Long Allen Poems
Long Allen Poems. Below are the most popular long Allen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Allen poems by poem length and keyword.
Ich bin der Hund im Schoß deiner Lügen,
liege am Boden eines falschen Bettes,
deine Decke, Schicksal´s seidenes Tuch,
mein Blick glaubt immer noch and dich,
unter deinem Kleid liegen meine Wunder,
welche die Augen von all den Gestern
müde werden ließen.
Meine Nerven vereist, wie unter Eis verschlossen,
wenn ich einbreche, spüre ich die Kälte in Scherben vorbeiziehen,
so sinke ich in dich,
als Wunsch, der nicht zu ändern ist,
warum ist erst am Boden die Liebe zu sehen,
die allen Tauchern die Luft nimmt,
das bleibt als Mysterium,
wohl in uns bestehen.
Ach, ich wünsch´ nur eins,
das Seelen, Gottes Jugend wären,
auch wenn ich weiss, dass es so nicht ist,
so wünsch´ ich´s mir,
denn so wär´ mir alles wohl erklärt
she came from Carlow, wee caitlin girl
one of three sisters gave you a twirl
ancient bridge, river Barrow
she was long, very narrow
still glimpse her glance where wild waters swirl
legend of Dublin lived all alone
yes, you guessed, it's our Molly Malone
Howth to Dun Laoghaire
she hobbled home weary
heaving her wheel-barrow, skin and bone
bareback beauty from Kildare of course
the equine county, she rode a horse
the Curragh and Church of Oak
Hill of Allen, she met a bloke
fell from her mount far into the gorse
wee ossory cat from Kilkenny
he lived in a castle with many
his marbles were off the grid
on festival floors they slid
lost them all, he couldn't find any
sad lad from Laois, brains short of an ounce
escaped from prison hard to pronounce
nailed tight down inside a crate
trickling blood betrayed his fate
men with batons were ready to pounce
canny Longford Lil made you quiver
banjo playing by Camlin River
laid-back lady, bluegrass hair
fortress town and country fair
tickled and plucked she did deliver
this talkative halyon hailed from Louth
he robbed two banks then headed down south
stopped at Dundalk to have a drink
garda grabbed him in a blink
that Drogheda gaol did shut his mouth
Meath mini minx, curious and slim
from Navan or Kells or was it Trim?
crawled into a passage-grave
all by herself, very brave
one leg out, you can still see her limb!
tall Tullamore youth from Offaly
he played around so awfully
he zoomed right in on Zara
next kissed his cousin Clara
then cuddled Brosna unlawfully
Westmeath chancer in boot of his car
some hooch for the folk of Mullingar
for Athlone, fancier grog
illegal still from the bog
smooth smiling man who smoked a cigar
wretched banshee on the Wexford beach
collecting pebbles within her reach
the sea then stole her ardour
he left from Rosslare harbour
lifting her eyes she started to screech!
wild Wicklow wag went out to play
the Arklow shoreline and on to Bray
Sugarloaf, Lugnaquilla
Glendalough, wee tequila
back to Greystones, he's had a good day
P S ITS POETRY WRITE ON WRITE ON CONGRATS TO MY FELLOW POETRY SOUPERS PART 10
Many thanks to you selected poets;
Of sharing your whispers from God, tho you didn’t know it;
Each letters and each word; Reads so very dear and well; Joys of your souls cheers; Covenants of choice, reading your voice; Blessing peace be still; Please keep writing your skills; Rhyming verses blessings of course it’s… P.S. Congrats and thank-U my fellow Soupers
• Igor Goldkind 448
• Ilene Bauer 197, 264
• Ingrid Lehman 158
• Irma Hole 50, 6
• Ivina Michelle 418
• J.D. Cromwell 204
• James E. Tate 460
• James Edward Allen 344, 433, 437
• James Fraser 28, 30, 73
• James Study 280, 337
• Jane Humphries 310
• Janice Canerdy 137, 259
• Janice Thompson 382, 404, 404
• Janine Lever 237, 350, 441
• Janis Medders Thompson 190, 308
• JC Brul 150, 55
• Jeanine Marie Cronin 273, 274
• Jeanne McGee 148, 251, 255
• Jeanni Thrasher 315
• Jeannie Flinn Furlong 351, 375, 452
• Jeff W. Watson 346, 388
• Jenish Somadas 202, 226, 66
• Jennifer Cahill 295, 363
• Jennifer Proxenos 31, 67, 70
• Jennifer Soeder 305
• Jeremy Proehl 298, 39, 459
12/13/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
It was a bus of ghouls
And it was speeding through painted lines
Pumpkinhead raised a brow and scoffed
As the bus passed me by.
I wondered where they were headed
I figured they were in route to pick up a friend
Or maybe they were going to Walmart
To pick up old lazy bones and some decor
For the den.
As I arrived for work
Everything appeared fine
The sovereign winds ghosted throughout the building
Maybe it was a sign.
At the meeting
Liz confirmed it was true.
"Steve, your working with Matt in dairy…"
I pouted "man, what did I do!"
Everything seemed laxed
Till about ten-forty-five
That's when I heard Patrick
"Guys, there's a bus full of ghouls,
And it's parked right outside!"
Eyore was the first to the door,
He was first in.
"Password sir," Jane said as she raised her shin
"Marikit.." the hutchback snarled
As others formed a line.
"OK, you can pass…"
She said with vinegar in her eyes.
Brianna came from apparel
When she heard Frankenstein's loud moan
Her eyes bugged out of her head
As the monster left her alone.
Mummy came in
Arms extended out
"No more social distance.."
Bryan said as his arms flopped to his sides
Like dead trout.
Destiny came from cosmetics
When she saw Dracula begin to fuss
"I know art very well;
I'll take care of that smudge…"
Edgar Allen poe
And his famous raven appeared next
Pearla peaked out from infants
"What the heck…"
Last to join the party
A five-hundred year old zombie;
He was just looking for some fun
Bryan told Matt and Alton,
"Entertain them guys,
I'm going to get my gun."
"Brains!" The zombie said
Danilo didn't miss a beat
"Nothing here,
You might want to try across the street"
Some praise the work of Rumi
They declare him the poetry king
But his deep philosophical lines really are not my thing
William Shakespeare the Bard of Avon
I find that his work is so boring
And his use of archaic language has THIS poet snoring
Others rate the work of Edgar Allen Poe
Who is famous for writing the Raven
I find his work depressing, it’s great humour that I’m cravin
So when I pop onto Poetry soup
For a minute or perhaps an hour
And need some witty poetry… I head over to read Ilene Bauer
A SOMEWHAT TONGUE IN CHEEK LOOK AT POETRY ... EXCEPT THE FINAL STANZA WHICH IS TRUE AS I HAVE LOVED ILENE'S WORK EVER SINCE I JOINED SOUP
10/18/20
rainy season
grief, white hydrangeas
hungry caterpillar
In part, The Haiku Society of America’s definition of a haiku reads, “Usually a haiku in English is written in three unrhymed lines of seventeen or fewer syllables.” Further, Japanese scholar Shigehisa Kuriyama states, “The 5-7-5 pattern by itself does not make a haiku.” (Gurga, p. 1). Contemporary English language haiku have departed radically from the 5-7-5 convention, including the Beat haiku of Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and Gary Snyder, the latter awarded the Masaoka Shiki International Haiku Grand Prize in 2004. The haiku of Robert Spiess are especially experimental.
I recommend two sources for further study of haiku: “Haiku: A Poet’s Guide,” by Lee Gurga, addresses haiku in it’s traditional form; “Haiku Poetics in Twentieth-Century Avant-Garde Poetry,” by Jeffery Johnson discusses haiku as realized by modernist poets.
Speaking personally, it is most important for me to enjoy writing a haiku, correct form or not, and for my haiku to be enjoyed by the reader.
So I had an Edgar Allen Poe moment. Was just thinking of all the people I have ever coached through their problems and what was told to me. For some reason it all came into my head and I just converted it to poetry. It's a bit graphic so keep an open mind.
Thoughts In Our Minds
Wishing dept away at the snap of 2 fingers, why do these worrying thoughts decide to stay in my Mind and linger? I take a drink from the bottle to numb the pain away or light 1 up to prevent going clinically insane, Jesus Crist why do these thoughts cloud my Brain?
I Crave for your smile I miss your tender caress I miss the passionate bliss why arent we having Sex ? Where did Things go so wrong ? Oh how I wish Things get back to normal like the days when we first met. Is it too late what does our Emotions now Reflect ?
Negativity please be gone far from me, I just want to be a normal Human Being living happy and at Peace. Lord I mean not to use your Name in vein, yet for some reason Satan has a way of implementing his ways. Is there a Heavan or Hell I don't know, I just want to Live Life and grow Old.
What is my Purpous why am I here ? Sometimes I just want to jump off the worlds tallest Pier. Why does my Mind get full of different fears ? This is my Corner here I shall kneel Crying my Eyes out Screeming WHY WHY WHY AM I HERE ? ™©
Shawn Munoz.
'twas in a room in Blandford, on a bright spring day
When a voice within my head a whispering, whispering to my dismay
For the voice grew from a whisper , and it would not go away
The voice was dry and eerie, Like demons from the days of yore
So I was emboldened and challenged, what want est from me thou this day
And the voice replied sadistically, I'm here to take you away
Now you have read of the raven, from the pen of Edgar Allen Poe
And i'm a relative of the raven, and our lord wants you to know
That poets like you, increase the spirit of mere mortal men
So i'm here to maybe frighten, even more to stop you writing
And to even stop thee from creating hero's, like the poets from days of yore
If to stop thee I must kill thee, then I am willing for its a dead I have accomplished before
As the evil voice was cackling, my mind aghast was flapping
Wondering if today would be my last, and if I was bound for Hades shore
Then a voice so soft and tender, cried out spirit I demand your surrender
And I looked and saw a hero, straight from Thermopalies blood red shore
Stood with shining sword and shield, it was a warrior from Spartan lore
and the voice in my head quietened, and I knew I was safe for sure
Safety is but an illusion, in a world of hurt and pain
Sometimes the only victory, is for the sun to oust the rain
But 'im aware deep in my heart of hearts, that the rain will come again
So I must be like the sun, bold unshackled and free
So that when the rain returns I may be unwavering, and burn it away
And maybe ill be free for life eternal, like bold Homer in Dauntes tale of yore
Here comes the novice poet.
With [ Edna St. Vincent Millay and Elizabeth Barret Browning ]
He will remember what they say, and then will always Know it.
[ “ I will permit my memory to recall “ ][ “ How do I love Thee “]
I do believe, from here to death; You’ll never see me Frowning.
In step the “ BRONTE “ sisters; Charlotte, Emily, and Anne.
Come back from their Imaginary Land.
Speaking English; Not the language that they shared.
[“ To attack the first is not to assail the last “ ] As if they cared.
I see [ Alfred Lord Tennyson ] will he sign my copy of “ The Poet “
Over there is [ Edgar Allen Poe ] and his Raven “Nevermore”
Exhilaration ends: I wake up, no one will ever know it.
I spent the night, a LOVEFILLED night: With many a Great POET.
Now that I’ve comeback from time, I have no words I have no Rhyme.
The paper, not a drop of ink. It looks at me with a BLANK STARE.
But now I do Bethink, that I should write something THERE.
I just can’t write and think.
When jay Townsend Johnson Henry
climbed in my windiw searching
for my American poetry sending
chills down my spine author star
Parker was parked awaited this
impersonator my poetry wasn't as
grand as Robert frost or even
Edgar Allen poe I was broken
disabled mother retired nursery
school teacher from Germany I
enjoy folklore poetry with my children
I adored writing I certainly wasn't
highly educated I attended a school
for journalism as a child in Chicago
writing was my passion my grammer
was way off miss spelling words but my
poetry was mine and she was obsessed
with my poetry my life hence my dearh
nevertheless my imposter grew
enraged fearing my safety after I
contacted the fbi the attorney general
office she crawled away like a spineless
crab leaving dirty sand mites in her wake
as she gathered killers and dealers
to murder me end my life for my
American poetry I still cringe at the
behest of the full knowledge of this
sheer hardship i survived her threats
assassination attempts while she would
finally dummy up to dumb down
fascinating to say the least my prayers
remain for the soul of this person of
such envy hatred and cruelty for me
cruelty for a disabled American poet
I thank god for saving me from my killers