Long Party Poems

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


Premium Member My Love For Christmas Parties At Work

She handed me a shandygaff which I took to right away.
Oh, me, oh, my, I was soon drunker than a tipsy sailor,
And singing better than I had for years. Songs were coming
Out of me the way leaves come off a tree in the fall, only louder.

I was terrific at “Old Dan Tucker,” 
Fantastic at “My Country Tis of Thee”,
And my “Over the Rainbow” was a contender
For the Judy Garland prize of the century.

I was amazing! I was amusing! My whit was hilarious,
I was more fabulous than I had ever been in my life,
For two seconds, but then I dropped, and fell asleep on the floor.
There was a hush for a second as people stared.

My husband carried me home.
I dreamed of my glory for hours.
My singing prowess! My keen sense of humor.
I had shown them!

Having no idea that eight people I work with
Had spiked my drink “thinking it would be funny”.
And amusing? Luckily, two sips put me down before
I died of alcohol poisoning.

I was out for eleven hours, because I do not usually drink.
So thanks co-workers, for helping me miss the entire
Stupid Christmas party.
Back next year? What would be the point?


Premium Member Animals

It was a party of fleas who dropped some tea into the sea 
Created a baby that left its mommy
Now there is an elephant and donkey in the room
So, lets asked who’s the bigger ***?
A spark, a flare, lighting a camel, an affair
Puff of smoke gone, what went wrong?
Bully the pulpit, who’s the culprit  
Line drawn and divided by two
A state of iron bars but let’s call it a zoo  
Divided into a system of them vs you 
Don’t lose your autonomy 
Though everyone is still just a monkey
Collectively a swarm of angry bee’s 
The brilliants of hatred and judgment 
The embellishment establishment pageant
Yesteryear's of days past are today's fears 
Financiers, volunteers as November nears 
Comparisons, divisions of wealth’s occupations
Frictions, contradictions, comedians 
Who will be the next king of the jungle?
Both proclaiming to be the blissful angel 
Tis the mating seasons bestial battle
Birdies tweets all about it on the their social 
Scandal! Scoundrel! Oh, look there’s a squirrel
The eternal feral quarrel circle 
The apex creatures are very territorial 
For the king or queen, gerrymandering 
The two-party system is the grand pyramid scheme
Bunch of ***holes looking up and bunch of **** looking down 
Kiss up, gallop, gossip, stirrup, who will win the crown?
In this cage, enrage, what’s on the front page?
Who’s saying what about minimum wage?
Outrage about an issue? The cockatoos will throw a horseshoe
Here, eat this grass, here, pray at mass, or don’t
They will provide an antidote
Cheer, this one is such a deer, so sincere, so clear
Ok, the political evolution will find a way to prey on the economic roadway
Confusing rat race values, turn to the news and find out who will lose
Here, oats for the goats. No, the grass is greener over there
But be aware because there is a monster troll lair 
Despair not of this nightmare, the election will swear to another road     
The only condition for this prince is you must kiss this toad
Bam, the payload full of taxes and other critter’s pensions 
Hurry up and cooked this eagle thanksgiving is awaiting  
Tis the season for the hating, frustrating, debating, 
Won, the elephants and donkeys parties are one hell of celebration 
After-all in this zoo, the keepers and guests are laughing at you


Updated 5/14/2019
© G. Jay  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member My Old Friend Gettysburg

My old friend Gettysburg came to visit me tonight.                                       
He indicated that he has been troubled about many things.                   
He begins without hesitation to speak to me with passionate expressions.      He said that he was feeling both patriotism and pride but also consternation.   He thought about how different '4th of July' celebrations might be this year.

He is whispering to me about both freedom and sovereignty.
He is shouting to me in tears about divisiveness and unity.
He tells me of his being ripped apart in every section and direction.
His north is pulling; his south is pushing; his east and west are frozen.
His total being is being disconnected; his pain is unbearably excruciating.

He ponders the complexity of such beauty being on the brink of destruction.
He remembers the Mayflower, Plymouth Rock, and the Boston Tea Party.
Presently, when thinking about Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, he weeps.
He locks his eyes to mine and questions, "Whatever happened to the love of life, love of family, love of neighbor, love of the church, love of country?"

Gettysburg believes in America and thinks we will find our way forward.
He reflects on the Declaration of Independence and the many sacrifices.
The Preamble to the Constitution is weighing heavily on his confused mind.
He prays that the dream doesn't die, and he rejects any nightmarish thoughts.
Gettysburg believes in God, and that He will turn the tides and calm the sea.

He utters his last words to me by quoting the Preamble to the Constitution of the USA. "We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of ...

061520PS

A Real Man

He cries in grief at the funeral, he's just lost his best friend.
He passed away so quickly, but had been loyal to the end.
Observers remarked, he's not a real man, look how he cries.
But, what do you expect a man to do, when a loved one dies.

She's beautiful to the extreme, in countenance and form,
A real temptress, in every way, a star was born.
She makes an overture to him with a knowing smile,
He turns her down, says he's been happily married for a while.
She says listen here honey, a real man can't say no to me!
He says a real man understands the meaning of true loyalty.

He works hard every day, does his best to support his family,
After work some say hey, let's go drinking, have a real party!
He says no thanks, I should really be going back home,
I don't like to leave my wife and kids there all alone.
They said you're joking right, a real man does what he wants to.
He says that's not really the loving thing to do.

His neighbor says come on over, watch the game, in my man cave,
He says sorry, I promised the kids we would go out and play.
Neighbor retorts you're so boring, a real man has all the toys,
He says no, a real man grows up, leaves behind the traits of a boy.

On the highway going home, by mistake he cuts someone off,
The other driver is furious, yelling insults, and horrible stuff.
It continues for miles till they're both stuck at a red light,
The other driver get's out and tries to provoke him to fight,
Says get out of the car, chicken, a real man knows how to fight back
His mild manner turns away rage, self-control is his counter attack.

If your father never taught you, what a real man should know,
It gets so obvious as the years pass, it really starts to show.
All is not lost, just grow up, and assume your responsibility,
Then you will understand what it means to be truly happy.

John Derek Hamilton  November 1,2015
Form: Narrative

What Would Ma Bell Say

Brouhaha brewing, my Jezebel comes home glowing;
Football game in progress, but she has gossip to spend. 
Curious winds blustering, in rare decibels growing,
posthaste, I speed dial her garrulous second best friend.
Handing Jez my phone, I finish the game without knowing.

Modern day courier of gossip, secrets and tears
smart phones qualify as second best friend, for teen girls.
Facetime calls overloaded with eyes, mouths and ears.
Conversations take on life, female character unfurls;
compared to old party lines, much has improved through the years.

November 19, 2020

contest:  Quintain-Sicilian 
sponsor: Emile Pinet


THE SPACES THAT ARE LEFT


I never knew what to fill the spaces with
Sometimes I didn't even see them
They were disguised under many coats
With hidden pockets of shallowness
And oversized buttons to mismatched holes.
It didn't matter most of the time
Because the tailor never stopped sewing more
And I was content to let them lie
Beneath the growing pile of tweed
And gaberdine and wrinkled linen
Kind fabrics who wrapped them up
And kept them warm and unprepared
But as time went on and more people
Left the party, the pile of coats
Gradually disappeared and the tailor
couldn't keep up the pace of making
The spaces could be easily filled at first
With dreams, with passion, with sorrow,
With the wrap of a Cherub's leg in bed,
With the carefree knowing there'd be time
To butter them with tears or laughter
Or use their emptiness for meditation
But in the spaces that are left
A greater contemplation is required
It is necessary for them to be filled
With greater aspiration which in itself
Brings further sorrow for deep within them
Is the simple indication
That I will not have enough time
To fill them all.

 

© Allen Ansell 2025

Premium Member Jd and Rock

Getting tired of hearing sad songs 
Tearing out my soul
Just give me a little Jack Daniels
And a whole lot of rock 'n roll
Don't want nothing making me feel sorry
Nothing making me feel down
Just want to get out and party
And rock all over town
So, let your hair down baby
And give up what you call class
Cause all that melancholy 
Is becoming a pain in the
There isn't time to stand and whine
That just leave me cold
So give me a little Jack Daniels, babe
And a whole lot of rock 'n roll.
Gonna fly tonight, out of sight
Where I ain't ever been before
Gonna get all my frustrations out
And scream till my lungs get sore
Gonna shout and yell, and raise some hell
Until the night gets old
Gonna have me a little Jack Daniels, babe
And a whole lot of rock 'n roll.
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Thanksgiving In California



Don't come to my house,after all.
Our Weimar Republic Governor,
regaled..." Ten people, that's all"


If you want to dance must be 20
feet away?
I heard a liberal state is outlawing
kissing soon, as they take more 
freedoms as we allow them to have 
their way?

Too bad there's no masks for eating 
turkey legs.
I don't know how to eat with a mask 
on....create one, I humbly beg!

I still am grateful with a governor
like others, who has the Nazi insignia 
tattooed on their backs.
Pretend liberals, they, taking each
Constitutional right away.

"In Covid We Trust" should be imprinted 
on our coins.
Or worse yet, burnt into our loins?

Zoomgivng, they highly prefer.
As fear replaces all holidays, I think
only the brightest of you may concur.

Many still love all the fear going on.
Mostly nonsensical, inflated numbers, 
especially if you have that station on.

Lastly, the craziest idea, "there is no 
Covid in CA in strip joints."
But churches and schools are filled with 
them? 
Dude, my head does not come to a point!

Football is in full swing!
So is the topless girl with pasties and bare 
bottomed, allowed open on Thanksgiving!

Ah, fear, how I loathe your face!
I wish I could remove you from our human race!

Happy Thanksgiving, may the Governor burn!
He had a Party in Napa last nigh!
Now it's all Californians turn.


               11-19-2020
Form: Rhyme

The Poisoned Well

I recall it like yesterday,
We could party,enjoy all day,
Limitations were a thing of the past,
We just ate and drank minus fast,
Water was in abundance,
And we enjoyed it at at a glance,
But not anymore now,the well is poisoned.

The delicacies could be shared,
With love, joy and no hatred,
People of an ageset could share,
And upon demise they could heir,
It was fun and enjoyment,
Yeah,in absentia of predicament,
But not any more now,the well is poisoned,

It was till recently,
The waters got dirty greatly,
It harboured dangerous poison,
Worse than the kamiti prison,
A mistakened single sip
Offered you a free ticket to Rip.
The poisoned water is so unique,
Ooh No!the water is now unfit.

As you take it,you become freak,
Your hair becomes so loose,
The once healthy cheeks will ooze,
Legs will transform to sticks,
And become thin like starved ticks,
No more swimming now,the well is infested.
Form: ABC

Premium Member Sometimes

sometimes coffee in an Antigua cup
or red,
not often, tea,
loose or bagged.
does the string stop the drowning.
occasionally, dandelion,
bitter, mildly unpleasant;
such as a visit
to the deck, tidied,
vacuumed, except for a corner
kept with leaves
waiting for a spouse
to hurry up and finish up.
a three-way
confusion, static;
like a bus-hop,
it’s no party, not even
an old-fashion
party line.
not likely to listen
to reason, cutting
remarks, saturated
in control.
chocolate cream, distilled sips
in a cordial glass,
stem pinched by thumb
and pointing out tact.
sometimes wine, red
in a heaping purple goblet,
only a quarter full;
I’m no fool.
falling into the coolness
of rain, insane
how things change, shift,
stay strangely the same,
and out of order.
hey, while I listened,
a lingering trash bag
disappeared.
this is why
complaining is 
for nought.
perhaps tomorrow 
will wake up sunny,
and exhausted,
rumpled and relaxed.
a three way cheer
of tact,
bittersweet parched.

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