Long Flagon Poems
Long Flagon Poems. Below are the most popular long Flagon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flagon poems by poem length and keyword.
“How long has he been here?” said the other voice which Dumpty could see now that the dawn light started to grow, belonged to a largish Owl perched on a tree branch, near the sleeping cat. “Oh, I dragged him in just the other day” replied Dumpty, “the poor thing he was holding onto that large green flagon over there, could hardly get a word out of him he just nodded most times, and he has a glazed look in his eyes, I would say he has been deeply traumatized.” “How is he normally?” “‘Oh he is a most cheerful soul, full of energy, helpful to others and so
on; and he can be quite brave, I can remember when the clog-dancing Dutch mouse, fell down the stair.. she had to have bed rest for 2 weeks, well he volunteered to look after her kids and he did! As it so happens Siegfried and Roy were touring, well one of their panthers got into the backyard of the mouse family’s home and he was there pegging out some washing you know one of those young mice came down the back steps and the panther headed toward it... well this guy here he sorta made every hair on his body stand out stiff he looked over twice his size, and then quick as a wink he jumped on that bad ole panther, he jumped on his head and got his claws up its nose, he hung on like glue while I flew off to raise the alarm, poor old puss here took some punishment but he saved that young mouse alright, and that old panther looked really the worse for wear when he was recaptured” well I can see he does not like bullies observed Dumpty with a note of admiration in his voice, I do so hope he gets well I
would like to get to know him..!
©JOE MAVERICK 1-3-2014
Every true poet is my muse. Their poems,
The cannon fodder of dreams exploded,
(Feed me a dark crow) , even if they walk
With only one leg, or have to be carried
In the arms of, on the back of a friend.
Even if they have forgotten their purpose,
And only in fleeting lucid moments,
Remember their days as a poet,
Who could make sunshine last forever,
A mere smile into Christ's death on the cross,
I swear to God I will love him/her till death.
And you, you blackguard of Hell's gate,
This is your punishment, God's justice.
I bite off your head and spit the bitterness out.
I drink the warm blood of your still flapping body,
A flagon of the sweetest wine at a wedding feast,
My white shirt now bright red with your blood.
In your days of merciless flight, did you ever dream
That your death would bring such pleasure? !
Oh let me till death bring fear to the black heart
Who cannot distinguish me from its next victim,
Just by knowing I await you too, like Dexter. (1)
And you, heart of every poet, dare to dream
Of an absence of crows in blue skies
For this is God's Grace that awaits you.
Embrace the irrational, for the joy it brings,
We are truly the children of God.
In its time, what is low will be lifted up.
God is real and His Love is your reward,
Be your words without rhythm or rhyme,
For your words are the words of a poet.
And I do feel (though I am old and getting older) ,
You have a well earned place in my heart.
Rage with Dylan ‘against the dying of the light, '
Like a child rest your head on my thigh,
Rationality is way over-rated,
Just open your heart to my poem and you'll see.
I.
Religion and his spiteful visions,
Race and her unholy irrations,
Madness the first lady of Death the Destroyer,
Sadness the Arch-enemy of Peace and Bliss,
Oh! His breathe just ceased,
To whom,To what shall we plead,
On what mountains shall Volcanoes feast,
To what unholy Earthquakes shall men not shake and kneel with skeletal frames
that creak,
I have written for Kings and Monks,
Yes through My writings Paupers have become Princes,
The Affected the Most effective,
I have written for Salient minds,
This long have I beaten the Gongs of the gods to awake your passion for Nature,
Yes, Yes I have beaten this Drums so soft to herald the coming of a generation
that will enjoy true bliss between Beast and Man,
Aliens as my info tech clerk, Oh what jerks,
II.
The alchemy of Time and Fate,
It hovers around You your blessings of days agone, Just have faith,
Stretching to catch the Salient spirits of creativity the sage blows off his turbo
nerves,like you thus fainty,
I have seen Men drink stale wine off Pigskins called"The Happy Flagon",
Amalgamation of Love and Truth has held me this Strong,
Naked am I, immersing financial wealth into this pool of Humility,
Do try when walking with my father not to look directly at his eyes,but following
every pace,
Oh! The signs of time, Seeing my children whose bones are really filled with oil,
My spine's creak,cry and wail from this much spankings and your grandmum's
severe waist rolls,
Only whales know the true disciplines of Gentlemanness,
Clumsy Spades,Hungry gents...Oh! Satisfying my willing maids.
A chronological anthology
Of legends, folk lore and mythology
There’s no one called Eric
Or Ethel or Derek
For which I shall make no apology
Samson just got himself sheared
Delilah had cut off his beard
She cut off his hair
Then headed ‘down there’
And cut off far more than he’d feared
The Romans detested Boudicca
She never would be a boot licker
That feared Celtic lass
Stuck a spear up their a.s.s
And that made them march a bit quicker
According to legend and fable
Merlin was slightly unstable
His spell came apart
So ‘a wheel for a cart’
Turned into a bloody great table
In years gone by Lady Godiva
Had no car... she wasn't a driver
No licence of course
But show her a horse
She'd whip off her kit for a fiver
Robin Hood’s men were all merry
They'd guzzled a flagon of Sherry
With Marion pissed
Young Robin got kissed
And then they got all missionary
A fella who’s called Calvin Klein
Is a legend in his own time
Those rich city slickers
Wear Calvin Klein knickers
But wouldn't be seen dead in mine
But stand aside Canute and Midas
For legends still amble beside us
Not witch nor soothsayer
Nor some Dragon slayer
But mortals who get rid of Spiders
Perchance it’s your husband or wife
Who acts without sabre or knife
They might be an Eric
Or Ethel or Derek...
(And might be in fear of their life).
Contest: Your favourite legend
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
27 February 2020
Aethiopia is a land of exquisite beauty,
Inhabited by a princess worthy of its charms.
And the king her father thought it his duty
To boast of her glamour in spite of envious alarms.
So the lovely Andromeda sitting on the shore,
Her long hair waving seaward in the salty breeze,
Has been chained to rock by vengeance heretofore.
But the brave Perseus arrives and her he frees,
After slaying the sea monster with a vicious gore.
Now Andromeda is the goddess of all my dreams,
Who reigns supreme in the celestial sphere.
Her beauty is yet unique in the heavenly schemes,
And can cause clouds and tempest to disappear.
If I for a moment neglect to confess her glamour,
Savage beast would roar her praise from lust.
The most ardent lover she forces to stammer,
Her charms makes their tongues unable to adjust,
For it is that womanly way she has with men to enamour.
The forests, streams and all of nature are her gift,
Since every creature with a heart she delights.
O God make me her Perseus and please be swift,
For she is my only dream on starry nights.
My brand is honed sharp to slay the dragon,
And the keys to her chains lay buried in my sack.
We will fly away on a Pegasus drawn wagon,
And sail the celestial ocean in a star guided yacht.
To toast life eternal, may I lift this star-studded flagon?
She danced with grace, as a swan
He was inflamed, a roaring dragon
She swayed, a willow upon the lawn
He sipped warm wine from his flagon
With parted lips and feline eyes
She drew the breath from him
Her motions slowed, he started to rise
when he saw tanned legs, so trim.
One hand told him, Not yet and stop.
She removed a flower from her hair,
a chrysanthemum of Autumn's crop.
She offered it to him with much flair.
He stood majestic as a pine in Spring
The moon peeked over his shoulder
It was then the swan began to sing
With words of love, she grew bolder.
Her voice, snowflake soft on Winter's day
stilled the dragon but not his breath of fire.
His heat sweltered, hot as sun's Summer ray.
She burned his soul with passionate desire.
When her swan's call reached it's last trill
His hands reached out to draw her near.
Candles flickered on each cliff's rock sill
as he bent and whispered in her ear.
Tonight you danced and sang just for me,
My swan, you are my prize, my treasure.
You captured your dragon, felled as a tree.
Now I shall lavish you with love's pleasure.
She woke from the sound of his fierce roar.
On his pillow was a scorch burned black.
Her feathers ruffled, she watched him soar
Content with knowing tonight he'd be back.
The bold knight Dave had drunk a few.
The booze was flowing free.
With sword and shield and flagon of beer.
He sought to challenge me.
Now,I told this knight, I warned him true.
I said he'd drunk too much,
To challenge me in this drunken state I would kick him in to touch.
Now Dave, you see was a drunken lout.
Who wanted to fight the world.
He's a silly sod, a bit of a div, he liked to scream and shout.
He swung a punch and a kick or two, but they all missed their mark.
I had warned the fool in his drunken state, he had no bite, just bark.
I parried his moves, the blows all missed and then what came to pass.
I took his shield and then his sword and I put him on his ****.
Now Dave you see, was a nasty sod and hated fair fight rules.
He called my name, and I turned around, and he kicked me in the balls.
I cursed and screamed ( in honesty I really shed a tear).
This silly git he mistook my noise as if I was in fear.
Now cheating's good, (well if it's done by me.)
But this hairy git he took the piss and smashed me in the jewels.
Now I'm mad as hell, the rule book's gone, so sod the Queensbury rules.
I hit him hard in between the eyes, I thought he'd throw a fit.
But twas not the case, his legs gave out and he landed in the .
Trust is such a deliciously sweet thing
Who
stole
the
strawberries?
Make the yellow-bellied canary sing
Confidence lost in an abandoned mind
Smoky sulfur
and silica methane ...
uptake of noxious fumes to the brain
Pinning blame on the innocent
is such a wickedly gossip thing
Who
stole
the
strawberries?
Make the paid parrots walk the plank
Over the edge,
submersive feeling of a shark bite
Band of brotherly fear: pie-hole footsteps Caine a-coming,
like the razor slice of a sharp knife
A taste for deceit is an acquired appetite;
such a distended, gluttonous thing
Who
stole
the
strawberries?
Loyalty fled, as the cannons started firing
Resentment turned inward,
be a busted gut full of bellyaching —
Sunken boatload of wretched, scurvy self-loathing
Someone coveted the strawberries ...
perhaps it was a fickle foe pretend friend
Check the fingers for the evidence
that is scarlet proof crimson staining
Drink an ask flagon of cherry whine
Who
stole
the
strawberries?
Will be mutineer revealed in due time
We were making our way from Whyalla to Port Lincoln
For a day of sight seeing on the west coast driving along
We were about 20 kilometres south of Whyalla town
When we saw a Toyota 4 WD utility ahead going down
But there was something wrong with the driver ahead
We could see that careful driving was off the agenda instead
For he swerved all over the road from the left to the right side
And at times causing approaching traffic to veer away from him wide
Although off duty it became apparent that something had to be done
So we stopped and spoke to a drunk driver an investigation begun
He had two children in the vehicle and along with a flagon of wine
And had come from Cowell to his shack on the shore for fishing so fine
It was the only time that I recalled myself to duty in this unusual way
And we took the driver to Whyalla for a reading of 0.285 BAC that day
Losing his licence was a price to pay for being foolish as his fee
But taking two children on a drunken dangerous journey
Could have meant an end to the lives of his children so hard to comprehend
Being a common drunk behind the wheel of the Toyota could have meant the end.
© Paul Warren Poetry
1.
I have invited Shauna Allebach to a date to my table to drink wine,
She picks my flagon of rare ales and pours herself a glassful of wine,
Sweet lips hanging from her wine's glass's tip ,I'm so confined,
I see her creativity in a new design,
To my thoughts i resign,
Seeing intelligence in display on her every storyline,
"For iron sharpeneth iron" a true sign,
So true as "Saxon" eating swine;
2.
My arms akimbo,
My salient mind in limbo,
Anthony Edmond John picks up his quail, ink and this page,not a stumble;
Two sheets have I crumbled,
Still piecing together words to qualify M.Shauna Allebach,
For its for this genius i organise this praise rumble,
Our minds entwined making me humble,
My hands on this page see them fumble;
3.
I see you at the top no wonder,
Never let naive minds put your creativity asunder,
Nor let negative souls your inner you they plunder,
I give it up you! let the world feel your creative touch as a peel of thunder,
My darling, never forget Man with his blunders,
Be focused never look yonder,
Remember your pact as a literary saint,
In shades of gold do I adorn and bejewel you,
My crowned POETIC QUEEN.