Best Largo Poems
Casablanca
Gone with the Wind
I've seen this movie before,
and I know how it ends
First we start off slow,
then become Best Friends
That's when the Love Story begins
We have ourselves a True Romance
which brings us skin to skin
And the way we are now
is The Way We Were then
Deja vu
Double Indemnity
We created the Perfect Storm,
our love has no Misery
You're my African Queen
and I'm your Lion King
We're on a Streetcar Named Desire
that feels like a Ring of Fire
Key Largo
Kate & Leopold
This love was Too Hot to Handle,
but we couldn't let it go
We found a way to hold on tight
because we were both Spellbound
Now it's A Wonderful Life,
our love is such a Phenomenon
Boomerang
The Baker Boys
Steel Magnolias
Sophie's Choice
These are just a few
of the movies I see
whenever I'm loving you,
and you're loving me
A Star is Born
A Place in the Sun
The Best Years of Our Lives
Strawberry Blonde
These are just a few
of the many movie scenes
that always let me know
what our love truly means
Braveheart
Moonstruck
Pillow Talk
Notorious
These are just a few
of the movies I see,
once I fell in love with you,
and you fell in love with me
Love Jones
Cleopatra
Wuthering Heights
It Happened One Night
These are just a few
of the many movie scenes
I always see you
when I'm looking at the screen
Casablanca
Gone with the Wind
I've seen this movie before,
and I love how it ends
Categories:
largo, love, relationship, romance,
Form:
Lyric
Shall our neighbor to the Great White North
become our fifty-first state?
To be proudly crowned their eleventh province might prove a better fate
Fresh air, clear lakes and grand vistas not to be beat
Maro-O-largo/Maple Leaf Hotel would make such a grand winter retreat
Call me a Tory turncoat if you must and I'll heartily agree
Oh Canada, my Canada, I'll stand on guard for thee!
Categories:
largo, irony, satire,
Form:
Rhyme
With pegs and pins in a bucket that’s full,
She hangs her music to dry,
Where it hums a tune majestically soft,
And it hums it up to the sky,
And the Lento and Largo sways in the breeze,
The Staccato hangs with the blues,
And the Accent hangs on the opposite side,
Hangs with its bright dancing shoes,
Every day she hangs her music to dry,
With a beautiful song in her mind,
Every day she hangs each note in the air,
Up on her musical line.
Categories:
largo, imagery, music, symbolism,
Form:
Personification
My bathroom isn’t big enough
For boxes filled with files,
Though someone’s bathroom we all know
Has cartons stacked in piles.
The government’s top secrets
Share a space, perhaps, with Charmin,
Or Renuzit, Dove or Lysol,
All incredibly alarmin.’
For the guests at Mar-a-Largo,
If a bathroom they were needing,
We must hope they didn’t poke around
In search of some light reading.
Categories:
largo, political,
Form:
Rhyme
Stopped at a mall on our way to the shore
Standing in an aisle in the men’s department
A woman approached, and asked
May I help you, sir
I replied, no thank you, just looking
When we arrived at the shore I could feel it
The longing for those times long past
A sailor, a pirate, A dreamer, a rogue
To sail again beyond the horizon
The sand of foreign shores between my toes
Harbor lights and a local pub, rowdy crowd
Scent of a dark-eyed woman, soft lips
Key Largo playing in the background
Outside the surf paying its own song
Standing there along the shore
With eyes closed tightly, I was just looking.
Categories:
largo, sealonging,
Form:
Narrative
Love's Symphonic Passion
by Odin Roark
Shimmering whispers urge forth,
A beginning seeks release from darkness,
The voicing of struggle proclaims arrival,
Like miniature cymbals of resolute announcement,
The humble cries of emergence
Clash ever so quiet with air and space,
Once portending grace,
Now its melodic genesis.
The matrixes of parent/conductor
Anxiously hum nursery rhymes
Through white enameled side-rails,
Vertical portals to unfettered ears,
Absorbing even when sleeping,
Evolving passion's invitation.
The precious first movements
Grow from those one-finger dissonant phrases,
Sometimes pounded upon the black and white landscape
Where an merging piccolo's infant smile
Finds support by paternal contra bass and maternal cello echoes.
Remembrances of tinkling melodies
Soon enjoin its pure and simple
With conflicted movements of trial and error,
Evolving the inevitable adagio of growing up.
Hence forth
The scherzo's innocence of adolescence
Crescendos into threatening measures,
Where layered tones of choices
present challenge,
chaos,
counterpoint to independence,
or sympatric harmony.
The family of voicing
Develop love's thematic material,
Rhythms,
Keys,
And more complex harmonies,
Creating the free fantasia,
A coalescing of passion's varied workouts.
Its strings worn thin,
Arriving at life's largo movement of peace,
That place of reflective consonance,
The weight of its chambered containment
Rests forth its closing bars,
Housing now but the waning echo of a baby's chorus.
Its shimmering whispers
Float upon one last wave of the baton,
Stirring life's ethereal essence
Into heroic chorus
A higher bonding…
Awaits.
Categories:
largo, love, music,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Yo Ho!, Yo Ho! The pirates life for me
The Jamaica Jewel’s sails are full on seven seas
Skull and bones flying high on the main mast
With a trim bow and keel my flag ship is fast
At both starboard and port, my canons thunder
heard from a distance, time to pillage and plunder
My boots and vest are leather black with buckles gold
When the sunlight reflects, landlubber’s blood runs cold
A gold and turtle shell handled sword slung to my hip
A stylish full brim black hat with a subtle dip
I dress all in black except a plume of vermillion
A chest full of treasure and pieces of eight by the million
Just the sound of my name sends shivers to timbers of all
I am Capitan Blood Head, on mermaid lips and ports-o-call
On sand and beach Capitan Blood Head wanted alive or dead
Where rivers become waterfalls posters for bounty is what’s read
So the legend lives on, from Key Largo, San Juan and St Kitts cay
From Trinidad and Tobago to Saint John and Montego Bay
Don’t you cross Capitan Blood Head and his Scallywags
And don’t even think about his favorite Sea hags
‘cause if you do, they will make you walk the plank
Down to Davy Jones Locker, blub, blub, blub you sank
YO HO!, YO HO! A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME
Warner Baxter for contest "Sketch a Character"
Categories:
largo, adventure, boat, character, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
Schneeglöckchen / Snowdrops / Campanillas de las nieves
Zaghaftes Weiß
Die ersten Schneeglöckchen
Nach langem Winter
Timid white
The first snowdrops appear
After a long winter
Tímido blanco
Las primeras campanillas
Después de largo invierno
Categories:
largo, nature
Form:
Haiku
AKA JEWFISH
I hooked a JEWFISH back in 67 near
Key Largo in a creek of the same name
stripping my gear she yawned and swam away
at 50 lbs she was a monster I wanted to tame
2011 I hooked him yes him again
she’s a he they change sex unknown to me
in 50 years he gained 450 lbs my
massive tackle yanked him up for a look see
I cut the leader as he broke the surface
illegal to boat him between you and me
an endangered specie since we first met but
something else transpired in his family tree
JEWFISH no longer correct since
GOLIATH GROUPER gained political sway
opening that cavernous mouth again
flicking his fins he lumbered away
only in the Keys could a creature age 50 yrs
gain 450 lbs change sex and given name
long after becoming an endangered specie
he’s still relevant and evidently in the game
Categories:
largo, nature, seachange,
Form:
Narrative
My heart is filled with such a longing
To be with those from my yesterdays
The days grow short, yet the nights are long
Sweet horns, play for me..and take me home.
Inspired by the ***** spiritual “ Going Home’.
There is some dispute about who wrote this piece ,
But it is based on Largo..from Antonin Dvorak’s
Symphony from the New World.
Categories:
largo, inspirational, music
Form:
Free verse
Can you listen up to my heart beat
Or is it the beats from that beat?
It's the radio,
Then it goes on gently
Yes, like a long thin snake
Where uuh, where huu!
Could be... couldn' t be
Could be my heart is beating like the radio,
Snake! Beat into bits,
Where huu o, where huuo,
I can float easily or deep in underwater
Like gold fish of the pacific,
Just like Titanic
It surges and lush gently,
Can i go and speed in a car
And feel the beat carry me higher?
Not me if i were you, not me
Should i...should n't i ?
Whether i am sleeping or playing
Work and awake,
Not me if i were you, not me
If i fall down i will stand up myself,
Just as if i am drunk with the beat
And dance like the Go go hit,
Go steady and slow so gently,
I have seen the bride dance perfidiously,
Take care buddy, take care
Have i...have n't i ?
No one is called we have come
Herself! Mixed and missed,
Take care buddy, take care
It dwindle...it dwindle and it dwindle,
Something or some one is sounding so blissfully,
It is sonic groovy,
And is off the wall hit
And it bade encore
All through the evening,
O! Michael, Michael's legendary is like Michaelangelo,
Singing and dancing all through like a yoyo,
It's that beat of bit of a change of face
Could made you lose your grace,
You have painted the face with colourful-colours,
Exposed to the brush and erase that smear on the nose,
You adjusted the thrilling lips off the *****,
And the eyes have they tune up to lustful glare,
The cheek o! so Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, that! cheeks
You were infamously infuriating,
So provocatively humanly bad
You were endearing to the last,
In toto, you were a king of the whirlwind,
In tete, you were the prince of applause,
And tata, you were the sire of controversy,
You were... the messiah of all possibility,
You were... the song personify,
The melody in the throat of a trumpeter,
And the soulful largo largesse of a crooner,
It dwindle...it dwindle...it dwindle...
Then sefini
Tata.
Categories:
largo, black-african amerdance, care, me,
Form:
Epitaph
Sunday Morning blues
RIO DE JANEIRO all nights or LAS VEGAS nightlife
After two-three glasses of Twisted Ice Lemon
Or was it an Alabama Slammer? You mustn’t trust!
My days and nights felt like a Freight train ride
And that no lie!
Then I remember the Cuban Bulldog who bite me
Three years ago, in Kissimmee; I think
which left me more than a little weak
in the knees those feisty drinks
Or was it that wicked, wacky Long Island Ice coffee
Which almost has done me in?
after watching a news clips of Momar Kadafi
or was it an episode of Friends
Luckily, for me I met my sweet Marlin Brando
And it was hallelujah and Amen in Key Largo
So many bartenders, so many smokes filled rooms
So, once again here I am nursing
Another Sunday mornings blues.
Categories:
largo, dedication, fantasy, love, on
Form:
Narrative
*** TOMORROWS ***
These thoughts begin composed
(“adagio ma non troppo”)
With a happy, a peaceful heart’s tempo,
Assured the nature of
Imminent or distant tomorrows,
Is woven in vibrant colors to allure
— Very like inspired verses,
With a soul’s knowing, a soul’s melody…
For even God,
The holy I AM
Kept His days —
His proceding creativity’s paced plan
…With its tomorrows held
Open for His any needed intervening
Powers and graces
(“allegro”)
Behold!
The days come. They come
Over horizons
We live and witness
(“allegro”)
……..Thence, too,
According to God
— By many miracles and through
His covenant concluding
The Great Flood….Showing
His promises in a rainbow’s arched reach
Across the sky…And,as in our time,
(“crescendo”)
A thousand ravens hover
And we imagine they wait to prey o’er each
Of our tomorrows, but they stay distant,
Unseen.
— For humanity, as time continues…
With its tempos’ flowing
Of rising sun by day and moon
By night…The dawns stir
Fully into tomorrows.
In Asia, “tempos” may mean,
“(brought or gone via) 3-legged carts,”
(“largo”)
Which might well define
My own aged years’ decline
As I greet
Tomorrows: with
Breath by faith…
And new days with actions of meaning.
————————————————————
Matthew 6:25 “…Is life not more than food. and the body more than clothing?”————————-
*** Written inspired to pen my annual Birthday Poem, as i age & i am more thankful, while much more challenged.
(c) sally young eslinger 1/5/2023
Thanks be to God…
Categories:
largo, christian, feelings, imagery, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
She was a 40 foot Bermuda-rigged sloop,
with linen sails a mahogany deck and
brass fittings; he took the east wind out
of Key Largo, as the dawn picked up the
spray and pitted his tanned face,
dolphins and flying fish, played with the hull,
trying to beat each other in a race to pierce
the blue brine: nothing was like this, and nothing
was like doing this, and a wry smile stretched the
flesh of his leathery face, now massaged by the
warm leeward-wind
the heat haze threw up mirrors at the hull sides,
mixing the dazzle of the ocean gaze with the press
of the impatient sea; it’s fecund smell and the glare
of the polished wooden deck, fired in to his senses,
mixing sounds, heat and water; a maelstrom of ocean
sense;
and then he and the boat, peeled off into the blue forest
of sea and sky,with a heading for Havana set.
Categories:
largo, adventure, beautiful, blue, boat,
Form:
Free verse
Gebrochene Worte,
im Zeitengestrüpp gefangen,
wie Gesang vergangener Tage
Zwischen den Zeilen liegt Hoffnung.
Der Glaube an die Zukunft
trägt herrliche Blüten
Ein Reigen im Mondlicht,
einsam wie verblassende Dämmerung
wirft keine Schatten
Kein Schweigen,
Stimmen hingestreut
im kühlen Morgentau
Worte verschwimmen
auf hellem Papier
wie Eintagsfliegen nach langem Flug
--------------------------------------------
Broken words,
caught in the undergrowth of time,
like songs of past days
Between the lines lies hope.
Faith in the future
carries marvelous blossoms
A round dance in the moonlight,
lonely like fading dusk
throws no shadows
No silence,
voices spread
in chilling morning dew
Words become blurred
on bright paper
like day flies after a long flight
---------------------------------------------
Palabras rotas,
agarrado en la maleza de tiempo,
como canciones de días pasados
Entre las líneas está la esperanza.
Fe en el futuro
lleva flores maravillosas
Un baile redondo en la luz de la luna,
solo como anochecer que se descolora
tira ningunas sombras
Ningún silencio,
las voces se extienden
en rocío de mañana glacial
Las palabras vienen difusos
en el papel brillante
como cachipollas después de un vuelo largo
Categories:
largo, philosophy
Form:
Verse