Long Bender Poems

Long Bender Poems. Below are the most popular long Bender by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bender poems by poem length and keyword.


They'Ve Been Sleepin'

8/18/21


This place is no 'Garden of Eden!'
For now heart still beatin'
Yet bleedin'
Struggling to find the meanin'
And to make the best of 'freedom'
For many seasons
Battling with my own demons
Hardly ever dreamin'
Poorly I've been sleepin'
In dark waters, I'm deep in
Another bender for a whole week, not just the weekend
A different language I'm speakin'
Girl why haven't we ever been freakin?
I know I can, but can 2 keep it a secret?

Stop looking at me like a heathen
Honestly, I'm not tweakin'
Or creepin'

Too many don't know when to just leave it
Rude and violent far from decent
With power can come corruption wisen up and see it
Quick to say another committed treason
Sometimes evidence and proof is needed
Other times it's mistreatment

Shoutout to my sister in Sweden
I want her to know what an amazing person she is
I'm shining like a beacon
In any region

It's an accurate thesis
Falling to pieces
So quick to get even steven
Bein' conceited
Humans schemin'
Constantly beefin'
And trying to knock another's teeth in
Over nothing or another bad reason
Off others often leechin'
As well as cheatin'
No wonder the lack of cohesion

You'd have to see it
To believe it
I truly mean it

I've been fiendin'
Constantly chiefin'
Dabbin and packing flower making sure to kief it
Making sure there's no sun leaf in
I always drink and drink it helps temporarily then it displeases
Struggling to stop myself once again defeated

Haven't yet fully succeeded
I've got the strangest feelin'
And it's not from geekin'
On me they've been sleepin'
Until I'm no longer breathin'
And my life is depleted
I surely hope the mission is completed
Form: Rhyme


Dear Editor Or Shreditor

Dear Editor or Shreditor
by Michael R. Burch

Dear Ed: I don’t understand why
you will publish this other guy—
when I’m brilliant, devoted,
one hell of a poet!
Yet you publish Anonymous. Fie!

Fie! A pox on your head if you favor
this poet who’s dubious, unsavor-
y, inconsistent in texts,
no address (I checked!):
since he’s plagiarized Unknown, I’ll wager!

Originally published by The Eclectic Muse as "The Better Man"



RISQUE LIMERICKS

Dee Lite Full
by Michael R. Burch 

A cross-dressing dancer, “Dee Lite,”
wore gowns luciferously bright
till he washed them one day
the old-fashioned way ...
in bleach. Now he’s “Sister Off-White.”

The Bender Ender Blender
by Michael R. Burch 

There once was a bubbly bartender,
a transvestite who went on a bender.
“So I cut myself off,”
she cried with a sob,
“There’s the evidence, there in the blender!”

Keywords/Tags: Limerick, Humor, Light Poetry, Parody, Satire, Unknown, Poets, Editors, Humorous, Light Verse, Fun, Funny, Giggle, Editing, Publication, Publish, Publishing, Poet, Poetry, Write, Writing, Anonymous, Plagiarism, Dubious, Text, Texts, Competition, Contest, Acceptance, Rejection Letter, Risque, Naughty, Crude
Form: Limerick

I Need Inner Peace

I owned a bar and I was a successful bartender.
But all of that changed when a customer went on a bender.
He drank too much and I knew that he was in no shape to drive.
If I hadn't sold that much booze to him, three people would still be alive.
He killed those three people when he smashed into their car.
I'm partly responsible so I've decided to destroy my bar.
When I think about those dead people, I feel guilt and sorrow.
A wrecking crew is going to demolish my bar tomorrow.
I can no longer find inner peace even though I search.
I'm donating the land to some people who will build a church.
Donating the land won't make up for my mistake but it will be a start.
I really need to find inner peace because this ordeal is tearing me apart.
I'm moving to another town because the families of the victims want me to go away.
I really hope that God and those families can forgive me someday.

(Even though this poem is fictional, bartenders who sell too much booze to people are partly responsible for drunk driving fatalities.)
Form: Rhyme

Limitations of Power

LIMITATIONS OF POWER 

Mortal men are in different sizes, 
our gifted lives are in phases. 
No lifetime is made to rival another less a tie;
The sky is too large for each not to fly. 
If you're con artist don't try to swindle 
him whose mind is a detective and isn't fickle 
else your ephemeral lights will dwindle. 
If you're the pen, don't battle with my muse
else you spill ink, laying bare masterpiece. 
If you're the devil don't battle a god nor cavil 
except you are the heavenly sequel. 
If you're the MMA star don't battle ISREAL Adesanya
except you're the real style bender. 
If you're illuminati thinking you control the world, 
don't near Faith Generals who embodies God. 
If you're the roost king, don't battle Slim Shady
except you're real Marshall Mathers who's born ready. 
Despite the invention of Baphomet to look bigger, 
Templars won't rage in the face of the Alpha and Omega. 
Every one is king or ruler of their space board 
But we are all lords, lord by One Lord, Our Lord, 
Irrespective of each either being Even or Odd. 

Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP} 
Copyright© 12th November, 2022.
Form: Rhyme

The House of Love

My  little sister we went astray
                     for a short while but on track today
                     we said awful things we didn`t mean
                     but it`s all ok now,it seems

                    We will build back all those bridges
                    and to were we had no ridges
                    true family love is quite a thing
                    and times like this you will see who brings

                    The words of comfort and genuine support
                    at this moment when chrissy`s at court
                    but goes further when the parents concerned
                    have to give up all they have earned
                
                   But you know that i am always here
                   to lend a caring understanding ear
                   try not to worry about things on the agenda
                   `cos all will be ok and we`ll go a bender

                   Then you`s will be able to get back to the norm,free as a  dove
                   there will be a stress free feeling in  the house of love.


Premium Member Touch Tender

Touch tender has now gone extinct
Nobody has the time
Deadened hearts, no longer love inked 
Mankind’s deaf to love’s chime

To be a child again
Devoid of feral stain
Mindful of other’s pain

Mind bender
Touch tender

~~~

Touch tender that once was the norm
Is nowhere to be found
Sharing, caring, endearment warm
Now buried underground

Fast pace makes life a blur
Feeling not love throbs stir
Unless head-head concur

Heart mender
Touch tender

~~~

Touch tender, not felt in a while
Those once close, now distant
So alone we trudge, mile by mile
To love, hearts resistant

We once walked together 
Love the binding tether 
Caring for each other

Love blender 
Touch tender

06-April-2022
Triple Quietus
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Sweetwaters Music Festival

Far off the beaten track and trail
        on quest for music’s Holy Grail
led pilgrims on biblical scale 
         more than can be counted.
With midsummer sun on our cheek
in tents to shelter we did seek
and pitched them at its highest peak
                 on a hilltop mounted

As we climbed the lean of the hill
my beer I would try not to spill
and sat with the great unwashed till
                           olé and adios.
It was I, El Skeet, amigo,
           in my poncho and sombrero 
half-cut like a loco gringo
        who waved “vaya con dios!”

We lit yet another hash bong
 all up in smoke like Cheech & Chong
and passed it to each one along
                 under the cop radars.
Late as corroded brain cells flag
 with every mind trip headfu*k drag 
I tucked in to my sleepin' bag
         on the hill ‘neath the stars

As music and mayhem did rage
back in next summer’s youthful age
we camped closer to the big stage
       all primed for the big show.
I’d sit and watch the crowds go by
      in the hot sun and dust and dry 
under a big Waikato sky
       from our camp on tent row

We ripped into our grog trailer 
         and drank like a drunken sailor
but by nightfall lookin' paler
              yet in the crowd I went.
Waitin' for Cold Chisel that night
      with a superdoob glowin' bright
I was fu*kin’ high as a kite
      and lurched back to my tent

The next day I woke in a daze
and walked off my drunken malaise
when I heard singin' songs of praise
         in some weird sh*t I saw.
Tambourine hippies, punks and geeks
and chantin' Hari Krishna freaks
  burnt incense in clay painted cheeks
          so I got high some more

Yet in a hot wet and wild hour
            stoned in the unisex shower
I gazed many a sweet flower
          in their naked splendour.
We bathed too in waters that flowed
down where the lazy river bowed
lest my head spontaneous explode
          on my three day bender

That night by the stars we were led
as above a smoky sky bled
when out The Enz rocked “I See Red”
           and fired a burnin' flare.
In the spirit of Sweetwaters
     we lived among at close quarters
sons of Bacchus and his daughters
         and I, El Skeet, was there!


    Written: November 2009
Form: Lyric

Premium Member If I Could Talk To the Aussies

I have a couple of internet Friends in Australia
We like to joke around some, so I wrote them this,
To the tune of "Talk To The Animals"  (Dr. Dolittle)


If I could talk to the Aussies
just imagine it
Babbling to a Bloke, in Blokaneses
Imagine Bantering with Bludgers
Chatting to a Cobber
What a neat achievement that would be

If I could talk to the Aussies
Learn all their dialects
Maybe get an Aussie slang degree
I'd study Cone Toad and Dag
Galah, Dill and Bag
And of course Ab-bor-rid-gin-e

I would parle in Punter and Piker
And would curse in fluent Kangaroo

If i'm asked , "Can you speak 'Banana Bender' "
I'ld say "Both Genders, can't you"

If I could talk to the Aussies, learn their languages
Think of all the things we'd disagree  
If I could walk with the Aussies
Talk to an Aussies
Slang and Bang and hang with an Aussies
And they could Slang
                          and Bang
                                  and Hang
                                         with  Me !

Premium Member Dickens' Other Christmas Story

Jingle bells
and reindeer smells -- 
note to Mrs. Clause: 

before Eve-trip, to reduce
scent and slip, no beer
and sardines for Rudolph!

That damn Guiding Red-nose
needs to find other fuel for
his radiant beam-glows! (takes a lot
to piss-off Santa)
 
It was a foul dilemma: 

Every time Dancer, Donner and Blitzen 
rose, Santa was forced to awkwardly stretch and
pinch each tortured, dutiful nose; poor deer, eyes 
stinging and runny (not the least bit funny) 
(Rudolph laughing like a ridiculous fool) (Santa 
thinking, next year, to take his place, perhaps a 
levitating green-schnoz mule)

fumes causing the team to terribly
blink -- every inch higher, a half inch 
lower the sled would breathlessly sink -- 

Note to Mrs. Clause: especially disallow, 
one last huge, gulp for the long cold road -- that
parting toast proved particularly disastrous to Santa's 
precious gift load, 
                  when the old saint paused to 
light his pipe: Rudolf let loose with
one extraordinarily ripe -- when the match was
struck, ignited the night, flaming presents needing
no additional lift to literally take brilliant flight -- 

A Christmas to remember
when Rudolf went on a Sardine, Beer
Bender.

Two Thousand and Three

My years grow larger, faster
after the
age of twenty one, insurance
dropped
lower
quicker, even after my
fender
bender.
On that twenty first day
Twenty
two
two thousand and two, a year
unsuccessful
unambitious,
Mostly that is.
By the end 
I gathered my priorities,
Became an independent king.
Met a girl
Elizabeth
Spanish
Latin queen. 
Still to this day
she haunts my dreams.
Before me, she was 
with a she
together, a pair of queens
I, her first guy. 
cohabitation, compromise. 
After dissolution,
our rugged eighteen months,
she left me 
for her queen
this heartless sex fiend 
Faithful to me till the end of 
Two thousand 
Three...

Jared Pickett.......04'

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