Long Conner Poems
Long Conner Poems. Below are the most popular long Conner by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conner poems by poem length and keyword.
mama put
i can never forget?
the ghetto
i was born in
the ghetto
i was raised in
the ghetto
it not easy
sometimes i wonder
how i came this far
so i can never forget
the past
either can i forget
our famous
mama put
mama put
is not easy
when we live below
a dollar per day like
they say
thank God for
our mothers
thank God
for mama food
we don't know
what we would have
done without your help
in feeding us with our
low income
mama put is in every
Conner of every ghetto
very delicious African meal
downluted with a sachet pure water
oh mama put me some
more
was our chant with
an empty Tommy
about to swallow an
elephant size of fufu
mama put
i have been out from
the ghetto for so long
yet each time
am back home
i dance in the ghetto
i gave to the ghetto
i never forget my hood
so many born in the
ghetto are rich now
they have gotten
mansions on the uptown
is a shame to the hood
how suddenly they
forget their past
invest in the ghetto
gave to the ghetto
pay your title to the poor
they need you
they need us
i love the ghetto so
i never forget to
visit till date
my favourite delicious
mama put
...The bear returned to his great feast,
and the trigger squeezed on back.
The gun barked, led striking deep,
the bear roared at the attack.
It raced off into the woods,
dashing for a creekside,
but the bullet had rent it’s heart,
it stumbled, fell, and died.
Conner walked up to the bear,
reloading quickly as he went,
ever ready to let loose again
if the bruin was not spent.
But the bear was truly down and dead,
it would pass no more this way.
Then Conner glanced in horror at
the grizzly’s final prey…
He saw a spot of blue amidst
a horrid, scarlet smear,
then a touch of orange and green,
he knew it was no deer.
Pacing close he saw the ruin
of what was a human face
torn by claws and awesome force,
he gagged and turned away.
Despite the damage he knew the man,
he’d seem him the day before,
twas the young hippie who’d led the fools,
who’d led the protestors.
Conner fought the urge to vomit,
to just take off and sprint,
fool or not, no man could deserve
what had been done to him.
He knew he had to find a place,
where he’d get cell reception.
the police needed to see all this
and take the proper actions.
He asked himself how this had come,
but knew the answer clear,
the problem bear had walked right in,
devoid of fright or fear.
He figured that it had found their camp,
maybe drawn by food smells.
it had come at night, found this young man
and dragged him into Hell.
Conner shook his head and sighed,
Then said to the empty air:
“Damnit kid, why couldn’t you let me
hunt this stinking bear…”
What would it be like, through the eyes of a child
What if, staring into the abyss...
on a passing cloud floats a dream
~god's infinite paint brush~
A shadow emerges
A symphony of angels sing, music of the night
It was the night before Christmas
On display, snowflakes falling everywhere...
Dancing in the moonlight
~Countless minutes-blown away~
In a perfect world, if only for a minute...
I dreamed a dream
The dreamer
I feel like E.T.
1. What Would It Be Like: Lyric Man
2. Through The Eyes Of A Child: Carole Duet
3. What If: Susan Ashley
4. Starring Into The Abyss: Winged Warrior
5. On A Passing Cloud Floats A Dream: Andrea Dietrich
6. God's Infinite Paint Brush: Panagiota Ramios
7. A Shadow Emerges: Robert Lindsey
8. A Symphony Of Angels Sing: Arturo Michael
9. Music In The Night: Carolyn Devonshire
10. It Was The Night Before Christmas: Tom Cunningham
11. On Display: Carol Conner
12. Snowflakes Falling Everywhere: Dear Heart
13. Dancing In The Moonlight: John Hamilton
14.Countless Minutes: Brandy Nicole
15. Blown Away: Gregory Barden
16. In A Perfect World: Richard Lamoureux
17. If Only For A Moment: Line Gauthier
18. I Dreamed A Dream: Charles Messina
19. The Dreamer: Maria Williams
20. I Feel Like E.T. Maureen McGreavy
20 Titles for 20 Friends Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
7-21-2019
Why should we hire you?
I guarantee this is the only conversation
we will have while I work here
Why did you leave your last job?
The tried to make we ask an 95 year old if she needed insurance for her 2 year deceased husbands PlayStation 5
What is your weakness?
It’s either my concentration or
When did you get there
What are your strengths?
I am great at ignoring questions
Good with Subzero in Mortal
I am amazing at pretending to be sick
I have a brilliant coughing emoji
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
Creating a time machine and coming all the way back here to stop me from taking this job
Are you Sarah Conner
Tell me about your ability to work under pressure?
For let me think
All of my life I have been pulled by a gravitational force and under the same air pressure as everyone in this room.
Yes I can send the next person in no pressure
Describe your management style?
I manage to avoid as many of the management as I can over the whole works hours
and that goes double outside of work
Why have you been unemployed for so long?
Now I am gonna take this in too parts
Unemployed
Technically I was employed by the government
to look after my terminally ill wife
So long now is that a comparison
But to what
That mountain that shadows your office
Has hardly stretched
A humming bird has flapped its last
The middle of the ocean has began a wave
So long
This was fun let’s not do it again
What is your dream job?
Well my dream job would be like a little factory
Conveying belts moving clouds of dreams
People forcing them in boxes
While chewing sandwiches
I have a corner office where I get to design them
I am a head dream architect
Yes I can follow security
I know you don’t want to hear it
But one day you WILL
look up and think,
“Dammit Mom”
And then notice the rose-gold
Of a sunset
Just like I’m
Always taken by surprise
At how your eyes
Can change from green
to dusty gold then blue
Depending on the hue
Of your plain olive
or blue H & M T-shirt
I know you don’t want to hear it
But you will take that hike one day
With one or two or three
Progeny in tow and go
“Wow, inhale that smell”
Of wet outdoors and nature and life
Just like I inhale the boyness of you
Before you become a man
The spicy alcohol of cologne hiding
The musk of undone laundry maybe
The sweat, excretion of locker room,
Football, or track exertion
I know you don’t want to hear
About the birds and the bees,
Sticking your head out the truck window,
“Mom, please!”
But one day she’ll come for your heart
Just like you came for mine
that morning you were born
Conner woke up in his hotel
and looked to the small clock.
He’d slept through his early alarm,
it was later than he thought.
He leapt up and quickly dressed,
for he had a job to do,
so he pulled on his camo pants,
and readied his rifle too.
A problem bear wandered about
this small, Wyoming town.
A grizzly, it had killed three dogs,
twas his job to bring it down.
The bear population had thrived of late,
so this happened more and more,
Fish and Game would send him out
to do what some deplored.
Like the protesters who’s dogged him
the last two days on the trail,
making noise so any close game
would hear them and turn tail.
They said killing the bear was cruel,
they were here to protect it,
so Conner had tried to wake early
to avid them on this trip.
He expected to see all of them
when he went out to his truck,
Instead he saw nary a soul,
he cold not believe his luck!
He drove then to a patch of forest
near the town’s big campground,
sightings here had him convinced
that the grizzly was lurking ‘round.
Into evergreen woods he strode,
past boulders gray and tall,
though steep ravines and parklands
wearing the coat of early fall.
For two hours he had no luck
looking for tracks or sign.
No scat, no fur, nothing at all,
he feared he'd wasted time.
Then he saw a trail of fresh prints
straight through the piney duff,
and from a thicket to his left
came a raspy, guttural huff.
He peered deep, saw the brown head
of a massive grizzly’s bear
If fed on something, big teeth stained
with a slick, crimson veneer.
It paused then, sniffing the air,
seeing not Conner on the hunt.
He hoisted his rifle, sliding left,
carefully sighting the gun...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
My flying dreams have flown away.
Another place, another day,
when dreaming in my bed at night,
into the air I used to lift,
and with the stars or clouds I’d drift.
So young was I when all seemed bright!
No more to starlight do I sail,
for I have seen some big dreams fail.
I’d thought failed dreams would be my plight
as plans in my life went awry.
Farewell to dreams in which I fly -
Yet. . .for my dreams I need to fight!
My flying dreams have flown away.
At least that’s what I used to say
when I believed those dreams had flown
away for good; but now I feel
perhaps some dreams can be made real!
I must not sit around and moan
how even daydreams can’t come true.
I’m feeling hope has come anew.
An optimism now has grown
inside me. Do I dare again
to dream I’ll leave the ground and then
touch sky and reap all that I’ve sown?
I’m dreaming daydreams, hoping so!
I want to soar and touch a star
and LIVE my dream before I go. . .
June 21, 2018 for Conner Lotts' Hutinashro - My First Contest Poetry Contest
Tried to do this in Iambic Tetrameter. Hope I succeeded. I really like this form.
The light is low but the music loud,
blaring from fiddles and steel guitars.
The bar is filled with a moderate crowd,
could be anywhere, but here they are,
drinking and two-stepping in this bar.
But the sight of them must inspire fear,
for the media says,’Only racists drink here.’
Stanley in boots is twirling his wife.
Conner, in trucker hat, does some shots.
A country band covers Make It Through the Night,
While Big Billy won’t move from his spot,
Sharing wings those who sadly have got,
A taste for plain and everyday beer,
a sure sign the only racists drink here.
Now Stanley you see is dark as coal,
and not from working in the mines,
His wife is pale, and lives not on the dole.
For thirty years by each other’s side,
taking the challenges of life in stride.
But the sight of this makes it ever clear,
they must be racists if they’re drinking here.
Conner’s a man who has never hurt
a single person in all of his days,
He runs the gas station down on of McGirk,
and keeps people going their way,
He puts in long hours for his pay.
But selling gas draws apocalypse near,
and only a racist would be drinking here.
Big Billy may not always eat healthy,
but his smile sure lights up the town,
The nicest of fellows, plays Santa for free,
in December when Christmas comes round,
for all the little kids in the town.
But to city folk, that’s plainly weird,
and he must be a racist for drinking here.
The band up front survives on covers
ff musicians who’ve been to the Opry,
They’re known across West Virginia,
for tunes both swinging and twangy,
they never leave the folks hanging.
But there is no turn-table in their gear,
so they must be racists for playing here.
The owner has heard this all before,
the endless and smug contentions,
from those who country-folk plainly abhor,
those who say he’s beyond redemption,
With not a whit of evidence to mention.
He lets them have their imagined fears,
he’d never want those scum drinking here.
Twas the night before Christmas late dinner.
Table set, waiting for Conner, a beginner.
Wondering which turkey will be a winner.
Wild round neighborhood, non any thinner.
Turkeys saw the peaceful neighbor coming,
Plain funny, stomping heavy, and humming.
Toms all disappeared and hid while thumbing
Energetic to all the hens to stop chumming.
Neighbor looked all through the woods becoming
Fully stressed out, he saw his evident shortcoming.
In thought, no turkey round rhythmic drumming
His weapon. In an awkward look, little unbecoming.
Turkeys out of sight, outsmarted in the battlefield.
A series of loud banter yelps filled the field.
Turkey heads yield, poking out the brush, concealed.
Glaze ham dressed like turkey for dinner revealed.
Yes we fell for it, we drank, we smoked, we tried all kinds of stuff that made us sick.
Yes we seen the stuff on every conner, we thought it was all good for us.
Yes we thought abortion was good, that we were to young and should continue on with that type of life.
Yes we fell for it, a lot of us died, we lost our life, we could never stop all of the stuff that made us sick.
Yes we watched all the examples and thought that was the way we were to dress.
Yes we wanted good examples, of how to love life and reach all of our potential.
Yes we are trying to move ahead and love and learn, and forgive.
Yes so please stop all the bad stuff, put it in a place where people are aware of the impact of that stuff.
Yes we want our future to look bright, we do not want to fall for any negative intentional triggers that cause us death.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.