Long Rub Poems
Long Rub Poems. Below are the most popular long Rub by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rub poems by poem length and keyword.
JEANIEMAC
Rub a dub dub two in a tub.
Where did the soap go?
He lay back flat
Right on his back.
While she fiddled about below.
TIM SMITH
Rub a dub dub I fell in the tub.
I swear to you Lassie it's not always a stub.
The water is cold.
I'm getting old.
Come a little closer and give it a rub.
LIM'RIK FLATS
Jeanie and Timmy alone in the tub.
Sounds like a poem which might need a scrub.
I cannot say s*x.
Not sure about pecs.
H**l, the censors might just overdub.
ARTHUR VASO
Rub a dub dub, there's three in a tub.
Sure hope one doesn't give it a rub.
The lassie is fine.
She has two to shine.
EVE ROPER
Rub a dub dub four in a swingers tub.
Girls raised their glass, boys the stilettos subs.
Full of champagne and olives.
Pond koi had other motives.
Oh la la,, that's not the knob it's my club!
we are human
on this earth, we are civilized animals
first world, second world, third world
we all are now on the queue of civilization
first and second world war
now in our remembrance;
grievance in our sensitive trance
yet we are on the forward march of universal humanism
we can speak, write and paint
a flock of birds, flying pigeons;
not the war in advance
we can speak, write and paint
the flowers garden, serve the fragrance of variety flowers
we can speak, write and paint
the sympathetic charitable works of Mother Teresa
we can speak, write and paint
the long walk to freedom of Nelson Mandela,
(freedom of physical along with revengeful mind)
we can speak, write and paint
the non-violent movement of Mahatma Gandhi
not the scene of war, blood in advance
we can speak, write and paint
the seven great rivers, oceans, desert Sahara, waterfall
We can speak, write and paint
the blue sky with the crystal rainbow
We can speak, write and listen
the musical rhythm of the rain
we can meditate on the music of love
we can paint in our every diction, speech
the red sun rising, the full bright moon
not the red blood of the reborn war
we can speak, write and paint
the colors of divine love,
the living unity of poor and rich,
the living unity of man and woman
without discrimination;
not the blue scheme of war in advance
let us
we rub out the words, sentences, paintings
of war in advance;
let us
each for other
we make lifeboat to live
in any tidal dance
-October 16,2019 Chattogram
Mortal man's stuck in the can
He can't get off the pot
He goes and goes, it never ends
Could be some kind of plot
A half-hour later he's still going
Poor posterior all rubbed raw
And now he's out of toilet paper
It must be Murphy's Law
He calls 911, says "Help me, please"
What's your emergency, bud
I'm held hostage; I've been seized
by an endless stream of crud
An ambulance, sir, will be there soon
But, operator, that's not the issue
I need at least a month's supply
of Charmin's softest tissue
Operator laughed so hard that she fell over
Wished him good luck, then she cried
If you don't get off that darn pot soon
Your end'll end up rawhide
Well, miracle of miracles, bless the Lord
The crud came to a screeching halt
And when our hero got off the pot
He smiled to himself, as he realized
~ The whole thing's this poet's fault
I see North Africa
Through a little girl’s eyes
Continental ignorance
Stagnant in their reflection
Oppression
Like sinuous flames
In the heat of their arid deserts
I see America
With its once prolific economy
One man
It tumbled all
Two elections – “it’s all your fault!”
Teetering precariously, waiting…
For Obama to hold it together
I see Europe
Where art thou now?
Hiding like politicians – fools they are
Come out, come out
Where ever you are
Bush needs his poodles
Ha Ha Ha!
You’re all in this together
Manipulating each other
Pretending to need the UN more than the other
Who’s ruling the UN Bush or its general secretary
Britain cannot criticize, they ruled the League of Nations
You’ll never step up to the plate
And be manly enough
To take the blame for the world’s disastrous fate.
When I say that I'm going to kill you, there is no doubt.
You've angered me once too often and I'm going to rub you out.
Three years ago, you stole my valuable coin collection.
You should get a bodyguard because you need protection.
You lied to Social Services when you told them that I'm an unfit dad.
I almost lost my children and you have damn nearly driven me mad.
But the last straw came when you impregnated my teenage daughter.
You've crossed the line and you are a man who I intend to slaughter.
I could have you arrested for statutory rape but I want you to be dead.
You just fell to the floor because I used my shotgun to blow off your head.
(This is a fictional poem. In real life, violence never solves anything. Please never take the law into your own hands.)
A place to raise your glass
or raise the hair right off your head
Where liquor flows and tongues will wag,
be warned of what is said
A place where open secrets
bare desires to fulfill
And nearly every fantasy
to satisfy at will
Anonymous in nature
are the patrons you will find
And you can be yourself and
take a trip of any kind
Wedding vows and high hat bows
are left outside the door
And once you dare to come inside
you’ll find you’re wanting more
How to find this wanton place
when you’re up to no good
Just turn the corner, take the path
and penetrate the wood
This place is so revealing
you cannot miss its sign
A hidden space, clandestine love
its name is by design
Who might you meet, a husband
or a wife inside this pub
Just take a stroll inside your head
for therein lies “The Rub”
I never had much of an inflated ego
Vanity left me at birth
Our self esteem should travel wherever we go
But I always doubted my worth
The awful commotion of plane hitting ocean
Woke every shark in the sea
And I’m left alone with a gut wrenching notion
Why did they overlook me
The crash had killed plenty, the sharks had took twenty
So why did our lord make me last
I doubted a sentry was there to defend me
The next shark did not just swim past
‘My lord,’ I called out, ’what was I about?
Deliver some meaning to me’
That shark chewed me up, and then he said ‘YUK!’
And spat me back into the sea
He coughed and he spluttered and then the shark muttered
’I thought that I’d tasted it all...
I’ve eaten your species, but you taste like faeces’
And that made me feel really small.
Never rub salt into the gash,
Making not bad things even worse;
Say sweet inspiring lines instead
That are found in the poet's verse.
Never let difficult status
Turn into harder condition;
Nor allow the painful feeling
To become damaged emotion.
Do not ever accentuate
The negative circumstances;
Neither aggravate the problem,
Nor intensify the cases.
Let not the upset mind and heart
Get more frustrated and angry;
Allow them not to bring the love
To oblivion of harmony.
Never add harm to injury,
Never hurt the wound, cut, or slash;
Never neglect the shattered soul,
Never rub salt into the gash.