Long Very silly Poems
Long Very silly Poems. Below are the most popular long Very silly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Very silly poems by poem length and keyword.
Which is better or bitter without been in cool paints?
What will remembrance be like if there is no alphabets?
To memorise all thoughts would be very silly of sages
Or something else like the divinely blessed earth revelatory saints
What more would be the perfect ever glowing safe diskettes?
Enclosed tightly in a well framed document of many pages
Power to the deaf and relief to all who stammer
Its awesomeness has learned students unique ability to create writes
Of different kinds figured historical building the classes
Which keeps redirecting and reshaping human as it continuously hammer
On all ears the need to respect one another's rights
Its effects remain despite how soon each new generation passes
Thanks to the awesome 18 consonants that romance the vowels
What more diamonds are; digged deep all out from heart
Absorbing all the beautiful thoughts of minds like dry towels
And restructure its uniqueness into a pleasant and lovely art
Ten years ago, there was a cock
Who lived up to his name.
For though he left us all well-fed,
He left the yard in shame.
Replaced was he by one who was
A very silly goose.
That goose got cooked; he cooked himself;
A danger being loose!
And with him was a vulture,
And that vulture sure was mean.
He swooped down, getting us in war
that plucked us all quite clean.
I could not rest until the two of them
Were good and gone,
Praying I’d not have to watch
That grey goose on the lawn.
Another - grinning, wrinkly-necked -
On TV bobble-bobbling,
Paced with worn-out rhetoric
He was fond of gobble-gobbling.
And by him was his sidekick,,
Female version of a “Quayle.”
I hoped inside the white barn
that chick would never dwell.
The other bird, a darker fowl,
“said” he didn’t want a war.
He was called by some a “chicken"
But at least cared for the poor!
So for November’s bird
He was voted on one day -
The turkey that was chosen
Before Thanksgiving Day.
Two years have past and nothing's changed
The same old cuckoo song.
And I don’t see a good bird yet
To even come along.
How sad there’s no bird like the one
who from a forest came,
Then presided in the white barn.
Now a statue bears his name.
Like an eagle, symbol of
this stretch of land was he.
But since his time, few birds have flown
much higher than a tree.
It’s geese and quails and chickens
and turkeys growing here
while people on this vast great land
are filling up with fear.
I'd hoped our newest turkey were
an eagle in disguise,
and that he’d get to take us soaring
into bluer skies.
For how much longer can our farm
keep running all amuck,
in which case we’re all better off
electing Donald Duck!
For Nate Dilt's "I Hate Politicians" contest
PICKLE PARTY
The pickles were having a party
In the superstore one night.
The manager was home in bed
So they knew they were all right.
It was a singles party,
Each looking for a mate.
Someone to share a jar with
Until their sell-by date.
One lady pickled pepper
Immediately clicked.
She was the pickled pepper
Peter Piper picked
A young girl in the corner
Was acting very silly
Under the influence of drink.
They called her ‘Pickled Lilli”
But the drunkest one among them
Was a pickled gherkin.
He’d been at the bar all evening.
He must have drunk a firkin.
He had a well-used chat-up line,
But whatever it was he said,
It must have been a bit saucy
For the beetroot turned bright red.
An old pickle said to the DJ,
“Please turn the music down”
He was a pickled walnut,
Ancient, wrinkled and brown
A very sweet pickle called Olive
And an onion got on very well.
But although they felt an attraction,
It was doomed to fail, sad to tell
They say that opposites attract
But you have to draw the line.
She had been pickled in vinegar
And he had been pickled in brine.
Then all too soon it was over.
The party had come and gone.
They had to go home to their shelves.
The day shift was signing on.
24th August 2022
It's a Pickle Party poetry contest
Sponsor - Mystic Rose Rose
My Haylee; My Waylee
I still remember when you used to cry all day nearly daily
My Little Boog-Ann
You also smell like a crayon
My Prettiest Girl
You're like the prettiest pearl
My Cutie Patootie
Always kind and never snooty
My Haylee-Anner
Your Aunt Carmen says you're a McBanner
My Little Miss Priss
All with a hand in your face and a look like "Can't touch this!"
My teeny tiny Babydoll
I bet you drive your Grandma up the wall
You are my One Little Sunshiny Lady
Without you in it my world's been much too shady
Oh how I can't wait till the day when you, your brothers and baby sister come home
But until then, Little One, Mommy has written you this very silly poem
Form:
I am calling Him and he is calling Him
Everyone is calling Him to heal pains
Very closer to us He is very near to us
We are searching with our closed eyes
Though His glorious face is in front of us
In our dirty and dark heart
We are searching Him in that dark and dirty
He has millions of hands to help
We are asking Him very silly thinks instead of our capital ones
He is smiling for our ignorance and weeping for our sorrows
Though He is in our heart step and in our eye step
We are searching Him in all rocks and trees
Our searches are going on beyond the sky and in our books
He is smiling and waiting to help in our needs but
We are searching him in our paintings
Search not Him in the caves and mountains
Feel Him as air to our breath and take Him as your food
He will be with you as your thoughts and mind
Let's Have Some Fun Contest
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
I'll admit being green is not the easiest thing,
a frog looks very silly in a broken arm sling.
Yesterday Fozzie got a job singing at Shamrock Bar,
I told him I would drive cuz' it's not very far.
Out ran Rizzo the rat, stood like a deer in headlights,
I wanted to see Ms. Piggy later...oh, of all the nights!
Swerved and crashed into Rowlf's juniper dog house,
"oh I can't believe that annoying little mouse!"
Rowlf had the company of Animal and Gonzo,
what a sight to see Gonzo with an emerald afro!
We walked in to find a parakeet sleeping in moss,
"oh man, my arm hurts! It's about to fall off!"
I heard, “ARG! RAH!” Animal threw me a frozen lime,
I thought, “ will this really help? Pain is shooting to my spine!”
Then Scooter ran out with pickles, pears and olives,
Swedish Chef “Shmuf shaf”, was cooking basil and sage omelets!
I saw Staler and Waldorf cracking jokes in the balcony,
"I'm getting so annoyed, this is not the time for comedy!"
And who would have thought they would be the best greeters?
A first aid kit came out from Dr. Bunson and Beaker!
"Geez, I am feeling a little better, this injury is no biggie,
in walks my concerned lover, the bossy diva Ms. Piggy!
I'll admit being green is not the easiest thing,
a frog looks very silly in a broken arm sling.
Different Shades Of Green Used: 1. Shamrock 2. Juniper 3. Emerald 4. Parakeet
5. Moss 6. Lime 7. Pear 8. Olive 9. Basil 10. Sage
~Date Written : March 1, 2016~
What is the meaning of a day with no sunrise?
It’s not much different from the days before.
I lie here in a field of flowers and butterflies,
Hoping for an answer to this and so much more.
I ask my wife this question every single day.
She just stares at me with a sad look on her face.
I guess that maybe it’s a very silly thing to say,
But I feel there’s something odd about his place.
People stop by for a visit, but they never stay long.
Some have a lot to say, others not so much at all.
Is it something that I’ve done or said that’s wrong?
They don’t answer; it’s as if I’m talking to a brick wall.
I feel so lonely here by myself when it’s late, after dark.
Nobody comes around my place at this time of night.
The only thing near me is a tree that’s losing it bark.
It’s been weeks since I’ve felt the warmth of sunlight.
I make my home in an old, gnarled oak tree,
well, that is where I was born and I never left;
it is a woodpecker hole- mother made the nest,
I had seven siblings but they are all gone;
and mother left too . . . I am not sure why.
I spend my daylight hours collecting acorns,
they are plentiful under my oak tree;
sometimes, I bury them which is very silly,
because I never remember where they are;
but most of them I bring into my nest.
Somehow, I seem to know that I need to,
for the winter is coming and it will be cold;
there will be snow covering the ground,
and no food to be found- except in my nest;
so, I collect acorns all summer and fall.
The days and nights are freezing cold,
but, I am warm and cozy in my nest of acorns;
happily I eat and peak out for a view sometimes,
then, I curl up for a long, long, long snooze;
and so it goes . . . all the winter long.
One day I reach for my acorn pile,
and to my alarm there is only one acorn left;
THE LAST ACORN . . . oh gosh what now,
I stick my head outside and feel the sun;
it is Spring and I rush down my tree.
_________________________
April 26, 2020
Poetry/Personification/Acorns Are My Life
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1246-600-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair
Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't very
fuzzy, was he!
But...
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a ducky
(warm underwater-- how lucky!)
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a gerbil
(naturally, he was non-verbal)
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a kitty
(and by the way, very pretty)
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a puppy
(so much fuzzier than a guppy)
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a packrat
(but don't let him hear you say that!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bird
(and he loved his lemon curd!)
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a kitten
(all who met her were quite smitten!)
~Natasha L. Scragg (Sept. 3, 2021)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you think of more Fuzzy Wuzzy animal rhymes,
please share them in the Comments below this! :)
Trust is so much a part
of every relationship –
I mean, I love my cat,
but he has this disconcerting
way of sleeping with one
eye open, as if checking out
the terrain, listening for
incoming -- well, he's
either a very silly, typical
paranoid cat...or they
know the human soul
a lot better than we admit
to.
Cats seem to have two basic
instincts: start and run – while
mankind has 3: more, more, and
more....
I was going to cut the grass today;
then thought, as with dust, grass can
wait till tomorrow – unlike laundry and
cat litter that seem to ferment awfully –
therefore, some must-do chores were
gotten too...while executing the
routine tasks I wondered, why do
I hang-on so? A little kitty meowed.