Long Munchkins Poems
Long Munchkins Poems. Below are the most popular long Munchkins by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Munchkins poems by poem length and keyword.
the night is dark
man in the moon disembark
awful chilling and spooky
b o o , b o o ... soupy
no one in sight
even under bright
old street lamp light
daunted and stark
black cat in the park
old owl yon hark
melodies meadow lark
jet siren echo
chirping geckos
along the eaves
full of wet leaves
in the distance
coexistence
lethal bald eagle
loud in gleeful
ever peaceful
frogs and doggies bark
leave a soggy mark
scarecrow in stitches
monsters in britches
broomstick hurls its witch
over devils ditch
ghost do boast
bats hang undermost
thumping pumpkins
dancing munchkins'
ugly and mean
all convene for Halloween
10/31/2020
Children Story
Happy Halloween Soup Friends
So it begins.., somewhere
it always must. Right?
Just picturing Dorothy starting out.., followin' Billie Burke's yellow brick road,
on a cause..
with bewitched ruby shoes.
many munchkins encouraging entourage in song..
a crushed one lost.
She was alone then, mostly, accept for Toto only
embarking on a journey to Oz...
Don't ya see?
It was belonging they both tried to find..
That winding road's spiral'd beginning
that's it
that's what it's like..
Blowin' dandelions at an age before
as ages go, seeds on the wind
before the scary sounds, the cries..
who's to blame?
Waiting your turn, soon to rush headlong
her bracelet still hanging on
a battle of bullets and longing
where a hallowed enemy waits...
all shredded waves
now gone
a bracelet worn too, he..
from her., just as you.
It was belonging they tried to find,
both of them.., could've been best friends
before war's indifference..
so glad once.., yet the same
oh, don't ya see?
who's to blame.
"So Dorothy, your visit here is now in Oz folklore."
"You mean to say," said she, "I'm not in Kansas anymore?"
"Oh dear, I thought you knew that fact; the Munchkins made it clear."
"I joke," she said, "I play it dumb as part of my veneer."
"Haha, quite droll, now tell us about your murder trial?"
"The witch?" She snaps, "I defend myself by plain denial,
I had no idea of where my little house would land."
"You're hoping we believe your little journey was not planned?"
She answers, "Yes, of course, I have no say if dreams come true,
I flew here on a wind, quite odd, of course, and Toto too."
"My name is Gale, you know, which is just a bit ironic."
"I understand," I reply, a trifle too sardonic.
"I do not like your tone, young man," she answers in riposte.
"You, sir, are not at all what I would call a friendly host."
"You are being rude, and I'm having such a horrid day;
This interview is over now; I must be on my way
I have to find the Wizard Oz to help with my defense."
"That yellow road, I think, is where my journey will commence."
"Beware," I warn, "that road is full of lions, fierce and brave."
Then in red shoes, away, she skips with just a little wave.
A conversation with a fictional character Poetry Contest Placed 1st
Sponsored by: Natasha L Scragg
Date wrote: 17th February 2022
...exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
(alternately titled untold treasured shenanigans of Santa)
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves) hest
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally besmirching her virginity
via coital cavorting amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
Form:
As if the house had landed on a witch’s vavavavoom,
the door’s ajar, and my boy had alerted me…
surely tornadoes increase the velocity of speed
of a mom, to zero in on, a three year old.
Forget the broom. Hear the prophet speak
of pleasant things. The boundary has fallen
in pleasant places. If ignored the blessing
clears at the speed of light, taken
from the bright eyes of infinity. Listen to the kid,
not the seven dwarfs, nor the munchkins…
“Mom, come here.” The witch’s broom, stored away.
Clearly, at this point, you think me a witch! C’mon!
Teachable moment…parents lean in. When the dumb speak…
clearly, I mean, when your son is willing to share ANYTHING,
just like E. F. Hutton…stop the presses, lean in and listen,
especially if you want him to trust you with future things,
or trust you at all… so I’m on a run…still my heart…
What will this boy impart? Are we invested in Oz?
A side note, just because…we brought him to see
a 3-D short…the witch cackled…he screamed!
Back on Oahu, Aloha…the door is cracked, minah birds
minding theirs or someone else’s business, as they
are gossipers, given to mimicry. The world has opened,
the sun is shining, as the boy points at a plenary rainbow.
Oh my heart…oh my boy… I know they must grow,
but they forget their moms when they marry,
but moms don’t forget or they shouldn’t - the promise,
the flood of memories… I’m over the rainbow!!
I've had several poets ask who I'd have cast in the roles of characters, so if no one is willing to play along, OR allowed to... I'll still share my thoughts. Since I limited the parts to 3 per character, please know that some of you would've been added to this list, but I didn't want to break my own rule.
TOTO, PULL BACK THE CURTAIN!!!
Dorothy - Tania, Deb M., Anaya
Tin Man - Sheriff K, David K, Mike G (because they are the law in Milton Creek)
Scarecrow- Terry Flood (because of his cover photo and his sense of humor)
Cowardly Lion - I'll just call BS for this one
Wicked Witch - There are 3, but they'd probably try to set me on fire
Glenda-Good Witch - FJ Thomas, Lin Lane, Susan Ashley (perfect candidates)
The Wizard - Tom Cunningham, John Watt, Mo McG (why not a wise woman?)
Uncle Henry - Harry Horseman, Frederic Parker, John Gondolf
Aunty Em- Belle, Paula G., Eve
Munchkins - I thought I'd get volunteers for this role
Toto- Caren K...my only choice because she's as adorable as the little pup
I see no harm in posting this list
despite the one who raised a fist.
If anyone whose name I've used
feels terribly offended or abused,
just let me know and I'll remove it.
Make your own list. Use your wit. (I'd like to see yours, too)
Thanks to those who asked that I post the cast of players.
I asked the wee Munchkins, "Which way do I go?"
Figured since they lived here, they would be in the know.
But they looked at me uncertainly, scared of the witch.
Then realizing she was dead; they did a double take
and said, "Follow the yellow brick road without a hassle,
through the blooming poppy field but stay awake,
then on past the shire you will find an emerald castle."
After a drugged nap among the poppies with new friends,
I'd found along the way; I skipped on the yellow bricks
that came to an abrupt end without paying dividends.
I was definitely lost; not in paradise that was for sure,
but in a place, I soon feared would not take me home.
This was a strange land I'd rather not have to endure.
I'd heard about the wizard, the greatest mind in Oz
but one who never showed his face, for goodness sake!
Toto exposed the rake when he opened the curtain wide,
and there was the Mighty Wizard, where he chose to hide.
Anger raged in my heart, and I chided him for his sham.
Admittedly, he confessed although I knew he was a flake.
Said he wanted to feel important, and his name was Sam.
Now, how was I supposed to get home back to Aunty Em?
My friends found what they needed; I was glad for them.
At least the Scarecrow got a brain. No fear he'd be burned.
The Tin Man had a heart and Lion had courage he'd earned.
I'm thankful for the wicked witch's shiny red ruby slippers
that good witch, Glenda told me I should keep on my feet,
for by clicking their heels would I wake from this nightmare.
I'm in Kansas, but should've wished for Paris, or anywhere!!
the (better late than never)
free admission confession, exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
treasured untold shenanigans of Santa,
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves)
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball, while additionally
besmirching her virginity via coital cavorting
amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied
with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
The wizard will know everyone I met along the way said.
Okay, I thought, for I am from Kansas and not daft in my head.
I looked for the curtain as I pranced down the yellow brick road.
Instead of Toto a cairn terrier, I was followed by a frog who looked old.
The mini-munchkins did not come out to greet or to sing.
I never found a scarecrow, tinman or lion with zing.
In the far distance I saw a poppy field, but the flowers looked odd.
An old witch-like creature with wings gave me a head nod.
Where is the wizard? I yelled, kind of half-heartedly.
That’s when I found a lively sassy wise talking oak tree.
Winged monkeys are about, so make haste she warned me.
Fear came into my heart, I’ve seen Wizard of Oz times twenty-three.
I began to run and hit my head on an unexpected branch.
I woke up smelling cinnamon, pumpkin and possibly ranch.
A frog with a wizard hat was concocting some kind of spell.
I wondered if I was still alive or I had gone to…..
After the Sunday service, searching back to her
For a date. He will soon be walking back to her.
Bottle rockets popping over the Sacre Coeur.
She suddenly kissed him; he then leaning back to her.
Leave ending, the soldier takes the Gare de l’Est train.
Just outside, from his window, waving back to her.
She travels east by train. He travels south by train.
A weekend in Strasbourg, him meeting back to her.
“Hey! You have another letter. What did he say?”
She reads aloud. He’s always writing back to her.
Five-mark coins clank in the West German phone.
“Je t’aime” heard at her “boulot”; calling back to her.
The Army okayed it. His mother flew over.
Her father was there for the wedding back to her.
First residence in Sohren. First of two munchkins,
Playing under a chair, then crawling back to her.
All night in the post’s delivery room,
Holding her hand. Love sending back to her.
TDYs learning Serbo-Croatian
Through Germany commuting back to her.
Yugoslavia dies as a nation -
U. N. Peace Keeper writing back to her
From Operation Iraqi Freedom
Telephoning, emailing back to her
Now a civilian, travels behind him,
He’s always nearby, staying back to her
Commuting between Monterey and Salinas,
Both approaching retirement, driving back to her.
The Warrior Poet and his wife walk the old dog.
“Hurry Bella.” “Come on girl.” Whistling back to her.