Long Bill Poems
Long Bill Poems. Below are the most popular long Bill by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bill poems by poem length and keyword.
Come by the Sword, Die by the Sword
They stood in ranks a thousand long
High upon the hill
The Roman legion, fierce and strong
With sword and lance and bill
The Briton hoards below them stare
With wild fanatic eyes
They jeer the foe and beg them dare
With anger and despise
Come and fight you cowardly foe
Come and meet your fate
We’ll cut you down, row by row
Send you to heavens gate
With scoff and scorn the Romans yawn
What empty threats you speak
We’ll rip you limb from limb this morn
You’re scrawny, thin and weak
Down below, laughter roars
Your bellies, we will slice
We’ll lay you dead, in your scores
Come prove your men not mice
We will arrive and make you pay
For indolence and taunt
You will eat every word you say
When they come back to haunt
It’s easy up on high to gloat
But everybody knows
It’s our intent to cut each throat
And leave you for the crows
But when we make our move towards
There’ll be no shy nor rests
We’ll plunge our sharp and bloody swords
Deep in those ragbag chests
Think of your girlfriends, mothers, wives
For them there’ll be no gains
Will be, as we, cut short their lives
When we spill out your brains
For one last time you’ll see the sky
Cause you’re not leaving whole
When heathen head is raised up high
On legion victory pole
Gasp deep upon your final breath
Invader of our land
Your destiny this day is death
By rude and brutish hand
With sword and lance and bill
All break into their stride
With voices booming still
Blood fills the wide divide
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
, , , , ,
March forward to today
Though forces re-arranged
And ask them in what way
Anything has changed
We sat in the dark on the edge of our couch
Someone scrunched closer, giving me a bit of an ouch
It was the paw of my dog, whose eyes were big too
Next to him was his cat friend, we call her Old Blue
My teenage sister was sitting close to her boyfriend Bill
They were told I could not watch scary movies, and still….
Here I was on a Friday night watching blood come out of a drain.
I was screaming and thrashing, this horror movie was pain!
Take it easy said my sis, her boyfriend put his arm around me.
I felt a bit safer, but could not look at the black and white TV.
The next scream was my sister’s, and I was glad of that.
My parents came home and turned the TV off in seconds flat.
Today i went to Iceland
The supermarket not the place
Trying to find a short queue
Turns into a race
Elderly lady at the back
Tries to jump the queue
Those further forward voice their anger
“Hey, we were here before you”
The lady shrugs her shoulders
With two trifles in her hand
Standing ages just for that
Wasn’t what she had planned
Trolley at the front of the queue
Contains enough food to feed an army
Woman says “Most of it will get thrown away”
Queue looks at her as if she’s barmy
Small boy in a pushchair
Clamouring for his sweets
His mother says he'll have to wait
They're under the cooked meats
Man with a tray of lager
Legs buckling under the weight
He says they're for his party
From seven tonight until late
Someone gets tired of waiting
Puts her goods back on the shelf
She mumbles she's going to Asda
Where she can serve herself
Girl in the queue decides
She'll use her phone to pay her bill
The checkout girl says into her mike
“Can you open another till?”
Lager man gets restless
Drops his tray of cans on the floor
Pushes his way to the front of the queue
And dashes out through the door
The small boy thinks he’s waited
Long enough for his sweets
So he reaches out to the check-out
And helps himself to treats
The mother sees what he has done
And snatches back the loot
So the small boy retaliates
With a kick from his right foot
The queue is getting longer
And tempers start to tray
I put my basket on the floor
I’ll go back another day
I look out into the scorching sun
The treeless expanse is no fun
An expressway they are making
Disinterest in pedestrians they're not faking
The dust blows right into your face
As soil laden dumpsters against time, race
I am waiting for the bill "we must all pay"
As the kick-back takers like to say
Without them we could not hope for this belt
Our unmet need the politicians really felt
Planners and surveyors studied the road less, travelled
As our debt burden out of control, unravelled
They are on site as we speak
Cheek by jowl with the hoi polloi meek
How many have nots will ascend to use this expressway?
How many generations of children for it will pay?
Sometimes, I physically feel unable to clean my room.
Not because I’m lazy, or disorganized.
Rather, because as I’m sitting cross legged on my floor, with various papers, trinkets, awards, and possessions around me
I just can’t find anything worth discarding.
My pink monkey plush, it’s stuffing spilling out?— no, that was the plush he gave me.
My frayed bracelet, adorned with beads representing each of the seven planets?— no, it’s a representation of the best point in my life.
Each item serves as a trophy— a prize I’ve unlocked for every chapter of my life.
I want to lock it up in an exhibit, for others to curiously peer into, attempting to connect the dots of my life using a broken hair tie, a crumpled two dollar bill, and a big green teddy bear.
I got told a joke this morning
It really made me smile
So I thought I would share it on poetry soup
But in my own unique poetry style
A lady went to the dentist
She sat in the dentist’s chair
She was feeling really nervous
She wished she wasn’t there
The dentist thought he would put her at ease
As he put on his rubber gloves
He told her a little fictional story
Of a Canadian rubber glove factory
Into vats of latex the employees dip their hands
Big hands, medium hands and small, all the workers think its grand
They peel them off when they are dry
And into labelled boxes the rubber gloves lie
The dentist works on her teeth for a while
The lady doesn’t move or crack a smile
Finally the dentistry work is complete
The old lady arises from her seat
She gets on her coat and pays her bill
There is something on her mind still…..
Do they use male staff to produce condoms in a similar way?
The dentist laughed and said have a nice day
Jan Allison
25th April 2014
Corruption seeks power.
Destruction kills.
Survival at your own will.
Changing lanes.
Turning the wheel.
Focused on the road.
In time wombs heal.
On the real.
Dark clouds.
Cold chill.
So many dying over that
Mean Green dollar bill.
For surviving families I feel.
It's like the world is cursed.
For the wisdom we thirst.
From the beginning was taught
to love God first.
Life has gone
From bad to worst.
So many dying on this Earth.
Is it really worth the hurt.
Demons in disguise in the church.
Wicked from birth.
Families crying in sorrow.
Praying for a better tomorrow.
Hearts hollow.
The agonies to deep
to swallow.
Loud cries that echo
to the sounds of silence.
Not thinking of the
consequences of
reoccurring violence.
Knocking on Heaven's door.
Devil's screaming for more.
The plan is more pain.
That's what he has in store.
He knocks.
One, two, three, four.
A mask of innocence.
That's what he wore.
I'd rather ignore.
Devil beware.
You're no longer welcomed here.
Praying to my Father.
My prayers, he only hears.
Pouring out my soul.
As the Angels cheer.
God is near.
Tired of taking the wrong path
in the wrong gear.
Ask Father God to steer.
For Eternity erase my
Endless tears.
Heavenly Destiny
Eighty years ‘the rule of order’ held sway
World leaders acted a pre-scripted way
“Novus ordo seclorum” *
Cried the G-7 forum **
Donald Trump’s taught us a new way to play!
_________________________________________________
*"A new world order," in Latin... Btw, this is on
the back of every one-dollar bill.
**The recently completed 'G-7 Forum' was
a summit meeting of seven leading Western
economic powers, including the USA, France,
Germany, Italy, etc.
Friday the thirteenth, (September
tooth house hind nineteen)
dark shadows winessed scads of bats
(base sic cully lobbing soupy Matzo balls)
eyeing yours truly as seldom seen
human sacrificial cuisine,
which dime a dozen story true story
red within tabloid National Enquirer 'zine.
Minus blood sucking mammals more averse
than bill collectors or insurance companies
bared fangs greeted yours truly courtesy
of bloodthirsty nurse
triggering instantaneous qualm
ordinarily, I dune hot feel averse
nor nain availing one arm or the other,
wherein needle tip doth stick
prominent vein, yet an idling hearse
unwittingly induced heightened alarm,
on flip Wilson side... sense and sensibility
awoke regarding no impact upon purse
anyway death could never as worse
compared to hand to mouth
dirty deeds done... dirt poor curse.
A deep inhalation induced relaxed state
courtesy ujjayi breath
filled lungs to alleviate
(yea right slim/fat chance analogous
to one sniveling, mutering, groveling...
writer wannabe called upon to curate)
quirky rhyming scribblings
attempting to pass muster
easily, joyfully, worthily...
declared poet laureate
hence hastily erected castle
in the sky fate
meeting divine heavenly lorded
tailor tete a tete
gradually alleviated helter skelter
mental condition within pate
experienced sudden calm
displaced initial panic, thus great
ecstasy donned "FAKE" trumpeting guise
knowing within short shrift
death would assimilate
me, while providing fancy feast
where Desmodontinae
would undulate
this vampire weekend,
aware I prevaricate
and horrible anecdote purely
meant to demonstrate
how believability easily
wrought to fascinate
(ha) captive audience,
he/she exhibiting skeptical trait
might doubt claim (mine), who as inmate
within human zoo forced to risk death
defying daredevil metier height
figurative tightrope walker I gyrate
balanced on iambic foot in toto
all the while able to coordinate
vaguely flowing continuity
eventually metaphorical
erythrocytes coagulate.
The Sparrow
by Positive Mark
Torch-burnt quills never offer apology.
Scorched earth policies revive a dead polity.
Force fed intellects give rise to economy.
Those who don’t fit, I advise you to follow me.
First, let’s pay homage to walls that were climbed.
Put in the time, and you’ll shine like Coach Prime.
Kill or be killed at the devil’s insistence.
If you lack fortitude, strike from a distance.
Fiery orators once fit the bill.
Now, they’re a hallowed list of confirmed kills.
Dead at the podium.
Dead on the balcony.
Genocide rhymes have become the new alchemy.
Armies of men show their butt on the street.
Reeks of an old auction, selling Black meat.
Honest comedians cancelled for jokes.
This is the new definition of woke.
Now higher frequency thought has been shattered.
Shirts weren’t printed when Black lives still mattered.
No reparations for cultural rape.
Modern day poets ain’t bustin’ a grape.
Torches on quills that were once burning arrows.
Who watches you, when his eye’s on the sparrow?