Long Peeping tom Poems
Long Peeping tom Poems. Below are the most popular long Peeping tom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Peeping tom poems by poem length and keyword.
I wish I had a funny bone
One that was my very own and not cloned
And so I asked God one fine night
When the lights were off and it was all very quiet
God, damn the Adam whose rib got me saddened
Give me a bone that would only gladden
Something to chew which would make words spew
Into colorful smiles not just to a few
So HE gave me the jaw bone of a donkey
One he borrowed from Samson, now isn’t that funky
He told me to fix it on my jaw and then I would he-haw
It would slay a thousand people and leave them in loud guffaws
And so it went like this
The peeping tom, tomtomed his way
to the top of his team
By dancing on a totem pole
And when the girls were in the changing room
He would peep into the keyhole…
The butcher was butchering the beef
Beads of sweat bursting on his brow
With bated breath and hands that sweat
he slipped the dollar bill in his bin…
Mary had a little lamb,
I thought his name was Jesus
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall,
Can someone tell me how he landed there first of all
A penny for your thought?
Beware you might just step on a mind-sweeper
Four and twenty black birds baked in a pie
They must have been all crows who were caught telling a lie
Trumpeting is Trumps trump card
No money, no honey
No problem I’ll go for a beach bunny
And now the night is on..
Its time to keep down the jawbone
And I hope I don't get stoned
I did not realize I am a waiting room peeping tom princess until today.
When I first arrived, I made a mistake and laughed when an
older lady was yelling into the phone about what a
loser her grandson was for leaving her here without a ride home.
This earned me a stellar glare from screechy wheel-chaired crone.
I pretend I am not observing any of them,
Glance around swiftly once in a while so
They realize I am not a corpse, pretending
To be completely uninterested in what the other six are doing.
I am not noticing any of you at all, I pretend loudly.
A new player, an older gentleman, dressed in long gray shorts, and hairy legs arrives.
Can we help you sir?
I am looking for my….
DADDY!
Twenty-something girl who has had her head down almost between her knees since she arrived
Does not rise, but she puts her hands out, and the man in the red
And white Hawaiian shirt who just entered, races toward his offspring.
There is loud sobbing now, the first interesting thing she has done.
Daddy rudely sits behind a pole, so I can only see head-down girl.
She is beyond being consoled.
He speaks in soothing low tones.
Sometimes all you need is your dad
Sometimes you just want to make a show; hers is quite the little performance.
I start writing down the phone conversation mascara woman is having next to me.
She is ever more interesting.
Not feeling a bit guilty for being the creepy waiting room peeping tom princess that I apparently am.
[FLUSH = Fearless League of Unlikely Super Heroes]
______________
A communique received today from one Nicholas Saint
Said that he had misbehaved, an honest chap he ain’t
He thought that he could ruin FLUSH by framing their inventor
And destroy the kudos of an old saloon frequenter
He sees the error of his ways and now must tell the truth
For nobody, except for fate pushed Santa off the roof
He tried to frame the Mayor, you see, with evidence that’s fake
And getting Mister Flood sent down? The icing on the cake
But then Ms Logan got involved, she owns the best saloon
He likes a brandy everyday, he’s always there at noon
See, Santa battled justice using methods out of hand
But he won’t fight Ms Logan for he fears he might be banned
It’s time, he says, to tell the truth, for we deserve to know
What took place upon that roof, it’s quite a tale of woe
For Mrs Jones at number three was so scantily clad
Her curtains were wide open, oh, what a view he had
He couldn’t help what he could see but hoped he would see more
And then she dropped her nightie… for the wife from number four
But when they looked right up at him he tried a quick step back
He didn’t jump off on a whim, he slipped… but what went crack?
To his shame he’d been ‘excited’ he asks that you don’t scoff
He’d landed on his front, you see, and broke his manhood off
So now if you should hear him speak, his tone no longer low
His big gruff voice is now a squeak; he’s lost his Ho Ho Ho!
He had to frame somebody else because where he comes from
You cannot work with little elves when you’re a peeping Tom
I heard that those French girls were raunchy as hell
I thought I’d go find me a young mademoiselle
I’m no work of art and I’m well past my best
But I’ve had a wash and I’ve changed my string vest
My mate said the best girls stand out in the crowds
But then he said I’ve got my head in the clouds
He said you’re so old that you might make them shriek
I said I’d be happy to just get a peek
So I bought a Kodak, its lens was quite long
To steal me a shot of a girl in a thong
My mate said that’s freaky, in fact it’s perverted
I knew he was right, I was quite disconcerted
But ladies and me, well it has been a while
A quick flash of flesh would sure make me smile
I had an idea: I would head for the sky
And focus on windows of buildings nearby
My plan didn’t work and I took not one shot
Although I had thought that I’d get quite a lot
So I’m heading home where I’ll have a cold shower
And never return to that damned eye-full tower.
Pretty adorned in scarlet Red
from head to toe undergarment
included
She goes by the name I believe
of those who know her affectionately
as
Roxanne
With matching lipstick and eyeshadow
She has no need for blush as her cheeks
always seem plentiful enough rosy
Which always makes me think when
I see her standing there
Right in full view in front of her bedroom
window brazen as hell dressed no less
in her skimpy negligee lingerie underwear
In fact come to think of it ver strange but
the only time she ever seems to close
her curtains is during the day
When the majority of her male friends pop
round for a quick half an hour or so visit
then leave
Why on earth then doesn't she try
turn the heating down in there
Because given what she is dressed down
in it sure as hell must be hot in there
And I am not quite sure she knows or
is aware that this particular area or
part of town
Has sadly now become over time a bit run
down and gathered a reputation for
being shall we say a tad seedy and
frequented by undesirables
But unfortunately she obviously isn't as
streetwise and as cool as me
Colonel Peeping Tom commanding
officer of my local neighborhood watch
with noticeable burgeoning bosom in the offing, ahoy
this baby faced blubbery bosom beastie boy
fast becoming a bra man,
and might hire himself out
as a male wet nurse for employ
ment, cuz when stark naked on shark tank,
I behold two bopping, brewing, busting
flap jacks in search of a frying pan,
which change in my physiognomy doth annoy
but, suddenly spurring,
this ordinarily calm, cool, and collected chap
positing even a more radical income idea
changing ma name to Chester, letting hooters
get suckled, though,
methinks they qualify as milk duds
tit two siamese twin guys christened ell and roy
offering accompanied with serving of cookies,
where adipose floppy blimps
rank popular as novel cheap toy
where art though washboard stomach,
where brestworks didst sprout
as if overnight a markedly increased
from flat “Joe” six pack chest did an about
face, with squishy, mushy, and doughy
sprang up without doubt
suddenly forcing a sexual identity crisis,
which freaky phenomenon makes me wanna pout
for weird, wicked woebegone
affects the psyche of this lviii aged lout
wondering what other transitions,
this fellow may indeed be on the look out
feigning to traverse (in me mind) badgering
rugged hormonal secretion terrain akin to a girl scout
on the prowl targeting a peeping tom,
whose foolery demands clout,
thus this imposed unfair punishment,
as some half assed irreversible decree
maybe hints of other surprises,
yet tubby revealed, which haint no fallacy
possibly being brewed up by a brood
of bruiting imps of the pervert with glee
some bot sized microscopic
anti bosom buddy hood stolen the genetic key
analogous to a pesky malware,
virus, trojan horse secrete lee
scheming to transform the sexual identity of me
perhaps waking up tomorrow minus
my little peppy ***** , and behold a pussy
should such an outcome prevail,
where media papparazzi
stake out this freak of nature re:
doubling efforts erecting fortifications
in a big old sassy tree,
especially if the press
(i.e. particularly meaning Wikileaks)
discovers ability to experience infinite orgasms
converting sexual predilection into electric utility.
I like to make things grow
I’m very good at it.
I use my spade and dig quite deep
All sorts of bugs I like to meet.
Ladybirds live together just like in a kibutz
They are very friendly, but each other they don’t trust
I’ve never seen a wedding,they do not seem to mind
Sharing love with each other. I’ve seen them from behind.
Worms all wrapped around each other, I can’t tell them apart
Wrapped in ecstasy they seem, not wanting to move apart
The dragon flys are all around promiscuous they seem.
Hopping from dragon to dragon,I hope they are all clean.
The frogs they are, amazing, many partners they hold on too.
It really wears me out to see, the splashing that even reaches me.
The spiders I have never seen "At it",
"At it" anywhere,
That’s because they scare me to much
And they might get in my hair.
I walk around the garden digging where I can
But am I really stalking, the snails in the watering can?
They twist and squirm together it really looks quite odd
I would have made it different if I had been a god.
My day of gardening is nearly done, I’m tired and need a rest,
But look at those two birds over there "At it" in the nest.
Oh woe is me a peeping Tom, I think I am becoming
Its going on all around me, I think it's time to go back in.
We dreamed in a dream
That we were on the beach
The girls in costume
But the ghost was within reach
Iolanda and Danielle on the beach did they stand
Whilst Karen and Barbara, skipped with Carolyn in hand
Unknown to them, they were being watched from a far
A ghostly figure with a lengthy scar
The very next morning, at breakfast they were
Eating cheese covered noodles, in sight of the ghost with the scar
To the balcony they retired, sun bathing naked as be
As the ogling ghost, looked over the balcony to see
In strategic display, the straw hats were in place
So that the Souper girls would never be disgraced
But who is the ghost that all these girls see
This figure of white, at their balcony
Their day turns to night, into the town they head
For drinks and a meal, and then they retire to bed
But in the deep of the night, there is a cry and a shout
As all the girls wonder, what was that all about
In the morning they discovered, someone fell in their pool
A peeping tom was reported, someone was just playing the fool
The sad thing is, that they never discovered who
So when they all go to sleep, watch out for the BOO!
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-6.php
I didn’t mean to invade her privacy,
I was simply taking the trash out late that night;
I never noticed how from the back of the house
You could see right into her bedroom when she turned on the light.
The curtains were sheer and not completely closed,
Her silhouette was outlined and her flesh exposed;
I am not a peeping Tom but in my tracks I froze,
Watching her tantalizingly removing her clothes.
She stood in front of her full length mirror;
I inched a little closer to see her clearer.
It was as if she was even teasing herself,
Slowly undressing and watching her own reflection;
Her fingertips caressing the smooth exposed flesh;
Her exhibition demanded my full attention.
She is twenty-five years old and my neighbor’s daughter;
I am twice her age and a little bit more;
I know I am wrong to be standing here watching
But a more beautiful nubile I’ve never seen before.
Her clothes are now strewn on the floor by her feet,
She is totally naked and pleased by the sight;
Slowly she turns looking over her shoulder,
Making sure all of her parts are shaped just right.
God must be very angry at me,
But, God created this wondrous beauty.
She took inventory of body parts with both of her hands,
Pleasing herself with her delicate touch;
I knew that I should be turning away;
I was enjoying her exploring a bit too much.
She kissed her own reflection returned in the mirror
Then turned and walked toward the windows;
Just before pulling down the night shade
She waved to me hiding in the shadows.
Ashamed of myself and embarrassed by my actions,
I returned to my house all alone;
She knew I was watching and vexed by her beauty,
It was me she was teasing all along.
Yet it brought back memories of when I was younger
And my wife more beautiful than she;
Although I’m a widower for seven long years,
That night, again my bride was with me.
I don’t believe there is such a thing as a mirror,
Because this so called reflection is not really me.
I think he is a stranger that moved into my house,
For the man that I see is somewhat, ugly.
I think he built this life size window
To spy on everything that I do
And I can tell you he is beginning pissing me off
I can feel my anger’s starting to brew
Once I moved to the side of the window
And he disappeared out of sight
What I could see a part of his room
Gave me an terrible fright
The bugger’s been to the same shop
And bought the same things I have
The bed, cupboards and lamp shades
And on the table he even has the same Sat. Nav.
I peeped into this window
With the hope to catch him off guard
But there he was looking at me
Staring just as hard
I stood in front of the loser and cussed the most colourful words
The monkey aped every action even the moving of his lips
Then it dawned on me that he wore the same clothes
In the same pose with his hands on his hips
So infuriated, I punched the window
And ended his years of peeping tom jeer
However, the bugger is now haunting me
In every glass I happen to peer