Long Stripy Poems
Long Stripy Poems. Below are the most popular long Stripy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stripy poems by poem length and keyword.
O what a time we had,
we had a time of it didn't we,
you in your stripy flouncy dress
and pink kneed splendor,
and I dragging a foot behind you,
as callow and unrisen as
a half-baked pudding.
We between us
had the blindly brilliant knowledge,
of everything not worth knowing.
We had textbooks and crayons,
to color bluer an already blue sky.
Our heads held high,
in the fancy hats of headlong youth.
God, I loved the smell of you,
not your dabs of perfume,
but the buttercup musk of you.
That afternoon I played rugby,
while you watched your bruised hero,
galumph and totter all over a muddy field.
God was kind to us wasn’t he,
he made every chicken dinner sunny-side-up,
he tinted our eyes with a simple wonder
for a while,
didn’t he?
Can I love you again, just for a moment,
love us both in this dumb poem,
that I hope speaks for everyone
at least once.
Poor little Zena zebra was feeling oh so sad
She was born an albino, which made her look bad
Zena desperately wanted to fit in with the others
And have a stripy body like her sisters and brothers
Zena thought hard and came up with a cunning plan
She would paint some stripes, so she’d have great élan
Zena went shopping in a local hardware store
Bought some black paint for the stripes she’d adore
Her stripes were brushed on by a trusted friend
But quickly the can of paint came to an end
Sadly Zena hadn’t got any more money
Her half painted body looked rather funny
How the other zebra’s laughed at poor Zena
They called her names; they couldn’t be meaner
But good luck was on little Zena’s side that day
The rain lashed down and washed the paint away
For Zena had purchased watercolour paint
Now Zena’s back to white and she has no complaint
She stands out in the crowd because she is unique
Yes she’s different from the others but her look is oh so chic
Zena stands proudly in her white coat which shines so bright
She is delighted to say not everything in life is black and white
Moral of the story it is our differences that make us unique
A delightful Children’s fable Contest Sponsored by Carol Eastman.
Submitted to z contest old or new
Sponsored by Constance La France
07~10~16
Early Times
Panting through a few females.
Running on the spot mostly.
Go to Paris to find myself
find a locally made Gallic STD.
Have a Ringo mustache,
the prostitutes on the Montmartre
think I’m pretty cool for a kid.
Beach bum along the Mediterranean,
bare feet imprinted on sand do not last,
however, sun, sex, and cheap wine
should not be underrated.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Age Twenty
Took her home to meet the parents.
A good girl,
not much sense of occasion.
Stripy rainbow knee-high socks,
mini skirt, pink hair
deeply cockney accent
and prone to casual expletives.
Father kept grinning until his smile froze.
Mother took her cues
from the Arch Duchess of mucky-muck.
~~~
Age Thirty
In the used car lot
sleazy car salesman blindsides me.
I should have been ready
more alert,
driving home in a ten year old Mercedes
wondering
if my childhood will ever end?
I am now a professional,
nurses figure larger in my life
than they ethically should.
Head for The Far East
to administer to the halt and lame
including, metaphorically speaking,
myself.
~~
Age Forty.
Finally qualify for veteran status
in a marathon race.
My athletic son is also running in it.
I fake a sprained ankle,
then disappear for ages
travelling the world.
When I return,
my shoulders grow cold from icy stares,
wife is dating someone else -
family relief all around.
~~
Age Fiftyish
Fish diet, wife still unhappy, son married
and distantly related to Trotsky.
Adorable brats for grandchildren.
Got a mistress who thinks I’m great,
but maybe it’s too late,
testosterone levels going south.
My Boss hates me.
Adultery & divorce,
new wife, much like the old one
but less y.
We roam the globe again,
desperately seeking something -
anything.
~~
Autumnal Years
The police are getting younger.
Dental appointments are reaching danger levels.
I’m not holding any grudges
for I have been right all along.
Turns out I am a poet
and quite enjoy pissing folks off.
Life is good, but then again
it always was.
~~~
Night wrinkles on dim hangers;
bell-bottom pants
two-toned platform shoes
a wide `kipper' tie.
In a pocket
a crumpled Kodachrome -
hot pants and velvet neck-choker.
‘Who is she?’
This closet is a time machine
I exited decades ago.
Dreaming hands part a frilled dress shirt
from its sky-blue tuxedo.
A stripy tank-top.
dances badly to ‘Brown Sugar’
damn you Mike Jagger
you created a monster.
There’s a rum and coke stain
floating like a ghost
through fading threads.
Time, now exhausted,
falls back onto a pillow
the wardrobe trembles like a Tardis
then disappears
into its blue police box
where every garb ever worn
still fits.
Who are you?
I am a hairy hippy, I glitter,
and Jesus Christ is still a Super Star.
She’s a sexy girl who won’t let me sleep.
Wire hangers rattle in the dark
a metallic laughter.
Nerves jiggle restless legs.
Come over here my beloved …
let’s snuggle up together on the old porch swing
to enjoy the glory of the setting sun
whilst listening to wild birds trilling
their sweetest songs
We sit together in complete silence
observing the pretty butterflies
flitting from flower to flower
fluttering their colorful bejeweled wings.
Stripy bumble bees buzz busily
collecting pollen from golden honeysuckle
which climbs over the rickety wicker trellis.
Your fingers seductively brush my thigh,
you give me your ‘knowing smile’
I see the look of love in your blue eyes -
then your lips meet mine.
Enough of seeing the birds plus the bees
you whisper -
it’s time for us to go to bed!
"A" Lipogram Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
08/27/20
I sprouted from a small seed planted firmly in the ground
With refreshing drinks of water my size it can confound!
My long legs must be supported, or I could stoop and bend
I love being out of doors where the sun is my best friend!
I’m a great sun worshipper and my face follows the sun
I tower over small plants, being tall is so much fun
On sunny days I tan my face; my seeds turn golden brown
Small children look up at me, hoping that my seeds drop down!
I’ve been told that I’m the tallest bloom in the flower bed
Some think I’m conceited, I’ve got such a giant head
Birds attack my face when they peck my tasty stripy seeds
It doesn't bother me at all, I’ll cater for their needs!
136 words
Personification Poem 150 poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
05/28/21