Long Booked Poems
Long Booked Poems. Below are the most popular long Booked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Booked poems by poem length and keyword.
When Mortimer Manders collapsed in the street,
his daughter, Muriel, was with him.
Though now seventy-five,
he’d continued to thrive,
in spite of the irregular rhythm
his heart was now keeping. But this was quite grave.
He hit the hard sidewalk real sudden.
When Muriel knelt
beside him, and felt
to locate where his pulse was, she couldn’t.
Soon, passers-by stopped and gathered around,
but no-one had medical knowledge.
“It’s good, I suppose,
If you loosen his clothes:
I think that’s what they told us in college …”
She looked wildly around, and thought that she’d found
a willing and capable saviour.
A red firehouse lay
thirty metres away –
(might as well have been Outer Moravia!)
When Muriel pounded the firehouse door,
a voice answered back through the panels,
“You make think it inept,
but we’ll only accept
an approach through appropriate channels.”
“But he pays your wages,” she argued with force:
and, pointing to where he was lying,
“You’ve got to come quick –
he’s collapsed on the bricks –
my father is probably dying!”
“You don’t understand how these things are arranged,”
said the voice, from the depths of the station:
“You just call nine-one-one.
If we try to respond,
we are risking adverse litigation.”
Running into the roadway, she flagged down a car,
and the driver agreeably shocked her:
with a white coat and bag
and a hospital tag,
he said, “Yes, you are right, I’m a doctor.”
As the quack pulled away, he turned briefly to say,
in a voice that was suitably gloomy,
“I will not touch that man,
for if I lend a hand
and he happens to die, you can sue me.”
The ambulance came, but things got more lame,
as Mortimer started to weaken:
though the ambulance crew
looked resplendent in blue,
the responders were all Costa Rican.
“We’ve lived here some time and our English is fine,
but we can’t touch our defibrillator.
To avoid getting screwed,
we must talk to him through
an officially-sanctioned translator.”
“But you sound good to me, and it’s peachy, you see,
for my father speaks German and Spanish.”
“But your ganso is cooked.
No interpreter’s booked.”
And the ambulance packed up and vanished.
So the moral is clear. Clear of medics please steer.
Your best course, if you’re feeling nervous, is
lay on linguists each day
in Magyar and Malay
– and don’t call emergency services.
How am I doing
Well thanking you very much indeed
For being kind enough to ask
Because I am doing just fine
In fact I can't tell a lie i am actually
way far better than that bordering on
great
Because my business is downright
booming at the minute
To the point I have had to stop taking
bookings as I am now fully booked
up till Christmas
And the reason why you may well ask
well is due and down to this
You see what I do for and earn my living
as my proffesion and business is
I am a fully qualified certified card carrying
Clown
So much some of the very best in the
business which you may or may
not have heard of
Like for example Sideshow Bob and
Ronald McDonald who actually based
a lot of their own act and performance
on material they stole off me
But they have all but since gone to
ground so now I am all but the last
standing remaining Clown
Due to the dwindling amount of work
after COVID -19 rules etiquette and
social distancing ensued
The best excuse money can buy
when all else other's used have failed
thus far since the classic good old days
of my dog eat my homework
And left them without means to
earn a steady income to support
them in order to pay their bill's and
lifestyle they had become accustomed to
But hey at least this story has a happy
ending and they didn't want and go
without for very long
Because blessed with the particular
skillet they garnered and possessed
They simply just went joined signed
up and pledged allegiance to and
became a fully fledged member of the
Clown Union
Because as everyone full well knows
Clown's are the star's and reason why
people choose go to the Circus in the
1st place
And politics if nothing else is in all
but name the greatest Circus on earth
Only difference being although littered
with clown's these one's have or feel
no need
To slap and adorn their face in
makeup or wear a funny customized
suit
Because they are and their act and
material on which it is based upon is
in itself funnier than hell
But whereas Circus clown's wear big
shoe's for comical affect
These here clown's wear big boot's
in order so they can fill them up to
brim of their stetson hat
After the pockets of their shinny designer
bespoken suits look like they have
$100 handkerchief hanging out all
of them
We kept our silence in the room as we waited for the verdict to be read an innocent man sitting there with a murder hanging over his head, the image of the blood stained sheet is all over the screen and his only alibi is the woman of his dream.
You cannot be in two places before the horse races, there are four rooms in the house and an exit next to the kitchen, there is a basement two layers below and that is where you prepare for the show. You have a studio and a small study and a rack filled with oldies and goodies; sensational music of the past ring loudly in his ears and a library with an experiment table and newly designed module of a gadget sitting on top.
He cannot imagine himself killing anyone and he cannot believe that he have blood stain on his hand, “I don’t even know how to use a gun and if I did I would probably be on the run”, he shouted as he speaks his thoughts aloud. It is the form of confession you hear when death reason with death and passion run through veins spilling anxiety in the air.
We kept our silence in the room as he recalls the story of what happen that day at noon. He said that he was with the woman of his dreams walking on the beach, talking about the future and how they would spend their lives together; they booked a cheap hotel room and had lunch at noon, then made love the entire day.
He went on and on describing the woman of his dreams and never talked about the murdered man on the screen; his story of love was so convincing he mesmerized everyone in the room, and when he said, “my eyes met with hers and when the golden stature flashed across his eyes the interlude began, and they both became one.”
Their eyes and mouths open wide and raw nerves crashing with nerves and for more than five minutes no one spoke; it wasn’t a joke they were caught up in a romantic rapture and silence broke when the judge read the verdict.
“Not guilty “go in peace the Judge said, forcing himself to overcome the love spell. He brought out the entire old document on the case and throws them in the furnace and watched it burnt to ash.
The accused left the courtroom with his woman holding together their mesmerizing passion burning in the stomach. “I am a free man,” he shouted, I am going to travel the whole wide world and make some money telling stories. Not guilty is the title of his first book.
My hair is mostly white with streaks of black here and there
My white hair marks me as “aged” --- is that fair?
I don’t think or feel old (to which my body keeps disagreeing)
Just let me be who and what I am without age interfering
My opinions derive from education and experience
Each and all have been my deliverance:
Reading, listening, arguing, questioning,
Curiosity, studying, rejecting and accepting.
At 78 my brain functions minus dementia or senility
And if truth be told Men don’t have a monopoly
On Life’s options due to their relentlessly reiterated virility
Womanhood has Booked her place throughout the Ages
Profoundly and sometimes better than Manhood’s Pages
(Yet I’m thankful for Men being close-by anyway!
They’re the music, poetry, and humor in Life’s abundant Plays
So Diverse, yet hoarded and cherished as Life’s Bouquets).
All this irrelevant musing won’t get me anywhere
Let’s not digress but readdress the dilemma of my white hair
A naked cranium would be icy in cold winter weather
And if it won’t grow back going bald might not be vey clever
There is always dyeing, but only another temporary solution
Dye fades and white hair will reappear of its own volition
Yet I love a rich auburn, and the right blonde shade can flatter
Black is harsh, and Browns won’t suit so do not matter
Purples, greens, pinks or rainbow are not my cup of tea
Hair coloring options or choices I cannot dictate
Or expect others to like or dislike the same as me.
Dyeing my hair will habitually face budget restrictions
A loathed state of affairs that is an odious situation
Being poor demands tribute to that which is essential
Like mortgage, utilities, eating daily (oh, so beneficial!)
Thinking, looking back and reviewing bygone years
I recall highs, lows, regrets, laughter and shed tears
I’ve earned the right to show off this head of white hair
Without dyeing, lamenting, defending or worrying if it is fair.
Perhaps it is time at last to say “Thanks” for the generous gift
I was given to walk Life’s unique (at times) inhospitable Course
Having had my share of rewards, recognition, grief and remorse
I now salute my 78 years with Good Show! Hip, Hip! Here! Here!
Glad to Be and now at ease wearing that mantle of White Hair
That serves as my symbol to Endure, Survive and Persevere.
' Angel does not appear from heaven but comes to rescue in guise of stranger or associate
lending a helping hand.'. ....Poet.
When my older daughter got established abroad,
younger one left for higher studies.
At that stage
worst critical situations arose blocking my journey of life,
My friend’s brother stood beside like an angel.
He protected me acting as a strong shield
behaving like my own brother lending a helping hand
Both daughters were far away from me.
He turned my own sibling snatching full affection.
Owning theater-group he was an amateur actor.
Local auditorium was booked for whole week show.
He valued my comments as a precious advisor and offered
me season ticket for all the scheduled shows.
On the last evening I reached the auditorium.
It was completely closed without any trace of light.
I was not informed of sudden change of the programme
Gate -Keeper declared’ At late night he passed away
on massive heart attack'.
It seemed to me I could collapse and almost to faint.
Just last evening, I watched his cheerful comedy.
His apartment was only ten minutes walking from my house.
About this terrible tragedy none informed me.
I rushed to meet his ninety years old mother.
He was the youngest and most lovable son.
Heart attack syndrome was detected last night.
Doctor failed, nothing worked.
Ten years old son and young wife were left behind.
My Angel appeared when I was extremely distressed.
Now he stays alive in my mind only to mourn :
No solace , so hard to accept, he is no more.
Colors of my life had been erased displaying
dull pale torn canvas.
In crowded rooms I saw you but feared to say hello,
So I never invited you round for tea, instead I just wallow,
In this life without love, I know not of what I have lost,
And each slightest sun beam cripples in the nightly frost,
Twisted branches hug me, creeping over lumbered limbs
that know my smell, long for my touch and tangle in my sins,
I am desperate to break free from the blackened bark,
And rid me of this sombre paint, my colourless birthmark,
I long to smell the salty breaths of the wild and violet ocean,
But instead I numbly follow each life-long learnt emotion,
But frothy waves desert me,
And these twisted branches hurt me,
Though they say they love me dearly, they pierce into my sullen skin.
When I first met you love, I didn’t know what to think,
I’d been on stormy tides for years and I balanced on the brink,
I know not of what I am my love as I float with you beside,
And I know not of what I will now become on these tempest tides,
To take the risk of having you is to leave known loneliness,
But in this cloistered room my breaths unwillingly confess,
Your flowers bud from rotting wood in calm sporadic delight,
And blossom amongst dewy moss against a sunless fight,
Maybe we can share a brew my dear, a steamy cup of love,
“Please do not shy away from me”, sweetly sings your mourning dove,
But blooming orchids scare me,
And the roses thorns cling to me,
Though I long for your touch my love, I am nothing without my kin.
You say you have always known me love, as though you were always there,
Like you were always at the breakfast table and I always had a chair,
You’ve bought me out of darkness dear, without shadows I cannot hide,
I feel you watching me as I sleep, from my one lamped, one booked bedside,
You’re with me in my dreams my love but not keeping tears at bay,
But now when glassy eyes run deep I’m no longer in the clay,
There will be times when I desert you and leave your loving hold,
But know I’ll always think of you until I am grey and old,
I promise to always love you love and I’ll always be home for tea,
And I thank you love for loving me though at times I’ve wanted to flee,
Now caring words they warm me,
And growing forests holds me,
Though we are new born friends my love, just now I love you love, yes always.
The black and white ball is on
The twist this year is
You my dear, have to wear men’s cloths
A black suit
You may be the prettiest girl that ever walked the earth
But there is no way you will be a sexy man
You pour your self into those jeans
Throw on a loose T-shirt
Causing men to drool
Making girls wish they were you
But you in a suit, well we will see
I don’t want to see you in the suit
Until the night of the ball
I will however
Make an appointment at the Taylors
No I won’t
I’ll take your measurements and get you a suit myself
It will be my present to you, for the ball
Damn on paper her measurements even look sexy
To the material shop
Ohh wow,
Black pinstripe silk
Finding a walking stick is tricky
Drop into shoe shop she shops at all the time
She is known by name so am I
Hello gorgeous how are you
I want to by my Lady a surprise
And I need your help
Great, thank you very much,
The first thing I know you don’t have here but I need
Are black fish net stocking
Would you mind getting a pair form to fit her pretty please
Awesome now I would like
Shiny Black Stiletto’s with 4” heals
To match this material in her size
Thank-you so much
Come here so I can give you a cuddle
To the beauty shop
Book you in for a
Full body massage
A Facial
Hair wash, perm
And make up
Off to the Taylor
His instructions
Here are the measurements of my beautiful lady
I want you to make her a suit coat with tails
Out of this silk
And a tie as well please
He says no
He will not make anything from paper
He wants to see her
I agree with term
She is no to know what is being created for her
He agrees, she’s booked in
She has been to the taylor
She has been fitted
And she doesn't know why
The morning of the ball
Everything is ready
We just have to make it happen
My Sweet I have made you
Raisin Toast
Squeezed orange juice
And Tea for a change
Put on your favorite jeans and T
You have a big day
Opening the car door for you
After stopping at the beauty shop
Where I must leave you for a while
Your Shoes look awesome
Love the Stocking she got you
The Formal Tails and Body Suit is wicked
Entering the Ballroom
Standing at the top of the staircase
The music stops
The men gaze in awe
The girls stare in envy
You my dear are
The Princess of the Ball
Let’s party
Mr Green moved into a fertile neighbourhood, the soil felt pleasant underneath his feet, and the landscape looked good but right above him, he saw Men with broad shoulders, throwing shades over him, like trees...
Within a while, the atmosphere turned cold because the friendly temperature had diminished,
therefore eye contacts became blurry, for water froze to ice, below zero degrees...
As winter approached, social activities reproached, even students were forced to stay back home, regardless the payment
of their tuition fees,
Green loved the chill of summer, but now in the absence of the Sun, he began shedding tears in relieve indoors, as he craved for love as warm as a cuddle, while praying relentlessly without seizing, for a new season, most nights on his knees,
afterwards he contemplated to leave that branch of the city back to his grass roots, considering that, his new house felt even colder because the roof was made up of a thatch of leaves, detached together by his pompous, shady neighbours, who wouldn't agree to disagree,
He was young, strong and full of life, not scared of change for he was quite adventurous, lived in several places, among diverse races, to the point that he had lost count of faces, most of whom he might never see,
Somewhere along the way, in pursuit of destiny, his emotions drowned in a certain storm that occurred on a wave length across seven seas, while he was travelling to acquire knowledge in exposure, over sees,
so he decided to move on in one peace, not out of fear but due to the fact that, his brilliance always broke the hearts of his dark surroundings into tiny, envious pieces and more also, if a fight sprouts out in the woods, who would be the referee?,
Finally, he sacrificed his pride by casting down his crown, then gave away his time into memory lane,
without requesting for a dime from his brief experience while leaving among strangers who encompassed him like bees,
hence he braced himself up knowing that, being different was not a crime, then booked a flight scheduled to depart at noon by three,
Thereafter folded his Green sleeves,
put some ripe fruits and a jar of fresh milk, into his travelling bag and ventured into nature, in order to set his productive mind free.
I had better start at the beginning
When my heart started beating to fast.
When I collapsed at work one day
And I thought I had breathed my last.
We had booked to go on holiday,
On a cruise we was ready to go.
But two days before we was sailing,
The doctor said the holiday is a no.
He said I had to go into hospital,
In a ambulance, with blue lights so fast.
They gave me a chemical cardioversion,
Three times,but that didn't last.
They said I had to see specialist,
But it slowed down and I could go home.
All I could do when I got back,
Was to sit and wait by the phone.
Then my heart again went out of rhythm,
I was back laid out on the floor.
When the ambulance came to collect me
My pulse was three hundred or more.
So they gave me another cardioversion,
But the electric one instead.
I wasn't very long back in rhythm,
At least I'm still here and not dead.
This has been going on for two years or more,
A alternative they will have to explore.
They decided to do a catheter ablation,
Three tubes from my groin to my heart.
To burn away all of my problems,
I felt like I had got a new start.
Then one morning in September it happened,
I awoke at my usual time
My wife said I looked really vacant,
She said I didn't look fine.
Then I came round from my trance like state,
Then I went out the door.
Later that night,I didn't feel right,
So to hospital just like before.
It turned out, I'd had a stroke,
A bilateral cerebral infarction.
I knew it had to be something really bad,
But I didn't show any reaction.
At least my body doesn't show many signs,
And my mind seems to work as before.
The only problem I seem to have
Is my heart is out of rhythm once more.
Sometimes it's high, sometimes it's low,
My specialist says,
A pacemaker is the only way to go.
I will have to have medication,
To slow it when it's high,
The pacemaker will work if I go low,
So hopefully it won't let me die.
I bet there is a lot of people out there,
With symptoms just like me.
Putting it down on paper,helps with my anxiety.
This poem about my a fib, the scariest thing in my life.
So thanks to the doctor's, nurses and specialists,
And most of all my wife.
Without her help and quick thinking,
I don't think I would still have a life.
11/9/2020
Legend Of The Black Dove
(Part 5) "Adventures On The High Seas"
The quicksand has claimed one victim, the fleeing horse and the real
Black Dove is trapped underneath the quicksand. He manages to grab the
horses tail and climb on the side of the horse and with brute strength
jumps clear of the sand onto firm ground, he also manages to rescue
the imposter from the sand, he was unconscious but still alive. Moments
later the kings guards arrive. They decide to unmask the Black Dove,
but to their surprise, they find Jack Wild behind the mask. Norrington
can hardly believe what he sees, as Jack Wild had died in the mine
having being impaled on a pinnacle, Wild tells him he was
his twin brother Luke, and pledges to kill the Black Dove the moment he
finds him. The soldiers cart him off with the other prisoners, and
Norrington is taken back to Norrington Manor. When he arrives he
is greeted by his friend and butler Bill Jenkins, who said he has booked a
passage for them both on a ship heading for South America. He was asked
for assistance in a landowner's dispute in Monteray (California). They board
the ship and moments later she leaves for California. The ship is seaborne for
two days when they are attacked by a pirate ship. Norrington and Jenkins
are in their cabin when the ship is boarded by pirates. The pirates capture
all crew members and approached the cabin were Norringtoan and Jenkins
are standing. Moments later as they entered the cabin, they see one man
standing there with a sword in one hand and a gun in the other. It is the
Black Dove. The pirates attack him as he shoots one pirate and starts fighting
with the other. He escapes the cabin and tries to find a hiding place but is
seized by three more pirates and taken on deck. The Captain of the pirates
decides to make him walk the plank. His hands are bound and he is been
weighted down with heavy chains, then forced to walk the plank, He is
pushed into the ocean and as he goes down quickly to the bottom, the
pirates laugh at his ill fortune.......Has the Black Dove drowned in the sea?
What will become of Bill Jenkins trapped alone on the ship ?
Don't miss "Peril At Sea" Part 6 next time.
Written 3rd May 2013