Long Skinny Poems

Long Skinny Poems. Below are the most popular long Skinny by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Skinny poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Little Man In the Boat

Ladies please take note 
this is a massage for
the little man in the boat.
To whom so much of myself 
I willingly devote. 
I hope you understand,
the way you melt in my mouth
and not in my hand.
I am forever 
your number one fan.
You spend more time 
than any dentist, 
looking down my throat.
And I have to admit,
I've always admired your boat.

From the first time
you taught me what to do.
We had fun like teenagers
skinny dipping in your canoe.
As I became the engine
to your motorboat,
you laugh whenever a hair 
gets caught in my throat.
You say I'm doing it right
when I can't breath.
I thought it was funny 
the first time I sneezed.
Form: Rhyme


There and Back Again

I’m my mind I could recall
All those friends faces
Almost hear voices as 
I sat in old loved places
A callow youth when I arrived,
A misfit out of time and place,
Trying but not quite succeeding 
To put  on a confident face.

A uniform that barely fitted
My long skinny frame 
Supposedly a trained soldier
But really only in name.
I couldn’t ever imagine, though
In theory I had acquired the skill,
To threaten another human being
And, If necessary  shoot and kill.

But there was a whole new world
Just beyond the camp gate
There  to be searched and learned
And I could hardly wait.
And so I found the village
At the end of a wooded road 
And so began for me 
A significant episode.

It seemed to welcome me
With not quite open arms
But, like my own home village
A place full of rustic charms.
For almost three years that village
Helped me mature  and grow
Taught me so many things 
A man really needed know.

I discovered sex and love
I discovered how to care
Had a life within my life
In the hours I spent there.
Posted so suddenly i didn’t 
Have chance to say goodbye
But I kept it neatly filed away
Nestled there in my mind’s eye

Nearly fifty years later
I found my way back
Wandered there down 
A well remembered track
At a time of loss and grief
A time of hopeless despair
And, almost unchanged
My village was still there.

I wandered old paths sad that
My friends had all long gone
But in that quiet peaceful place
I found the strength to move on.
Conventional wisdom advises 
We shouldn’t revisit the past
But I’m glad i made that visit
Though I think it will be my last
Form: Rhyme

No Objection To Cold Weather, But

No objection to cold weather, but...

ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb
to escape unrelenting forbidding gloom.
perhaps cuz mine generation 
nsync with baby boom.

No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless (three plus) scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
yours truly haint got any 
handy dandy blues clue,

nonetheless said wish -
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.

Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting

Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,

thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this

before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...

Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy

lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse

learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,

one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member She Cared

Her hands were forever moving, occupied with work
Leaving trails of memories across my heart
Whispering hope to my spirit
Silencing my worries and fears
Lighting the way for serenity
To color my thoughts in hues of lavender lace
Tracing out edges of truths
Surrounding me with inspiration
And beauty that comes from knowing
God is truly good!

Her housedress was always some flowery cotton
Drifting happily around her skinny knees
Raising questions about what would be for supper
Or breakfast or dessert?
Biscuits made from flour and lard, buttermilk
Dough so light and flavorful
It fills the mouth with sweetness
Of knowing her hands created them
The crusts flaky and filled with fresh joy
Love inspired by her heart

Her hair was always colored – until she was eighty
Then she went gray – snowy white, not silver
Leaving the dye behind her, in the salon
Where many would have told her, years ago
She could have been done with hair dye
But she was still vain in her heart
Despite the hard work that had faded her
Left her once smooth skin with creasing so deep
It left lines, even in her velvety touch
When she embraced me, which she didn’t do
Unless there was some harrowing experience to spark it

The embrace that failed to come
Because she was more than affection
She was a touch from God’s graceful breath
Sighing across my naked thoughts – warm
Because she knew the meaning of hope
The way to find inspiration and dreams
Through faith in His love for us
Love that lit her soul, glistened
In her light cerulean eyes
Always busy, she left me feeling cared for

My Denim Dilemma

Thirty years ago
I was a boy of fifteen
Shoulder length hair growth
Biker boots and skinny jeans

My Father's best birthday gift
A stunning Levi denim jacket 
Everyday since I've worn it
It's gained a few patches

Recently divorced I met a lady
Sweet as a honey pot
Who loves and respects me
But we've hit a bad spot

Jealousy of my denim relations
Is causing a massive strain
Her demands were outrageous
She wants to burn my denim 

This denim is my best mate
With lots of fond memories
Even wore it on our first date
Her reply made me worry

It was your charm that I liked
And your good looks obviously
Your clothes are a terrible sight 
To be so insulting is a liberty

So now I'm in limbo
Lose my precious denim
Or the girl has to go
What a terrible dilemma I'm in
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member I Can

I promise I can

I can make you rich, give me fifty quid
I can help you sleep, just turn on my vid
I can change your sex life, NOT LIKE THAT!
I can make your teeth straight and delouse your cat
I can help you grow as a person, and a boss
I can make so carefree, you’ll never give a toss
I can make you happy, and live a contented life
I can help (you know what) to satisfy your wife
I can explain the power of attraction, and use the universe
I can help you live forever, you’ll never need a hearse
I can help you slim, you’ll be skinny as a rake
I can help your lips look bigger, but you’ll never look fake
I can give a business plan, where your company will explode
I can take you to the next level, help you cross that road
I can build your website, with a lovely landing page
I can rip you off, by promising your will never age
© Dave Cox  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Weighty Worries

Those endless talks of 
giving the fat a trim
Beauty is now the 
monopoly of the slim! 

Sinuous and slender
The hourglass figure
The thinner, the better.

Dieting and slimming 
down tricks
ofcourse selling like hot 
cakes

Tis a pity, I can't eat to 
my heart's content and 
desire
for rounded figures they 
no longer admire.

But as long as 
scrumptious samosas
keep frying in pans
and delicious pizzas
keep baking in 'em' ovens
it'd be hard to keep the 
damned calorie count
or to live in fear of the 
expanding waistline 
mount.

Ah those mouth-
watering deep-fried 
kebabs
are entirely to blame for 
my yo-yo dieting! 

Gosh to cut down on 
cheese and butter slab
is one tough way to get 
rid of body flab.

This war against weight
is weighing upon my 
mind
instead of being simply 
plump and straight
I gotta maintain teen 
contours and curves I 
find! 

You do know this is a 
war you've got to be 
winning.
It's those extra pounds 
and not the war you 
have to be losing.
Or the other skinny 
lasses will be staring 
grinning.

Ah but all young ladies 
must as well beware
dragoness Anorexia's 
engulfing lair
or how her crony Bulimia 
too can ensnare! 

So pals better be about ill-
health precautious
rather than being overly 
so weight-conscious. :)
Form: Rhyme

Morning Is Broken

Morning is broken.


Electric blue; suffocate my words.
Drowning like a fish, gasping for air.
The hole I will lie in is golden on the outside.
I have no life, I have no time; I have no chance to care.


Underwater bubbles never float into the sky.
Pressure cooker, need a cuddle, beauty begins inside the eyes.


Rip my head apart, I have a cavity;
Unclear to see all three degrees.
I only eat rice from a chessboard.
Skinny love; I overfeed.
You are just a dream to me, I imagine.
Methinks no drink from a grail can remedy.
I am ok without; 
I am ok within.
I am ok with you.
I think.


Lizard tongues whisper fables to all with ears.
I have no gun, I have no mouth; I have no choice to speak or to hear.
I suffer in silence as I lie amongst the Guns ‘n’ Roses;
Plant my corpse alongside the mourning plants.
I am done picking flowers and my arm is already full of POEsies.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
© Aa Harvey  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member Exotic

Deep inside tangled vines i hide
seeking peace and quiet from all
nestled in the country side i lie
snoozing on my hammock in
the dewy morning air
my cabin might not be much
a bath, a bed to lay my head
a living room to entertain myself
a kitchen to fill my belly so
a spacious backyard
looking over a crystal lake
a woods to hide me from everyone
it is the exotic get-a-way
where skinny dipping is no problem an
walking naked through the trees is safe
where i can swing from hammock all day long 
sipping mixed drinks till i am drunk an
stagger to my room only
to repeat my excurtion day after day

Premium Member I Am An Explorer

I find myself alone in the country
For the first time ever, I can hear my soul
My thoughts are not prancing or on fire
I am alive to do nothing
Unhurried and joyful

Early morning nudges me to take a walk
I smile at the weathered barn with three eyes
surrounded by a rustic coral and skinny barbed wire
the silence is rejuvenating
I am hopeful and excited

Soundlessness of this solitude surrounds my soul
I adore the overgrown grasses, spying dandelions at my feet
are those violets?
Yes as well as tiny bits of mushrooms and wild strawberries.
I am an explorer, alone in the country
For the first time ever happy with my soul.

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