Long Fawkes Poems

Long Fawkes Poems. Below are the most popular long Fawkes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fawkes poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Echoes of Your Mind

PG RATED


Don’t spoil tonight with the woes of tomorrow,
For that might lead to a multitude of trouble,
Nasty Ghosts are looking to mess up your sleep,
But if you wish to insist, let’s take a peep.

Ghosts come unbidden from the foggy, muddy, misty
Grounds of silence and dreams, somewhere from elsewhere,
In the echoes of your mind, whilst still fast asleep, a threat,
For softly they tread in the dark, ourselves only to blame I bet.

Too many horror movies we have watched of vampires
And werewolves, of witches who cast spells,
Lock you in dungeons, bubble bubble their stew, they brew,
Which consists of snails and puppy’s dogs tails, and you.

How about Dracula, and his bloody, thirsty, stained fangs,
Rather watch fireworks on Guy Fawkes that go bang, bang,
But don’t wander too far for the shadows have eyes at night,
They just might jump out of nowhere and give you a fright.

So before going to sleep read something joyful and happy,
Perhaps a Tom and Jerry show or Fred Flintstone and Barney,
Don’t spoil your evening with the woes of tomorrow,
Put all aside and focus on past glad memories, often forgotten.
Form: Rhyme


Bang Crash Crackles

Oh no, that time of year again
when I hear noises in my head
My owner tries to comfort me
snuggling, huddling, nurturing
but I just want the noise to stop
such loudness is so torturing
She plays her music loudly
hoping this will stop my trembling
The only sounds that I can hear
are sounds I am remembering
For I was found on Guy Fawkes night
so many years ago
Tied to a fence with no escape
weak and starving of food and love
As all around me fireworks sounded
noise so frightening feeling hounded
Lighting up the skies with sounds
Bang  Crash  Crackles
Whizz  Whoosh  Whistles
Bathed in panic and starved of love
Scared by sounds of a million missiles
Even though the sound’s abating
cannot stop myself from shaking
My lovely owner soothing me
whispering comforting words
As gradually my panting stops
my heartbeat slows right down
For I’ve survived another year
the banging ceased I have no fear


Written for all the dear animals so frightened by the noise of fireworks
2nd November 2018

Contest Choice 10 Personification 
Sponsor  Brian Strand 
1ST PLACE

Premium Member Nursery Rhyme Land

Hickory Dickory Dock, the mouse,
Ran up the clock,
But the crooked little man
In his crooked little house,
Who caught this crooked mouse
After Humpty Dumpty's fall,
Could not prevent the coming
Down of baby, cradle and all!
Now old Mother Hubbard,
Checked her bare cupboard
And found Jack and Jill,
Who lived just up the hill,
She wrapped poor Jack’s head
In vinegar and brown paper!
Guy Fawkes scandalous caper,
Was renown, he met the Duke of York,
Who to Fawkes, seemed quite a dork,
For the Duke took all his men up,
Then down, and up and again down, 
He did not want to break his crown!
At that moment a Ladybird, 
Whose house was on fire and 
Her children gone, flew to the house,
That Jack built, and sat on the maidens
Lap all forlorn,
In the early morn,
But the maiden had gone to bed with John
Who still had his trousers on!
Both had a ball, and sang 
A song of Sixpence,
But in their defence
They were hiding from Guy Fawkes
And his gunpowder plot,
In bed, thought of it naught!
Suddenly through their bed
Ran three blind mice for their life
And a farmers wife,
Who was cutting their tails with a knife!
Imagine three little kittens,
Who had lost their mittens
But could have no pie, 
When they saw the blind mice,
Pie was history, as once,
Twice and thrice,
They caught the blind mice!
Meanwhile Polly had put the kettle on
So that all the mourners for Cock Robin,
Could all have a cup of tea,
It was the fly with his little eye,
Who first saw him die.
However, through all of this,
Little Jack Horner
Who sat in his corner
Heard Tom, Tom the Pipers son,
And though related none
Visited the Queen of hearts,
Who gave them some tarts!
Night time was nigh
And way up in the sky,
Was a twinkling star,
That Jack Sprat spotted from afar,
And so did old King Cole,
But at the same time heard the bell toll,
For poor cock robin,
So he started sobbing,
But soon cheered up when
He saw a fine lady upon a white horse,
Riding to Banbury Cross!
Wee Willie Winkie, asked for a ride
Through the town,
Still in his nightgown!
But when he saw the cow jump 
Over the moon,
And the dish,
Run away with the spoon,
He rubbed his eyes and said what a fiddle,
Hey diddle diddle!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Penny For the Guy

It’s the fifth of November; Bonfire Night is finally here
The guy is set alight, oh how the little children cheer

Smoke billows, flames dance, tiny faces are aglow
We eat hot chestnuts; munching them with great gusto

Mummy gives me a sparkler it burns with a dazzling light
Sparks fly like liquid silver, they are wondrous sight

Such a kaleidoscope of colours light up the evening sky
A rocket blooms like a chrysanthemum way up high

Golden sparks stream as the catherine wheels spin
Hear the cracker jack explode; their noise makes such a din

Fireworks illuminate the sky, the crowd gasps with delight
The display ends in a crescendo on this gala Guy Fawkes night

Penny for the guy Contest
Sponsored by Shadow Hamilton

11~01~16
Form: Couplet

How Sweet It Is

Whilst sitting on the Launch Pad
They await the final countdown
Their rocket – called TAKE 5, begins to shudder
The Captain is well known, and called BUTTERFINGER  Boris
The other crew are MIKE and IKE and a female they call Doris

Rising with a roar like thunder
The MILKY WAY GALAXY to their left
Igniting like a Rocket at a Guy Fawkes celebration
They travel through the atmospheres and up into the stratospheres
The crew men on the Mother ship are called THREE MUSKETEERS

As they approach the Harvest Moon
A wondrous sight for all to see
The ship positions carefully, preparing to touch down
The Moon looks like a Christmas bauble dangling from the skies
Such a WHOOPER – it’s humongous, they really can’t believe their eyes

Landing with a bump and beginning to alight
They step upon this waterless and dusty satellite
There are SNO- CAPS for to climb, with such a steep incline
Great MOUNDS of debris all around that block their route ahead
But truthfully the crew would like to be at home, instead 

As they explore the Moon once more
They stumble upon a strange creature
A little Green Man, who is very obese
Announcing himself with a sweeping bow, as Mr WATCHAMACALLIT
He’s training to run a Moon MARATHON, but he needs to get fitter to win it

The crew they finished all their chores
Boarding the Mother Ship they fasten her doors
Lift off is smooth, as they drift and float, gliding back into space
But hearing a strange voice nearby, whispering "Are those goodies for me"
They discover Mr W, on bended knees, embarking on a chocolate SPREE

But how on earth did he climb aboard, this CHUNKY little man 
The crew in such a quandary and not knowing what to do
Should they turn back NOW AND LATER tell the reasons why
Or continue on their journey home, they did not want to die

Let’s take him home, cried Doris, he can live with me, I like his smile
But the twinkle in her eyes became a tear upon her cheek
She was lonely and emotional as she began to speak
She had fallen for the Moon Man in amongst the ballyhoo
Back home now and in wedded bliss, living on 5th AVENUE

How Sweet it is Competition, Sponsor Carol Connell, written on 29.09.18

Contest Brian's Choice D
Sponsor Brian Strand
Form: Rhyme


Tales of the Lone Wanderer 3

Something goes wrong with the purifier
Someone must go on and activate the code
But whosoever risks deadly levels of radiation exposure
Fawkes volunteers, after all he is a super mutant, what should he fear?
The purifier sparks, creating a radioactive explosion
Two weeks later the lone wanderer awakes with nothing broken

He finds Fawkes raiding the nuka cola vendors
The lone wanderer limps feeling tender
He says to Fawkes 'I need a vacation'
Fawkes laughs and says 'Be Patient'

The lone wanderer asks why and Fawkes responds 'Because we've nearly stopped the Enclave Invasion'
He laughs and grabs his sword, gatling, and magnum
Fawkes tosses him a Nuka cola quantum 
The lone wander chug it down, tipping up the bottom
Form: Rhyme

History Lesson

Poor old Guido Fawkes who was born up in York
fought in Spain, rebel flame there was lit
and though it is known as the 'eighty year's war'
when he came back he hadn't aged a bit.
With Wintour and Catesby , they all hatched a plot
to send all of our MP's to hell
and only Lord knows if
with all that explosive
with more luck it would have gone well.
Fawkes heard people coming
who were checking the plumbing, their footsteps were near ,
and much louder.
Instead of the rats and occasional cat, they found
several tons of gunpowder.
And trapped in the cellar that unlucky fellah
no chance of receiving a pardon,
midst the hot dogs and beer
is punished each year
on a bonfire in my neighbour's garden.
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Guy Fawkes Day Do Celebrate

November 5, 2022 

A good friend told me about the UK festivities.
To explain it, in detail, it’s not my proclivity.

But so awesome to know, at least, Fawkes was a fighter.
As submission to bogus mandates here, and in the UK grows ever tighter!

King James, in the 1600’s was taking away more rights of Catholics.
Fawkes wanted to blow up Parliament, kill King James….
Alas, the gunpowder, stored  too long….as useless as a used match stick!

Our elected nincompoops use our freedom to forward, astronomical agendas.
Aligned with the idea to merrily change our children’s, God-given genders.

So celebrate with grand bonfires and grand fireworks this night!
Fawkes and his crew were executed, but at least, they tried to make wrong, 
right!

                                   11/5/2022
                                    8pm PST
                                       USA
Form: Couplet

TWINFLAMES

Obsidian oscillated into lava
     slid across syntactic streams
        tumbled thick greenwood thickets 
           impenetrability an illusion wicked
              shatter splinter sassy sinkers

Lord Ashtar himself lifted gnarled garbage 
    two big broken black bags to Source 
      split seconds of screaming searing sores
         baby posture soak singular satin  
              Prophet Daniel’s prison-free prediction

Coloured lava languid loosen
     yin-yang of yesteryear’s yarrows
        as Watchfulness wed yearnings
        no black bumblebees boomerang bombs 
              rainbow hands bell belly beckoning 

Solar flares ignite twin hearts atoning
  corona emissions spill splashing space
      sodalite sprinkle sundrenched shores 
       kaleidoscope pupils please pulsing fate
           Hearts purely placed on golden plate 

Four eyes fathomed Guy Fawkes fickle 
    feuding onto a fervid foolproof floor
       Stonehenge now sturdily steadily stood 
           sedating simple silent sleep suavely 
              accede alchemical ascensions  

Missions matched mottoed moulded mountains 
    timelines merge in moss musical movement 
        Justice jump Jungian jurisdiction 
          Presence posy a present perfection
            Dreams deliver dictums to Duet
                                      
             Delicious domed desserts diffusing !

From John Johnson To Guy Fawkes

T’will be his death of this he's sure
But for this sin there is no cure
All John did was to stand on guard
Now his family name forever marred.

As a child trained in the Protestant faith
Too late he had now seen his wraith
Converted to Catholicism and fervent too
Knowing never more to see morning dew

He trembled, weak and so close to death 
Afraid now to take his known last breath
His bowels loose his spirit lost
Forehead bowed, fingers crossed.

He could almost feel the horse and rope
But knowing he now had no hope
Confessed he did as Guido Fawkes
These step were to be the last he walks

His genitals cut and then to be roasted
Bowels and heart, next  to be toasted
‘John’ then ‘Guido’ now known as Guy
Did not want this way to die

Through accident or was it his plan
He climbed the ladder with his hangman
Did he jump or was it a mistake
As he fell and his own neck did break

The legacy for this man Guy
An effigy to be strung up high
Set on fire every November fifth
With explosive fireworks lit forthwith

No child he left to bear his name
But Guy Fawkes still hangs onto fame
To blow King James of Scotland high
For this act of treason thirteen did die 
© GG 3/12/2013

Contest Entry: Happy Holiday

Wraith …own ghost.
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace