Long Alex Poems
Long Alex Poems. Below are the most popular long Alex by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Alex poems by poem length and keyword.
I SIT HERE & PONDER HOW VERY MUCH I'D LIKE 2 TALK 2 U TODAY & EVERYDAY.
THERE R SO MANY THINGS THAT WE DIDN'T GET 2 SAY
I KNOW HOW MUCH U CARED 4 ME & HOW MUCH I CARED 4 U.
EACH TIME I THINK OF U, I KNOW U MISS ME TOO.
AN ANGEL CAME & TOOK U BY THE HAND & SAID
"UR PLACE IS READY IN HEAVEN"
U HAD 2 LEAVE BEHIND ALL THOSE U LOVED....
U HAD SO MUCH 2 LIVE FOR, UR 3 GRANDSONS Alex ETHAN & ROBBIE.. THEY WERE UR EVERYTHING, THEY MISS THEIR GRAMMY SO MUCH.
IT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE THAT GOD HAS TAKEN U.
THOUGH UR LIFE WITH US HAS PAST, HEAVEN IS UR NEW HOME,
WHERE U NO LONGER SUFFER IN PAIN.
EVEN THOUGH UR UP ABOVE,
WE R NEVER FAR APART
EVERY TIME I THINK OF U MOM UR RIGHT HERE, DEEP WITHIN MY HEART.. TILL WE MEET AGAIN, I'LL SEE YOU LATER..MY TEARS FALL EVERYDAY..
LOVE ALWAYS UR DAUGHTER
MISSY
Since early childhood storybooks of armored knights
riding beautiful horses held my fascination,
had I lived in that era of adventurous delights
I would have joined them to get the same admiration.
It's the unknown the story of a knight
who met a peasant girl of ardent creed
in some unpleasant times of war and fright;
it's such a great story for us to read.
Alex de Roux was the Norman commander:
handsome and strong; his curly long hair was red,
his eyes were of soft blue, and his skin was fair
he was sent to Abella to conquer its land.
And riding on his white horse one afternoon
he spotted a beautiful girl picking apples,
she had the features that made a soldier swoon:
big green eyes, long black hair and supple red lips.
Alex said something in Frankish expecting a response,
Silva looked at him and bowed if he were a seraphim,
" No, I am a very humble knight, not a king, please rise! "
She did not quite understand the language, but obeyed him.
He pointed out to the stately castle on the distant hill,
" Look, that's my second home, I have built a sturdy fortress."
some profound words he spoke expressing his benevolent will,
" I like to marry you soon and have ten children or less."
Silva tried to catch the meaning of every sentence,
and Alex replied by stretching out his two wide palms,
counting each single finger with extreme confidence...
then approaching her, he got lost in those pretty eyes.
Written on 4/23/2016
I'm sick at home
With very little to do
So I put on the T.V.
To see what's new.
Judge Mathis is on
Followed by Judge Joe,
Then the lovely Judge Marilyn,
She's my favourite, you know.
Other people's troubles
Are so often funny.
The silly things they sue for
To get a little money.
Afternoon television
Is really a joke.
It's judge shows or soaps
Or those Jerry Springer folk.
So after Mathis and Joe
And Marilyn. who's great,
There's the hunky Judge Alex
And then it's a date
With the Queen of them all,
That would be Judge Judy.
She'll rip them to shrieds
If they act at all moody.
After a week of being sick
There's one thing I know,
If I need to sue someone
It won't be on a show.
The Alex Joneses among us
As we are coming up to Christmas, which is a feast
for the advertisers, and it is impossible turning
or switching on the radio or TV without getting an earful of sentimental songs flung at morning tired
adults before the first cup of coffee
PS. There was a time when one could write: a cup of coffee and a cigarette, we are glad tobacco is no longer
in our mind and body. Here someone is clearing throats
but find it best not to comment
A right-wing Christian and conspiracy theorist has been
allowed into Tweeter, X, and this has made the official
Press into a knot of outrage.
Elon Musk has done us a service by letting his Twitter be
a place for the burning questions to be aired.
Yes, at the same place where the perfectly awful
vulgarian and bigoted interviewer, Piers Morgan, spews
his opinions, for many who see him as a spokesperson
for despicable lies and shallow thinking
He is tolerated and has many fans among those who do
not reflect upon his utterings.
As for Alex Jones, a famous radio host, who has a theory of so many things and many of his views involve Jews, a group of people who hold American Politicians in a fateful grip of corruption and the weaponizing of
the Holocaust and in its holy name, special privileges
In Europe, Alex Jones is not well known I think he is
seen as an outspoken Billy Graham, a man I once saw
in the late fifties, preaching under a circus tent to
thousands of applauding Norwegians, many of whom thought he looked like Wild West Cowboy.
The good thing about an outlet like Twitter it gives
those with views contrary to the officials have a place
to air their opinions, without being branded a ban
Greeting Angels
Caylee, are you listening?
I just wanted you to know
that we prayed that you’d get justice
but I guess it won’t be so.
And I wondered if you met Tesslynn
when you reached that heavenly shore
and was little Lattie waiting?
Lord there are so many more.
Noah, John, Luke and Paul
and little sister Mary Yates,
Adam, Amy, Nixmary and Amber;
only God could know their fates.
JonBenet’ and Riley Ann,
way too soon these children died.
Polly, Kelsey and Jessica;
oh Lord the tears I’ve cried.
Samantha, Austin and Justin,
Terrance, Erica and Lily too,
Liam, Cyrus and Javan,
Michael and Alex to name a few.
Caylee were they waiting
with the angels by their side?
And did Jesus hold you close
when you realized that you had died?
So many innocent children
abused and beaten and all alone.
Lord why didn’t anyone stop them,
hadn’t anybody known?
Lord help us to help the children,
help us to hear their cries,
before one more child is tortured,
before one more angel dies…
Once had a cat Whose Name Was
By
J.A. Long
I once had a cat named Gingerbread
He never saw red
Until his final days
I once had a cat named Sue
I regrated my mistake
But he never said boo
I once had a cat whose name Buck
He used to think he was a watch dog
But never got mistaken for a duck
Until the day he was sadly lost
I once had a cat whose name was Meg
She never even tried to beg
Once had a cat named Alex
Someone might have thought
He created the phone
Once had a cat named Chico
He had a temper
But he was quick to repent
Even though we did not have a tent
I once had a cat named Vaness
She was so sweet that she
Could have been a Contessa
Once had a cat named Melissa
She was a little a playful
And she always wore a tux
Once had a cat named Carly
She did not like barley
But she did occasionally sing
Even on weekends
I once had a cat named Renee
She was sweet and vocal
Thank God she was not a Wren
She gave me some advice before passing away
Oh, I miss them all!
2026.01.26 Australia day public holiday.
I woke up early and made up my mind
To give this new piano a try.
Train to Blackburn, and bus 765 to Forest Hill shopping centre.
Up to second floor, right behind the escalator,
There stood on the light tiles floor,
An elegant white baby grand piano,
"ALEX STEINBACH" engraved in the middle panel.
First thing come to my mind was
To check out the sound of each key,
Before wiping them clean to play.
I was amazed how beautiful the sound it made.
The long travelling trip paid off,
Comfortably I played out my favourite songs.
One by one, shopgoers passed by
Sat down at the seats and clapped
At the end of each music played.
Two Asian ladies stopped and chatted,
Eventually, one of them tipped me generously.
One elderly man told me,
He was asked by the management,
To play and collect donations for the centre.
I then expressed how exhausted to come here,
How busy I was during week days.
I think I would come on weekend during winter.
For the love of this perfectly tuned piano.
I would describe this enjoyment,
Like having a white chocolate Magnum,
Compare to others like icypole,
Which one may find in RMIT and MCC.
On 2026.01.17, Seven Creek Euroa, I was there to play the Yamaha,
The restaurant was quite cosy,
The piano was very dusty,
The sound was too loud and out of tune.
I thought I would not be back any sooner.
Then my pray was answered,
I found this German baby grand piano,
I have been obsessed by its appearance
As well as it music ensemble.
I was like, once in a while,
Having white chocilate Magnum ice cream,
I thought that would be nice even in a dream.
Pensile clouds of a new Truth loom.
With them are selected versions of
Extinct grief.
Looking through the yellowness of a
Dog’s eyes, this aura of Truth, pervasive,
Sours my palate.
What say the bulletins and tabloids
In their speech potency?
Have they recoiled on the sudden encroachment
Of stale seas
Or have they rolled out drums for Haley’s ROOTS?
Between Kamby Bolongo of watery essence
And the forested, warm plains of Juffure, ROOTS!
And drums fashion themselves out for Kinte,
Who must tap gently the face of the drum
For earthly summons.
From sinuous, valleysome frontiers backward,
We yodel loud,
Fronting bands of ROOTS.
Gorgeous Charlotte was the goddess of illegal sex,
no restrictions applied to her naughty affections;
I met her last December at the Platinum Dolls...
she drove everybody crazy, even policeman Alex!
Here's the question they asked me frequently,
" Why do young girls prefer mature gentlemen? "
Is that because they are generous, not stingy? "
I noticed one of them brought in his oldest son!
Charlotte was a run-away and hung out with tattooed trolls,
on most nights she looked for customers in the darkest halls;
and without a plan for tomorrow, she trusted her distorted belief...
Fentanyl took her worthless life leaving her parents tons of grief!
What satisfied Charlotte completely was a large sum of money,
it certainly tamed the hungry beast dwelling inside her instantly;
and selling her body to the elite gave her access to deadly Fentanyl...
she binged on a bottle of Vodka daily, her outlook on life was cynical!
Ah, Charlotte...I could have saved you from a tragic death not anticipated,
so little sleep and Fentanyl took you to the shallow grave of the disgraced;
ah, Charlotte...you decided to live shamelessly: living it up and caring less,
and laying in a coffin colder than stone, I whisper, " Charlotte, feel my caress!"
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Wm. J. Atfield Jr. [email protected] March 27th, 2020, 4:52 PM
Poetry Soupers, who have or are following me.
My gratitude goes out to you !!!
Johnson Coulibaly Neethu Sivaraj Adiyoli Alex Anonymous Phil Capitano Ann Foster Margaret Franceschini Line Gauthier Heather Hans Okonkwo Ifeanyichukwu Stephen Mayne Claudie Modley Kishan sharma Mark Woods
I want to thank all you Poets, who have taken the time.
Whom have, from your busy lives, read my efforts at rhyme.
I have come to the end of a journey ???, as interests began to wane
and nothing seems to garner inspiration, there is nothing to gain
by continuing down this path I have traversed for twenty eight years,
expressing pain, passion, love, understanding and heartache full of tears.
B. J. “A ” 2
March 27th, 2020,
Caves
Old, single, alone, life can be like living in a dark, damp cave.
A voice reminisces, echoing off the stone walls what one gave.
Throwing it back at one, all that one once knew, to be true.
Memories, moments, experiences once lived, now are few.
This library is in decay, nothing much left to do or to say.
One realizes, as the sun is setting, it’s soon to be the last day.
With this coronavirus, {{ COVID-19 }} circling this planet.
For the vulnerable, “ it’s soon to be the last day.” if they get
caught up in its talons, its claws tearing at the tissue of each lung.
A dirge for this world, and humanity, a dirge for years, will be sung.
B. J. “A ” 2
March 27th, 2020,