Long Redneck Poems
Long Redneck Poems. Below are the most popular long Redneck by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Redneck poems by poem length and keyword.
Out in the country that’s where I’m from.
The Northern Plains, Redneck to some.
Born and bred by God’s own hands.
We’re tough as hell and rule these lands.
From the Red River Valley to the great Black Hills.
We follow one law and do Gods will.
We’ve paid our debt, formidable and ready.
Tred on me and I'll rock you steady.
We hail from the North and from the South.
Known far and wide by word of mouth.
We are the strong who protect the weak.
God’s chosen few are of whom I speak.
We’ll never fall we watch the many.
Our guns and ammo are good and plenty.
We run on faith and fueled by love.
We are protected from up above.
I’m a white redneck poet, who hails from the North
Many of you know me and the morals I bring forth
I may not look friendly or dress all that nice
But if you come to my door hungry, you’ll get my last slice
I love the outdoors, I love to have fun and fish
I’ll never judge your sexual orientation or how you chose to dish
I have two perfect sons who shine in any crowd
One is gay and one is straight, and they both make me quite proud
Whether you are black or white, transgender, gay or straight
I will respect and love you unconditionally and never berate
I love my dogs, my boys, my guns and my wife
If you bring harm to any one of them, you’ll be risking your way of life
God made us all in his image, no afterthought
There is only love in his heart, hate there is not
He is all knowing and perfect, he makes no mistakes
He created each one of us, and none are fakes
She has such a girlie truck, she must be quite a woman.
How do you know it’s a woman’s truck?
Look at the color. It is Fuchsia.
So Fuchsia has to be a woman’s color?
Um, yah!
He is such a redneck.
I say, “watch and learn.”
My pal Spencer comes tearing out of the house.
He is wearing a tank top and cut offs that are way too high.
His pockets are hanging out of the fringy slits!
There is an orange lei around his neck.
He gives me a little dance step and a twirl.
“What was that?” the redneck asked.
That was my friend, Spencer. I say.
“Is Spencer a girl’s name?” He asks me.
I walk away.
I grew up with Country music
Loved its simple themes
It’s been my constant joy
For ever or so it seems.
Bobby Bare’s on the Bose
Singing a tear jerking song
And I’m sitting there listening
And quietly singing along.
Sunday morning session one
Of those times I like the most
Playing Country music
Belly full of buttered toast.
A working man’s music
From earthier days
Telling redneck tales
Telling redneck ways.
I’m a Yorkshire country boy,
A redneck farm worker’s son
Who was given the chance
To progress and move on.
No redneck work for me
No need to labour on the land
A chance give to me by
My dad’s work hardened hands.
The Sunday morning session
Helps roll back the years
And I think of mam and dad
Surreptitiously wiping tears.
Yorkshire red neck values,
From village childhood days
All come back to mind as
My Sunday Country music plays.
For most of my life
I’ve walked around blind
Never watching the news
Kept an open mind
One day I was informed
“You sound like a liberal”
I felt rather scorned
The subject was literal
I took a step back
And replied, “okay”
I love the blacks
And respect the gays
Perhaps the left wing
Has a vacant seat
But what shall I bring
I refuse kissing feet
So very unworthy
To judge another
When my hands are dirty
Dear sister, brother
But I’ve come to see
Accusations weren’t true
You don’t know me
As I don’t know you
Not defined by race
Class or career
We all deserve grace
Redneck or *****
I’m tired of the hate
And our pride being burned
The art of debate
Is yet to be learned
It ain't the pork, it ain't the beans
It ain't the mustard on saltines
It ain't the redneck social scenes
I love about the south
It ain't the ice cold sweet southern tea
It ain't the way that we say please
It ain't the way we lemon squeeze
I love about the south
It ain't the perfect slice of pecan pie
It ain't the wink in the bullfrog's eyes
It ain't the fireflies that light the night
I love about the south
It ain't the way we say yes ma'am
When you visit Alabam
It ain't the attitude of yes we can
I love about the south
It ain't the way that we say ya'll
With the syrupy sweet southern draw
No it ain't none of that at all
I love about the south
It's the crisp clear starry nights
Through the shifting shadows of the loblolly pine
As I stand here with your hand in mine
I love about the south
Just the fact that you are here
And that I can hold you near
As I hear you call me dear
I love about the south
I actually love everything about the South.....
You’ll find that I have core beliefs, that are not written in any one book.
I believe that Jesus loves me. He’s all around, so please, take a look.
He doesn’t give me what I may want, or an answer to every prayer.
But he gives me exactly what I need, and the assurance that he’ll always be there.
I’ll never worship fine paper, or the ink you’ll find printed on each page.
I trust what he puts in my heart, and I’m thankful for his generous wage.
He was there when my dear mother died, and he came for my father as well.
I’ve always felt his loving hands, every time that I climbed up and fell.
This man was not American, he was born far across the sea.
He never closed his borders, and he died for both you and me.
All of us have an obligation to stand up and do what is right.
Whenever evil threatens, that’s when we must go and fight.
I’ve heard we should mind our business and watch out for only our own.
Would you ever tell that to God, and wished that he left you alone?
I don’t care if you’re a city slicker, or a redneck in a chevy or ford.
My faith lies in each one of you, and in Jesus, my savior and Lord.
I LOVE AND I HATE YOU THE SAME
How dare you love me, have you no shame? I'm not just touched I'm insane. I'm wickedly evil, a cheatin' lil' weasel, Jackass is my first and last name. I'm Joe Dirt when I flirt, Cousin Eddie of work, I aspire to the least I can be. I'm chronically unemployed and ambitiously viod, and my honor died mercilessly. I smoke like a chimney, and drink like a fish, I'm a gamblin' man and also a snitch. I'm short, fat, and bald, I don't come when I'm called, I'm likely passed out in a ditch.
I love you and I hate you the same.
I just can't put out this flame.
I'm a low down, peckerwood, loathsome, misunderstood, weak willed, red pilled, rootin tootin, drinkin, shooting, down and dirty, 30-30, back alley clan rally, hillbilly, redneck, hick.
You're hateful and mean, birthing many mens' genes, and now youre hittin the wall. Gangly & toothless, spiteful & ruthless, you smell like meth and Pall Malls. Stripping's behind you, bills are all past due. You ain't nothin but a booty call. You were ferally raised, dropped out in fifth grade, you're immune to morals, judgment, and mace. One leg is bowed, you sound like a toad, and you use saddle soap on your face.
I love you and I hate you the same.
I just can't put out this flame.
She's a botox, detox, skin n bones, silicone, Harper valley, mustang Sally, misfit, hypocrite, "Cops" viral hissy fit, easy, sleazy, dollar store cheesy, hillbilly, redneck, chick.
We scream and we cuss, and we never discuss, we'd rather it come to blows. We don't clear the air, and we never fight fair. She stabbed me and then broke my nose. A sight to be seen, trailer park king & queen. We hail what brings others disgust. We're not worthy of love, from heaven above. All we have left is the lust. I haven't been right, since that very first night. Ol' Doc shook his head and once again said, "Penicillin just might make it right."
I love you and I hate you the same,
I just can't put out this flame.
Dedicated to Donald Duck
You are greatly admired
By the following
The deplorables
Kellyanne Conway
She will con you all the way!
Adolph Hitler
Joseph Stalin
Mussolini
Sarah Palin
Pol Pot
Vladimir Putin
Saudi Royals
Palestinian boils
Tayyip Erdogan
Rudy Giuliani
Mike Pence
Chris Christie
Fran Drescher
Denis Rodman
Jesse Ventura
Astor Mark Burns the fraud and con artist
Ben Carson, the brain surgeon who lost his own brain
Now that’s totally insane
Bechir Assad
Kim Jong-un
Dennis Rodmam, Kim Dongs boyfriend
Gene Simmons, Kiss my ass
Zoltan Bathory, stop the drugs man
Loretta Lynn a hick with redneck whims
Bruce Willis is an actor and a racist with no car(e)
Jessica Simpson is blonde and maybe Trump hasnt grabbed her kitten
Sylvester Stallone will soon be all alone
Unless Donald is gay then a bromance is etched in stone
Illusions of self grandeur
Fantasies of men born to slander
Trump is a sleaze and con and a fraud
If you buy in, you’re a chump and a sod
Stop and think, stop the drink
You have choices and diverse options
Build bridges not walls
In the end, together we shall all stand tall
Maybe not, then too late, we shall atomically fall
A narcissist and psycho of that it’s for sure
He takes charitable deductions claiming he is pure
As he evicts the poor and mentally challenged
Who voted for him while being tossed out the door
Notes: With rights come responsibilities, although this is always a balance it seems we as a society are very concerned with out rights and much less with out responsibilities. I encourage anyone who truly cares to go and find a book called “Berlin Diary 1934-1941” and read it. First it’s a personal account of the times, and any book that covers humanity and day to day life for me carries a more humanistic weight to the story, however the main point is this. Hitler said and acted very much in the same way Donald Trump does today. That educated men stand behind Trump as well as many uneducated ones, is sad, they are more concerned with their own careers than doing the right thing. Of note, The Bushes seem to have long before it was popular, distance themselves from Trump.
‘Twas close to the day when Buba Claus,
His red nose and Bowie knife shining,
Would be off to fill the manly's hearths,
With bacon for their frying.
The ground was bare of snow or ice,
The sky was clear of reindeer.
But Buba Claus was loading his sleigh,
Real high, with good stout Yule beer?
Buba Claus was out in force,
His NRA cronies in tow,
To fill naughty radicals stockings,
With tiny bits of coal.
Cigars dangled from their lips,
A spittoon he placed by their feet,
And, before the sleigh rose off the ground;
They tossed in another side of beef.
Each carnivore, they laughingly swore;
Would have their fill this year,
And Bambi blanched as He flew by,
While Teddy Bears ran in fear!
Over New Canaan His courses flew,
Past the homes of vegetarians;
And down their chimneys they did toss;
The views of Libertarians!
And when the last haunch was placed,
Upon the spits of the mighty,
His spat his cud of gnarly gum,
Into the spittoon real tidy!
Then he flew off with a Ho, Ho, Ho,
And, not the ones for plowing
Cause Buba Claus had his own ideas
Of all Santa’s sissy endowings!