Long Bandstand Poems
Long Bandstand Poems. Below are the most popular long Bandstand by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bandstand poems by poem length and keyword.
I think I must be seeing things
Before me stand the four of kings,
They shuffle when the Bishop brings
Annette upon nine raven wings
And Beanie rides a sea serpent
And wonders where the yellow went;
I go to pay the next day’s rent,
Where have they taken my new tent?
The bandstand kids look like Dick Clark,
Turn on the lights, I’m in the dark,
I’m standing in Grand Central Park,
A worm has caught a purple lark
And Kookie has run out of combs
So rents out rooms in old maid’s homes,
He has B.O. where ere he roams
So buys some spray and sells his tomes,
To your friend Ralph, yes you know who,
The one who should be in a zoo;
He sells used cars upon the tube
To each and every simple boob
And if he gives you stomach ache
Then Alkaseltzer’s what you take
And Bufferin too if you’re a rake,
Thus hath the Johnny Carson spake
Do I need a cigarette?
A camel says before me yet
‘yes, Luckys is the brand to get,
Be a he man, don’t you fret’
‘there must be worser ways to die
So buy brand X, give it a try’;
Just then another bird walks up
And asks me what I feed my pup
Then puts a nickel in my cup
And tells me I am full of crup
Of where I am, I’m unaware;
Why are the people all so square?
Who is standing over there?
He says he’s here to take my fare
But I’m not going anywhere,
Besides I feel my pockets bare
‘Well then I guess you must have paid’
At this I start to get afraid,
I think my mind will start to fade,
Then Hogen’s Heros make a raid,
Upon my sensibilities
And now it’s clear why each eye sees
So many people climbing trees;
It aint because of hungry fleas
As Tarzan swings upon a rope
I find I start to give up hope;
Jack Webb has started smoking dope
So now the crooks no longer mope
And Perry Mason kicks a judge
But finds the law will never budge
Unless big business gives a nudge
To Popeye selling ice cream fudge
At this I really have to rush
To our old john so I can flush
So far away this vacant mush
Before my teeth I start to brush
Then Josephine comes to my view
And says ‘I want to talk to you
Have you scrubbed your sink anew?
Your mop I think needs some shampoo’
I said ‘I think you are the plumber
And no one else was ever dumber
You’ve put me on another bummer’
My feelings start to get much number
continued in part 2>
Where do you begin with Ravichandran Ashwin...intellectual impresario
Red ball romeo... conceptual maestro..the Kingpin of spin..leather lothario
Perpetual taunting...teasing..bubbling cerebral cauldron formenting..haunting
Troubling.. flaunting...tormenting..vaunting..fermenting..pleasing
Luminosity...but another one of the band of badger brothers
Reeks of unique chic tweak at its peak
Bare faced cheek of genius geek cavorting
Discerning pastor preaching while yearning for learning
More about turning…..curiosity pique...sleek sporting freak
Mythical master of disaster..have many if any been reaching 500 wickets faster
Viral spirals about this sage despite his age still taking centre stage
Batters like budgies trapped in a gilded cage
As though he had planned to grandstand the Ravinchand bandstand brand...stealing the back page
Revolution masquerading as evolution...cogitating...searching for a solution
Ruminating..problems to fix with his swag bag of tricks..spinning absolution
Precision physician with constant revision...each edition
A new rendition.. high jinks with winks.. and nods to tradition
Wondering...that furrowed brow..pondering how
Career of seams caressed with finger finesse ... architect..engineer without peer…
Can't debunk the magic funk…just respect from a Test tragic monk
Scientist enthrall..sorcerer gall...still one of us...the best of us all.
So hold your head high Ravichandran..still don't know why you were so often the fall guy
Fans vicarious view..our meme..you part of our team...daring to dream..your art of derring do
Iconic booty of noble probes…lush lullabies...strobes lapping global lobes
Sagacious..loquacious oratory...the tonic...fruity frolic
Fresh from laboratory duty..bodacious bucolic beauty
Even naysayers can't deny they relish that conjuring charm from your cherished right arm.
Let's zoom to the elephant in the room...is Ashwin the don of Indian spin
With the skill and will to top the bill and still pip Anil?
Kumble also a defiant giant on whom they were so reliant
Hot to trot just not as savvy as Ravi
The Don's got the lot..takes number one spot
Wealth of stealth...doyen among men..but never ever about himself
He loves cricket just for the cricket itself..zen then..
bell
paper
sticks and twine
one pair cutting shears
to cut the paper
and the ribbon
add the stix
twine an'
bell
I made a list to build a kite
And gathered all them 'round.
I worked real hard with all my might
(Each piece it's place was found).
Bright red as apples on a tree
My kite was taking shape;
A ribbon tail like daffodils
(And bows I had to make).
I wrapped the twine around a stick
And tied it on real tight...
Then took off running up the ditch
But, it would not take flight.
It did not seem to have the weight--
And then it dawned on me...
I had not put the bell in place!
That's what it had to be.
Faster and Faster...off I ran
Higher and Higher...it began
Over the house tops and bandstand
Flying to the 'Meridian'*
Beyond the tree tops and wind-fan*
Higher and Higher...off the land
Faster and Faster...could not stand
Up! Up it took me...kite in hand;
Up in the sky...do not know where.
I could not see to tell.
"Is there anybody out there?"
All I hear... is that bell...
"Hello... Hello hello hello?"
"Tink?"... I was off to 'Neverland'!!
I hope I see you there!
I'm holding on with both my hands...
'Happy Thoughts' in mid-air!
deborah burch©
4/05/2012
*note: wind-fan*: a type of windmill;
'Meridian'*: a planet on 'Deep Space 9', episode 54, that "spends most of it's time in another phase of existence..." It appears in our world briefly, then diappears "for 60 years". These cycles establish less time in our universe until one day they will disappear forever.
(much like childhood imagination;dreams and such)
I would like to dedicate this poem to 'the class', for they have been the most inspirational and encouraging to me since joining 'the soup'...in so many ways...our journey is just beginning...may we each stay young in our hearts forever...
P.C. # 33
======
Many eves of New Years, unbidden, come to mind
As back the years unravel till
It's nineteen sixty-nine
Six-year-old sister and I at age ten,
More tired than either of us
Had ever been,
Were both wide eyed with wonder
Albeit some fatigue
Amusement held us spellbound,
With a sense of great intrigue
We watched Dick Clark, that host with the most
And we loved him, you must understand
For we loved his show and so wanted to go to...
Remember? American Bandstand?!
Our sleepy young eyes had a happy surprise
To watch the last moment tick way
With that Ball Drop descend, when it got to the end
We shouted, for it was New Year's Day!
The seventies began with the clock's
Ticking hand,
And we left the sixties behind
Memories gift which I found in the drift
And the gift was all wrapped up in time
I still see the faces over years stretching spaces
As gently, they're brought back to mind
P.C. # 34
======
Tomorrow brings a brand-new year
"To hope and life!" We toast and cheer
May old acquaintance be forgot?
Perchance, but some? I sure hope not
For maybe as the past years ends
Old acquaintance become friends
American Bandstand, Aqua Velva Ads, Aretha Franklin, and, the Andy Griffith Show
Black lights, Bewitched, bean bag chairs, beads, Batman and the Beatles
Cleopatra, Corvairs, Corvettes, Chevelles, Captain Kangaroo, Civil Rights Movement
Dionne Warwick, Derek and the Dominoes, Dennis the Menace, and Dodge Dart.
Ed Sullivan’s Amateur Hour, Elvis Presley, the Edsel, and new expressions emerge.
Fiddler on the Roof , Flower Power painted vans, Free love, Fiber optic lights,
Giget, Green Acres, Glen Campbell, Gun Smoke, Go-Go Boots, “Go with the flow!”
Hello Dolly, Have Gun Will Travel,and the Hippie Movement begin...“Hang Ten”
Imperial (the car), I dream of Jeanie, and new phrases “In your face” crop up.
JFK youngest U.S. President, and Jackie Kennedy stylish First Lady,
Kennedy was assassinated and the nation mourned the loss of their young leader.
Lamborghini 350 GT, Lava Lamps, Lady and the Tramp, Lost in Space, Lassie
Mousekateers, mini-skirts, mobiles, macramé plant hangars, Mash, The Monkeys,
Nissan Skyline GT-R, Nash Metropolitan, and Nestles’ Nestle were signs of the times.
Ordinary people seek peace during the years of war and social change of the 60s.
Pillsbury Doughboy, Petticoat Junction,and Peter, Paul, and Mary, placate.
Queen for the Day TV show, bring a fantasy escape during radically changing times.
Rabbit ear antennas for TV shows: Route 66, and Rowan and Martin’s Laugh- In.
Sherri Lewis and Lamb Chop, Shake and Bake, and the sexual revolution start.
Twist to The Four Tops, The Flintstones,The Adam’s Family, The Twilight Zone.
“Up your nose with a rubber hose” and similar expressions are the times’ lingo.
Valley of the Dolls, Volkswagon Karmann Ghia, and Vanilla Fudge, gain popularity.
Wonderful World of Disney, Vietnam War, protests, and “Groovy” words crop up.
Xenoglossia emerges; “Make love, not war,” “Far out,” “Catch you on the flip-side.”
Yonderly Vietnam Veterans return home to social unrest without a hero’s honor.
Zanadu dances around in the minds of the partakers; religion is legal, not marijuana.
Copyright March 7, 2015
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: The Decades
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Jack was sitting poker faced
With bullets backed by bitches.
Neal hunched at the wheel
Puttin everyone in stitches.
He was braggin 'bout
This nurse he'd screwed,
While drivin through Nebraska.
Said that when she came,
She honked the horn,
And Neal just barely
Missed a truck
And then he asked her
If she'd like to cum like that
All the way to CalifornY?
See a redhead in a uniform
Will always make you horny.
With her hair net and her white
Shoes and a name tag and a hat,
She drove like Andy Granatelli
And knew how to fix a flat!
And Jack was at the bottom
Of his second 2020.
Neal was yellin out the window
Tryin to buy some beannies
From a Lincoln, full of Mexicans
Whose left rear tire blew
And the son's of bitches
Prit near ran us off the road!
Well the nurse had
Spilled the Manischewitz
All up and down her dress,
Then she lit the map on fire
And Neal just had to guess.
Should we try to find
A bootleg route
Or a fillin station open?
The nurse was dumping
Out her purse looking for a kiss.
Jack was out of cigarettes,
When we crossed the yellow line.
The gas pumps looked
Like tombstones from then on.
It felt lonelier than a parking lot
When the last car pulls away.
And the moonlight dressed
The double breasted foot hills
In the mirror, weaving out
A negligee and black brassiere.
The mercury was running hot
And we were almost out a gas,
Just then Florence Nightingale
Dropped her draws and stuck
Her fat ass out the window
To a Wilson Picket tune
And she shouted "get a load of this! "
And give the finger to the moon.
Counting one eyed jacks
And whistlin Dixie in the car,
Neal was doin least a hundred
When we saw a shootin star.
Florence wished that Neal
Would hold her 'stead of chewin his cigar.
Jack was noddin out and dreamin
That he was in a bar,
With Charlie Parker on the bandstand
And not a worry in the world,
And a glass of beer in one hand
And his arm around a girl.
And Neal was singin to the nurse
Underneath a Harken moon
And somehow you could tell
We'd be in CalifornY pretty soon.
KEROUAC THE WORD SPEAKS JAZZ/Tony Adamo
Spoken Word All in Caps for Better Reading While in Recording Studio/10/14/23
THE JAZZ COOL AND BEBOP MUSICIANS MADE MUSIC THEIR OWN/
THE BEAT GENERATION WAS A NONCONFORMIST CULTURE MOVEMENT OF THE 1950’S/
WRITERS, POETS SUCH AS JACK KEROUAC, NEAL CASSADY, ALLEN GINSBERG, DIANE DE PARMA, WILLIAM S. BURROUGH, AND PHILIP LAMANTIA, AND A WHOLE BEAT GENERATION OF AUTHORS WHO TOLD YOU LIKE IT IS/
INNOVATIONS IN THE COOL OF WORD SPEAK POETRY/ THE BEATS WERE A LITERARY SUBCULTURE THAT WAS DEEPLY ROOTED IN THE TOTAL REJECTION OF STANDARD NARRATIVE VALUES/
MAN, HARD LIQUOR, DRUGS, AND MAD SEX FUELED THE BACKBONE OF THE BEATS ALONG WITH THE HARMONIC SYSTEM OF BEPOP IMPROVISATIONS INFUSED INTO THEIR WORLD OF THE NEW POETRY SPOKEN WORD/
THE BEAT GENERATION’S MOVERS AND THINKERS HIPED THE WORLD TO A NEW WAY OF KNOWLEDGE WITH FLOWING THOUGHTS AND IDEAS ABOUT PERSONAL FREEDOM WITHOUT GOVERNMENT INTERVENTION/
SO, DIG, LIKE THE BEBOPPERS STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS ON THE BANDSTAND, IN PARTICULAR, CHARLIE BIRD PARKER IMPROVISED HORN SOLOS/
SO WAS IT FOR THE BEATS' FAST AND SLOW MUSIC TEMPOS IN THEIR WORD DELIVERY/
TAKING MELODY BEBOP MUSIC LINES, IMPROVISATION ON WORDS, AND INCORPORATING THE SOUNDS INTO THE BEAT THINKING AND WRITINGS/
MAN, THESE JAZZ POETS WERE DEEPLY ROOTED IN THE ARRANGEMENT OF JAZZ WORD SPEAK, BEBOP JUMPING FREESTYLE IN WORD WRITING TO PAGE AND BEYOND/
NOT ALL BEATS WERE JAZZHEADS/ BUT JAZZ MUSIC IN THE 1950s GAVE VOICE TO A LOT OF THE BEATS' POETRY AND WRITINGS/ LIKE DIG KEROUAC ON THE STEVE ALLEN TV SHOW TO SEE AND HEAR WHAT I MEAN/
LIKE IT IS BABY, LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI, KEROUAC, AND GINSBERG, WERE KICKIN THEIR WORD SPEAK WRITINGS WITH A BEBOP INFLUENCE AND A MARIJUANA, HIGH BALL HIGH/
THE BEAT GENERATION FREED THEMSELVES IN THEIR WRITINGS AND LIVES FROM THE SHACKLES OF WESTERN THINKING IN SEEKING NEW WAYS TO EXPRESS THEIR TIMES ABOUT LOVE, LIFE, DEATH AND POETRY.
A rose named Brighton
For your funeral flowers
A stunning golden yellow hue
The place you were born Son
But now sadly gone Son
This yellow rose so perfect
I pray my Son you see it too
A year has gone by
Your family and I
here to celebrate your life
your son ~ your daughter ~ your mum ~ your wife
We take a short walk
to the Bandstand
looking to the sea beyond
For our gift to you
is the Brighton rose
A symbol of our love
But oh my Son
you had other ideas
Was it you ~ were you having some fun
For the rose kept returning
Despite the tide turning
And kept ending up on the beach in the sun
Several times
your dear son
threw it back in the sea
but each time it returned
did you send it back for me
With love in our hearts we shed a few tears
When all of a sudden a small child appears
Clutched in her hand a pink fishing net
Wondering what she would catch
And before we could stop her
your rose she doth net
As we sensed her excitement
skipping over the stones
our mouths were wide open ~ our eyes they met
She was showing her mother your rose in her net
Your wife at this point
She dashed to retrieve
saying …
‘The rose was for my husband
we had put it in the sea
So I would be very grateful
if you return the rose to me’
Her mother she was mortified
and handed back your rose
and once again your yellow rose
floated in a wintery sea
though still returned again and again
and that is when you spoke to me
‘Mum please don't you see
I am cold
I am wet
take me home I plea
Do not leave me in the sea’
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
The yellow rose I dried
and tears of joy I cried
now in a vase
here next to me
your Brighton Rose
now here forever
just for me
to see…
Written 17th November 2020
Contest ALL YOURS (JAN 24)
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
Laid down on the sofa today, memory
taking me back to teen years of so long ago.
When friend Danny and I would go down
town on Saturday afternoon to see a movie
at the Paramount, a movie palace with a wide
screen, that would put the theaters of today to shame.
We saw such movies as "The True Story of Jesse James",
Gunfight at the Ok Corral", "The Incredible Shrinking Man'
and so many more. Sometimes we would go over to Marshall's
Music room next door and play records for hours in the sound booth
upstairs, where we would listen to such stars as Jerry Lee Lewis, Buddy Holly, little
Richard, Chuck Berry, The Everly Brothers, Bill Haley and the comets,
the man who started Rock ' n Roll. Then later we would go across the street to the
City Drug and have a coke for ten cents, then catch a bus home. Where on
Saturday night these two college students from Iowa State had a TV Show called
Graves 'n Manor, which showed monster movies until 2 in the morning, we made
some popcorn and had our Pepsi in the bottle.
Lets not forget this was the year that " Leave it to Beaver" had its start on TV
and American Bandstand and a very young Dick Clark was on Saturday afternoon.
This was the year that the New York Yankess and the Milwaukee Braves played
in the World Series won by the Braves in seven games.
Ford put out one of the best cars ever that year, which for a time was driven by
Ward Clever on "Leave it to Beaver". My brother who was still in the Navy came
home on leave and to our surprise had bought one and brought it home with him,
and my friend Danny and i helped my brother wash it one Saturday afternoon,
while we listend to "That'll Be the Days" What a car, what a song, and what a great
year it was, I could write a book about this year along.
Written 5-12-11
Form:
Standing in a garden on the edge of a ridge
Pissing out of the wine of the night
The sea below looks to be grumbling
But the party is still louder than that
The Heavens above may be burning
Yet she's back there holding my hat
If she saw me here in my manhood
There would be two dances more to be had
But she's too busy with a mild maiden
Judging my shadow, my words, and this song
I wish I had a memory to cling onto
Instead of my wit which is decidedly gone
There's a roundabout of gentlemen wild
Drinking all in sight that's left to be sunk
My lady stands glimmering below light-bulbs
Strung lower than my standards tonight
Though luck has made me a winner
Tonight I can't bare to get into this fight
It would be me, myself and an umpire
Judging my swings against my blows
Now I'd usually have myself done for
But her skin has arrested my fists
And opened they hold out my heaviness
Like schoolboys caught, or tramps to the blind
I could shoot myself here by the bandstand
And sit dying in a pool of my piss and blood
I ain't ready for love and its yelling
Its burning sensations and welcoming arms
No give me a chance at the brutal
Give me another go at the dolls
Don't hold out this angel and torture
Don't make me a martyr tonight
My reputable repertoire of near misses
Is staked though the fix in the game
She dealt me a night of clean aces
But I've been fishing and soon lose it all
She eyes me like land from open sea
But this old crow want to nest and forget
My black feathers they aught to be stretching
Flying east to dawn with a dove
That I could steal from her beak some olives
And make a crown of peace to depart
My last drink I drink has me spilling
All my needs the length of a woman
Let this fool be wrapped in her wiles
My glass shatters to diamonds and shards
Best cut your feet in this garden of Eden
And step hard to forget her somehow