Long Burt Poems
Long Burt Poems. Below are the most popular long Burt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Burt poems by poem length and keyword.
Down many of the coalmines in Yorkshire , Safety dictated that an alternative means of escape
had to be found just in case anything ever happened to the shafts that raised and lowered miners to their work.
This usually involved keeping a single route open underground to the next nearest colliery .
Old George waiting by the mineshaft
Spitting his chewing tobacco juice
Today with his apprentice
They must survey the mines escape route .
1000 yards underground
In darkness as black as pitch
They reach up to their helmets
Turning on the headlamp switch.
George prodding at the timbers
That support the roof and sides
His apprentice grows more nervous
With every single stride .
A mile down the escape route
The roof is seven feet high
They see a little fallen rock
but manage to squeeze by .
The roof is getting lower
George hears the scurrying of mice
Brought down the mine in bales of hay
When pit ponies and the miners destiny were spliced.
The apprentice is visibly shaking
but only one more mile to go
When a piece of falling timber
Dealt his torch battery a glancing blow.
George could see the boys panic
and as the leader of his team
He reassured his apprentice
Then they shared the single beam .
Suddenly they hear a crack like thunder
Then the splintering of wood
George pushes his apprentice
but a fall of rock stands where George stood.
Young boy on his hands and knee's
Screaming Georges name
More terrified by the second
When no answers came.
Now in total blackness
He inhabits the world of the blind
If he is to help his leader
The boy must use his senses and his mind .
The faintest hint of breezes
He feels on his face
Air sucked down the mineshaft
Just might be his saving grace
He crawls along the jagged floor
Using his sense of touch
Soon in the distance he hears machinery
A sound he has never loved so much .
He tastes the ever freshening air
Hope inside him grows
Then the tiniest speck of flickering light
His tears overflow.
Help, Help, he's calling
As the miners come into view
Two men want to hep him to the surface
Burt he awaits his friends rescue.
Old George didn't make it
He sacrificed himself to save the boy
Broken hearted the boy had a breakdown
and had to leave the mines employ.
The boy became a father
Then a wonderful granddad
but he never tired of telling the story
of the best friend he ever had.
(The audience for this is small children who have seen the movie.)
Mary Poppins Makes a Visit
By Elton Camp
When Mary decides she wants a job
Other applicants of a chance will rob
She causes a strong wind to blow
Riding umbrellas, off they do go
When competitors are no longer around
From the sky she comes floating down
In order to make sure that she gets hired
Convinces Banks she is what’s desired
Upstairs to the nursery she does go
Gives the children a magic show
Then of her own self, she does say,
“Practically perfect in every way.”
When she takes them on the street
An old friend, Burt, they do meet
His drawings made of chalk
They admire on the sidewalk
By her power, they pop inside
There they find horses to ride
In the fantasy world can stay no more
Once a heavy rain does start to pour
The two wet children then are told
Take this medicine to avoid a cold
When they began to frown
Found a way to get it down
To swallow it they couldn’t well refuse
Because of the song Mary did choose
Both kids thought it very neat
When the stuff tasted sweet
Mary then had a very strong feeling
They’d like a tea party on the ceiling
When happy, they floated up in the air
Stayed there as long as they had no care.
Of Mary’s antics Mr. Banks got tired
Decided it was time she should be fired
Getting him to take them to work was a trick
With serious consequences that made him sick
Though the tuppence was only a tiny amount
Banker wanted Michael’s money in an account
Of that the boy saw no need
The birds he wanted to feed
When his money he did demand
Other customers didn’t understand
They didn’t think it was in fun
And on the bank began a run
That very night, Mr. Banks was called back
Board of Directors would give him the axe
But into his mind did spring
What was the important thing
Mary had shown him how to enjoy
Spending time with his girl and boy
Mean old banker laughed until he died
But the Directors’ Board took it in stride
“Mr. Banks, we have a fine notion
Take you back with a promotion.”
And Mary, her job all done,
From the house she did run.
A LIFE OF A GIRL
When she is in a mother's womb developing into a foetus , the phase she is unaware about that she is going to be born in this cruel world.
She is unaware that she will be betrayed and condemned in this evil world.
The day she comes out of the womb is the day when people started feeding , hating and seeing her with unexpectful eyes. She is judged from then onwards Oh! No A Girl Child , a new burden on the family.
Slowly as the time passes by she turns into a mature girl. Then the most difficult phase of her life starts : Puberty. She gets a little shock that whats that blood coming out. Then onwards she is looked with suspicious eyes. Look ! She is wearing a short dress . Damn ! She is a ****. Omg ! She is with a boy.
Definitely she wuill ruin the reputation of her family. Don't go there , don't sit like that , don't go out, come back soon and that thing which hurts the most : "Be good, learn something because you will go to someone's else house."You are someone else's property.
And Yes apart from this she faces a number of circumstances . Those Rapes From Those Evils with a human body. She shouts , she is burt , she is molested , orally harassed but still the question is not the respect of the girl.
It's about what the ing society will say.
It isn't about justice , it's about , What About the Family's Reputation ?
Those ing bastards ruin the whole life of a girl and still live with full respect and with heads up.
But one who is questioned is the girl ?
Definitely she must have wore a short dress , seduced the boy or may have invited them on her own for …..
Is it like this? Is this why a girl is born in this society ? I this for what Godessess are preached ? Is this for what their parents raised them with so much love ? Is this what every girl would face further ?
When would that day will come when this freaking molestation , rape & injustice will end . The day when a girl can freely go out at night. The day when she will be free to live her own life .
~ Krishika
In the yard across the way there stands a young delightful maple tree.
Oh in the hot summer......when the hot breeze blows, I watch it as it sway it's green whipfull
leaves, blowing with the breeze to an ultimate degree.
If the spring winds are harsh then it bends it's limbs limberly over toward the ground.
When the winds are mild it just waves it's branches to me cheerfully.
As if it's waving to say. "The weather is fair today."
The ground around it, uprooted, uneaven and even rather bumpy and clumpy.
The condeming of the burnt house that near it once stood, as it left its broad scars upon the
scortched land.
It now leans a bit away from where the house once stood, as it seemed to cry when that
house burt that day some years ago, but it lingers growing still strong and tall today.
It has not yet lost it's leaves, even with the strongest evil breeze this year.
It still grasps it's leaves tight to it's branches
For it is now February and still holds its many crisp brown leaves.
Why have they not fallen off, as all the other trees?
It is much stronger and laughs at the winter saying." You are not harsh enough for me."
The snow rests on its branches today as the cold winds blow. It seems so odd to see a tree
with leaves covered in snow.
But the white blanket of snow rests snuggly upon the leaves, as it does to its strong
branches.
This tree, it is my nearby friend when I am alone, as I gaze over the lawn at it from my
window.
Yes, it even in the strongest cold breeze, sometimes waves at me..... but still now nare a
leaf has fallen to the ground from its many limbs.
It seems to me so strange and odd the leaves have not yet fallen.
Even in that, as a close friend would, gives me challenge to wander, why?
Linda Terrell
February 15, 2010
This is a fiction story but I do have this unusual tree in my neighbors yard.
It holds tightly to it's own dry brown crisp leaves still in the dead of winter.
The day the trees shed;oh' my
The day the water ran
red;Bled?
The day disease
spread;Throughout
The day those that were
already dead pled;For
Sympathy?
The day we have read;The
prophecy
The day The prophets said;"The
day of judgement is here!"
The day the righteous found
there guide;"First they enter
correct?"
The day the well dried;"Not one
drop left?.
The day the plants fried;"All
Burt up?
The day the cattle died;"do
they go to heaven?
The day the children
cried;"They realize soon
enough"
The day the galaxy opened
wide;"wow!"
The day God rang the bell;"The
angels trumpets went off?
The day the evil cast a
worthless spell;"They tried I
guess?"
The day the truth will tell;"lies
revealed?"
The day the souls left there
shell;"Relieved"
The day the sky fell;"A new
beginning?"
The day the Gods sent the evil
to hell;"For Good"
The day the dead will meet
there maker is here
Hells gates will be opened
End to all the forsakers
Deceit,will be judged first.And
asked "why did you deceive?"
Angels will prepare Heaven to
receive
Youth with there innocence,and
the righteous for there
obedience enter first
Oh' woe to the souls who do
not repent
For there is no other chance
Repent, take responsibility for
your sins.
Ever since the beginning we
have been preparing for the
end
Condemned are those who had
no faith
Kneel before your maker
Obey! never held so much
meaning.
No living species is not judged
Immune to all disease,no more
pain those that enter the
kingdom
Nurturing,no tear left to dry on
its own,no babies or children
left all alone
Gods wrath has been felt,the
day all cards are dealt face up
for all to see,The day he will
ask you
"Why have you forsaken me?"
"Hope was something I
abandoned my Farther"
"Yes!My son I know,But Why?
The Un-Cowboy Like Cowboy
this is the story of cedric hyde-fleet
the most un-cowboy cowboy you ever would meet
cedric was english, not british you see
but, being a cowboy was what he wanted to be
he was from england
as i said before
never ridden a horse
and well, what's more
his image of cowboys
was of those on tv
but, being a cowboy
was what he wanted to be
he was all set to travel
and leave his home land
out to the west
but, he was allergic to sand
the dust would wreak havoc
with his pale, flaky skin
ten miles from home
was the furthest he'd been
he had a six shooter
which he'd nicknamed Old Burt
but, he didn't have bullets
they made his ears hurt
the smell of the powder
and the noise of the gun
made cedric wonder
if this would truly be fun
he needed a cream
for the chafing down there
and a specialized hat
to protect his thin hair
a brush wouldn't do
he would need a nice comb
he reacted to flannel
so he'd get shirts from rome
he'd fly out from london
head out west to a ranch
find a town just like gunsmoke
and a bar....the long branch
but, his stomach was tender
hard liquor was out
and the salt in the food
would just trouble his gout
but, cedric hyde-fleet
was determined to go
to the united states
to join a wild west show
he'd start out learning riding
how to shoot, and all that
he'd learn about cattle
he had his own hat
he was the most un-cowboy cowboy
they would have in the west
but, with his dedication
he would soon be the best
he would get all equipped
from dolce and gabbanna
his shirts and socks matched
his silk plaid bandanna
now, cedric hyde-fleet
never ever left home
never got on the horse
or got shirts made in rome
the things that he wanted
were the things that he'd seen
and he forgot about cowboys
when he first saw ....The Queen
I woke up to a gentle tapping on our window pane….
I thought it was a bird…turns out it was the rain.
Deborah ,unaffected by the soft tap, tap, tapping on our window pane
and still in the midst of a dream…was not awakened by the rain.
So I tiptoed out to the living room window
where I could watch the rain with ease…
and listen as some raindrops bounded off the trees.
When Deborah finally woke she joined me
and as we watched raindrops dive into the lake
we decided watching and listening to the rain…
is a wonderful way to to wake.
And a wonderful way to begin the day…as we headed to the capital of Canada
In the 5 hour drive…so many trees, hills lakes and rivers we saw….
On our way to the city the Algonquin called “adawe” which means to trade…
burt we know as Ottawa.
We drove through the crowded freeways of Ottawa…which gave us both a fright!
finally turning down the Rue d’Onans in Cantley, Quebec
where we found our cabin for the next 2 nights
We were able to bring all our luggage into this beautiful cabin in this quiet little town
minutes before the thunder clapped, the lightning flashed…
and the rain came pouring down.
Which meant we were in safe and sound for the evening…
where we listened to the raindrops tapping on our window pane…
where we sat in front of big windows overlooking the forest
and together watched the the rain.
And as the rain continued through the evening
thinking back to the way our day began in Ontario….
we thought how the rain is just as beautiful everywhere we go.
And we felt blessed to have the rain….
which this day stirred in us feelings intense and deep…
how it nudged us awake this morning
and this evening sang us both to sleep.
You lay in the surf waiting for me
Although Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr we could not be.
Trying at love with the incoming tide
Kelp and seaweed stuck to my side.
"Great gods", thought I, as I wrote the rhyme
Use "Adonis" and "Poseidon" from another time.
I'll let love be the center of the poem I write
And show all who read it, my emotional insight.
The pounding of the waters blue
Will be my metaphor of a love so true.
And I'll have to sex it up a bit
For passion plays a big part in it.
I will use "penetration" and words like "breech"
To add to that image of us on the beach.
With the romantic beginning I have said
And to the altar of love that I've been led.
Because I finish with our pledge on the shore
The reader will always want to have more.
So, the green eyed girls will be my poetic night
And close the verse, so crisp and tight.
Note: It took sum lookin' fer me to find,
Which of yer verses to redo in kind.
I be such a nut on rime y'see...
This'n be the one fer me.
Not only be the words of it I do,
But "Glad Tidings" title caught me good eye, too!
'Cause it be 'ard fer me to act on yer quirk,
Me spleen to trash one o' yer better werks.
As I be not 'fraid of a few typed words,
Trashin' me stuff as if'n they be turds.
So, 'ere y'ar matey, me own attempt whilst I be sprawl,
To change them words that ye did scrawl.
Me words 're somwhat boggin'
'Cause me be thinkin' what was in 'er noggin'.
And if'n ye take offense at me 'ritin' a bit,
"RRRRRRRRRRR emember that ye asked fer it!
Nomadic Hearts
Seems just yesterday simple Jane's heart kept perfect time. Ticking, never losing a beat. Days seemed good. Nights seemed hopeful.
The streets of her town, barren of big city chaos, knew calm. Knew boring. Knew best the general store, two-pump Texaco station, weekdays by habit, weekends by...
McDonalds was big at one end of town, KFC at the other. Frosty Freeze in the middle. On the outskirts of town, Lucky's Bar stayed alive into the wee hours.
Biker guy liked her. Told her she was pretty, deserved wind in her hair. She bought it. He delivered it. Both regretted it.
He biked down to Mexico. She hitched into NY. Wrote home: I'm a Kelly Girl!
Life remained livable, even with her heart still roaming, exposed and vulnerable. Then, Burt came along. Young, educated smoothie. Wall Street predator by day, trophy hunter by night. Simple Jane, unfortunately got in his sights. One night. Two nights. No nights.
Atop her apartment roof, that place all the lonely people frequent, she visited every night. Lights of the city meant something. She didn't know what.
Hers was a wounded heart. Plain Jane knew it, far too many others as well. Still, finally, she found some special moments of rest. Time wound her back up. More ticking. Important ticking. Love ticking. Until it didn't.
Tag on scruffy mutt's collar said Reggie, another frequent roof visitor. Gave her licks and wags. He crouched beside her, watched the stars together-every night. ?til the winter snows came.
Reggie still visits the roof. Wanders about sniffing. Can't find plain Jane, but when he lies down at the edge of the roof, some say her reflection is still there in his eyes.
I hear once more the lyrics of this song I'm listening to-
a gentle blast from my very youthful past,
and I am back in middle school,
an attractive skinny girl
despite the horn rimmed glasses
which have gotten me the nickname of “Four eyes”
and the large beehive hairdo
I have to rat with my comb painstakingly each morning.
I am in the music room of my eighth grade
practicing with Swing Choir,
the group that I’ve auditioned for
and am thrilled to be a part of.
A cute boy stands tall among all the others
in the back row of the male section.
We are all singing -
“This Guy’s in Love.
This guy’s in love with You.”
My heart is pounding with the melody
as I watch my current crush so longingly,
imagining he sings the words to me alone.
Could my life yet to be lived
ever compare to my happiest vivid daydreams?
“When you smile, I can tell we know each other very well.”
I think he sees me watching him. I look away.
This scene will be replayed again and again
in other classrooms
where I’ll be watching other boys
that I'll be crushing on
and hoping they are watching me as well.
But now, just for now -
I sing the words with my group -
“Don’t let my heart keep breaking. . .”
My soul fills with teenage angst.
Oh to be young again
with such sweet aching
not yet knowing I’ll soon be getting walked home from school
by that cute tall boy
named Chico.
Written Feb. 7, 2016 for the Solitary Moments Poetry Contest of Mystic Rose
The song is "This Guy's in Love" written by Burt Bacharach
and performed byHerb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass. (please hear it in the link above)