Long Stick up Poems
Long Stick up Poems. Below are the most popular long Stick up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stick up poems by poem length and keyword.
I Am: Hello guys it’s an honor, fellows
Moe: HELLO!
Larry: HELLO!
Curly: HELLO!
The Three Stooges: HELLOS!
I Am: You’re known as half-wits, birdbrains, knuckleheads,
Curly, you’re known as Porky pine, right?
As a little girl I never appreciated rough-housing humor.
Moe a mean man and you weren’t very bright
I did adore Curly with sisterly affection.
Curly: You ain’t half bad yourself toots! With my reclamation
Moe: Remind me to kill you later, hmm, maybe strangulation
Curly: OK, I’ll make a note of it! Can’t make me worry
Larry: Stick up for yourself Curly!
Moe: Yeah, what do you have to say?
Curly: Well, I oughta—tell ya another day
Moe: You oughta what? Have some finess
Curly: I oughta mind my own business
Moe: That’s better! Porky Pine
I Am: Moe, would you take another question of mine?
Moe: Yeah, make it snappy,
Larry: Moe’s always been too slap happy
I AM: Were you at one time called Ted Healy’s Racketeers?
Moe: The Southern Gent’s, knucklehead! Like the Three Musketeers
I Am: Your genres are farce, slapstick, musical comedy
Curly is the schlemiel—stupid, childish, and clumsy.
Larry is the schlimazel because he's not quite as stupid
but still ends up unlucky with cupid.
Moe, are you the aggressive and short-tempered leader of you three?
Curly: Why coitainly
Moe: The lady, you imbecile, is talking to me,
Curly: Hey, I resemble that remark!
Curly: Hey Moe, I can’t see! I can’t see!
Moe: Why’s that? Is it too dark?
Curly: ‘Cuz I have my eyes closed!
Moe: Wait’ll I punch you in the nose!
I Am: My best Three Stooges episodes were—Brideless Groom,
Disorder in the Court, Malice in the Palace, Sing a Song of Six Pants,
and Heavenly Daze
Larry: That’s five. Miss I Am are you in a haze?
Moe: Yeah Genius!
I Am: Thank you for your calculation, I quess
I Am: Do any one of you have a real job anywhere?
Curly: Why coitainly, I just got a job in a bakery
Moe: You never told me that numskull. What do you do there?
Curly: I’m a loafer!
Larry: That’s not surprising, and tell her you were a chauffer
I Am: Goodnight “Three Stooges” Love and Luck
Curly: Asta! NYUK! NYUK! NYUK!
The loud fastest growing
non-thinking hand-it-over
flowers are abrasive
to some who feel they are truly weeds,
just messing up us real flowers
Their gnarly appearance is
off putting because they
are not the approved people, they are clover.
They look different, they dress
different, they advocate giving
away stuff to so-called poorer flowers.
They are way too giving with our flower seeds.
This is our seed; we made it.
You cannot take it away from us.
Our gardners purchased it online or in stores.
it is ours until we throw it in the garbage.
We do not like the
abrasive irritating selfish
non-thinking hand-it-over
flower weeds who
are screaming for our seed,
who want our well-earned pollen.
Sit in the sun yourself, you poison ivy leaves!
These give-it-all-to-us weeds sometimes become
abrasive in our gardens. They are overbearing,
disrespectful, trotting over us flowers in a mean
and arrogant way.
We are so irritated with them,
they are covering us up quickly and thickly, loud and proud.
We stick up our noses and try to push through their
hard-headed, do-it-our-way-and-give-us-everything ranks.
Then when we are mortally wounded, and we see
little hope, when we lose our fight, and become weeds
ourselves, our perspective changes. We become the
arrogant and rude take-over types, tromping over each
little marigold and lavender slice, silencing them.
We are now the desperate, take-over weeds,
screaming for our due. We become the bullies.
I have no idea how to rectify the approved
flowers with us weeds, but we weeds soon
get our own way, we become
incensed, and crafty, and our dendrites kick in.
Some of us dandelions have developed magical powers.
We figured out how to look and sound less weed-like.
Some of us are running for political office,
telling the loveliest most naïve flowers what they need
to hear to get onboard and give us their seeds.
Knowing they will soon be joining the world of
weeds, and loving the knowledge we have done
it with little bloodshed, only craftiness and stealth.
Oh, it is fun to be on the bad side.
Somedays I need a little push
To reach the closing bell
Owners push to the point of exhaustion
Creating a workplace of living hell
I am at the point in my life
Where I dont hold back my words
I stick up for my coworkers
Even if I'm labelled as absurd
I've always gone down swinging
So those who push me be aware
I strike back like a venomous cobra
So push me if you dare.
Political correctness is bull
Created for pussies with no spine
I will say what's right regardless
If I cross your precious line
Men used to carry themselves with pride
And stand for what is right
Now they are afraid of hurt feelings
And lose their backbone to fight
You may not like the words I speak
I really dont care how you feel
I wasn't created for your good pleasure
But to have integrity and keep it real
wouldn't it be fun
to look after number one
To stop this constant worry
wouldn't it be fun if I got some nerve
To stick up for myself
to keep my head held high
wouldn't it be fun, to take you off that pedastool
To stop this constant worrying
wouldn't it be fun, to stop being insecure
To always ask if your angry
to always appologize even if its not my fault
wouldn't it be fun,to scream
To stop harming myself
to stop making myself sick
wouldn't it be fun
To respect myself again
to stop begging on my knees
wouldn't it be fun to stop saying sorry
To stop being so sad
to know that I am good enough
wouldn't it be fun to have some self confidence
To let you know how I really feel
to stop you from laughing, when I try to tell you how I feel.
wouldn't it be nice to concentrate
To worry about my future
to not worry if you ignore me
wouldn't it be fun
To know that I am good enough
to know that being alone is ok
wouldn't it be fun
To remeber who I used to be
to know that if everything doesn't work out I will survive
wouldn't it be fun
To love myself
for once
wouldn't it be fun
To love myself without you reassuring that fact
to know that I am loveable in general
wouldn't it be fun if i got some guts
To be daring
to love myself
wouldn't it be fun
for you to acknoledge this?
Form:
society has fallen prey to the status quo
unwilling to stand up for the God we all love and know
more concerned with being acceptable in the eyes of man
afraid to step out, to blaze a trail or even to take a stand
looking for approval from any and everyone
searching for commendations until the day is done
but a true Christian, a child of God can always discern
to stand up for God no matter how hot the fires will burn
and hope that those who worship false idols will one day see
that to fall under the devil's influence will lead to purgatory
don't ever let go of what you truly believe in life
take your stand and hold firm to the principles of the Lord Christ
be willing to stand boldly and tell society to it's face
that you wholly trust in the one true God who is full of mercy and grace
for greater is the God that is in me
greater than anything that man could ever be
take your stand in life and be true to your beliefs
don't fall for society's ways of ease and relief
don't hang with crowds for they'll slow you up or hurry you along
stand alone in the righteousness of God knowing right from wrong
tell that group of so-called friends you don't have time for pettiness
as you're too busy listening to God and keeping His holiness
fear not said the Lord, it's time to stand and fight
don't worry about the enemy for his dark can't diminish God's light
the enemy may huff and he may puff but he can't blow your foundation down
for you are standing on the word of God and are now on higher ground
for the devil is a liar and like a hooker always on the stroll
so be anxious over nothing as Father God is in control
to be like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego
to refuse to bow down to a graven image with a golden glow
take your stand, hold to God's hands and let the whole world see
that you won't accept any and all types of immorality
take your stand, stick up for Christ and tell the so-called powers that be
that you will only kneel down in the face of the Lord God's authority
take your stand, keep the faith, trust in God and have no fear
for He's in complete control and will always be there
Hey! Your hair is sticking up!
This news flash is from a seven-year-old.
I know, I tell him. It’s Dad hair.
I can’t do anything with it.
I have two cowlicks.
Sometimes they both stick up
looking like horns, which goes well with my personality.
You could comb it, my husband says.
He has bought me combs.
No idea where they are.
I have no interest in my hair or the hair of others.
So of course God made me the mother of three daughrers.
Two of them do their hair.
The other one is like me, we don't even like to wash it.
Tonight a male beautician asked me what I wanted.
I said “do whatever you want. I hate hair.”
“Great!” he said. “You will be the funkiest grandma in town.”
“I am already the funkiest grandma in town,” I informed him.
“Do a Mohawk. I don’t care.”
When he finished he said “I forgot to do the Mohawk.”
“That’s okay,” I told him. “My boss is conservative.”
But I did leave him a big tip
for not taking my advice.
The bully of the parrot world, the Rainbow Lorikeet
To find one that was friendly, would be quite a feat
They will fight all other parrots, those larger and the small
They always fight among themselves, 'till no strangers left at all
We have one that we call Grumpy, he shows not the slightest fear
Not even for the human kind, we have invited here
Touch his seed he'll get a finger, or maybe even worse
He strikes so quick and by surprise, would make a Parson curse
At times the ducks from our canal, come up and gather round
Grumps rides them like a jockey, with the wildest screeching sound
Flapping wings and biting neck, no mercy does he show
Until they reach the water, only then does he let go
Red Wattle birds can beat a crow, to Grumps they show defeat
He has the violence of the devil, and a passion can't be beat
One day he went a bit too far, a young Rosella killed
Can't have that going on round here, a trap I had to build
Sunflower seed sat on the plate, a line tied to the trip
When he and his wife had entered, I gave the catch a slip
Took the cage and put it in the boot, he would relocate
Drive an hour down to the river, will release you here old mate
They flew off did a circle, came back perched in a tree
They stopped to say goodbye to us, or so it seemed to me
They took off flew down the river, parting is such pain
We knew now they had left us, never would see them again
The trip home was a quiet one, gave us time to think
How friends can come from anywhere, just have to make the link
Six days later there in bed, a lorikeet heard call
I recognised old Grumpy's sound, nearly made me bawl
When I took him west I felt quite sure, that longitude would win
Before we had a timepiece, it kept humans in a spin
But now he's home and shows he's smart, no more homicidal
He still does stick up for his dig, in charge and never idle
Never held a grudge to us, even after that long trip
Will perch upon my good wife's head, and rarely makes a slip
Comes and sits down on my knee, much as if to say
If we behave ourselves from now, any chance you'll let us stay
True story of a lorikeet pair at sussex inlet nsw Australia
Outside the laws or standards
Inside my mind there are no laws, no limits
In ur world is not where my mind resides
Like a bank robber uses a gun
I use words
Stick 'em up!
Laws of poetry be damned
My words will shock the system
Some of my words aren't found in Webster's
My style is unique and illicits questions
Structure is meant 4 buildings and machines
Take your beliefs & turn them upside down
Rhymes belong in the nursery
No mask will be worn during this stick up
My heart & soul is on my sleeve
I write for the lost & broken hearted
I write for the lovestruck & lustful
I write for the vengeful & violent
I write for the angry & joyful
I write for the criminals & the redeemed
I write for anyone who doesn't know how to express what is going on in their mind
If you look really hard
U can find a piece of my soul in every poem
Sometimes u can find a piece of urs too
A lost memory spark
Like a song that brings u back to a moment in ur life
My song is in the flutter of Dragonfly wings
Oh, there is that piece
Filling pages with chaos & cussing
Curse words are used to make a point & express emotion
I use them often
U can only find those versions in private
Catch me, judge me, hang me
I used the "F" word
I curse too much!
My thoughts r sexual & possibly illegal
My words r violent & loud
My hands r loving & firm
My past haunts me daily
My ideas r radical & electrical
Light Bulb!
Everything a poem shouldn't be!
Mission in progress....
Riding in like John Dillinger
Public Enemy #1
A Criminal & Outlaw for the reader
I share all of it with u
The good, bad & the ugly
No matter how it comes out or seems
Sometimes feelings don't make sense
I do my best
Time to ride off into the sunset
With the wind at my back
And on the top side of green grass
It's been a helluva ride
I tip my hat to u
I will see u when I see u!
I have not been in a bathroom with the door closed for nineteen years.
This is what being a grandma is all about.
If I closed the door, I would either pinch little fingers
or the baby punk’n carrier seat would not fit in there with me.
I have willingly given up the luxury of privacy, and here is the perk.
When I lose my mind for good I plan to stick up a mean-looking
Convenience store with bars on the windows.
Something in a seedy neighborhood, where the owner is apt to be packing.
One of three things will happen.
One. I will be shot dead by the clerk who does not know my gun is fake.
Two. Death by cop. I am sorry, but if it is to be, it is to be.
Three. I will be taken alive, and given a cell and a roommate for the rest of my life.
I can stop making house payments, and luckily, I already know privacy is no big deal.
Think of all the money my children will save by not having to pay for a nursing home too.
O my Lord, I hope you don’t see man as virus or disease
This bright blue globe you gave us faces such profound unease
We’re told that we will drown or burn though some of us will freeze
And only you can save us… can we have our ball back please
We drive our cars and fly in planes for holidays on skis
And now they tell us that we’ve brought our planet to its knees
We’re gonna catch the sun and stick up windmills in the breeze
Which feels like ‘fingers-crossed’ so, can we have our ball back please
We make it, break it, use it up
We throw it in the trash
And then we buy another one
Cos all it costs is cash
But now it seems our number’s up
We’ve been a little rash
This Earth unlike the phoenix
May not rise up from the ash
Another storm has ripped up houses, bridges, cars and trees
The sewers overflowed into the rivers and the seas
But now we’re in a heatwave and it’s thirty-five degrees
It’s really rather hot so can we have our ball back please
The scientists keep saying we eat too much meat and cheese
They tell us we can all survive on lentils, beans and peas
Which won’t achieve too much when just a few of us agrees
And so I have to ask you, can we have our ball back please
We make it, break it, use it up
We throw it in the trash
And then we buy another one
Cos all it costs is cash
But now it seems our number’s up
We’ve been a little rash
This Earth unlike the phoenix
May not rise up from the ash
This thing that’s wrong with planet Earth is killing bugs and bees
And coral reefs have had their day in many far off seas
Though governments may talk a lot, they never hear our pleas
Their taxes will not save us… can we have our ball back please
We leave our oil and gas right there beneath the sands and seas
Then ship more in with diesel fumes and importation fees
We’re gonna catch the sun and stick up windmills in the breeze
Which feels like ‘fingers-crossed’ so, can we have our ball back please
We make it, break it, use it up
We throw it in the trash
And then we buy another one
Cos all it costs is cash…
To save the world we’re armpit deep
In net zero decrees
But only you can save us…
Can we have our ball back please