Long Carlos Poems
Long Carlos Poems. Below are the most popular long Carlos by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Carlos poems by poem length and keyword.
Bill Dyer
Here lies the crisp remains of Chef Bill Dyer
Tumbled head first into a deep fat fryer.
Carlos De Rava
The statue on this grave is of Carlos De Rava
Fell in taking pictures of fast flowing lava.
Alfred. J. Clark
Buried in this grave is the left foot of Alfred. J. Clark
It was all they could find when they cut open a shark.
Joe
In this grave lies poor Joe who was very short sighted
Stick of dynamite instead of a cigar was what he ignited.
David. T. Murrey
In this crypt is just the head of David. T. Murrey
No one attended his funeral because he had no-body.
Jonathan Cass
The mirth you can hear in this grave is of Jonathan Cass
Was smoking a cigarette whilst making laughing gas.
Written on 20th November 2022
jago christos uma rose
ethan cuevas corone
kelly elizabeth christos
alexia daniel wade jonathan james
emily-rose pau and willow too
we didn't start the family
it was always growing
since the world's been turning
we didn't start the family
no we didn't fight it
but we did light it
juan estanislao alicia
george atha jennifer ann
diego agustin angel carlos
maria del transito cuevas gallego
eve corone bosch jim louis nick christos
lynette shirley helen lorraine
smither tracey linda middleton
marisa jane owen wastle haylock
we didn't start the family
it was always growing
since the world's been turning
we didn't start the family
no we didn't fight it
but we did light it
francisca bosch ferrer
josep corone company
maria del transito gallego llorente
vicente cuevas garcia
kalopa christou stefandis
triain szosza todol christou
shirley rose brian fredrick haylock
vanne lena milanko etcetera
we didn't start the family
it was always growing
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the family
No we didn't fight it
But we did light it
[to be read like billy joel's "we didn't start the fire"]
TIME RUNNING OUT
A mask a scarf
it's the light of the sun,
it's the glitter of the dew
it's a life begun
it's a blade of grass,
it is white, it's the dark,
it is black ,it is light,
it's a glow, it's a spark.
the clutter of life,
a word in the ear,
the noise in the night,
the point of the spear.
the centre of the world,
a walk in the park,
the look in the eye,
the song of the lark
it's the colour of the moon
it's the sound of your voice.
it's a chair, it's a stair,
it's a promise, it's a choice.
and the seconds tick by
of the time running out
it's the ifs and buts,
it's the uncertainty.
the arch, the shade,
the sheet, the bed,
the rhythm of the tide,
a garden shed.
a branch, a twig,
a hearty cheer,
a lock, a key,
the start of the year.
the star of the east,
the middle of the day,
the breeze in the trees,
it's a trap, it's a stray.
a hole, a ring,
a laugh, a scream,
a shout, a song,
the end of the dream.
and the seconds tick by
of the time running out
it's the ifs and buts,
it's the uncertainty.
inspired by the style of the lyrics of Antonio Carlos Jobim's English lyrics to 'The Waters of March
Word Lyric #9 for Music
“Testimonies of Old Hippies”
We are still traveling by the speed of mind,
We’re the old freaks, and survivors of the great Be In,
Winsome hippie girls, now old and still kind,
Play pan flutes with feathers glued to their skin.
We were there when Joe and Jimi stole the big show,
With their mythic renderings cast in vinyl stone,
What was it? Where are we? We did not exactly know,
Janis and Pete and Alvin Lee lacerated the night alone.
And we heard The Bear boogie on down the wooded road.
Some of us saw magic mushrooms smiling on a giant toad.
Richie Havens and Carlos Santana let it all fly as we sat there,
Far away into mind space, their epic explosions resounded,
Electric guitar hysterics with screaming rants compounded,
We were all laid to waste there, in the rock n’ roll blare.
We old freaks still travel by the speed of mind,
Old dudes, and hippie girls hang around and are still kind,
We still secretly toke at midnight, all of us with the ghosts,
Of Joe and Jimi, when they sliced the sky, before that vast host.
Women in lovely clothes.
Crystal sea-breeze blowing.
Candle-lit tables,outdoors.
Kaleidoscope-colored, lit dance floor.
Awesome men, raring to go.
Let the Bossa Nova music begin!
The sparking Rio night sky.
The mixed scents of parfums.
The illuminated faces when a cigarette is lit, so artistic.
A divine night, melodically so inspiring.
Grace, music rhythms.
The song, "Mojava" begins.
Ah, thank you!
Antonio Carlos Jobim!
5/8/2021
~2~
A SUDDEN WARM BREEZE ENTERS THE MID WEST IT'S NOT TROPICAL IT'S AS IF DALLAS TEXAS WAS PICKED UP AND LANDED IN THE MIDWEST IN THE FALL WHERE IT SHOULD BE COOL CRISP A FAMILIAR FEELING IT FEELS LIKE BOONEY IT COULD BE MOTO COULD IT BE MEECHIE BUT NO WHY IT'S NOT EVEN JEEPERS IT'S BOONEY IN THE FORM OF ANOTHER YOUTH HIS EYES SEARCHING FOR OTHER YOUTHS THE FEELING OF A PLAY GROUND THAT TIME OF YEAR WHERE POOR UNDESIRABLE KIDS GET TO BEG FOR CANDY INSTEAD OF ROBBING THE CORNERSTORES PLAYING DRESSED AS BOONEY BLACK FOR HALLOWEEN PLAYING COWBOYS AND INDIANS BD FOUND PREY WORKING FOR CORRUPTION SELLING DRUGS FOR CORRUPTION AGAIN THERE ARE TIMES GANGS TAKE ORDER DIRECTLY FROM CORRUPTION AND THERE ARE TIMES CORRUPTION TAKE ORDERS FROM GANGS WHEN THIS OCCURS THE BRAND BLEEDS THROUGH THE SKIN RIGHT THROUGH THE SKIN BD HOLD HIS HEAD BACK TILTED TO THE SIDE HIS EYELASHES FALL HIS PREY IS UNLEASHED ON THE STREETS SERIOUS HIT ON ALL PREY WITH THE NAME ZACK AND CARLOS CODE WORD FOR TAKING ORDERS FROM CORRUPTION SLANDER FALSE FLAGGING BOONEY NATION IN A FLASH BD SPOTS THE PREY FIRST ZACK AND CARLOS CATOW CATOW CATOW CATOW ECHOS BOTH FALL TO THE GROUND THE SMELL OF BOONEY BLOWS AWAY IN THE WARM BREEZE BD NODDS HIS HEAD IT'S DONE IT'S FINISH CORRUPTION LOST ANOTHER FALSE FLAGLER TOTALLY UNAFRAID OF LIFE IN PRISON WHY WHAT WHO WHY NOT COMMUNITY CONTROL WHO ELSE WILL CONTROL A BROKEN SYSTEMS SENDING TROUBLED YOUTHS TO THEIR DEATH BECAUSE THEIR MOTHER IS ON DRUGS CRIPPLED BATTERED YOUTHS ARE RECRUITED BY GANGS AND MANY ARE RECRUITED BY CROOKED DIRTY COPS RUNNING DOPE HOUSES SELLING DRUGS OUT OF THEIR MOMS SECTION 8 APARTMENTS COACHES BUYING URINE FROM TROUBLED YOUTHS TO PASS DRUG TEST UNTIL THAT BOONEY BLACK WARM BREEZE SETTLES IN YOUR CORRUPT TOWN AGAIN WE REMEMBER BD WE ALSO REMEMBER ZACK AND CARLOS AND ALL THE ZACK AND CARLOS THAT MAY FOLLOW THE CREED DON'T EVER THREATEN MY LIFE AGAIN WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM JUNK SICK OFFICERS WORKING SECURITY FOR GANGLEADERS THE SHEER TERROR OF BEING INTIMIDATED BY CORRUPTION WORKING FOR AN ARSON MURDERER OF 9 USING MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND TO INTIMIDATE ME FOR BEING A DOMESTIC VIOLENCE SURVIVOR GOD BLESS THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION AND GOD BLESS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
DRUMMOND
Oh Drummond,
how were you so straight
being so gauche...
FERNANDO
Oh Fernando,
you were so many people
in one poet!
GABRIELA FLOR DE VIENTO
Oh Gabriela,
I always knew
Mistral was your wind...
FLORBELA FLOWER
O My Lazio flower
you beat sadness
sprouting exquisite poetry!
VINICIUS
Oh singing poet
You were from a tender little poet
a great poet...
PS tribute to Carlos Drumond - Brazil
Fernando Pessoa - Portugal
Gabriela Mistral - Chile
florbela Espanca- Portugal
Vinícius De Moraes - Brazil
The big turtle of Galapagos.
Turtles, in general, are not good at communicating
with anyone, at least those odd figures who talk
a lot and sometimes sing
The big turtle of the Galapagos does remember
when a big storm had blown over the world and
many ships had run ashore on the island
She had been ashore laying egg in a hollow and
when she emerged, her way to the ocean was blocked
by broken ships, big chests sailors used to carry
around since they had no shells
He appeared in front of her, a man in linen trousers
said he would help her and began clearing the beach, talking at the same time as humans tend to do
His name was Carlos Hamsun, and he wore linen
trousers and matching shirt, since he was alone and
had no servant, his trousers were rather dirty
Nothing much happens in a turtle's life, but when
something happens, it remembers like having a picture taken, a photo that never fades
Since she had spent years when not laying
eggs, there was not much to tell, that is why
she remembered
Carlos Hamsun, humans have bad memories and needs
individual name, especially now with so many
tourist hogging the beach, making it difficult find
a suitable hollow to lay eggs.
Not that she lays eggs anymore, but she likes to go ashore
dig a hole and rest a bit, which is not easy now that
a bloody zoologist has made her famous
PETER GARGANO AND MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND **** OPERATION THE WATCHERS CAMERAS WATCHIBG TOTS FROM THREE TI 10 AFTER THAT THE OPERATION EMERGED MANY MISSING KIDS ALL IVER THE WORLD BECAUSE THE CHILD **** WAS HIDDEN UNDER THE KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS TREADURY OF SAN CARLOS BEACH HE ALSO RAN YHE STRIP CLUB IN TAMPA HOUSING ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT JAMAICAN TALIBAN STRIPPERS IDENTITY THIEVES I REPORTED THIS TO THE FBI 2003 PETER GARGANO AND MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND BEGAN THREATENING MY LIFE TORTURE BLOWING MY BRAINS OUT LITERALLY THESE ELITE CHILD KILLERS DISPOSE OF THE VUCTIMS FRAMING THE PARENTS THERE ARE A FEW THAT PERER GARGANO PAID WITH LIQUIR LICENSES OF SCHOLASHIPS FOR THIS PREY UNDER THE FLORIDA LOTTERY I EXPOSED PETERS OPERATION AFTER FINDIND OUT MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND WAS APART OF THE **** MANY MANY KIDS MISSING I AM SO BLESSED MY DAUGHTER WAS RETURNED HOME MY LIFE WAS THREATENED SADLY THE TREASURE OF KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS PETER GARGANO HIS LONG LIST OF STRIPPERS JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY ALICIA HILTON TALISA SHAW KIWANI BUGS DANITA DELMONT THE MANY MISSING KIDS OUT THERE BECAUSE THIS POWERFUL ORGANIZED HORROR FUNDS THE ABUDUCTIONS MY PRAYERS ARE WITH THESE VICTIMS PETER BLEW UP MY SKULL EMBEZZLED THE TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY FAKED HIS DEATH WITH T KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS IN ORDER TO KILL ME AND IMPERSONATE MY IDENTITY WITH HIS JAMAICAN ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT TALIBAN IDENTITY THIEVES ATTEMPTING TO IMPERSONATE MY WOUNDED WAR HERO HIDING UNDER VETERANS IDENTITIES GOD BLESS AMERICA GOD BLESS JOHN WALSH FOR ALL HE DO TO BRING MISSING KIDS BACK HOME SEARCHING ENDLESSLY NEVER KNOWING PERSONS OF POWER ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR COVERING ABUSED KIDS TOSSED LIKE TRASH PETER PRAYS ON KIDS ALREADY BEING ABUSED THEY BECOME WORTHLESS PREY HE THEN SEND OUT HIS HIRED HANDS TO DIG THE HOLES FROM FLORIDA TO MINNESOTA MAINE GOD ONLY KNOWS I WILL NEVER EVER FEAR THIS TWISTED HORROR
GOD BLESS AMERICA
I am entertaining
and unnecessary,
but I enjoy
both of those
under-defining
adjectives.
My mistakes
I cover up,
in the wrong colors
of acrylic.
They still show through
when they dry.
Thank God.
The chin isn’t right
on my self-portrait.
It mocks me
with uncertainty.
I never did fit into
the proportions
of myself.
My paintings
are more puzzling
than the abstract version
of an abstract.
I wasn't classically trained.
Especially the desperate,
stretching trees
I tried to paint
behind me.
They look like skinny soldiers
bowed down by true intentions
and heavy snow.
Standing between me
and the vertical
attempts at Aspens,
is a red wheelbarrow
and chickens.
I hate those chickens.
They even squawk
on canvas.
Thank you,
William Carlos Williams.
When will the raindrops dry?