Long Foley Poems
Long Foley Poems. Below are the most popular long Foley by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Foley poems by poem length and keyword.
"they gained an understanding of things
from being in the knowing
speak ye that ye be listened to
might those who desire your company invite you
to those gatherings that might include
your name
and your works might guarantee you
to access to those who desire to have you as husband"
they taught requirements for eligibility for marriage.
they spoke against violating the trust of husband and wife.
they spoke candidly of issues that caused father and his children to seperate.
they spoke same of issues with mother and children.
they expressed concerns of those who need help escaping their real world.
they gave advice on how not to be attracted to your own.
they didn't see these people as sick: because they had not violated any trust.
they spoke so that these people had knowledge against those
issues that often caused such things to happen.
they spoke in front of people
who were well knowledged in taking notes and understanding
what they heard: and conveying the message of the speaker
with what the gathering actually wished to accomplish.
this all without commentary or using real people as examples, thus creating
a prejudice against certain types of people.
they spoke to be an example to a world that needed to
know not all people are taught to succeed: some are taught to error
so that they might be storied and used as example to terrify people into
being straight. They taught these people how to speak that their words might not cause people to gather and be rebels against things they knew nothing of.
they taught them how not to take sides, and taught them the science of prevent things to occur so that people might be human, in their dealings, and not savage and strange. Multi level thinking used to prevent certain actions. and new words with new definitions to warn people about the consequences of their actions before they could even start.
how to be a family, and not be unwise. factoring the proper use of communication, to prevent foley and discord.
Factors of communacation....notes for the book of find common ground.
Little Jenny was always found to be very prim and proper/
Outside reading her cook book by Betty Crocker/
Lazy Mary Sat on the lazy suzanne,
Butch Malone was their next of kin kissing cousin,
Along with Mary this made up the famed dirty dozen !
That sand box experiment really made us laugh/
Shortly after gym class,
Butch Malone along with the famed Benjamin Bankhead/
Jimmy Foley the local guitar player knew,
The pathway in life that we should choose/
Often he would be found taking a tremendous dump in the boy's urenil !
The path of least resistance sought about from a chosen few,
Often he would appear in shepherds clothing similar to little boy blue !
Playing guitar like he's going out of style !
That sandbox experience was designed to distract all the teacher's ?
We set up stuffed dummies just to look like real people,
Right underneath the bleacher's !
Old man Winter's who worked for Mr. Kazoo knew the score/
Very often he was being seen outside the local liqour store,
Lest I emplore,
The sand box experiment was in full swing on that one particuler day/
Butch Malone thought he was the real king ?
That was until Mrs. Maloney saw him through the window !
Next the time was drawing near/
Then so was that dinner bell,
Mrs. Maloney started talking to all those dummies,
Next thing you know she had tripped over little Johnny !
He was stuffed that was/
Flying three feet high in the air she had fell right on her face !
What a social disgrace !
Yet what had happened to Butch Malone ?
Like a little dog without his bone/
He pee pee'd his pants then cried all the way home !
The next day when Mrs. Maloney got her second wind/
She didn't even know where to begin/
For that little stunt the whole class was suspended for the day,
Yet for the gang including Butch Malone what did they say ?
All in all the sandbox experiment really did make their day !
Form:
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Tom sat fer-nent the table within a smoker's chair
A table pot of pra-tes and bacon quivers there
The cook an apron dirty wipes the grease and clears her throat
She cooks her husband dinner the children's and the goat's
He smokes his pipe asunder and prods and pokes its shoot
Burnt black his index finger tobacco by the root
Dear wife is it not ready for the pit I have to trot
the horse will soon be ready the timber and the shot
Dear man move to the table the butter there just melt
The pra-tes are King Edwards and tighten up your belt
Tis hot and floury flavour the bacon salty rich
Some milk would be a cooling or you will have a stitch
Dear child come home from school now those shoes a wearing bare
You scholar and a brother of fiddle and of flare
Before you have your pra-tes put turf upon the light
Where's dear dear sister Nancy be home before the night
And Annie did you eat yet asked he a million times
Not yet the lady calls out but yet she never dines
The kettle purring steadily in black and iron cast
A crook a blackened lever and tea for all at last
Hurry up now dear dear Annie the night shift I must go
Some bread some bacon sandwich the night for money sow
The sound of carts a coming and following the man
Oats and horse a chopping the collars and the ham
Goodbye now Cook and ready now depart and bid fair due
My jacket wet and dripping, tonight and on the crew
Carts a pulling coal blast the horses strain and tear
A fire man's instruction and all are quite aware
Black sandwich square the dusty air take soda made with fruit
I hope one day I'll get away and always wear a suit
The night is done and Annie come to greet me on the mat
Without you dear I'd not be here my life my joy my cap
(1940s- West of Ireland)
Ian foley- for the :Middle Of The Road Contest
I dreamt that my uncle sat next to my father in a field.
They sat upon a concrete slab. I think a septic tank.
Their coats beside them and a guinness bottle in the uncle's hand. They had been
saving the hay.My uncle was also looking across the open road and could see a river
and he was wearing a no sleeved jumper. 'De jar vous' hit me in real life.
(I actually saw this complete scene thereafter including guiness bottle in reality).
Another time I dreamt I fell out of our bed and became sandwiched between the bed and
a wardrobe. I struggled with my elbows to raise myself up.Then, I suddenly had a torch in my
hand and shon it through the pitch black ahead. A torch in the distance switched itself on in mid
air and shon directly back into the light of my torch.-
(I then woke up ) !
I heard a story from my Mother who at 10 years of age was saving hay with her mother in 1941.(People in Ireland then lived far a part in terms of walking and all were farming).Both were alone in the huge expanse of the field forking hay. Then in the ditch a cry came out and
frightened my mother. A whaling type of cry she said. Banshee, who knows!
However, My grandmother clutched her close and immediately said to her 'John Flynn' has died and we better go up to me house. Grandmother knew well a distant od neighbour was ill and had been for days and may die. After a long trek through the fields to the house and after one or two hours a knock came to the door. Another neighbour called and said that indeed this man had died. She never said she got notice of this to the neighbour from the ditch and thanked the caller.
(How could such a thing be treated in such a matter of fact way by my grandmother)?
Ian Foley
Form:
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We waited quietly as the sirens calmed and quenched their searing drone.
The air raid shelter hushed in baited breath. One second more. Maybe the end is nigh.
All a quiet beneath an unseen sky. Maybe her child wont cry.
Maybe I wont every see those shower room white tiles staring back at me again.
Tiles arched over us. Over our laments and muffled cries.
Our house our street. Will it be there.
Or will it be there but emptied by scounderels a plenty.
Stay close child and use my heat. This ticket office door pushes drafts beneath it.
Drafts into my ears her ears. Woolen socks pulled up as high as they can allow.
One second more again the droning and I cover her ears my child don't listen.
Screaming Shrills and thuds again.Move away you bombs elsewhere.
To East ham or anywhere. And you you acursaid man. I do not know you.
I fear your motives.If only my fire tending husband could defend me now.
Go down the platform now sir.We are bedded here and intend to stay till bombs end.
This is our platform. Huddle close child the night is long and the platform grey and cold.
Later it ends.Too soon to move.The parrafin stove simmers a kindly brew.
God above tea at last.Tea has saved the night and brought the dawn raids end.
For I know this that a war will be won and won with tea and no credit shall tea be given.
The moving masses alight from their drab and coated stage. Queitly and slowly maybe
reluctantly ascending to the London sky.Delaying the vacant and unknown future.
London Tube station shelter in 1940- Ian Foley
SUBMITTED FOR YOUR APPROVAL.
TWILIGHT’S OWN
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HONORS OUR PRODUCTION STAFF.
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EXECUTIVE PRODUCER Marsha Brady
ASSISTANT PRODUCER Aethelstan Gwynn
EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT Fontana Arpeggio
ASSISTANT EXECUTIVE K. R. Patel
PRODUCTION DIRECTOR Sammy Rush
PRODUCTION ASSOCIATE Lemuel Orion
PRODUCTION ASSISTANT Dominic Tony
RECEPTIONIST Willow Divine
PERIMETER SECURITY Vojak Bojovnik
STABLE ELEMENT Cliff Toffler
INTERNAL DIALOGUE Lester Nemo
HEAD SPACE & TIMING Ashanti Washington
MEDIA TEMPLATES Mickey Li Chen
SET PIECES Abu Singh, the Elder
EURO ACCENTS Raj McIntosh
GRAND ILLUSIONS Trajan Bartoldi
CABIN PRESSURE Pierre Grossman
FINGER PUPPETS Symphony Tillis
BEST BOY Aramis Umay
PORTION CONTROL Slade Quackenbush
FOLEY ARTIST Ellen Foley
ACUPUNCTURE Anonymous Brown
SOUL DESIGN Penny Anybody
SOUL APPLICATION Bryn Dolby
SOUL INSPIRATION Veronica Chermak
ONLY ON EMPTYV!
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There was a great stillness in the air
and no sounds save a whispering sort of breeze
that spoke of something near, soon to be there
and silently urged all to bended knees
We spoke of a feeling of being called as others began to arrive
and as a brightening sky drew eyes skyward, we could see
a distant form, descending…….yes alive!
and though most of us remained in place, some began to flee
The sky, now churning as though a sea,
spread radiant shafts of iridescent light like arms spread wide
with a sound like a thousand bells rung in a celebratory harmony
that we not only heard but felt like joyous vibrations deep inside
The figure of a man now hung silently in mid-sky
We could see him gaze warmly from side to side upon the gathered crowd
as he spoke the words, “Rise and come to me my beloved, for it is I”,
in a clear voice that we all could hear, and yet it was not loud.
It was then that we saw what could only be described as a great ‘brightness’,
that quickly grew, not like the flash of a bright light,
but more like the dawn of a new day, that did not in the least frighten us
and revealed a place beyond anything we could have imagined or known by sight.
Steven L. Foley
06/03/12
A West Saxon King of Wessex and grace
He dealt with the Danes a convincing deface
Father of Navy and military blow
A legalised system the people should Know
Nation divided the Danes bowed to truce
Example in history for Robert the Bruce
Before this great stand 870 anon
He fought with the Danes 9 battles not one
Three elder of brothers fought till they died
Their wounds from the battle for Alfred did cry
During the wars in the marshes and mist
Alfred did hide and men did enlist
Athelney Marsh the bravest remained
A muiscal lyre for Danes he refrained
Marching and planning the lady of lakes
Thought and great planning he burnt all her cakes
Beaten by besom for burning the grate
She fell to her knees in humble prostrate
Stumbling on but lost on the Heath
Broach of gold lace that Alfred had sheathed
The Danes flag of battle broken and torn
A truce with old Guthrum eventually born
All is at rest for subjects now prove
Schooling begins and the hunger removes
His wife Ethelwulf with Nation at peace
Religion and taxes Westminister keeps
The Navy rebuilt and challenge at sea
Alfred for saint now rumoured by me
Ian Foley
-
James Foley a rebelious man within his clan
Lends a hand to his neighbour's eviction and land
Decided in a church yard chat of alarm
A process served on a man is evil and darned
Evicted from thatch is fearful in that there is no where to go
They band in the mist on a boheen grass strip await the post man's right hand
The process appears the postman he nears he waits then bowls near the crowd
He fronts the large gang of vagabond brand his letter is blocked y their stand
The post bag is ripped from shoulder and quiped you go and leave this place now
The contents ransacked and process burnt black not delivered for court or for hand
Constables came one hour remains a battering ram then deployed
All scurry on out in fear from a shout leave tears in their door way a jammed
Jail of six months in Limerick they shunt assizes demand of their mane
Their women folk fear the crops needed dear the neighbours gather around in a feat
A cheer and a fire admired by a shire propaganda and telegraph sent
Fair play to those wives revolution aside that church yard endeavoured to dream
My G/Grandfather's act i 1908
Form:
Don't cheat on me.
I am a jealous man.
Those words, I heard.
Did not understand.
Scared and confused.
In fear, I ran.
'Woman, why do you flee?', he asked softly.
This voice that spoke, it frightened me.
Was I crazy? Who knows?
My eyes were blind.
I could not see.
'Go away from me!', was all I screamed.
Hurt and afraid.
From him, I strayed.
Who was this man?
What did he want?
'Woman, open your eyes', he called to me.
'No!', I refused.
I do not know of what I'll see.
My children, I protect.
No harm will come.
Unsure what to say.
I turned him away.
Not far from my side.
He always would stay.
Tired and weak.
His voice, I now seek.
' I am still here', of this he assured.
Open your eyes and see.
A child of mine.
Thats what you all are.
It is I, you have heard.
Go forth.
Spread the word!
Happy and joyful.
His grace, I now see.
Loudly I proclaim,'it is he! It is he!'
Search for yourself.
Give it time, you shall see.
All that he wants, is for us to believe.
Theresa Lynn (Foley)
11-19-2009
Form: