Long Bobby Poems
Long Bobby Poems. Below are the most popular long Bobby by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bobby poems by poem length and keyword.
If it was not for¡¦
Beyonce Irreplaceable, I would not have put his bags out and told him he must
not know about me! Because if it was not¡¯t for Destiny¡¯s Child, I would not be
asking him was She the reason he start acting funny
He was telling me I was tripping and like Gucci Gucci I told him B.... I Might Be¡¦
Therefore, like Keyshia Cole I had to Let Him Go!
Every since I let him go¡¦like my inspiration You Couldn¡¯t Tell Me Nothing and I
was hitting the clubs Bottle Poppin¡¦Sh!t I was Remy Ma cuz I was FRESH 2
Death¡¦
Therefore, for him and my haters I told yal I was gon 2 bump like this¡¦
If you ever felt like this in the words of my Idol Keyshia, I¡¯m Just Like YOU¡¦.
Part 2
I am so glad that I found my Angel listening to Bobby V¡¦. I felt like Lil Wayne when
you told me I can be you judge¡¦So Nasty wit it!
Sometimes I feel like Alicia, I wish that we could be together more to cherish our
time and you can hug me as if You will never see me again...
In the words of Mary J, we will be Just fine, because you taught me you are just
like Mario and you are Crying out for me while listening to my heart
I am so glad that you CC all those other girls around town and You choose me 3
stacks¡¦.
So now, we can make love in the Mirror like Neyo¡¦If anything goes wrong we can
Make it like is was like Pretty Ricky.
In the end like Avant and Keke theirs nothing in the world I would not do for you
boy¡¦Good thing I listened to Lloyd and opened up my eyes and seen that you are
they One for me. Therefore, I am going to take Ciara¡¯s advice and Promise that
I will never ever hurt you¡¦because you are My Boo.
So I will flash my Promise Ring everywhere I go¡¦Damn I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU!
Part 3
Can you really Put it Down like T-Pain, and get it Poppin with our Nasty Grind¡¦
Just Say It! You are Addicted to Sex like Neyo¡¦
Just because you are such a Seduction¡¦.I Can¡¯t Leave you Alone¡¦
Like Plies I am happy to be yo Shawty¡¦even tho you told me once you put it down
I was gone be stuck¡¦
I am Sorry, so therefore you can put the Blame On Me...
As, Pretty Ricky would say I want you to Stay a little bit longer
Because I am going to Suffocate without you¡¦cuz, you know exactly How I like it
So go back and tell yo friends that you chick said hello cuz I know THEY KNOW¡¦.
¢¾ Mz.Liscious
12/18/2007
Form:
A Saturday morning in June on a sunny day,
three hundred villagers were in the town square today.
For two hours, all the children, each man and his wife,
made a choice amongst themselves to sacrifice a life
While the grass was growing green with the flowers in bloom,
one person in town would soon be encountering doom.
Some big piles of stones were gathered up by every boy;
Bobby Martin, the Jones boys, and Dickie Delacroy.
As mixed conversations percolated all around,
Mr. Summers and the black box were soon to be found.
This object was very old and showed much splintering,
after being used many years for this offering
Mr. Summers asked the town for a new edition.
They turned him down, not wanting to break with tradition.
With much of the ritual forgotten and not clear,
little slips of paper were placed in the box each year
Old Man Warner, the senior citizen living here
said to Mr. Adams who was standing very near:
“Seventy-seven years I’ve been participating
in this lottery for which everyone is waiting!
I tell you there’s no other way; it’s needed in June.
We sacrifice life for the corn to be heavy soon”.
Mr. Summers called by name, heads of each family;
all in alphabetical order from A to Z.
Every head of household chose individually;
beginning with Adams, and ending with Zanini.
When every man had a slip of paper in his hand,
“Open up” said Mr. Summers with modest demand.
“The paper with a black pencil mark will indicate
its holder is the sacrifice we all designate”
Along came Bill Hutchinson’s wife Tessie running late;
shocked to see her husband holding the paper of fate.
Mr. Summers asked “How many in the family?
Bill replied “Five. Three children, my wife Tessie, and me.”
Mr. Summers took the slip and put in four blanks more;
back into the black box after opening its door.
Then each of the Hutchinsons was told to reach inside.
The one holding the paper with the mark would decide.
Mr. Summers checked the papers and said with his voice:
“We have our sacrifice! Tessie Hutchinson’s our choice!”
“It isn’t fair!” Yelled Tessie, crying loud and frantic.
The people grabbed stones with Tessie running in panic.
They all caught up with her in the middle of a field,
and stoned her to death without any apparent yield!
Based on the short story "The Lottery" by the late Shirley Jackson
She bares the marks of a life lived hard, her face the giveaway. Faint scar above her brow, chipped tooth, deep furrows that should be gentle crow feet to compliment her gorgeous eyes. She used to be pretty, now a concrete blonde of fading beauty. Named Roberta as a baby, but the few, privy to this information have since taken it to the grave, to all who ebb and flow from her life, simply Bobby.
Bobby wandered into town, who knows when. Her faded blue jeans slid forward on the weathered wooden bench outside the general store. From the recesses of her mind, she could recall only one occasion from her childhood when a dress draped her lanky frame. She hated it so much it was unceremoniously discarded, playing outside in her nickers at a 10th birthday party. From that day forward, only jeans. She never wore jewellery, her only adornment was a tarnished belt buckle sitting over the top of her Buckskin shirt. Bobby’s battered hat sat propped over her knee, she held a Coke as she waited on the bench.
It had been more than half a century since he saw Bobby. The pained, memory of her hair swaying, catching the golden sunlight on her back as he watched her walk away. Now, as he climbed the veranda, he knew it was her, faded, like his memories, but the, ever young, eyes, danced with life and he was drawn to them once again. Neither spoke as he eased his body onto the bench, their legs pinched together. A light breeze filtered through the thoroughfare, causing the rusty sandwich sign to creak and grown. He pulled his blues harp from the top pocket of his shirt and his breath eased across the chords. Bobby chuckled before she sang.
His lips stopped moving, he smiled with the realisation that at 78 years, he was trading what was left of his tomorrows for this moment in time. He slid his hand over Bobby’s and went still. Bobby held him for a long time, she sobbed. Tears flowed for a misspent life, sobbed for what could have been, sobbed at the cost of her freedom as it dawned on her that It wasn’t just another word for nothing else to lose. The floodgates opened as she truly lost.
Bobby stood on the highway, thumb out. The horizon held the ominous sign of approaching rain. An old diesel truck pulled up and she climbed aboard, she lifted the harmonica and said, “Do you want me to play?”
To know just where your're going
You must know where you've been
You must respect the history
The things others have seen
It's true in all things relative
Be it music, sports or life
If you don't know where you came from
You're just dancing on a knife
Gherig, Ruth and Robinson
May, and Mantle, Seaver too
Respect their contributions
And don't just say Ruth who?
Respect where things have come from
And the players of the past
Because you learn and make things better
It's what makes the damn game last
Jimmy Foxx, Bob Gibson, Kaline
Nestor Chylak and The Goose
They made baseball special
They gave the game a little juice
Orr, Richard and Gretzky
Gordie Howe and Howie Morenz
You have to know about them
You need the beginning to your ends
Bob Baun and Bill Barilko
Connie Smythe and yeah...the Chief
You have to know their history
They're what it is to be a Leaf
The game has changed immensely
Things can not go back in time
But to me...the old alumni
Made the game I know as mine
Respect the ones before you
The ones who laid the groundwork down
The ones who made it special
The non-pretenders to the crown
Elvis, Buddy, Harrison
Played the songs inside their heart
Lennon, Wilson and the rest
They all played a real big part
Every single generation
should learn from the one before
For if they don't know where they've come from
Then what has it all been for?
Nicklaus, Palmer, Bobby Jones
Sarazen and Hogan too
They pushed the gameright to it's limits
Now the pressure's upon you
The new breed are the teachers now
They're the ones to lead the way
When twenty or so years from now
You'll hear somebody say
"Respect who came before you
The ones who made us so damn proud
LIke Nash and , Perry and Taylor Hall
They played the game so loud
Pudge, Jeter, and Verlander
they brought it up a notch
They were there to stretch the limits
Not to just sit by and watch
Rory, Justin Rose and Mahan
Bubba, Dustin and the rest
They are the players of the future
They all respected the games best
So, to know where you are going
You must know where you have been
Respect, past through the future
And all that's happened in between.
Baby…you know I’ve been working all day... You know you should't act like this, can't you
see I've been trying to get a little extra pay…You see I don't mind working like a dog.
I’m just trying to get the job done. (Just trying…Yeah! Yeah!) I’m doing this to may your
dreams come True. Ahh! Yes, my baby I know that it’s been hard on you…baby you see it’s
been tough for me too…but I’m just trying to do my best for both you and me…as we try to
raise our little family. I’m just trying to get the job done. I know that you get lonely
sometimes…oh but just believe in me. (He is just trying…Yeah! Yeah!) Baby, I’m trying to
keep a roof over our heads and shoes on our feet? I’m just trying to get the job done. (Just
trying…Yeah! Yeah!) Well, there are bills to be paid…and we got another baby on the
way….Yeah Honey (Just trying…yeah) well, Bobby needs a new pair of shoes… for his first
day of school. I’m just was trying to get the job done…oh we yeah yeah… Well Baby, I know
it’s been hard on you... (Just trying…Yeah!Yeah!) I know he really misses his daddy. I’m
trying to get this job done. ..Mmmm… that’s what I’m doing! Oh my darling, please just have
a little faith in me? You see one day, one sunny warm summers day… we’ll be sitting in that
old swing chair…yes we will, yeah! Will be watching our grandchildren run and play and we’ll
be reminiscing about how it use to be...Can’t you just see us there? Yeah! We’ll be holding
hands… watching the sun go down.
Trying to get the job done for yah, baby! Yes, for you, for me… and our little family! (Just
trying…yeah) I’ve got the solution in hand. Believe me…just believe in me! I’ll come thru you
and ya’ll see… I’m just trying to get the job done. If you have ever believed that there is a
higher power? (Yes!) If you believe that the rain makes the flowers grow? Just trust in me…
I’m going to get it done…said, I’m trying to get it, build a better life for us…I promise baby…
one day you won’t have any more candle light dinners alone! You’ll see that my jobs done.
Yes it is, sit down baby…let me pour you a glass of wine, let me kiss those full lips…this will
be my new job. Yes it will…I don’t need no pay. (He has finally got the job done…Yeah! Yeah!)
C-Children
H-Happy
R-Running
I-In
S-Snow
T-Two
M-Making
A-A
S-Scene
S-Snowman N-Now O-Over W-Worked
T-Tom O-Opal
P-Playing L-Laughing A-Around Y-Yahoo
I-Inside N-Now
Date Written: 12/15/2022
2 Place
Christmas Contest
Sponsored by: Bobby May
Out of the blue on this summer day
Richie asks me if I want to swim with him across the lake
Sure what the hell and that is that
I will match the older boy’s vim and whim
Two strong boys armored with Nietzsche arrogance and Tolkien muscle
Armada of scarecrows and wrists assemble on Wally’s manmade beach
To accompany us on the two-and-a-half-mile odyssey
Across the cold and chop of wind
Dad hunches over a leaky rowboat
In hand-to-hand combat with splintered creaky oars
Dennis kneels on a music sheet paddle board
Pink baton at his bearded black throat
In we go
A wave and grin goodbye to Wally’s beautiful daughter Wendy
Richie to Wally’s wonderous wife Janet
And to our moms’ arms crossed up on the tennis court hill
For hours little did we know
Dad says Bobby! Sarah’s coming up underneath you ha ha
Richie separates and heads north not east like a slashing madman
Hey Hey yells Dennis his spotter
Imagine myself a turtle with hot sun egg frying on its back in the black water
Begin to feel the razor teeth of pike at my toes
Biting them off one by one
I stop and panic thrash and splash them away give them my toenails
Richie straightens out far behind me
Weight of the bloated world holding me up
Spaceship in orbit bellied against the Earth
Halfway across
I assume
I can only tell by the guess of cumulus clouds
My knees shoulders neck need an oiled wrench to complete each heave and rotation
Rust and barnacles growing on me
Finally I pass over the turquoise drop off of the other side
Pink mustard to my sutured eyelids
Line of shore the trees a quarter mile ahead
I think dad yells good enough good enough
Salvages me in with what chattering bones remain retrievable
Face gone
Snaps my arms and legs to the rowboat’s aluminum bench
Cannot bend this brass statue to a sitting position
Upside down the only way I can fit in
For the long trip back within my dad’s singing voice
Richie crawls hands and knees up on that beach
Holds its sand in his hands lets it sift through as a time glass
Never lets me forget that
I finished and you did not but we won’t tell the shimmering women
When and if
You the brother I never had and I get back
Teeth left like unrecovered treasure at the bottom of Torch Lake.
His freak flag is still out there flying; He never has put it down;
Hope for peace and power to the people; will stay with him; as long as He’s around.
People make remarks about it; and act like they don’t care;
But he bets some wish it was; those days of flowers and flowing hair.
Everybody’s joining up; with the popular opinions;
And persecuting those who chose; not to live in there dominion.
Is this the new reality; if you wear it you can own it;
Or is reality only that which is; convenient for the moment?
Today He pulled his music out; and played some old time tunes;
Savoy Brown, Electric Flag and the dark side of the moon.
Now here we are with newer days; and we still can’t ban the bomb;
How long before the words “we trust in God” from money will be gone?
Oh yeah He trusts; He trust that Standard oil still pays no taxes;
And when put to the forefront most of us; will claim that all’s well when they ask us.
Then again somebody could wind up dead; stranger things have happened you know.
John's dead so is Bobby, Martin too; and all the witness at the grassy knoll.
Need attention, hell yes; He’s looking for anyone who really is paying attention;
And not too busy living out life’s negative contentions.
Black power, women rule, east side, west side; but we the people; grow pale
We’re living in a type of matrix telling us not to pass go but go straight to jail.
Oh your pardon, you’ve never been behind bars; bars don’t make the prison you see;
If you take a closer look; you might notice your choices really aren’t that free
.
Tell him the answer to this; why are we always making people do things our way;
Does this country really try to liberate; or just make a junior U.S.A.?
I’ll tell you what he thinks; we’re to busy trying to survive to bother with injustices;
He thinks that’s how the bureaucrats want it; and he supposes that’s just how it is.
What are you going to do cry; that don’t help; Get violent, that’s not a good deal;
There isn’t anything to do as far as he can see; so give it a break just keep it real.
We the people aren’t happening anymore; that just isn’t nice thing to face now is it?
Who knows, move to Canada maybe; as far as him hoping though; that He’ll never quit
It was a long and turbulent year
Beset with death, war and crime.
Oh! Where do we journey from here?
Alas, a New Year begins its chimes.
Last January misfortune began
North Korea captured the Pueblo ship
While Americans soldiers died in Vietnam
The Hippies embraced the LSD trip.
Chaos and dissent forged its plans
When February embraced the year
With death from khe sang in Vietnam
American widows shed their tears.
March was a month of political storm
As L.B.J. gave a farewell speech
Kennedy's campaign in this month was born
As 500 americans died in Nam each week
April, April! Why did you come?
Riots and hatred to your month belong
April, April You've finally gone
You have taken Martin to his eternal kingdom
Resurrection City enveloped May
A bloody winter lapsed to a Silent Spring
most everyone mourning Martin,s grave
What more anquish can this year bring?
June has arrived and consumed with tears
Oh! Where, Oh Where has Bobby gone?
Another disaster has come this year
Is the darkest hour before the dawn?
Hunger in Biafra envelop July
preppies and youth embrace the Pill
We 'll find peace, if we try
alas in Nam there is more to kill.
August so sad, no end in sight
Chicago's the place for riots and tears
When will the sun shatter the night?
What more can happen this fateful year?
Melancholy breezed through September
The turbulent Summer has finally past
Humanity will long remember
The blood,sweat and tears, which had been cast.
October was a month for prosperity and peace
Our Astronauts exploring space
Jackie Kennedy wed a man from Greece
Laurels for U.S. Olympians achieving !st Place.
November arrived, the moon shining bright
President Nixon will rule the nation
The year long storm fading with the night
As a New Year waits in anticipation
December calmly found it's place
North Korea returned the Pueblo Ship
American astronauts soaring into space
landing on the moon at a record pace
Farewell,farewell 1968
Your year has succumbed to the past
The yearlong storm we'll soon forsake
The tears and death for which you cast.
The earth revolves around the sun
America,America forever lives on
It's a time of peace for everyone
as we embrace a New Year's dawn.
it was the sixties
we were young
we were going to change the world
spin it like a basketball on our finger
take the three point shot
win the game
we had great leaders
john, robert, martin...
the planet was singing
with the purity of a four year old
...
The ants go marching two by two;
The little one stops to tie his shoe,
...
then
it started raining bullets
our optimism soured
slightly at first
and the grassy knoll
and the sniper
and the magic bullet
john was shot
jackie squirmed
we sat on the edge of our seats
The ants go marching four by four;
The little one stops to shut the door,
John F. Kennedy was assassinated
The ants go marching five by five;
The little one stops to take a dive,
years had passed, five
look before you dive
the civil rights movement gathered
to fight for their God given rights
the right to be treated as humans
exactly that...humans...no more no less.
to listen to the man who had said
"Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon
which cuts without wounding and ennobles
the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals."
the man who stood on the hill speaking
"I have a dream today!"
The ants go marching seven by seven;
The little one stops to pray to heaven,
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Martin Luther King Jr. was shot
died
and my God it rained
it rained salt
as a nation black and white cried
The ants go marching nine by nine;
The little one stops to check the time,
time for the rise of Bobby
Hoorah! Hoorah!
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
i wish he could have ran faster than the bullets
they murdered John's brother
Robert F. Kennedy was dead
the sixties where almost finished
and i wondered
if the world would ever be the same
again
I marched away buried my face into the ground
To get out of my pain.
great leaders lost
words that radiated
radiate hope
America was
the envy of the world
it's two thousand sixteen
and we have sunk so deep into the dirt
i know we can't Trump this disaster
have you ever heard of fools gold
we have a choice
our lives count
remember the ants
nature's banner is blowing in the wind
don't make
the little one shout
"THE END!!"
March 16 2016
armand