Long Whopping Poems
Long Whopping Poems. Below are the most popular long Whopping by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whopping poems by poem length and keyword.
how many times have you said
that your life is one big mess
and that the ringing in your head
tells you you're a wreck
although that thought may be true
here's some positiveness for you
take the negativity off your menu
and on this tidbit chew
keep those thoughts out of your head
although they're hungry they need not be fed
there's no need for them to spread
in the time that you have left
because if you weren't a whopping mess
how ever then would you be blessed
and in who would you find your rest
with that being said
accept that yes with great finesse
the one true God loves you no less
to him you are a beautiful mess
and he can handle it
Certain stores have discounts
Saving this or that percent
If you're old or are perceived that way -
I think that's their intent.
In supermarkets in my 'hood
On Tuesdays, says the sign,
Seniors save a whopping 10% -
Just mention it in line.
They never ask for proof; I guess
They take you at your word,
Assuming claiming to be older
Would be quite absurd.
Yet still I was surprised today
(I read the notice twice)
To purchase at the ice cream shop
A cone at senior price.
A Wednesday special, but in truth,
Am I in this alone,
To question why a senior
Needs a discount on a cone?
Outside a butcher shop in London Town
I met an old girlfriend and she made me frown
‘I remember boyfriends,’ she liked to acknowledge
‘By naming them all after all kinds of sausage.’
The first time she made a man out of a boy
Was a lad who she now calls young Savaloy Roy
Her next feller’s member was beyond belief
She now refers to him as Pork and Beef Keith
She told me her next bloke she called B.P. Lee
B.P. is black pudding… interestingly
So I asked if she had a nickname for me
‘You betcha,’ she said, your name is Chippy.’
I said, ‘Is that down to me being a carpenter?’
She said, ‘Don’t be daft, it’s short for chipolata.’
*
[in the UK a savaloy is a red skinned sausage, about 8 inches by 1.25 inches, usually accompanied by chips (thick French fries); Black Pudding is a whopping great thing that, on a man, would be inhuman; pork and beef are usually stumpy but with a good girth, and chipolatas are slender, scrawny efforts that only become interesting if you wrap them in bacon at christmas]
As a child in days gone by
Mother’s rod was swift but sure
Many a weal as time went by
Scarred my skin an ugly blue.
Nagging was the way of life
My mother used to lay the rule
Not a day did I cry
Child abuse, nor reported it at school.
Father’s hands lay thick and strong
A whopping blow upon my hide
On the day I failed at sums
That slap brought answers quick to mind.
Even when I pouted and sulked
Cups or shoes came flying high
Never ever missed the target
That mother’s aim intended to strike.
No words were kind
When I did wrong
No sparing the rod to spoil the child
Discipline the child was a daily song.
Today the cry is child abuse
For which society has no use
Put the child in a foster home
To grow up to be another deviant one.
Is it wise to spare the rod?
Or better yet to talk with the child?
Still mother’s way did well for me
To talk and live like a Jesus child.
i've lost so
many poems
while typing one
my mind has another
done but then
when I get
back to
that it
is gone but
that's the
poetics
of life
my wife
didn't know
how to skip a
stone across a
calm pond
so by showing
her she happily did
just that very thing for
over an after
noon as i smiled
and watched some
failures where the stone
just wasn't
meant to be
a skipper but
for her all had
possabilaties
as they skipped cross
the etch a sketch com
bination slide rule and gym
jock strap
just to keep
my own insecurity
we started to photo
graph the first
skipped rocks
ringing off
the water
but me being no
mathematician
but i suppose
in the back
of my head that
each thrown stone
loses speed and so
saying a whopping
nine skips turns
this pond into
a one of a
kind worth
more then a
million strativarii
yet the encroaching
weeds and sewage leave
this place
of once mem
ories to now a no
body skips stones for
levity or simply simplicity
cause of more
or less the same
thing to let the silent
unused and unstrummed
as in a seventy eight
Martin guitar i have
in my living room
i don't even
keep in
tune let
alone but
actually
left alone
out of sight
from another
time and
my excuse
is i don't
have
time
Form:
Times Square was once a sleazy place;
You wouldn’t go alone there.
When darkness fell, you held on or
You’d lose all that you owned there.
Today, though, it’s like Disney World,
With tourists, loud and surging.
There’s not an inch of space unfilled
Since everyone’s converging:
The families from Idaho,
The hawkers giving passes,
The Elmos and the messengers,
The bused-in high school classes…
The lunch-break workers, homeless dudes,
The theater geeks and shoppers,
The food carts, cabbies and the cops
And all the teenyboppers.
I love New York; don’t get me wrong
But oftentimes I wonder
If gentrifying Broadway
Might have been a whopping blunder.
Fuzzy and hairy that is what he was, a cuddly big bear. She
Undressed shyly before him while he took his own sweet time
Zesting it up with cologne before a mirror, what a nervous boy
Zorro mask in place he naughtily asked," can I use my whip ?"
You can do anything you want but leave my feet alone
So there they were two hotties revving for the big big night
Oh Oh Oh she wailed and moaned, " how I love the big wild horse"
Caressing her like a velveteen he croons into her ear, "Oh dear "
Kiss me, canoodle me but don't look at my feet Tiger, cuz if you do ?
So slowly ever so slowly he peels the blanket off her quivering body
And as he looked at her feet he took in the blue socks and crocs
Nascent desires squelched, she was no longer a sexy wench ,
Darling, what in Gods name made you wear something like that he cried
Cuz I wanted to be hot stuff for you, but my feet are always cold
Roaring with laughter he took off his mask & she noticed his brows
Oh my stars you shaved your brows! "Didn't want to be a
Caveman my dear. She giggled and squeezed him tight. I love it
Sexy Zorro. Two lovers doo whopping it, with hot sexy love...
Penelopina Teena had a birthday today,
in faerie years she's a whopping 9008!
It's such a celebration as you have never seen
was held for this tiny white petite faerie queen.
A firefly has gifted her with the finest moon dust,
for faerie magic it's such powerful fine stuff.
Faerie chef Bengali Blue made fluffy cupcakes
with Venetian icing white, pink and blue all fresh baked.
An amethyst mirror gifted by Lil'miss Teak Breeze
was framed in the finest of gold and Elvin antiqued.
Jiminy Jack presented her with great berries gold,
from his orchard full of candied sweetness, full and bold.
Faerie Wa'di de Pella, a kindly fella
brought her a fine cookbook of treats rich with vanilla.
Dragonflies came with some light homemade Sliverene cream
for which to polish Teena's fine elemental wings.
A spider played Happy Birthday on its' web of silk,
while faerie Frank Fennell poured all, coconut milk.
A band of pipers and trumpeters played in bird nest;
all offerings were presented with such joyous zest.
Birds and bugs of all species danced throughout the whole night
to mesmerizing music, such a superb delight.
As the moon bid adieu to the late partying crowd,
the celebrants vanished in a crystal mushroom cloud.
LADIES AND GENTS, hear this that I may increase your leisure benefits!
All who have labored for cleanliness, for a spic and span to savor,
please allow me now to do you the most ginormous of favors …
Sweep, vacuum, scrub, dust, mop … have those acts ever pissed
you off? Cleaning is tough, especially rough because results don’t
last long enough. I see from your faces, you know what I mean -
allow me to paint a scene: Your kitchen floor has not one
speck, not a smudge or spot nub to detect, and it is, oh, so sweet
walking that floor in your bare feet - - -SUDDENLY A DUTY
is stuck to your foot, some wretched crumb of vagrant soot,
a speck intruder you would gladly, madly shoot!
Well, lean in close for I can transpose the major bummer of gross
into … REWARDING, FULFILLING, LONG-LASTING DOMESTIC
PROSE!!
This can, this light weight can and its sprayed, domestic changing
dose keeps rooms as pristine as when newly, fully cleaned, YES,
from den to latrine to hall, it guards clean in all, even door frames
and walls!! Just spray, walk away, and this anti-dirt, clean hold vaccine,
THIS spray, right here, in my hand will, I vow, grant you a whopping
wow; allow this month-long guard warrior to protect your clean, EVEN
toilet bowls will maintain their sheen, EVEN toothpaste spit in haste –
just forget it because this spray, available this day with many ways to
pay, won’t quit it!
Just $9 a can, NO $.99 that results in 99% of us feeling a brain insult.
My trump suit against lifelong tragic tone
Lodged leisurely inside my funny bone.
By dismal doom I decline to abide -
I crack it up to a facetious side.
In each pickle, regardless size and shape,
There is a laughing matter in a jape.
When unwelcome hiccups simmer and spout,
I’d pick and poke something to smirk about.
For every spiteful slap and whopping whip
There’s an amusing snicker of a quip.
Farcical figures of speech I’d pour on -
Absurd, irony or oxymoron.
When on the dark my mindset dares to dwell,
Biting sarcasm and sharp satire mix well.
Last not least parody’s comical spin
Converts my frown into a happy grin.
Don’t sweat to second my funny bone, folks -
I chuckle and chortle at my own jokes.
Speaking of which the punch line in the pun -
And so I lived to die for - having fun!
April 23, 2023
Sponsor: Angela Tune
Contest: Character Traits