Long 911 Poems
Long 911 Poems. Below are the most popular long 911 by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long 911 poems by poem length and keyword.
When the wolf applied nicely
If he could come in,
The pigs replied thricely he shouldn't.
Then they scratched at the hairs
On their chinny chin chins,
And tightly bolted the door so he wouldn't.
But wolves, when out shopping,
Are not easily put off,
Even faced with the risks they are takin'.
This one ignored the wheezing,
And the nagging, rasping cough,
In his lust for ham, pork chops, and bacon.
First, he blew down the straw house,
Then the one made of sticks,
But by the third he was straining and grasping.
It was a veritable fortress
Of well-mortared bricks,
And emphysema left him panting and gasping.
With one last mournful howl,
The wolf knew he was done
And lay down in the driveway, embarrassed.
The pigs regained their composure
And called 911,
But when the cops came, the wolf claimed he was harassed.
The argument raged
For an hour or more
'til the cops gave them all a citation.
Still gasping for breath
As he slunk from the door,
The wolf was stopped by a squealed invitation.
"Wolfie, oh, Wolfie, please won't you come in?
We'd so like to have you for lunch."
And he would have gone on and ignored the appeal,
If he only knew that "ragout de loup" (pr. rah-goo duh loo)
Was the entrée, but he had no hunch,
And he was not one to pass up a free meal.
When a wolf's sick and hungry,
He might let down his guard
And do dumb things a wolf shouldn't ought to.
But for pigs, it's expedient
To get the final ingredient
Required for a tasty "wolf stew".
The wolf's huffing and puffing
Couldn't even come close
To the pigs' stratagems and devices.
After seven martinis,
It still hadn't dawned on the dope
That intelligence wasn't one of his vices.
If he'd had more brains than brawn,
This poor wolf might have known
That the pigs never meant to surrender.
They'd no more need to fear or hate him,
They knew the booze would marinate him,
So when they served him up and ate him,
He'd be quite succulent and tender.
If this tale has a moral, I'd like to propose
That "three heads are better than one" be selected.
In this case, not the one who worked the hardest,
But the ones who worked the smartest,
And as the little piggies guessed,
The wolf was the perfect luncheon guest.
Of course, their table manners weren't the best,
So they still made pigs of themselves, as expected.
I am scrolling down hill,
folding the pills,
elongating the tree's
and simplifying the breeze,
I am a song to be played-
earlier than you might say
in the day,
when hearing is a complaint
and danger is delayed,
but you are a spade,
to be wondered and craved,
you are your own way,
with the sing of the slave-
underground-
above the haze,
glazed with the betrayed,
honed in on like waves,
so stubborn your gay-
holding on to the page!
Don't you walk that way!
Troubled little weaver-
always weavin' in and out of the days,
with your face,
and two others that may show you the way.
So...Whenever there is game,
whenever you are just being insane,
two others can ring your ping-
scratch at your lawn,
ease your bickering fawn,
who is ages old-
cranky and yet cold,
shines like the rivers of silver soles,
wasted and bold.
...Blanketing and broad like the system of the slots,
put in a coin so you can jog-
with your eye's,
and with your pogs,
fall to the floor,
while dude ranchers await cry's out the doors,
become single and slower,
dangerous like snow blowers,
manned by cats
with fake joints hangin' in their lips crowin,'
as they are growin,' croppin,'
and sowing,
the stage is set to start goin,'
but you stay all knowin'-
with the people out there- asses a blowin'!
Like the sound of the tick was that on it-
like the leaper out of time was so subordinate,
you know you could have grabbed mine,
you know about other ways to shine,
but still you sit and grind-
sleep and unwind,
base your catches on other famous people's finds...
I don't confide,
I really don't try,
I just hear god and ask about the water in the sky,
why doesn't it come down on African pride?
When they need it most?
When we know 911 proved evil the most...
But sit here and boast
and you'll hear gods jokes-
he's got what a man needs,
he's got you underneath a sheet,
so don't breathe!
Just start running,
got the mustard?
Pray for a plead,
because random people leave
while friends try and greet,
an acre of land with animals and plants couldn't please,
even if they spoke the language, and cured the disease,
sorry if I sound meek-
but pride comes when I'm done writing these...
Traditionally for years, with honor, a library is built and named after them. More than just a personal story, but there 's a bigger story of America and how they helped to steer it, not as dictators, but as primary citizens and participators. With zeal and pride, they speak of and write about the America they led and helped to make, to shape, to rearrange or to change; or even allow it to remain the same.
Mr. Clinton(1992-2000) And now, a brief condensed summary of his 8 year Presidency: Fix the Balkans and Ethnic Cleansing; It's The Economy Stupid, Change the Economy; Compromise; Communicate; Newt Gingrich and the Contract With America; Balance the budget and Pay the debts with the surpluses; Osama bin Laden
***************************************************************
In my life time, I have witnessed the unfolding realization of those famous lines in the Declaration of Independence, referring to the right of the people to alter or to abolish their government and institute new ones. It seems that some presidents have truly been a catalyst for change. Some good; some bad.
***************************************************************Mr. Bush 2(2000-2008) And now, a brief condensed summary of his 8 year Presidency: Gentler and Kinder; Changer of the mentality about war; Friends, old and new ones. Who and where are they? My friend the enemy; Veto Hater; 911; Axis of Evil; Afghan Demand: Osama or the bomb; Iraq: Regime Change or War Pain; My Father drove you back and out of Kuwait; but I drove you out and brought you to justice. Born to be leaders and not followers, some Presidents bravely and gracefully led our country to new and better chapters. And yet, there were others who were weak as Presidents and better suited to remain as law makers or missionaries.
***************************************************************Mr. Obama(2008-2016) And now, a brief condensed version of his 8 year presidency: Win and spend; One thousand billion=One trillion; That's Trillion with a 'T'; Changer of the culture; Challenger of The Christian; We apologize; Rethink and Revise history; Change the meaning of marriage; Insure everybody; Organizer; Presidential Orders; and Open Boarders. 09222017 PS
It’s some place that used to be
Where all things would fall twixt—
A beat, battered, broken shell
Off old Route 66.
He rode a Silverado
That was a dusty gold,
His clothes were worn and ragged—
Their style was odd and old.
They watched him as he walked in
To Wally’s Waffle Place—
With silver spurs that jingled,
A hat that hid his face.
He strolled up to the counter
And placed two gold coins there—
“I’ll take a big heap,” he said,
“Of yer fine dinin’ fare.”
Well, he sat down on a stool—
Pulled makin’s from his vest—
“No smokin’!” growled the waitress,
“This here ain’t the Old West!”
Well, the stranger tipped back what
Looked like a cowboy hat
And then slowly rolled his smoke
And grinned just like a cat.
“I don’t mean no disrespect,
But this here’s open range—
Though I must of wandered off,
‘Cause you folks sure is strange.
“See, I had to leave my hawse
When he done pulled up lame—
Then found that hawseless carriage—
Got me here all the same.”
It’s some place that used to be
Where all things would fall twixt—
A beat, battered, broken shell
Off old Route 66.
“Seems some things has changed ‘round here—
They caught the James Gang, yet?
And how ‘bout Wild Bill Hickok?
He’s still real fast, I bet!
“And what ya hear of Custer
And all of his good friends?
Heard he’s clearin’ our country
Of all the Indians!
“Reckon I’m out of touch some—
Been ridin’ ‘round so long—
It feels like forever
And that now I don’t belong.”
The waitress stared – told the cook
To dial up 911—
She knew something was not right
With this old cowboy son.
“Now, we don’t want no trouble,”
She stated in soft words—
“But all I want is my grub,
‘Fore I rides to the herd.”
“Say, mister – you all right?” that
Waitress asked all concerned,
But then she saw his six gun—
“Well, now I’ll be goll-derned!”
Then that cowboy disappeared—
The Silverado gone—
With tire tracks toward the desert,
Lost in the purple dawn.
And so all the legends go—
But these are just the facts:
They say they found that old truck,
Then just a horse’s tracks.
So when you go to Wally’s—
If that’s what you must do—
You’ll find a deserted shack
Closed in 1992.
It’s some place that used to be
Where all things would fall twixt—
A beat, battered, broken shell
Off old Route 66.
A very touching version of Clement Moore's 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. A warm tribute to all dispatchers & police officers everywhere.
T’was the night before Christmas, and all throughout comm.
We sat at our consoles, expecting it calm
the Dispatchers with their headsets, the CAD in high gear.
I looked at my computer, and the phones waiting to hear.
I started my dinner, the microwave to ding,
of course at that time a 911 call did ring
An intruder was the call, per the person on the phone
My dinner was interrupted by the ole’ hot tone.
The address was given, and with a flash officers flew
their cars going code-3, Their lights red & blue
Stay on with the caller, We need more was their request,
Typical, telling us how to do our job, was our quiet jest
Now this being Christmas, Santa was hard at his job
He could never imagine, being accused of intent to rob
2 cookies from the plate, and milk from the glass
While giving out gifts, he didn’t expect any “sass”
He first heard the growl, and then the dog gave a bark
Everyone was out of the bed, quick as a lark
Santa heard them start to shuffle, and knew it had begun
When someone yelled I have a gun, and we’ve called 911.
Officers set up a perimeter, and a command post
They had a K-9 enroute, this suspect is toast.
The Dispatcher remained calm; kept the caller on the phone
Obtained a description of the man, let them know they weren’t alone
Dressed in red and white, his belt and boots all in black.
Santa said I will give you all coal, plus I’m taking your things back.
Officer’s then gave a code-4, just a man giving out toys
We figured with this shift it would be Taser deployed.
Our blood pressure came down, still maybe up 10
The family went back to bed, to sleep once again.
Santa said thanks to the officers, with their badges and guns,
He said a special thanks to those who calmly answered 911.
Thus I re-heated my dinner it was only 2 hours old
But working in dispatch, food is better eaten sometimes cold.
Santa flew over the comm. center, later that night
And we heard him yell out, as he flew out of sight.
Thank you for answering all of those 911 calls
Your pride and professionalism make Holidays Merry for all.
May you all have a safe and wonderful Christmas Holiday.
entering into the Sea of Words contest by Leighann Anderson 7/3/2011
Remembering...
I was 27 years old, and in my second year of working for my first real "grown
-up"
job. There is something powerful about wearing a pair of pressed matching scrubs, a
name tag addressed by first name only, and a stethoscope around the neck( a lot
heavier than the plastic one I was so accustomed to in my junior doctor kit.) I
thought I had the answer to any medical problem thrown my way...I was wrong.
In between bringing patients to their rooms, the receptionist, who is the spitting
image of Barbie, minus the plastic legs, informed me I had a phone call, and is very
important.
Being my first "personal" call at my job as a registered medical assistant, I
immediately had to remove my "work hat" and don my "me hat", something I tend to
lack some knowledge in.
My head overflowing with a thick fog, I try to navigate everything out before saying
the usual greeting, to no avail.
My sweaty palm takes hold of the receiver and a voice I barely recognize mouths the
appropriate greeting;
This is the phone call that would change my life forever...
I could sense through the black receiver plastered with a large "911" sticker, my
mom has been crying for quite sometime. Her trembling followed the same route I took home from work everyday after I left work and went
home. This is my safe haven, no one or nothing could harm me here. This is home
voice cracking the words of an accident.
With the word accident replaying over and over like a 33 vinyl record skipping at the
best part of the song, I hung up the phone.
I began to wipe the stream before it formed a puddle on the dirty blue carpet of the
doctors office.
Coworkers hands patting me on the shoulder, back, hand and arm, I was taking on the role of the patient, with not a clue of what to say or do.
I got in my beat-up white Mazda 210, not sure where the road would lead me. I followed the same route I took home from work everyday and went home. This is my safe haven, no one or nothing could harm me here. This is home sweet home, where
everything is so routine. I so longed for that right now. I pulled into the driveway, alone, scared, confused, and filled with the question of why .
I stumble to the front odor. to be continued....
Weep
When will you cry?
Will you cry when they kill all your dreams
or when the sun stops
setting? Or when you cannot have kids,
or when they cancel your wedding? Will it bring
you to tears when there's another 911
or you get a bill from your overseers that makes you
feel forlorn; Or when they whisper softly"
there's something wrong with your newborn" Then
will you cry? Will you cry when the poison from
the food kills your body’s natural
protection, and leaves you no longer immune?
That is around the corner waiting and will be
here soon; Doctors with
"C" averages, taking out your body parts;
Will you weep then? What
will make you cry, what does it take to make
you stand:
Misdiagnosis? You are not exempt.
Missing children or grandchildren, babies
without bottles, missing; Vacuuming pedophiles
body parts!
When will you get sick of this manure?
What will make you fight these horrors
back? It happens to Jill and It happens to Jack...
Perhaps you don't want to fight, perhaps
You think it only happens to blacks,
or browns, or poor whites; No, you don't want to
fight, you feel exempt;
But there's a tear out there waiting,
it has your fingerprint! So
keep on thinking it can’t happen to you
nothing can affect you, you have it all sorted
out, and life is not fair, but we are
breathing the same air!
So, if you think these
conditions will only affect others;
And you have your paper
money tucked safely in the
bank, you live in a different world....
so, you think! Again, I ask; What will make you
fight, what will make you cry,
When things come to the light...
when things to the light?
Your safety net has holes
in it, you are slipping
through the cracks, paper money is torn
worthless, dried up trees!
Life for others is not fair, your luck
is running scarred;
We are breathing the same air!
When the lights come on
There is nothing more to see, you
knock but can't get in;
Your names first on the list.
Your money was not that long; The
Kidney that you needed, went to one
who had much more!
Now you die from waiting, it is so
aspirating, the playing fields not even;
But now it is too late, you can no longer
wait.... So, you Die.... And so, you Die!
Ah be careful, so careful my friends
be careful before you go getting involved
Isn’t it strange how we sometimes get swept up
swept and sucked into a life event by sheer chance?
After attending to the baby, I glanced to my right
and spotted something in the median grass
Closer now, my stomach churning again
A young Latino man laying on his side
breathing fast and shallow, obviously in shock
coughing up blood with little clumps in it...
A biker and his girlfriend had stopped
We called out to him, ”You okay? Hey, you okay?”
(Yeah sure guys, just thought I'd catch a few winks)
The next person to stop was an off-duty ER nurse
(Stay here with him while I check on the others
and whatever you do, DON’T try to move him!)
”Oh sh-t! I forgot, has anyone called 911 yet?”
(I called, said a man in an orange jump suit)
Rush hour traffic was starting to back up on both sides
I would guess at least twenty minutes had passed...
The young highway patrolman was calm and relaxed
“Is an ambulance coming?” He nodded and pointed...
At least a half mile away we saw the flashing lights
but the median bank was too steep to drive down
(You two are going to have to help me with the traffic
Divert everyone out of the left, northbound lane)
Absolute chaos...
Some drivers got confused and stopped
The biker and I started waving and shouting
which of course, only made matters worse
One grouchy old fart laid on his horn and cussed
(We flipped him a sign that had little to do with peace)
45 minutes and counting...
The ambulance had to park on the shoulder
Two sweating, rather nervous looking ladies
rushed to the back and pulled out a stretcher
(Would you two gentleman mind giving us a hand?)
They immediately escorted us to the young man,
took out a weird contraption with a tube and a bulb
and inserted the tube end down his throat into his stomach
(Find something to put under his head while you pump!)
“You got anything on your bike?” (Uh-uh, don’t think so)
My wife’s blue denim jacket was laying in the back seat
“Sh-t! I’m gonna RUIN the damn thing! Oh well...”
We took turns pumping. I kept turning my head away
(You okay bro?) “Just a little queasy” (Yeah, me too...)
'Twas the night before Christmas and I still needed to buy gifts,
work was almost over, as I waited for the change of shifts.
I decided to take a drive over to Tiffany’s, where a girl can dream,
and admire the fancy diamond rings that sparkle and gleam.
I arrived at the store, it was a crowded and busy night.
I soon spotted my dream ring, oh, what a beautiful sight!
I asked if I could try it on my right-hand ring finger.
It was spectacular, and I left it on a moment to linger.
Suddenly, the store lights went out and it was all black,
and then I heard screaming and knew it was a heist attack.
Men with head lights and socks over their faces soon appeared.
I quickly escaped and ran out of the store, frightened and scared.
I called 911 as I flagged down a policeman down the street.
I was so out of breath and overwhelmed I could barely speak.
After reporting to the officer, I ran to my car and started to drive,
I arrived home and let out a sigh, so happy I made it out alive.
I sat on the couch trying to relax, looked down and saw the ring.
Oh my god, it was the expensive tiffany ring with all the bling!
I started to panic, it was not my intent to have stolen it from the store.
I was petrified I would be arrested and ruin my reputation or more.
I called the police to report I accidentally still had Tiffany’s store ring.
I explained that it was not my intent to steal any fancy store bling.
He said, "Tiffany’s manager was so grateful that someone quickly called,
the police were able to quickly intervene, and the jewelry heist was stalled."
The next day I drove over to the store, and felt so upset, I started to cry,
the manager gave me a hug, and said, "no worries ", as I let out a sigh.
He said," we have decided to give you a heroic gift for saving our store,
and said you can keep your beautiful ring as we owe you so much more!"
I decided to buy my family gift cards for Christmas this year,
and wanted a break from the stores as I was still reeling with fear.
I went to my Family’s Christmas party and as I entered through the door,
I heard gasps as they all ran over to see my new sparkling gift I adore!
Einstein Rolls the Dice
the paparazzi were all over Einstein
after he said make sure where the rope leads
before you kick over the chair
he wrote his own scripts now
Further Adventures in Archaeo-astronomy
tonight the constellation Vertigo
a place of no equilibrium
a hell of uterine contractions
even though his head was elfin
a little bone crushing ceremony
and you are out on bail
in an adorable subjective objective ruse
the beginning of a tale of envy and betrayal
you think science is pretty don't you
I didn't mean to hurt anyone went the 911 call
they finally brought him down with magnets
the meters were going purple
only minutes away from a fatal lap dance
that could blacken the portals of infinity
wizard artists awakened from a long sleep
out of the closet for the thousandth time
an army of derelict stockbrokers tried to stop them
but the obsidian blade plunged like a fang
and 73 virgin inflatable sex dolls
made obnoxious leaking air sounds
until all that was left was a talking skull
divulging sacrilege and anathema
flip the law of averages
and you are in the citadel
paradise being a system of payoffs
if existence has a face we're it
on the other side of the lens
the light is tricky in there
images fall feebly on the screen
but you can't have art without surprise
Al's life was now a gravitational anomaly
no plot no narrative no story
he was ready to sack a city
his Igor hissed let's asteroid the planet
but the mouse pad Ouija opened a channel
to the vortex of utter charm
and he stamped and splashed singing
through the sewers of humiliation
wearing his going to hell pants
with only a mother's love for protection
and thanks to the exponential growth rate
of his informative deformities
managed to lose all his pencils
somewhere between hand and ledger
unleashing pandemonium in all its ardor
being that his hands were missing fingers
most of them actually
lost in a departmental budget cut
left him all thumbs
it was a close shave but Earth was saved
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/