Long Charlie Poems
Long Charlie Poems. Below are the most popular long Charlie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Charlie poems by poem length and keyword.
Charlie was dead
Charlie was dead: to begin with,
There is no doubt whatever about that.
I leave my residue to Carol for Christmas
and Little Dorrit his faithful Tom Cat.
There’s been hard times here in Bleak House,
Villainy and miserly crime capers,
I spent my fortune in shops of curiosity,
Pickwick wrote of it, in his gossip papers.
You gather here with great expectations,
Of bequeaths, chattels and yield.
But listen well to my loyal Trustees,
Messrs Chuzzlewit and Copperfield.
To that twister and Street Urchin Oliver,
and to show I bear him no grudge,
I do leave a Crown and one Farthing,
and a sixpence to Barnaby Rudge.
To our mutual friends Dombey and Son,
Please accept my cane and fine silk scarf.
May you prosper all the year round,
As comfortable as a Cricket on a hearth.
So, here is my last Will and Testament,
Yes, I’m worthless, so whimper and brood.
Where did it all go, there is no mystery,
Lost at Cards to Nickleby and Drood.
KS 6/11/2017
I was about nine when I got Rusty, a brown and white bundle with a black saddle; a beagle with a happy-go-lucky spirit and a soul of pure gold. He wasn’t quite like old Snoopy, Charlie Brown’s beagle though he did have a lot of bird friends. Through summer days, we wrestled and played, I’d toss a stick and he’d bring it my way; he didn’t quite get it that he had to let go, so I could throw it again. I’ve had so many pets since Rusty’s passing; all of them special in their own way; I have been blessed.
dog
is God spelled backwards –
love
Rusty was pure love in a bundle of fur; the best friend I had in those days as, my human best friend had moved away; I could always rely on Rusty to take up the slack.
animals are
emotional life support –
analysts
THE PATHETIC AND DEMONIC
BEHAVIOR OF THOSE WHO AGREE
AND BELIEVE IN HATRED ,
ANAMOSITY AND VIOLENCE AGAINST
THOSE WHO DISAGREE WITH THEIR
PSYCHOTIC IDEOLOGIES THAT ARE
DESTROYING THE COUNTRY AND
THE WORLD WILL ULTIMATELY HAVE
TO FACE THEIR CREATOR AND STAND
TRIAL FOR THEIR BEHAVIOR AND CRIMES.
THEIR PUNISHMENT WILL EXCEED
THEIR EXPECTATIONS AND
IMAGINATION . THEIR EXPULSION
FROM THIS WORLD WILL GO BEYOND
THE LIMITS AND BARRIERS OF TIME
IT'S SELF AND THE UNIVERSE OF
CELESTIAL BEING AND THE UNIVERSE
IN WICH WE RESIDE.
ALL THAT WILL REMAIN FOR THOSE
WHO WORSHIP HATRED IS THEIR
OWN HATRED TOWARDS HATRED.
CHARLIE KIRK , MAY THE LORD
ALWAYS BE BY YOUR SIDE.
Michael E Harris
09102025
Thinkin' in Jazz
In the smoky air of a dim-lit bar, where the jazz notes are free to be/
I’m hittin’ the keys black-and-white, they dance under my fingers/
learning the language of the night, the pentatonic scale, my silent partner, whispering secrets through brass and wood, understood?
Musician to musician, we gather round, swapping stories like currency, what we did, what we missed, a note here, a pause there, the bandstand our confessional, step by step, we’re reaching, stretching toward the horizon of sound, to be the best, to be more than echoes/
But tell me, brother, sister, what’s your pulse beneath the rhythm? What’s your political stance, your economic battle, when the music swells and sways/
does it blow through your horn, or does it just linger on the edges? Man, are you for real? Chet Baker, Lee Konitz, Paul Motian, Charlie Haden, their spirits weave through your melodies, a fusion of giants/
reminding you, that you are in good company, finding the art in your horn/
finding yourself, the horn as a vessel, a portal to transcending into the musical universe/ It is said the echoes of the great horn players, live in every musician's jazz head/ like stars in a midnight sky, waiting to be discovered on the road of jazz/ a worthy journey/
between sets, I’m composing, a song in my mind, in the back alley of my jazz gig/
where dreams collide with reality, and every note is not about playin’ on a stage/
every jazz blow, a breath, and at this moment, I’m alive, thinkin’ in jazz.
A year it's been, a year and more...
not that anyone else is keeping score.
My poems have never slept for so long,
but life has also never felt more wrong.
'Defiance' is my utmost, my favorite word...
the closest to "me" that I have ever heard.
But necessity has stolen its triumph and pride,
survival having become my only guide.
Grief has forced upon me six rounds...
loaded the revolver by filling the mounds.
The muzzle presses into my temple every day,
and only mulishness holds it at bay.
Instead of defying assholes, malice, hate, greed...
my will is entirely bent towards this need.
I cannot write otherwise, cannot force the muse,
while I'm simply looping, "I refuse, I refuse, I REFUSE".
"Undefeated", my favorite songs belt out...
I wish I could claim it truly, could similarly shout.
But the truth is that I have been shattered,
soundly beaten, smashed, stained, battered.
But strength lies not in never taking the heat...
only in getting back to your goddamned feet.
And if there's two things I unquestionably know,
it's heat - and telling the world " no".
Charlie briefly belonged to a group that would say...
"the only easy day was yesterday".
I say, the only easy day was...
when?
Choo choo trains are so much fun
As they puff along the tracks
Full of happy clickety clack sounds
With a little caboose on the back
Chugging along up and down hills
Singing some happy wee ditty
His name is Choo Choo Charlie
Bringing country folks to the city
They're always in a big hurry
These folks from the busy town
Poppa needs to earn some money
To pay for Momma's new gown
In the land of big tall buildings
There's not a happy face
Seems like everyone's in a hurry
As if they're running a race
Charlie patiently waits until five
To return them to their homes
Can't wait to get them back on board
Away from the glass and chrome
It's strictly business all day long
There's not much laughter allowed
Till Charlie meets 'em at five o'clock
Once more they're a happy crowd
Why does it have to be this way
Choo Choo Charlie wants to know
Never mind, he's heading home
Happy passengers all in tow!
Charlie the chimp lay in the grass and felt a bit displeased
while the rest of his group screeched and climbed and played,
swinging about and chasing one another in the trees
sniffing the bottoms of the friends they'd made.
But Charlie, being brighter. made an outcast of himself
sadly he had done this by his own choice,
his friends who'd had enough, had now all left him on the shelf,
and all this because of his different voice.
He'd made a big mistake when visitors each day all came,
of learning all the things families said,
and now instead of him just screaming out 'Ah! Ah! Ah!Ah!,
and 'Ooh! Ooh!' he'd say 'good morning' instead.
By the end of summer season his human vocabulary
was heading for at least three thousand words,
sat every night alone atop his favourite Baobab tree.
these phrases practised where nobody heard.
The wind was gusting really strong on one particular night
and into his enclosure something blew,
turned out to be the main pages of the Washington Post
and also inside it, the showbiz review.
His reading skills he'd absorbed were now getting pretty good,
he'd read all of the stuff he thought worth knowing,
The Senate said Obamacare's not working like it should,
and the Amazon rainforest's slowly going.
In a photo of a Primate called Bieber he wondered why
his top half oddly has no body hair,
but maybe that explains why there's no females standing by
to pick off any fleas they might find there.
Alpha male tore Charlie's paper, coz he wouldn't give a hug
and so Charlie went and told him to 'get bent',
then he sat up in the treetops with a grin and feeling smug,
since he knew none of them knew just what that meant.
6th September 2016,
for contest 'Animal antics', sponsor Shadow Hamilton
I Lullaby at Dusk
(for Father Johnnie E. Ross)
While today I missed the dawn,
I refuse to let the dusk pass, too, being
The chance to see time flow
More than the only guessing feel of its pace...
With seeds thrown out for the cardinals’ dinner,
I will dine on the fading silhouettes
Of the garden’s young pines and oaks near-
Ready to sleep as the sky thickens gray
Behind them to the east, so they are the last
To see the indigo stretching of night.
As I lie here, the soul
To care a gaze upon their drowsing.
Simple grove, how can they know I worry
If this cold descending on
This nearly Christmas night
Might cause them a shivering hour or two?
Pulling tighter their bark all about,
They appear to dream higher, almost
Standing in a present lullaby to one another,
As they shelter the cardinals in the forks
Of their branching deliverance and rest
From passing days, and weather and predators.
I watch...I watch as the star-show starts
Beyond the thick night’s descending veil.
We will go on unseen to one another in sleep,
The trees, the birds, and I, into
Darkest night, a going way forth to light.
********. ********. *********. *******
(c) sally Young eslinger 12;29/20
Oh all thanks be to God...and Charlie, too
Beautiful day
Ocean
Blue sky
A little piece of paradise
Beckoned by the waves
Come out and play
Frolic
Be a child again
Crash through my waves
Feel my strength
A perfect day
You feel in control
Your body so strong
As you ride along
Upon her waves
Exhilarated
Feeling free
Unaware of destiny
In a moment
A life can change
Sushine turns to rain
You don't feel anything
Not even pain
The ocean displays her darker side
Takes you on a different ride
You come crashing down
As her waves pound
Pushed in circles
Like a rag doll
We feel mighty before we fall
Soft waves become a wall
In a moment
From the corner of your eye
You see Jesus's face
As your heart keeps pace
Will he rescue you
You say a prayer
So glad he is there
All others unaware
Holding your breath
Unable to move
It's time to let go
What will happen you don't know
Yet you are not afraid
The lights go out
As you're tossed about
Jesus takes you in his arms
Rests you on the shore
Not in danger any more
The ocean lets out her roar
She is denied your soul
It's not added to her collection
You're under Gods protection
When you open your eyes
You are paralyzed
But still alive
Thankful
You can breath
See
Pray
Talk
You're placed in angels hands
A new adventure begins
Like a child again
Starting from the beginning
Not in control
On a journey to be whole
Learning to walk
Regaining what was lost
Willing to pay the cost
Working through the pain
Seeing the sunshine not the rain
You will be strong once again
You are in our Savior's hands
My friend Charlie went on a holiday to Hawaii with his girlfriend and on the second
day while body surfing he was taken by a wave and crashed on the bottom he had no
feeling below his neck and could not move any part of his body. Out of the corner of
his eye he saw Jesus as he was being tossed about. He could no longer hold his breath
and blanked out. Before he knew it he was waking on the beach and people were
coming to help him. Miraculously after a day feeling and movement started returning
to him. He is on the road of recovery and is now walking and moving about. He is
truly a walking miracle.
Chasing my thirst into the
desert at night,
Otis Redding was right….
“You don’t miss the water till the well runs dry”
And marrying the wrong woman
for the second time,
Smokey Robinson was right….
“You better shop around”
Writing my pen empty with the
same old words,
Cat Stevens was right….
“The first cut truly is the deepest”
And living in Macon because
I thought it was safe,
Charlie Daniels was right….
“The devil did come down to Georgia”
Losing my religion only to
seek God again,
Robert Plant was right….
“You can’t buy a stairway to heaven”
And when I’m alone and desperate and have
nowhere left to turn,
Bob Dylan was the most righteous of all….
“When you ain’t got nothin, you got nothin to lose”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)