Long Comic book Poems
Long Comic book Poems. Below are the most popular long Comic book by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Comic book poems by poem length and keyword.
Pleasant pondering never be realized,
the pie in the sky for now satisfied.
The biggest slice in need of pursuit,
the cherry on top as attitude.
Succulent projections by layers detailed,
downtown look at the sky retailed.
Others already with their fingers in the pie,
to hurry is the profundity in that limited sky.
Religious or political pies so mighty,
spoons for everybody’s social beauty.
Sunset breaking eggs ascendant warmed firmament,
vanilla, butter perfumed baking’s installment.
Crown of all doughnuts after the release,
muffin tops vice versa to please.
Procrastinations and prophecies,
prediction in scientific strategies.
Every now and then to eat some humble pie,
to still the slice of anger on a hungry day.
The ideal pie a comic book story,
insanity as perfect repository.
Custard on the pie as ultimate joke,
magic laughter from the dispensing yoke.
Creating bigger pies for funding,
easy bargain for expanding landing.
The karmic pie in the face as frailties,
sour tears in lemon meringue deities.
The unified future as a mince pie dream,
slow baking and loss of morality scream.
The shrinking pie and the blame,
con leaders in control of crust and its fame.
On Interstate 5 In A Greyhound Bus
mother pauline boards the big greyhound double decker
her freckled son goes before her wearing a cub scout cap
hurry up she says as they climb the stairs to the upper deck
the bus driver tips his cap and starts the greyhound engine
mother pauline tells the little boy they are going to redding
she gives him a batman comic book and a box of milk duds
nighttime is coming as stout pauline flips on the ceiling lamp
euthanizing elevator music seeps from an overhead speaker
jodi sands sings ‘kiss by kiss’ as the bus driver grips the wheel
the double decker dashes down alameda with taillights on fire
flashing by foggy neon cocktail dives drinking in the darkness
rushing now on life’s dream highway like an insane eel dancing
now rushing at 65 mph they ride on interstate 5’s scarred back
freckled boy tiredly yawns and lies upon the soft lap of pauline
tired mother peers out the window and sees the fast blur of life
she focuses her sight and sees her mountain of love sleeping
an hour of fast driving leads to closed eyes and driveling yawns
old men snore in the back as erect streetlights pass by unseen
mother pauline thinks of husband fred back home being alone
she wonders if fred misses her as much as she now misses him
wonders if he’s snoring in bed right now as loud as the old men
soon she will be in redding to find a house and to scout the town
soon the sun will rise when the yuba street bus depot is reached
freckled boy continues to sleep and dream in pauline’s soft lap
the greyhound speeds up interstate 5 like an insane eel dancing
A cluttered barbershop in my old hometown I fondly call to mind,
Was a gathering place to loaf and socialize, a great place to unwind!
Harry, the barber, kept farmers, the local rabble and boys like me,
Looking right smart, clipping hair and shaving necks for a two-bit fee!
Outside, as raging winter storms amassed piles of drifting snow,
The old pot-bellied stove radiated warmth setting hearts aglow!
The shop rang with debates about politics and the charms of local females.
Hiding behind a comic book I learned some mighty intriguing details!
Harry's shop had just one old wrought-iron footrest barber's chair.
Thereupon hung a strop with which he honed razors with flair.
In a cream-colored cabinet, Harry stored the tools of his trade;
Brushes, straight razors, shaving cups and pungent oils of pomade!
Wall posters depicted sports figures and women scantily clad,
Also, ads for Vitalis, Brylcreem and other concoctions to be had.
In the back was a room where ne'er-do-wells usually hung around,
Enjoying a smoke or playing checkers - fellowship would abound!
Adding to the cozy setting was Harry's inscrutable cat.
No one dared move him from the chair where he always sat!
Harry and his quaint barbershop are now forever gone,
But to the memory of those simpler times I will e'er be drawn!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
(a prose-poem)
He was very young, he knew that he relied on others to think,
live and survive, although survival was an unknown planet in an
as yet, unread comic book.
He spent much of his time in that garden.
There were people who joined him there,
they were the 'wooden' people,
the 'underground' people,
and those who arrived from an unknown planet.
It was there that the underground-people whispered advice
to him to stop talking to the wooden-people.
They (the wooden ones), would not reply to him,
and looked through him as if he were not there.
The snow-people liked to play,
but went away in the middle of a game like puffs of smoke.
He liked some of the people from the unknown planet,
but some were more like wooden people,
and some were like the snow people.
The underground people never showed themselves,
and never went away.
Gradually over the few years that it takes for a child
to become more unaware of impossible things,
he became less conscious of these beings.
On his first date he fell in love with a snow girl,
after that encounter he became himself a wooden person for a while.
Later he would whisper advice to himself as if he were
an underground person.
Many years past: a slow realization dawned upon him,
he now knew that he was one of those people from that
unknown planet,
and that this world was but, an as yet, unread comic book.
You're my superhero and you don't even know why
Its because you're there for every pain hurt and cry
You're there for those who matter excluding yourself
Superheros like you cant be found anywhere else
Who gave you those powers to handle everything
Its obvious there's someone stronger a much higher being
The powers he has given you seem to use them well
Each time you save and rescue you never seem to fail
You're close to others for a moment then disappear from view
You're so busy saving others no one can save you
There isn't too many that you can reveal your identity to
Because they would laugh, misunderstand or start judging you
It must be very hard to survive a heroes life
Not many in the world are willing to do what's right
You can't have down time, a personal life or any friends
The minute you enjoy yourself is the minute that it ends
You must always remain alert to the times that you're needed
If anyone could have a double life its you who really leads it
That's what makes you odd and different from the rest
You're loyal and self sacrificing and you do your best
There is no comic book with a superhero like you
One who puts their life aside just to do what you do.
Signed a contract, the devil is a liar
Just to save a loved one,
Now I'm baptized in fire
Alone i trail blaze the night
Hair of fire,
Skull burning bright
Cruising a few hundred miles per hour,
Mounted on my hell cycle
I am the vengeful rider
Don't you dare look into my eyes!
If you do
I will see through your lies
I hunt down the wicked
Into the dead of night
Armed with a flaming chain,
Do you really want to fight?
I am the HELL biker
Just try and fight the fire
Johnny Blaze is the name
Vengeance unquenchable,
This fire
Forever remains untamed
So don't you dare look into my eyes .....Go ahead, Just try to give me the evil eye, If you dare to DIE!
Comic book characters- poetry contest, sponsor-shadow Hamilton
05-29-2015
I try to see
back before
to who Eddy once was
just barely before when
the bending began
Eddy was after all
a cute child
wide eyed
hugging kissing and kind
Somehow horrible happened
It tricked and trapped his mind
Loud shouting screaming sounds
parents preaching pain
through domestic degradation
careless communication
fraught with frustration
Pass the potatoes please
then spilled milk smacking sensation
belt welts broken eggs no bacon
Get up go clean up
never ever interrupt
battles brief and abrupt
ranting and raving
mom misbehaving
Eddy helpless and in need of saving
experiencing what no child should be braving
Learning man lessons
before he started shaving
He can't depend on dear dad
who pretends perfection
in his ship shape barber shop
where his jolly joking rarely stops
Important friends doctors and cops
humorous happy back slaps
Eddy feels hidden looks and subtle attacks
Shoe shine simple
comic book quick
When the shop closes
Tearful Eddy gets another licking
At two times five even Eddy starts kicking
his hurt turns into fists swinging
runaway day trip escaping
Then away he starts staying
getting into trouble time
not enough praying
rules that need breaking
Who he'll become
there's little mistaking
what he wants he happily starts taking
He can't shake the mistakes
Travels life fast with worn brakes
Tears turn into lakes
He has and has caused
many heart breaks
Sometimes past prisons
Are to hard to escape
I think of my daddy
dear Eddy
and my soul shakes
Sometimes time ticks
Other times it just takes!
Inspired by a comment made by John Hamilton after he read my
poem "between the words of my father".
My Entry for S. Grace's "Mental Illness Contest."
Reading Captain America brings me great joy
He's more than a comic book, not a mere toy
I enjoy his fights for freedom every day
and how he defeats the bad guys in every single way
He dresses up in a costume which seems like a lot of fun
but he only fights with his shield, never with a gun
Going at it for way over eighty years
he's captured our attention and all of our ears
Writing this poem is taking a break from reading another issue
but when I'm back it will be hip-hip-hooray and never any tissues
I'd like to say the joy Captain America brings me is ever so grand
I encourage you to read his comic books too, again and again
Thursday, July 21, 2022
JOY Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Steven Rogers was born in New York in nineteen twenty, a sweet boy.
A comic book artist, born to poor Irish immigrants, their pride and joy.
Wanted to join the military and fight Nazis when he was twenty-one.
He was little, too scrawny, he lacked muscles. “Just hand me a gun!”
Comic book writers Jack Kirby and Joe Simon pondered what to do.
They wanted to make him a superhero, and they worked on it too.
They arranged for Army general Chester Phillips to make his day.
He enlisted Steven in the super soldier project, right away.
As Captain America, Steven would have super human strength too.
Terrific at martial arts and hand to hand combat, a durable guru.
He would have outstanding stamina, durability, intelligence and speed.
Kirby and Simon ran with their idea, creating a fine comic indeed.
Captain America faced enemies in Japan and Nazi Germany.
His sidekick Bucky was as proud of him as he could ever be.
The first Captain America comic came out in March of 1941.
Captain America punching Adolf Hitler sold a million copies, fun!
Written 5-19-2022
Contest: Captain America
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
It is too cold for bat flights around the moon
but I take the trip anyway,
the jar of moonshine was crazy strong.
When this year topples into the next,
time will find me in a crowded stadium
my back turned from the game in disgust,
or maybe I will be crouched
like a comic book gargoyle on the top of my TV
watching pockets of insanity
explode like grenades
on a plasma screen dream.
If I am able to write without crushing my fingers
I will try to describe the roving bands of reapers
and their scythes;
how those kindly terminators ended
the fun-house peep show,
how also behind those hoody figures
hordes of blank-eyes city workers
dutifully moped up the spill, as if spilled brains
were as hazardous as banana skins.