Long Par for the course Poems
Long Par for the course Poems. Below are the most popular long Par for the course by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Par for the course poems by poem length and keyword.
The Halloween queen puts cement in tarts
A crafty way to bond with a man’s heart
One tart is enough to stiffen one’s bits
Witches have such extraordinary gifts.
This witch is not of the usual sort
Casting of spells is not par for the course
She’s a thriller, cement is her filler
The tarts she makes are her for sure killer.
Some men can’t resist the charms of a witch
Dressed up to the nines, quite an exhibit
With the skill of seduction, they mesmerise
Promising their suitors the time of their lives.
With tarts appealing, simply delicious
The men are won over and lubricious.
Taking all that’s on offer, however
A moment’s pleasure, they’re gone forever.
Halloween - 2021
La la land
Don't think everyone eats
Because you eat
Or drinks clean water
Because you still can.
Don't think everyone has a bed
On which to lay their head
Don't think there's a stove
Like yours in every household
Houses hold stuff.
Some people walk
With all their stuff -in bags.
Gotta sleep with
One eye open
Glad to have eyes.
And there are more and
more out
There with nowhere to be.
Cannot stand nor sit.
Glad to have a cell
Jail is there
Hotel. If lucky.
Don't think that- that bath
You took is "par for the course"
Think outside of your door.
Look outside of your window.
Laaaa deee da laaa dee da.
America isn’t happening no more
Now you lay it down to sleep,
Praying for your soul to be kept
The shorted verse is, “Jesus wept"
People sleeping
On the ground and floors...
Even the shelters are closed.
How long can you hold on?
Facing the elements and the sun.
Living in the edge of hope.
Kill you for a bar of soap.
No medical nor food and now neglected.
No control over your own circumstances
Children no longer protected.
Living off others and depending on chance.
No one to give
You that human touch
Dog eat dog.
"look at her-
She over der eating"
Some have nothing
Some have much.
So much that
They are not in touch
With the new reality.
"America ain't happening no more".
Singing la la la la..
Attacks on the ones
who have too much-
Jealousy rises if you eat a lunch.
So just keep walking through
Singing- la dee d da la dee da.
Hey you in la la land.
Watta yall going to do?
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2013
THE DUMB BLONDE
Our dumb blonde leader is a total buffoon
Living in cloud cuckoo land in his cocoon
His party's starved our N. H. S.
Now the country is in a mess
Thinks the flu virus will be over real soon...
OUR CRACKPOT GOVERNMENT
They wanted to create herd immunity
Run covid - 19 through our community
Now that's a war crime
They should all do time
Par for the course, they'd all get impunity...
(ON A LIGHTER Note)
TIMMMY MCGEE
There was an old man called Timmy McGee
Every day he'd drink a gallon of tea
One night forgot to do
His business on the loo
He woke up floating next morning in pee...
HAPPY BUCK
There was an old man known as Happy Buck
Loved loud music but he ran out of luck
Had earphones in each ear
Poor old Buck didn't hear
Approaching sound of a thirty ton truck...
JED THE KEEPER
At the zoo a big cat keeper called Jed
Instead of meat tried to give them stale bread
They roared in defiance
Poor Jed lost his balance
One saw his chance and bit off his head...
BILLY GILL
The dumb outlaws led by Billy Joe Gill
Bank and train robbery they had no skill
They tried to leave town
But they were tracked down
Now they all lie in a plot on Boot Hill...
Written 2nd April 2020.
Back in nineteen hundred and three
I working with a logging crew,
cutting and limbing mighty trees,
be they hemlock, pine, or spruce.
We worked for the Nowell Paper firm,
in the shades of the Adirondacks,
spent all winter in Camp Seven,
sending full sleds down icy tracks.
One morning in late December
we got up before the dawn,
that was just par for the course,
our work days were rather long.
We made it to the cook-house,
where waited the salt pork,
with flapjacks and potatoes fried,
we ate until enrgorged.
Then with a nod to the bull cook,
to let him know he’d done good,
we grabbed our axes, our crosscut saws,
and headed out into the woods.
By noon we worked a stump garden
we’d cleared back in the fall,
when we’d cut down the spruces
though a few still stood tall.
Those ones are the seed trees,
to make sure it grows again,
but the ones we felled we had cut
into fourteen-foot lengths.
Now in that deep chill of winter
we worked with our pike-poles,
hauling the logs to big sleds
drawn by horses, rather cold.
We stacked them for the ice road,
in air that made all shiver,
the teamster waited to haul it
all the way down to the river.
Now lumberjacks always work in pairs,
and my partner was Guy Montreaux,
a Quebecois better with an axe
than any farmer with a hoe.
He was quite an entertaining man,
lifted spirits in our shanties,
and knew the words to every bawdy song
ever sang in the north country.
On that grim day he huffed loudly,
having been put through his paces,
as he loaded up the last big log
a horse jolted back in its traces.
The equine kicked, the pile shook,
the teamster cried,’Get clear!”
Me and the boys all dove away,
filled with a familiar fear...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
over the garden wall
deconstruction of smaller parts
we're breaking it down once more
with shorter skirts and faster cars
we are filing for divorce
out through the window
to fly or to fall
will we land on our feet
over the garden wall...
moral compass is all askew
it's hard to tell wrong from right
pushing forward we get confused
now don't you cheat on my wife
shake off your slumber
abandon the dream
wilfully wander to
a place I've never been
the time has come to do or die
to give the devil his due
your eyes have died two thousand times
as each one has lived a thousand lives
each one, as each one
each one has lived a thousand lives
I'm not complaining
it's par for the course that's all
there's plenty to see
over the garden wall...
___________________________
I write songs that should also stand alone as poetry.
I hope this inspires courage.
all the best,
Rightly
The Tricky Chirp
The nester bird comes to live,
in a nest, they did not make.
Yet... the bird,
feels right at home
and not alone at all.
The new mom seems surprised,
she can not hide it from
her eyes,
but she continues on
like any mother would.
The brand new baby is larger than the rest.
Taking all the best, and putting the whole nest to the test.
The sad secret of this new life,
this mock, "not my son" from afar...
The more you give, the more they take.
It is a bad-tasting cake.
The dark star is par for the course... and now the jar is empty.
There is no more left for those that belong,
and that is all wrong.
Eating the food, drinking the wine,
and telling the time...
to whom ever walks by
they said hi,
and not high,
or how high?
The mother bird continues,
wondering where father
has gone?
Picked up Jane and we're walking to the balcony,
and shown where we'll be sitting as the crowds mose-in,
and there's some excitement 'neath the floor we had left,
sparked favored light applause from one estranged bereft,
we're bemused fetching about well anchored split views,
what fabled then hath waned onto a seasick cruise,
be no mistake of it with drinks, friends do what's best,
hotel days reminisce thanks to Clint' absent guest,
as they all three turned out as definite no show,
with the place still hoping Jane decided to go,
particularly since she got to go to work that night,
lead's A.M. show and luncheon, I'd sleep on-site.
Jane is a night auditor, a night accountant,
close a hotels daily in and out dependent.
Pebble Beach Lodge is a five-star golf course hotel,
be rooms, restaurants, banquets and bars, is the nutshell,
spas, saunas, massage, yoga, thereapeutic and
salons, horseback riding class, pool concession stand,
and yes, golfing lessons as par for the course, please,
they're not free as they're taught by legends--like their fees.
... home tomorrow ...
I met with Mr. Eastwood for the first time with both of us, and I know he's savvy about people's character.
I would rate Clint as, par for the course as Pebble Beach is noted for, in due part to Bing Crosby's efforts, whereto the family carried the banner until AT&T, went the distance.
Clint was good, but he had an Ace, plain Joe-Clint ... had plain-Jane, along with her many SF Bay Airian invitees--zich hile, Mata Hari.
Where's William, Clint asks? (abrupts Derek's notable timing) Oh, you met William, he's like that pineapple they've invented across the bay.
It's not called that, besides, I heard you got fired. Reprimanded Jayney. William doesn't fire, yeah a reprimand would be in order, a character like you. Well, it wasn't him, it was Mr Lars. I knew it, William never fired anybody.
I agree Jane. Mr. Eastwood, William has a way of teaching somebody like throwing a curve ball. What do you mean by that, curve ball?
Well, he talked about the last hockey game's final scoring played out, while teaching me how to change the ink in our large front office machine--the hockey game lost to the copier.
Suspended Transcendental Meditative State...
Temporarily relieves, loosens,
and detaches worldly weight,
albeit bearing heavily straight
away upon well balanced,
awk credited miniature oblate
spheroid, sans cranial
dome to help alleviate
this principled capital one citizen banker,
whose penurious plight
seeks to make lightweight
oppressive burden clawing
(with razor sharp talons)
tete a tete upon pate
never to abate
pennilessness, which oppressive monetary
crisis could abbreviate
livingsocial, and spur me to abdicate
charade, facade minted "FAKE"
dog and pony Truman
kaput show, doth accelerate
velocity at which body
electric will demonstrate
how basket of deplorable
pauperism existence I abominate
past the tipping point to relish,
where being in the red
financially doth accentuate
swiftness yours truly will acclimate,
where among grave
mausoleums will accommodate
finding yours truly to acculturate
adjusting being housed
with grateful dead help facilitate
mine written posthumous decomposition
once Hades will activate
leverage - haggling with ferryman,
which latter might equivocate
par for the course, especially demise,
asper cessation circumlocution prone
fella never to tubby a freight
of becoming deceased
signifying no more flapping gums
asthma lovely bones disintegrate
into basic constituent matter
repurposed into essence, I cannot intimate.
Well I did some today.' I know this cause
In older by a day.? Hmm..Now i missed
Breakfast.' So can't say whether it would
Have been (good or bad?) Yet i have an
Empty feeling, maybe could that be a plus.? If so
I should be glad.' I think I might be thinner.?
Yet not (waisting away) so that seems I've achived
Quite the two opposltes..I'm now inclined to say, If i could go way back further.? Or foreward?? I could
Always check the winners..So some advice
To you Tom Woody..Be aware there could be sinners.' Who won't give out the information yet have had more than three
Dinners.' You won't tell by their bellys, or any other sign.' I know it would be helpfull in the cause of saving money ' if thats why
You put this contest up, I could think that its funny? A way to get the info on how to cheat in time.' And forget the science plod
As a matter of course, if you ask my horse?
He'll guess its par for the course.' Just make sure the burgers arn't part-sourced in any equine history.'
From a leg that was once hind.'