Long Purebred Poems
Long Purebred Poems. Below are the most popular long Purebred by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Purebred poems by poem length and keyword.
GRANDMA AT THE TRACK
foolishly
i threw the rock
and appeared
to hopscotch
until the ill of my ankle
violently mocked
i chalk it all up
to forget me nots
my mind over knees
ignores
the rusty gears
as my wrinkled hand
avoids resistance
hovering a half inch
above the bannister -
safe.
now i watch youngsters skate.
those whipper snappers
with the gait of a purebred horse.
i huddle with my overloaded purse
carrying 3 cell phones and mine,
a roll of ticket winnings,
leftover candy,
then i
chase my four-year old grandson
‘round the outskirts
as he weaves between strangers
taking my heart with him.
mind you,
the thoroughbreds
are resting soundly
on the bench.
4/25/2019
Paws on the Avenue
Every afternoon ‘bout half past four
Paddy and I go out the door
No straying from our daily ritual.
Paws on Fido Avenue
Happy tails of sloppy kisses unmuzzled
Parade of canines – every kind “bone-i-fied.”
A purebred mutt strut cavalcade
Fashion parade of single coats
Long hairs march in pants
Yaps and barks and woofs
Howling hounds the moon
Canine panoply unleashed
Treats at every yard
Toys at every door
Red hydrants for pee-mail.
Delight rolls over
For belly rubs and tummy scratches
A loving pat upon the head.
No stray warm beds on winter nights
No puppies sleeping in the rain
No litter left abandoned scattered by the winds!
This march of conformation
Moves by happy gaits
Where even cats are welcomed in humane harmony.
Every afternoon ‘bout half past four
Paddy and I go out the door
For this our fantasy walk on Fido Avenue.
9-18-21
Contest: Avenue
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Our dog, Lucky, died on a Thursday.
I decided I could be sad for years,
for months, for a week, or for hours.
So what would alleviate this utter despair
and sadness?
A new dog, of course.
I searched the internet, and discovered
Sophie. Coaxed Joe into meeting the
people at a public place for me.
"She has papers," they told me on the phone.
"She is a purebred cocker."
Sophie is the only dog I have ever met
who was afraid of me.
Afraid of us..
She was a black cocker who looked
like she was starving, and was shaking profusely.
I did not want her around the grandchildren,
but Joe said, "We'll take her," and began handing
over $120 in $20's. That was the price for a pureblood.
I held her on my lap, and we were off.
Sophie reminded Joe of Blondie, a little cocker spaniel
who had been mistreated when he was a little boy.
A cocker spaniel his parents had rescued, to pamper and love.
Sophie has now become Sophie Helen, after Joe's Mom.
She adores me, cannot get enough of me, wants her
butt next to my lower back at all times, especially if
I say, "Night night, Sophie."
Joe held the phone to her ear this week when I
was in the hospital for ulcers and an inflamed colon.
"Go night night," I told Sophie across the phone wires.
Joe said she slept on the top of the couch, looking forlorn,
staring out the window, waiting for her Mommy.
Best $120 we ever spent.
By the way, her papers said
she had shots in January.
Hungry woman
Before I lay me down to sleep
I pray for a man who is not cheap
So he can buy me beautiful car
And give me shiny moon and a star
I want to have soft furry coat
And don't forget beautiful boat
I like a man with lots of money
He doesn’t even have to be funny
He should have wallet big in his pants
And take me shopping always to France
I want him to buy me lots of gold
And do anything he has been told
I love to look always divine
And drink expensive champagne and wine
I want a house big as can be
I want everything to be for me
I want a ring with white big rock
I want purebred cat and a dog
I want, I want, I wanted it all
And never settle for anything small
My man he has to be very rich
Some people tell me I’m such a witch
I’m not a witch, not witch you see
I just want all, to be for me
This poem is nothing but fiction, I write love poems, sad poems, romantic poems etc.
One day I came up with a funny one.
I hope you like it, and I hope you enjoy a little laugh... :)
I saw Tarzan,
with no clothes on.
Who knew there
was a Black Swan?
Cinderella.
got home
after midnight.
Muhammad Ali,
is looking for a fight.
Pinocchio.
tells a bunch of lies.
A new movie,
Lord of the Flies.
Aladdin turned
out to be a thief.
Don't squeeze the
Charmin,
Where's the beef?
Batman drove
200 miles per hour.
Dr. Frankenstein
screaming for
more power.
Snow White lived
with seven men.
I thought that
was a sin.
Popeye had tattoos
And smoked a pipe.
Adolf Hitler on the loose
With the Reich.
Pac-man ate pills to
Improve performance.
The Hulk got mad,
And turned enormous.
Shaggy and Scooby are hippies
With the munchies.
Brenda Spencer didn't
Like Monday's.
Underdog was dating
Molly Purebred.
Kids in Africa,
Go unfed.
Felix the cat
had a bag of tricks.
Achilles dipped in the
River Styx.
The black widow
poisons her man.
The Police singing
about Roxanne.
Turbo1904 ?
Yesterday, the snow fell, laced lazily
all across the frozen field; grace fell down.
My heart raced, apace in a minor key
troubles fled erased from me, was my frown.
Seemed semblances filled my life-weary head
so God's beauty nudged my heart-weary soul;
far off, hills became instilled white purebred
away from mad machines joy milled bold.
Now, black is white, fresh and new, clean and pure
it takes a hold of blight and sings ... out;
looks at frowns ignite, giggles light, demure.
As, the day brites sledders scream "Watch out!"
Though winter's gray days we'll recall this sight.
They're our days, our nights, dressed in Winter white.
Here we dawdle, coats, scarfs and boots in Winter white.
to freeze as frames of memory, joy's root in Winter white.
Stay with me, dream awhile, we could build an igloo?
Oh, won't you make snow angels, beauts, in Winter white.
I could put snow down your coat, toss a ball or two
believe me, " I could, I could catch YOU toots in Winter white!"
In frozen splendor, we will still, "Isn't he so cute!"
Yesterday is forever captured now SHOOT! in Winter white.
Sonnet with a Ghazal Chaser ;)
see about the poem
dedicated to Chan [nuff rhyme for you hon?]
You love your purebred. I'll love my
Whatachamacallit.
I wonder how he came to be at our back door?
I must admit
He is exquisite
For something I've never seen before.
You love your purebred. I'll love my
Whatachamacallit.
Darling he's a misfit that will fit
Right in with our children playing under
The sycamore.
I must admit
He's becoming my favorite.
God sent me something I can't ignore.
You love your purebred. I'll love my
Whatachamacallit.
Look love he has personality and wit
He brought my sleepers to me that were
Over there on the floor.
I must admit
Honey, this is going to be definite
He will live here forevermore.
You love your purebred. I'll love my
Whatchamacallit.
Now our family's complete I must admit.
Our children bought us DNA tests for Christmas.
Um, why would we want to do this?
What if we wanted to rob a bank or burglarize a home?
Aren’t these results going into an FBI data base?
We did it because they kept asking us about it.
Every nationality I wanted to be, did not show up for me.
My husband who has a German surname has always bragged.
We Germans are smart, we Germans are brilliant, we Germans.
His came back with this result. He is more English than the English.
He is ninety-seven percent English. I laughed my petootie off.
I would have at least half Native American blood, I was sure.
But alas, I did not.
I came out with Swedish, which is oddly odd.
A bit of German which was more than my husband
And mostly Pennsylvania Dutch and English.
I am a mutt, whereas he is a purebred – but not German.
Saturday Morning November 1964
My twin and I have a TV Guide in front of us
We are thrilled because we got a colored TV set yesterday.
In the TV Guide there is a peacock by the shows that are in color.
This will be the first time we have ever seen Under Dog in color!
We watch the clock.
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Under Dog music starts.
A flying underdog flashes across the sky.
He is wearing mostly red; his cape is blue.
My twin and I stare at each other.
“I thought his outfit was blue!” we both say.
We have only seen him in grayscale up until now.
Polly Purebred was a complete surprise too.
I had pictured her in green, and my sister thought she would be in pink.
She was dressed in blue.
We ate our soggy cornflakes in silence.
I felt betrayed. I am not sure how my sister felt.
It is like seeing a movie after you have read the book
and have pictured the characters completely different.
My cat is picky; my cat is persnickety.
My cat likes to play with mice; my cat's best friend is a snake.
My cat is aloof; my cat is stuck up.
My cat ignores me; my cat writes me hate notes.
My cat is snotty; my cat is snobbish.
My cat is my best friend; my cat is my only friend.
My cat has papers; my cat is a purebred.
My cat scares the neighbors, my cat scares me.
My cat is jealous; my cat is envious.
My cat watches TV; my cat critiques Michael Moore’s documentaries.
My cat is running for office; my cat is trumping him by a twenty-eight percent margin.
Why do kitty-mamas like to Cat-Up-Each-Other?
(Just between us, I would not want either of these cats).