Long Tums Poems
Long Tums Poems. Below are the most popular long Tums by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tums poems by poem length and keyword.
Today for lunch I dined on some Tex-Mex cuisine,
jalapeno topped enchiladas and refried beans;
a favorite here in Texas, that can’t be denied,
but this afternoon I am battling the fire inside.
Washed it down with a margarita and wedge of lime,
it was very soothing and delicious at the time.
It gave my head a little buzz and made me cross-eyed,
but now my gut is suffering from this fire inside.
I used to have no trouble eating this spicy food,
but now it causes burning in my stomach to intrude.
And yet I do not worry for in my desk does hide
a jar of Tums to relieve me from this fire inside.
November 7, 2017
Poem of the Day - November 8, 2017
I thought that she was smiling at me
Until I saw her reaching for the Tums
I thought that she was giving me a wink
Until I saw the contact sitting on her thumb
I thought that she was waving at me
Until I saw the bee buzzing round her head
I thought that she was picking flowers for me
Until I noticed that they all were dead
I thought I had won the lottery
Until I saw the ticket was just a trick
I thought I was going to own Excalibur
Until I couldn’t budge it even a bit
I thought I was getting promoted
Until the pink slip did arrive
I thought I was backing away from the wall
Until I saw the gear shift sitting on Drive
I thought that I had won the game
Until I looked up at the scoreboard
I thought that I was getting a new car
Until I figured out it was more than I could afford
I thought that I was writing a masterpiece
Until I reread the manuscript
I thought that it would come up heads
Until I saw the tails at the end of the flip
Sometimes people ask me... What's in your purse...
So I tell them the best that I can...
Lipstick, chapstick, matchstick
What’s in your purse?
Billfold, change purse, money counter, and clip?
Aspirin, Tylenol, Tums, coupons and stamps…
Tissue, pressure bandage, Mom excuse tablet!
What’s in your purse?
House keys, car keys, skate keys and a toothbrush.
Toothpick, dental floss, yesterday’s movie ticket.
Magnifying glass, insect book, handy magic cards?
What’s in your purse?
Personal stuff, extra stuff, and just stuff.
Needed stuff, wanted stuff list…
And all the stuff I meant to take out.
What’s in your purse?
Crayons, a pen, a magic marker, and chalk.
Hodgepodge, glue stick, and tape…
A clown an elf and two small mice.
What’s in your purse?
Bird Seed, fish food, and a safety pin.
A feather from a goose, an empty candy wrapper.
A small notebook with and without lines.
What’s in your purse?
Gum, a straw and an eyedropper.
A paperclip that floats like a boat,
And a folding flying airplane.
What’s in your purse?
Flashlight, book light, nightlight.
NASA blanket and plastic rain suit.
Hairnet and socks that match.
What’s in your purse?
Paintbrush, hairbrush, dog brush.
Playdough, finger puppets and jelly packets.
A flashlight, a monocle, and a bingo dabber.
What’s in your purse?
A calendar, a phone, and things that I have to have.
Pictures of those I love.
And a little cross…
What’s in your purse?
Jesus!
A RATTLING RHYME
“Few things are more delightful than grandchildren fighting
over your lap.” – Doug Larson (and I add laptop or tablet)
WHISPER SWEET NULLS
Up the steps. Here them roar -
here they come with big smiles.
These two brothers at odds
in short race to the door.
Their short grandmother tall,
she leans down to give hugs,
but must wait for the bell -
has great ring - what a ball!
Off fly shoes and then socks
And each boy has one thing
on their mind: to be first
to put thumbs to the box.
Other toys left idle.
They’re no match for the fire
of the games that conspire -
That do whisper sweet nulls.
Off they run once again
after filling their tums.
They do tear off their shirts
off to fight - see who reigns.
The old box - it stays cold
for their sight, it is set
on the same old new games
and the ads that are bold.
Their behinds, they are warm
in their grandmother’s chair
and so likely to say
when bell rings, “it’s not fair!”
They are forced to go home.
There are chores; and some odds
and their ends for their school
but no games! That’s not cool.
Last Christmas I made ten plum pies
To donate to poor homeless guys
But my kids ate them all
You should have heard me bawl
Bed early, there’s no compromise!
The next morning they all had sore tums
A result of eating all those plums
With green faces and sad eyes
I made THEM bake some more pies
They would not even touch the pie crumbs!
They helped carry the pies to the poor
We gave them in at the shelter door
When they saw the poor men
They will now think again
Of eating all the pies from mom's store
FICTION POEM
Punny holiday pies contest
Sponsored by Michelle Faulkner
11/16/18
I've always lived in Southern California.
I've never heard of summer rain.
This notion, I have to say, quite honestly,
Strikes me as insane.
I might as well speak of fluffy penguins
Who live in the Sahara,
Or opine on the wit and wisdom of pigs
Who wear lipstick and mascara.
Or interview an illustrious duck
Who opens his bill to sing,
"Won't You Come Home Bill Bailey", and then
Composes "The Rite of Spring."
I may just as well play mumblety-peg
With a hamster wearing braces,
Or play high-stakes poker with a wily fox
Who deals me eights and aces.
Or dine on blue marbles and split-pea soup
With a seasoning of Tums,
Or perform "Swan Lake' or "Claire de Lune"
On just harmonica and drums.
And now I'll slide comfortably into my fridge,
All wrapped in cellophane,
And say from the top shelf, "that's about all
I know about summer rain."
You'll never know how much I gag on peanuts
You'll never know how rotten peanuts are.
Listen.
Do you want to eat a peanut
Do you promise not to heave.
Woh oo Woo oh
Closer.
Let me stuff one in your ear
So that you can hardly hear
I'm in love with Tums oo oo oo oo.
I've eaten peanuts for a week or two
Don't chew them up they come out in your poo
Listen.
Doo Wah Doo. Do you want to eat a peanut
Doo Wah Doo. Do you promise not to heave.
Woh oo Woo oh
Closer.
Doo Wah Doo. Let me stuff one in your ear
Do Wah Doo. So that you can hardly hear
I'm in love with Tums oo oo oo oo
Oo oo oo oo oo.
Politicians are paid as a last resort
to attend the summit accomplishing nought
but flap their lips expose their gums
feed their face and fill their tums
all the hot air they expend
I don't exaggerate
discussing climate change in the end
will only exacerbate
the ongoing problem long-since forming
a future foreboding of global warming
for every page and pamphlet printed
put in the post or stuck on walls
about ecology and saving the woods
it seems to me yet another tree in the forest falls
and I believe for every drop of acid rain
a flower dies
somewhere under the darkest skies
a new-born baby cries
With apologies to; Ervin Drake, Irvin Graham, Jimmy Shirl & Al Stillman
Little Heidel clapped her hands
As she heard the marching bands
Monkeys came who were leading
With their funny tails beating
Colorful and cheerful drums
Ratta-tat and Rummy-tums
Next up came some marching tunes
clarinets played by baboons
Elephants marched next in line
Blowing horns, they did just fine
Heidel watched in joy at those
Now came cats, bells on their toes!
Heidel's papa jumped for joy
Up next came a little boy
Playing fiddle joyfully
Heidel laughed for she could see
Brother Petra winked an eye
As the marching band passed by
Heidel's dream was so much fun
But her nap was finally done
Wiping way' sleep from her eyes
What she did next was no surprise!
Opening her pink toy box
Found her monkeys made from socks
Happy laughter followed soon
Heidel found her toy baboon
Stuffed elephants, a toy cat
She made them march,
just like that
Heidel's papa came to see
Petra's fiddle joined with glee
Everybody shared a smile
Their joy lasted quite awhile
Heidel's toys were oh so grand
Such a happy marching band!
Heidel made her dream come true
Now her story's told to you!
Just for fun!
Dedicated to Grammy's sweet angels
My children and grandkids
Make your dreams come true!
<3
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