Long Wriggly Poems

Long Wriggly Poems. Below are the most popular long Wriggly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wriggly poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Thats a Moray

[An offering for fans of Dean Martin... or not. More or
less to the tune of ‘That’s Amore’ (not the ‘In Napoli’ bit),
this is the cleaned up version of an unprintable original.
In UK ‘Old Fellow’ is a euphemism for... let’s just call it
man’s best friend.]
                                         ***


Big long fish in the sea
Eight foot long and wriggly
That's a Moray
Well I pooped in my trunks
It was biting off chunks
That's a Moray

First it bit my thing
My ding a ling a ling
People on the scene
Heard me bellow
This big fish just bit me
And it swam away with my old fellow

Then I heard someone squeal
That big fish was an eel
That's a Moray
Then they bought me a skirt
To conceal where I hurt
Fair enough

Well, I gave it a whirl
Living life as a girl
But no more, eh?
’Cause I went down the pub
For a flirt and some grub
That’s amore

See , this bloke wandered by
With that look in his eye
That’s amore
He said hey babe what’s yours
Slipped his hand down my drawers
That’s amore?

But he felt quite a chump
As he fondled my stump
End of soirée 
Had a tear in my eye
At his hasty bye bye
That’s amore 

I learned electronics
Made some bionic bits
That’s amore
Ladies squeal with delight
When I ‘stay up’ all night
They’re in love

And they all ask of me
Is that whole thing for me
That’s...
A Moray
But I’ll write nothing more
As I think this has gone...
...Far enough.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Wriggle

I’m not string, I’m not spaghetti
And I’m certainly no yeti
With a bit more evolution
Could have been a John Paul Getty

But I love to make you squirm
Cos I’m just a wriggly worm
Yes I’m smaller than a human
But far bigger than a germ

Children often giggle
when they watch me wiggle wiggle
It’s actually a wriggle
But I wouldn’t want to niggle

But when I slither slither
They run off hither thither
For sometimes its just fun but
sometimes fear that I deliver

I was living in the park
In my tunnel nice and dark
From the sound of those vibrations
Kids up top had quite a lark

Well I should have stayed down deep
But I came up for a peep
Then I caught a rapid movement
And got captured by a creep

So he dropped me in a tin
My wife and kids already in
So I swelled up nice and thick
Cos my wife and kids were thin

So when he had a look
It was I - the worm he took
And now I’m slowly drowning
While I wriggle on his hook

But then I see a chance
And I take a second glance
I can’t believe I see
Some wartime ordinance 

So I jiggled and I shook
And I wriggled off the hook
It was in a former life
That I’d read a wartime book

And so my plan well made
I hooked up the hand grenade
And said a quick Hail Mary 
At the ticking sound it made

Sometimes it’s a win win
My family’s safe inside a tin
As I give the line a tug
And he reels his tackle in
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Fisherman's Tale

A FISHERMANS TALE
By
Kevin L Fairbrother


Blowering Lake in the Snowy’s is the place to be
To catch a Yellowbelly or Silver Perch
Or if you are lucky a Murry Cod or a trout
They all live beneath the cold waters of the lake

I flog the water with spinning rod and lure
Changing frequently my choice of lure
I try to entice a fish to strike…but no luck
At this rate I would be lucky to catch a cold

Along comes a regular fisherman, introduced himself as Wayne
Having any luck old mate he asks, not me mate I have no luck
No bloody fish here I says to Wayne, He says it’s not luck you need
It’s a worm on a hook and pure skill that will get you a fish

He sets up his rod and baits the hooks with wriggly worms from his garden
He casts the line out into the lake and proceeds to make a cup of tea
No sooner had he poured the tea when he had a strike, he set the hook
I’ve got a nice fish on you grab the net be ready to catch him


You lucky old bugger I says to Wayne, no luck involved just pure skill
A 2kg Yellowbelly as fat as mud he will go down well for tea
Not to be outdone I changed my lure and cast it into the lake
On my third cast I spotted the dark shape of a fish following

A strike I yelled as I set the hook and the fish- well he took off
I played him out till he started to tire, fetch the net old mate
This fish is a whopper; I played him out till he went belly up
Wayne rushed over and gently placed the net under the fish

Wow what a fish Wayne said the bugger is twice as big as mine
You were bloody lucky- I reckon I brought you good luck say’s Wayne
No bloody luck involved I say’s to Wayne, old mate
It’s just my good looks and pure skill

Premium Member Frankys Party - Format Corrected

Franky was seven and having a party
He told all his school-mates, except for Spud Carty
And once they had heard that Spud wasn't invited
All of them said they were really excited

And then at the party the kids all had fun
Which might have continued if Spud hadn't come
Spud  didn't play games, he was not in the mood
He’d much rather stuff himself full of free food

He grabbed all the biscuits and scoffed the whole lot
And all the Bombay mix although it was hot
He snaffled the sarnies and some went down whole
Then grabbed the spaghetti piled up in a bowl

He gobbled so much that he struggled to chew
Then Franky cried out, that's not only for you
Spud simply laughed spitting food as he said
We all gotta eat... or else we'd be dead

And that was when poor Franky found himself wishing
His dad had stayed home and had not gone off fishing
Spud sucked spaghetti like slithering snakes
And said when I'm done, gonna find me some cakes

But Franky looked sick and he started to squirm
That sgetti looks just like a wriggly worm
And Spud got annoyed when he heard someone giggle
Don't be so stoopid, spaghetti can't wriggle

Spud swallowed more, that spaghetti was yummy
He said with a grin as he patted his tummy
You lot he shouted must really be thick
To get the food first you'd have to be quick

The front door swung open, there stood Franky's dad
He looked a bit angry, in fact he looked mad
I’m meant to be fishing but I'm running late
I got to the lake but forgot all my bait

I've checked out the shed and I've looked all around
Wherever I look there's no bait to be found
Was it indoors his son Franky enquired
So it would be handy when it was required

Right there on the table his father confirms
An old plastic dish, full of wriggly worms
And that was when Spud's belly started to grumble
And everyone heard his guts starting to rumble

Spud almost flew to the lavatory
What happened next was a horror story
And when throwing up seemed much less of a danger
He left with kids calling out, Don't be a stranger!
Form: Rhyme

O Hedgehog!

Hedgehog, O hedgehog
dear spiny, meek and mousy poppet.
In England
where the tickly grass grows
greener
we galumph in our rubber boots
up to your little
Hobbit nests
beneath the thorny bushes
were you rests.

We the ever scampy
nippers
fill tin cups with wriggly worms
leave then there
by your dinky
mossy dells.

All the pricky hogs
come from near and nearer,
to snuff and gobble
by the brittle briery
and eat their wormy mush.

Our mucky paws clap
in gay and giggly glee
to see that munchy feast,
their piddly
licky
muzzles
chomping -
quite charming.

Adults say, 'we will catch a flea'
from their pin pointy pelts.
yet we shrug
our never minds, and
our don't cares,

even bring
one tiddly tyke home,
smuggling it up the stairs
to coddle
while we playtime
with some jolly good
fun....


Premium Member The Butterfly


As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew  
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun showers she appears as if on cue
 
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue 
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous marvel, she is beauty true on true 

I'm in awe of such natural beauty, her wings resemble church stained glass
I've been captivated by the butterflies lifecycle ever since I was a lass

An egg hatches into a wriggly caterpillar, which munches foliage but that's fine
it transforms into a chrysalis, emerging as a butterfly in the sky and looks divine!
Form: Couplet

Summer

The buzz of a bee over electric flowers of yellow and red 
one little wriggly worm drop and all the baby birds are fed 
green trees releasing oxygen oh ! the power of one sapling 
Blossoms of beauty crowning my front porch, I will sing of, 
the valor of summer and all of its charm 
the valor of summer on my little farm 
The fresh air that clings to my breath like fresh linen 
and that white cotton dress that says I'm all woman  
Sunday services and apple pie,  old wood benches painted blue 
butterflies flitting about, decked in every color and hue 
children's laughter sale craft treasures its all beyond measure 
inside this farmhouse I retain every past treasure 
the valor of one summer mostly remembered
the valor of one kiss that never dismembered
from this aging mind of mine.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Litlle Rhymes Nursery 5

There was a girl, her name was Ann,
She was a crazy soccer fan.
To her all players were the same
Until one team would lose the game.
For losers Annie kept her cheers,
For them she cried her biggest tears.

There was a boy, his name was Sam,
He loved to dip his hands in jam.
He'd stick his fingers in a jar
All the way deep, all the way far.
By the time he licked them all
He didn’t feel like jam at all.

There was a boy, his name was Shawn,
All he did at school was yarn.
He'd give the class a funny look,
Then put his head right on his book,
And thinking very, very deep
Shawn would fall very fast asleep.

There was a boy, his name was Nick,
He knew the world’s most magic trick.
Let’s say you saw him in a store,
And then he’s standing at your door.
He looks the same and you look puzzled -
The trick is that is Nick's twin brother.

There was a boy, his name was Josh,
He loved to squish, he loved to squash.
He went outside right after storm
To squeeze a wriggly jiggly worm.
There was one thing he wouldn’t squish -
That is a jolly jellyfish.

There was a boy, his name was Taylor,
He dreamed to be a fearless sailor.
He dreamed to find a treasure island,
And bring his mom a lot of diamonds.
There was one problem to this dream -
The Taylor-Sailor couldn’t swim.

There was a boy, his name was Steve,
Nothing and no one he believed.
He thought that no one told the truth,
Including mom and TV news.
Not what he saw, not what he heard,
He didn’t trust his own word.

There was a girl, her name was Kate,
She always had been very late.
Late for her school, late for karate,
Even for her birthday party.
There was one thing she liked, she said -
She always made it late to bed.

 There was a girl, her name was Mary,
 She dreamt to be a magic fairy.
 She wished for things that she could do,
 She wished for wishes to come true,
 She got a wand with sparkly flowers, 
 One thing was missing - MAGIC POWERS!! 

April 19, 2021
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Slang Men’s Names in Footles- Part 6

He’s always So Behind

Hasten,
Mason

Heavenly Guy

Sky glow
Milo

A Great Guy

Maxwell
acts swell

Sure Not Dickie Nixon

Tricky
Micky

Spoiled Guy

Bratty
Mattie

Why We Follow

Moses
Shows us

Such a Cheerful Fellow

Jaunty
Monty

Hope he Doesn’t want Kids

Sterile
Merrill

The Stoic

Spartan
Martin

He Keeps Them in the Family

Newel’s
Jewels

The King’s Favorite

Jester
Nestor

He’s Just so Tall

Shorten
Norton

Almost got Left off the Ark

Noah’s
Boas

I Have . . .

Faith in
Nathan

The Shrewd One

Heady
Neddy

The guy in Charge

Foreman
Norman

Never Sits Still

Goin’
Owen

Stuck at Home

Snowed in
Odin

A Nobody

Zero
Nero

Put Him on a Diet

Fatty
Paddy

Give Him a Shave Please

Hairy
Parry

Never Finished Med School

Nursie
Percy

Kind of a Loafer

Restin’
Preson

Mr. Popular

Tweeter
Peter

His Magic

Patrick’s
Hat Tricks

Worm Man

Wriggly
Quiggly
men
Form: Footle

Premium Member Desperadas

Sometimes some lost and lonely housewife I know well and knew put glossy
lip stick on and subtle pastel shade mascara plucked his brows and shaved
the pits of desperation the dust and grime the secretive desire longing
He cleaned the oven layered peeled the onion emerged in mouth watering
cheese cakes mixed the sweet and sour chilly icing with fresh fromage 
fermenting homage to a new beginning of transition from the desperation

Not my cup of tea the make up with tattoos the belly ring and 
hairy monsters on his pectoral and deltoid muscles but the pastry
pasted shaken not so pious pies tasted passionate the scent of musky
mushroom vanilla cinnamon the whole cliché of home made cooking 
steaks for power sweet desert aphrodisiac temptations for the palate 
palace coup palladium palliating plights of unforeseen façade and masquerade

Defeating gender stereotypes and prejudice his wife left broom cuisine 
and cruising hoovers steely wool to his resolve and elbow grease but the 
good partner who she was helped with the dishes when the dishy romance
ceased to be when both of them were desperate shattered broken devastated 
wives and house mates 

Their Pandora’s box the can of wriggly worms once opened left his bosom swell
his skin and features soften the pheromones transform their scent aroma
tone and meter of their conversation pitched up once the vocal chords strung higher
and he cut the naval chord which boxed him for so long in a body of a stranger

My friend and desperate house wife Paul is Paula now and she lives with her girl
another gender convert and is not incarcerated not desperate any longer she is free
Her ex-wife Ruby lives with Rosa now transcending yet another artificial boundary in rapturous coming of time and liberation and I love them dearly just the same 


19th June 2016

Written for contest: Desperate Housewife

Sponsor Poet Destroyer A

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace