Long Brett Poems
Long Brett Poems. Below are the most popular long Brett by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Brett poems by poem length and keyword.
Which beers my dears bring you to tears
Beardy weirdy freaks hipster peaks & nadirs
Slatted bar with glam flutes or bizarre jam jar
Cheers to toots & hoots hirsute tatted peers
Sham craze for cloudy ales or clear yesteryear pales
Old school IPA mule or cool daze ways holds sway
Some fools viral spools spiral amaze as they drool
Not a phase always had haze it's the cardinal rule
Or a silly quip & blip has a nip of a chilli dip in it
Knows zip flip let rip Indian trip phrase you twit
Gawking and balking because they're talking s**t
All about malty pout haughty clout of a naughty stout
Cooed am a lamb to the slaughter for rip snorter porter
Wooed by stock of stellar Bock or cellar brewed Keller
Wheat poo pooed too funkily sweet for this crude fella
Rude taking the mick trick to pick a drop in perfect nick
Chaps won't cower to the lure of cocktails at happy hour
Ruddy cheeked fuddy duddy who is perhaps too dour
Appears fake dreams it seems of a career as a critic
Slating grating ratings mapped trapped on untappd
Skeptic fears musty skunk & fusty funk that is lambic
Brett regret bristles don't fret won't let whet my whistle
Sneers debunk the rusty gunk flower glower of sour
Jeers but bet the ripple of Tripel is still the top tipple
For any cynic or pundit in their Merchant Ivory tower
Hail tale of quirky murky or another stale lager saga
Heaven forbid get rid of sweet & sickly treat for a kid
Snooty about the booty of rank dank stank too fruity
For fecks sake must forsake that milkshake mistake
If tasked or someone asked what's my perfect beer?
Not the new frontier..bask in cask ...holy grail of ale
Suggest zest from noble not global hops treasure chest
Attest not treason manifest reason better than the rest
Beer to pleasure every season that stalled then schooled
What is after all the true quest & have you got a clue test
Which is why I contest you go with the one called "Best"
MY HEART SINKS, MY EYES WEEP
MY BRAIN EXPLODES, I CAN’T SLEEP
I DON’T UNDERSTAND, I NEVER WILL
A SWEET CHILD WHY DO THE COPS KILL?
CHILDREN WITH CHOCOLATE COLOURED SKIN
HARDLY ALLOWED LET THEIR LIVES BEGIN
INNOCENT UNARMED SIXTEEN AND UNDER
SOMETIMES COPS CALL IT A BLUNDER
JUST A MISTAKE THEY ARE HEARD TO SAY
CHILDREN BEATEN OR SHOT TO DEATH IN USA
THEN CHILDREN LIKE ADERRIEN 11 YEARS OLD
HE LIVED THEN TO HAVE HIS STORY TOLD
LUNGS, RIBS AND LIVER INJURED, AS POLICE SHOT,
A REASON OFFERED BY POLICE THERE WAS NOT
I RESEARCHED WELL, AND FOUND NOT ONE CASE
OF COPS IN USA INJURING A CHILD OF CAUCASION RACE
I FEAR FOR MY BEAUTIFUL GRAND SONS OVER THERE
WITH THEIR BEAUTIFUL DARK SKIN AND CURLY HAIR
I PRAY THEY WILL BE SAFE AND THINGS WILL CHANGE
BECAUSE HATRED OF BLACK SKIN TO ME IS SO STRANGE
THERE ARE AT LEAST 24 KIDS ALL UNDER SIXTEEN YEARS
WHO WOULD BE ALIVE TODAY IF NOT FOR RACIAL FEARS
UNARMED AND INNOCENT, BEATEN OR SHOT , BY A COP
A BOY PUT IN A BURNING BUILDING, THIS MUST STOP.
AFRICAN AMERICAN KIDS FROM 2023 GOING BACK 20 YEARS
THESE ARE THE DEAR ONES THAT DIED AS WE ALL SHED TEARS
BRETT 15 YEARS OLD FANTA 8 YEARS OLD
LA’MELLO 3 MONTHS OLD ANGELO 16 YEARS OLD
DAMON 15 YEARS OLD JORDAN 15 YEARS OLD
TAMIR 12 YEARS OLD CAMERON 14 YEARS OLD
KIMANI 16 YEARS OLD DAKOTA 15 YEARS OLD
BOBBY 15 YEARS OLD JAMES 16 YEARS OLD
AIYANA 7 YEARS OLD LEONA 16 YEARS OLD
KIWANE 15 YEARS OLD YVETTE 15 YEARS OLD
ROBERT 16 YEARS OLD DEAUNTA 12 YEARS OLD
ELLIS 13 YEARS OLD VINCENT 16 YEARS OLD
MARTIN 14 YEARS OLD D’KOY 14 YEARS OLD
MICHAEL 12 YEARS OLD DEJEURN 13 YEARS OLD
THERE IS NOTHING MORE PRECIOUS THAN A CHILD.
TO THINK OF THESE SWEET ONES MAKES ME SO WILD
WHAT THE HELL IS THE DIFFERENCE BLACK OR WHITE?
WHEN ARE COPS GOING TO START THINKING RIGHT?
OK I HAD MY SAY. BLM EVERY DAY!
At twenty-three, Brett found his girl,
A green-eyed vision with strawberry curls,
A year of dating came and went,
And wedding bells the sky did rent.
Life was good, he worked as a welder,
And rushed at night, tales to tell her
Of buildings built and bridges spanned,
Far and wide across this great land.
But as he watched football on his day off,
While he watched the Giants, nursed a cough,
His fun interrupted by a sudden call,
And from his hands the phone would fall.
While out getting some groceries,
A trucked plowed his wife’s car into a tree.
And as if just to make the situation worse,
She was just four months from giving birth…
He fell quite hard, into depression,
Triggered merely by his wife’s mention.
For years he took refuge in hard drink,
Lost his job, and was pushed to the brink.
With nowhere to go, he moved back home,
His parents watched, they heard his groans,
And knew there was little they could do,
But be there and hope that he pulled through.
At thirty, after a long stint in rehab,
He stopped the drinking, and drove a cab,
Eventually moving up to a long-haul truck,
Made some good money, improved his luck.
One day at thirty eight he pulled in
To a truck stop diner, for late dining.
The waitress, May, proved a friendly soul,
Thirty-seven, dirty blond, eyes of coal.
After eating they talked like old pals,
Then went to his rig for something else,
He got her number, and she got his.
They agreed to be friends-with-benefits.
And every time he drove on through,
Each the other they hotly pursued,
It seemed to him to be all too fleeting,
And ever harder when it came to leaving.
A year went by and Brett came in,
And found a worried-looking benefits-friend
She said he’d given her something great,
Fruit of the passion of his many stays.
Brett felt a fool, they were quite a pair,
Like two overeager and foolish teenagers,
But as he thought of it more, it became clear,
Brett never wanted to again leave here.
So Brett married May, and their child came,
Then another a year down, more of the same!
He found himself juggling two screaming boys,
At age thirty-nine, the late nights and the toys!
But Brett didn’t care, better late than never
And with May he would remain forever.
And give thanks to God whenever he prayed,
For showing him that even tragedy fades…
Brett and Bart have been throughout the west.
They are among the best as gamblers go.
Everywhere from New Orleans to California,
they have lived on jacks, queens, kings, and aces.
They have been on riverboats and in casinos.
These two dashing men sit well with the ladies.
At poker tables, they display their skill and luck.
Although Brett and Bart always get into trouble,
they escape with their experience and sophistication.
It amazes how they usually win the pot.
They were our weekly heroes for quite a few years.
They split the scene when the network cancelled the show.
Thank goodness for reruns so we can see them today.
My daughter met her boyfriend
At a camp for “special needs.”
Their story started years ago
And this is where it leads –
To her birthday celebration,
Which was perfect, yesterday,
Near at and that boyfriend’s home,
A distance two-plus hours away.
We met early at a diner
For a yummy breakfast meal;
Next came bowling and some mini-golf,
Which both have much appeal.
And the day kept getting better,
For the boyfriend had prepared
The most festive birthday venue,
Showing just how much he cared.
In his yard there were balloons and signs
And music for the mood,
Plus a slide show of their years together
And some special food.
With his chef’s hat and his apron,
Brett cooked burgers on the grill
And his mom provided sides and drinks
Of which we had our fill.
There were candles on a lovely cake
And presents to unwrap,
Plus, we got to hang with Leo
And meet Ezra (‘fore her nap).
As we all sang “Happy Birthday” –
Brett, his bro-in-law and sis
And his mom and niece and nephew,
Me & Mel, I thought of this –
That each one of us, in different ways,
Has “special needs” and yet,
With resolve and love, the day can be
As good as it can get.
"Blue Dress"
Temptation
Green as an
Apple
Blue
into the arms
of Hell
Red
"LIFE"
Read
the bite of an Apple
Stopped me short
and
YOU,
despite
all
Yellow Brick Road
Tornadoes
Stood by me
Silent, still, strong and
eloquent
Where is Love sung?
Love is sung
in the
Blue Notes
Dressed in Blue
The letters of a spell
undressed and unravelled
covert under cover
Manifestation sings softly
as you turn over
Jade eyes reflecting
Green four leaf clovers
floating deep in
Secret Oceans of Blue
"Where Do I Belong?"
The Key is held
on a tongue
passed with a dream,
on Mid Summer Night's
Jubilee kiss
from Forest of Arden
MAGIC.
The key is passed
through the Daemon's
Mirrors -
HOME.
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
Into Temptation / Crowded House
https://youtu.be/fSa1o_vT0EI
1. Brett Whitely
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brett_Whiteley
2. Brett Whitely Studio
https://www.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/brett-whiteley-studio/
3. Lyrics: Into Temptation / Crowded House
https://genius.com/Crowded-house-into-temptation-lyrics
4. Daemon
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daemon_(classical_mythology)
If you’re having a birthday,
You’re lucky if you
Have a Brett in your life
Who will know what to do.
He will greet you with music
Right when you arrive
And so many balloons
You’ll forget the long drive.
A slideshow of mem’ries
Will play on a loop,
As will songs by your favorite
Singer or group.
A birthday tiara
And pin will appear
With some sparkly leis
To create festive cheer.
Brett will barbecue sausage
And burgers with cheese
And his mom will add so many
Fixin’s to please.
Of course, there’ll be presents –
Too many to name
And a beautiful cake.
(If you miss it, a shame!)
The Brett in our lives
Met our daughter at camp
And for 25 years
He’s come through like a champ.
We are grateful to know him,
So glad that they met.
Wish that you had a Brett
In your life, too, I’d bet!
God Save the King! So echoed round
the village halls, the pubs, the streets
the day our Charlie Prince was crowned.
Homes decked with bunting, cake, and treats.
We celebrated with a rave,
or knees-up, as my grandma said;
with piped music via short-wave.
At two pm, it went ahead.
They closed the street the coppers did.
Then out came tables, plates, and chairs
lace runners, doilies, too, amid
assorted china tablewares.
The caravans and four-by-fours
were parked elsewhere to clear the way,
they even shut the local stores
and closed the schools, hip hip, hooray!
Outside of number seventeen,
twixt the sausage rolls and jelly,
rested a crocheted King and Queen
removed from atop the telly.
Not to be beat, at twenty-two,
they placed a lifesize photo out;
which overlooked the cheese fondue,
soused herrings, and some sauerkraut.
Betty and May sang old-time songs
atop a shaky stage, arrayed
with bunting; made from their spare thongs;
while Ruth, the ukelele, played.
The Aussies were there, well, on screen.
Bobby, Kenny, and Aunt Maud too
to toast the King and mourn the Queen
with tea (and a tinny or two!)
Simon and Peter went all out,
made a spread called L G B tea;
with brightly coloured cakes throughout.
Open to all, as it should be!
Douglas and Rex from forty-eight
sat with Lil as she won her prize;
for the most original plate,
coronation jerk shrimp surprise.
Prizes too for best-dressed table,
front door, and garden gate, won by
Teddy, Fred, and Aunty Mable;
all well-deserved, we can't deny.
Captain Brett (self -titled we think)
gave a roaring one-gun salute
sporting a coat of dazzling pink
over his Royal Navy suit.
Thalis, made by Shrimati Nath,
were such a delicious hit they
caused a queue up her garden path.
(They paired well with Andre's Cabernet.)
We kids, long past our sugar high,
so full of cake, shrimp, nans, and stuff,
were told to say a quick goodbye;
we'd been awake quite long enough.
As the sun set on our nation,
Old Fionn Byrne began to sing,
a joyful amalgamation;
Danny Boy and God Save the King!
I sent my poem to Supreme Court judge in the US, Neil Gorsuch
He was clear about his personal opinions
"WooW, a first class poem ~ a top winner poem"
Should I trust him, a friend of Donald Trump
I called the Supreme Court judge in the US, Brett Kavanaugh
(I read my poem to him)
"Now, what do you think ... is this a winning poem" ? ... I asked
Brett Kavanaugh replied,"I drank some beer last night and got black out
... harassment, this poem is just crap ... you will get an N / A "
07.03.2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
You Be The Judge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Bobby May
2nd place in the contest
Brett threw himself a party
Since he hit the big 4-0
And there never was a question if
We would or wouldn’t go.
He planned it with his mother’s help
And catered in the food,
With jars of flowers on the tables
For a festive mood.
A slide show played with photos
Showing years of happy pics
As the guests all met and mingled,
Quite a varied friendly mix.
Several people took the stage to speak
And what stood out to me
Was what every tribute mentioned,
Not just generosity,
But the many ways that Brett has shown
To family and friends,
So much caring and affection,
Which, once started, never ends.
The party was delightful
And all gathered there for Brett
Surely’d join me in the hope this was
His favorite birthday yet.
(Brett, like my daughter, his girlfriend,
has “special needs.”)