Long Blonde Poems
Long Blonde Poems. Below are the most popular long Blonde by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Blonde poems by poem length and keyword.
Jeremiah 10 OH oh christmas tree oh christmas tree how have you lied to thee
santa claus is a black man jesus is white with blonde hair and blue eyes
how much longer must we listen to these ridiculous lies???
God is love God is good God is great
but i bet you didnt know that God can hate!!(Malachi 1:2-3)
you say open your heart come to God come to truth
but did you know your God delights in destroying you?(Deuteronomy 28:63)
you celebrate christmas and easter as if it were so
but the devil has kept you out of the loop out of the know
two calendar months were added to the year
ignorance of the truth is no different than fear
july for julius ceasar and august for augustus ceasar complete this revolution
but you believe in the pagan traditions with no proof or absolution
september was the seventh month
october was the eighth
november was the ninth
december was the tenth
do you still believe dec 25 was the day jesus was sent?
the bible says they have eyes but can not see and ears but can not hear (Ezekiel 12:2)
ignorance of the truth is no different than fear
you give gifts once a year and celebrate his birth
he died for all our sins is that all that he is worth?
you love to nail the law of moses to the cross
and in doing so youre sending a message saying the message is lost
jesus didnt come to abolish the law he came to fulfill them (Matthew 5:17)
but it is the devil in you that is determined to conceal them
Ezekiel 12:2
"Son of man, you are living among a rebellious people. They have eyes to see but do not see and ears to hear but do not hear, for they are a rebellious people
Deuteronomy 28:63
Just as it pleased the LORD to make you prosper and increase in number, so it will please him to ruin and destroy you.
Malachi 1:2-3
. “Yet I have loved Jacob 3 but Esau I have hated. I have laid waste his hill country and left his heritage to jackals
Matthew 5:17
Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.
She was one good looking chick
Straight out of Vogue, or a Spiderman flick
Her back was straight, she had that glow
Blonde hair, green eyes, healthy head to toe
And she had a fixation, that fixation was me
My heart jumped, I wanted to agree
But then I realized the attraction was an illusion
An evolution induced mental confusion
To exist our genes need reproduction
So they evolved romance, not to mention seduction.
I looked at her and thought "she may look great.
but she's descended from a monkey, a large-brained primate
And though what I feel may be infatuation
Internally, it's just a mental computation.
"Take away the hair, color the eyes brown
Remove your species privilege, you'll feel like a clown
Internal opiates, and a hormonal stew,
Without internal messengers, what is she to you?
So said to her "Babe, go back to your former beau"
Wasn't he Jimmy the knife, and wasn't his life low?
I just can't date you, after thinking out loud
I've lost the mystery, it's all a pall and a shroud
No romantic haze, no mystical link
The magic left your gaze, I'm just left to overthink.
She replied, "My Dad's is Vinny "the vacuum" Vortellini:
You say no to me, he'll make you into Linguini
You're my choice, and you must understand
Your opinion doesn't matter, you're mired in quicksand.
I looked at her again, I saw the psychopath beneath
But oh, that blonde hair, those eyes, and those perfect teeth!
I'm just a primate too, I realized inside.
So I jumped out the window and committed suicide.
So all you men, you need to comprehend
A lovely woman can bring an untimely end
It's all a trick perpetuated by DNA
You must transcend nature's imperative and disobey!
We are a tragic species caught between biology and mind
Don't let nature interfere, don't let instincts bind.
She relaxed into the hourglass of her mind
Safely hidden from those who would hate her
Not for what she had done
Or for who she was
But simply for her ethnicity
Or her skin color
Or her blonde hair
Or because she belonged to that family….
She relaxed into her imaginary world
Safely squired away into herself,
Enjoying peace of mind
Silence of heart
Bliss of doing only what she wanted
Unencumbered by friends
Who would want something
Want to take her time
Stealing her energy
Stealing her power
She relaxed into her soul
Enjoying her freedom
Freedom to spend her days
Doing what she wanted
Exactly when she wanted to do it
Without being bogged down by those
Who would try to take her happiness away
Through selfish pursuits of their own.
It’s nice to have some holiday downtime and not be all go-go-go. I’ve even gotten in some Animal Crossing play. After 40 minutes of picking up weeds, Bianca, one of my villagers, told me she’d heard I was dead.
Later, we’re in Lisa’s living room taking turns playing songs from Spotify.
Lisa just played “Woo”, by Rihanna. When the song ends, fading out, Leeza deadpan said, “That song is pure evil.”
“You guys, I forgot to mention it but that is my energy song, it makes me feel so HOT.” Lisa adds with a chuckle.
“It has an evil vibe,” I admit. “An evil vibe,” Leeza confirms.
“Don’t be judging,” Lisa reminds us.
“Your next,” Lisa said, nodding to Leeza, “What’ve you got for us,” she speculates, “some mental health rock?”
Leeza’s had this girl-punk-rock group called “Vancougar” playing on a loop in her room. At first, I wasn’t enthusiastic but now I think they slay. Her mom’s even gotten on board, dancing “the twist” to “Philadelphia” when it rolls around. Leeza has great taste in music although she leans a bit EMO (emotionally hard core) for me. She makes me feel old by introducing us to all these new bands like “Youngest and only,” “Calling all Captains” and “Beatrice Dear.”
“I’ve got one song to play,” Leeza says, “Paparazzi, by Lady Gaga.”
“I’ve been listening to that song all WEEK!” I gasp, “I love that song, it may be her best - that’s so random,” I finish saying as the song starts.
As Paparazzi ends Lisa says, “That song has major Gwen Stefani vibes.”
“It DOES,” I agree, “It could be “Cool” or “Sweet Escape.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Leeza agreed, “shoutout to No Doubt.”
Leeza says, “I have a conversation topic: What’s something we all acknowledge is cheugy but we still do anyway?”
“Being blonde,” I say, which gets stitches of laughter because it’s true and Lisa and I are.
“That’s true, that’s fair,” redheaded Leeza laughs. “Anyone blonde is dead to me,” which gets her a pillow in the face.
“Ok, I’m going to come for a lot of people,” Lisa says, “but yogurt, yogurt is cheugy.”
Leeza gasps, “You think yogurt.. It’s not cheugy!” she practically yells, “It gives MOM.”
.
.
slang..
cheugy = something off-trend, or behind in an awkward way - millennial, but not fully vintage.
gives mom = a comfort activity
Oh what a predicament as we sped through the night,
A whole train stretched behind us without a single light,
And through the thin walls we could plainly hear
The threats being shouted from both front and rear.
The long blonde squaddie, whose name I can’t recall
Nervously panicked because he’d caused it all.
An urgent call of nature on a compartmented train
Solved by opening a window to pass water in the rain;
But he removed a fitted bulb, modesty being his plan
And fused the whole lot behind with a very loud bang
Leading to this very tense and worrying situation
As the train drew ever nearer to Victoria Station.
One hell of a fizzer for damaging a train,
Maybe another for peeing in the rain,
The trouble only worsening after release
From the railway to the military police.
And maybe, on top, some demotion
For having caused such commotion.
When it arrived thank the lord much confusion arose
As we hit the platform running and away on our toes
As from behind we heard a very loudly voice say
That’s where they went as he pointed the wrong way;
So we mingled with the crowd having slowed to a walk
And joining in freely with all the discontented talk.
The gods must have smiled on us to allow us to go
To celebrate in Trafalgar Square and later on in Soho.
We all joined hands there in the crowded square
To sing Auld Lang Syne with those gathered there.
A night to remember, New Years Eve 1964
All much too old now for such excitement any more.
this autumn air
leaves me gasping
in the depth
of thoughts
i scrape frost
from windshields
on mornings
that resemble
your heart
the wind
carries the tune
of unsung lullabies
better than you
some days you linger
like october's leaves
the trails of my pain
spiraling in these winds
our eyes meet
in the mirror
as i drive along
trying to forget you
bleached blonde beauty
your glamour
only ran skin deep
i saw the truth seep
in the roots
of auburn drab
i've grown my layers out
even tried to scribble color
in darker tones
to regain myself
yet it always fades
back to platinum
sometimes i despise
looking at you
in the mirror
looking back at me
sometimes
i want to find me
without you
because you make me
dislike what a see
you make me
hate myself
just like you
seemed to
i wonder
does it make you
stand proud
knowing
you still
can kill me
even in death
your hold
chokes
She was the prettiest doll in the whole world,
Elegant, stunning, waist-less, buxom,
Curves all over the place,
No straight lines.
Shocking for a child’s toy
Shocking for 1959.
Mattel was by far
Ahead of their time.
Marilyn Monroe and
Jane Mansfield were
Our pin-up girls.
This was way before
We demanded to be
Called women so we
Could feel equal to men.
We were still “girls” then,
But not for much longer
We lived in a fantasy world,
Our Barbies and we.
Barbie was blonde, brunette,
Redhead. Her hair was bobbed,
Ponytailed, straightened, and beaded.
She was the only doll we wanted,
And we all wanted her.
Barbie did not stand alone.
We had to have a trunk to
Put all of her clothes in.
Her tiny high heels were
Darling, plastic, a variety
Of colors.
Grandmas and Mamas all over
The world were sewing Barbie
Clothes as fast as they could.
The tiny waist was a problem
Velcro could have fixed,
But Velcro had not been
Invented yet.
I have twenty thousand
Pinterest pins that prove
That today, fifty-nine years
Later, Barbie is no doubt
the most popular doll
and always in
Style.
We have mermaid Barbies,
Cowgirl Barbies, Madame
President Barbies, Magician
Barbies, and Barbies from every
Nation, country and continent.
Yes, Mattel, you did well.
Very well indeed.
How blonde he was! How smooth was his veneer!
My poor heart raced whenever he was near.
He was a wizard! His blue crystal eyes,
if fixed on mine, would surely hypnotize!
Did I turn crimson when he gazed on me
those first few times before obscurity
became my lot? How many months I pined
for something sweet I wished with him to find!
He’d wanted me! That was no masquerade.
Yet later, no attention was I paid.
He grew aloof and turned his face away,
while not opaque, my heart before him lay.
HIS heart was ebony and hard as coal.
I had to suture mine because my soul
felt close to death. Years passed. . . I chanced to see
him, but his eyes, cold glass, sliced right through me.
Dedicated to Chris F.
Okay! Okay, just gimme a minute, or maybe even two.
It's just like you to pull up a chair just so I can sit next to you.
But I know you well enough not to fuss about anything at all.
Or
You will holler and hoot and act like a pouty faced doll.
Googling slime lids! Not salads once again; no not today!
Every food day is full of special green covered goon hay:(
You must feel really smart, eating fancy food that tastes like grass picked right off of the plains.
And the dreadfully endless tongue twisting, chew spitting and trying to pronounce all the intellectualized names.
You're evermore unflattering food names make everything I say, sound so rude; who!
But seriously though dude, it's not like I am obligated to eat with you; few!
But all of that sounds so bland, like organic sugar free maple syrup covered in fresh beach gathered sand.
So I promise I'll be a good little guest and wash my sweet syrup beach blonde maple colored hands.
If I wasn't being spoiled rotten or being tortured by nice,
You may have noticed our WAITER just drop off some cranberry ice.
You didn't know about juice flavored ice from Dwin?
I thought everyone knew about my fidgeting twin, named Lynn from the fruit flavored Iceland of Dwin.
I mean common, she's out of town, why else would I have this extra chair to sit in?
I brought cash so just forget about your half of the tip, I couldn't help myself indeed; as I ate all of your Doll-Yapper seeds.
They too are native to Dwin and beat the greens off your funky salad twin and beans.
Honestly though, I only sat down here for some strange on the clock fun.
And aside from being Debra Downer, (my real name), I Got paid to pull up a chair to relax and sit on my buns!
END
May 18, 2017
The neighborly thing to do would be
to ask them over for a drink, those
four lovely blondes living next door.
But I know they would refuse - it
may not be Christian of them to
drink alcohol. Perhaps I should offer
them lemonade. No Kool Ade, thank you;
ever since Jim Jones I never mix it
with religion.
Anyway, they look
more like the Perrier types. I'll
put out my Bible and tune the radio
to the inoffensive Muzak station.
As long as the conversation on
religion stays generic, it might actually
go ok. I may get on quite well with
the flour blonde-haired Jesus girls.
I doubt there will be any real close
encounters between the sinner
and the saints, but you never know.
I'm gold God works in mysterious ways.