Long Amie Poems
Long Amie Poems. Below are the most popular long Amie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Amie poems by poem length and keyword.
Was it the Longfellow Bridge? Massachusetts?
One night we crossed a bridge on foot,
Dominique, my travel friend this summer 1989,
And seated we contemplated Boston at night,
Summer was hot, the city friendly and joyful,
We talked two hours about this new country,
The lights of Boston were full of Promises,
There was something soothing about America.
Était-ce le pont de Longfellow ? Massachussetts ?
Une nuit nous avons franchi un pont à pied,
Dominique, mon amie de voyage cet été 1989,
Et assis nous avons contemplé Boston la nuit,
L’été était chaud, la ville amicale et joyeuse,
Nous avons parlé deux heures de ce nouveau pays,
Les lumières de Boston étaient pleines de Promesses,
Il y avait quelque chose d’apaisant en Amérique.
PS, un souvenir qui est resté dans mon coeur,
bisous
We stroll beneath the Eiffel Tower,
Caught amidst an autumn shower,
Just my petite amie and me,
Snuggled warm and dampness-free.
Bound to hear true romance call,
Close 'neath our crimson parasol -
Her little dog takes shelter, too,
(Chance for a stolen kiss-or-two).
Oh, blessed am I to be your fella,
Your lips, bright as our red umbrella,
Juicy fruits, fresh from the vine -
Succulent when pressed to mine.
So, let the droplets dance and spatter,
Sweet its song, that pitter-patter,
The bubbles in our day's champagne ...
How wondrous, Paris ... in the rain!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Red Umbrella" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Judge & Sponsor.
never turning away from the gentle feeling of you
forever putting the sincerity of your love on a pedestal
that anne murray song in my head making me smile
cherishing each day mostly cherishing you most of all
this diamond ring always shines for me everyday
a song called my belle amie is an unexpected song that we dance to
the electric warmth of your affectionate touch feels as new as the first time i felt it
i cherish each day mostly cherishing you most of all
appreciating the simplicity of life with you
the beauty of you is like a gentle wind in the center of God's Creations
as i hold you close enjoying the vibe similar to a flaming ember,
another song relaxes our mentals....all mind, body and soul with a love that will never grow old
forever we cherish each day mostly cherishing each other most of all....
Thought it might be time I would reply to you
That I would let you own me is the last thing I would do
You were too wrapped up in you to see
It 'aint about someone else it's that I'm finally free
From your crazy ideas of you and me
You think maybe you could stay
For a while, maybe longer, if you had your way
How could you even ask me what I want to do
The only thing I want's to stay the hell away from you
At least you can admit you don't know wrong from right
But that don't excuse your tryin' to control my life
Don't know why I think it's so hard to believe
That even you would write me something that sounds so naïve
Here it is again in case I've left you any doubt
You might be fallin' in but I'm all the way out
How could you even ask me what I want to do
The only thing I want's to stay the hell away from you
July 16, 2017
Inspired by "Amie" by Pure Prairie League
Contest: "The Poet's Ear"
Their faces are still there;
caricatures and cameos,
grinning mugs and jug ears.
Cheering, jeering chums
that would phone at four in the morning
to garble drunken thoughts,
make momentous plans,
or borrow ten quid.
The oddball humorist
and part-time suicide,
the drama queen
contesting her own shadow,
the poet who never wrote a poem.
The mon ami and mon amie
that drank for you
when you could drink no more.
Long after the late-night bus rides,
I see their features pressed against
softly glowing windows,
as London transports them
even to far off Ohio;
their lips silently mouthing –
a last goodbye or maybe just trying
to cadge another tenner.
I don't know why I love your smile
I don't know why I admire your style
I don't know why I appreciate your ways
I don't know why I want to carry your trays.
Through your eyes I can see deep in your heart
It's like looking through a binocular or a telescope
At times, I see love, pride and many rainbows of hope
That's why I want to voluntarily push your heavy cart.
I don't why I love you so much and fondly, my love
Oh! It is the heavy heartbeat that I feel around you
Oh! It is the way you express yourself making few
Mistakes. Oh! Baby, you're indeed a gorgeous dove.
Of course, I know why I love you with so much passion
I can feel the current flowing through my veins like blood
I smell it like incense that the priest uses to calm the flood
And yet, I love you because we have God's benediction.
I don't how your heart feels for me, if you like me or not
It does not matter to me. I care about you because I'm a nut
A brave lover. I love you with all my guts and I want to be part
Of your challenging future. I want to love you with all my heart.
Now, I know why I love your smile
Now, I know why I admire your style
Now, I know why I appreciate your ways
Now, I know why my poor heart is ablaze.
Copyright © April 2020, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
I felt his little wrinkled nose pressing through the snow, just when I thought I was all alone, under this lovely quilt so bright. I’m tougher than I look; I can be broken. Let the cold freeze his selfish schnoz! The psychiatrist did say I have an anger problem, he called me a nut - I told him to leap from this tree and to my amazement he did. His swan dive was amazing, swirling and twirling, but darn, he landed on those lazy leaves.
I prefer to think of myself in poetic words, I am the fruit of the oak. I’m leather-tough and my body’s shaped like a cup. I’m practically perfect.
The bully-birds picked on my brothers and sisters. They came close to me a couple of times, but the kindly wind swept them away, their tail feathers ruffled.
In the Autumn I fell, landed hard - my bum bruised and an impish human threw me into a basket. I was humiliated as I dashed against John Does. He took us up, lined us up like army men - should I salute, I wondered.
His mother called him in; the wind came with a cold shoulder this time, brushed me off. Then this bitter storm of white flakes frightened me. I fought the shiver - over time I became warm under confectionary powder.
My future grim - I see now I shan’t become a tree. I reside inside another living thing - adieu adieu. I close my eyes as I am chewed. I leave this note beside my cocoon. Remember me, mon amie as you look up.
4/29/2020
The Last Acorn Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
Marvel's Fantastic Four: Mr. Fantastic, The Invisible Woman,
The Human Torch and The Thing.
The best memory of the Fantastic Four cartoon characters
that can be best realized, of good measure, was their
live production. Unfortunately, not one episode
is resurrection-able of their cartoon version.
However, that filmed production wherein human characters
portrayed their cartoon counterparts as singularly
different. Granted that there'd be others that
were produced on the silver screen
whereto calls into question
my 'good measure'
ergo, google
ID it to be
a 2005
film.
First off, ...
The Invisible Woman was visibly
fetching and was indebted to
Mr. Fantastic's character,
yet not by definition.
The Thing's character was quick to temper
and getting stoned whenever ...
The Human Torch,
combust.
Albeit, Mr. Fantastic's human counterpart was
misleading as his appearance rendered him
to be fantastic-ally half his portrayed age
and that protege veneer was studious.
The contrast between Mr. Fantastic's cartoon character,
stems from Dr. Ben of The Jonny Quest Adventures
who shares that '60s science-like qualities
whereto Mr. Fantastic bears a streak
of gray hair--defining age factor.
Furthermore, the content of that movie is fleeting other than
the fact that The Human Torch is excessively
--cold.
Sadly, the complete genre of cartoon episodes no longer
occupies my memory banks--blank. Whether they'd
be televised or store-shelved, it'll also include my
children's. Most characters are more noticed
than the show/comic/toy they delivered.
Noting their identifiable names, Popeye versus the
boys' Pac-Man and the girls' Barbie, and beyond
that ... nothing,
"C'est la vie, mon ami/amie."
"That's life, my friend."--> Masculine/Feminine: French translated
C’est ton heureux anniversaire
Mon amie, ma copine, ma commère
Il m’est impossible de t’envoyer des fleurs
Et je ne peux pas t’écrire de jolis poèmes
Cependant je peux te souhaiter du bonheur
Avec toute ma force et avec tout mon cœur.
Parfois, on ne peut pas vider tout le contenu
De la vase, comme on ne peut marcher tout nu
Dans les rues essaimées de charmantes femmes
Puisqu’on est limité et on a qu’une pauvre âme
On peut simplement mesurer ses vives émotions
Femme ! Oh ! Mémère, je me noie dans la passion.
C’est ton joyeux anniversaire
Mon amie, ma flamme, ma commère
Je te souhaite de tout mon cœur
Santé et des arcs-en-ciel de bonheur
Que la Providence te bénisse avec abondance
Et que la vie te soit des jours et nuits de vacances.
P.S. Translation ' It's Your Happy Birthday, Gorgeous Old Lady'.
Copyright © Mars 2022, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs livres de poésie.
Rappelez-Vous
(English translation below original French)
Rappelez-vous les petits fils
Qui ecoutaient leurs grand-peres
Raconter des histoires d’ infanteries
Et de battailles de la premiere guerre.
Rappelez-vous des braves garcons
Qui s’imaginaient etre des soldats,
Qui plus tard servaient le drapeau American
En tant que veritables soldats.
Rappelez-vous des pauvres parents
Qui ont recu des telegrammes et des lettres,
Et qui apres ont place indefiniment
Des etoiles d’ors aux fenetres.
Rappelez-vous de chaque petite amie
Qui esperait un jour se marier
Avec son beau voisin-ami
Qui ne va jamais plus rentrer.
Rappelez-vous des nouvelles jeunes veuves,
Avec ses petits orphelins des peres,
Qui devaient subir les enormes epreuves
D’elever leurs enfants sans l’aide des peres.
N’oubliez pas les anciens jeunes garcons—
Les chanceux qui ont survecu
Et regardent souvent les horizons lointains
Cherchant leures ami-fantomes qui ne sont jamais revenues.
Remember
Remember the grandsons
Who listened to their grandfathers
Tell stories of infantries
And battles of the first war.
Remember brave boys
Who pretended to be soldiers
Who later served the American flag
As real soldiers
Remember the poor parents
Who received telegrams and letters
And who afterward indefinitely placed
Gold stars in their windows.
Remember each girlfriend
Who hoped to marry someday
Her handsome neighbor/friend
Who will never come back again.
Remember the new young widows,
With their little fatherless children
Who had to undergo the enormous ordeals
Of raising children without a father’s help.
Don’t forget the former young boys-
The lucky ones who survived,
And often look at the far horizons
For their phantom-friends that never returned.