's at the door.
But, what the Hell are "Taxes?"
Never heard of them before!
Yep, there's one name you can "Trust,"
DePaul's Commodity Clones!
We might rifle thru your dust,
Hell, might even clone your Bones!