Long Stunk Poems
Long Stunk Poems. Below are the most popular long Stunk by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stunk poems by poem length and keyword.
Paralegically tripped you up
Did you brush your teeth
Your look weird your eyes are far too close to your mouth
now im 70 i dont think i love you
but i should have realised when i was 23
knows how we got together its a mystery
touch of your hand makes me jittery
One day i will fall
hoping ever day love
Demented every day tell you who I am
So lonely now
Shake my head heart still beating
Can't think you are so loud
Could have found love but well here we are
You baldy Gonk and your stupid face
Nocrowds here give me back my name
You stunk on the piano the same way as your mum
How could i love you the same
'Lost money your house sold never old you've always been
God your smile's goes on forever sickening mind hopefully a memory
I'm thinking about normal love not your easy lays
Once had a murder plan
Couldn't find knives but the steaks
Rolling knife in hand
be out by now
So lonely now
Take your loathing arms from me
Glasgow kissed me seen a thousand stars
Shake my head heart still beating
Can't think you are so loud
Dare i can't hear a beating heart
You were so loud
Could have found love but well here we are
love can finally start
"What I'd like to give you, is an ounce of my cologne"
Said the man to the blind date as they sat alone.
He had made it himself from bear bones,
deer antlers and oxen pheromones.
But to get her interest, he'd have to change his tone;
"It's made from roses, daisies and tulips of which I have grown."
The woman was fascinated as she blended underneath the moon,
"What I'd like to give you, is an ounce of my perfume"
She had created it with butterfly wings,
fish guts and the legs to which crickets sing.
But to gain his arousal, she'd have to change her line;
"It's made with apples, peaches and little clementines!"
So the exchange was made and under the fluids they sunk,
True love was found in this new home where both of them really stunk!
Thursday, November 4, 2021
It started with a drink I drank till drunk
when I started to wonder if I'd blink till blunk.
As I opened my eyes in a stink I stunk
and I started to think and thank till thunk.
Life beginning to sink, it sank till sunk.
I was feeling the fink; a fank with funk.
With my money going clink and clank till clunk,
I was poor to a plink of a plank gone plunk.
When I thought of a link I had linked till lunk,
come as fast as a mink of a mink gone munk.
And I started to write in an ink gone unk,
just to write down a story in the pink gone punk.
Then I started to slink and slank till slunk,
all from writing a story of kink and kunk.
Just afraid of an ending that I'd flink and flunk
as if out on the rink to rank my runk.
All to make me a trink of a trank to trunk.
I was rich in a prink of a prank gone prunk.
A chambermaid whose name is Marlia
Had the most terrible diarrhoea
Whilst scrubbing a loo
She needed to pooh
Poop flowed freely from her posterior
It splattered on the newly scrubbed door
Gloopy poop was all over the floor
There was a huge mess
It covered her dress
Her poor tummy was ever so sore
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
Marlia was filled with sorrow
A clean dress she had to borrow
flies were attracted
The mess compacted
clean up required a harrow!
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
If only she'd have taken a Tums
No mess would be left on her bums
she's still in despair
a stench in the air
To the scent of poop she succumbs
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
Marlia was dumb, thinking it was just gas
But it was much more that she had to pass
The day was torrid
Her stench was horrid
Now everyone knows Marlia has no class
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Marlia tried hard to sneak out
the trail of her poop left no doubt
Lysol was sprayed,
Her funk still stayed
cause her poop kept running out
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
Poor, poor Marlia stunk up the room
Her hubby left and she has no groom
He ran for the hills
No more night thrills,
Now she's alone and her life is doom
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
21-07-17
Under the moon light we gathered;
Giving listening ears to grandpa’s trembling lips,
As serene dusk and silence embraced
Once upon a time onsets his tip.
There was the first garden of untold beauty;
A gift to the first man with overwhelming privilege,
In which the first sin stunk humanity;
Engendering the first punishment as a badge.
Did the creator miss the creature?
Where else could they go in this plight?
These posers came like rapture,
While grandpa laughed to our naïve insight.
Still, he continued with an annunciation,
One Gabriel, one Mary in Nazareth;
Actors of act 1 scene 1 of salvation,
Here, faith steps on Everest zenith.
Nine months passed to zamani’s womb,
And the expected saviour came,
Gold frankincense and myrrh exchanged tomb
To seal Christmas fame.
"I was walking in my sin in the past I was covered up to my knees in manure. it stunk but it didn't last God made the fragrance sweet aromatic. He challenged me to be all that I am. More than I am so synthetic and it accosted me.And it enabled me and Beyond my LIFE I see. How beautiful am I on my bended knees. With my hands raised high sweetly whole episode that I flow on my opinion needs I go to the place that I know. Where He talks to me and I know and I know, I KNOW
Fragrance is my grace my heart participates, yearning long desires of a love intimate Love With My Father now. Before I expire the joyous joys the pains I walk through in this new life here on top of the earth. Everything what it's worth it's okay, I am nourished. And I am more than I am..
I am more than just a man the Father is quaint HE'S great HE'S provider of all HIS Mercy HIS grace. . Is above any law I am up to my knees and grace.. Above my head and down to the sole of my feet. I am blessed. Heavenly I thrive I stand I am graced as long as I'm on my knees. Into the top of my knees to the top of my crown the bottom of my soul I am completely yours oh Lord. James Edward Lee Sr up to my knees of grace~
I am a good heart posture as I stay on my knee elevated speaking his grace comes on to me I am treasured I am his pleasure I am his son I am chosen and I stay talking to him on my knees speak LORD Speak. AMEN "
8/27/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2023
The quiet rustle of the leaves
I am at peace over the seas
The welcoming and gentle breeze
I’m soaking up the way it feels
My grandma’s garden and her tea
The apple tree, the little bee
The timid buzz, come on! Come see!
I’m five years old, I’m fun, I’m free
The sun is blazing, it’s july
The big blue sky, oh let me fly!
Being there could be my high
It was a home, was kind, was mine
But coming back to there
There was no care, it left me bare
So much was broken, no repair
It stunk of sorrow, of despair
Outside was mild, it was cold
And my poor grandma’s getting old
I want to cradle, want to hold
But nothing comes, a dead-end road
I am fifteen, I’m angry, sad
And nobody can understand
The way I feel, my back was stabbed
That drained all of the love i had
My home is ruined, broken down
It’s just as blue as this old town
Where is my place I once had found?
It’s gone, it’s buried underground
A band of comrades rather strange I think you will agree
This oddball bunch together shared a commonality…
The panda didn’t pander to the niceties of style
He wore his usual coat which he had done for quite some while
The zebra was a Libra with an eye for what’s in fashion
She loved the skin she’s swaddled in and flaunted it with passion
The badger was a cadger but he didn’t want your suit
He’ll cadge your lunch but he’s content with being so hirsute
The puffin felt like nuffin with his massive beaky nose
But still he kept his chin up for he rather liked his clothes
The magpie wouldn’t lie although he was prepared to steal
His virtues might be fake but his apparel very real
The Penguin was depending on a chance to show his class
His haute couture was something that was absolute top brass
The skunk just stunk, not all the time, but when occasion rose
His looks were good but he was quite offensive to the nose
The orca wasn’t happy to be so far from the sea
Though he was quite a corker in his shiny livery…
So when they met the parrot they tried not to put him down
But one of them just had to say… “Did you come as a clown?”
Suicide is a topic way too serious for jokes.
Too awkward for many funny bone pokes.
But Patch Addams was played on this tone.
By a fighter of demons of others and his own.
So in the spirit of the Dead Poet Society actor.
Who influenced our lives in ways I can’t factor.
Mr. Williams showed suicide is unpredictable.
Victims like him seem happy and successful.
So put down the gun and have a good laugh.
Chuckle so hard your side will split in half.
Nothing is funnier than an idiot in action.
Laugh til you cry from the satisfaction.
There are great memes about crazy sh1t.
Helping to get those nightmares to quit.
People crack jokes to make you feel good.
Mine can fall flat like a board made of wood.
But what this goof is really trying to say.
Humor is a tool to help see another day.
Some jokes suck more ass than a toilet.
But the tear makers are lined up and set.
Yes this rhyme may make you roll your eyes.
But it worked if it stops self-destructive tries.
Some of the funniest jokes come out wrong.
Like when Borat wore a green unitard thong.
So if you think there’s no reason to carry on.
You’ll miss the meme of the guy mentally gone.
And the hilarious clips of fools way too drunk.
Plus bathroom incidents that no doubt stunk.
The GIFs that hilariously match how you feel.
Ring clips show failed thieves trying to steal.
Look I understand you have memories to lose.
But there’s many you can replace if you chose.
So remember most jokes will miss their target.
Unlike a gun aimed at the shooter with regret.
The best laughs are missed if you chose death
You don’t need it to avoid my morning breath.
So next time you think of saying a peace out.
I’ve got a raunchy pic so funny you’ll shout.
Keep your flame on, even if it’s just a flicker.
There’s reason to live if you’re ready to snicker.
They assigned me to write a sonnet about the life of a drunken writer
whose dream wouldn't shatter, but his foolishness wasn't in the past tense;
he spent endless hours reading blogs of people who didn't make sense...
in chat rooms, he found geeks, charlatans, and a casual liar.
These are the ones who can text all day as kids do for fun...
what's the excuse for being late and perform with a brainless head?
Here's proof of his laziness: he didn't write anything to earn his bread.
" Wake up, your work is piling up...you snore like pigs in a barn! "
The co-worker in the next booth sneered as the boss approached Fred
who stuttered and tried to explain why he couldn't get the work done...
while his breath stunk and couldn't stand him looking awfully mad.
" I need that article by tomorrow, or you'll get a pink slip and are gone! "
" Sir, the last article was a hit...you liked that sex-pot with those boobs! "
" Why can't I write about today's generation who have the speed of raccoons? "