Long Sported Poems
Long Sported Poems. Below are the most popular long Sported by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sported poems by poem length and keyword.
The bridge above her nose was pierced,
Her nostrils were, as well,
With several silver bars laced through,
As far as I could tell.
Her upper ears both sported studs
And wrapped around her neck
A studded leather choker served,
With others, to bedeck.
I couldn’t count how many more
(I didn’t want to stare)
And on her wrists, assorted bracelets
Brightly dangled there.
She was a very friendly soul
And so I had to ask
If she slept with all her piercings;
She did not take me to task.
She simply laughed and said she did,
Not what I thought I’d hear,
Since I take my earrings out each night,
Just one in either ear.
Mother was a genius when it came to recyclin' flowery flour sacks,
Durin' The Great Depression to provide duds for her family's backs!
With her trusty pedal Singer Sewin' Machine she turned out a horde,
Of decent apparel that we could ill afford from Montgomery-Ward!
In gym class I could usually find a locker behind which to cower,
So as not to reveal my drawers toutin' 'Gold Medal Self-Risin' Flour'!
The shirts she made sported gaudy prints of petunias and roses,
And various critters such as unicorns and monkeys in silly poses!
Sacks made fancy bloomers for sister that advertised 'Baker's Delight',
Plus tawdry dresses, blouses and skirts, but with her that was alright!
'Pillsbury's All-Purpose Flour' graced the back of shirts worn by Dad!
Others were more subdued when Mom found a sack of simple plaid!
I reckon city folks thought we country folk looked kinda weird and funny,
Paradin' around in altered flour sacks, but there wasn't very much money,
Left for fancy things after Pa bought shoes and put grub on the table!
But, with a wink and spare change, he treated us to ice cream when able!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Entry for Judy Konos' "Whatever Happened To Flour Sacks" Contest
I was sittin' on the porch today reminiscin' about this and that,
And my hometown came to mind where I grew up as a feckless brat!
Life was lived at a slower pace it seemed, back in that place and time.
We didn't smoke grass but stealin' watermelons was a common crime!
The senior prom was held in the school gym and didn't cost a bunch.
There was no McDonalds so you had to eat at Marty's Diner for lunch.
Imagine! You danced cheek-to-cheek to a romantic Miller refrain,
And there were no computers - you actually had to use your brain!
The girls in your class were OK, but you preferred gals in that other town!
You raced about town in your Ford and with the cops became quite renown!
Guys kept shotguns in their jalopies to go rabbit huntin' right after school.
You took pleasure in datin' your pal's ex-girl friend, thinkin' you were so cool!
You could usually find who you were lookin' for at the dairy bar or pool hall.
You pushed a reel-type lawn mower when you'd rather be playin' basketball.
Everyone gathered downtown on Saturday nights for a movie or just to hang out.
Boys started drivin' their dad's John Deere tractor at age ten or thereabout.
If you walked somewhere, people would stop to see if you needed a ride.
Should you be the last kid chosen for a game, that really hurt your pride!
Boys wore 'butch' haircuts and girls sported ponytails and saddle shoes.
When I recall those carefree days I get a touch of the melancholy blues!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The steely-eyed hombre stepped down from the stage that sultry afternoon.
He looked about with disdain, then swaggered to the Cripple Creek Saloon.
His hat lay low upon his brow and swung low was a pair of 44's on his hips.
He sported fancy duds and greeted a few loafers with a snarl on his lips.
Jeremiah Slade was the feller's name and gamblin' was his trade.
He sauntered up to the bar and stunned the bartend by orderin' a lemonade!
Then he strolled to a table in the back of the room with his back to the wall.
(This was his usual modus operandi just in case there was a free-fer-all!)
He announced, "Boy's, my name's Jeremiah Slade and gamblin' is my game;
Join me and ante up fer a round of poker, but, boys let's keep it tame!"
Three chumps took the bait and scurried fer Jeremiah's table to grab a chair!
He let the dudes win a game or so to assure that things were fair and square.
Now, unknown to the three suckers, Slade was a professional gyp!
The scoundrel was invited to leave umpteen towns west of the Mississip!
Slade had a few tricks up a sleeve that he soon entered into play.
Mysteriously, numerous aces appeared in his draws and were on display!
The trio got wise to his game and jammed three rods in Jeremiah's face!
He was quickly consigned to eternity fer playin' too many an ace!
Jeremiah was conveyed out of town, that no-good cunnin' knave,
And now lies at the foot of Mount Pisgah a-molderin' in his grave!
Today as I got up and climbed down the stairs
Suddenly I tripped, and went upside down
Received minor bruises, some splits in my hair
But what’s more important, I looked like a clown
Suddenly I noticed all the world gone crazy
Men looked like kids and kids went busy
In patting their own backs, and sneering at others
While adults fought over candies and snatching their brothers’
Young ladies basked in neck-ties and collars
They had their curves flattened using road rollers
Meanwhile their boyfriends sported latest bikini range
Why belles didn't leer at them, they found it strange
Traders rushed madly to pay up their taxes
Celebs attending funerals, their tears ran excess
I rightfully felt aghast, because all a nightmare
I put off my specs, and that gave me a scare
My specs were downwards up, looked incisively hopeless
To set its focus rightly in this urban wilderness.
When Philadelphians wanted to see a basketball game,
the “Warriors” was their first team’s name.
They had several players achieving great fame.
Familiar names included Joe Fulks and Paul Arizin.
They were joined by Tom Gola and Wilt Chamberlain.
However, it was in the year of 1962
when the NBA franchise packed up and bid adieu.
The only professional team Philadelphia would know,
moved their operations to San Francisco.
Therefore, Philadelphia was without a team for a year.
However, the Syracuse Nationals relocated here.
In the City of Brotherly Love, they took a new name.
The “Seventy-Sixers” were now playing the game.
They traded to bring Wilt Chamberlain back.
The offense sported a formidable attack.
Among the big names that were playing here,
were Chet Walker, Luke Jackson, and Hal Greer.
The city’s basketball fans were in seventh heaven
when their team became world champions in 1967.
The silence that envelops,
Only when peaceful,
When my heart is full enough to sleep,
Filled with the newest memories.
They are sported like new technology,
Not so limited, but loved and invested.
And I do not even dwell if I am loved because it is known.
I love them, and the word,
Love,
Is not used flippantly like those around me.
It is purer than life itself,
And it travels across my body,
Intravenous in the way is swallows me whole.
And there is no word known better to describe my obsession.
Who cares if I may see them everyday,
That their names will always remain on my mind,
All I care is that my heart still beats enough
To see them everyday.
Their laughs, hugs, nervous touches, smiles,
Gazes and dependency, it drives my heart as if
It were laced with nicotine.
Because they make me smile,
Among little in the world that is happy,
They are like pre-made lunches and fresh carnations,
Like sunflowers and washed clothes,
So clean and genuine.
Things I would have taken for granted,
I now cherish every second, because I love them.
The rush of wind c h u r n s sported leaves of fall,
charming the r u s t i c path so warm and cold.
A u t u m n a l gal whispers in brief e n t h r a l.
S e v e r i t y of chill is c r o u c h i n g bold.
Pumpkins don’t scream when scooped of seeds and fruit.
The hush of f l i t t i n g eyes, f l a m i n g with oils,
f r i g h t e n the dark, the b l a c k e s t cats recruit,
And bring to mind c h a r c o a l-c a l d r o n that boils.
I worry n o t of l a t e s h a d o w s of a g e.
Skulk-stares s h u d d e r when sight is lit with peace.
I iron n o t my w r i n k l y smile, my s a g e.
In Autumn’s a c e, serpent’s r e c o i l and c e a s e.
Ruby, amber, and b i t t e r s w e e t, the s h a p e s.
The gentlest c r u n c h and flung football e s c a p e s.
ENTER NEOLINA
What a fabulous fish
What an awesome dish,
Neolina is her name,
And Flirting is her game.
She dives, shimmers,
Swims and flows,
She always smiles,
Shines and glows,
And then she dips
To show her other side,
But Neolina is perfect,
And has nothing to hide!
Her colours are surreal,
And make the fish all feel,
That she is from
Another world untold,
Where funky fish unfurl,
And octopuses multiply,
And continually unfold.
She’s sexy and she knows so,
She’s after Nemo as her beau,
She’s been closely watching,
And knows the qualities he has,
But of course,
She knows, she’s the one
With pizzazz!
We all know the story
About Nemo Marlin and Dory,
And how Nemo escaped danger,
From the Dentist stranger.
Neolina hears of Nemo’s escape,
And lets out a sigh,
And excitedly contemplates
What could be nigh!
However,
The crux of my tale,
Is about Marlin
Brewing a plot
To match Neolina, the surreal
Sassy fish,
With Nemo who is hot,
And his fantasies about
An incredible wedding,
On the reef where the sun,
Has a magnificent setting.
Every fish would be invited to come,
And imagine the fashions,
That would be
Sported by some!
Marlin practiced what he
Wanted to say,
To Nemo,
For many a day
And hopes it will
Be accepted by them.
He would make plans for
Their honeymoon,
And he thought of doing
This very soon,
But was afraid of been
Too rash,
He didn’t want to appear brash,
He might frighten or chase
Neolina away,
And Nemo might follow,
And choose not to stay.
But, Marlin was almost sure
If there was to be bet,
Each of them would admit
How they felt,
And both would burst out and say,
May we get married today!
Nemo our small Casanova,
Had spied Neolina once or twice,
And thought she was
Fabuliciously nice.
Marlin hoped they
Would be ecstatic to say I do,
Get married and have a child
Or a few!
Now we will just have to wait,
To see what will be their fate,
Will Marlins fantasies,
Come true
For these awesome two?
This aggrieved papa
of two progeny, (female)
holed himself in a
rigorously fortified fail
safe impregnable invisible monastery
barely room enough to exhale
decades before their conception,
when I hapt tubby
more hearty and hale,
though robust health a blessing -
this haint no rumored tattletail
inherited, aye oft womb min
eight if my embryonic stage
awaken as exultantly as Faneuil
Hall if late mull late mum's maternal
instincts intuited detail...
when during early/mid
April mcmlviii microscale,
and if reproductive event
(me) swelled her morale
inevitably genetics sported yours truly,
she did not put up for sale
though mentioned bajillion times before,
the psychological travail
inchoate grievous tell tale
manifestation begetting a male,
whose neurological wiring besmirched -
evidenced in throes of boyhood, a jail
assembled incrementally indestructible
dogging paw pa, per entail
ling faux mutt heave puppyhood
bone a fide speculation assail
lent ruff lee size biochemical cell
cuz, ladder post utero development
exhibited tight as coiled spring hightail
ling ordinary bipedal locomotion,
whereat tenseness supposedly prevail
lent to tumble down stairs fail
ling balance even with handrail
explains being somewhat of a numbskull,
where existence analogous to wail
ling human flotsam - buoy lost at sea
rudderless and undermanned,
thus such speculation I avail.