Long Saggy Poems
Long Saggy Poems. Below are the most popular long Saggy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Saggy poems by poem length and keyword.
Not for nothing am I something.
My alter-ego absent-mindedly swats a fly
from the tip of its nose.
The hard stool I am sat upon squirms,
if it had one more leg it might have left the room.
Take you for instance, your unfounded faith
in reality,
it's always changing,
your life is a changing room,
your clothes never fit, and your choice of hats
attracts the attention of interdimensional aliens,
who, as we all know,
are always looking to nest somewhere.
I think the chair needs to take a dump, it's straining
under my weight, and my alternative persona
is now sneezing uncontrollably.
I bolt for the door, chasing after my soul,
which suddenly has decided to take a vacation
far away from my
hard to explain, presence.
"Reality shall not be infringed". I yell.
A saggy skin is turning gray -
fingers, long and thin,
hang below my ankles in disarray.
I should like to try more time-travel
but shockingly,
I think this is the end of the line.
i got a ghostly
mostly moist handful of you
i got a mind
that's top heavy with you
it spills over with you
leaks you
I pant like a Parisian poodle for you
my baggy saggy heart
is packed to the hilt with you
my soggy boggy parts
pine for you
you told me to go to hell
and i went for a while
but came back
with a picture of you
tattooed all over my eyes
and
there were hot flames
under my hots
for you
also my burning boots
and socks
this day i dedicate
to my loss of control
my needy desperateness
my unrestraint
my ill-advised
madcap
rash and heedless
love
i celebrate you
and the fact
that you don't give a damn for me
maybe you will come around
change your low opinion of me
shoot the breeze with me
so for now dearest
please put down that shotgun
Your ass is slightly enlarged
Your hips are somewhat wide
You have wrinkles all over your thighs
You eyes they droop
Crows feet shoot me dead
With your dreary eye stare
The world sees ugly, over due and despair
Your chest is a scar
Red and ripe, disfigured and bare
Your time is up
Old maiden of the past
Your saggy story makes you a sad lass
However not all is as it seems
Those passerby’s who seek no depth
They know not the secrets of innocent youth
They drink not from the water of the wise well
I see you, so clear I cry
Your smile, your laughter and you wonder why?
I have fallen for you, faults and all
For me it’s your beauty that stands so tall
You are a painting on a museum wall
Desired, your smile for sure does enthrall
Your voice sings to the heavens above
Your touch upon my heart melts my cold dark wounds
The lines I see upon your face
Each a sign of wisdom and grace
May I kiss that scar upon your chest?
May I confess you that scare is the door to your desires
A place I dreamed to live from the start
Let me dance, let me sing
You are my beauty, so let me in
Love letters flow, like grapes to wine
Silently we sway to and fro, passing time
In my veins you flow, you can not run away
Needless dances of insecure thoughts
If only, if only I could have this last Serenade
A reflection of a woman in the mirror I do see.
A face graced with wrinkles stares right back at me.
Her appearance looks tired and worn with time.
I survey her face as her eyes meet mine.
Her hair is white and her skin is saggy.
Her jawline and neck appear drooping and baggy.
Who is this this lady in the mirror that I see.
Is this old lady supposed to be me ?
I feel no connection to this person at all.
She seems so frail, she looks so small.
My body is able and my mind is clear.
I am learning new things and growing each year.
I can jog round the park, I can dance till I drop.
I can sprint up a hill till I reach the top.
I can go on a trip and spend all day walking.
I can stay up all night with my friends, just talking.
I can work a full shift then come home and clean my house.
Then I'll cook dinner for me and my spouse.
I take care of my family, they don't take care of me.
I am agile I am healthy, I am still young inside you see.
In my mind I imagine myself to be 20 or so.
The reflection in the mirror is a woman I don't know.
The image portrays an illusion, it does not depict me.
Inside is a girl who is adventurous, full of life, vibrant and free
Get out of my way!
I’m in my car and I’ve got to be first all the way.
I’ve got to prove something about myself.
Number one me all the time, has to be me, no one else.
Get out of my way!
It’s says 37.5 hours on my contract but I’ll give them an extra ten all the way.
I’ve got to prove something to the man.
Laugh at unfunny jokes and talk football, no problem.
Get out of my way!
Be the man in the team! In the clique, must be neat to be me.
Miss my kids dance competition for bevvies with the office lads.
Flirt with young women while she’s at home cooking my tea.
I wear the trousers in my house, yeah, that’s right, that’s me!
Get out of my way!
Calm down old timer. New blood’s here and here to stay.
See how they all laugh at his jokes now.
Wow, I had hair like that, I did… wow.
All the office girls flirt with the young guy with his taught, unblemished skin. Square jaw, bright eyes, full smile, great hair, youth flair, damn that enigmatic thing!
I’m invisible to their smiles with my fading hair, hopeful glare and saggy skin!
Can I get past please?
I gave this place my everything.
I sacrificed time with my wife and my kids.
I was cool but now I’m defrosted it seems.
Remember when we did that guys, in that pub, thar was me?
Yeah but that’s not hip now old timer, just your sad history!
Get out of my way.
You promised to do the lawn today. I’ll fix that gate you did say!
The grandkids are coming tonight for the next three days.
But, I told the lads I’d meet them for a few bevvies after work later today.
You don’t work any more, just make sure you fix the gate, do the lawn and get your grandkids some pop and ice cream later today and for goodness sake please just get out of my way.
My back is aching but I can lift this. There is only one more giant box.
My muscles are tense, my neck is screaming.
My body groans, wanting to give up.
Why don’t we disappear and let someone else do this?
Voice of stupidity whispers.
It is time for a sane person’s nap,
but I am determined to punish my muscles.
Angry at them for getting saggy, baggy, noncompliant,
but most of all for not being young.
In a horrible mood now, I run around shrieking at others,
riling up the troops.
Baring my teeth, showing them the remnants of my emotional lobotomy.
Angry at everyone else for what I have done to myself.
Angry at everyone else for my negative self-talk.
Everything hurts now. Every single muscle, joint, and hair follicle.
I have bruised and bashed myself, but most of all, I am …..
Angry at the world for allowing me to get old.
I really miss your muffin-top
when you are far away
Your saddle-bags I long to touch
so come on home to play
My pigeon toes are not the same
without your crows feet near
My choppers miss your cooking too
it “taint” the same my dear
Is my beer belly on your mind
love handles do you miss
and how about my double chin
can you live with out this
So bring on back your thunder thighs
your saggy bottom too
Your fat beau-legged Valentine
now sorely misses you
Old granny had a funny wish,
To go back to her teens;
She had always been yearning
To travel back to her youth;
For nobody admires her figure now,
And says to her 'you are pretty';
Whenever she sees young charming girls,
She could not help but envy them and think:
'If only I could get back,
Atleast for one day to my eighteen.. '.
Then this craving started to occupy,
All the corners of her brain;
Until one fine day, at night,
It all popped up as a dream;
As her eyes succumbed to slumber gracefully,
She believed she saw something she disbelieved:
She was standing in front of a mirror and
In it, old granny saw her own young teen!
Wrinkled hands here, smooth hands there;
Saggy skin here, appeared to be taut skin there;
Weary face here, fresh face there;
Imperfections here, seemed perfect there.
Granny's happiness knew no bounds,
That she jumped and danced in joy in dream,
And thanked God for answering her prayers!
As she relished for some time,
In this illusory delightful bliss,
She woke up with a start from the sleep,
Only to see her own self
Lying in the bed: old and weak...
Dated: 11/19/2020
Submitted for: Juxtaposition Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Second Place
He oozed charm, this aging lothario.
Gallantry was his middle name.
Yet, he lived in the past
in the glory days of football wins
and cheerleaders…
denying his saggy abdomen
blind eye, and fungus crusted feet…
Gallantry was his middle name
and he wheedled his way into the affections
of many lost and lonely woman.
When the only women
of true importance in his life
were his daughters…
He lived in the past
slept with his dog, and swam in Speedos
bald pate shining in the sun.
Once, long ago he was married to a cheerleader.
She’s stopped cheering, as his life filled
with their daughter and she was no longer his girl.
Caught between life, death,
and the deep blue sea, he swam.
Arriving at the home of each new prospective conquest
with the requisite flowers and small talk.
The glory days of football still danced
before his single good eye upon the giant bar screen,
where he served mimosa’s and other drinks with a wink.
He smiled with a well-worn charm, and didn’t touch the stuff.
Still, he tried. But, most times,
he felt more at home
with his daughters…
There once was a hippopotamus
that turned into three,
A Hip, a Pop and a Thomas.
Hip was cool he stayed in school,
Pop did not stop he was a fool,
Thomas was a donkey, a maul.
Hip worked hard always first to start,
Pop lived his life out of a shopping cart,
Thomas trafficed drugs in the dark.
Hip finished school after working hard,
Pop just sat around all day in bars,
Thomas got caught with cocaine up his a....
Hip got married and lived life happy,
Pop just drank and got real saggy,
Thomas made sure there were drugs in the baggy.
Hip grew old and his kids had kids,
Pop choked one night on his own fluid,
Thomas went to prison for being stupid.
So kids listen to Lyric Man when he says, "it pays to be hip".