Long Pubic Poems
Long Pubic Poems. Below are the most popular long Pubic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pubic poems by poem length and keyword.
Four years ago, awakened from deep sleep
in the middle of the night
Room was spinning wildly
body wracked with fright
Then later on that same night
a little further down the track
A second episode !! What the hell is going on ??
Why is this body out of whack ??
Next morning vertigo !!
struggling just to walk and feeling rather sick
Three days later, large lump above the ear
and there embedded a much engorged nasty paralysis tick
Took four months, vertigo gradually abated ,full health finally resumed
That's how long it took after tick it was exhumed
Six months ago, a tick embedded in the shoulder blade
that's where it nestled so some blood it could ingest
One month later and after tick removal, tightening of the muscles
all way down the back , plus muscles and soreness of bones, that surround the chest
Following paralysis tick bites there does exist
a dis-eased state in the body , has title of Lyme
Not recognised in Australia, have experienced Lyme symptoms
after paralysis tick bites, each and every time
Checked the on line library once again, re this subject Lyme
re cause of symptoms that have been endured
And how to overcome Lyme affliction
have found an antidote, feeling much assured
Codolepsis root includes substance quinine,
available in tincture form
Tonic water also flavoured with quinine,
takes a week or so for body to regain a state of norm
Now also use preventative, citronella oil to distract paralysis tick
extracted from a native Aussie gum
Every day applied prior to venturing out
upon the head, the upper body, don't forget to do the bum!!
And just two days ago another bloody tick below citronella oil
and embedded in the pubic hair
Applied clove oil, my wife with the tweezers,
performed extraction OUCH !!!! whilst I was seated on a chair
Now my hands buried
In my pant, my hair all mated
Resting on my warm:
In the back of my head
"The vulva is an altar, and the pubic hairs are the flames upon the altar."(quote)
resting on my warm...was your imaginary hands,
Your notification startles me
A cold bed, noisy neighbors
And all I want is you.....
You are my one and only desire,
I crave your body, your soul
Your heart, and your only yours(quotes)
July 8th, 2022, I fly over the cuckoo’s nest
Here I am today with you feeding my addiction
this admiration without love is the fruit of reflection
Your values, my custom, and my abilities to comprehend:
One day you will search through the lonely earth for me,
However, would I be there,
Would I at the moment in time care?
My library card is overdue/ or it my libido (??
Don’t make me beg, don’t make me cheat
My friends said to me,
The sweetest lips deserve a kiss
But whom am I to ask for this (quote)Pj.)
My true confession of a low sX.s .s drive, chick.
These countries that preach about hating terrorism
supports such acts financially overturning basic rights
Strong statements without knowledge carry little value
look to the bright side where trust is lacking
Intelligence has next to no faith if used backwards
manipulating talks takes these shady turns to falsely accuse
The twisting of classified information brews with soaring energy costs
liars harbour ungodly thoughts towards the truth
rocketing prices drawing on borderlines
Power carries a huge human sacrifice to achieve its goal
bloodbaths feed the rich, it all boils down to creating fear
Politically working on people to accept mayhem
this deal signed incorrectly against peace proves one thing
sins are passed on with this false identity shaping justice
Acceptance seems to be the new tolerance ignored
tortured like dogs victims say evil will fall in the end
no good ways erode democratic views to hold council
Freedom of speech in its uniform is under attack
opinion under pubic scrutiny paints this horrid picture
where good is considered ugly for being honest
Miles and miles of open country pass as the train moves.
A sudden thrust, jolt then nothing. The earth stands still.
Wind circulates pushing branches, leaves dance with the melody..
We sit..
Or movement halted by a slow moving freight,
we do an unheard of twenty five miles per hour.
I need a shower, shave, clean clothes.
A bathroom stench overwhelmingly horrific,
waste scented essence in the air,
mixed with the body odor of many
who share.
On the toilet seat,
look,
a pubic hair..
Finally, we slowly begin to move.
A conductor walks past checking destinations screaming:
"Next stop Chicago."
Passengers gather their belongings furious for the twelve hour delay.
Glossy eyes, scowls, a common look amongst the strangers.
Again, the train stops, deep breaths and a few colorful phrases
spout from a dozen or so.
A group of five sit and curse the situation,
hoping for a new permutation.
Hunger, fatigue, and back spasms corrupt my mood.
I am in need of food.
Sleep is not something that my body has seen.
The ride so far not peaceful, nor serene.
The delay has caused my lay-over to cease
causing me to jump trains hungry.
Where the meals range between $8.50-$15.00 a piece.
As I run to my next long acting bedroom on rails,
I smell food in the distance, hamburgers, fries, and chicken.
Oh, how this experience has sickened me.
........:JP)
the beatles
were right when
they wrote day
tripper instead
of night
~
flight of the bummble
bee could have been a
hummingbird but
heard played on
a tuba was an
elephant that
couldn't
waltz
~
the warning label
clearly states that:
if combined
with alcohol
may induce
sleepiness
~
my doctor's warning
has always been my:
medication
if combined
with alcohol
may induce
sleepiness
i'm just
trying to
redefine:
mixed
drinks
~
so the poem
~
in the tentacles of floppy
chathuluesque suggested
relish not chutney but
relishing something
that might be more
than reefer madness
or the badass
happiness of
a once in a life
time opium ride
things don't seem
to slide or collide
they really are what
your guitar strummed
them into becoming
never flat as a tire
or a Dali watch i
can't hang
around too
much unless
i truly want to
confess and
make myself
dead
dangling
hang man's
noose told
the truth so
the truth be
told since i'm
just hanging
around i at
first thought
but now my
brain is just
stuck on an
oxygen loss
but this is
unusual
since
most
at this
moment
have ginger
bread neck snaps
and have pooped and
peed their own pants
butt i'm receiving
like an antenna
ant tv telling me
i need to keep
my teeth clean
not forgetting
to floss so
what's up
with that
pubic
hair
after
eating
a slice of
her hair oh
my her pie in
another poem
where sweetness
just dropped in the
other or what wait for
the other snowflake i let
her drift
in my head
all day maybe
be coming a
snow torn
ado
a do
a deux
i did
so, si, i do
Form:
Know that I worship you on bended knee;
with kisses, too, I prize your tempting breasts
and maiden-head which begs me to molest
your virgin sex so deep and lustfully;
for each fine breast I'd give one-thousand years,
but more will I give for that pubic crest
of yellow wires that conceal the rest,--
(belovéd, I'd give an age for those frontiers!).
If I can give a kingdom for your heart
and love upon more love then be it so,
for possessing the best of you apart
from zeal invites only misery and woe:
a prince I'd rather be and just depart
from your globe than grieve you so, this I know.
Put on his red bathers you're joking
Too tight something out front it was poking
found another old pair
to cover up pubic hair
He's now off to the ocean for soaking
Now he's looking quite bronze and quite fancy
Ready to meet his girlfriend who's called Nancy
on the sand they will walk
hold hands while they talk
One day she might be his fiancee
Find a spot that's private and shady
to skinny dip with his beautiful lady
several others have come
they see his lily white bum
His girl's given surname it's O'grady
From ocean water body's cool, appetisingly salty
Sun burnt skin's feeling sore and quite faulty
He wants to bonk on the shore
She says no that's for sure
He says your excuse is unloving and paltry
His ex girlfriends name was Cecelia
Too often he wanted to feel her
with legs very bandy
he was often so randy
In the sun in in the hay made love to this sheila
Now this oversexed man so begotten
So naughty they smacked his big bottom
but he wasn't deterred
still did what he preferred
Loved underwear made out of soft cotton
Now it's summer he's feeling quite warm
Many old tricks he does often perform
out in his work shed
there's a double sized bed
Where they shed all the clothes that are worn
It's now time for a warm summer party
Can attend it's casual not arty farty
still daylight at nine
have a whopping good time
Good conversation and laughter that's hearty
(ah miss bing amiss with former mistress)
Oh Glenda (Miz Gee gee)
years elapsed since, I didst hawk
verboten fruit adrip
from yar verdant bough,
thy strong craven raven
doth still twitter and flip
sans thy testosterone switch,
where woody pecker missus grip
ping re: egret ting prospective
relationship nixed thee
as gull friend material, hip
mistress, though heron eye did pay lip
service verily org*s mic* lee quip
yes...wren doer ring
more'n commit Freudian slip
which peeping cardinal tip
towing thru nested tulip trip
gave balled oriole peck whip
ping lil s*x pistol be
friending chirping pu**y riot
inserting thingmabob
after pants sigh did un zip.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Egg gad unlike rob bin duck cradle
yar mature red breast all aswirl
asper a stationary dreidel
ma** aery ducts mine mouth pursed
yar nipples mine gums did ladle.
Only in memory, aye
hungrily thirst and thirstily hunger
fort deux aureole dye
still affecting this gab
bird, who didst deign
as milquetoast guy.
Whenever this birdman alone
his thoughts metaphorically drone
worm wayward toward
pubic thatch, where
hello kitty doth purr and groan
of quintessentially
kinky coiled hair moan
ning softly as thee
bared naked lady lies prone
admiring pinkish puckered
def flesh tone.
Hey you!
Yeah, you.
Know what I plan to do?
I’ll spread Vaseline all over your windshield
And Krazy Glue your wipers in place.
I’ll insert sewing needles, point up,
Into your driver’s seat cushion.
I’ll put dog poop in your air vents
And a dead fish in the bottom of your glove box.
I'll write your cell phone number and email address
On restroom walls at truck stops and sleazy taverns.
I’ll scatter thumbtacks on the shag carpet
On your side of the bed and spit curses into your pillow case.
I’ll fill your shoes with menthol shaving gel.
I’ll smear anchovy paste on the crotch of all of your panties
and put them neatly back in your drawer.
I’ll mix pubic hairs in with your tuna salad,
Dissolve laxatives and sleeping pills in your split pea soup,
Replace your mouthwash with Windex,
Scratch my anus with your toothbrush,
Piss in your bottle of scotch and then...
And then I’ll start to get nasty.
Trust me.
I’m just getting warmed up.
Have another scotch.
Dear Lady,
I heard you say that you still trust President Trump
to do almost as good a job as he says he is doing,
despite all the lies,
because "they all do that",
just say whatever the audience of the moment
would most like to hear.
Really?
I believe Abraham Lincoln,
our first Republican President,
would be surprised to hear his Gettysburg Address
was "telling them what they want to hear"
in his best cheerleader,
go, fight, win voice.
And it seems to me that Thomas Jefferson,
one of the PreRepublican forefather type Presidents,
would object to hear his rather specific name-calling
Declaration of Independence from plutocratic,
and perhaps greedy, and maybe slightly cynical, Elitists,
was just telling the good King what he really wanted to hear.
But regardless of whether our quality standards for Presidential integrity
should reasonably be expected to go up,
now that we're into our 40th-something incarnation of this Office,
or reasonably be expected to go down
after the first two or three, or sixteen,
or whatever
back in ancient integrity times,
when the premillennial pubic person was worth his/her word
in trust repaid.
How can you trust a President
who is significantly less sure of your right to health and climate care giving
and receiving
for yourself
and for our multiculturing grandkids,
than was the former President?
How is that going in a direction that you
and your healthy extended pro-life family,
your tribe,
neighborhood militia,
or paranoid klan,
or whatever
you continue to trust
as some direction that could be good enough
for those you love the most?
Health,
like racism
and sexism,
does not optimally arrive in individual-portioned packages;
they only sustain resilient climaxes
on interdependent through empty and bereft social scales
of qualities for cooperative wealth v WinLose competing pathologies.
Still Listening
Your Democratic HealthAsWealth Advocate