Long Bulldogs Poems
Long Bulldogs Poems. Below are the most popular long Bulldogs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bulldogs poems by poem length and keyword.
Planning requires grit and devotion to succeed,
Does triumph make you shiver down your spine?
Propelling, freed
accomplishment
I fought with more pertinacity than bulldogs.
I cannot help but look at the success,
Does insufficiency make you shiver?
Stigma does not end with lateness or quiver.
Would night demise throw by a droop
Of the early morning shimmer?
Dad geese the goal
setting the path
(Fragmented Verse)
02/25/21
All The Little Pieces Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Born in a high rise, low mind concrete prison.
Delivered gift wrapped to a predestined repetition.
Bars on doors, on windows and wrapped around my mouth.
The loudness of silence.
Unknown entities draped in faded British bulldogs holding pints and childhoods, one in each hand.
The family men gathered whetting their lips with hops, hurt and hate.
Loose Knuckles and loose lips both sink women, I mean ships.
Warm dead paving, a lifetime of chewed up, spat out offerings littering the estate like a Jackson Pollock altar.
Sacred violence.
The bikes piled up on the green, a can in the spokes, a flame, a bike missing, an R.I.P plaque on a wall.
The smell of BBQs, the feel of brick walls baked from sun and slander, the sound of beatings in the distance, the taste of stolen innocence.
Sirens and sadness - a Somers Town soundtrack, 10 blackjacks, a panda pop, and a boy who didn’t make it home. Another child who died alone.
Will I ever be happy here? Free? A story of redemption?
Escape.
Will I make it or just another obituary from the council estate.
Champ was there ready to go
Feeling really defensive about this attack though
Problem was the Canes were not there
Did they not care?
“I am glad I said no to the offer Sebastian made since the only intention by him was to get into my business when they invade,” he said wondering if they got paid.
Walk on, walk on Champ did to the bar
Having his Independence after he parked the car.
Sebastian did arrive at the place
Trying to build his case of not being there which made people ponder if they did not care.
“Are you here or are you there,” Champ did ask
Trying to figure out if Sebastian was wearing a mask
“Champ my good friend I am here to defend,
You see we needed to show our kicks to help us sell our sticks”
Shaking his head Champ once again said,
“My ramp is for fun since all I do is run.”
Taking another swig of doggie brew
Champ was hoping this sales pitch was through.
“But you need us canes especially if you get a sprain,”
Champ looked at him funny knowing Sebastian was just looking for money
“You need another score, you need more,” Sebastian knew things were getting late and he needed to get to another state.
Champ laughed at this request to make more points on the test.
“I don’t need you Sebastian I was able to make one more run just for fun and ended up with another score that was more now it is time for Sebastian to head to the door.”
Champ watched the Ibis leave thinking about what he was able to achieve.
He played for fun, made enough runs and now the Bulldogs were Independence Bowl’s number one.
dogs on vacation filling up the beach with warm barks
dobermans, german shepherds, prissy poodles that cause sparks
husky and rottweiler are sharing a purple lounge chair in the sun
excited corgis begin a volley ball game; this is all kinds of fun!
bulldogs and blue heelers, tripping around in the moist sand.
perky dogs with fluffy tails that are wildly frenzied and fanned.
chihuahuas and yorkies and there is a beagle with a howl.
this would not be the place for a kitten or fowl.
let’s vacation on down to the Vermosa beach
and drink some cold water with slight taste of peach
here comes a striped surfboard and a jet ski too
unhappy mailmen fall from the sky, out of the blue
I grew up in Bath in the nineteen nineties
wearing short shorts over tighty whities,
while Bath were champions of English Rugby,
a beautiful city farfetched from ugly.
We played on Stilts and had Yo-Yo's,
skateboards with logo's,
Tamagotchi's, Slinkys and Pogo Sticks,
a string tied to sticks for Diablo tricks.
A lot wobbled, we played Wall Ball,
Smarties packets caused trouble.
Political Correctness didn't exist yet,
we wore Reebok, Fila or Hi-Tec.
We had Roller Skates, later Roller Blades,
out on the concrete in the streets we played,
as there were always lots of parking spaces,
space we used for running races.
We played Bulldogs Charge on repeat,
never stopping for the rain or sleet.
We played Wembley, or Heads, Volleys and Beats,
playing in the street our daily treat.
We played Kirby because kirbs were free,
40 40 in, also called Alien,
front gardens were a great WWF ring,
or we'd hit tennis balls tied to string.
Jumpers for goalposts,
or one and a lamppost,
cheated as we'd peek
playing Hide And Seek.
We played Knock Knock Ginger with its hiding,
or we'd get out our bikes and go riding.
We went Garden Hopping, never stopping,
played in the dark after the suns dropping.
We had Master Systems, Mega Drives or Nintendo's,
but were not reliant on technology inside,
we built Lego stadiums, played Subbuteo,
we collected sticker books, Pog's and trading cards with pride.
There was a fuzziness to Radio and TV,
we'd always sneak a peek at Page 3,
we watched films on VHS, played Cassettes or CD's,
or Conkers when they dropped from trees.
We only had four television channels to be flicking,
Saturday mornings were for Live and Kicking.
Bodger and Badger, The Chuckle Brothers, Rosie and Jim,
but you couldn't beata, bit of Blue Peter,
to Neighbours and Home and Away we tuned in.
When home alone emptied living rooms,
played football inside, 2-a-side,
cleaned up damage with brooms,
when parents got home we lied.
I'm proud I grew up in the nineties in Bath,
we had so much fun, so many laughs.
From no other time and place I'd rather be,
so here's to the nineties in the West Country.
In late on a late night from a long journey,
Barely in the door
She's telling funny stories of her own misfortunes.
A comedy of errors that harried her homewards.
The young woman who will always be our child
Has the lot of us laughing
When we should be asleep
At things that would've driven others
To fury or despair
But those have no hold on her,
Because bulldogs don't give up -
They just hold on.
So now she's holding on again -
A new grownup
In a too grownup world.
Schooltime over;
Lessons now born from living.
- But that's all right,
Because biting down, holding fast
Is what she does -
She's gonna chew this bone too,
The tough white bone of adulthood,
Down to a pile of fine, digestible dust
She'll make it all her own
The while she works it.
Can you hear the melody the wind breathes
into the branches brown and green and some black
Its like the familiar noise your nose makes
when you have a cold that whistling so faint
The red blue black birds sing along in formation
They are colorful dots in the sky like music notes
that breeze reads and breathes song of life into
The hills have eyes and can read music too
The grass burnt from summer still has dew and weeds
But my favorite is the dance of the leaves floating
falling to their doom to end up in piles
The red ones they are like fire dancing salsa
The brown ones do a hip hop bop
The green ones do an Irish jig
The tan ones have native American steps
The amber ones wave like fanning geisha dancing
In death all leaves turn black dancing jazz
Orange cat purrs chasing leaves
He also runs from the boisterous bulldogs song
Nature provides them a natural coat
And when it is time even the deer welcome it.
October song is a beautiful sing a long, join in.
OCTOBER POETRY CONTEST SPONSOR Regina McIntosh
10/4/2021
Are you a football fan?
Are you into BIG TIME college football, where my
home town, Georgia Bulldogs are defending, two-time
national champions? Their season began last week
or maybe you’re an NFL fan (they start playing this week).
Ivy league college football starts next week and if you're
not excited about it, maybe you don’t understand it.
Before games there are parties with pizza and chicken wings.
Do NOT go to a frat house on a game day - just don’t.
If you’re going to throw a college football game
you’ll need two teams of players in safety uniforms
and at least one football (that’s what they fight over).
You need a crowd - two crowds really - and a stadium
where everyone could, in theory, sit. There should be
flags, banners, hats and jerseys in riotous team colors.
You’ll need two marching bands and school mascots.
A bulldog will do (Yale), or if you can’t afford that, you could
dress someone up as a huge-headed pilgrim (Harvard).
Of course, as with any big sporting event you’ll need skimpily
dressed girls to toss in the air and assorted food and drink to sell.
There will be lots and lots of cars, and police and ambulances
standing by in case it’s all too much or someone gets hurt.
Cheerleaders are there to whip the crowd into a vocal frenzy,
soon everyone’s yelling things like “DE-fense,” “push em back,”
“Harvard sucks” and “No, really, Harvard sucks.”
The ideal game should include a bitter rivalry like Yale vs Harvard.
While everyone knows Yale is better academically, there’s a small
chance that Harvard could win the game - which makes it scary.
We won last year and we’ll play them again this year, in November.
Anyway, whatever flavor of football you like:
It’s football season people!
.
.
I'm NOT a cheerleader. We knew where they practice, and a girl was nice enough to let me use her pompoms for some snaps.