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.


Premium Member - Judging Or Not Judging - I Need Expert Assistance -

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


Bank Day Rassling Saturday Nite

Everybody wants to be champion
Everybody got a plan
Everything's signifacent
Peoplez, my people!
Take your assignment
and task!
Get in line and do what's
asked of you.
Sh$t I have been doing that
This way since they let me
In here.
Hungry people, needs to eat!
And prices only fluctuate upwards.
Looked at Bizzy
He ain't got time for me.
Looked at dizzy, but he's under ah
Spell!
What ya'll talking bout?
Why me?
Papers and Promises!
Cheap talk, switch your
Candyass up outta here!
Get the prestige like
Ole Lou,
The belt like Brett.
Defend like Hogan.
The women like Flair!
When Sammartino
And Hansen
Gets me
Nick, your Bockwinkels due
Simmons and Bradshaw
Stonecold now what new.
I remember Dusty
The long blood we share
Bobo didn't take the strap
Ya'll act like we weren't
There.
Fluctuations, neocations
Man just get it done.
Work ain't hard
If you know what you're doing
Contract please!
Let's get it on !
Form: Ballad

Bank Day Rassling Saturday Nite

Everybody wants to be champion
Everybody got a plan
Everything's signifacent
Peoplez, my people!
Take your assignment
and task!
Get in line and do what's
asked of you.
Sh$t I have been doing that
This way since they let me
In here.
Hungry people, needs to eat!
And prices only fluctuate upwards.
Looked at Bizzy
He ain't got time for me.
Looked at dizzy, but he's under ah
Spell!
What ya'll talking bout?
Why me?
Papers and Promises!
Cheap talk, switch your
Candyass up outta here!
Get the prestige like
Ole Lou,
The belt like Brett.
Defend like Hogan.
The women like Flair!
When Sammartino
And Hansen
Gets me
Nick, your Bockwinkels due
Simmons and Bradshaw
Stonecold now what new.
I remember Dusty
The long blood we share
Bobo didn't take the strap
Ya'll act like we weren't
There.
Fluctuations, neocations
Man just get it done.
Work ain't hard
If you know what you're doing
Contract please!
Let's get it on !
Form: Ballad

Briana's Birthday

Today’s Briana’s birthday
So we celebrated large.
Her boyfriend and his mother,
For this epic day, took charge.

We hadn’t met in person
For some fifteen months or more
Since Covid, helped by distance,
Came around and slammed the door.

We drove for two plus hours
For a meal in their back yard
And this is what was waiting:
Pink balloons, some clothes, a card…

An Elvis photo in a frame,
A CD and two mugs,
A necklace with a heart, tiaras
And some heartfelt hugs.

Brett grilled some yummy burgers
While his mom provided sides.
There was music and a birthday cake
And so much love besides.

What a wonderful reunion
And a way to celebrate
Both a birthday and a taste of 
Future meetings that await.

			
*Briana is my daughter. She and Brett met
at a special needs camp over 20 years ago.
Form: Rhyme

Blue Dress

"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)


The Best beer

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"
Form: Ballad

Brett’s Big Birthday Bash

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.”)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Maverick Free Verse

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.

Special Needs

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.
Form: Rhyme

The Tragedy Fades

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…
Form: Narrative

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