Long Bongos Poems
Long Bongos Poems. Below are the most popular long Bongos by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bongos poems by poem length and keyword.
Lee is a beatnik all right, the seventy year olds agreed
he was lying in the grass, playing bongos next to his weed
as chill as we had ever seen Maynard on Dobie Gillis too
We was singing a weird slow song, name I had no clue
what do we do with him? someone wanted to know
Do we ask him to leave? Will he be complaint and go?
it would not hurt any of you to take a hint from Chet one said.
You are mostly Type A’s, could you try to be C’s instead?
I wanted to try, so I sat down and began humming a song.
The others tried to stop me, for my singing voice is wrong.
Then I began to drum, but a rhythm does not come from me.
I finally read a book, sitting next to the beatnik, Lee.
I am going to be the next Dr. Suess.
I can make things rhyme at the turn of a goose.
I am terrific at shaking people loose
Stand back man, I am enjoying my juice.
Hold up! Maybe Tim Burton is more my style.
Lurking around with skeletons making fun of Santy Claus.
I have sarcasm in my soul every once In a while.
I will be a cartoonist, showing off at my mother’s ma’s.
Hey! Is that a guitar? Let’s give it a go.
Next I will learn how to play a piano.
A musician is what I shall be.
Maybe carrying bongos, yes, that is me!
Are you serious? You think I look like a star?
Well my parents would agree, because they love me so.
A musician, a writer, an actress, why not?
I am not even seventeen, in a web quite uncaught.
I am a talent, for sure. Everyone says.
Merely stating the facts, so do not think I’m being bold.
I will enjoy my artistic life, in every single way
Because I want to experience everything before I am old.
Sickening sweet smell of marijuana
A young guy with a super grin playing bongos
I had never seen that in real life, just on Dobie Gillis.
Come on up! My free-minded cousin said.
There were beds, but they were occupied.
I did not know people sleep during the day.
Being from the Midwest, this was all new
Are these your roommates? I asked her.
Just people, she told me.
I changed into my swimming suit,
Because I was in San Francisco,
And I thought there would be a beach
Someone started a sing-along in the living room.
I was intrigued; this was freedom I had never seen.
We’ll swim tomorrow, my cousin promised.
We never got to the beach
But I saw S Street
And I met real hippies
I found out my zodiac sign
And I learned I have gold in my eyes.
Someone called me an old soul.
It was 1968 I was sixteen.
And it was enough.
do we want to know what’s behind
it - it the show, the drama, the comedy, the crown?
roll the tape, blind us
to the truth of the goofs
snapping turtles, caramel
the lines deceased
irreverence released
do you want to fall behind
the line, congo style
playing the bongos
on air, blowing off steam
Ricky’s loving
her deep red hair
henna is just a trick
he does tricks
morality took a leap, why
the dial into sleep?
David’s herding, no one heard
the sheep.
the bees buzzing
the birds whatzing
the show a go go
look on tape
to see what you believe
no one
in tv land is dressed in virtue
it’s a really big shoe
Ed Sullivan’s size
throw the curtain
don’t look behind the curtain
memorize the lines
even prairie lines
so sweet and innocent
don’t analyze
you’ll be disappointed
don’t buy the book
it’s not done by the book
there’s a cover for a reason
don’t meet the action figures
they don’t bend
you can pop their heads off
they’re not worth
a million dollar man
Farrah Fawcett wouldn’t give
him an eye
it’s rich
his life’s unreal
roll the real
world
AFTER THE PARTY
After the party I awoke on a desert island
At least I thought so, with the blinding sun
And a view of all those swaying palm trees
Well, perhaps it was me who was swaying
My head was thumping as if bongos playing
And wet with sweat at over eighty degrees
I guess that last night must have been fun
But just where I am now, I don’t understand
Perhaps it’s the Tahitian picture on the wall
And the bright morning sun is streaming in
I am wearing my underpants front to back
Probably a game, or a sort of joke on me
But is that the ocean out there that I can see
Maybe it was daybreak before I hit the sack
So many cocktails made with pink hued gin
It’s such a pity I cannot think straight at all
There’s still noisy laughter outside in the hall
Just the usual cheap upper floor motel room
It may be my own, I suppose I should check
My mouth is so dry and my head is spinning
Have I been drunk from the very beginning
But is this a floral garland around my neck
It can only be my vivid imagination, I assume
I’m not on an exotic tropical island after all
"In a Silent Way"
The blackness screams;
The light is a mime;
How is it that my mind dreams;
Of those audios, things;
Just aren’t real folded ears;
Music plays dissipates;
Trumpet cries out
Tri tat tra tat tat tat toot
What’s the used Desmond’s horn;
Can’t keep up with the flow
Drummers beat, tapping feet;
As the music plays on N on;
Listen to the bongos and congas;
Repertory beat the rhythm
Of the concert follow first
Back to the new verse
The blackness screams;
The light is a mime;
How is it that my mind dreams;
Of those audios, things;
Just aren’t real folded ears;
Music plays dissipates;
8/20/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Bang my bongos and I'll pluck your big bouzouki
or shake your maracas at me
and I'll rattle my tambourine for you
it's all it takes to make beautiful music together
undeniably the right thing to do
which in and of itself is an ambitious endeavour
but as the tectonic plates in my fate all shift
I'm starved for intelligent conversation
in this intellectual wilderness there's a rift
how long can I hold my breath in negation
living here among losers in the land of make-believe
where they can only relate to characters on television
and rude loud local yokels dumb everything down
Lord I'm not truly grateful for what I am about to receive
from these ignorant arrogant violent clowns
Do you think Pharts are Phunny
Do you shake hands, hug or play bongos
If a fellow employee pukes in their cubicle
Do you…puke also
…run away
…gag until useless
…get a waste basket in case they go again
…summon the Janitor/custodian
…ask what they had for lunch
…measure the splatter radius
…Quit – because that stink will always be there
When you sneeze
Do you…sneeze into your hand
…wipe it on your pants
…restrain it and cause possible brain hemorrhage
Have you ever
…eaten an oyster
…in the wading pool of an Aquarium
Essay Question
…What do you do if you find half a worm in your apple
DOOM
IMPENDING JOURNEYS
EVER RELENTLESS ONLY
THREE LEGGED PONIES
DOOM
ROCKET SCIENENTIST EMPTY SPACESHIPS
NASA GOT OUT OF THE BUSINESS
DOOM
MANKIND'S DISOBEDIENT
HOLOGRAPHIC TEMPER TANTRUMS
SCARLET ALIENS PLAYING BONGOS
CONA'T NO ANIMALS MATCH THEM
PERJUDICE THE GAY WORLD TRYING TO EMPHASIS THE BLACK STRUGGLE
WHILE STILL KEEPING SAME VIEW IN A BOTTLE
DOOM
GOD'S NOT HAVING THIS
THIS IS WHY IT'S CLOSER YET
THESE ENDS OF TIMES
OF YOURS AND MINDS
DOOM
IMPENDING, ROOMS VACANCIES
DOOM
TERRORISMS
ROOMS
3D TELEVISION
DOOM
HOW SOON
DON'T BLINK
DOOM
WHEN IT COMES DOWN TO FEAR
GIT IT OUT OF HERE
DON'T WINK
DON'T EVEN DRINK THE WINE IN THE ROOM
JESUS IS... COMING
SOON
DOOM
NOT ON MY WATCH
WHO TURN BACK THE CLOCK
PUT DOWN THE ROCK
KEEP THAT IN STOCK
DON'T WINK YOUR EYE
WHY YOU CRY
LORD, MAKE THE DEVIL STOP
THIS IS WHAT....
DOOM
02/28/10
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Ricky Ricardo,
handsome talent of the Tropicana show.
serious, he cracks the whip, practices -
his bongos distract us.
Lucy,
his fiery red-headed wife - we
follow her madcap schemes,
her showbiz dreams.
Fred,
dumpy, grumpy, nearly dead
except he comes alive with dance -
far-fetched romance.
Ethel,
the love of his life? Well…
a partner in dance. Lucy’s sometimes friend.
They always make up in the end.
Little Ricky,
bongo player — itty bitty
show stealer. Not a natural son,
Keith’s not credited but the golden ticket, he won!
I Love Lucy
gets along famously,
handles the trite matters
of life. Laughter on a silver platter.
9/5/2021