Long Moe Poems

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


Premium Member A Conversation With the Three Stooges

I Am: Hello guys it’s an honor, fellows

Moe:  HELLO! 
Larry: HELLO!
Curly: HELLO!  
The Three Stooges:  HELLOS!

I Am:  You’re known as half-wits, birdbrains, knuckleheads, 
           Curly, you’re known as Porky pine, right?  
           As a little girl I never appreciated rough-housing humor.  
           Moe a mean man and you weren’t very bright
           I did adore Curly with sisterly affection.

Curly:  You ain’t half bad yourself toots! With my reclamation
Moe:    Remind me to kill you later, hmm, maybe strangulation
Curly:  OK, I’ll make a note of it! Can’t make me worry
Larry:  Stick up for yourself Curly!
Moe:    Yeah, what do you have to say?
Curly:   Well, I oughta—tell ya another day
Moe:    You oughta what? Have some finess
Curly:   I oughta mind my own business
Moe:    That’s better!  Porky Pine

I Am:  Moe, would you take another question of mine?

Moe:   Yeah, make it snappy, 
Larry: Moe’s always been too slap happy
I AM:  Were you at one time called Ted Healy’s Racketeers?
Moe:  The Southern Gent’s, knucklehead! Like the Three Musketeers

I Am:  Your genres are farce, slapstick, musical comedy
          Curly is the schlemiel—stupid, childish, and clumsy. 
          Larry is the schlimazel because he's not quite as stupid
          but still ends up unlucky with cupid. 
          Moe, are you the aggressive and short-tempered leader of you three?

Curly:  Why coitainly
Moe:   The lady, you imbecile, is talking to me, 
Curly:  Hey, I resemble that remark!
Curly:  Hey Moe, I can’t see! I can’t see!
Moe:    Why’s that? Is it too dark? 
Curly:  ‘Cuz I have my eyes closed! 
Moe:    Wait’ll I punch you in the nose!

I Am:  My best Three Stooges episodes were—Brideless Groom,
          Disorder in the Court, Malice in the Palace, Sing a Song of Six Pants, 
          and Heavenly Daze

Larry: That’s five. Miss I Am are you in a haze?
Moe:   Yeah Genius!  

I Am:  Thank you for your calculation, I quess
I Am:  Do any one of you have a real job anywhere?

Curly:  Why coitainly, I just got a job in a bakery
Moe:    You never told me that numskull.  What do you do there?
Curly:  I’m a loafer!
Larry:  That’s not surprising, and tell her you were a chauffer

I Am:  Goodnight “Three Stooges” Love and Luck

Curly:  Asta! NYUK! NYUK! NYUK!
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Styrofoam

1/27/21
"Styrofoam"

It's not hormones, testosterone
Or Pheromones
I was at the crossroads
Moved towards what was familiar or unknown
Never did any good to postpone
I can really feel it in my bones
Nearby all these Madrones

Time has shown
In and out of all these biomes
The elements shaping the land and stones

Hung up the phone
Then came the dial tone

I've sinned, and I've atoned
I regressed, and I have grown

Sippin’ out of Styrofoam
In and out of different tidal zones
Had to get it on my own

It almost always was homicide if their was a broken Hyoid bone
It was always kept a secret or widely known

They're really focused on drones
And clones
Yet they also want to continually probe
And spy on the entire globe

Was close to the cosmos
As well as the locker of Davy Jones

From here to Nome
Always been a rogue
After the motherlode
Sometimes I was on paved streets, or often I was on dirt roads
Staying composed
Solving problems with or without the use of codes
Before the doors are closed
Meanwhile, people still having continual episodes

Got it done smoothly, or I just bulldozed
Those
That attempted to oppose
And stick their nose
Into my business, that's a no
Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe
Catch a tiger by the toe
Took them out with the undertow
Quickly they sunk below

Or by going blow for blow
A.K.A. Toe to toe
The same could be said for many, including so and so

The flesh and organs beginning to decompose
Food for insects, vultures and crows

It's not a hoax
Did the least or I did the most
Put it out there or was a ghost
Got it done easily or cut it close
It's gross
Far too often was comatose
Because I overdosed
Couldn't stop myself, or follow advice from my folks
I know, what a joke
Even though I've been woke
I couldn't stop my addictions, or say "Adios!"

More than just words being wrote
It'd do you some good to take note
Humans at each others throats
Quick to gloat
And to go right for the throat
Especially over your affiliation and how you vote

I either did or didn't have a rain coat
Humans quick to find a scapegoat
We either were or were not in the same boat

Stood sturdy like an oak
Behind continual clouds of smoke
And enough alcohol to make a moat
So that a boat could stay afloat
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Looking For Elvis

While looking for Elvis
Met Nessie in Loch Ness
Hoarding a leprechauns pot of gold

While getting ready to depart
I tripped over the Lost Ark
In the baggage of a hitchhiking Pharaoh

Thought I had got lost in flight
Stumble into Camelot at night
King Arthur shooting Robin Hood's arrows

Little green men from Mars
Battling a dragon with bumper cars
Jumping on my unicorn I rode

Diving into the Ocean
The mermaids gave me notions
My search for Elvis was getting cold

Swam down to Atlantis in the Atlantic
Dine at Poseidon's banquet
He had a big Roman nose

Cruising the Devil's Triangle
Being careful for any angle
I try to assassinate Castro

No money for the Florida toll booth
I wander into the Flountain of Youth
I look much younger so I'm told

On my way to Colorado
I kiss the Indian Princess of El Dorado
They can keep their entire treasure load

I saw Jimmy Hoffa eating a hot dog
While sitting with Big Foot on a redwood log
They were both getting pretty old

Went over to Memphis
Back through Las Vegas
My search for Elvis was about to fold

Than an angel named Gabriel
Told me about the new guy down at the stable
So I flew off to Shangri-la with pilot Joe

Our wings iced without warning
Damn this damn Global warming
Flying over Santa and a Chinese Viking Eskimo

We crashed landed in Xanadu
Met a few people we both knew
But Elvis left so I was told

With my new friend Yeti
We shared a big bowl of spaghetti
Amelia Earhart cooked and sold

Round the Garden of Eden
I traded an apple for freedom
From the lost tribes of Isreal though

On Mount Olympus I heard singing
The voice of Elvis reigning
I found the King of Rock and Roll

We ate a fried banana peanut butter sandwich
Elvis offer me the last bite of his sandwich
I politely refused I couldn't be so bold

Before I could ask Elvis as such
He rose and said "Thank you very much"
The answers I needed were put on hold

"Beam me up Scottie" he quipped
Than in a flash he was on the Mother Ship
And I turn and saw my friend little Moe

Area 51 is where that saucer came from
In Noah's Ark we drank wine and hard rum
Finding Elvis I am no hero

Looking for Elvis is half the fun
Its the trip that ends where it begun
Down in Dallas on a grassy knoll
Form: Rhyme

Apology

Dear  mother  earth,i  came  but  now  ive  regret my  coming,   who  brought  me  
is  dead  and  gone  leaving  me  to  roam  causing  a  lot  of  crime  against  
humanity.
I  do  know  the    dangers  ive  caused,  the  lives  ive  wrecked, the  future  ive  
destroyed,i'm  feeling  very bad  for  the  sorrows  am  inflicting  on  so  many  
people .
Dear  mother  earth  please  tell  your   kids  i'm  around  ,let  them  stop  taking  
risks  to  there   graves.
Mam   tell  the  young  ladies  that  are    carrying  me  that  there  is  moe to  life  
than  me.
To the   young  men  i  say  your  future  is   still   bright  and  sparkling  you  can  
still  make  impact  and  transform  others  that  may  want  to  think  i'm  not  
around.
To  my   angels,the  kids,  just  ignore  me  and   think  of  what  you  will  become  
in  the  future  ,above  all  forgive  your  parents  ,its  not  there  fault  neither  mine  
but  those  that   brought  me.
To  the  single  parents  i  hate  taking  your  mother  or  father,husband  or  wife  
away  please forgive  me  and  always   cherish  their  memories.
To  the  orphans  i  cant  confront  you  to   say  sorry  ,please  mother  earth  beg  
for  mercy  for me  and  tell  them  i'm  terribly  sorry.
To  the  world  at  large  i  say  i  hate  being  around  causing  you  the  pains  i'm  
causing  you  at  present.
For  the  sake  of  humanity  and  especially  the  orphans  here  is  what  to  do  
to  get  rid  of  me,
Know  i'm  around,live  safe  in  all  aspect,and  for the  sake  of  humanity  here  
are  the  things  to  do  written  on  my  back.
"I  want  to go  back  please  help  me  to  go  back  i  know  i'm  not  welcome  
and  please  dont  welcome  me  .A-abstain  from  all  risky  practices
                                                             B-be  faithfull  to  yourself  and  others.
                                                             C-concious  use  of  condoms.
                                                             D-discipline  your  self  .
                                                             E-educate  yourself  and  others.
 Yours   sincerely  Hiv/Aids.
Form:

Conscience

I’ve been stuck on the back of your mind for years
Trying to develop a pattern that is within your thought process
See you were my first project..
Not that I had any other options, but I was kind of indirectly assigned to you
Funny thing is that you might not ever know because I have different identities
You see I’ve been trying to develop a relationship with you
Something sort of secretive because if I told you then your mind would not be able 
to comprehend
I mean your mind is my best friend so I guess that makes me part of your cerebrum
In a way I AM a part of your thought process
Sometimes you meet me, and sometimes you don’t
What I’ve done is watch your actions grow but not you yourself
Trying to play (beanie mean my-knee Moe) with your emotions to see which ones to 
play tag with
Your decisions expand but your reasoning seems to diminish over time
You tend to act upon emotion but not motion itself
See I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’ve watched all of your mistakes
Desperately SCREAMING at you so that I can prevent another one from happening
I’ve been trying to stop the influences that bring you in circles…….
I am the one who’s been telling you right from wrong and sometimes left…you 
between the ups and downs
My voice has been keeping you from committing verbal suicide, and going on a 
mental pause
It is my voice that has been stopping you from messing with those people, in that 
place, with those things, at the same price with the pace of a million nothings
It is I who has been telling you from the start to never trust what you can’t believe 
in but also act within reason
But yet like always you ignore me…
You neglect my advice and the paths that I try to lead you on
You tell yourself things as if to mimic my existence
Often times you would feel good about your decisions but I will always be knocking 
on your door
You have been close to reaching a point where everything makes sense
Where you have analyzed things and pick them apart so nothing seems out of the 
ordinary
But you ignore that little sense of reasoning and then dust it away with ignorance

I am........... your conscience



.
Form:


Six of Three and a Couple Extra For Me

Richard clerihewed me yesterday
Why the nerve, I should have got him first I say
Then I laugh still wondering if clerihewed is a word
Realizing that many conventions in our language are up surd   

The Clown of Clerihews, what a moniker Moe would say
I could probably write a lot of these everyday
The ballade though, not a form for a dummy
If I can convince ForDummies publishing, surely I'll make money

I'm butchering the king's English Curly would say
As a child I'd watch three stooges reruns everyday
Yes at that time Curly was my favorite of the three
A poem with nyuk, nyuk nyuk, is a sight to see

I'm not sure what Larry would add
Being the only of the original four from a different dad
A musician yes, a great violinist they say
Healy said he pay him $90 a week and extra $10 to throw that fiddle away

What about Shemp can't forget the other brother
Yes Shemp, Moe, and Curly had the same mother
In the latter years I've grown to like him as well
He was actually one of the original two, or so they tell

Joe Besser, hah, definitely the lame duck
Being Jewish, I'm sure the other three would call him a smuck
Some of his appearances I have to tolerate
I'm a fan of the other two with him, so I can't hate

One more for Stinky Davis, as he was called on Albert and Costello
A role he played, definitely not the role of a hero
They all said he wouldn't take a pie in the face
Did he not know the other 40 years of stooges history, what a disgrace

I purposely left Joe DeRita or Curly Joe
He had two stints with The Stooges I know
Was the one short film Snow White and
I have him below Joe Besser, that can't be grand

I guess ThePhilosopher, now lower shouldn't judge
In the 50's he didn't even live a nudge
I was born quiet a while later
Ok I admit it, of Joe I'm a hater




Even having fun in my hate of Joe Besser lol. He had a very extensive acting career, and there was a reason he was allowed to be there without taking pies in the face. He was actually acting out his own character that he developed over his comedy career, so that's kind of impressive. After posting had to add in Joe DeRita, or Curly Joe, lest you thought I forgot his important roles lol
Form: Clerihew

Wheel On a Stick Part 5

--------------------------------------------------------
The Cinematic Film Treatment as Poetic Element 
--------------------------------------------------------
 

Sagitanis Goes 'Bow Wow' 

Nightingale Sagitanis is a homeless woman suffering chronic and debilitating bouts of near-terminal existential ennui and muscatel intoxication until, in the midst of a heat spell caused by bovine methane in the suburbs of Happy Valley, South Dakota (as her heartbeat thankfully approached zero) she hears a whimpering and feels a warm furry body tentatively crawling up her leg on the crack whore mattress she calls home in a concrete culvert pipe under the streets at the Splitdorf Retirement Community, and fights off the alarm of impending invasion, but quickly concluding that this couldn't be land crabs or police drone robots or Chupacabra or a bacterial infection or the dream of marital child bearing bliss that often haunted her lonely nights or delirium tremens or a pack of Blast bubble gum (her favorite) born on the backs of soldier ants driven from their homes by a lawn sprinkler malfunction or an errant cable guy on a peeping Tom mission or the icy fingers of doom which she secretly hoped for in a Freudian nihilistic reaction to a cruel foster mother who forced her to read the entire literature of time lapse orchid pornographer Marshal McLuhan or a full body orifice search by Homeland Security or vanguard elements of the yearly gray squirrel migration, no none of these, rather, as she felt the charming tickle of not one but three cold wet noses and the slap slap slapity of 3 vigorously wagging tails and the lap lap lapity of three enthusiastic tongues did she realize that she had been adopted by a triumvirate of abandoned Labrador retrievers, left bewildered in a mall parking lot by a family of PhD garden dwarfs which she quickly named, Larry , Moe and Curly, the dogs, not the dwarfs, who then provided enough love, slack and protection for Nightingale to attend canine night school and learn the ways of the wolf and the coyote and the dingo and rip the throat out of her oppressors.



From "Theater of Utter Charm"
Available on Amazon

Variations On a Theme

Variations On A Theme...
Ach'n (ache Ken) Existential Struggle...

(NOT by Bellini, Paganini, Rossini...
Eeny Meany Miney Moe - si,
nor the three stooges tee hee hee)

twill never end till...this oft writ trend
of mine will never end,
only when...mortality
ike'n no longer defend!

Thus...once again, (or...as per usual),
this poem iz a boot
ruminations about bout,
who else except this ole coot
at das receiving end damned
lifetime role, and goot

raw end of deal, sans docks side of
moon efficient intervention
(teachers never gave a hoot)
as they appeared oblivious,
how moost all classmates did loot

mine emotional account, viz
cheap trick super tramp ping coot
tees reviled, renounced,
and wreaked havoc as root
of all misfortunate previous

to mine existence,
as iced (sic culled) hood
reaper remained mute
and scythe lent,
while (cue in dolorous)

melody issued from
Mose Arts magic flute,
whereat serpent (also known
in political circles as
Sally Salamander Newt

Gingrich) charmed goaded,
and relentlessly needled
Eve with snake hushed snoot,
thenceforth viper got ramrod
rigid taut as jute

of course this a fallacy as
just smore hove my fruit
fully "FAKE" pre fabric hated
discombobulated trumpeting ill suit
head prevarications – more

offal than glute
tee us expulsion, donned
as invisible faux poetic
apparel clothing with astute
cheeky effects,  thus allowing, 
enabling, and providing

adapt tub bull usage as zoot suit,
or as space age jumpsuit,
when I travel (with my cute Malamute
outsize prairie dog like fine home
companion) to the outer limits

of the twilight zone,
which groovy farout signals
detected by vodafone
and desperate plea made
to aliens to abduct me

(receiving an affirmative
digital binary tone)
courtesy of publishers,
unlike the negative responses,

predictably forecast, no complex koan
but clear as day -
inducing a slight inward moan,
which figurative slap in face

finding yours figuratively prone,
hence...a recurring well known
fantasy regarding plucking
this chicken (198920) heart lee
moss see rolling stone.
Form: Bio

Not Enough

[Song Lyric]

Brothers and sisters have we plenty—
The sun, the moon, and stars on high.
Hours in the day we've four and twenty—
Mountains and trees and lots of sky.
People may call us 'salt of the earth'
And say that our weight in gold we're worth.
Then why are we feeling such a dearth?

We haven't got enough— got enough.
There's simply not enough— not enough.
The trouble isn't that we're never satisfied or insecure.
We haven't got enough— got enough.
There's simply not enough— not enough.
A double negative doesn't make a positive when you're poor.

Winters and summers have we many.
Autumn and spring are ours, it's true.
But food and clothes we've scarcely any,
So time can be a bitter brew.
We try to be thankful and humane—
Our good nature always to retain.
Still once in a while we do complain.

We haven't got enough— got enough.
There's simply not enough— not enough.
The trouble isn't that we're never satisfied or insecure.
We haven't got enough— got enough.
There's simply not enough— not enough.
A double negative doesn't make a positive when you're poor.

Happiness can't be bought with money.
Laughter and love, we know, are free.
Nevertheless it isn't funny
To live and die in poverty.
We're fortunate that we have our health—
Yet sometimes a wish we wish in stealth—
That we could have just a bit of wealth.

We haven't got enough— got enough.
There's simply not enough— not enough.
The trouble isn't that we're never satisfied or insecure.
We haven't got enough— got enough.
There's simply not enough— not enough.
A double negative doesn't make a positive when you're poor. 


 ~ Harley White




Song Lyric, from – “East of the Sun and West of the Moon”

From: One Two Three a Trilogy – Two – “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” – a rendering in musical theater by Harley White – based on the version in Norske Folkeeventyr, collected and recorded by P.C. Absjörnsen and Jorgen Moe,19th Century

Excerpts from Trilogy – click on “Trilogy excerpts”…
[ harleywhite.awardspace.com ]
Form: Lyric

"sista"?

sista you were the person i admired the most

you always came out on top others weren't even close

you took on the pressure of any situation

the role you took was without hesitation

i felt that i would always need you for guidance

i looked at you as my secret alliance

there were times i felt you were unfair about lots of things

but you taught me thats all life means

you started growing older and wiser

i started seeing a house full of liars

it was six kids in a house no father no mother

it was like all we had was each other

man please that was a big front da whole time

you left da house with just a drop of a dime

fights breakin out between you mama and daddy

everytime ya'll fought it was over somethin petty 

our daddy wasn't nothin

mama felt she had to become somethin

wen you moved out it was the best thing for you

but what about us we was struggling too

wen daddy finally came back into the picture we had to go

then here you come cuz you wanna use us sum moe

wen daddy came back mama left

ya'll robbed me personally of happiness it was known theft

well that was the past lets take a look at the present

mama and daddy here sorta i guess thats a blessin

im eighteen years old and now you tryin to interfere in my life

where were you when i needed advice

im the only one in our family doin the best with what i got

everybody is havin the luck when all i have is the have not

sista how could you agree with me one minute cuz our situations is similar

and when you get on all of sudden my choice in your eye's has gone dimmer

you so hypercritical i will never take your advice

it dont matter if you think it could save my life

i dont hate you i just despise you a lot

im not a toy you get out the cracker jack box

when i move away i will not open my mouth to tell you or anybody else where

i'll be ok cuz im with somebody who actually cares

man ma life just went through a twista

but thanks for savin me "sista"?
Form: Rhyme

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