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Long Song Poems | Long Song Poetry

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

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

Tarana-Ta Na Na Dhoom - My New Carol Song with English Text lines



TARANA - CAROL SINGING- OR PLEASURE SINGING

Tarana- Ta Na Na Dhoom -  My New Hindi Song with English Text lines

Form- Lyrics

TARANA – A BRIEF INTRODUCTION

Tarana singing is the outcome of those wonderful feelings of heart, 
which burst from the lips of the singer unknowingly. Tarana comes 
on the lips when the heart is in the swinging mood and the feelings 
of joy and pleasure began to come out in the form of meaningless 
and sometimes meaningful words almost in a similar manner 
in all the languages of the world.

Tarana is an Indian musical form in classical music. It has been the 
most popular form sung all over India. The form often with meaningless 
words has attracted not only the vocalists, but the dancers of kathak* 
and bharatnatyam* of both north and south India respectively. The 
monophonic syllables sung in fast tempo has made it enjoyable from 
a learned to a lay man.

I have placed in my Tarana Song Video (on You Tube), some of my 
Photos  with Hindi Song lines in Roman English as well as its English 
 Text lines to show the mood of the Song, which resembles the 
Photos shown in the Video. I am hopeful that this new experimental 
song even without music would give a new horizon to use this form of 
singing for our English Music lovers.

Critical impressions from my music lover Poetry Soup friends about the 
Tarana form of singing and Video is requested and it would be highly 
appreciated. With best wishes

URL OF TARANA SONG ON MY YOU TUBE CHANNEL

In order to really know and appreciate this form of Singing please use
the URL placed below of my Music channel on You Tube "RavindraKK1"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IrGvXAlC3w

Ravindra K Kapoor

*A classical form of India




TARANA SONG 


Ta Na Na Dhoom                                   01     Tarana 

Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom   	
Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom                       02      Tarana 


Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom   
Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom                        03      Tarana 
  

Dhoom Dhoom Ta Na Na 
Dhoom Dhoom Ta Na Na                       04       Tarana 



Uproar is all over the world                   05      English

Dhoom Machi Hai Sagre Jag Mein          05      Hindi



The melody which you are searching 
Is the melody on your lips                     06     English

Dhoond Raha Jise, Dhun Ye Wahi Hai    06     Hindi



Ta Na Na Dhoom 
Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom Dhoom           07    Tarana

Ta Na Na Dhoom  
Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom                       08    Tarana  

            
  
See what a Magic it is                           09     English

Dhekho To Ye Hai Kaisa Karisma           09    Hindi



Your Melody                                          10     English

Dhun  Teri                                             10     Hindi


Is standing just before you                  11     English

Tere Samne Hi Khadi Hai                      11     Hindi


Uproar is all over the world                  12     English

Dhoom Machi Hai Sagre Jg Main           12     Hindi


The melody which you are searching
Is the melody on your lips                    13     English

Dhoond Raha Jise Dhun Ye Wahi Hai    13     Hindi



The Melody which you could not find
Even in Ages                                         14     English

Yug Beete Jise Dhoond Na Paya           14     Hindi



Is standing before you 
To woo you                                           15    English
   
Aaj Wahi Tujhe, Waran Khadi Hai         15     Hindi



Ta Na Na Dhoom
Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom                       16     Tarana

Ta Na Na Dhoom                                   17     Tarana



Uproar is all over the world                  18     English

Dhoom Machi Hai       
Sagre Jg Main                                       18     Hindi



The melody which you are searching
Is the melody on your lips                    19     English

Dhoond Raha Jise 
Dhun Ye Wahi Hai                                 19     Hindi



See what a                                           20      English

Dhekho To Kaisi                                    20      Hindi



New Dawn is spreading its wings         21      English

Subah Jagi Hai                                      21       Hindi



Smile is blooming on every lips              22      English
     
Adharon Pe Muskaan Khilee Hai            22      Hindi



The melody which you are searching
Is the melody on your lips                      23        English

Dhoond Raha Jise Dhun Ye Wahi Hai      23        Hindi



Ta Na Na Dhoom 
Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom
Dhoom Ta Na Na Dhoom                         24        Tarana  


Ravindra
Kanpur  India 14th June 2014   



Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2014


Long poem by Silent One | Details |

From darkness to stardom

Every child is born into this world crying,
Little did this poor child know, tears would fall for the rest of her life.
Born into a world of abuse, heartache and pain,
With a drug addict, alcoholic abusive father and a heartless mother.
Every day was the same, left alone with only silence and darkness,
Dirty clothes, little to eat with every cry for help resulting in violence.
How could her eyes see any happiness when they had run dry?
How could she smile with cut lips and a bruised body?
At 7, her mother died from a lethal overdose of alcohol and drugs,
However, the abuse got worse as she became her father’s new toy.
Poor little girl, an object of carnal gratification and her innocence stolen,
By a man who was responsible for her protection and well being.
The effects of a dark and destructive childhood destroyed her confidence,
With low self esteem and no social skills, they mocked her in school.
Little did they know about the struggles in her life and the pain she was going through,
Bruised and abused, having to make her own lunch with no help from a pathetic father,
This was her daily routine- even hell would have been a more peaceful place for her.
But, little did the world know the girl had a hidden talent,
The voice of an angel and the mind of a creative poet.
At night when she sang, the stars glowed to her beautiful lullaby,
The ink of her pen was like blood rushing from her veins to create magical lyrics.
Music and poetry was her escape from a life of cruelty and rejection,
Her talent was hidden, so no one could help her reach her potential.
As the girl grew, her abuse never stopped, there seemed no end,
With constant memories of painful yesterdays and a childhood lost.

She used her incessant pains and struggles to enhance her music,
Writing hours upon hours of poetry and songs, self-teaching brilliance…
Deep inside she yearned for someone to understand her, to see her…
If not, but one, she would be wholly satisfied

Many nights she would find herself crying uncontrollably, 
The darkness of the room enveloping her every being
She could see the past in her mind’s eye and be reminded of the sick present
She began to hate her father, and every brat at her school
She cursed death and life alike, and envied her mother’s eternal sleep
Everyone who spat their insult, everyone who remained silent and apathetic,
She hated them with a passion so self-destructive, it burned her raw scars...
Teaching herself to hold it in, so that on paper she could create masterpieces
And prove all of the monsters around her wrong…
In silence, she recalled the worst memories to shame further her reality.
A part of her knew that she was incredibly talented,
Though the darkness often blinded her with guilt
She felt that she did not deserve even a voice,
Her writings were but a sick reminder of demons she could never conquer
Shivering in the cold, her skin dirty and dry,
Ugly…ugly…was the only word she could live by

One night, she contemplated taking her life…
She vowed all of her suffering would meet a greater purpose,
Beyond the grave…beyond fear of hell beneath
She was dirt after all, like the kids always told her
How much worse could it be, facing the flames she was born in?
She threw the kitchen knife down and looked up at the stars above
Even Death would reject her, she knew…
In acceptance, she acknowledged her ugliness and became a stunning underdog
Rebellion sifted through her veins and her strength brought fear to her father
Bullies looked at her as if she was the devil himself
No one could tell her what to do any more,
And nobody would ever understand her
Though that was okay…
Because that is all she ever knew

Ten years later, the rotten roller coaster continued
Though a fateful night of circumstance had led her right on the stage
Men were mesmerized by her fierceness and apathy
Not being able to grasp each significant line layered in truth
She showed none mercy as she slayed ruthless chords of wonder
Her voice rang angelically, mixed with the fires and tears of her life
Echoing beyond the grave of cold Death… beyond what was wrong or right
It was her silence that stunned the audience the most
Those eyes, having seen so much…felt so much…hid so much…
That cut mouth, with the eternal dry trickle of a bitter tear
The world was not prepared for her intolerable genius,
Just as she was not prepared for their astonished applause..

A collaboration between Laura Breidenthal and the Silent One.
7 August 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015


Long poem by Poet M.e. | Details |

Kind Of Blue For Miles Davis

Kind Of Blue (For Miles Davis)
Woodlawn Cemetery, Bronx Ny 1991


Before they could lower Miles 
into the damp dark ground
Two of the PALL BEARERS
Thought they heard musical sounds

Before the Preacher could say
Turn your Bibles
To Acts, The preacher paused
After he read Deuteronomy
He looked back

But there was nothing there

But deep under the sepulchers
Six feet below the sand
The Spirits realized it was jus’ 
ColTrane and Gillespie
Warmin’ up the band


And a hundred corpses started
Creeping' out those coffins
Sayin', We don’t get parties round here often

And those Trom Bones started rattling
Those Trom Bones rattled
Like they were audition for Ezekial
Like they were auditioning for Ezekiel
And MILES was ready for his musical sequel

And MILES said
Is everyone here dead??
And they said, Do we look Dead?
And started snapping their fingers
And bobbling their heads


And they started to sing 
and shimmy and sway 
In A Silent Way

And Miles asked the dancing Dead Man
Where am I?
How long do we get to play?
He said, We ain't got long, Son
The Shovels are on the way
The shovels are always on the way

And Miles crawled  out of that casket
To a vertical stand
And Tommy put a horn in his hand

Miles stood on the tallest tombstome
And he played like a Boogey Man
He played like a Boogey Man
And then Mingus appeared, saying
 Is there any more room in the band?

And Miles put his wrinkled Black lips on that horn
And embraced it like it like it was a breast
And he felt like  he was a Newborn
And he felt music deep in his chest

And he played like there was no tomorrow
Because there wasn’t one
He hesitated
And they said, It’s alright Son

And he played Vibrato 
And he played E Flat 
And he played C Sharp
And it sounded sweeter
Then Caesars harp

Then Miles looked sad eyed
And thought back to 1945
Shooting heroin with Bird
recalling those sad words:
“Hey Miles”
“Yeah Bird”
This is the only shit kind enough to kill you
And show up at your funeral too.”
And Miles said, 
Yeah it’s Bitches Brew
It’s a Bitches Brew

He laughed, Crazy of  Ol’ Coleman
To tell me to stay away from you

And that heroin went down
Their veins
Like a Macy’s  escalator
Then they went back up to their brains
like an elevator
And Bird was dead ten years later

And Miles went back even further in his mind
1944 East Saint Louis when he met Billy Eckstine
He pressed Play, fast forward and rewind
Then he thought about Webster and Navarro
And he was filled with sorrow


Miles cried as he cleared his throat
But He saved
The Sweetest note
for Alton, Illinois
Where he played as a boy
And was his mother’s joy

“I think God himself made the piano, Son
Now the Devil made the trumpet
A day later tryna show God off…
She faded with words real soft


That thought was interrupted.
Miles, We gotta hurry
They comin’ with the shovels
They told Miles not to worry

And those Spirits knew the party
Was coming to an end
And Miles played one last note
To the sun to the moon and to the wind

HE PLAYED THOSE

I-Aint-Done-Gettin-Down-Blues

Those What  If-heaven-
Doesn’t-have-a-fifty-second-street
Just-give-me-one-more-minute-Blues

And then he brought  to an end
 That syncopated tune

Someone whispered, We know

It always ends too soon.
It always ends too soon


And the music stopped playin'
And they confiscated those horns
Like a New York pawn shop
And that party came to a stop

And every ghost went back to his tomb

And Mingus said, Hey Miles
Remember how we used to think those
White Juilliard kids 
Would never know our names

And Miles cried with refrain

Goodbye Miles
I have to get back to Bangladesh.
You try to stay out of trouble  
And then they saw  the shovels

The very next morning
The Undertaker
saw a Brass pipe on the ground
Where it came from he didn’t have a clue
Only the Corpses  knew

But if he had looked up, 
Miles and MILES up into the sky
He would have noticed
The more Ominous clue
The Sky wasn’t white
Or Opaque or even Grey

It was was Kind of  Blue

Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2016


Long poem by Russell Banks | Details |

Vanity

'Vanity's got this new gun that she wants to try on you'
A gift of lyrics a Dead, Poetic fan of fiction sketched to me
why the worried expression, he's right here in this chair
staring at his palms happily
he formulated, forged, formed this sublime work of art
a mere variation of a world he thought he knew
'I knew she was beautiful, she should've had this'
by that I had no recollection of who or what he meant
but in the very center of his iris
I could come to terms that he was in some far away venue
his whereabouts, undoubtedly a chiller
like he was admiring a vision he couldn't share
'So Vanity's got this new gun that she wants to try on you'
to my dismay as if I knew the answer or was just taken aback
I had to inquire, just had to ask 
'what is this weapon she has for me? '
'does she want me deceased or does she simply want to destroy me? '
He looked up instantly, astonishingly he expression bore ruthless
like I merely on a whim, stood up with swift reaction
took his arm, and broke it behind his back
smashing his delicate, rounded face into the coffee table
He looked up instantly, looking pained
until he let out the most childish, animated laugh
like he heard the funniest joke in all of human history
'No, no, no.' He said with a grin of sadness
'She has no weapon nor malice, it's just a trick of the hand
or rather I say the head
she has no intent of destruction nor robbing another being
of their reason to live or reason to breathe
Vanity is just Vanity...
if only you knew how she was, knew her struggles
knew what I know...you'd...understand...'
In haste, I should've seen the next plan of action coming
backwards in time, I step through the mirror to see
if I really truly did see it coming
or maybe I was too caught up in Vanity
to realize where this deviation of interview was coming next
Short-sided and ill-advised, I couldn't resist
I had to, a must, it was nagging at the back of my head
Simpleminded, I couldn't grasp the concept 
unless I knew the answer to this stinging question: 
'What don't I understand? '
And it was then he stood, simultaneously I had to breathe out
I've been holding in a breath for so long
I...he stood over the fire place
lighting a match over the flames, but his hands
his hands they were fading, as his smile reappeared
He said....
'Vanity, she was my daughter. 
Vanity, she was my daughter...
Vanity, she never existed, but she did leave me a gift...'
The flames were spreading, the flames were coming for me
eating my clothing, eating me
but I just had to know
'What did gift did she leave you? '
A frightened look of horror spreads from my face
as I see my hands burning, my flesh turning to cinders
my knees getting weak as I'm eye to eye with flames
my vision is blurry but I can still see the tears fall from him..
His suit on the ground, his presence is gone 
but I still hear him say calmly: 
'From a ghost to a ghost
Vanity lives coast to coast
she's my daughter, my hero
but in truth, she's an idea that convicts your heroes
turns them into zeros
Vanity's got this new gun that she wants to try on you
but that gun isn't a weapon, isn't harmful
that gun is you, a mirror or two 
a lesson for you
if you love yourself too much
sadly you are doomed...'

Copyright © Russell Banks | Year Posted 2016


Long poem by Ndaba Sibanda | Details |

Pledge of love and loyalty

This pledge that l,Ntando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed l am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only lie
in word alone but in action as well.

For that reason in every season
I shall show steadfast commitment
to the implementation of this pledge
with a great deal of astuteness.
I therefore commit myself to be your
devoted and delivering husband for
all the years l shall live with you
on this earth.

I shall treat you with the love and care
you deserve as my wife.
Indeed l shall treat you with
the distinction and dignity
that is befitting of the queen of my heart.
That body, that bone, that breath
shall be my mine to treasure,
for sure;
a dearness to promote and protect
for dear life…and love!
I shall stand by and with you in all the
situations of our life.
If the situation demands that we sail,
sail we shall together.
If the situation demands that we
climb,
climb we shall together.

I know very well what l am getting into:
I am getting into a marriage that is
overflowing with blessings.
This marriage- with our mutual
commitment-
will stand the test of time.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
brims over with a transforming power
of love.

This marriage-with our
mutual commitment –
will transform naivety into maturity
troubles into challenges
pretence into practice
pride into progress
bachelorship into companionship.
I pledge to be your steward and partner
for all times.

I shall value the consultations
and decisions that we make as
husband and wife.
As head of the family I shall do nothing

 

to derail our love train for anything else
least of all for personal and selfish reasons.
Now and forever

I am your lawful and loving husband…
This pledge that l, Nothando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed I am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only
lie in pronouncements but in practice
as well.

For this reason every season
I shall demonstrate untiring love
and loyalty to you;
a love and a loyalty that is a living
embodiment of our marriage vows.
I therefore commit myself to be your
honouring, supportive and loving wife
for all the years l shall live with you.
I shall treat you with the love and care
that you deserve as my husband.
Indeed I shall treat you with
the dignity and nobility that is befitting
of the king of my heart.
On my mind it is always fresh
that I am the flesh of your flesh.
Green or grown

I am the bone of your bone.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
elevates me into a kingdom of wifehood.
I shall endevour to put my family first
with all the rights, obligations
and privileges that come with wifehood.
I shall endevour to wipe off and ward off
loneliness and lostness from our relationship,
seeking nothing but your companionship;
banking on your stewardship,
sinking together any hardship.
Since you are mine
I shall not do anything else to undermine
our relationship for personal
or egotistical
reasons.
Now and forever
I am your lawful and loving wife…

Copyright © Ndaba Sibanda | Year Posted 2012


Long poem by Brian Johnston | Details |

Damn Girl - A Song

Chorus 1:

Damn girl,
If you need some grease,
Why can't you just
Squeak a little,
Squeak a little? (1)

Take time,
Let the voices cease,
Your life adjust,
Breathe a little,
Breathe a little! 



Squeaky wheel will always get the grease they say,
Never has to wait until the end of day,
Somehow there are people who can never learn,
World just doesn’t stop while you await your turn.

Chorus 2:

Damn girl
If you need some grease
Vanity disgrace
And squeak a little.
Squeak a little,

Take time
Till the voices cease
Give yourself some space
And breathe a little
Breathe a little


 
Cannot find your voice, afraid to lose your cool,
Lessons they forgot somehow to teach in school.	
‘Trying hard’ it seems is never good enough	,
‘Doing’ is what shows folks that you’ve got the stuff.

Chorus 3:

Damn girl
If you need some grease
Let that be alright
Why not squeak a little.
Squeak a little,

Take time
Till the voices cease
And you see some light
Why not breathe a little
Breathe a little 



If you don’t have answers well it’s just poor you
Sitting in your chair when all the dancing‘s through,
Sure ‘nough little girl a lottery’s your chance,
Only way in Hell that you will get to France.

Chorus 4:

Damn girl
If you need some grease
Why can’t you just
Squeak a little.
Squeak a little,

Take time
Till the voices cease
Don’t you go bust
Breathe a little
Breathe a little 



Inner adult free now and can be quite wild,
Baby-sitter dead now for your inner child,
Grand prize may not be the way you want to go,
Happiest are people just content to show….(2)

Chorus 5:

Damn girl
If you need some grease
Let that be OK
And squeak a little.
Squeak a little,

Take time
Till the voices cease
Sample life’s bouquet
And breathe a little
Breathe a little


Brian Johnston
Sept. 6, 2014

Poet's Notes: 
Got the idea for the chorus of this song while listening to Country Music in a bar in Blunt, SD. My country music loving bartender/waitress liked the 'squeaky wheel' idea so I went home and wrote the song.

Brian Johnston
Sept. 6, 2014

Poet's Notes: 
(1)	‘a squeaky wheel gets the grease’ – means that when a wheel on a car or bicycle starts to get noisy (squeaky) the owner knows that its bearing is dry and needs lubrication so he takes care of this problem right away.  The human parallel for the rest of us is that when you need something from someone, we should not assume that they will see your problem and fix it right away. It is much better to tell them about the problem yourself (squeak a little) so that the problem is addressed more quickly.

(2)	 ‘show’ – means to do well, get a blue ribbon perhaps for excellence, but not be the best. Those who have to be the best at something, frequently let other things in their lives slide, i.e., they go for ‘flash’ and not for ‘quality of life.’
I got the idea for the chorus of this song while listening to Country Music in a bar in Blunt, SD. My country music loving bartender/waitress liked the 'squeaky wheel' idea so I went home and wrote the song.

Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2014


Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

My Christmas Songs


My Christmas Songs Christmas Songs for all my PS Friends with Best Wishes for a Merry Christmas. Christmas Song I love to hear the Music When it comes From the Ringing Bells When the bells began to show Their sounds To call, everyone From far and near the Church To celebrate the The joys of Xmas Which comes only Once in a year. 01 When the Bells ooze these sounds To remind All the God worshipers That love and kindness Is the essence of life Without hatred and difference For anyone. 02 I love to hear the Music When it comes From the Ringing Bells When the Christmas is celebrated With all the beauty of hearts And with all its pomp and shows In every Church around the world In the lovely month of December. 03 Spring Song I also love to hear the Music When it comes From the Ringing Bells During the spring time Every year. 04 Oh what a beauty and joy It is To walk on the green grassland Hearing the sweet sounds Coming From the close by ringing Bells. 05 When the spring is In its bloom I love to hear these sounds Reaching in my ears While moving bare footed And singing A sweet lovely Song In the air Wile moving on the soft stretch Of a grass land Which are vanishing rapidly From the Earth. 06 For me these moments are Very special As I always feel like singing While hearing The sounds coming From all the ringing bells. 07 The sound of these Sweet bells Create waves of thrills and joys More in my mind and heart, Whenever I move On any piece of grassland And hear such sounds coming From the Bells Ringing in the close by. 08 Autumn Song I also love to hear The Music when it comes From The small brooks and streams And from the falling, running and rolling Of all the dry leaves When the winds try to push them So that They may fly one more time With the fast blowing winds Before they get perished for ever In the season of autumn. 09 Such sounds creates a longing In my heart Whenever any bell rings Or the dry leaves fall And run on the ground With the fast blowing wind. 10 I want to walk and run with The fast blowing winds To hear that lovely Music Which says to everyone While spreading its sound in the air The life is too short to waste it Without love and brotherhood for all We are born only To light the lamp Of kindness and love for all Not only for the human beings But For all the blessings of God Which exits in every particle Of Nature In dead or in living form. 11 Ravindra K Kapoor Kanpur India 24th Dec. 2015 Protected Under the copyright provisions of Poetry Soup. Copying this Song or producing it for any commercial purposes or presenting it in any other name of form is strictly prohibited and would be subject to legal action at Kanpur India. Ravindra K Kapoor

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2015


Long poem by Charles Clive | Details |

Sweet Little Marigold

She was a dairymaid, oh so sweet; many a year ago. Her figure was trim, her hair was neat, with ringlets tied up in a bow. And many a farmer would leave his plough, the turkeys and chickens, and even the sow, to stand and stare, a-mopping his brow, and watch her a-milking go! For, they love little Marigold, sweet little Marigold, answer to every man’s dream. They all start a-swooning, when she gets a-spooning out dollops of thick clotted cream! Now Harry had horses, a harrow and cart; many a year ago. Yet nobody managed to capture his heart, but many a girl had a go! Until the poor fellow, early in May, when resting, awhile, from stacking the hay; he saw her pass by, ‘twas late in the day. She set all his passions aglow! For, he loved little Marigold, sweet little Marigold, answer to every man’s dream. And Harry got swooning, when she started spooning out dollops of thick clotted cream. Now Danny was dapper, a bit of a lad; many a year ago. He’d brag and he’d boast, of ladies he’d had, in rain and the sun and the snow. This elegant card, when down in the yard, was feeding the goats and taken off guard, he fell for her charms; it hit him quite hard. She set all his passions aglow! For, he loved little Marigold, sweet little Marigold, answer to every man’s dream. And Danny got swooning when she started spooning out dollops of thick clotted cream. Poor Percy, the poacher, was lonely and sad; many a year ago. The Landlord’s fat pheasants, he frequently had; but never a lass did he know. One day he was pulling a hare from the trap, when smitten quite hard, a right thunderclap, her dazzling smile befuddled the chap. She set all his passions aglow! For, he loved little Marigold sweet little Marigold, answer to every man’s dream. And Percy got swooning when she started -spooning out dollops of thick clotted cream. Sir Walter was wealthy. His furrows were long; many a year ago. ‘Twas brandy he loved. He drank it quite strong, in pub after pub he would go. He wasn’t too happy, he had to admit, to give it all up and totally quit, in case his performance should suffer, a bit, when passion was all set aglow! For he loved little Marigold, sweet little Marigold, Answer to every man’s dream. Sir Walter got swooning when she started spooning out dollops of thick clotted cream. Young Bertie was batty and thick as a brick; many a year ago. He bumbled around, he wasn’t too quick; of ladies, he just didn’t know. When Marigold heard a sound that was slurred, it wasn’t a bird, nor sheep in a herd, much more like a grunt and less like a word, it set all her passions aglow! Now poor little Marigold, sweet little Marigold, Is mooching around in a dream. No longer a-spooning; at Bertie, she’s swooning. He doesn’t like thick clotted cream! ~
For Cyndi's 'Pub Song' Competition. Inspired by The Wurzles 'Ive got a brand new Combine Harvester'.

Copyright © Charles Clive | Year Posted 2013


Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

Swaggers Song





Swagger’s  Song 

This Free Verse was prepared by me on experimental basis to serve as a rustic Song. The free verse is yet to take the shape of a Song with Music and proper Singing. 

Placed on Poetry Soup for an evaluation by my PS Music loving friends.

Style inspiration from Poet Destroyer- Thank you for your silent inspiration dear friend PD.
Ravindra


Swagger’s  Song 

Hey Look 
You arrogant lady
Don’t move like a Cat
On my way.

I know 
How to bell a Cat
When she is crazy 
For a walk and talk
Like a clever politician.

Don't play a trick 
With me
By blinking your eyes
Dear lady
I know you are hungry
Like a tigress,
And would leave 
Nothing for me 
If I offer you 
Something to eat.

Still,  you want to keep me 
In a  world of illusions
Till the next prey falls
For you
In the season.

You are doing all this
So that 
I may not
Judge your moves
And intensions
And you may make
Your joyous attack
On my ways 
Whenever I move
To feel the 
Fresh air of the season.

But remember  
Hey 
You arrogant lady
Don’t move like a Cat
On my way.

I know 
How to bell a Cat
When she is crazy 
For a walk and talk
Like a claver politician. 

I know you are not
In your senses 
You have drained
The whole bottle 
Down your throat
Dear lady

And in a senseless 
State of drunkenness
You want to 
Walk and Talk 
Like a politician.

Don't play a trick 
With me
By blinking your eyes
Dear lady
I know you are hungry
Like a tigress
And would leave 
Nothing for me 
If I offer my food 
To you.

Still,  you want to keep me 
In a  world of illusions
Till the next prey falls
For you
In the season.

You are doing all this
So that 
I may not
Know your moves
And intensions
And you may make
Your joyous attack
On my ways 
Whenever I move
To feel the 
Fresh air of the season.

But remember  
Hey 
You arrogant lady
Don’t move like a Cat
On my way
I know 
How to bell a Cat
When she is crazy 
For a walk and talk
Like a claver politician. 

I know you are not
In your senses 
You have drained
The whole bottle 
Down your throat

And you are 
In a senseless 
Stage of drunkenness
Still you want to 
Walk and Talk 
Like a politician

Hey 
Look you arrogant lady
Don’t move like a Cat
On my way

I know 
How to bell a Cat
When she is crazy 
For a walk and talk
Like a claver politician

Don't play a trick 
With me,
By blinking your eyes
Dear lady
I know you are
Behaving 
Like a seasoned actor

But I also know 
That
You are completely drunk
And can’t take
Any meaningful decision.

I know 
How to bell a Cat
Dear lady
When she is crazy 
For a walk and talk
Like a claver politician.


Ravindra K Kapoor 

Currently at MP India 14th March 2015 

Protected under the Copyrights provisions of Poetry Soup

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2015


Long poem by Nina Mindova | Details |

Sea impression

                 
                 Wave a sea softened
                  and a pain and a tenderness
                   throw dreams in fascination
                   of the blue.
                   And let shave the waves of
                   Your eternity , oh, weigh
                    above me,
                    oh,weigh a  coast of years.
                    Carry far in azure, spiral
                    ships,
                    with bulging little abdomens,
                    flutter with mahagony pinions
                    and already in vain  expect you
                    to stop the scales harbours 
                    with hot flames for You are
                    open.
                    Far away, far away ,far away,
                    stretched string,
                    heart and frank await the 
                    hymn of June.
                    All sea sisters are dressed in
                    mother-of-pearl garment
                    embroidered of kiss of 
                    eternity. 
                    In the morning hunts them
                    fishermen and revive with
                    breath of their man’s hands.
                    In the evening girls wash 
                    their black tunics,
                    in their blue hearts,
                    their feet white ,who cadge
                    heavy chains.
                    The night is squeezed enigma
                    and ugly,
                    predatory like a bat pecking
                    of scarlet fig.
                    Sea sisters, sea sisters,
                    remember His steps 
                    which go through you noiselessly,
                  and ou swing like
                  bloody wine-
                 hold in His fingers Herod,
                 Pilate washes his hands,
                in Yours heirs
               and they bristled like winter
               icicles bristles of innoncent blood .
               There at Golgotha 
                hearing terrible cry,
                blood gushes like
               wounded river disappear
               like Easter roses,
              in weeds of flushed 
     preditory crowd,
     to open way of
     saving.
     Who is He?
     Do you heard 
     His name ?
     He is Messiah,
     God’s anoited
      Jesus Christ.
      Like little sheeps,
      clouds of candy floss,
      they welcome festivaly.
       Barefooted are feet 
      of lovely swarthy steps
     of the sun, came to bow,
      before You , Creator.
      The sea throws his 
       magnificent silver flesh,
      blue like heavently lace,
       to swallow all stars 
       only Bethlehem’s
      stays inextinguishable,
       pretty like uncreated
      like an apple of not 
      born girl.      

Copyright © Nina Mindova | Year Posted 2012


Long Poems