Long Amateurs Poems
Long Amateurs Poems. Below are the most popular long Amateurs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Amateurs poems by poem length and keyword.
Valley of the kings
Romantic ideas
Word spread rapidly
Undiscovered tomb of a pharoah
World renown archeological teams
headed for Egypt
Amateurs, we stood in line for almost twenty-hours
before it was our
turn to take a look inside.
From the sunlight to the darkness, at first you go blind.
You hopefully catch yourself
As you find yourself falling over all of the stuff the servants
Felt the Pharoah would need in the afterlife
Toys, tools, everyday items, seeds, toiletries, decorative items
Vast amounts of lapis, and gold are glimpsed at corners where
generators are lighting lamps.
The air is stale, like a death march.
There is little light; but lots of angry shadows.
I lost my footing twice, tripping over an embossed box.
There were three sarcophagus,
In this unusual tomb.
A family disaster perhaps?
I could barely see in here.
I went back out,
and gulp-breathed
Gorgeous Egyptian air,
relieved I had not been grabbed
by a mummy.
Opulent indulgence amenities
generously upload green thumb senses.
Greenhouse cautions region known as frost tease.
A pastime cores, aloof clock condenses,
held their grounds by abductions amateurs,
urged escape slips scaling agrees to muse,
as petalled lips voiced beauty needs no words,
collision scope of heaven's choice of hues,
evaporates the softening of air,
in wakes of entertaining choirs of awe,
from an arrested audience who dare,
beauty bows to its mentor ... dainty paw.
A princess Stateside pleasures her duty,
"*Oui, the winner, American Beauty."
*Oui, French translated as, Yes, and pronounced as "we"
I think I'll open a tragedy club
where people can come to weep
I'll tell the saddest stories around
admission will be cheap
I'll call the venue Tragic Relief
where heartache is the norm
and "open mike night" amateurs
can mournfully perform
To be a standup tragedian
has been a lifelong dream
No longer caring to cry alone
I might even form a team
We'll bill ourselves as "Wailing & Tears"
and tour throughout the land
We'll have them bawling in the aisles
til they can hardly stand
They'll cry a mighty river
at our films from year to year
We'll throw in fresh cut onions
just to wring out every tear
Appearing at my club some time
to do a special show
the hottest new tragedians
will tell their tales of woe
No matter if your background is
from denim or fine silk
we'll gather round and cry all over
puddles of spilled milk
So take a break and come on down
and turn your joy to grief
Just keep your eyes peeled for the sign
that says Tragic Relief
He was a man who knew how to knock out another man.
Against amateurs, there was just no match for him.
4 years of tough man competitions, he walked away with
the title everytime.
I worked with him for over 10 years and had many talks about boxing.
He told me about how he got to spar Tyson when he
was getting ready for the Olympics.
He never bragged much about his wins, but he told me that if he
wanted to hurt someone he could.
But he rather win.
Years later i ran into him at the bowling alley.
We caught up on old times, but i saw one of those punching machines in the corner
and i told him "I'm not letting you leave without seeing what you got".
He smiled and said "sure, let's do it".
I took a meagher swing and scoring average i said" your turn Alvin".
Alvin squares up and threw only a stiff jab that still results in shutting off the machine.
One of the strongest men in the world took 8 running swings at a similar machine
accomplished what Alvin did with one stiff jab
I realized then that he really could have hurt someone in the ring but showed mercy and simply would just try to win.
When i found out he died a month ago, this is how i wanted to remember him.
As a man could have been a brute and a menace in life, but instead decided to show mercy to his competitors and kindness to all.
The sky is blue, clear, jovial and ethereal
To welcome with open heart spring which is
So beautiful, fresh, colorful, and at ease
Oh! It’s a reborn again time which is real.
Oh! Friends, it's the most wonderful season
Green lawns and shrubs return to the horizon
The birds resume their blissful refrains
Listen to the sound of the old fashioned trains.
Little children play on the unpaved avenue
Gorgeous ladies walk around almost nude
Where some amateurs fall into pleasant dreams.
The trees are already full of sweet sap and the streams
Are in good and superb shape for the season
Dear friends, naturally the harvest will be cornucopian.
Copyright © April 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Le Printemps Endimanché
Le ciel est bleu clair, blanc et éthéré
Pour accueillir à cœur le printemps
Si beau, frais, coloré, et endimanché
Oh ! C’est un jeune et nouveau temps.
Oh ! Les amis, c’est la plus superbe saison
Les gazons verts retournent à l’horizon
Les oiseaux reprennent leurs refrains
Écoutez passer les vénérables trains.
Les petits enfants jouent dans les rues
Maintes belles femmes se promènent presque nues
Où certains se plongent dans des agréables rêves.
Les arbres déjà bien remplis de douces sèves
Sont en bonne et superbe forme pour la saison
Chers amis, naturellement fructueuse sera la moisson.
Copyright © April 2024, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.
WORLD FAMOUS
HE WANTED OUT OF THE CONTRACTILE PAPERS THAT LIMITED
HIS PRESENT EXISTENCE.
HE COACHED BEYOND WELL.
HE TURNED AMATEURS INTO NEAR CLOSE PRO'S: BUT THEY REFUSED TO SHINE
THEY REFUSED TO BE OUTSPOKEN, THEY REFUSED TO ADD THE COHESION THEY NEEDED
TO BE BEST AMONGST THEMSELVES: AND BEST IN THE WORLD THEY WORKED IN.
INSIGHT OF FAILURE HE RECOGNIZED HIS PRESENT POSITION
AND DOUBTED HE COULD
ENCOURAGE THOSE WHO FOLLOWED HIM TO BE BETTER THAN THEY WERE.
HE WANTED OUT OF HIS CONTRACT: BUT A CLAUSE LIMITED HIM FROM ASKING TO LEAVE.
SO HE DEVISED A SCHEME, TO HAVE THE STAFF ASK HIM TO LEAVE.
HE TOLD HIS FRIEND WHAT HE WAS GONNA DO, AND HIS FRIEND ADVISED HIS AGAINST IT.
DAYS AFTER TALKING TO HIS FRIEND, A WOMAN APPROACHED HIM AND ASKED IF SHE AND HER CAMERA CREW COULD FOLLOW HIM AROUND FOR A FEW DAYS TO
DO A DOCUMENTARY ON SUCCESS AND RUGBY. HE ALLOWED THE CREW TO FOLLOW HIM, THE WOMAN KNEW OF HIS PLAN, AND NEVER SPOKE OF IT.
SHE WANTED TO SEE IF HE'D CARRY OUT WHAT HE HAD TOLD HIS FRIEND IN CONFIDENCE, AND HIS FRIEND HAD LEAKED.
WELL THE COACH, ORDERED A TEAM MEETING, AND SAID THEY HAD TO MEET HIM AT A RESTAURANT IN TOWN, TO GO OVER NEW PLANS.
HE ASKED EVERYONE TO ORDER THE SAME THING, " A ROARING hOTTIE" HE SAID IT WAS A SWEET CHICKEN DISH AND IT WOULD COST $25.00 A PLATE.
WELL THE DAY CAME FOR THE TEAM TO MEET AT THE RESTURAUNT, THEY WENT IN AND SAT DOWN. THE COACH CALLED THEM AND TOLD THEM HE'D BE THERE IN 30 MINUTES. HE TOLD THE TEAM CAPTAIN TO ORDER THE "SWEET HOTTIES' AND BY THE TIME THEY'D BE SERVING HE'D BE WALKING THROUGHT THE DOOR.
WELL THE TEAM CAPTAIN ORDERED THE "SWEET HOTTIES" AND THEY SAT DOWN AND WAITED FOR THE COACH.
THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN THE CURTAIN FLOW OPEN AND DANCERS CAME OUT AND GREETED THE TEAM.
THEY WERE MOALO DANCIE' WHILE THEY DANCED WITH THE RELUCTANT TEAM A CAMERA CREW FILMED, AND THE DANCER GAVE
THE TEAM CAPTAIN A LETTER.
HE READ THE LETTER AND IT SAID.
WE'D BE IN FIRST PLACE BY NOW
IF YOU BUNCH OF --------------'S
WOULD DO YOUR DAMN JOB
i QUIT!
SIGNED
"THE cOACH"
It was supposed to be
A simple snowshoe expedition
Nothing glamorous or too exciting
But the day started out magnificent
Gloriously sunny and mild
Ideal for newbies and amateurs
It felt like a girl guide outing
Average age was ten
The trail was awesome
Breathtaking on either side
Snow covered bushes as far as you could see
Glistening sprinkling of fairy dust
And here we were single file
A line up of colored tuques and snowsuits
Getting acquainted with our snowshoes
Making our imprints with every step
What a surprise awaiting around the corner
A huge bonfire
Who would have guessed
Roasting wieners on a branch
Best lunch we ever had
A most magical marvelous memory
When all was done and said
Nothing left but light fluffy snowflakes
Caressing the last few remaining embers
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
The Brewery
It goes back a long time when I saw this closed down
the brewery, on the wall, faded letters proclaimed
Portugal`s best beer. The was an enormous gate into
the courtyard I could smell the sweating horses
and saw the iron rings on the wall where they were
tied waiting for their cart to be filled with beer crates.
There were many cats around, once they had been fat
living off the beer foam, waiting for a good time
returning. I tried the front door, massive it was but
not locked I half opened it but then felt spooked there
might some spirits resent my intrusion?
Twenty years later and the place was bustling with
life, pro, and amateurs can exhibit their work there,
It is easy to spot the difference, the amateur looks happy
with his work, the pro thinks his work is not so good
as he had planned it
When the cats realized that the beer would not flow,
they went back doing what they best do catching mice.
The sky is blue, clear, jovial and ethereal
To welcome with open heart spring which is
So beautiful, fresh, colorful, and at ease
Oh! It's a reborn again time which is real.
Oh! Friends, it's the most wonderful season
Green lawns and shrubs return to the horizon
The birds resume their blissful refrains
Listen to the sound of the old fashioned trains.
Little children play on the unpaved avenue
Gorgeous ladies walk around almost nude
Where some amateurs fall into pleasant dreams.
The trees are already full of sweet sap and the streams
Are in good and superb shape for the season
Dear friends, naturally the harvest will be cornucopian.
Copyright © April 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
So slick, so brown, baked and bright
colour and flesh, bordered by voluptuous curves.
You’ve made praises of you beyond a man-made stuff;
on you alone, craft, art and sexuality, together mold.
Your every action, movement and word
are sprinkled with little erotic flakes.
The provokers of nature-bending desires
cling unto your waist like colourful beads.
Chocolate steams coming out of your inner refuge
give sweetness like pieces of sugarcane in coconut water.
Converting every attention towards you
to the longing of a voracious chew.
Heightened temperatures and senses make any soul cough
when seeing your bare carrying soft elements so bold.
Sight of you is honey for passions so tough,
they consume, exaggerate breath sounds and never grow old.
Sketches of you even from amateurs are never rough
and the layers beneath your skin are the purifiers of Gold.
Matured and serious young adults have faith in love
but to your passionate affection, I’m a complete extremist.