Long Bam Poems
Long Bam Poems. Below are the most popular long Bam by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bam poems by poem length and keyword.
It was a party of fleas who dropped some tea into the sea
Created a baby that left its mommy
Now there is an elephant and donkey in the room
So, lets asked who’s the bigger ***?
A spark, a flare, lighting a camel, an affair
Puff of smoke gone, what went wrong?
Bully the pulpit, who’s the culprit
Line drawn and divided by two
A state of iron bars but let’s call it a zoo
Divided into a system of them vs you
Don’t lose your autonomy
Though everyone is still just a monkey
Collectively a swarm of angry bee’s
The brilliants of hatred and judgment
The embellishment establishment pageant
Yesteryear's of days past are today's fears
Financiers, volunteers as November nears
Comparisons, divisions of wealth’s occupations
Frictions, contradictions, comedians
Who will be the next king of the jungle?
Both proclaiming to be the blissful angel
Tis the mating seasons bestial battle
Birdies tweets all about it on the their social
Scandal! Scoundrel! Oh, look there’s a squirrel
The eternal feral quarrel circle
The apex creatures are very territorial
For the king or queen, gerrymandering
The two-party system is the grand pyramid scheme
Bunch of ***holes looking up and bunch of **** looking down
Kiss up, gallop, gossip, stirrup, who will win the crown?
In this cage, enrage, what’s on the front page?
Who’s saying what about minimum wage?
Outrage about an issue? The cockatoos will throw a horseshoe
Here, eat this grass, here, pray at mass, or don’t
They will provide an antidote
Cheer, this one is such a deer, so sincere, so clear
Ok, the political evolution will find a way to prey on the economic roadway
Confusing rat race values, turn to the news and find out who will lose
Here, oats for the goats. No, the grass is greener over there
But be aware because there is a monster troll lair
Despair not of this nightmare, the election will swear to another road
The only condition for this prince is you must kiss this toad
Bam, the payload full of taxes and other critter’s pensions
Hurry up and cooked this eagle thanksgiving is awaiting
Tis the season for the hating, frustrating, debating,
Won, the elephants and donkeys parties are one hell of celebration
After-all in this zoo, the keepers and guests are laughing at you
Updated 5/14/2019
Form:
"Camptown Races sing this song, Do Dah! Do Dah!"
( sung incessantly by a certain, unique rooster.)
Henry Hawke: ( Sung to Holly Jolly Christmas:)
" I'll be there and back by sunset.
There's a chicken there for me!
Mom and Dad will be proud, you bet!
when a chicken, they'll see!"
Henry: ( Sung to Arkansas Traveler:)
" I think that there's a chicken, yes, indeed!
No need to check, that's a chicken, yes, siree!
I know that that's a chicken , yes, indeed!
Even though he has a snout for pecking at the seed!"
POW! ( cue woozy music.)
Barnyard Dog:
Hey, wait a minute, kid!
Have you flipped your lid!"
Henry:
" I hit you a good one and I'm the winner!
Now come along with me! You're what's for dinner!"
Barnyard Dog:
" Eh, kid.. I'm a dog, don't you get it!
Now, scram! Before I make you regret it!"
" Camptown races, sing this song..
I say , I say.. it's not the words,
son, it's the song
It kind of.. eh, moves me along, err.."
Henry:
" Oh, the shame!
The family name!
Life for me will never be the same!"
Barnyard Dog:
" Someone's given you the bum steer!"
He looks at Henry crying.
" Kind of gets you right here..
Tell ya, what, kid!
I'll give you a real clucker with all the feathers!
Now listen to me, the sooner the better.." Pss. psst. pss..
"Camptown Races, Uhh, oh, I say, I say..
What do we have here?!
An unholy alli, alli alli, joining together.
and the word is ..Beware!"
I say, son!
What are, what are you doing here
in my little slice of paradise?!"
Henry:
"Ehh, Mister Cock-a-Doodle Doo..
I'd turn around if I were you!"
"Heh, heh heh..
Obviously, this boy believes
that I was born yesterday
if not the day before!
Let me lead him on a little more.."
"Just what am I supposed to see, there, ehh, son?
The rising moon? The setting sun? Heh, Heh, Heh.."
BAM!
"I, I, I think I've been way layed.
I, I, better look for some shade.."
PLOP!
"That boy's got more nerve than a bum tooth!
ehh, that's a joke, son!
Miss Prissy! My my time has come too soon!"
Eeee, THUD!
Henry and Barnyard Dog( together.):
"Geez, What a maroon!"
Cue the Looney Tunes end music.
(" Eer.. That's your cue, son!")
" Can't find no good cartoon help these days!" THUD!
THAT'S ALL FOLKS!
Once, long distant calls would cost
You, your friends and family so many voices
had to wait, anticipate the budget and the worth
of words said out loud to ride rapid electric lines.
Still sentiments of love freely fly on telepathic planes
while prose and poetry remain yours truly.
When present face to face do you speak truly?
Conversations branch out, chip, splinter into stories, that's the cost.
Fish stretch past arms' length and record breaking climbs pass clouds and planes.
Tell me again how it all began, how many voices
sang out from heaven: Forgiveness for sale! Limited supply, form lines.
Greedy practice, selling soul's salvation, who figures out what it's worth?
Fear can make us pay the selfish who decide our worth.
Are our souls and spirits make-believe, a magician's trick or God's, truly?
Conversations of belief from heart or scripted lines
brainwashed or sincerely swayed, choice has a cost---
Cross your fingers, chant the scriptures, sing with all your voices
until it's real or a lie you can live with, insured for your departure in heaven's plane.
If a soldier's plane crashes, angelic eagles soar, swoop like planes,
nose dive to every soldier because lives are worth
remembering. Telephones shoot words-- bam, bam, bam, fire voices
on ears that bleed worst fears, shattering those who love them truly.
Nothing will ever be sweet or innocent again, this is an impossible cost.
War kills conversations, steals final farewell lines.
Songs please draw forgiving lines,
to rise over hatred in unarmed planes
for a bird's eye perspective to consider the cost
of love lost in doubt, its worth.
Love lights up any sort of soul, truly.
It's power hurls bolts through nerves that revive the mystic voices...
Devils, misfits, do-gooders, cherubs and chumps-- let's hear all your voices!
Call out to love, it won't resist, will cross any line
to save who is good or bad-- it desires everyone, truly
Here comes the light, hear comes our flight, listen for the plane
Remember it's insane to worry about your worth,
to be, to be, is miracle enough, we can't comprehend the cost.
Solo fly or get in line formation with you plane
Lift off, blast past hatred to reach Love's treasure of unimaginable worth.
Truly precious, so protect it, Love in all your actions no matter what the cost
cold rain
to slow-streak the
glass I watch you through -
you and your
christ ...
the ginger bread man,
sugar daddy savior, all that
I was not, (and less) ...
choices of
compromise, to provide
the lifeblood of your
"needs" ...
you, admiring
your bullion reflection in a
shimmering bottle of Armand de Brignac,
smiling for your
'badder' half -
a manufactured laugh for
the fools about who
find your pout a
bit too pretentious,
conscientious that the
pear-shaped
D/flawless Winston that
tickles thy freckled
cleavage, speaks as loud as
the painted bows
above, my dear love,
(once) ...
now I'm
just a jester, the
crowning kid of skid row, and
you'll never know I
eyed your trim - spied you
with him, picking a
bone in the
bistro I used to own,
with Sir Steadfast, but
alone - so aptly
and achingly alone ...
extrovert of extroverts,
yet you're EVER
unattended ...
even 'friended' to the max,
'midst stacks of your
fairest fans,
(and man), your loneliness
strangles - dangled on a fraying
rope of hope ...
a wish that life holds
more than your
this ...
my station
now mended, I've
ended my peerless peering, time
for steering my Wal-Mart
cart to that
toxic box under the bridge,
the fridge that I
call home ...
I turn and push, warmed by the
squeak-squeak music
of the wheels,
makes me feel all warm
inside ... I chuckle
out loud when I think
of you and your scarecrow-on-
a-cross, all warm ...
inside ...
I spin my
buggy 'round, just
digging the sound, and the thought now
searing my marrow -
oh, such delight, the slings and arrows!
now I'm back outside your
restaurant, you and "he" are on
task - Baked Alaska
flaming sweetly,
so I neatly ball my fist
and ... SLAM!
BAM! CRASH!!
with a flash, (and the
wryest smile - not used in a while),
the glass is shattered,
as I'm Mad Hattered in my
lovely Goodwill coat and weeping
wrists - stormy
mists and sad patter of the
reddened rain ...
now, just a bloody stain upon
your pretty pair, (a bonus - my onus)
I don't look up to
meet your startled stares ...
but stoop to
pick a shard, and
pocket it with utmost care ...
at least
my chest thrums,
I muse - you ...
have not heart enough to
share this broken
window's
pain.
Dear me,
When people say something I don't like, I want to get mad, I want to get upset, but then I
tell myself that I have to be the bigger person for things to get better and just take a
deep breath and distribute an apology where needed and whatever other sugarcoated ********
that the situation need. And, yes, I make the other person happy. But not me.
Why? Because I believe there should be peace. Wait, no, scratch that (Literally, since I
can scratch it out here).
Why? Because? I WANT there to be peace. I'm the type of person that does not like having
guilt nagging at her skull and eating at her heart. So, what do I do? I do whatever I can
to repair everyone's heart the best I can and, BAM! I got exactly what I wanted.
Well...almost what I wanted; Sometimes it takes a lot to change someone's mind. And, I
guess, that's enough for me.
What I do, my friends, is called "Turning the other cheek". I try to do that now, because
I believe it's the right thing to do. I didn't used to do that, though. I used to yell and
scream and act the worst way. But then, I told myself that things would be much better if
I do what I'm doing now. But sometimes it doesn't always work out in my favor.
Okay, okay, fine. Most of the time it doesn't work out in my favor.
I usually end up getting hurt by "Turning the other cheek". Why? Because I can't say what
I want to say. I can't do what I want, because that would go against "Keeping the peace,"
and what I believe in now, which is just that.
Sometimes people don't see that I'm trying to keep the peace, and they think the worst of
me. Sometimes I end up crying. Sometimes the other people don't care. Sometimes I end up
back where I was in the first place Alone and miserable.
But, I will stick by my new policy because it's the right thing to do. But...really, what
IS the "Right thing to do"? What do you think would be the right thing to do for this kind
of thing? Is there even a right way? A wrong way? An in between way?
Do you think I'm doing the right thing? It doesn't feel like I am. But, I'm too afraid of
losing the people I care about to not do it.
Ah, man. This is quite the predicament that I'm in.
Is there no justice?
Sincerely,
The Confused One Of The Bunch.
Embrace by letting go, remember while forgetting
turn fire to ice, pay the price for something free
and just let me be in my little world of insanity:
where gravity collides with space, fish swim in it
where time runs backwards and your birth is death
the wisdom of and old age slowly vanishing as years pass
you become younger and younger; stronger and stronger
until you begin to wonder, what are these things I'm looking at
tiny hands, tiny feet, the final hour of defeat
in a fetal position you lie in bed, unaware, uncertain
tick-tock; nothing more than a stain; vanished, gone
where the absurd is normal and only the informal
is deemed sane, the insane run the show, while it may seem
hectic even the skeptic accepts all opinions without doubt
where the Sun shines darkness and all are afraid of the light
because it just might reveal their lightest secrets
where the Moon smiles because when it's in an eclipse
for a glimpse of an hour it holds hands with Earth, reunited
at long last, escaping the shadows of the past - only sadness
lurks there, the Moon, the Moon, living without a care
Hold me go, let me tight, freeze the ice, burn the glow of snow
let me tight, hold me go
Siht ecalp si ton rof em!
The essence of silence shadowed by the roar of the storm
voices of the just silenced by the shouts of the idiots,
Dance my little marionettes, trade your freewill for the comfort
of a warm couch and a TV, be obedient and wash your brain
don't question just accept, don't evolve just slightly adapt
don't use your potential just be a small part of the sequential flow of data
once you bend the way we want you to, all is good
An aggressive approach indeed, the question is where does it lead
BAM goes the stamp - you've been rejected, ejected from society
the black sheep of a deluded reality, some sort of a fail revolutionary
a stationary passenger waiting for the bus of conspiracy
What a meager attempt from a conspiracy buff-
The painful truth be told,the less intelligent the people are
the easier they can be controlled, the greater the amount
of idiots shouting, less is the chance of the just to be heard
Absurd, ABSurd, ABSURD!!!
Quiet down my children, follow the Shepherd back to the herd
the lonely Sheep is bound to be eaten by the Wolf.
Form:
Argh...What Accursed Fate Did Lurk...
Regarding thee 2009 Hyundai Sonata
(50+ shades of gray), a cred
debt tub bull vehicle, that at
this moment finds sinking
feeling akin to led
zeppelin, yes (for almost ten years,
this car manufactured with damn) sped
to countless destinations,
no whomever drove head
ding here, there, or anywhere,
yea without missing a beat said
vehicle dependable, rightly never left
being reliable, thus no question even Fred
Flintstone could corroborate, how red
dilly reliant aforementioned car
stood us in good stead,
aye attribute to quality wed
did craftsmanship in tandem being exam
manned by skilled automotive technicians,
nonetheless majority of cumulative costs
exceed all other expenditures
and asper right finds
me in a severe emotional,
financial, and spiritual jam,
when meager money resources
socked with exorbitant costs
analogous to experiencing bam!
Over today, a six hundred
plus dollars repair, hits mine head
hard (albeit figuratively), I surmise
a worse fate than being dead
agh...please help me survive
this shell shock humongous,
(yet critical) brake system replacement,
cuz trickling optimism fled
leaving me agast
how ongoing expenses,
will be met for me tum tug get fed
now yours truly feels
utterly rife with dread
as his emergency savings
account reserve tapped,
since checking account
hemorrhaged i.e. bled,
whereat monthly social security
deposit cannot be used to feather bed
my inner peace, particularly when
alarming sense of monetary
distress dost dead
din ability to breathe easy,
when faith to remain
financially solvent fled...
Hence psyche feels like
being pitched to and fro
with no recourse to buttress
legal tender woe
full despair spurs philanthropic
largesse (I hate to beg), though
an upended employment track record
(most recent job held...oye vey
maybe two decades ago)
severe bouts of anxiety/
panic undermined emo
shin null (psychological) confidence
nsync with sweaty palms, this this bro
kin metaphor, which in part
contributes to lifetime mein kampf
of a bajillion times ho...ho...
humbug mood possessed mind
fiendish poker face spirit in hell
worse off than a hobo living on skidrow!
I am happily teaching my second grade students two bully-proofing strategies earlier today.
These powerful anti-bullying techniques are "the thank you" and the "skip away" both invented by me.
First I explain that the mean bullying types are sad inside, so they want others to be mad and sad too. which is why they choose meanness to do and say.
I need to know who they are, so the children write down the names of any child they have seen being mean, for only the teacher and me to see.
We practice the "thank you" this way. I bring up a student who gets to call me names. All hands shoot up. Everyone wants to bully me, until they get up here.
Today I gave twenty-three examples, and I implored the teacher to come up and call me names after two children tried, but failed me.
The teacher, a personal, great friend of mine,said, "I can't do it! But Cameron can." Cameron ran up as if he was being chased by a bear.
BAM! Five mean and ugly things came out. I was amazed and thanked him profusely for each compliment, even did a two-step and a skip to my Lou.
So don't let them see you're mad. Don't let them see you sad. If your face is giving you away, use the "skip away." Jimmy yells out, "Can't we just run away?"
"If you use the skip away, they wonder why you are so happy. " I tell them as they laugh at my bad skipping. "Skipping indicates happiness too."
The children returned to their seats to write down the names of all children who have said or done something mean that they have seen with their own eyes or heard with their own ears since Easter Day.
I say, "Not since kindergarten or first grade. Not something you have heard someone else say that they said. Only write down names of children whom you SAW or HEARD do meanness. Okay?
I was asked thirty-two times if they were supposed to put their names on their paper, curious since there are only 29 students , and two were absent today.
I made a little tally sheet and gave it to the teacher, only. One teacher asked if she could share it with her class, I said "No, because I promised the children this would only be seen by you and me. I smile at my own clever petard.
That's when things turned.
The teacher got a bit snippy. And I quietly skipped away.
--------------------------------------------------------
The Cinematic Film Treatment as poetic element
--------------------------------------------------------
Snickering Bastards
Two chattering ravens narrate a tale of blind revolution and seedy redemption, as we follow a Raisinseed V9.003, the latest hermaphrodite sex worker cyborg prototype grown by the Non Sequitur Corp from lawn cuttings, in her or his meandering narrative from birth to illumination, at the beginning of which we first see Raisinseed's body parts being vapor gun printed from lab rat DNA by Prof. "Bam Bam" Bernie Roundhole, who has secretly grown Raisinseed alongside an evil twin kidnapped with the Professor's connivance by gypsy low riders, deviously paid by the Bureau of Land Management, to detect clandestine ectoplasm at the FEMA Summer Camp Ouija Board séances held in a recently constructed chain link and razor wire facility in a devious scheme to harness the power of human gullibility, where the twins' only link to sanity and dietary sustenance was the giant artificial cow udder they both suckled with the help of a mysterious one eyed Hungarian ex-Tatar payroll robbing Romany Brigade railroad bandit turned private investigator (whence or hence the eye logo on his business card that read "DEEP, DEEPER, DEEPEST!"), the Sure Bet brand dowsing rod inventor, and his partner, the equally mysterious "Tubby" Tepys, who sells the secret Twin (named X for the purposes of this narrative) to the hunch backed majordomo of Castle Bathory, and who, over the span of two generations of political mud wrestling, reveals the key to the reuniting of the twins utilizing the tracking capabilities of a "Mark of the Beast" model branding iron and Homeland Security RFID laser detector which slingshots via the Einsteinian space time reversal dilemma in a mathematical simulation that employs the separated twins for an inter-departmental National Plasmatic Administration foundation grant fund raising public service announcement about the potential for life "out there", and they are reunited by men who shrink heads with the help of tungsten filament light bulbs.
(to be continued)
From "Theater of Utter Charm"
Available on Amazon
there was high winds blowing at the end of the day
so we had to secure the pipe so it wouldnt blow away
pulling on the comealong with all my might
i think the chain snapped cause it wasnt fixed right
... backwards i stumbled very scared
as that beam slammed in the back of my head
knowing i was a hunderd and twenty feet off the ground
i tryed to grab hold to anything around
unduncontroling flipping over the gaurd reel
thank God almighty i went through the stairwell
way up there all i could do is scream
falling fifty feet down hitting beam after beam
trying to grab on anything i can to live
hitting the first beam and breaking my ribs
then i heard this awful crack
as i flipped over and hit the next one in the middle of my back
i had that beam but lost my grip
bam! the next beam right on my hip
still very awake hoping this would come to a halt
i land face first on a steel catwalk
then i hear voices comming from way up high
yelling dont move im trying to figure out why
i hear my brotherin law sounding like he wanna cry
i look to the left and say whats that? he says your eye
as the pain hits i realize im still alive
i hear someone say i dont know how he survived
with so much time passin i began to panic
then minutes later i hear the paramedics
yellin we cant get this gurnny up those stairs
we're going to have to carrie him from way up there
four guys hoist me up thank God they were stout
because it was at that moment when i passed out
i awaken at the hospital cause the light was so bright
i see my wife cryin and screaming is he gone be alright
i try to listen with blood drizzling from my ear
the doctor tells her maam we cant do nothing for him here
as i passed out i assume they took immediate actions
from what i hear they helicoppered me all the way to jackson
i soon awake after all the sugeries and things.
doctors saying im lucky after a few broken bones &losing my kidney and spleen
i see all my family with tears in their eyes
mom thanking god i was still alive
my wife standing with a face full of cheer
also thanking god that im still here
people look at me now and say youre so lucky i think how odd
for i know i would not be here i not for God