Long Club Poems
Long Club Poems. Below are the most popular long Club by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Club poems by poem length and keyword.
It’s coming can’t you feel it
Something, absolutely wrong
They’re preaching greed and hatred
In the lyrics to their song
The precipice we’re perched upon
Hums! like a ticking bomb
As they herald their New Order
Their Future Babylon
Iniquity in every song
They share the Devils creed
The Puppets spilling secrets
That their Masters want revealed
Biblical immorality
No longer lies concealed
They sign their souls to Satan
Playing out the cards He’s dealed
The Forever 27 Club
Laid open to them all
Each soul is worth the same to Him
The writing’s on the wall
Janis Joplin, Morrison
Winehouse and Cobain
Jimi Hendrix, Robert Johnson
Made a Faustian exchange
The Beatles, Sergeant Peppers
David Bowies ‘Quicksand’
The Great Beast, loyally lauded
Crowley’s led them by the hand
They herald each new master
They applaud the righteous wrong
The Crossroads call at Midnight
Gathering soldiers in their song
Bianca, Cookie, Shady
Sasha Fierce and Luke the Drifter
An exponential family
Ri Ri, Lola, Twisted Sister
As Above, then so Below
Both egos need their names
There’s no-one who they seem, it seems
Duality’s the Game
The Boss don’t like these dizzy heights
Come shake hands with the Devil
The Devil’s in the detail
Hell and Heaven, on one level
Cos Lucifer, He ain’t greedy
Though He likes to thwart Gods plans
Shylock seeks his pound of flesh
Satan, only 21 grams
The sacrificial lambs line up
Like Isaacs only child
A soulless congregation
Cos there’s No Church in the Wild
It’s coming can’t you feel it
Something, absolutely wrong
They’re preaching greed and hatred
In the lyrics to their song
The precipice we’re perched upon
Hums! like a ticking bomb
As they herald their New Order
Their Future Babylon
Love and friendship here on the Soup
The most awesome feeling ever
To talk with people all over the world
To me it's a miracle to savour
Poets are dreamers a well known fact
Imagining a world at peace
The first time in history to ever occur
We could dine together in feast
To live together, all nations united
No longer divided by borders
Speaking only of love and friendship
Enraptured in a new world order
When I finally pass on I've one request
Be reincarnated, with a grin
Come back as a popular night club singer
Or a doggie like Rin Tin Tin
I try my hardest to be serious... really I do!
self proclaimed er calculating polymath
no win tent to kindle,
or spark hay8 full ire rate wrath
juiced whiling away
the early evening hour hath
horror hived this february
twenty second, nah scared to take a bath.
The Process (is a Process All Its Own)
eye up ply applies
to brain storming with zest to whit
barn storming across das plains of google
to pitchfork embers tuff flickr tinder lee
with smart poetic dip pose zit
tool loom hen ate interior darkness
where lurks the monstrous akin to Perdido
otherwise known as perdition,
especially Native American
linkedin as The Buffalo Hunter
pseudonym adopted by Ballard and Sandrine,
The Green Woman, whose Side predicted to win
Pork Pie Hat predicated on FengShui yang and yin
force fields property aligned creates A Special Place
predominantly filled with A Dark Matter
only known (bee you wick), i.e.,The Skylark
and of course Poe's Children, totaling 5 Stories
helpful to down with a chaser
viz - The Little Blue Book Of Rose Stories
Ideally red (red) in The Night Room,
where an unsuspected parvenu
absconded with Lost Boy, Lost Girl
housing Magic Terror, but interestingly
one must ask - Isn't It Romantic?
Via the perspective Looking Back
feigning to be combination of Mr. X, and/or
and Mrs. God innocent looking people
yet, the progenitors of The Hellfire Club
burnt offerings indistinguishable from Blue Rose
fragrance or melancholy Ghosts
resembling trumpeting Floating Dragon
invoking grabbing by The Throat sensation
Where spirits flit to and fro
throughout neighborhood Houses Without Doors
and games without frontiers
this...a millennial Mystery
unlike the generic Ghost Story,
the main anti protagonist and/or
pro antagonist, nonetheless named Koko
who calls The Juniper Tree home
especially eerie Under Venus
provoking Wild Animals
to run berserk at lightspeed
en masse Black Sabbath
bestirs cries and whispers
proto, pseudo psychedelic
quint essence ova thermocouple
holo graphic images hypnotizing vista as Shadowland
explicit formula generating happy interacial Marriages
nah...ha - ah, the joe cuz on ewe
especially, If You Could See Me Now!
AT THE DUNG DINERS’ CLUB-
Dung beetles them there beetles ;
That feed on feces;
Some species of dung beetles;
Ooh! Yum just love that feces from all the species;
Can bury dung 250 times their own mass;
In one night those dungs love to not pass;
Also known as rollers, roll dung into round balls,
Which are used as a food source please pass the more;
Or breeding chambers;
Animal dung used for fertilizing lands and lawns so bitter;
Dung muck droppings, ordure guano;
Cowpats, cow chips, horse apples;
Compost, excrement, mulch maul
Buffalo chips, cow chips, Heee haw!
Cow plop's, meadow muffins, BM, Oh? crap;
Defecation, discharge;
Excrement, fecal matter, waste;
Feces feculence flux
Go to the bathroom, stool, number two
Poop the night soil
Swwhh,! ooh the airs so fowl
Egesta evacuations body waste
Says them there dung beetles give it a taste
Guess them dung is dung eating ya? Make haste(Oooh yum yah!)
7/19/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
DEADICATED VERSE TO Jan Allison AT THE DUNG DINERS CLUB
I once had that Afro hair you now rock, oh yes i once had it.
Not in the 40s, not in the 50s but in the summer of the dark age. I was a pretty little thing, A fish and oh yes i swimmed all waters.
My blackness got it strength from that Afro hair, not the wigs you rock now that has no shadow under.
My Afro hair.
I rocked it in front of the mirror and it sent messages to the slave masters that i have scribbled their skeletons on my wall.
My Afro hair.
I rocked it in the club and a white brother got the message that liberty needs a glass.
My young Africans.
You rock your Afro hair in front of sloths, drink wild, your winks die and you lie you represent the liberation party.
My young Africans.
In the summer of the dark age i was among the black panthers, we pounced on herods and never wore another skin.
My young Africans.
How do you rock your Afro hair?
What do you make of the coco butter inside your skin?
Oh what an ebony skin you got.
My young Africans.
I'm Sekani
This man loves Newcastle United football club,
And has overcome Graves’ disease thyroidal,
By having an op to remove that deathly snub,
Of his prowess in the swimming pool brutal.
He won a bronze in the 100 metres freestyle,
At the British Swimming Championships 2012,
Then at the UK championships international,
Those for disabled people, he won in the youth.
He also took gold there, in the 50m men’s youth,
In 29.95 secs, and in the men’s open 400 metres,
He won bronze. At the London Paras the truth,
Is he was Britain’s youngest gold medalist, cheers!
He was the North East’s own sports personality,
And won the MBE in 2013. CP is his condition,
And he’s gone from being an S7 by true nobility,
To being a category S8, by his rugged dedication.
around the corner...just!
light brilliant...trees freshly brushed...
a breeze meandering through the grass...
a baby blue sky, an occasional cloud shaped and reshaped,
...a waterfall roars like a lion...its spray soft as a lamb.
around the corner...Just
a lovers breath against my neck...a lover's lies,
an ego lift...a seat on that pedestal men dream of...
a bold kiss...an us in a crowd...a lazy summer day
outdoor chairs...an overhead fan, an open door
around the corner...Just,
rollerblades...a mountain bike, a jaunt in the park,
a movie house...a why not...an invigorate,
a swim in a freezing cold lake...
a restaurant night...an evening walk, a club...
dancing...karaoke...being a little wild...
so many images paint my mind...
bittersweet
...my thoughts march one by one
to want something so bad
to fear it at the same time
Just around the corner
I get back my life,
just...
Around the corner
the loss of a life,
just around the corner...
yes I need to do that now,
yes I can wait longer yet...
responsible for her...
consumes the life I knew
the actors, the stage, the lights, the set, the techs,
a play, my life flow...directing stage.
Just around the corner my life waits for me
impatiently
Just...! Around that same corner, death waits for her
patiently
Be careful what you wish for...
Around the corner...just around the corner
two tears wait for me
one joyous...one mournful
Around the corner I want to be
Around the corner wait for me
not yet, caring for my mother...still she lives,
I can wait,
I can wait...
10~13~2014
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Contest Name: Around the Corner ...
What if He appears
As the trumpet cheers
With a train of angels
When judgment labels;
Will you hear that saintly sound?
What will you be?
Mortal forever, or immortal eternally?
Where will you be?
At the bar, the club
Or in the Church?
What if He appears
The Son of Man
In heavenly adornment
With lightnings and all glory;
Will your life attract that call—
To stir you up unto Himself?
Will you fit to sing in the light's space?
Or are you sure to enter into that palace?
What if He appears
With all power unto Him
That upholds and withholds
The devils' ancestry;
Will you, if being dead, resurrect;
And if being alive, rapture?
Or, I see, you may have fallen short!
What if He appears
In His Royal Majesty
As the scriptures said
Of that certain day
Will He say “depart, I know ye not!”.
Are your ways right?
Will your soul cry or sing for joy?
Where will you stand?
On Hell's soil?
O’ the faithful saints shall stand on Heaven's rock!
She slipped into the single’s club,
where an assortment
of horny guys and lonely hearts had assembled.
Some were there hoping to find that "special" someone
and some had come to chase away the blues,
tinkling ice in cocktail glasses soon to be refilled.
Others, who might be labeled commitment phobic,
had simply come to case the place for an easy lay.
Swinging svelte, mini-skirted hips lasciviously,
she strutted over to the counter
on legs that looked their longest and most shapely
from being hoisted on high red heels.
Every pair of eyes was trained on her.
Some in the club gawked
with eyes that hid beneath mascara-painted lashes, flitting envy.
Others leered with pupils dilating lust
from ogling the two soft protrusions in her tight white turtleneck.
Then with pink champagne in hand,
the goddess turned and surveyed her audience,
most of whom by now had looked away.
One remained, mesmerized, with eyes riveted on her.
He quivered when she caught his gaze
and strolled over to where he sat.
As she approached, he marveled at her face -
the chiseled cheekbones strong and high,
the dark eyes, luminescent and immense,
and curiously, an upturned nose so delicate
it seemed almost too perfect,
like one acquired from a sculptor’s hands.
He gulped when she asked him for a dance,
and as he asked this intriguing lady’s name,
he wondered at the timbre of her voice,
so provocative and low as she tossed dark brown locks
and said seductively,
“My name is Lola. L-O-L-A , Lola.”
Inspired by an old song from the 70's and
used now for Skat's the Premiere Contest number 10 Poetry Contest
I don’t know who I am, but don’t know why you left me so fast
Keep accepting me back, believe me in the past
Woooah
I think we need to slow down
Drinking and thinking I jus wanna know how imma do this on my own
Used to wake up to you now I don’t know where I’m at
I still remember that trip, laughing and smiling with the Nike hat
I know you at the club thinking about me and it’s so sad
But just know I’m sitting in the basement. I’m down bad
Woahhh
Where are you going wearing all that going to a funeral I’m wearing all black
True I’m in the basement thinking about you and all I want is you back
Woah
Say you don’t love me no more. I’m just trying to put on a face.
Accept me back take your time. I know you need space
Woahh