Long Antoinette Poems
Long Antoinette Poems. Below are the most popular long Antoinette by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Antoinette poems by poem length and keyword.
Brigitte my love
Our Country suffers of many debts
The people are restless
Whatever shall we do love?
Ah Macron, we must think past the cookies
The solutions are complex, answers evasive
Let me speak with Marie Antoinette, she shall know!
Queen of Navarre, By god we shall be saved!
Marie, Marie Antoinette our people are restless
Our republic is in debt. these are crazy times!
Whatever shall we do?
I am fed up, allons-y
Ah fear not, if they have not bread!
Let them eat Nutella!
Lower the prices
Nutella for the masses!!!
Marie, are you sure? very very sure of such things?
Oui oui, on with it, my father was emperor of Rome
Nutella will calm the masses
Come here Nemo. taste, see even Nemo is tres happy now!
And so France lowered the prices of Nutella
Thus began the nouveau French Revolution
Riots in the streets, brawling in the magasins
The uprising has began, we want our Nutella for free
The masses rose
Nutella for all, Nutella for sans prix
We are all somewhat fou for Nutella you see!
And so the masses fought each other for Nutella's liberty
Nutella one and Nut Ella all!
I swear to your Brigette
We should have given them Macarons!!!
People remain civilized with cafe and cookies! n'est pas?
Emmanuel my love, fret not
The revolution shall be quelled
Qh I have the perfect person for this
He shall restore order to our dear republic
Prey tell Brigette? Who could do such a thing now
Riots everywhere, the masses fight each other daily?
The streets are not safe
There is a shortages of Nutella now, we are doomed cheri
Non non mon amour, I shall call Alizee
She shall sing us out of the terrible mess
She is the mistress of Doug McMillion
This man can save us all!!
Brigitte, who is this man you call Doug?
Why Emmanuel he is the president of Walmart
He has squashed many Black Fridays rebellions
He shall save us all!!!!!!
From these unruly unsavory Nutella shoppers!!!!!
Vive la France!
Vive Alizee
Mange ton macaroon mon cheri
C'est ton droit et ta liberté
Translations
Allons-y = Lets go, pronounced similar to Alizee
Magasins = Stores
N'est pas is written on sound should be "N'est ce pas"
Mange ton macaroon mon cheri = Eat your macaroon cookies my love"
C'est ton droit et ta liberte = Is your right and your liberty
Louis the Fifteenth, king of France,
Adored Madame du Barry.
His royal ardor was not bound
To the person he did marry.
His paramour was hard to please.
The king brooded day and night
On what act of loving kindness
Might appease her appetite.
One day he called his jeweller,
Whose face turned pale, then green,
When told to make a necklace
The likes of which no eyes had seen.
Vanity of vanities! Let nobody forget:
All humankind proposes yields to a Higher Will.
For the king lay dead and buried
When it was time to pay the bill.
They asked:' Who has got the money?
Who is there so rich
As to settle payment
And haul us from this ditch?
Louis the Sixteenth was now king,
But not long on the throne.
To purchasing the necklace
He himself was prone.
His wife strongly objected.
She thought the whole thing crazy.'
'We need to spend on self-defence:
More vessels for the navy!'
Now Cardinal De Rohan was a worldly priest,
Not averse to 'oo la la.'
Especially not in the matter of
Jeanne de la Motte Valois.
As a young girl she was naughty,
But she confessed in style.
The priest let her off counting rosary beads
All for the sake of her sweet winning smile.
Jeanne told the cardinal
They could have a sales deal signed
As friends at court had signaled
That the queen had changed her mind.
The queen and cardinal soon met
And the queen signed with aplomb.
De Rohan was too befuddled
To sense something was wrong
The queen received the necklace
But the queen was not the queen.
Charming though the lady was,
Who knew where she had been?
The necklace was picked to pieces
And sold off part by part.
O woeful desecration
Of this glorious objet d'art?
The cardinal faced the music
A victim of delusion
'Gullable, not guilty,'
came the court's conclusion.
Madame de la Motte Valois
Had no basis for a plea
And she was branded on both arms
With the letter V.
This letter stood for 'Voleuse,'
Meaning in English 'thief.'
Somehow she got to London,
And there she came to grief.
When fleeing from her creditors,
She fell from an upper floor.
Those creditors she did escape,
But only at death's door.
During her interment
Wagging tongues spoke of her guile
But someone chirped in her defence:
'But she had such a sweet winning smile.'
THE EXECUTIONER --Death Of Marie Antoinette
The raving of the night is everywhere,
you lie in candle-light; you brush your hair,
while Paris lulls to sleep, the storm goes on
more promises to keep, before the dawn.
More lightning gloats your room, you shake your head
and thunderous, the gloom would raise the dead;
in shadows from the sound, where devils wait,
you feel them all around, but it is late;
and so you put aside those things you think fear,
the feeling someone's died, and very near.
he sees you in the glow and flashing light,
from where you do not know he waits tonight,
behind the closet door, it creaks ajar,
he waits to see some more of who you are;
so beautiful in dreams, he's always known
your look is what it seems, and his alone.
He's put it in his head, his mortal sin,
your love is just as dead as he has been
all of his life and time, eternally,
and love can't be a crime, if meant to be.
Outcast from all of life, he's died before,
and waits there on this night, to die some more,
not caring it's your fate; the guillotine;
his love will come too late, to save his queen.
You'll die tonight again, it's all been planned,
from time, you don't know when, nor understand,
he's every man you've seen, but never known,
and everything between, love and alone;
from lonliness, and hate of every man,
you've ever met too late, since love began,
from loving one who lied, and cut you deep,
not caring how you cried yourself to sleep;
the cyclone rages on, the storm is great,
your beautiful has gone to be your fate,
and you, the only queen he'll recognize,
are all his love has seen with his own eyes;
if only he would kill, and get it on,
perhaps you'd sleep until your sleep is gone,
but shadows hide your death there on the wall
until your final breath, to sleep you fall,
and that is when you feel what no-one knows,
there in your mind, but real, the wind that blows
to end the shadowed night, before you sleep,
and snuffs the candle light, you try to keep.
Your guilliotine awaits, there is no cake,
to share with anyone, your big mistake,
and so his glove is steady on the bar,
delivering his shiny blade to who you are.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Sometimes I close my eyes real tight and in the darkness I do find
Answers to the many questions that dwell inside my mind
It seems that in the darkness I can more clearly see
What has been is not what is or will someday be
Some memories last way to long while others fade to fast
Somethings in life drag on forever and others never last
There is no right there is no wrong what is left and right
It’s all just an illusion that we hold inside our sight
I've been rich and I've been poor and know it is no joke
Many people you cross in life are a different type of folk
Some games are made for winning and others made to lose
Sometimes in life you just can't help but be full of the blues
Yesterday is gone forever and tomorrow you just can't tell
That’s why living in today is the way to break the spell
The spells are born from the demons that live inside your ghost
And as you look into the mirror they are the ones you hate the most
You want to scream you want cry you want to cuss and fight
But instead you curl up on your rack for one last sleepless night
Your muscles ache your soul is tired and your heart it feels real sore
Sometimes it’s hard to stay in-tune with what it is all for
It’s so once again you can hold your head up high
Know that you have earned the right to look through your mirrors eyes
Life is short and fading fast I can feel it in my bones
The time has come to make myself a place I can call home
Sometimes in life it seems that no matter what price we pay
Those we love with all our hearts just start to fade away
I have laughed and I have cried and through them both I've found
There is no-body else to blame for I have let you down
My love has seemed to let you down I have failed to hold your heart
And inside I feel like dying as I feel us drift apart
Funny how the mind does work as it twist and bends
The fact is I'm not losing my lover I'm regaining my friend
Written for my dearest friend
My Wife Antoinette the last
night that I spent in prison.
That was almost 5 years ago.
The theme park was crowded. Elephants on roller coasters, mosquitos bracing the water slide, ferrets enjoying the ferris wheel and leopards shooting crack in the gallery. A myriad of personification and abundance of fairy tailed suggestions. ‘Its a small, small world’ blared from Magic Mountain as Cinderella dressed up as an indentured laborer in a fancy shoe shop. A comedy of terror ensued in the ghost train, conducted by a retired wall street banking giant resuming the corporate identity of a demon slayer. seemingly seeking redemption, but of course, he had another ace in his sleeve.
All animals were equal but of course the apocalypse had struck in 1984 and the Lord of the Flies was buzzing disguised as an orange clock, collected tickets and sold strawberry ice cream.
An English patient from a nearby lunatic asylum, thought he was a beetle, but Kafka had married Mary Antoinette and was sipping champagne from her braw. She, for once was not eating cake and was thus unveiling the myth of leavened bread at her altar. A merry go round of deception in the snake pit in which a contortionist was trapped in limbo and loin cloth from hell. Mary Magdalene teased him with with a vile of anti venomous serum and soothed his wavering agony in anticipation of saving the world.
Hot cross buns offered cold comfort, but the world was on withdrawal after management had banned coke as a sugar substitute. Sweet dreams were made of lactose free roach skin and the party dwellers reveled in aspirations and nightmares, elevated to prime position in the national canon. A truly amazing ode to joy and poignant distraction from the pawn shop of modern living.
But when the bell struck midnight and Dali melted his digital clock, all went back to the nothingness of the human condition. ‘Your shift starts in eight hours, nothing has moved because of a little fun in paradise’s ante chambers.’ Thanks God the crowd were already wearing their flannel night gowns. ‘Gotta live life to the full and heaven can’t wait.
American Psychosis
The sun, the Son,
ECLIPSED
Overshadowed by
Dark clouds of
Bloated EGO and ID
Me supersedes We
The people1
Will weep
DEADLY SINS
More than seven
In one
Narcissist ‘king’ of
WRATH, HATE, REVENGE,
Not a
‘Dish best served cold2
But with anger
Evil so bold
SCOTUS behold!
Bunker-Busting Bully
Historical ignorance, ignominy
Big Beautiful Bombs or
Tariffs Coercion
Psychotic projection
Weaponized state
Now fully effected
No critic is safe
LUST
When you’re a celebrity
You can do anything
Predatory
You want
Assault, murder, rape,
Cheat, steal, defraud
LIES
Free speech
IF you’re with us
‘Fake news’
If you’re not
We have
‘alternative facts’
GLUTTONY and GREED
Never satisfied with
What you have
Never enough!
Never enough!
IDOLATRY
Genuflection
To the ‘Golden Calf’3
Crown of Orange
No thorns4
Nor Pain
LAZINESS, SLOTH
Reap rewards from
Work of the plebes
Let them eat cake5
Simple living, no steak
Accountability – None
ENVY
Look up to look down
The billionaires ladder
The one I will climb
Not Jacob’s sublime6
But the movie
On the horrors of war7
PRIDE and VANITY
Peers, I can tolerate
But
I am the best
Losers and suckers
Make up the rest
OK to call on them
To squelch the unrest
Parade
Honors ‘Dear Leader’
Who dishonors
Misuses the troops
MAGA, sycophants,
And Nazi salutes
No impulse control
Chaos, Disunity, Autocracy
Unreined
Breaking Bad8
RESISTANCE
Inevitable
‘No Kings’
In ‘our land’
Despite fear of
The worst
Assassinations, arrests
Uncivil will be
Armed
‘There will be Blood’9
On the streets
Where chaos will
Reign
Unless it be tamed
1 Preamble to the U.S. Constitution
2 Joseph Stalin
3 Exodus 32
4 New Testament Gospels
5 Dubious attribution to Marie-Antoinette
6 Genesis 28
7 1990 movie on the horrors of war
8 Breaking Bad, highly acclaimed TV series
9 Gangs of NY 2002 movie `Copyright @ Mel Gill 06/14/2025
Why must you boudoir bring me an empty bag full of fake?
Pinocchio emotions: wooden soul mannequin real
Your impulses beat a synthetic heart mood —
artificial aorta stimulation ~ false erotic excitation
Making it so hard to pump up contrived passion,
when I’m getting so many tissue soft, milquetoast excuses
as to why you’re always missing in merge action
I don’t believe your tears of contrition are real ...
see, here’s the deal —
Me tasting no substitute was the attraction thrill
Once you got the plastic access,
enabling for an instant gratty hi-rise, material elevation
A funky vibe got dropped on the Cloud 9 date vine,
and the alternate current rain paraded imposter elation
Counterfeit love declaration bell bottom dings
started ear chiming with the sultry pleasuring
Bottom line sensations, gong bosom calculating
You’re accrued credit to the lass canine race,
cardio dressed in Marie Antoinette violet lace
Guillotine guilt was disembodied false grace,
repentant wet blush stroked an invisible trace
Ugly thoughts painted on a pretty angelic face ...
clipped wings: be a forged halo prize for haste
So sorry that a makeup do-over couldn’t take place
I found out you had a synthetic stack of sorrows
stashed for a rental getaway rainy day
Victoria building up the secret portfolio courage,
befo’ you go centipede creeping astray
Your skyscraper acquisition desires
wasn’t nothing but a disengaged, EKG rocket boost
A surgical science project
of a failed bypass carjack
Blunt scalpel carotid cut the angle criminally obtuse
But you got caught in the act ...
Trying to steal someone else’s family jewels
just ain’t chastity cool
So sugar, you can keep your recycled sack of sorrows,
it’s alright, baby ... do believe me
Please accept my handwritten,
parting dear Joan message
lip inked urgently
But, it was tardy delivered
with the utmost synthetic sincerity
Vane glorious and absolutistic,
though I defiantly,
cavalierly, and blithely attest
Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy
mine acidic breast
houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic,
barbaric, and bubonic
cannibalistic demons within thy
safely guarded Pandora chest
atomic cesium clock
timed to trigger avast
burst of anxiety, frenzy, and
(What me worry
Alfred E. Neuman) blast
ting mental quietude at most
inappropriate, inconvenient,
inopportune, out classed
adrenaline rush, nausea,
palpitating heart, vertigo
besieging, corrupting,
endeavoring fractured arrant
cleft daemonic gripping
hellishly psychic chant
rendering unto sieze hoar,
a choking vise grip extant
yule hiss sieze indomitable
banshee fully controlling grant
diabolic, dogmatic, and dynamic,
anguished corporeal ache
easily, egregiously, and emblematically,
exemplified historically
graphic fatalistic, and ecstatic coup,
(koo), when I caused furious frantic flight,
and/or fight betake
king angst causing just desserts
for Marie Antoinette,
who got her humble pie cake,
thence dispensing with formalities,
where a joshing drake
(named Gill O. Teen)
also known (solely known
to mine selfish source error ways)
alias i.e. as; the Lewis (loose)
lunatic, heady harvester,
and decapitation Deacon trumpeting,
trouncing, and triumphing tranquility
for fifty three Tuesdays,
thence sea king punishing psychotic
pre pound payment
basking in glory (re: gory us)
amidship crashing quays
music to mine ears hearing plaintive neighs
high pitched straining
vocal chord hamstrung keys
regaling oceanographic
lambent hagiographic essays
and keeping at bathos bays.
April seven is joined together in two special ways
My wife and Carol Brown were each born that day
In so many ways, they remind me of each other
For each one has the heart and soul of a mother
Like a great big clown riding a little bitty bike
Antoinette and Carol are the type we naturally like
Two separate women who hold pieces of my heart
Although, each one holds a completely different part
Antoinette was able to see what no one had seen
Inside of this nightmare lived a very beautiful dream
Carol’s beautiful heart was able to help me to see
Poetry Soup was exactly the place I needed to be
Two very different women with two similar souls
Played significant roles in my reaching my goals
One helped me piece together my shattered heart
The other helped me keep it from falling back apart
I think I’m truly about as lucky as any man can be
There are so many different people care about me
Carol is just one of many I love here on the soup
I’m lucky to have landed in such a beautiful group
Carol, never doubt the truth in these words I say
This is the highest complement I could ever pay
To be written alongside a poem with my wife
Means “I Love & Respect” every drop of your life
You’re the very first to have landed in this spot
Old friend I reckon that means I love you a lot
April seventh I’ll proudly find my knee’s and pray
You’ll have a wonderfully blessed special birthday
i wanted to write Carol a Happy Birthday poem
but I wanted to give it special meaning. Anyone
who knows how much I love, admire, and adore
my wife; knows that for me to place someone in
a poem alongside her, is the highest complement
I could ever make. Carol thank you for the love,
friendship, support and prayers you have given me
over the years. I'm very honored to be your friend.
French trader Tavernier in a greed-inspired way
Glared at an idol of a temple in Mandalay
Prying a gem from its eye socket, a curse prevailed
Tavernier died bankrupt soon after making the sale
Louis XIV bought the stone, 1668
A gift to his mistress, Louis had it cut heart-shape
For dabbling in Black Magic, this madam was burned
A century passed with the curse’s power unlearned
The diamond was then bestowed on Marie Antoinette
For wearing it with boastful pride, Marie lost her head
She lost respect from the commoners of her nation
This gem has since been linked to the French Revolution
Cut far smaller, the gem resurfaced, 1830
When a London banker bought the rock of infamy
Henry Thomas Hope survived; the curse appeared to break
For 70 years the Hope Diamond’s wrath lay in state
A Hope heir’s marriage collapsed; his wife evoked the curse
As she foretold, subsequent owners’ fates would be worse
French broker Jacques Colot went mad, suicide his road
Sultan “Abdul the Damned,” insane after being deposed
Then to an American the Hope Diamond was sold
Washington Post owner Maclean watched horrors unfold
Other household members died, but it was Maclean’s son
Ten years old, struck by a car, his Dad’s mind came undone
Ultra-light ray tests caused the mystery diamond to glow
With safety in mind, Hope’s eerie stone found a new home
It remained locked on display in the Smithsonian
Could it be to blame for all that’s wrong in Washington?
Tragedy also tied to raiders of King Tut’s tomb
Perhaps lessons can be gleaned from those who met their doom
Robbing temples, burial sites, outcomes always bad
Greedy souls’ quests for wealth can leave them totally mad
So don’t expect me to purchase a diamond in the rough
Considering this gem’s history, a sandstone’s quite enough