Long Pees Poems
Long Pees Poems. Below are the most popular long Pees by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pees poems by poem length and keyword.
The rolling humpback hills
dips down into the valley
Fading off into the horizon.
Giving the illusions of vast herds of buffalos.
Roaming and grazing peacefully
Across the sun lite plains,
Over fertile fields of wheat and wild grasses.
Stretching into native lakes,
Surrounded by tall-growing bulrush weeds,
And cattails gracefully arching into magical gateways,
with every little breeze, your imagination
travels on a journey with mother nature.
Riding the flowing rivers filled with speckled trout shimmering across the sun lite waters.
Up Over the moss, and onto the banks beyond the tee pees into wind swept prairies with herds of buffalos
and dancing with daffodils bending and swaying,
over the grassy hills and dales.
in your imagination
Lately folks, my mind has been somewhat dusty,
I "think" I heard of some new kind of disease.
Plus, my cognition has been somewhat rusty,
I keep forgetting where I put my keys!
I'm late!, I'm late!, for a very important date,
But...I don't remember with who or where.
I can't explain why my brain makes me wait,
I just know sometimes, I feel like the "March Hare!"
I can't find my keys, I can't find my wallet,
I remember my age, but I forget the date.
I can't find my...uhh, what do you call it?
It must be some hereditary fate!
When family drops by, they won't tell me why,
And, more to the point, they forget their manners!
Won't clean up their mess, Hell, they won't even try!
It makes my brain quake, like that dude in "Scanners!"
Well, y'all know how much "Uncle Fred" loves to drink,
And for an added bonus, here's a tasty treat.
He tosses the dirty butt wipes in the sink,
Or, forgets to put the lid up, and pees on the seat!
My "Siblings" announce: They're here for a week!
But, they forget to tell me, I'll foot the bill.
Plus, their dog "Crotch" has a permanent leak,
Then leaves his "Bark" on the wall and the sill!
"Ole Grampa Gus," yeah, he makes the biggest fuss,
He hides candy in every crevice and nook.
While he makes life "Hell" for the rest of us,
He's spouting out scripture from the "Good Book!"
I'm not even going to start on my "Mom!"
The grievances are many and way too long!
Like the time she slapped me before going to Prom,
"Don't mess with those "Gals," they don't know right from wrong!"
Thankfully, "Dad" died over thirty years or more,
Ah, those little graces in life can't be beat!
He'd come home plastered, and bust thru the door,
Then I'd have to deal with another busted seat!
Yep, the more it advances, the more I agree,
This isn't such a bad thing, sporting this disease.
I'll be right back, after I take a good pee,
Hey Darlin'...how 'bout one more cup of "Dementia" please!
The Wonder Mobile broke today
Of course it would happen
Why wouldn’t it
4 cylinders running on 3
Getting out to push probably much faster
Poor little Corolla
It had a hard life.
Neglected some love’n
It pees all over, grumbles when it starts
Brakes kind of funny, but the horn is loud
Might not stop on a dime
But you will hear me coming
Washed twice in 11 years
Driven around the block to go next door
Years of waking up in wonder
Will my car start today?
Am I catching the bus today?
It all caught up to me today
Maybe I will drive to the Ferrari lot
Trade it in, what can I get
Maybe I will humble myself
Fix the Wonder Mobile
Give it some love’n
And wash it a third time
=======
True story, my car really did break today.
=======
Revoking Doc's License #1
A word from the State Medical Board committee
The #1 injection will always be P.D.
Doc, I am considering to slam you out of pity
I do not mess with poets whose licenses come from Hello Kitty.
You overdose my patient RED, getting down to the nitty gritty.
At this time, your practice has been revoke
For coming after me as I wear my black cloak.
I got a grip on my scythe pressed against your throat.
Pees running down your legs leaving you all soak
Doc, I got your body full of Narcotics and Painkillers as a joke.
Dropping you like a lawsuit on the examination table with one smack.
Denying you morphine as your vasectomy goes wrong in this attack
I already drove you insane labeling you a quack.
Your hand I flushed in (TRANQUILIZER), slapping you with a black Jack.
Waking up without your gems blood all over your sack.
Restrain you in a straitjacket, throwing you in a padded room.
Covered in your own s*it as you were in your mother’s womb
Poet-ing like a disco biscuit on ecstasy, before I made you go SKAT-boom!
Engraving your Poetic Doctor Degree on the outside of your tomb.
With the words that speak, P.D. was the cause of your poetic doom.
by;P.D.
the end nears with Jesus and witches
let us hope there are no more glitches
little baby wears a mask in the manger
conceived socially distant without danger
no Golgotha crowd but liked tweeted clips
zoom calls for blurring out the Lords hips
immaculate censorship under lockdown
Amazon send the Saviour a virtual crown
due to panic buying there is no shortfall
of hygienic wipes for disinfecting our wall
by divine fortune rusty nails are also on offer
only the blood of Christ is scarce to proffer
Netflix shows reruns of a sound-bitten tale
a broker insists Christmas must be for sale
Wall Street continues with arms as a treasure
delivers lost lives and legs for good measure
conspiracy theorists say the Messiah was real
Wikileaks concurs but is brought to heel
by purveyors of halos spiked rosaries and zeal
as smoke cries for free ashes for dispersal
on graves boneyards and rotten rehearsal
a cat pees on the tree and needs to be spayed
Sigmund Freud calls for complex castration
of subconscious death wishes and propagation
in need for seeds to be neutered for creation
reality caves in and we must remove the stone
together we’re united Sisyphus is never alone
video calls remind us that the virus lives on
crosses borders without passports to and from
no visa required no customs only free trade
for hypocrisy bigotry Egos not easily slayed
what I would give for rewinding the legend
and attend carol singing and school’s pageant
in person not be stuck with oversized meals
walk freely to food banks attempting to heal
falsity ingratitude injustice entitlement schism
the infant itself may not be above criticism
but glitter and presents wrapped in blindness
are no substitute for love and true kindness
compassion does not require an opulent mall
no masses no pining nor spruce ever so tall
It’s time for reflection faith reason emotion
not notional piety and once yearly devotion
for Christ’s sake let’s stop moaning and start
to share from a warm and good-natured heart
24th December 2020
Wherever peaches grow I go and pick 'em.
When they get ripe I try and swipe 'em.
The farmer runs out with a shotgun and wonders where's the varmint gone?
I'm hiding by the railroad tracks stacking the peaches I've found.
Then a freight train about a mile long rolls by hauling a bucket of rain.
I hop aboard while beautiful clouds gather to the north.
I put my peaches in the bucket and lug it to a hidden part of the train.
The rain begins, the night looms in, it's summer and it's thoughts and warm.
To the clacking rumble and the patter I close my eyes and dream.
An earthquake swallows up the people who wear horrible masks of fright as
their daily tasks are trampled.
In a favorite movie theater an illumined lady puts her hand in mine, warm
mouths, breath, skin, hair wing-soft, whole bodies, wind, bare.
I open my eyes at sunrise there's a steady glow of light around.
If you can believe in God, you can believe the mountains go from purple to
green.
While the last partier meanders home to bed the first farmer is up to milk his
bread.
Fruit of the world ripens audibly and cities make a silent, distant sound.
Lonely guy stretches, rubs his eyes, pees out a passing train, has a
breakfast of peaches and rainwater.
lets meat-
my mary friends for a pot LUCK meal
at my plaice
colleen can you m a k e
your hale mary chilly
patricia please make your suite
bury pi
steve l o o k i n g foreword to the
grate stake you fry
I will
by wight whine and read whine
and brown and wight bred
owe deer dessert !
monica HOW about
pair moose . . .
and sum 1 bring p i c k l e s and beats
our GREEN will be pees
and later we will have tee-
I t h i n k that's write !
wee will meat at the our of ate
on SATURDAY next weak . . .
___________________________
December 2, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/'u wanna piece of me'
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9680-29-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
If I had to choose between taking my pills to feel numb
And not taking my pills to feel everything at 100 percent, I’d feel glum.
When I feel, I truly feel every single thing,
Every good and bad moment life can bring.
But you see, when I put it like that, I’d prefer to take my pills,
Feel nothing, an empty void, just going through the drills.
Yet, when I think of it, I’d rather not take my dose,
Because my essence is gone, the me who laughs, who glows.
The person who laughs with her best friend until she almost pees,
When those moments vanish, alone with thoughts like these,
I wish to turn it off, as if it were a switch,
Just numb the bad thoughts, leave the good, but life’s not that rich.
So it’s either feel it all, with the good and the bad,
Or feel nothing at all, just existing, and that’s sad.
That void sounds delightful, it is until you’re with your kin,
Can’t share their happiness, try hard, but can’t fit in.
I’d like to say it hurts, but it doesn’t, I’m just a void,
Feeling nothing beats the depression I’ve tried to avoid.
They’ll say, “Just get off your meds,” if only it were so light,
Nothing’s easy in this world, it’s a constant fight.
In this world, you don’t live, you survive the strife,
Get tired of trying, go back on meds, to numb your life.
People say you’re cold-hearted, feeling nothing at all,
But there’s a difference they don’t see, it’s a different call.
As long as the depressive episodes are gone, you’ll be alright,
But when off your meds, emotions come back, a fierce fight.
What to do then, but go back on the meds, choose the void over pain,
There’s your switch, on or off, in the constant rain.
So, is your switch on or off, which way do you lean?
In this struggle, there’s no clear answer, just what you’ve seen.
Mike was ridin' shotgun
I was sittin' on the hump
Ledford's got the steering wheel
There's the devil in our trunk
Drivin' up to Sherkston
For a day of sun an' fun
Doin' ninety miles an hour
That's how Jerry liked to 'run'
Headin' towards bikini beach
On a road called Thunder Bay
Flying by the local yuks
And laughin' all the way
Glove box stuffed with Genny Cream
Women filled our head
Passin' blind on narrow roads
Lucky we're not dead
Jerry pulls out left again
To pass this lumberin' truck
But there's a 'semi' comin' up ahead
I think we need some luck
Jerry's wearin' a devil grin
Gas pedal's on the floor
I'm just hangin' on for life
As we hear that big truck roar
In just a half a heartbeat
that Ford swerves to the right
Jerry's grinnin' ear to ear
Mike pees his pants from fright
Jerry dives from the high board
A graceful perfect swan
I meet these cool hot chicks 'bout then
While Mike puts clean shorts on
written 2018.10.31
Heavenly Flushes
It makes one wonder if the angels blush
When heavenly loos need a stately flush
When it pees with rain do they feel exposed
Are toilets in heaven made from fine gold.
There’s another thing that I’d wish to know
To where o where do heaven’s flushes flow
Is pee angel rain, is earth heaven’s drain
Is that what helps grow a floral domain.
I got an answer that came in a dream
Heaven has a purifying machine
Angels pee is scent with magic content
Made from the master’s creative intent.
So do not be afraid to drink water
Every sister, brother, son or daughter
Streams, rivers and sea are pure as can be
Thank the angels for their gift of sweet pee.
7th October 2021
The Throne in Heaven Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jack Webster