Long Shebang Poems
Long Shebang Poems. Below are the most popular long Shebang by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shebang poems by poem length and keyword.
“Mice” is nice but might be called “mouses”
if a couple is next to a screen
and there is no screaming from me
except in excitement at my selection.
That Razer Viper V2 Pro
so light and quick under my palm.
Point, click and scroll with complete control.
Sexy as that is, mine’s plain old gray,
like an old man in a squeaky wheelchair.
And my guy started the whole shebang
when he started the mouse wheel turning
in my mind. He said he was taking mice
to India. I chortled at the thought of two
as well as the word choice. How cool
that I can pound on a tablet screen
to ask “the boss” the proper way.
Improperly, the internet replies
that both are right. How can both be right?
I just know my guy is wrong because
the opposite means his wife is…
I can’t even say it. Mice or mouses,
marriage lice or louses. Scroll wheel
turning, turning, turning and “Proud Mary
burnin’” daylight, agreeing to disagree.
*lyrics by John Cameron Fogerty
If I were rich I would live in Orlando,
Where the sun grooms the watered land,
Where busyness is quelled by knowing that,
You can always live in another city grand.
My Disney poems would be accepted,
As part of the scene, the whole shebang,
As I would hope to complement Mr Disney,
With poetry’s feeling shade on the hang.
I would have the carers that I wanted to,
Tall, handsome, smiley and relaxed at chat,
And maybe have two showers every day,
With only a t-shirts to choose and rat.
I might go swimming in the outside pool,
With a carer, not with a staunch physio,
And I could barbecue mushrooms forever,
With have a large car having Orlando radio.
I may, in the end, write a non-fiction book,
About the Disney films and their morality,
About what’s behind them and the values,
About their promotion of a healthy longevity.
Sea World, Universal Studios and NASA,
Are just on hand by your door step,
And as a hub and centre for internationals,
The diverse culture means no cooking prep.
26/10/2015
Shebang Squirrel was the fastest most frolicking squirrel in the yard.
She could outrun pitchforks, farmers, and toddler in leotard.
Her reputation soon came to the attention of the Squirrel Queen.
Who watched her gathering skills, and saw she was never mean.
Shebang Squirrel shared her pile with the entire squirrel town.
She was generous, and polite, and enjoyed hanging upside down.
She could take a bird feeder apart with one paw behind her back.
For every squirrel quality, Shebang surely had a terrific knack.
One day Shebang was invited to the palace high up in the oak.
At first she thought this must be a weird, cousin Lim kind of joke.
Lim assured her he had no ideas at all what this summons could mean.
She fluffed her tail, and picked up a walnut to take to Squirrel Queen.
You share your stash with the commoners, the Queen said right away.
Scared Shebang's squeaks froze up. She did not know what to say.
You are here, Shebang, for you are going to be my successor.
Queen snapped her fingers and said to her staff, “Please re-dress her!”
I am a common squirrel, Shebang said to the queen in her humble way.
Of course Queen had been looking for such a squirrel every single day.
She agreed to try it, and the whole Squirrel Village rejoiced and sang.
They all loved her new role, their darling generous Queen Shebang.
Pool's Prince Charming
by Michael R. Burch
this is my tribute to the legendary pool shark "Saint Louie" Louie Roberts
Louie, Louie, Prince of Pool,
making all the ladies drool ...
Take the “nuts”? I'd be a fool!
Louie, Louie, Prince of Pool.
Louie, Louie, pretty as Elvis,
owner of (ahem) a similar pelvis ...
Compared to you, the books will shelve us.
Louie, Louie, pretty as Elvis.
Louie, Louie, fearless gambler,
ladies' man and constant rambler,
but such a sweet, loquacious ambler!
Louie, Louie, fearless gambler.
Louie, Louie, angelic, chthonic,
pool's charming hero, but tragic, Byronic,
winning the Open drinking gin and tonic?
Louie, Louie, angelic, chthonic.
NOTE: If you like my tribute you are welcome to share it, but please credit me as the author, which you can do by copying the title and subheading. I used poetic license about what Louie Roberts was or wasn't drinking at the 1981 U. S. Open Nine-Ball Championship. Was Louie drinking hard liquor as he came charging back through the losers' bracket to win the whole shebang? Or was he just pretending to drink for gamesmanship or some other reason? I honestly don't know. As for the word “chthonic,” it’s pronounced “thonic” and means “subterranean” or “of the underworld.” And the pool world at its worst can be very dark indeed, as Louie’s tragic demise suggests. But everyone who knew Louie seemed to like him, if not love him dearly, and many sharks have spoken of Louie in glowing terms, as a bringer of light to that underworld.
the field is given a name
battles are about where they disappear
the ones that walk away
don't know where the hell they are
after the mayhem
peace continues destroying barns
birds peck at exploded eye sockets
take what they see to feather nests in hollow trees
insignia and belt buckles
are hunted to extinction
sold into usury
mists shuffle a daze of time
the rattling roll calls of magpies and jackdaws
echo the click-clacking of jawbones
executing orders and counter orders
the officers that stumbled forward or away
go quietly mad or marry well
later
shell stumped foot foragers tell their slogging tales
then find newly cracked rockers
to slip away on
between the hour before dawn and midday
the violence died away in smoke
muddle and disorder
no land was lost or won nothing ended or begun
only this smoldering
cannon blasted field surrendering its nowhere acres
eventually milk cows and goats are purchased
to he hell into butter
dead horses are brought back
as glue and sacks of fertilizer
the stubborn ghosts of mules bray
on the night before remembrance day
thus now in the kilter and unwinding of years
the unnamed are plowed in or out
framed in visitor centers
the long hauled about laid to primal grist
the fallen slain recalled again
to quicken vintage tractors
the bearded and beardless site-marked and told
by the grave tongued rangers
who speak for the listening gone
and the whole much pounded shebang
grid referenced
as the muzzled earth still heaves up
its lead riddled bones
service roads are built over tufts of d-n-a
spent shells and frayed lapels catalogued
filed away
then the blue and grey left to fight
their own way home
while another day breaks its promise
We’re gunna need another car,
The Datsun’s gone and died.
The thing was never up to par.
Why, it never even tried.
A brand new clutch not long ago,
Then the air conditioner carked it.
It seems to think we’re made of dough.
Need to forget where I parked it.
Electronics all misfiring,
It needs to visit a sparkie.
The whole shebang will need rewiring.
And you wonder why I’m narky?
It’s not as if it’s all been bad,
For it has been used quite rough,
And when it’s gone I won’t be sad.
I’ll have finally called its bluff.
See, it made me think it useful,
It showed just a little ‘chutzpah’,
But if I’m being truthful,
It’s now no more than a foot-spa.
Seals on doors not holding well,
In the foot-well there’s a puddle,
Which, when disturbed, emits a smell
Reminiscent of cat’s wuddle.
Rat a tat tat..from the off…doff my hat to that.. rare..great hair and flair pair…the cool cat and crazy cat..
Teasing twang…of the Pant and anti Pant thang..the genesis of a genius nemesis it brang..tomfoolery along with duelery schoolery.. pleasing tang of yin and yang..
Whole shebang rang of..sublime Pantomime..our hearts sang…pangs for the young gun in the gang to bare those fangs.. go bang..
His prime partner in crime…K L cool cat with the bat Rahul..skill.. old school rhyme..that first rate trait…so much time..plays it so late…the definition of chill pill..
Follicle oracle..bouffant penchant…..rock star locks…another dab..but never drab..not a spanker..devil may care to share.. smash and grab..like the fab Rishabh lab..
K L ..Indian banker and anchor..while our favourite clown wearing his crown and gown…even lying on the floor..running amok with stunning cunning..score with awe and round the clock shock..goes once more..downtown
Never understood why the red ball numbers encumbers.. as Rahul part of the seriously good with the wood brotherhood..
So why the hell…pray tell has K L..the silky sage..well..how can it be that he’s only
Got a Test average of 33..the same as his age…the game’s stats don’t lie…then why…
Not a hall of fame name..as won’t deny..I spy a wry sly superfly guy..
Add or subtract…can’t detract…a matter of fact.. the impact..
Run splatter..fielders scatter…can’t shatter the Pant..Rahul batter pact
Bestowing a glowing showing… us rapt at every act…let’s flatter the rule
Of old school KL cool Rahul and our favourite fool..
Dearly ranting gallivanting Panting madhatter..
Cos clearly opposites with the bat really do attract..
Got a plop in my fizz
And a tiger in my tank
Impossible is nothing
(That’s why Titanic sank)
Got milk? Just do it.
Wash your troubles down the drain
Tastes so good
Cats ask for it by name
Eat fresh. I’m lovin’ it.
It’s finger-lickin’ good
If you won’t eat it
We all know Mikey would
Once you pop you can’t stop
Make the most of now
“Eat Mor Chikin”
(Written by a rebel cow)
Every bubble’s passed its fizzical
Let’s get quizzical
Nothin’ says lovin’
Like something from the oven
Snap! Crackle! Pop!
They’re Gr-r-r-reat!
Just like a good neighbor
In good hands with Allstate
Look, Ma, no cavities!
Think outside the bun
Save money. Live better.
Consider IT done
Melts in your mouth
Not in your hands
(Life’s what happens
While you’re making other plans)
American by birth.
Rebel by choice.
Hello Moto
His masters voice
Maybe she’s born with it
Have it your way
A diamond is forever
Every kiss begins with Kay
You've come a long way baby
Be all that you can be
A Little dab'll do ya
With L.S./M.F.T.
Own a piece of the rock
Where do you want to go today?
We make money
The old-fashioned way…
When you care enough
To send the very best
Oh, what a feeling!
Come be our guest!
Live in your world.
Play in ours.
Get N or get out
For the love of cars
You can’t top the copper top
Easy as Dell
He keeps going and going…
Go further with Shell
When there is no tomorrow
Bo knows best
Think small. Make believe.
Makes quitting suck less
Stronger than dirt
How do you spell relief?
Success. It’s a mind game.
Defying all belief
Challenge everything
Share moments. Share life.
Because you’re worth it
Save a life. Love your wife.
the field is given a name
battles are about where they disappear
the ones that walk away
don't know where the hell they are
after the mayhem
peace continues destroying barns
birds peck at exploded eye sockets
insignia and belt buckles
are hunted to extinction
mists shuffle a daze of time
the rattling roll calls of magpies and jackdaws
echo the click-clacking of jawbones
executing orders and counter orders
the officers that stumbled forward or away
go quietly mad or marry well
shell stumped foot foragers tell their slogging tales
then find newly cracked rockers
to slip away on
between the hour before dawn and midday
the violence died away in smoke
muddle and disorder
no land was lost or won nothing ended or begun
only this smoldering
cannon blasted field surrendering its nowhere acres
eventually milk cows and goats are purchased
to he hell into butter
dead horses are brought back
as glue and sacks of fertilizer
the stubborn ghosts of mules bray on
the unnamed are plowed in or out
framed in visitor centers
the bearded and beardless site-marked and told
by the grave tongued rangers
who speak for the listening gone
and the whole much pounded shebang
grid referenced
as the muzzled earth still heaves up
its lead riddled bones
the blue and grey leave to fight
their own way home
while another day breaks its promise
I like faint fire I feel
fueling me with fervor
for far off places without you
I like sweet scent of spring I smell
when you fan the flames
ignited by your carefree hand
I like warmth seeping in
letting my blood course free
with unpredictable energy
I like refreshing air I breathe
just seeing freedom lay waiting me -
sole initiator of breezy times
I like option one and two
of the whole shebang of things
I am free to do, or not do
I like how instant choice to vent
is mine, though time after time
... I've crossed no line ...
I like solitary silence
taking me by the hand
Soothing aches you've unhand
I like Creator's time
so packed with magic
My sole therapeutic fix.
*