Long Dickens Poems
Long Dickens Poems. Below are the most popular long Dickens by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dickens poems by poem length and keyword.
…of streets walked on still,
taken in by looks and glances that create
more than a memory - but a
gallery revered for years to come.
Of the skyline rising and falling like a
heart monitor, painted passionately red and
tinted orange from crushed autumn leaves;
the city’s fluid backbone muddied
and sludged and smudged by fingertips themselves
crafted and carved from bark in Regent’s Park;
a jewel, a diamond in a crown that sparkles in
a frame held by proud hands and tall chimes that
paint reminders of time across Victorian pebbles.
Of that ‘implacable November weather’ so loved
by Dickens. The cold air now water-coloured
against New Year explosions of kaleidoscopic palates
and clean canvases and annual additions
to the portfolio of a capital.
So, trace your hands back across each painting;
turn each image to reveal another take and
dash after brush after stroke after flick of
War of the Roses paint and Industrial Revolution charcoal
or the pencil of a Globe’s playwright with
the oil of underground tracks below the
Mache moulds of those streets walked upon still…
‘Three ghosts Mr Scrooge? I find that so hard to believe,
That they might simply visit, to give you a reprieve!’
‘And the ghost of Jacob Marley, who’s been dead these past seven years
Transformed into a door knob, merely to add to your fears!’
‘I don’t expect you, good sir, to understand or comprehend,
Other than there is no earthly reason, why I should pretend
Or put my reputation on the line, with such a sorry tale
But I assure you the new Scrooge, no soul shall derail’.
‘They say you’ve quite the benefactor, in the case of Tiny Tim
But is that to be ongoing or merely just a whim?
And It seems rather convenient that it should be Christmas time
That you positively decide to put your morals on the line!!
‘I wish you well good sir, I only ask that you be good
And help this dithering old gentleman who never understood
Go about the important business of respecting festive cheer
That the ghosts bestowed upon me, to keep throughout the year!
(Inspired by the book ‘A Christmas Carol’ written by Charles Dickens).
A conversation with a fictional character Poetry Contest
Date - 14th February
Sponsored by - Natasha L Scragg
Bath streets have sights on show
and houses sitting by the row
there’s not a place you cannot go
our crime level's always low
packed all year round with global tourists
city centre market stools fruit veg florists
nothing to be weary of or fear if I’m honest
wandering this wonderous this once Aqua Sulis
We’ve a sick history the Romans came to visit
you'll hear the local accent saying in it and is it
they built a mad bridge with actual shops on
for what to do a magazine called whats on
This the home of James Dyson Jane Austin
Bristol has a bridge and webbed off spring
this the town they crowned England’s first king
where the whole of Uranus was first seen lurking
On the walls "I was ere" written in graffiti
the underground water here's self heating
we've many a restaurant do you like eating
you can watch rugby from stadium seating
So in this place where Romans swim
the inaugural crowning of the King
inspired Dickens and Jane Austin
as well we improved your hoovering
from sending the first Royal Mail letter
The Post Office began right here
a mix of everything never better
in the River Avon we built a weir
we walked with Romans discovered a planet
saw bombings by Hitler but didn't panic
crowned the King of England at the Abbey
and too made a hoover without the baggy
because there's no where else this outstanding
the Nazi bombers but we're still standing
a one way system with no understanding
two thousand years now that's longstanding
Others say they come from a place all crummy
I honestly can’t relate
I’ve been elsewhere now and I'd say scummy
makes Bath look bloody great
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iU4_Pzq_gN0&list=PLrWXQQOwWgeAzG8lMiXPHNQeO_aFFxhLi&index=6&t=0s
COPY AND PASTE LINK FOR SONG (UNFINISHED RECORDING) is that a word unfinished lol
I'm heading home after five
humming to myself quietly;
I've missed the December' sunset by an hour,
Christmas lights sparkle, folks greet each other:
hear the joy in their voices!
Jesus will end their worries:
they will thrive, not strive!
Naughty boys laugh at Bozo, he has
red hair and long feet;
he marched in the Halloween Parade
and played his drum with a fast beat!
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
Show them you are in a happy mood,
don't be afraid of being booed and hissed!
Carols take the dullness away,
and they replace it with cheerfulness:
take your trumpet, your guitar,
or just hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly...
feel inside serenity,
listen to golden bells
ringing joyfully!
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
Peter is the new Santa with a white beard,
his favorite visitor is Reed;
look around the corner: there goes funny Elf!
Scrooge grins, he's all for himself:
stay away, don't laugh;
Greedy Scrooge is afraid of Christmas ghosts!
Dickens knew him well:
a guilty conscience won't let
won't let anybody sleep;
everyone expressed ingratitude
to someone who was cheap and rude,
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly,
and despite all: be very merry;
oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly:
see snowflakes falling,
and festive kids running!
The frosty evening holds a magical spell,
the whole universe praises Jesus!
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
David understood
the mysteries of the Heavens,
faith is the only stronghold of the weak;
songs are the humble gifts of the meek!
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly...
walk around: who happy, who's sad?
Ah, many don't have
the strength that faith gives,
walk with the Good Shepherd
and make him your friend:
glory will be yours
of you proclaim Him
your King and shield!
Hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
I'm heading home
humming to myself quietly,
decorations are pretty;
snow and silence charm
and together
with the Christmas music,
we'll disarm
each woeful feeling inside:
let the Jule season bring us more joy!
Carols are played everywhere:
will they warm up all the cold hearts
in the crowded square?
Oh, hum, hum, hum
to yourself quietly!
P.S. The track of my song is posted on CloudSound.com
What the Dickens! Santa ain't wearing knickers
well his pants got caught inside the chimney
now here's the kicker...
Little Joe woke up in the middle of the night
and gave Santa such a jolly fright
now here's the kicker...
It was drafty there wasn't any gas nor heat
Mrs. Chump snored upstairs like dead meat
now here's the kicker...
Mr. C was 5 feet tall and wasn't a Clause at all
he didn't know how to rob Peter to pay Paul
now here's the kicker...
The real Ms. C owned a solar panel, Oh what fun
gave it to Ming Ming who flew like a Son Of A Gun!
now here's the kicker... Eh !
He burned Santa's pants then laughed, giggled, scoffed
but as Santa danced around the sun poured in the loft
now here's the real kicker...
Christmas was a blast now little Joe C could finally be,
toasty as a glow worm in a house built for three.
Merry Christmas Everyone !
Love,
From Santa's Girl :)
Four score, nothing there
Ukraine lost the Roman hosted sporting affair
Back in London Boris raises a Saturday pint
Proclaiming success on this summer’s night
Soon the red, white boys will be coming home
Right now, Wembly is dark and alone
Waiting for Tuesday’s Spanish Inquisition
Italy goalers planning their position
But as for the Danes
Wednesday is their game
A fairy tale
Against the old guard writing the daily mail
No reason to complain
Dickens and Anderson will be talked about noting societal fame
UK will put up their best
Defending a modern-day stadium nest
While those from Denmark
Will be able to hark
Under the lights in the evening’s dark
Hollering Christian ‘we love you’
While turning Nordic Leif on Erikson too
A protagonist inside the sports book pages
Hero to those counting wages
British need to hold serve
To get what they deserve
A trip to the Championship round
And a trophy worthy of a couple pounds
Giving to the victor who wins it all
Competing in UEFA European futbol
The sign he reads out loud, “There’s holes ahead.”
The Rip Van Winkle Bridge quite disturbs me.
A story book that’s come to life — with head
To lose. My dad inches along bravely.
The chickens must brood o’er a dicken’s deuce.
We steer to the left and the right, afraid.
We stare at the grave pavement claim, the goose
Of golden time, the sleepy hollow shade.
The radio plays somber tunes, as Cole
Never imagined death— the Catskills fresh.
Diedrich Knickerbocker, lots of soul,
Could tread the troubled water’s edge — refresh.
Let’s build our solid homes, not on the sand.
You’ve guessed! We flew the coop, hopped on dry land!
5/18/2020
Bridge over troubled waters Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Used howmanysyllables.com
1.The Rip Van Winkle Bridge - a cantilever bridge from Hudson, NY to Catskill, NY
2.There was a real sign on the bridge that said, “Holes ahead.”
3.Washington Irving wrote the story of “Rip Van Winkle” and “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” In the latter, there are people who lose their heads. At one time he wrote by the pen name, Diedrich Knickerbocker when he wrote a satirical book about NY history and politics.
4.Shakespeare used the term “dickens” - deuce being another term for the devil
5.“Chicken Little,” was a children’s tale where the chicken “was afraid,” the sky was falling - it wasn’t!
6. In “Jack and the Beanstalk,” Jack stole the goose that laid golden eggs.
7. Thomas Cole - created the first paintings of the American landscape
8. I grew up with the colorful history of Dutchess County and thereabouts.
How thrilling was a novel long ago
I read for school: A Tale of Two Cities.
It tells of common people whose great woe
comes from the upper class’ atrocities.
A doctor tortured in Bastille has been released.
To London he returns and regains his health
with his daughter Lucy’s help. To the east,
things get ugly for the French with great wealth.
Two men love Lucy: Sydney and Darnay.
She weds Darnay, who’s lied about his family.
They’d locked her dad up. She forgives him anyway!
But now he has big problems. He’s nobility!
It happens that poor Sydney has a face
much like Darnay’s. Though Sydney’s never been
a man of character, he will find grace
by taking Darnay’s place at the guillotine.
This novel shows the need for reformation
and is a treasure from Great Britain’s past.
It teaches redemption through transformation.
Dickens’ stories through the centuries will last.
Feb. 19, 2017 for Line Gauthier's Life lesson from a favourite novel
The fancy degree from a world famous school
set in a frame that’s worth more
than the paper on which it’s printed
all the awards
the accolades
none of it has taught you
the lessons I learned long ago
before either of us could even read or had ever heard
of Shakespeare or Marlowe
Dickens or Carroll or Hemingway
when we were but larvae of what we would become
when you put on your first pair of patent leather shoes
polished to a high shine
before you toddled to the table for tea
at around the same time that half a world away
I slipped into my sandals
the straps hanging by a thread
the holes in the soles patched with duct tape
before sauntering into the kitchen
to spread mayonnaise or mustard or margarine
onto a single slice of stale bread
so I would have something in my stomach
to see me through until supper
which would consist of a can of some sort of beans
and a ten cent box of macaroni and cheese
with slices of cheap hot dogs stirred in
sometimes cut into quarters
when money was even more tight due to a medical bill
some other unexpected expense
You may be capable of convincing an audience
but you can never really know
You will never understand what that life is
Some things they can’t teach you at Cambridge
Although yours truly modest,
the only personal issue
I will lightly boast about
constitutes lingering
self worthlessness bred
if not prior to first grade,
than most definitely incipient,
academic deadlines
loomed large with dread
and exacerbated by procrastination
quickly adopted as linchpin
damned obsessive compulsive
currents (i.e. thoughts) fed
modus operandi, which intricate
schema writ over lifetime invisible
within this talking head
who ironically enough
never uttered a beep
engendered from lack
of confidence, esteem,
somehow worthlessness,
insignificance,
emasculation, et cetera
took root, and didst leap
(axon to neuron)
and said mindset did seep
percolating into every nook,
and cranny comprising
aging shades, transformed
gray matter, sans this
beatle browed bummer, a deep
purple, though easily mistaken
for minuscule Uriah Heap,
or perhaps, ewe might notice,
(albeit while in a sheep
push disposition) similarities
between mine fist
sized thinker, and another creep
pee totally tubular Charles Dickens
character, or maybe
even a commercial
for nano bot sized jeep
grand Cherokee keep
up a moderate clip despite,
and/or because I
oft times feel a light
buzz sensation within me quite
average gummed up noggin
jammed numb skull,
(essentially barren aged
teenage wasteland recently
undergoing gentrification),
(yeah how really) excite
ting, a no brainer fright
fully glommed with peevish
gobbledygook plus worthless,
obsolete, and crammed academic right
hand busily twiddling, scribbling,
and sloppily drafting
error riddled assignments
deliberately failing heavily
marked with bright
colors adding oomph
to mental blight
punctuated by
attaining puny height
(...oh, about seventy inches),
nonetheless, my slight
physique and mute quiet
as a mouse, I might
as well hove been a stand in
for Charlie Brown right
down to the tree eating kite
good grief - never an ending fight
with Lucy, hence now this knight
in rusty armor forever
disparaged his might
and attests to
20/20 hind sight!