Long Announcer Poems
Long Announcer Poems. Below are the most popular long Announcer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Announcer poems by poem length and keyword.
The referee stopped the bout@8:05 and awards
The winfall to " Bester" Bully Thurston. the winner
Of this match and still your Independent All Pro
World's heavyweight Champion, Bester Bully Thurston
(Announcer) you heard ladies and gentlemen, Bester Bully Thurston retains the covernat crown defeating Bulldog Byron Freights via submission mind you.
Hello everybody welcome to the Saturday edition
Of Pro Wrestling Superstars I am your host
Kelp Seaworthy bringing you nonstop wrestling action.
We told you last week, and now here it is
The main Event is something Specail for the fans
The guys involved weren't to Happy about it
But promoter Chaffey " Bigfist" Hossinger has signed
Both members of the World Tagteam Champions to go one on one with each other, he says they were getting along to
well and he didn't have understand why.. he booked the match in full protest of both combatants,
The ranking members of both of he board of directers and the championship committee have filed greivances, curing promoter Hossinger, who insist that the World Champion atteam champions violate the rules restricting them from defending the their tagteam titles in a non sanctioned match in New Zealand. He spoke of the trainers unsportsmen like conduct not being artistically creative enough to talk down the heated combatants, which resulted in a nonsaction match were the titles turned over and the promotion had to strip the champions of the belts and reward them to these men, Hexsel and Swivel Maddox, who now must compete, against one another but n the his no disquilifcation bout to
Satisfy the Promter Hossinger.
The music interrupted,
We all listened for the why.
An announcer gave a warning
That a thunderstorm was nigh.
He was very time-specific
For the counties that he named
And I wonder if the weather
Will be scary as he claimed.
On the back porch I am sitting,
Gazing upwards at the sky
Where I must admit a big black cloud
Is waiting there, on high.
But there's still a bit of sunshine
So it's possible we'll skirt
Such a downpour that deserves
Such an emergency alert.
Forty minutes are remaining
If the broadcasters are wise
And if nothing comes to pass, it won't be
Much of a surprise.
11/17/16
He did not hit no home run, it was a grounder
How many cabinets or counters
Have some sort of white powder
Many meals cooked with flour
Familiar with the Two Towers
As well as Wario and Bowser
Head up, regardless of any times being dour
Nagivating around sharp objects that could be eye gougers
In certain waters, swim flounder
Certain individuals working as a bouncer
Or with web browsers
And many more, but I'm not going to name them all like an announcer
Some just want the money and power
She wanted exotic flowers
And a dog that was a schnauzer
Objects being restored and scoured
On a planet with unexplained mysteries and strange encounters
There is so much you can do in twenty four hours
See for yourself unless you want to be a doubter
This place by the ocean has some of the best chowder
Classic like "Wallace and Grommit in the wrong trousers"
Nocturnal hunters and night prowlers
Wolves are quite the growlers and howlers
By black holes matter being devoured
That which does not can ouster
I always like rain and thunder showers
Girl, of you I could not be prouder
I'll buy, now let's go get some sweet and sour
By: Dalton Ogletree
Patrick O’Flanagan’s covert shenanigans
Make people ask where he gets to at night
There’s a perception that Patrick O’Flanagan
Visits a door with a glowing red light
What people don’t know about Patrick O’Flanagan
Is he has only one goal
Each night at ten to ten, visits his gran again
She does a dance with a pole
Old Ma O’Flanagan dances for Stan and Ben
Over in County Kildare
The nurses and carers all turn a blind eye
As Stan sticks his pension ‘down there’
Pat’s her announcer, he's also her bouncer
He keeps them old fellas in check
Old Ben can get frisky and that’s a bit risky
Unless he desires a sore neck
These is the rules says Patrick O’Flanagan
That shrivelled todger of yours
Grandma will make that old thing come awake again
And you place hard cash down her drawers
But Ben said those wrinkles don’t pep up our winkles
We only watch her to rehearse
For what we might see on the CCTV
When you nip out back with that nurse
scorching heat
one wind
a cloud
do not exist
head hurts like it's going to explode
From the radio weather center
an announcer with a bright voice
saying
"before dark
the drought is over and showers are coming"
forecast
Not that it isn't
thunder
lightning sound
noisy
from afar
short
thick raindrops
break through the black clouds
on the dusty soil
on a solid rocks
on the hot asphalt
on the tin roof of the poor house
crashing and crashing hard
pouring a loud
at some point it's quiet
sham-
ing go away
let's open the window
the surroundings are clean
The scorching heat again
headache doesn't come
like first love that time
I hear the sound of thunder that I thought was over.
You
stood by my side
tall
unafraid
unyielding,
a tower of
strength!
You were:
my doctor
my mother
my sister
my nurse
my paramedic
my guardian angel.
Ready you were:
to oppose the invading virus
to protect me, your child,
to cure me
to save my life.
Day by day
night after night
vigilant you stood
depriving yourself:
of sleep
of food
of your family.
Little by little
your efforts paid off
the enemy retreated
I recovered.
Jubilant you were
ecstatic
shouting for joy
for
having rescued me from
death's embrace.
I left the hospital
returned home:
to my wife
to my children
to my family.
A few days later
I tried to contact you
to show my appreciation
for your many sacrifices
and
to thank you for offering me
the gift of life
Alas
you were not there.
They told me you had passed away
victim
to the disease, you had fought against
for to cure me.
You had left they said
for a better world
a world,
where our Lord of love a special place
had reserved for you:
His newly declared saint!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
08 March 2021
www.unwomen.org/en/news/stories/2020/11/announcer-international-womens-day-2021
*UN Women has set the theme for International Women’s Day, 8 March 2021 (IWD 2021) as, “Women in leadership: Achieving an equal future in a COVID-19 world.” The theme celebrates the tremendous efforts of women and girls around the world in shaping a more equal future and recovery from the COVID-19 pandemic
I dedicate this poem to all women and girls who have fought the invading enemy and especially to those who fell victims to COVID-19. R.I.P.
Dear Frank,
I'm sending a little note,
A note in the wind...
May you find this
Like I found you...
It was nearly a year ago,
In early December,
When I stumbled upon you.
Your voice and your music,
Your heart and your soul.
Floating into my ear,
Another kind of
Note in the wind...
And it made me smile.
As fate would have it
Music would fill a void
That I never saw coming...
Just days later...
When the Coronavirus
Would take my uncle away from me.
Just weeks before Christmas.
The very next day,
I was in my car,
Tuning the radio
To the only station
That plays holiday music,
Hoping that it would lift my spirits.
The first song that came on...
Was your version of
'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas'
It was you.
I knew it was you.
It was not Judy Garland.
It was not Bing Crosby.
It was Frank Sinatra.
After the song ended
The announcer confirmed it...
No other song, no other singer
Could have been more appropriate
In that moment...
I knew it was you.
I don't believe in coincidence.
I do believe in fate.
In that moment...
I almost cried, but didn't.
I smiled.
Not a day has gone by
That I don't listen
To one of your songs.
They make me smile.
Just like my uncle had.
I'm sending a little note
A note in the wind...
Just to say thanks
For the music, dear Frank.
May you find this
Like I found you...
With a smile...
P.S.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light...
Someday soon we all will be together
If the fates allow...
(October 27th, 2022)
Today there is a performance
of happiness about to happen.
Players mime, display
painted smiles over painted eyes.
I am late
an expectant crowd had already formed,
even the town beggars
had stopped panhandling for gold coins
and are waiting curiously for the
show to begin.
An announcer announces:
The script had been lost
in a crisis of doubtful origin.
Joy has been indefinitely delayed.
Someone jeered loudly
another cheered softly.
The performers knelt down
and prayed for more red wine.
Eventually milk and honey was delivered
on the backs of sweating mules,
but they were both stale.
you're a D.J
you're a preacher
a carer or
a teacher
you're a painter
you're a builder
you're a bouncer
or announcer
you're a chef!
you're a doctor
you're a dentist
you're a chemist
or a nurse!
you're a lawyer
you're a sales rep
or a vet!
all having your possesions
all having your professions
JACK OF ALL TRADES
you're chillingly funny
dramatically humorous
inspirators,patriots
historians,lovers of nature
dark poets,light poets
amazingly great
JACK OF ALL TRADES
verses flowing
stanzas moving
you're poets forming shapes!
i'm the reader!
you're the writer!
you're WILLIAM of my kind
SHAKESPEARE of my days
touching hearts ,feeding souls
for you i give my praise
JACK OF ALL TRADES
To all my souper friends
who blend the soup so well
-----------------------------------------lyours charma
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