Long Boulevard Poems

Long Boulevard Poems. Below are the most popular long Boulevard by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boulevard poems by poem length and keyword.


Another Leader Emerges

From sagging huts up in the hills, 
We watched the tourists flash their bills. 
They piled our harvest on their plates, 
While soup and scraps were all we ate. 

The flames lick up from garbage cans, 
Burnt brown like every working man, 
Who shouts or sings or mutters low 
Of the calluses that come and go. 

They toss in straw, more flames shoot up 
To light the faces, hewn and rough, 
that need a creed, some faith to hold; 
to make their insides proud and bold. 

Right then and there, I stand to speak. 
I will not play the lamb so meek. 
The time has come to take back ours 
from the wealthy dogs with fat cigars. 

First cans, then cars, we overturn. 
Now the boulevard begins to burn.. 
The fools shoot back, forget the cost, 
The naked rage must not be lost. 

We win ourselves some new recruits, 
Some young; some old; some simply brutes; 
I do not care where they heard the call. 
The revolution now will need them all. 

Our cause will die if all stays calm, 
So I send out Juan with sweaty palms. 
He won't come back, farewell, my friend. 
Your blood will flow for greater ends. 

Worn out, weary, our morale grows thin. 
The feeling grows that we can not win. 
We need more guns than we can steal, 
But we do have one crop we can deal. 

The rifles have arrived now. Good! 
Excited now, they crack the wood. 
My loathing of red, white and blue, 
is spreading like the jungle flu. 

Their army scatters, their leaders flee. 
We've brought the country to it's knees. 
With the capitol dead in our sights, 
We'll soon assert the people's rights. 

The grainy film does not portray 
That it was a picture perfect day. 
My second stands there, smart and trim. 
It might pay to keep an eye on him. 

We march them out in single file. 
No need to bother with a trial. 
Their baggy shirts and peasant lies 
Betray them all as filthy spies. 

Yes, the people had decreed this so, 
I speak for them so I should know. 
Your crimes have brought you here to die. 
The people speak through me. Goodbye! 

Their bodies jump in crimson leaps, 
then tumble down in tangled heaps. 
Scarlet skulls and splintered chests, 
They'll surely air this in the West. 

Bulldoze the bones and spread the lime, 
For we all are on the side of time. 
And tonight, we gather in the square. 
Their blood has paid my ruling fare.
Form: Rhyme


War (Acts of Tyranny)

The first day of war is the last day of peace
The leaders serve not like ladders anymore
They turn to feathers
And fly away
Because they are the land lords of the nation
The tenants now bear the penance
 
War is just three alphabets
But can make a tall tree historic round the world
Where there’s war
There’s information
And there’s deformation
Those who are not informed about set bombs,
They get deformed
Some may not be able to perform anymore
Some may die
Some may lie critically ill
But still
The tyrants won’t stop the war
They are the one
They can change the signal
To stop the scandal
I can see
The fighters are tired
They want to retire
But who will stop the war
Hey you tyrant
It’s time for retirement
Weapon is the subject
On a sunny day
You fight
On a beautiful ‘MTN’-yellow Day
You fight
On a dark night
You don’t need light
You stay tight
Ready to fight,
You hide in agility
When you think the war is over
It just begun
See amoured car in the boulevard
 
War
Noise everywhere
Who is safe?
I guess none
What is war?
War is when one is killed
Two are killed
Mother and father die
The murders fly away like they have feathers
Shading of blood everywhere
Oh! My God
A king handles a gun
No matter how thin a slave looks, he handles a gun
They need people to fight
Who are they?
‘The tyrants’
Just say yes,
And you are sent to the war front
He who is in the war front
Knows he’s dying at anytime
But a strong soldier stays
A strong soldier is looking forward to vanquishing his enemies
And a strong soldier is looking forward to saving his people from shame of defeat
Oh! What a brave soldier
When there’s nothing close to you,
Your gun is right beside
Always ready to pull the trigger
Chei! What war can cause
War keeps one restless
What a great stress that can cause a distress
Oh my mistress
Don’t vex when you miss me
Am in the war front
But I assure you one thing
I am coming back because I am a great soldier
Feel sober always expect me knocking
War could be fun
But when you’re not prepared
You can’t prevail
Go and prepare
For you to prevail
The fun of war lies on the winning days
A good or smart soldier fight his way out without injury,
And a great soldier is rushed to therapy
Where is the wound that war gave you?
Ambush is the ambition of the gorillas

Premium Member Sugar Daddy Saturday

Top shelf cologne exhibits sensual tail of peacock
Entrances my senses at our eleven a.m embrace
Eyes shut, my erratic stamina borrows comfort 
Curled into leather front seat, chest inhales safe


Our waterfall guffaws cascade in establishments of stature
Grilled salmon, staple lunch, gregarious wine supports us
Role's novelty and glitz incessantly scratches my rapture 
Unorthodox allure makes mockery of standard formulas

Indirect looks from diners, behind raised glasses, warped
Solid gold arrogance declares benefits blatantly displayed
Society fears breaking the mould, glued to ordinary course
Our acquired theme sustains disdain for lifestyles staid

Ocean boulevard grandeur sees counterpart meshed potential  
Sleek topless travel exalts unfelt mist, road gloss moisture 
Your life thickened fingers amorously grasp my thigh's tender
I agree to be owned, an ornament connects material pleasure

When the Polstar slows to crawl of steady tiger, stealthily slips
mid afternoon into carpark of your harbour side apartment 
Disparagement wedges beneath my ribs, not having envisaged 
aerobics of limber mayhem, loosened make-up, not just yet

Smug expression hugs your face, read in tight lipped pressure
I assert my plan to showcase new swimsuit may now be ruined
"Absolutely promise, gorgeous, there's no chance you'll regret." 
My climbing premonition messages a gem of genuine 

Ponytail splayed against mirrored wall of elevator
Ardent kissing's conclusion resurfaces your chivalrous 
Door barely closed before I pouncing kitten paw you
Your flailing indicating a spare key cut for me, erroneous 

"My doll, my dear desirable, the key is incompatible." 
Mysterious grimace molests your face, causing me to frown
"Did the rum with lunch rupture your remaining brain cells?!" 
Fatherly pats of my arms speak a decoy which confounds 

Journey up two flights, could it be... heart in throat
Silenced keys caress sweat sodden peeled open palm
Your anticipating stare burns my back, unopposed
Oh, justify me - yes! - the door complies on demand

"Neighbour, do you like it?" superfluous inquiry smiling
Floating eight stories above glint of yacht metropolis 
Invited by windows handing out reviving hold of horizon 
Violent screams likely deafen you, interjected with frantic kisses
Form: Quatrain

Duke Ellington Boulevard

i tried to notice without noticing.
i tried to fit in by not standing out,
but i knew i was different.
their walls much bigger.
their yards much nicer.

in elementary it seemed everyone
was in the same class: lower class,
but this was junior high across town,
on white burb avenue
and i was poor.
they weren't.
of course i resisted.
i mixed and matched the clothes i had
as if i was a designer preparing
for the new season.

they let me into their world
for a little while.
i hung out in huge basements,
chilled in hot tubs with bikini clad young hotties,
taking part in all the gossip.

until my illusion wavered 
and they slowly pulled back--
as my clothes got holes in them,
as my shoes wore down,
as i grew out of all i had gotten 
that one time my mom took me school shopping.

goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.

years later i would remember them
at the most inopportune moments--
drunk in a dive bar in Harlem
talking to an ugly girl i was thinking about doing,
in the dirty bathroom of a crack house before i
put the pipe to my lips,
in line at the welfare office.

i think i was bitter for a while,
thinking about how they all probably owned homes
not far from each other and how they would
throw little upscale cocktail parties
around the holidays and kiss each other
on both cheeks when they greeted
but at the same time trying to stay hip by listening
to commercial rap and sexy pop music in their suv's.

yeah, bitter

drunk, and very early in the morning,
i came across a tiny neighborhood jazz bar
where a trio group had their hands 
on the heads of everyone and was shaking them
to the electric sounds of their primitive instruments.
a boxing gym had less bobbing and weaving 
than that jazz bar on the corner of 106th and broadway.
cats were healing up in the place that night.

my head was going ten rounds while my eyes were closed 
when those girls popped up only for a second,
but they didn't fit the scene,
so for the first time, i felt sorry for them
before i forgot about 'em.

later, outside, the sign that said 106th st.
had another one below it that read 
duke ellington boulevard
i stared at it, making room for a new memory.

goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.

Elusive Pursuit Endeavoring To Craft a Great Poem

Elusive pursuit endeavoring to craft a great poem

I (analogous to a rolling stone)
confess, no deliberate intent, yet often wonder
what spurs me to nudge, goad, coax, et cetera
semblance of reasonable poetic rhyme
despite modesty regarding
ably linkedin words for others to ponder
more often than not experiencing nonresponder,
nevertheless share mine writing 
with folks cyberspace out yonder
or aliens occupying
beyond the pale of outer limits
amidst the twilight zone,
where dark shadows
looming near the edge of night
hint of spooky forebodings.

Without lofty literary ambitions,
more so stream 
of consciousness abandonment,
yours truly rests content
to cobble, gamble, noodle... courtesy
swifty tailored stylishly harried element
mild mannered modest gent
bumbling along boulevard of
broken (po' whet) dreams intent
far less superman than Clark Kent

exercising mental cogs and wheels meant
merely to liberate momentary overconfident
zealous spontaneous inspiration,
albeit ordinarily quiescent
ex post facto concluding
equals time most salient
direct object lesson learned
lame, insipid, feeble resultant
effort generates undercurrent
aghast how rapid 
(think lightspeed) went.

Yours truly his own worst critic ad aware
how avast mein kampf replete with bare
inducent to tap into latent fledgling clear
propensity to express creatively, I declare
bonafide potential to join pantheon excelsior
reserved for established authors within their
respective canon, genre, league...,
nonetheless an obvious flair
seemed evident perhaps coalesced
when in utero biological gear

yielded wiggly, ugly, scrawny,
quirky Harris heir
(sole son and second of three offspring)
an older and younger sister,
which introverted brother bullies
did constantly jeer
token scapegoat suffered
one after another kingly leer
pushing psychological state near
precipice off into dock side of moon,

who sought 
(wharf far art grim reaper) to pier
without naked qualm evincing
one very bony rear
without sympathy for the devil
merely spells severely
pockmarked psyche therefore
impossible mission to set tattered self esteem
tacked toward in opposite direct where
dark shadow of doubt doth not veer
me into apathetic, horrific, pathetic...
suicidal mental state of yesteryear.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member To the Invisible Friend

To the Invisible Friend 

The dredging decades have floated by like drifting clouds in the beckoning western sky.
Hello dead friend of my distant youthful days under these erotic jacaranda blooms.
It is my firm hope that you are satisfied and settled inside your deep and cozy earthen confines.
We spent months hours and minutes tangled together in a passing parade of exquisite time.
We ate a plethora of flailing foods together inside the old quaint cafes in busy Uptown.
We talked unceasingly under whirring ceiling fans in the yellow eating breakfast rooms.
You and I drove in suspended romantic time down the Harbor lanes at prying midnight.
You pressed your tresses and closed your eyes upon my shoulder into the late kissing night.
What has happened to your young voice and your shy waves to me from the darkened distances?
We have moved away from each other in decades gone by like skiffs in a crescent watery breezeway.
We have left behind a thousand inter crossings and a hundred by crossings with suspended ecstasies.
So sorry that had to happen to you that morning in October when the sky hi jacked your future days.
Look to the west behind these eucalyptus trees that now cast long August shadows at twilight.
Look to the blue-laced north now and rest your tilted head upon my shoulder as it leans westward.
Sorry you’re dead now as you sleep in your grassy bed of jealous roses and wailing wisteria.
Sorry I had to see your white-sheeted body on the evening news lying there amidst the tragic landscape.
But now dear dead ghost whose faraway voice I can still hear even now from talks in the old evenings.
Did we not take long strolls on old cracked sidewalks under a curious canopy of jacaranda blooms?
Did we not seek and grasp great silver moments in the green-drenched darkness of hot skin and tears?
You and I know of those secret dances with the music turned down low in the swallowing darkness.
You and I remember the long floating  ride down the deserted boulevard at prowling midnight.
We were irresistibly falling in love with the idea that this sensual drama in the dark would never end.
Goodbye dear dead friend of my distant youthful days under these erotic jacaranda blooms.
It is my firm and final hope that we’ll meet again outside your deep and cozy earthen confines.

Immaculate

Cover this stained façade with my tears 
Streaking in rust down this immortal skin 
I see the ravens fire rise rocket into the dark sky 

Thunder resounds at its dark core 
Rusted as feudal lords hide
Hot as the rusted iron worms bore 
Winged machines of iron and glass 
Thoughts seep into the sleep of gods 

Winged shadows perform sacred rites 
Bullet the frosty wind of desolation‘s boulevard
Greedy for the seeds of a bitter dry hell 
Infernal white, brimstone burn 
Bone marrow n stone 

This eternal  sorrow, of this immortal soul
Deep at the break of dawn
Taste the ashen flesh of sinner and savors
A song of a Golden Heaven resounds, high 
This immaculate sky by creation flies, nigh

Tingling of touch, searing of thought, 
Blazing in brilliant sight, born deep in sleep 
I am wings spread in rudy hue
I feel shadows covering this strange façade 

Cling fast from the fading Light
The dying of the Day
The dying of the Last,
Dawn covers forevermore 
The currents of an idle mind, void 
The moments of judgment to come

The nuclear fire lights 
A city full of desire, destroyed 
Cry for the troubled waters of creation
The essence of life, wars die hard
In the mouth of the lambs

The lambs to the slaughter
The slaughter of innocence 
Spill the tears of an immortal soul
The seeds of an immaculate ejaculate

Cry for the hated deeds done 
By some unknown
Known by none, see how they run
The run of rusted tears down a ruined trails
Feel the rotting of these iron hells

See the fading grand empire 
Of broken glass 
Twisted crosses
Iron wings cover this machine made flesh
A fragile fractal facade
A face so delicately sable 
Intricate fingers flex, contract, interweaving 
Made of fire, traceing the light of dawn

Made of strings, springs
Some dark strange things
Somethings sit here at the door 
Where my shadows dare 
Somewhere someone has flown 
Under a cold moon running from the sun 
Grim passing in the world outside 

Iron wings cover me forevermore as pyers, rises
A man’s honor, n pride dies 
In these minions of chaos 
On the legions of Eternal Watch
Fly these iron wings spread 

Their glory, rise flying high 
Into a red ragged raging, sky
Into the demise of the glorious 
Rays breaking from Valhalla’s Holocaust

I'M Sorry That I Lied

'The policy was quite precise, lie again and your out my life, it's contents non
negotiable although it said he first would fight, but how to fight for Julie was Dante's
tormented plight, how could he be certain, how could he be sure if he remained by Julie's
side that she would lie no more. she knew his position was painful, cause by now he should
of gone, she was dying slowly inside from the shame of what she'd done.
She looked straight into his eyes, those eyes that she had hurt, and begged that he would
stay with her and make this love still work, she showed him where her guilt had took her,
to the edge of torments reign, and with tears falling vowed to him she'd never lie again.

She waited while he contemplated if what she said was truth, and he went closer to those
tormented gates and took a closer look, he said Julie don't you realise while you were
standing here that I was right beside you cause my torment brought me near, I too stood at
this torments edge and looked upon it's reign while it's hands were clawing at my skin
disguised as lovers pain, if we do get past this torment, and start our life again, then
no traces of a lie upon your lips could still remain. she took his hand so tenderly
after such a long and lonely wait,and she said Dante I promise they are gone, please let's
leave from torments gate.
Did Dante forgive Julie, did he lead them to the light, did he keep his word just like he
said and raise his sword to fight?

Well if he did I'm as positive as any one girl can, that Julie learnt her lesson and is
rolling with her man!
I like to think them still together, still in love, and it's not real hard, to see Julie and
Dante as they cruise Christ Boulevard, his spirit right before hers and he is down on
bended knee, he says Julie I still love you, will you re-marry me? she says yes I'll
marry you, as I did upon the earth, and I am thankful that you gave me a chance to prove
to you my worth, he said baby it was simple if with me you wanted fly, just always come
to me with truth and never tell a lie! He raised his hand to wipe away a tear she had
cried, she said baby for the millionth time I'm sorry that I lied, he said  that was oh so
long ago and you never lied to me since, now  can we let this go, Damn girl I'm
convinced!

My Wife the Paper Shredder

Buried in an avalanche you
might see on "Hoarders buried alive"
back and foreground
white sheet with limited pay per view,
nonetheless sky scraping heap

(Uriah not kid) nsync with a 'U'-
shaped tube anchored securely thru
solid wood - sporting
towering, leaning, bulging, et cetera slew,
sans huge sized mounds,

this goodfella cockily rue
stirs memories while
almond joying sifting,
(comprising ream mains of outdated queue
vee cee paraphernalia, bank statements, old

fair maidens faded letters, phew
against unrequited lovely lasses
kissed by either gentile or Jew
us gal, during young manhood
confession stated, aye did accrue

now (said besmirched Casanova
wannabe across floor I did strew
said, no longer promising princess,
whose once tenderly fresh rose buds
exuded profusely courtesy ingénue

argh..., how frivolous to argue
with cowardly former self, hence
into the maw of das spouse (Sibyl)
she more than enthusiastically
masticates regarding unblossomed

(romantic opportunity) yours truly blew,
when flickr ring spark flame snuffed out
before profound love chanced to hint
of compatibility, ah... nary a blues clue
maybe best not to fantasize

going down nostalgia avenue,
but cast attention upon motley crew,
no matter I traversed
boulevard of broken dreams
(but oh this...pray lemme tell you

more on this cool spring green day)
ornamented with boughs of churrigueresque
mother nature's divinely wrought
sensational beauty procreative forces construe,
yanking fanciful thoughts back to feeding

pulpy material pages of me child's worldview
scribbled squiggly blurred lines
no doubt gifted artistic prodigies shew
did evince talent this papa doth truly value,
yet an excess of near identical curlique

leaves little breathing room, plus report
cards shows innovative smarts,
frequent affirmations this dada paid due
tee, which gushing praise
my girls never taxed for, yet both knew

this aging baby boomer father decries
being swamped with exorbitant clutter
hence effort now made to save whar grew,
some artistic embellishment and/or

intellectual award, the majority hesitantly fed
into jaw of thee missus the human flew
where hard copy quickly incinerated inducing
me to sneeze atchew!

First Day of the Holiday

Cloudless the sky over beautiful water,
Sunlight at dawn as the day starts to break,
Open the blinds to let in the new day and,
Smile as the sunshine confirms they’re awake.
Croissants for breakfast with strong filter coffee,
Shower and dress to prepare for the day,
Get out the tourist guide, plan their adventure,
Join with the locals to make real their stay.
Walk in the countryside on a long ramble,
Visit a vineyard, high up in the hills,
Sample the product at end of the visit,
Several glasses, mop up any spills.
Boulevard cafes or old fashioned taverns,
Famous for seafood to try for their lunch,
What will their dinner be?  guessing it’s chicken,
But not seen the menu, it’s only a hunch.
Shower for dinner, they’ll put on their glad rags,
Her in white dress, him in shirt and blue tie,
Orange juice, soup, they were right it’s then chicken,
Followed by cream on home made apple pie.
Wine with their dinner, they’re charging their glasses,
They had gin and tonic their aperitif,
Already they wonder what’s tomorrow’s dinner,
Will it be venison, pork, lamb or beef?
The dinner completed, a port or a brandy?
Or just filter coffee to wash it all down,
Only ten minutes to walk to the centre,
So now for a stroll to the centre of town.
Traditional bars full of tourists and locals,
A drink in a couple, it starts to go dark,
Chatting with bar staff about local venues,
Tomorrow they’ll go to a close water park.
Hand in hand stroll up the hill to the hotel,
A swift nightcap then in the nice hotel bar,
Up to the room to reflect on the first day,
And all the things that they’re enjoying so far.
Undress now for sleeping, the blinds closed til morning,
They lie down together and switch off the light,
The first day of holiday now is completed,
They’re so glad they came as they’re kissing goodnight.
The door locked behind them, their night is their own now,
The start of their holiday as they’d desired,
He holds her as she falls asleep on his torso,
His choice of this venue seems really inspired.
They swiftly are sleeping while leant on each other,
In love in this beautiful holiday place,
Tomorrow exploring more parts of the landscape,
No wonder they both sleep with smiles on their face!
Form: Rhyme

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