Long Carlo Poems
Long Carlo Poems. Below are the most popular long Carlo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Carlo poems by poem length and keyword.
No gondolas are gliding under bridges,
it's a lagoon without classic songs;
pigeons are huddled and do not coo,
they're frightened by the murky blue!
Carlo sings some lovely Neapolitan songs,
tourists sing along with him and smile;
they all dream of sunny Southern skies,
of another distant city they admire and love!
Venice sinks in direful sadness lowering a spirit
that seeks adventure without a definite limit;
the tower bells have stopped ringing in dim light...
ghostly streets of midday miss the treading feet!
Gloomy lagoon on a foggy day, transform emotions;
don't surrender to dismal silence numbing the senses,
it's not bleak winter yet to stop all sounds and voices...
give us more delights as the sunset enthralls dreamers!
Where did she go
I knew of her, had seen her in adverts wearing short hair
being, sort of dubious sex, let them guess and smoking
a cigarette with the fragrance of the oriental express, yet
here she sat in a pavement café drinking Pernod, and as
Russian tanks rumbled through the stone cobble streets
she coolly beckoned to me to sit on the chair at her left.
I had a cold beer and lit an American cigarette, feeling tired
had carried a heavy suitcase across the town for a woman
claiming to be an actress, I had hoped she was a spy and
I needed information about troop movements and all
I got was stalk about her upcoming film “La Strada.”
On the opposite wall across the café, a movie began
a film about Rome and a gang of youth stealing bikes
Vittorio Gassmann had a leading role that was delivered
with aplomb about the question of the value of morality
in a society that has lost its bearing and is crippled by war.
A sudden blackout it might be caused by the Russians
but the restaurant used to this stoppage, producing candles
and the flickering flame from hundreds of candles made
the night romantic; the Monte Carlo woman had vanished
like cigarette ads on the TV screen.
Such a romantic place on a beach in Monte Carlo
Simple little things in life catching one's breath
Moonlight glinting of waves breaking off a white sandy beach
Faraway thoughts brown eyes crying in an ocean dream song
Spell of romance makes one forget the sense of anything
Silent whispers echoes binding our chain together tides speak
Do you remember the white doves that followed us along the beaches
Each link in your arm magic walks closer feelings sing inside a joyous choir enchants
Nature nurtured by the desire to fulfill dreams makes time stop
Holds deep sea emotions a galloping white steed races home in warm waves kiss
The natures mesmerizing perfume of fragrant flowers
Where destiny paints the joy in butterflies dance on a warm loving breeze
Such is the passion in the depths of ones soul
Jewels needle vision flies without wings heaven sings in a spiral coloring rainbows
No barriers closed no reasons withstand
The midnight moon shades blue embraced one shadow two become one dream
A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and Anne-Lise Andresen
Carlo Santana's Black Magic Woman,
in the 60's and 70's gave magic to his
band..
Drugs were part of this movement it's
fair to say. Getting high for many,
while listening to their music, was the
common way
Peace signs, beads, bell bottoms,
psychedelic shirts, desert boots, and
long hair and marijuana, is what was
in style. Looking back and being part
of that history lifestyle, makes me smile.
Peace protesters against the draft,
and Vietnam war. Jimi Hendrix, Peter,
Paul and Mary, The Beatles, Bob Dillon
The Beach Boys,Led Zepplin, Rolling
Stones,Elvis,Simon and Garfunkel,
Crosby, Stills, Nash and Neil Young,
Leonard Skynyrd, Eric Clapton, Carly
Simon is all we heard.
They kept our soldiers in Viet Nam
mentally occupied. It helped them
overcome their stress, and brought
some pleasure to their lives.
Rock N Roll Music had an impact
everywhere.The melodies and lyrics
represented a culture reflecting people,
who really cared.
Neil Young, Eric Clapton, Aerosmith,
Neil Diamond, Barbara Striesand,
Jim Croce made the scene. Years later
Disco and the Bee Gee's came dancing
in.
Disco died, it didn't last long, during
this time Rock N Roll kept rolling on.
Rush, The Eagles, The Police, Peter
Frampton, Boston, Reo Speedwagon,
Blue OysterCult, Fleetwood Mac, Bob
Seger, Steve Miller band, we listened
to. I can't forget Journey, Bruce
Springsteen, Foreigner or the Who.
Bon Jovi, Creed, Madonna, Red Chili
Peppers, Van Halen, Black Eye Peas,
Were hot then. Rock N Roll songs, will
keep on playing, and be appreciated
over and over again.
Time reflects the Lyrics in the songs,
of the good times and the wrongs.
Woodstock brought them all together,
a lasting bond to last forever.. .
Homeward Bound Simon and Garfunkel
was the favorite song with the soldiers. Also
John mentioned The Lion SleepsTonight by
the Tokens. Robert Lindley also mentioned
their groups that were left out. Please read his
comments below. I also thank Robert for his
valued input.
I just want to add that the 60's and
70's were my personal favorite years.
I say this because people really cared
about the war and each other. They
were right...
Michael Tor 10/16/2015 Nayda Ivette Negron. Contest: Favorite Music Type
Was it, Trieste?
An odd place half dour Russian and half lively Italian
I sat in café drinking beer and waiting for a tall American woman
she smoked cigarettes, which back then was a novelty
for a lady to smoke outdoors.
I had never met her but was sure she was a spy.
I was told she was at the railway station when I got there
the train had gone, but there was a picture of a lady smoking
A cigarette called “Monte Carlo”.
Walking around I saw a small lady carrying a heavy suitcase
I offered to help her thinking she lived nearby.
We walked and walked the road was muddy and the bloody luggage
heavy, we walked out of town Trieste was behind us when the little lady
stopped outside a house said she lived there and invited me in.
By now I was sweaty, tired and fed up, said no thank you and walked
back to Trieste. Later someone said she was a famous actress like I should care
The suitcase was so ing heavy, and perhaps she was a spy.
Back in Trieste, I sat drinking beer when a prostitute came and sat down
she was telling hilarious jokes about the men she had met in her life it
was funny but not flattering for the men.
We had something to eat and switched from beer to wine when a man
came and talked to her and she had to leave for business.
She asked me to wait for her which I didn´t do the thought of her
having had sex disturbed my sensibility, I drank the rest of the wine
and found my way back to the hotel
The lady doesn't dance anymore
I met a woman at an AA meeting, She had, when in the depth of her addiction, to money, slept with men, in one gather Since she came from the upper scale of our society they were not common laborers.
By chance (or not) she met a man who loved her despite her past and they had two lovely children
Lately, she felt she had to tell her husband of her sorry past, to free her soul of the guilty secrets.
I suspected her needs were, but a dream of the old days, Monte Carlo and fancy cigarettes
I told her, since she asked me, that she was chasing
a fantasy that was not real even when she lived it.
I'm no longer a member of AA, not since the guilt-ridden middle class took over, and it was a status point to admit a booze problem.
I met the lady again 15 years later, she is a respected lady who works for the betterment of trees on the avenue
She was glad to see me, but I could read in her sad eyes
what she she wanted to be, was a rip-roaring tart living it up in a nightclub
When sultry ripples take a hold
Replacing naive dreams
And fantasy becomes so bold
Seductive in its schemes
It moves into her mundane life
And tempts her with such skill
That she would follow anywhere
Against her weakened will
On soaring moonbeams she does fly
She mingles with the stars
And cushioned clouds become her bed
Seduction holds no bars
Loved and wooed by many
She wows the globe’s elite
Life is just a game for her
A playground at her feet
Sips champagne under starry skies
She dines with kings in Greece
Moves like Bardot in Monte Carlo
Goes au naturale` in Nice
But true love does elude her
Wrong choices to defeat
Gambles sometimes take a turn
Taste bitter from the sweet
Evening shadows enter
Before darkness takes its toll
And Paradise was just a lie
When naïve dreams did fall
Celebration of death
Peter Gargano and his
son Peter memories
meeting at the clock
restaurant fort myers
right before traumatic
brain injury blessings
many laughs prayers
are with the family
reminders from license
plates RFP RIP it’s really
helpful getting terrorists
threats on license plates
especially when I have
to get 12 nerve blocks
injections in my head today
actually every 25 days
traumatic headaches
severe pain and suffering
memory care centers
after surviving hurricanes
I’m reminded of hurricane
Charlie grateful an yet
traumatic events Peter
remembering Peter Gargano
the the trauma it’s almost
like he’s still with us like I
didn’t witness his dead body
leaving this world or all thee
other wise guys hitmen
The Don of Don Boss of Bosses
all dead controlling terrorist
threats on license plates
I’m reminded of mob boss Frankie
boy cali being gunned down holding
his license plate organized crime
terrorising me for wearing
wires pregnant buying
weapons and drugs from junk
sick officers being a rat exposing
mafia hitmen no I’m no
Sammy the Bull or John Gotti jr
big Paul bambino who suffered
a rash from his Mexican maid
Christmas time before being gunned
down without ointment of course
not Carlo Gambino nor Domenico Cefalu
no just a mom a grandma the fbi
just warned me my ex husband
set fires with gargano killing 9
people before I knew a car bomb
ignited my skull Peter stood over
my blood soaked body to go
over investments insurance
monies my memory of my
wearing wires pregnant for the
fbi saved my life today is a
gargano kind of day happy
heavenly birthday Peter Pete
and Peters Just in case I’m
brutally murdered by this ongoing
hit on my life because I refuse to
allow the mafia extort my American
Poetry brings me to tears today fondly
remember me writing American poetry
From Italy’s Punta Carena Lighthouse painted pompeian red,
we watch the sun sink into The Tyrrhenian Sea with some dread.
A magnificent beast, stone steps carved from lava taken from Mt. Vesuvius,
the feeling she gives this visitor is astro-new-vious.
An implied reverence, an unknown feeling, leaves me bit shaken.
Every day, eighty-eight lighthouse keepers on these steps has taken,
a walk to the top, to give the sea a good luck, to save lives, a life that is hard.
To watch bottle nose dolphins and sperm whales, and alert the coast guard
The azure sky smiles at Punta Carena, loving the knowledge their friend Carlo is there.
He has mastered the lighthouse keeper’s job, and swings the beacons without a care.
He has faithfully walked these steps, every day, even after knee replacement surgery.
In his spare time he uses water colours to paint the beautiful seascapes, and writes poetry.
I believe earthquakes are hitting during our visit, but he smiles at my unfounded fears.
Just tremors he tells me, can you smell the sea? And I can; I can feel it's soul, over the years.
Carol D’Oriono, whose home has been this lighthouse for thirteen years will be gone in three weeks.
Replaced by an electronic board, which will not know how to look for what a human seeks.
As I took in this gorgeous view, unique in every single way, words flooded my soul, don't you know?
I really wanted to beg the Italian's last lighthouse keeper to not leave this place, to never ever go.
Written: 12-16-2018
Contest: Lighthouse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
In upstate N.Y., off lake Ontario.
Haunting my dreams, this memory.
Here's the scenario
A cold mild breeze blows
on this Saturday in mid October.
Nine friends decide on the town carnival
Drunk, high, far from sober.
Every town had a carnival
in the October month.
We'd try for every one of them,
young men out on the hunt.
Moderate sized carnivals
containing the different towns,
all types of people came.
You had your jocks, thugs, and me..
The class clown...
All nine friends stylishly dressed
for the upcoming fun.
We pile into a Monte' Carlo,
passing the bottle of Bacardi rum.
We drive down Cetenary road
on the southeast side of town.
Our driver gains reckless speeds,
not thinking of our safety.
He comes to a screeching halt
at the intersection of Cetenary and Lake
He seemed to be excited
about the right turn he was about to make
Hard he presses the gas pedal,
the tires begin to spin
The rear starts radically fishtailing
the nightmare now begins.
First storming to the right
a voice screams out
"OH S#%T"
He jerks the wheel, now left.
We're now heading for a ditch.
At that moment all went black,
screams turned into whispers.
When my consciousness regained
what I saw sent spinal shivers.
Broken, blood stained glass,
seven bodies laying limp.
Skull fragments on the steering wheel,
I couldn't come to grip.
Nine friends set out intoxicated
This late October day
Taken by ambulance for treatment
And an overnight, extended stay
Jared Pickett........:JP]