Long Yuck Poems
Long Yuck Poems. Below are the most popular long Yuck by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Yuck poems by poem length and keyword.
Nuttin boot mieskeit goyim...
lives among this nebbish atheist of Jewish ancestry
Tongue in cheek Yiddish
humor to playfully scold
often time sounds
like a compliment
yours truly, (a run
of the mill Shlimazel) behold
only knows a smidgen,
yet grew up within household
where foter and muter
kibitzing did unwittingly mold
their second born
and modest chutzpah
regarding only son undersold.
Though at times
he earned appellation schmuck
just ask the misses -
yea that yuck a puck
she will be more
than willing to chuck
kill with delight rattling
off with aplomb and pluck
I eagerly attest with
veracity that she blurts "ƒµ©*
you a$$hole," her
glib endearment -- yuck,
which does wonders
to spark romance
no surprise, yours truly
rather be struck
with self driving
smartass self driving motortruck.
Aforementioned language
used by Jews no longer lost
in central and eastern
Europe before Holocaust
originally German dialect
with words tossed
from Hebrew and several
modern languages jost
today spoken mainly
in US, Israel, and Russia.
More so acuity, affinity,
and avidity of late
growing interest doth
not seem to abate,
hence I could rattle
off voluminous spiel
megillah but best abbreviate,
otherwise which followers
might suddenly abominate,
thus this son mentsh chin hubble
meshugener wordsmith
best accommodate
preferred brevity lest
he doth accumulate
a slew of gentile enemies,
apt to annotate
unsolicited comments
their choice lingua franca
pointedly, happily, decisively,
and brazenly annunciate
and cheekily crow
kush meyn tukhes
in Macy's window.
Analogous to most
every previous poetic theme
I set low standards on par
with Bupkis, you probably deem
that comparison over the top,
hence please choose a meme
most apropos even extreme
expletive epithets or... dream
up fictitious, (albeit "fake")
that one day maybe come supreme.
I love mushrooms
with eyes peeping out
under their caps, their hats
I love broccoli
with curly green tops
Curly green hair
I love asparagus
with their long slender bodies
and pointy heads
and they don’t taste like grass
I love Brussel sprouts
Little bundles of joy
Bathing in buttery sauce
Lots of buttery sauce
I love carrot juice
Very orange
but they don’t taste like oranges
I love blueberries
in yogurt, cereal or cream
They go good with just about everything
even by themselves
One by one I pop them in my mouth
There’s no singing the blues with blueberries
Blueberries are absolutely my favorite
Not like all those I listed before
'cause I was fibbing
Don’t tell my Mom
‘cause I only like them a little bit
Or not at all
Yuck!
Gloriously "FAKE" Early Boyhood
Yah, ma brew their,
and American sister golden hair -
afar and away
book as aye ken ream hem bar,
yea when yar whiz jist a bay
bee, hun me
verily hoppy goo
loo key lil boy whar 'r each day
o'r flowed with giddiness oot nar the
secluded Harris estuary
frolicked amidst muscled shoals
gnome hatter sky turned
f'ty shades o' gray
hawk cool when
barf heat squished sand
hall lung pristine beach hooray
ah...those memories (hmm...oh...well)
wii ch war newt mine,
boot bar rowed fur room Jay
son and argonauts cave his Oh kay
seance ah waz tip poor
tuff ford me own may
mar ease, noon thee lass nay
var tha lease, aye fain tis eyes hub boat
hoof "FAKE" sea
yuck rat passageway
along tha loon lee coo west
hove yar hug quay
thee pass sea if 'ick Ou shin sum
moo with as ray
dee aunt gull lass oon lake now win me
daughter ring auld age aye
wharf heal moss elf ill eagle
red dee tug hoe bye
bye, cuz hive eel
emotionally frenzied, harried,
and jangled as if
o'er dost hay'n reedy to die
on barb bit char writs eye
lichen to a class five
Saffir-Simpson Hurricane, no...no...no...
methinks oh pen hee van
thar iz a big oop stares "guy"
seen 'm once, when we booth said "Hi"
aye whiz juiced up t'har - me no lie,
what, a stripling lad,
(thus jist man hedge gin my
flat hand outstretched wheel nigh
fin gars call loess tug getter try
tou pet yar palm awk
coo pull hove feet
fur him tha floor),
now (NOT FAKE) chalk
wii ch hide id hawk
daring ma prime er skool daze
didst slip smooth white
totally tubular woo din
lock (like) thin small
round joint long stalk
con vein y'ant lee a'signed
tuck clap 'race ears oot side den maze
wen axed bite t'eat char, me Noah talk!
“ Dare you get the spoon between me fingers,”
“I’m not opening for I hate the taste that lingers.”
“Custer oil”
“The last time you gave it to me I’d thought I’d die but my pants were soiled.”
“I’m the laughing stock at school,”
“It ran down my leg and left a smell pool.”
“Kids call me wheenie the runny pooh.”
“How could you mum?”
“Give me something that make me loose control of my bum.”
“You said what doesn’t kill will only make you fat for goodness sake!”
“At this rate I’ll be as skinny as a rake.”
“Not this time, it will leave a mental scar,”
“”UHHHH!!! MMMMM!!! Yuck!!! Ahhhh”
“That’s not fare!!!”
“MUM now I have to take a change of underwear
*The Road to Well Ville Contest*
There is a food I hate to eat,
I hate it in my mouth
it taste like slime in my mouth,
the nastiest food on earth!
Oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
the nastiest food on earth!
It has a flower on its top,
and grows in the garden dirt,
it looks like a small cylinder
upon a pretty plant stalk.
Oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
the nastiest food on earth!
Its slimy when it gets cooked,
and slimy when its baked,
it taste like yuck in my mouth
the yuckiest food on earth!
Oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
the nastiest food on earth!
Oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
the nastiest food on earth!
Don't yuck my yum
said trumpians to MotherTree.
Practice what you gospel loving preach
said MotherEarth embracing trumpians.
Economically yum my admittedly yucky anti-ecological reach
said trumpians to MotherEarth.
Ecologically practice the economic cooperative theology
you WinWin preach
said MotherTree to trumpian WinLose practitioners
of elite incorporated greed.
UltraViolet voices
speak in prime green laser light
yellow and red and blue bright
just right spectral balance
Hope releasing faith
Life on Earth can continue
without terrifying retributive costs
to grandchild generations
through restoring ecotherapies
massaging
purifying inhumane egos
of less than divine ultra-nonviolent intent
to merge,
at last,
hope of eternal sacred Truths
with timeless secular Beauty.
Don't compete against my cooperative yum
said impatient ultra-violet
to primal listening color.
Hi, my friends are size twos , I’m a fourteen
I can’t fit into their shoes, not even if I squeeze in
I blow my brain out in work outs
Spend my nights far off from refrigerator lights
Stock my dessert deserted cabinets with greens and fibres
And to morning oats at break of dawn,I make a solemn oath
To replace smiley pancakes with fruit salads
And have birthday cake decorated with low fat icing , hazelnuts and disgusting bread fruits, yuck!.
Skimming my way to a size thirteen
Slimming my way into a perfect black dress
But, what the hell?
Life is like a burning candle
Before the darkness overwhelms,
I’ll sit right across that cooling box and pick for myself a midnight snack
Cheers to that!, with a bar of chocolate
Sweet sweet sweet
It’s me, the chubby girl at size fifteen.
What a fella what a lovely fella happened their way
What a generous fella to kindly offer all these gifts and his services for free
He was of the mind to give them some of his grub
But he waited until it got rank and mouldy first
He then offered them a sip of his tea
But thought it best to spit in it first
He was generous with his backhanded compliments
never missed a beat in his dance of deceit
his two faced stance well maintained to entice the flies to his web
Bothered to put on a show to appear likeable and relatable too, what a gent
As he knit picked at their lives and put a spin on every word they uttered
he meant to gently pump them up for intel for reasons known only to himself
A mission that sadly bounced hard and flopped
For that last bit I blame who ever created the character of James Bond
Has the likes of him curtain twitching and meddling for dear life
Convinced every foreign woman wants to get their mits on them, I mean resounding yuck please!
His exotic fare he elaborately served on a bed of fake pleasantly, seasoned with a dash of bogus laughter
He seemed appalled that they could be handed a chance at anything at all
before he got to take at least ten more chances that he doesn't even need
God forbid anyone else aside from him gets any upliftment
Joy should start and end only with him and his kin
and compassion should only ever be pointed his way
He enjoys his loot only when others stay beneath him, and thrives when disparity amounts
There is a hole where this man's soul ought to be
And that's if it was ever there in the first place
Maybe all he ever had is this humongous gaping emptiness
that he has to fill at all odds because its eating him alive
It seems it can only ever be filled by him generously spreading misery and contempt
He tries to fill it with greed and a haughty demeanour
Little does he know it will never suffice
Somethings no amount of wealth can ever buy
Maybe he never got enough hugs as a child
I mean one might be born into abject poverty
but it never stops their parents from raising loving compassionate children, one hug at a time
Sometimes that's all a soul needs to thrive
What a fella, poor fella with a stone for a heart
and pockets weighed down by gold
Form:
Lower you say? No way!!!!!!
Sewer rats fare better
Politicians are the bottom
Of this poetic society
Yet for all their failings
We are protected
We are spoiled
Laziness is our new Idol
Oh let us sit on our chairs
Ranting poetic verse
Let us not lift a finger
Contributing to society, this must surely be a sin
Besides, if we endeavor to help?
Will they not label us politicians?
NO NO NO not that
Let me complain!!!!!!!!
He who complains is KING
Power corrupts!!!
This is true
The fools who don’t vote
Keep them there like glue
You too can be a politician
If you really care
To get off your azz
Go change the world, I dare you
Oh wait you shall see
Not so easy in that high moral chair
With all your critics climbing to demolish
Re-election is a love affair
Brave men and woman have died
So that you can have freedoms and the vote
Be ashamed if you are a critter on the couch
Of those fine men who died for your right
To do nothing
Yelping like dogs and complain, sure feels good
Politicians are people just like you, yuck!!!!!
Good and bad there is no doubt
When good men fail to speak out
Bad ones fill their shoes
So I say this to all
Stop your laziness……fools
For surely, the fool is the one
Who selects the king he does not want
Unless of course
He was busy with a nap and missed it all
If you are not a politician
Who are you?
I dare ask?
Notes: This sure is not meant to defend politicians, this is meant as a humorous write to show that not all things are so black and white. I certainly do no like the current state of affairs, but I do know this, not participating, not contributing, not helping to make things better, not getting involved, are not the answers. People died for our freedoms, and we have become to lazy to stand up for them. If you don’t like who is in Office, then by all means let’s make it you who is in Office. Many good politicians are saddened that when they get there, they have no support. Here is a happy thought, when you wake up each day ask yourself, “what can I do today, to make this world a better place” and it can be the smallest of details, all great things start with a seed!
Happy Days to all you Soupers!