Long Bens Poems
Long Bens Poems. Below are the most popular long Bens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bens poems by poem length and keyword.
I got my mind on my money and money on my mind/
Cat scan if you like you'll tell I ain't lying/
Verse One
Money is all I know all I see and remember/
From January to December I'm about seeing my figure/
From big Bens down to the pennies and nickles/
I want it all, you can call me a penny pincher/
Pennies for my thoughts add to a couple million/
I paint a perfect picture money stacked taller than buildings/
Everybody getting money, me and my minions/
It's a domino effect because all of us getting it/
I can be a billionaire and still won't go in my pockets/
I never understood it ain't tricking if you got it/
If I gotta throw mines then I guess I don't got it/
I ain't never been that type I want all of my profit/
Money hard to come by my momma not a doctor/
My dad is not a lawyer, and my uncle is not a rockstar/
but I'm trying to rock hard so I want it all/
And when it comes to the money, I'ma get it till I fall/
Verse Two
From being locked in the Penitentiary, I learned the value of money/
Because when I was dead broke it wasn't close to funny/
But I never been a dummy and I always had a hustle/
BY any means necessary, I'ma get something/
Everyday, I think of different ways to try and make a dollar/
And making my own money, I'm proud of/
Women wanna holla, dudes wanna be prostitutes/
Because they think I hit the lottery since I got a lil bread/
But really I'm just popping because the charts be topping/
And they think that I'm dropping but they outta their heads/
I get out of bed, thinking, money, money, money/
My palms steady itching so I know it's coming/
They told me if they hating on me then I'm doing something/
Because if I wasn't doing something, my name wouldn't be humming/
But I'm only worrying about the only thing on my mind/
And the only thing on my mind, is on it all the time/
This is the first in a trilogy of poems that comprise the first 2 years of big bens career as the Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback so sit back and enjoy.
I was at my favorite sports bar
Rooting on my favorite team
They were playing hard
Up on the big widescreen
The quarterback is the new guy
Still wet behind the ears
But each veteran he's played
He's sent away in tears
Our running backs are awesome
The best in the whole darn league
But when duce can't get it done
The bus drives through the other team
Our wide receivers Plax and ward
Know how to help us win
Now when they catch the ball
I crack a cheerful grin
Our defense is an iron wall
These guys are made of steel
When they finish with the other team
They think they'll lose their meal
We've won our whole division
We've also clinched the bye
To the Superbowl they're bound
It's there we'll do ore die
We'd better win that game
Or it'll have been a steel
The only way we'll lose
Is if we're deal a royal deal
Then I'd be heart broken
Without a bit of cheer
But I wouldn't let it show
I'd say we'll win next year
I know that won't happen
I can feel it in my bones
It's the other team you'll hear
Give out those fearless groans
So the next time you're a rooting
For your favorite team
Unless it's the Pittsburgh Steelers
It doesn't mean a thing
Erin Go Bragh
At Ben Bulben’s feet Sligo stands,
The home of such creative hands
Where poet William Yeats did grow.
The Nobel Prize his poems did know.
On my trip to this emerald isle,
I yearned to visit a long while.
As sun poured through the misty sky,
Shedding warmth with its golden eye,
I stood beside the lough in awe
At dancing diamonds that I saw
Near Connemara’s tall twelve bens
O’er lands of ancient souls that wends.
I sense their haunting watchful eyes
And feel my roots where rivers rise.
I hear their voices lost at sea,
They echo on eternally;
As with the thousands who took flight
During the worst potato blight.
Their sadness streams across the seas
Where most souls died with unheard pleas.
Those sad and tragic days long past,
And Erin’s joys returned at last
To verdant Lee and sandy shores,
To music heard across the moors,
To people with the kindest hearts,
Is what this isle to me imparts.
Repost from © 2013
*Erin go bragh means "Ireland Forever"
*lough means a lake
*Ben means Irish, a mountain peak
Happy St. Patrick's Day Everyone!
My thanks to this wonderful website:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VAviOxkIhXE
Away back in time many centuries ago,
In the land that I live and know best,
Things were not quite so easy,
You struggled and life was a test,
A man would do all he had to,
Survival the name of the game,
Be it cheat, steal or murder,
Every mans rules were the same,
Rob Roy MacGregor's no exception,
Him and his Clan full of men,
Usually dealing in cattle,
They'd take them wherever and when,
They'd move them on for many a day,
Down through the hills and the glens,
Bedding down on sweet heather,
Shadowed by the great Scottish Bens,
They'd stop off at friendly wee homesteads,
Perhaps have a meal and a dram,
Maybe take up some shelter,
Till the weather was better and calm,
Leave a beast for the poor and the hungry,
For the Winter that's heading their way,
Not as bad as his reputation,
'A fine man MacGregor', they'd say,
Eventually getting to market,
They'd get the best price for their beasts,
Have a few days drinking in Stirling,
With wenches and having great feasts,
Then back through the hills,
And the glens they would go,
Stealing a beast here and there,
Rob Roy MacGregor and his Clan full of men,
When life was survival not fair....
At Ben Bulben’s feet Sligo stands
The home of such creative hands
Where poet William Yeats did grow.
The Nobel Prize his poems did know.
On my trip to this emerald isle,
I yearned to visit a long while.
As sun poured through the misty sky
Shedding warmth with its golden eye,
I stood beside the lough in awe
At dancing diamonds that I saw
Near Connemara’s tall twelve bens
O’er lands of ancient souls that wends.
I sense their haunting watchful eyes
And feel my roots where rivers rise.
I hear the voices lost at sea,
They echo on eternally;
As with the thousands who took flight
During the worst potato blight.
Their sadness streams across the seas
Where most souls died with unheard pleas.
Those sad and tragic days long past,
And Erin’s joys returned at last
To verdant Lee and sandy shores
To music heard across the moors,
To people with the kindest hearts
Is what this isle to me imparts.
© 2013
*Erin go bragh means Ireland Forever
*lough means a lake
*Ben means Irish, a mountain peak
There are new times in America today, does theology come into play? To blame U.S. policy
is not the way.
Can we prove a nation standing as one, inflict more damage than a suicidal minion.
History tells a story to all that bens an ear, in the end will our history end with a tear.
Not one of sanctity oh god we pray that you here, people pray to thee in fear; is the end
near?
A city kid sees the world as a nuclear village, young and angry rebels they begin to pillage.
Looking deep into the pit of the human sole is the lack of the human spirit missing as a
whole. I think not…
A slow breakdown in the big city cast an ominous shadow of destruction on many.
Two massive structures heap in death casting a shadow no more, time is a gift we all want
more, to sore into the light of the evermore.
Is it our destiny what we accomplish and nothing more, but horror and hell, the smell of
death and war?
James C Bryant Jr.
November 26, 2001
It was in Westland that I met this barmaid,
She looked fragile,and complexed with manifestations of excellence,
That very night I sat exactly after four seperated bevies nailing myself to eminence,
Kindly when she served me a bottle of drink,
I spotlighted her beauty towards higher regard,though she saw herself as a fink,
Frankly,what I was seeing in her had a prospective blink,
This lady was pitch-black,
Framed in reality,she was an erudite and not a yack,
With inner pattern deemed with confidence,
I made her to believe the first sight attraction she spread out in alpha mense,
And she divided her lips into structure of my hopeful bens,
What came after that late night is when we're now couples on honey moon,
And I just can't match our excitements to what feelings intends to move,
Only when our personalities are commune and tied with a strong single loop,
Because,your presence has outlined the eyes of my heart to hold you in my room.
A misty Scottish gale blows fierce
From the grey that clouds the hills
I step onto her western way
Desolate, damp and chilled
Her grasses grow brown and lavender
Stretching as far as I can see
While Hill tops and the horizon
Lead me deep into a peaty sea
From the banks of black Loch Tula
At the base of rocky Bens,
I walk this winding pathway
Bearing forward to Ba bridge
I stop to survey the ruins
That were once, hardier than I
And climb up to a mountain's pass
with Glencoe in my sights
The Buachaille and Beinn a' Chrulaiste
Towers high out from the fog
Herding me towards the gateway
Of the Glen and from the bog
And yet that cold wind continues
Against me all the while
And the rain blows much harder
Urging me to turn away
But the Highland call has taken me
From far enough away
That I see the moor's true beauty
Even on this rainy day.
Don't get confused on what's really green. The henna........the trees.....the herb....the eyes......money isn't green, it's as dark as the evil it possesses , how greedy it makes us , all of us. Couldn't possibly picture happy life without the....don't need things to crave them. One taste of a dead president will have your life spiraling into a closet of give and take that takes and never gives. The cycle that replaces life. Green is the green that is green to the eye. Touch soul. Love is green. Smoke love touch the soul. Let it curl and embrace your insides till it's fuzzy fingers massage your scalp and release the blood back into your body. Don't let the paper over rule the plant. Mary is here , we don't need the bens and franklins. Earth gives us what we are. Weed give ourselves what we want. We'ed gives ourselves what we need.
Oh, can you hear that jingle
You can tell it by its smell
Your skin begins to tingle
And you feel like you're in hell
The "Benjamins" just bit you
Got that look of dull surprise
Your shopping list won't fit you
Cuz, everything fits your eyes
When passing by the store
All those bells begin to ring
Then you're thru the open door
And you'll try on anything
It's time for all consumers
To say hello to Barter
Put down those ugly bloomers
Might make you look much smarter
Oh, can't you hear him holler
He's a devil in disguise
But, what good is that dollar
When there's pennies on your eyes
It's goodbye to "Uncle Bens"
I can't say that I'll miss you
I just pray this madness ends
But, most just can't resist you