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.
A weasel wibble wobbling can be said to have ingested copious amounts of indemonstrable indelible ink today as it soared into doorways, hallways, cloakrooms, and buffet tables. Buffet tables are neither buffaloes or bongos. In fact they are a pleasant sight to behold. Many colours. Many tastes. And the sounds of chatting from the sandwich stack is delightful especially when the mayonnaise is chuckling away at the jokes told by the ham and cheese. Little dainty cup cakes are immature so a quality conversation cannot be held. And the large jug is rather unintelligible and uninteresting as it yawns away the hours before the consumption takes place. The operatic oversized plate of soprano pineapples and chords of cheese with onions today but the mighty weight of the plate of rice and pasta salad bangs away and interrupts the acts really so the sauces must line up and push the nuisance plate to the floor and this they did. The dog was very very pleased and lay down after eating it all for a doze. And over half a dozen eggs kept jumping up and down and throwing their mayonnaise hats off. We font want these hats. We want whipped cream they shouted. The despondent tablecloth groaned. Another booming buffering buffet. And then the cutlery began having races between the foods. Zoom zoom zoom. Wow. The might of the jar of gherkins was being prayed to by the punnet of strawberries. And the profiteroles were preforming Pilates to an amused potatoe salad. The salt and pepper were arguing over who got used the most. And the coleslaw was diving on and off the pizza slices which annoyed the pepperoni who shouted go away in a very high pitched voice. Buffet battling bemusingly being buttering breadsticks. And now the time had arrived. The hungry swans and tulip people were here. They saw the mess. Blamed the dog. Then walked out in disgust. Oh dear. The tablecloth picked itself up and all it's contents too then went out of the back door and soared off in the air. It landed on a busy beach where it fed lots of little sea urchins. Who were grateful. They gave the tablecloth an ice cream to say thanks. Then the tablecloth went into the sea and swam to the island of the nine figs. Great isn't it. Ha ha the waves want wands. Hahaha boats bouncing into the sky. Left angled fueled fuel vision of a visionary variant spelling of mid. Xxxxx contemplation z z z z in a kiosk z
Form:
The memoirs of an ashtray should be written by the giggling pot pourri for pot pourri are neither properly printing nor are the proficient professional photographic petals. How exciting is the table today? Not very. For it is very difficult to discover a tabletop when all is thrown upon it like a raked lawn disturbed by a windy day. Tons of papers jostling for position fighting for space with the clothes and the pen takes up the most room but is asleep and snoring. And who would wish to wake a pen for on waking they can become quite irate so always move quietly if they are in slumber. The dog sees the mess on the table and leaves to play with his toy. The leaving of the dog displeased the table who enjoyed the dogs company and often chatted about wood for hours with the woof. The table groans and groans at the weight and the mess. But to no avail. Causing landslides around the house with its bellow and volcanic voice. The little plant pot in the centre popped through a t shirt and with its leaves pushed and swept all of the contents of the tabletop onto the recently swept floor. Ha it thought. I will now get some water today because I am exposed and no longer in a tomb of clothes. Good. The table was laughing at the resulting mess on the floor. The dog re entered the room and upon seeing the clothes and papers decided to chew then sleep. This was not good news for the returning zoo people. Sixty five elephants, a giraffe, a giant eel, a pride of lions, sixteen baboons, a leopard, one five metre penguin, eighteen tropical fish, a four thousand foot ostrich with a four mile beak, all entered the house. Saw the mess but went about their chores. Cooking and cleaning and bathing. Then seated at the table were the gorilla family who played games of cards till after midnight accompanied by the ambience of tunes from the other animals who were well versed in violin, guitars, bongos, trumpets, cellos, harpsichords and penny whistles. The table was quite content. Harmonic heavenly haven. And no bread crumbs to spit on him. Fantastic...........mesmerized Z Z Z Z. With a tall bearded cuckoo clock calling from a cloud. Z
Form:
A curtsy in my red dress,
trestles hanging down
my eye makeup is a mess,
sweat beads have accumulated
on my forehead crown
Oh but that Sound that Sound
He's lanky and thin
with a slight hint of gin
A graying beard is thick
upon his gnarly chin
Ah, the way he moves his
body like a decadent sin
When he put his arms around my waist
we twisted and turned
His soulful eyes, I could almost taste
Took all I had to keep up with his pace
With a 2/4 beat, repeat, repeat,
we worked up an incredible heat
What an amazing raspy sound
as we danced across that log floor ground
There were bongos and fervent energy
the conga added to the synergy
As our dance feverishly transpired
I intuited the great release he so desired
As he was a president uniquely inspired
For him, a macob job was required
For the dance, and the freedom of slavery
demanded the utmost of bravery
Stepping through Time
I could have chosen many
Instead, I had a Merengue with the
staunch face of the U.S. penny
How many of you can beat that, Any?
191 wds.
I have a blinded man from birth as a brother
Spent time with him first ten years.
We sat in the kitchen floor playing bongos
And congas on mom’s pots and pans
Every time my parents would go to work
I’m, I the youngest stayed at home to baby sit
Instead of flunking me for truancy
Teacher didn’t believe me
At home with mine brother
His rhymes rhythm ways he could-have been another
Stevie Land Morris a “Wonder”
Darkness shown fell on me
His blindness was always be
Looked at him as his eyes danced
The earth darting about the horizon beats
“Does he see internally, eternally?”
The lights were already out for me
But as for him he so already sees
How can a blind person breath colors breathe
Darkness shown all on him on me
He sees what God sees
Do I envision His, their Inter Vision
If I could see for him. I couldn’t see for him
He who hasn’t seen not afraid of the dark, why, so,
So shall he sees more. . . . Many views untold
Unfold the dark I’m lost from here lit in the dark?”
“Yes.” So dark I can see.
Only blinded by my living.
One of my eyes blurred. I enticed blinded by the light
Dark dances in the light
Those the skin on my pupil tight
Opeck scales covering mine eyes
Only blinded by my living.
One of my eyes blurred. I enticed blinded by the light
I have a blinded man from birth as a brother
Spent time with him first ten years.
We sat in the kitchen floor playing bongos
And congas on mom’s pots and pans
I have a blinded man from birth as a brother
Special needs, disabled
Yet instilled, still alive I wonder
Is it too late to be liked a Stevie Wonder
12/5/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Oh No! Oh No! What has my son done? I hope it’s, not already to late!
He lives at a fraternity house, and surely, you know THAT intense mental state.
March has St. Patrick’s Day, Spring Break, and has, of course, Easter in it, too.
So they decided to have some great fun, yes, a fun filled month to happily ensue.
They invited a Leprechaun, the Easter Bunny, and the king of bongos, a gnome.
Apparently they convinced everyone it’d be more fun, to Simply… Stay… Home.
The whole campus flooded thru that fraternity house, in the party’s that ensued.
And they convinced the Easter Bunny to do jello shots in every color and hue.
He became known as THE BUN, yes, The One who finally, truly could fly…
And the Leprechaun danced till he dropped… to a great bongo serenade, aye.
There was no SIMPLY about this! As the music rocked the frat house, next door.
And girls were seen coming and going, at all hours, even passed out on the floor.
This was the party no one missed… even the frat house with the snobs, were there.
It’s said even some of the President’s security attended, partying there, somewhere.
Before they were done, a plan was sown, as the gnome found it’s yearly, new home.
Yes, it got there, in Washington somehow, on the top of the Real ‘White House’ Dome.
But along the way THE BUN was lost… some where along the never-ending roads.
The Leprechaun called me, our Dragons and Trolls, to help, to search the highroads.
The poor little guy was so pie eyed, when we found him along that crazy way, so…
We fixed him up, we didn’t give up, until we could send him, into that Easter Frey.
lost in my own world
confused with whats real
identifying my own self
in a wishing well hoping my inner reality
where do i go at night
to calm down
where am i dreaming
what is that other realm
the place where i am in other places
other places doing other things
making bongos for money
cause i know how to play them
sitting on a curb in vegas pan handling for money
wondering about winning the lottery,
and flooding the streets with tickets
like the joker
with no laughing gas
then i wake up
dog and cat
wonder how to spend my day
need a change
slow march towards a slow parade
in the slow rain
time goes by
and lady luck reminds us
to call her by name
obviously im not ready to discuss me, i have no life
something, not yet well defined,
overtired, bored, desensitised, overdramatic, overapreciative, underapreciated, dork
tickling you frustrated
handful of spades
wild cards
and its a bluffing game
never campaign
look the other way
sinking ship
im learning how to pray
black mass
white sails
please sail away
pirates say
its my birthday
doesnt change anything
deny myself my happy story of having everything and victomising myself and my twin
as if im in control of the whole dream, and they are all reflections of the oither many parts of
my identity
never know, i just shape my dreams with my hands
other people try to shape my dreams with their minds
only one man did that
that was god
but i dont know who am i.
Form:
and its the bing bang boing but not bong ok nor beng or bung
A chicken diner stream is a recipe of combined cream but crossing a work surface is often best using traffic lights, zebra crossings and highlighted roadway maps. It is imperative to firm a very tight organised congestion. With cups to the left and glasses to the right the secret glow of gravity gravy is smiling at the floor. Yet shudders at the arriving sponge. Nodding. Nimble are the beetle bugs. Ooh a ballroom dancing spectacle for earthworms writing in packeted slices. Wow. Earthly eradication ejecting evil evolutionary evidence. But it could be said that dressing very casually is not the same as dressing in a greasy tissue. Fabulous isn't it? Queen gong on a long skinny street picks up a steeple and canters away. A catalogued misted mispronounced misprint of a moonlit mortal. Brighter is the bay before beauty bathes. And a beating bear brings bassist and bongos. Fantastical notions of a citronella cube. Formations frown upon upside down house bricks. And hot housework in leopard attire.whirling. A bun in a jar is neither a jar a bar or a bream in a stream. Straightforward structure strengthened strategy. And a large-scale looking leaking leaning lover. Haha now bake. Hahaha and bring a small frog and a little linguistic fish. Giggle then. Hehe head hornets. Xxxx constitutionalism z that was p y Q reporting on the corner from the facts. X
Form:
A whispering word is a whispering void cantering over airspace. Clear but unclear. Oh the sheer detectable ideology of the fungal worm. Chitter chatter consume. Consumption is the eruption. And like a fine wine to a palate leaves no bereft anarchical wonderful wound. It leaves only a blemish you see. Wipe away and wield and wield. Surely only in a field is one golden shard shirt obtained through an era of cataclysmic canals. And now the peace of the sound injects and vibrates the atmosphere with simple yet symbolic and symmetrically placed soul speak. And so medicine is delivered to the gatherings at many a synchronization and talking cannot halt the dosage. And idle is the bows that do not shout or shoot. And to interrupt a single layer of brain peanut style is to merely swim backstroke against a myrtle current of which is called time. Collaborative collisions then. Good. Youthful digestive tunnels but as yet no turrets. Bouncing booming boogie bongos. Waves of impassive moods.magically magic majestic morphological moods. Xxxxxx ever since a baa comes an array.........savour not a salt and salute no angel for angel is an angel and anglers waltz in a very highly driven snow. So hahahahaha lumps of pressure means a tyre washing in progress....hahahaha mean not a mingle....hahahaha elevated eon.....hahaha and hohoho honourable hideous hundred xxxxxx inconspicuous..z
Form:
It is not a mind altering parade of substances that questions a rotting ship. It is not a threefold tankard buried in an Abyssinia besom of beads for only a technological advance actually shows such a word and such a word is neither an acute angle or a plastic xylophone. Booming bionic bulls bringing bacon backgrounds. An acute angle is not a cute horsefly. And an obtuse angle is too stubborn. Quite a threshold to compete against especially in strong winds but then elephants, giraffes, alligators, and snoring boars often cross river pathways. Don't they? Well really a soup and a spoon? Why not use a fork? A fork is very proud of it's prongs and who would prong an atomic carrot on a battalion of hereditary deeds? Surely if a pickled onion can sing a beautiful aria then a galloping gherkin can play bongos in a classical rendition. The plant thought it was a train but in fact it was the serene sound of a pig snoring. Ten loaves of bread, a silky cape, an atomic pistol and a shroud of golden oranges but not in a halo. Ok then. On a beach. Hahahahaha pushing pineapples over a cliff in a stormy teacup is akin to a lemon in a mud bath. Let it not be said that all potatoes are a wandering timeline. And standing as a tree on a motorway is about as hazardous as learning to play golf in a bathroom. And now the trees are waving. Good. Xxxxx incontinence Z z Z Z
Form:
I: Sheep
(A poem about Covid)
next door to 19 chimneys
and 'the dark satanic mills'
a flock of sheep is grazing
oblivious in the hills.
II: Other Animals
(They do all exist!)
goblin sharks and pangolins
sea pigs, star-nosed moles
mata matas, sugar gliders
shoats and water voles.
aye-ayes, dik-diks, wobbegongs
chicken turtles, loons
shoebills, snipes and yeti crabs
and cozumel raccoons.
pink fairy armadillos
bilbys, 52-hertz whales
the red-lipped batfish, panda ants
and emperor helmet snails.
the pleasing fungus beetles, thrips
hellbenders, great potoos
lilac breasted rollers, bongos
glass frogs, kinkajous.
boobies, fried egg jellyfish
happy wrens and teals
sarcastic fringe heads, cock-tailed tyrants
shags, electric eels.
johnny cash tarantulas
slevin's emo skinks
hanging thieves, agra cadabras
turbo shrews and minks.
the mediterranean shame-faced crabs
dugongs, gangly lancers
jesus lizards, pistol shrimps
fossas, spanish dancers.
the rare long-wattled umbrellabirds
chubs and munchkin cats
satanic leaf-tailed geckos, shads
gars, nits and fancy rats.