Long Pig Poems
Long Pig Poems. Below are the most popular long Pig by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pig poems by poem length and keyword.
In 1985, we had three daughters.
They were 5, 10, and 11.
So life was fun, of course.
Each daughter had a gerbil.
Flopsy, Crumbone and Taylor.
Don’t ask me which is which.
They are rodents.
I broke my leg on a Thursday.
In 5 places, trying to ride a bike to the day care
Center to pick up the 5-year- old because my
Husband had the car, and the police will come
Pick up the 5-year-olds who are left after 6.
This is California, where everything is weird.
My mom who had never flown on a plane,
Flew out wearing wings pinned to her bosom
on Saturday.
It’s a wonder I wasn’t already dead.
I was expecting that actually.
By evening she had fought the dogs
For their cooking pans full of water.
These dog-food pans were soon sterilized and
cooking spaghetti. And there was garlic
bread too, hot, piping, out of
an oven or something.
Home-made food!
My daughters were astounded.
They thought food came from
Styrofoam with restaurant
Names on it.
On Tuesday Mom was doing the 18,482
Pieces of laundry we had used the week
Before, and she said, “Caren, come over
Here.” I hobbled over on my crutches,
Which was not easy.
“I think a guinea pig is dead,” she whispered.
I poked it with a hoe. It did not move.
I poked it with a broom.
Nothing still.
We have to announce this
Delicately, my mother said in
Hushed tones of reverence.
We did not mention it during breakfast.
We did not mention it during lunch.
My mother kept looking at me expectantly.
By supper time after yelling for the three
Girls to come downstairs, and being ignored
I lost it and yelled, “A GUINEA PIG IS DEAD!”
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
Wailing and keening began.
“That was subtle,” my mother told me.
Yes, it was.
Form:
We’d better go help her.
She’s got almost too much pig to handle.
These old farmers were snickering into their coffee cups
At the restaurant where they keep them on hooks
A local place
What are they talking about? I asked the waitress
Her name badge said Judy
She had an assortment of pins on her uniform
“Just wait until eight a.m. You’ll see,” she said.
At eight o’clock the Mistress of Pig town sauntered past the diner.
The old farmers were straining their necks for a closer look.
My mouth fell open.
She was gorgeous, and young enough to be their great granddaughters.
She had an Elvira Mistress of the Dark vibe about her.
I could not stop looking either.
See why they want to go help her? The waitress asked.
The old farmers rushed to pay their bill.
They all wanted to get out there for a closer look.
Not only was the pig too much to handle.
I knew she was too much for them handle too.
I caught the waitress’s eye and we both laughed.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To jump in muddy puddles.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To go outside when it rains.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To have dirty hands and feet to wash.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To muddle things up.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To listen to your parents.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
For girls and boys to play with the same toys.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To Love reading books.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To giggle at mealtime.
Pepa pig says it is ok,
To go to bed early if you feel tired.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To be a little scared and still have fun.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To tell others they should be kind.
Peppa pig says it is Ok,
To choose when you you need help.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To feel being you is awesome.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
For adults to watch her program.
Peppa pig says it is ok,
To feel the need for some alone time.
Peppa Pig says it is Ok,
To switch off the TV,
And go find a muddy puddle.
Thanks, God, for Peppa pig,
For telling us to keep it real.
Thanks, God, for helping Peppa pig
Bring back what is real,
And give hope to those living in the virtual world.
We found each other in a roadside bar in some desolate place,
she saw me from the other side,
the band that was playing wasn't carrying,
so I decided to let her come approach me...
I carry with me a soft gaze as she politely understands me,
her eyes captured my dreams for the next three days...
It was a heartfelt intervention-
we had a couple drinks,
we understood what the local talk was about,
and with tales becoming tangles,
there became less need for words,
only laughs and strokes,
...following of vibrations around the room,
and the danger...
Because I thought you had forgot-
that one tiny moment in time-
when it happens to me,
oh so fine.
She keeps blessing me with the utmost intelligence,
as I sit not thinking,
like kittens on pedestals,
before they learn to break the rules,
just like energetic fools...
I found character unlike anything I have been able to endure.
But anger evades my soul,
and if I accept anger-
I accept an angry soul,
and if I wished upon a bowl
to solve my whole whole,
I'd tender you gold...
Please make my soul,
in this age of 'you go to school,'
and 'I cant help but drool,'
oh what foreign mystique
could evade those wide eye's?
I know how I fall in far
and then out the other side.
Like my grip on my ride,
on the freeway doin' 95...
Legal as being high in some hippy's eye.
But I am still just a suffering pig
who doesn't eat sorbet,
who justifies readiness
with real time face,
who lives out his days
traditional and gay,
giving out blessings to people who should thank.
Oh Ye Pig
Let me understand you and feel your pain
For you have been labeled unclean
And a derogotory name to many
Some refuse to have you on there plate
While others can't keep you off there plate
I see you led as the sheep to the slaughter
To see you in your entrapment
You love to eat and I notice roll in the mud
As if you are digging a hole for more water
Now we will pause and remember when
You had a good shepherd that kept His eyes on you
You would graze in the meadows
Having an unlimited amount of food
Just enjoying the company of the others
There was a lake for when you would thirst
Then came a man full of demons
The demons entertained him for a long time
Causing him to be cast out into the tombs
Jesus came by him one day and cast them out
The demons said we can at least go into the pigs
So Jesus did allow this, it was around 2 thousand
And when the demons entered these pigs
They knew right away and took notice
As one took off to the lake they all did
They wanted the water to try and wash this off
But the only way was to drown
So now in there entrapment they are digging
A hole so if a human walks by and evil spirit
Comes there way they have a puddle to hide there head under to escape this lifestyle
From the legend of a wise pig herd
So why do humans entertain unclean spirits
And not even know it in everyday life
For they cant recognize this within
Because this is what man desires in the flesh
When one gets tired of all the foolishness
Jesus shall drop a running fountain on your head
And wash you clean to have rest for your soul
Then you will become led as a sheep to be slaughter
Sheila is riding her pig Petals to Pumpkin town.
They plan to leave the second they leave down town.
At Pumpkin town they will see flowers and such.
It is a place I have been and I love it very much.
If there is room on the pig, I might hitch a ride.
I hear that he can fly too, and it would be fun to glide
Oh, drat! I missed it; they just bounced off of that cloud.
They will be landing soon, they are both soft, not loud
Sheila is lucky to have such a pretty pink pet.
I may have to get a rooster, a dog or a kitty named Bet.
Named for my mother, Karri Lynne Betty Veronica Sue.
My parents argued about names, so what else could they do?
In Manipur's lush forests so bright,
Khamba and Nongban ventured with delight,
Seeking blooms to adorn with care,
An altar to Lord Thangjing, their hearts were sworn to share.
Through dense woods, Khamba's path did wind,
Wildflowers' scent and earth's damp design,
Birds sang sweet, leaves rustled free,
A waterfall's roar, a sight to see.
A towering tree, with orchids so fine,
Hanging elegantly, a divine sign,
Khamba's eyes widened, wonder did shine,
As Nongban's gaze, with envy did entwine.
With care, Khamba plucked the bloom so rare,
Petals shimmering, like Lai Haraoba's glare,
Nongban's eyes gleamed, admiration did show,
Khamba felt wonder, in nature's gentle flow.
I’m upset with smug Peter Pig
Who’d promised we could dance a jig
But spies my bent trotter
Gets nasty - the rotter
I call him an ignorant prig!
I’ve got a disability
But nothing will ever stop me
I’m a feisty young sow
So I'll never kowtow
Swing dancing makes me so happy
How quickly I'd learned how to dance -
Six lessons from my cousin Lance
When I dance Lindy Hop
I just don’t want to stop
My dancing may lead to romance
Young Percy took me by the hand
Well trotter; but you’ll understand
When we danced the pig jive
He made me feel alive
We’re dating now, life is just grand!
8,8,6,6,8 checked with how any syllables
Tall Tales 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jeff Kyser
03/13/22
Pig Patty Plop ran into the Laundry mat,
From the awful butcher she was hiding.
Tired, busy mommy was taking some shirts out,
Bubbles hit the floor, and Patty was soon sliding.
She tried to hide under a young child's chair,
But the child let out an enormous scream.
She jumped into a white plastic laundry basket,
But her enormously fat posterior was not clean.
An apron-ed butcher walked in and glared around,
A maniacal man, holding his butcher knife.
On a cell phone we called the police in town.
and they arrested him, detectives from vice.
The pig was hailed a hero, and honored in the town hall.
Saving the rest of the crew from a butcher, deranged, was he.
As a prize for saving the rest of the patrons, eleven in all,
She was allowed to take a spin in washer number thirty- three
Darest Vicar –
They were like pig-watchers
Watching over the canvass
Of new songs harping campus liberty;
Darest Vicar –
They were security women:
For they were men
Separated from the cause of man!
Security women: swollen of bellies
(Now as if aware of little old tricks)
Stood still like the world spying
The manhood of a proud pig and pigs;
Security women wisened by securites
(Used on men of the mines: here!)
Only stood still spying –
Then, from this rostrum of fake sermons
Your canvas lay bared:
A corpse withdrew from the cant;
Your legs descended swiftly:
Pig-watchers and pigs escaped via backyard.
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