Long Mex Poems

Long Mex Poems. Below are the most popular long Mex by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mex poems by poem length and keyword.


Invocation of Pinkies In Air When Supping Or Drinking

I adopt dainty etiquette
when quenching thirst or dining
to buzzfeed growling beast
inside me tummy.

The missus requests obedience
raising both my little fingers in the air
upon taking beverage or repast to lips.

Additionally, she also requires I
(well healed husband who toes the line)
perform dance shuffle - think clog
feigning to trip over feet
as if yours truly quaffed to much grog
while balancing atop log.

Miss iz manners re: lee the spouse
sets prime example being lady like,
what with her belching and snorting
of course with mouthful of food
no surprise she nurtured impolite brood
raised on learning language crude

even this Geico caveman exhibits
less coarse attitude,
he likens himself to subdued dude
trying his darnedest (golly gee)
to avoid family feud

general behavior hashtagged as rude
linkedin with antics qualified as lewd
encouraged nsync while
slurping or masticating in the nude,
whereby other body sounds made
unsuitable for strait laced and prude

folks who don't take a fancy hearing
so called uncouth soundclouds exude
out body orifices considered foul,
inapropos and extremely lewd
when unless quarantined in solitude.

One upside of COVID-19
postprandial aural emanations
(all time favorite flatulence)
knows no outward bounds
unless colorectal explosions
register highest magnitude

when measured in concert
with handy dandy
blues clues rattle seismometer
and register courtesy
Richter Scale and the Mercalli Scale
direction and intensity of earthquakes.

Upon experiencing aforementioned prime mate
i.e. the bellowing gal offering herself as ahem
(pardon the double entendre) master bait,
I knew from the get go
Tex-Mex Connection

in North Wales, Pennsylvania
where we shared our first date
(outsize bean burritos)
I tooted my own horn,
she unwittingly got me into checkmate,
just for that her fate got sealed,

when our respective gametes
(ova and sperm cells respectively)
new life we did miraculously create
the first of two female offspring
would become housed in utero
and come to resemble

a spheroid somewhat oblate
even now unnamed counterpart,
(and partner in crime) still swell person
hook hood benefit to lose some weight,
cuz... well adipose freight
quite ample around equator.


Booby Trapped Within Apartment Unit B44

Lemme titillate thee
regarding myself daily soldiering thru breastworks
read out loud to experience where dangerfield lurks
twenty five years a husband unknown marital perks
bachelorhood to die for, cuz warp and weft
courtesy webbed and wedded bliss
incorporates life threatening quirks.

Hazardous beyond belief
analogous crossing a landmine good grief
ensnared yours truly mistaken for Baghdad thief.

Impossible mission to step up pace
when ambling one room to another
footfalls of generic guy approximating brisk,
cuz one misstep could find me flat on back
with damaged spinal disc
worse fate than experiencing
strong arms of law reach out his hands that frisk
old meister wordsmith
merely ventures innocent risk,
yet may as well surrender self to Taliban,
who would willingly whisk

Garden variety Caucasian American bloke
afraid to tread amidst belongings strewn
pell mell outranking rating tornado 5 courtesy
enhanced Fujita Scale
whereat Good Housekeeping ostracized spouse.

As precautionary safeguard, I carry amulet
to ward off ill luck toward life and limb you bet,
especially when gingerly
taking one step after another with lights turned off
owing steadfastness to prayerful debt
intoned toward guardian angel to get
self groping in dark without bifocals
envisioning severely myopic
(blind as a bat generic guy
without spectacles) met
bedded objective where
menagerie of stuffed animals
(albeit Woodstock favorite pseudo pet),
which aforementioned Peanuts character
called warm fuzzy as sobriquet.

The missus bursts out laughing,
whom I damnably scoff at and berate
as I trip head over heels
cursing said spouse ever since first date
at Tex-Mex restaurant
in North Wales, Pennsylvania,
a gut level intuitive sense -
even then our sealed fate
cursed analogously crashing thru Hades gate
antagonistic altercations in actuality
displaced suppressed anger toward parents,
which father and mother (both deceased)
their sole son of did hate
for afflicting psychological trauma
regarding them furiously irate
doling out ultimatums
interestingly enough comfort found
within company of loving mate,
she weaseled compassion
evidenced by poetic prattle I prate,
whereat ye can (of course) highly rate
feedback I eagerly await.
Form: Rhyme

Bob Learns His Nephew, Part I

Bob Robinson had been born in the ghetto,
and his childhood was not a nice thing,
single mother, just a teenager herself,
in a neighborhood known for gang-banging.

But Bob was a truly tenacious soul,
he got his first job and didn’t look back,
determined he’d never let himself become
a welfare case stuck addicted to crack.

Though he never had culinary schooling,
he learned much at the restaurants he worked,
until, at thirty, he opened his own,
his own place, his own menu, his own turf.

He had a great spot right by the highway
near a suburb that housed much big tech,
he just called it ‘Bob’s,’ and soon was known
for serving up the town’s finest Tex-mex.

Bob usually liked to be the bartender,
he met all sorts of near people that way,
life went smoothly, at least it did at first,
until his nephew was sent out to stay.

Jamal was the first of the family
to receive an offer to go to school,
a local four-year gave a scholarship,
since Jamal was anything but a fool.

Now Jamal did not want to wait tables,
but Bob fed him, since he was family,
and not long after he started classes
he began to behave aggressively.

Began to say folks were out to get him,
that the ‘system’ was rigged to his loss,
then pale-skin folks were all ‘keeping him down,’
would never let folk like him be the boss.

Now all this seemed quite bizarre to Bob,
he himself had seventeen employees,
but Jamal kept saying he was ‘oppressed,’
that he would fight as a minority.

For the first year Jamal was quite active,
never missed a rally of protest march,
but then when he got himself arrested
Bob worried the his path soon would get dark.

When he got off with community service
it seemed just to invigorate Jamal’s rage,
he started calling for ‘reparations’
for the actions of a dead and gone age.

He started spewing out Socialist tripe,
said private property only oppressed,
that all who took part in it were ‘slave-drivers,’
it all left Bob feeling more and more vexed.

Then when Jamal jabbed a finger at him,
and cussed out his fiancé for being pale,
Bob threatened to cut him off for his crap,
but his threats seemed to be of no avail...

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Form: Narrative

Flatulence Upon First Date

Upon the first date (decades ago) with the gal,
whose troth aye did pledge allegiance to wed
we agreed to dine at an ex-mex eatery
in north Wales, Pennsylvania, where angels feared to tread
carefully scrutinizing bon appétit the menu selection, 
a touch of Latin lick QED

all American version sans south of the border cuisine –
Quod Erat Demonstrand – translations spit out in rapid fire Hispanic
by a beady eyed inked kid named Ned
whose couture favored a punkish style
with spiked gelled green hair, piercings galore and
necklace with a genetically modified sizable
entombed glass encased amber ked

which beastly fully intact organism with a miniature grisly bear like head
momentarily hypnotizing me tell nudged out of trance sans this egghead
who make a selection by randomly 
landing finger on an item feigning to be well bred

unbeknownst to the arbitrary choice this senior made
within an ample number of mouthfuls
of beans and rice that quelled hunger pangs
mine lower gastrointestinal tract,

felt a bubbling sensation played
though impropriety struggled with gaseous mounting perturbations,
what promised to be hot malodorous, would induce an air raid
from this “wind bag”, whose saving grace divine, when wallet of suede
discover herd visa vis tubby devoid of cash, thus and excuse to beat the tirade
of volcanic eruption found me bolting
out the restaurant door fortunately not waylaid

and madly dashing (like some comet fiery dancer) 
performing a cheeky number hopping on one foot than the other – 
since forceful blast triggered kidneys to be tapped, thus prancer
two step extemporaneously incorporated while await the ATM to disburse cash
legal tender coveted akin to Cupid sprinkling spell of romancer
while expulsion of noxious fumes from thine sphincter from this hob er dasher

brought relief as aye nonchalantly strolled inside 
the cozy diner and slipped into me seat
disinclined to relate vents to future spouse,
the bodily aeration and stream of urine from me magic flute
which amazingly synchronized with the Maximus glute
from consuming food triggering tushy to toot.
Form: Blitz

July Twenty Fifth, Ninety Ninety Six

Xxvi+ marriage  anniversary (mine)
recalls first disastrous
date with future missus
approximately waltzing 
matt tilde two dozen
plus years ago

Tex Mex Connection
201 E Walnut Street
North Wales, Pennsylvania, 19454
every entree included beans
maybe refried or otherwise

effectively laid siege
mine delicate constitution
quickly felt bloated
ready to explode
ala Hindenburg Airship

rushed out restaurant
like bat out of hell
twofold purpose accomplished
desperately needed
to eliminate gaseous buildup

airing banal courtesy
yours truly as kapellmeister
aired rendition, viz Die Fledermaus
for sphincter muscle
hence, faster than Usain Bolt

dashed out front door
plus needed to tap MAC
inadequate wallet stash cash
thus, aye hightailed to nearest ATM,
or rather courtesy rectal explosion

blasted lovely gaseous body
analogously, effectively, gravity free
whizzing, whirring, whining balloon
a bit far afield
incidental bank woe

gastrointestinal directive resolved
forced effort taxed derriere
all told alight propulsion
natural gas fueled
lovely bones within flash

far surpassing long held
Guinness Book world's record
Jackass the ripper former
flatulence champion claimed,
nonetheless I safely landed far

from madding crowd
analogous pulling pin
out hand grenade
gluteus maximus burnt to crisp
necessitated immediate diversion

local drug store
purchased preparation H
discreetly patted, palmed, pacified
scorched cheeky bum
suffered first-degree burns

hemorrhoid cream balm
alleviated buttuck blasts fallout
quickly reunited with my gal
slightly concerned about whereabouts
related personal anecdote

tuckus thru remains of
otherwise humdrum hours
concluding asinine antics,
where approximately

half past monkey's ass
driving lass back home
found me exerting effort suppressing
recurring rumblies in domain tumbly.

Posterior script:
the above account
unsolicited plug for satisfied patron
asper jumpstarting behind the times
car rear ring buttuck blaster beastie boy.


My Origin

Where do I come from? Well we all come 
from somewhere. I was born in a small 
town, here in in good old U S of A. South 
to the border, by the Rio Grand. Mission 
Texas is the town's name.

My real parents came from Mexico. My
grandmother, it was said  - she came from 
Spain. My grandfather was indian. He fought 
in the Revolution. Both were on my mother's
side.

On my father's side, never knew too much, 
only that the grandmother died kind of 
young. The grandfather died years later, but
I never got to know them.

My father left my mom, when I was only three.
He never came back. My mother gave away my 
sisters, than later she gave me. She only kept
my brother, maybe she couldn't keep me.

I was raised with a nice lady and her husband.
I learned to call her mom. That title she had 
earned and my respect most of all. My parents
that raised me were poor, but made sure I had 
something to eat. My mother made my dresses 
so that I could go to school.

I learned to read and write and enjoyed school
very much, but I had to quit at fifteen to help my
parents out. Years later I went back and finished
my High School. 

I did not go to college , or mastered in any degree. 
I am what you might call self taught. For about thirty
years I worked with electronics and did my job well.
I gained respect from my bosses and high top
engineers.

My parents taught me good values that have helped 
me  through out life. I am not ashamed of my 
origin, of Mexican Heritage I came. I am what you
would call a TEX. MEX. and I live up to my name...

Just a little about myself. Hope
you enjoy it.

written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
Form: Bio

Premium Member Feline Alert

*The feline Texan way*

A clean coat of paint - on my nails
Red shade of lips - on my smile
Solid oak charms - on my wrist
Country music - around my core
Flattering eyes - a rustic shell.
Join me in a "Country Girls Tale"

~~

Every day I draw near the morning dawn, 
Abide by the landscape towards the new Texas sun
A track of yellow roses and cactus galore
I brand my name everywhere I travel
Allowing you near the bounds of my Wild West soul
I maintain it above the snake level everywhere I roll

Got my head up like a cowgirl, 
Men around my black leather chaps
I tilt my bull hide hat leaving behind a sweet Texas Trail
 
Driving down a midnight Texan storm
It takes more than raindrops to knock me from my-  “2-Steppin’ world.”
A windy ride, bruises under the hide taking it in like- “A Real Cowgirl!”
I got a tight hold on my saddle, holding on to a brighter morrow

Enjoying the voices and the sound
Tex-Mex lingo, round and round
Ropers and Wranglers are how I dress
I'm all covered, except for the top of my chest.

Living’ it up^, down here in the south.
Erin’ the lungs, shooting up the sport
Long necks’ and kissing under a rodeo’ moon. 
Honky-Tonk, tattooing the mockingbird.

Down here:
You will see me sitting on the Country ground,
Peacefully staring into the optics of the "Alamo Stars."
Falling with the art found in the flag I hold.
I am The Wild! 
I am The West!
“— A little dotty, but civilized!” 

Enjoying the morning breeze,
Where the dew sits on the tip of Mother Nature’s tongue.
There and only there you will find me,
Under the brightest Texas Star

Uncouth Operator

*This poem is sung to the music of Sade's seminal song, "Smooth Operator."


Intro:

He’s ranting with a spiteful hurl,
and taunting with a choler heart
Spewing crude statements, making lewd comments
He’s hated in seven languages
Zircon nights and silicon lights, sinthetic high in the sky
Hades help him, when he falls




Crass carat life, grifter boy
He crawls in space with hubris haste and mischievous joy
Backroom lights and back alley nights
Few do enquire his penthouse ire of shakedown heights

No place for losers or gullible hearts
when his diss enchantment wants to lip dance
Got head space for suckers with nowhere to pity park


Chorus:

Mo’ jeers to cast,
he’s an uncouth operator
Uncouth operator, uncouth operator
Uncouth operator

Roast to roast, NY to Fargo, vitriol rail
Across the Rio water 
and Mex border, to Amarillo, insults assail

He’s an uncouth operator
Uncouth operator, uncouth operator
Uncouth operator



Cobra face do debase,
he viper coax and venom tox
Boa greed to disgrace

A license to hate, annoyance to scold
Forge all your apathy pain into fools goad
His thoughts volcanic glow, but his words erupt cold


Chorus:  

No cheers to cast,
he’s an uncouth operator
Uncouth operator, uncouth operator
Uncouth operator

Roast to roast, NY to Fargo, vitriol rail
Across the Rio water 
and Mex border, to Amarillo, insults assail

Mo’ jeers to cast,
he’s an uncouth operator
Uncouth operator, uncouth operator
Uncouth operator
Form: Lyric

The Beast

The Beast  ( La Bestia )

You might wonder - who or what is the Beast?
The Beast in Spanish means - La Bestia. The
Beast is a cargo train that travels from Ciapas
Mex. - to Sonora Mex. 

Throughout the years alot of people have gotten 
on that train. They all come from Central America. 
They want to come to the U.S. to look for the 
American Dream.

The people call it - La Bestia, the train of Death and
the train of Hell. A lot of people have lost their lives
through out the years. They fall asleep and fall down
or fall trying to get on the train.

In the month of August of 2013, Ia Bestia derailed and 
a lot of boxcars went down. a lot of people lost their lives
fifteen were from Honduras. Others were seriously injured
and had to go to hospitals. Some had horrible deaths and
still others survived.

The people know about these dangers, but they still keep 
trying to come here. Now you know about The Beast, the 
train of Death and the train of Hell. It is easy for us to say 
why do they take those chances.

We already have our lives established here. If we go to other 
Countries - it would be for pleasure. Those people are very poor 
in their Countries and their Government don't help. I think that we
all have the right to pursue a better life. If we had been born there 
we would maybe do the same thing..... 

09/12/2013
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo

Goodbye Cruel World

Being the worlds chief of police
Is so overrated
With all that we do
And they all still hate us

We're only here 
To keep up the peace
Spread our name brand 
Of Democracy

If you don't love us
Then kindly leave us
If you don't trust us
Won't hurt our feelings believe us

We'll bring it to order
One way or another
Kick out the leaches
Close down the borders

Once that is done
And they're out on their bums
We'll build us a wall
From the North to South run

The only thing Canadian
That we will let in
Is Celine Dion
And their cheap medicine

And that little Chihuahua 
From down below
Cause we love Taco Bell's 
Mex food to go

As far as the Middle east
They can do as they please
We won't be around 
To kick sand in our face

We'll pull out of there
Our American troops
Not just a few of the lucky
But one hundred proof

They can fight it all out
Amongst themselves
If they stick with the program
There'll be nobody left

We'll turn in our nukes
We won't need them no more
As we won't be playing
In their silly wars

We will be by ourselves
Closed off from it all
Unplug the phone 
If they try to call

Live in our bubble
Stay out of trouble
No longer hang out
With that bunch of numskulls

So lock up the door
Turn out the light
Toss out the key
As we say goodbye..

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