Long Frey Poems
Long Frey Poems. Below are the most popular long Frey by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frey poems by poem length and keyword.
BIG HANDS DON
I s’pose I’ve been a cowboy since I was just a ‘teen
But I was herd’n bad guys, see I cowboy’d for the queen
I rode with lots of partners up and down the asphalt trail
Those that cut the corners and those that wouldn’t fail
Some were rough and ready and a few just down right tricky
One sticks in my memories, he’s Big Hands Don Molicki
Now Big Hands wore a smile that surely was no bluff
It didn’t seem to phase him when customers got rough
His presence was imposing, a draft horse in the stable
When muscle was required Big Hands was more than able
He was who ya wanted to back ya in the bar
Or wrestling ornery critters into a police car
But after all the action of solving crime and caper
We’d head back to the office and put it down on paper
Well this is where the smile just melted off his face
His hands were hardly suited for a secretary’s place
Fat fingers on the keyboard, the letters surely flew
But when he’d aim for W he’d hit E S and Q
One late night as he toiled to fix his shift report
The waste pail full beside him with pages he’d abort
His mighty fist then crashed down hard upon the keys
And he cursed so that we knew this wern’t no time to tease
The rest of us were busy putt’n guns and cuffs away
When one went over to him and entered in the frey
He thought his gun unloaded when he aimed at that machine
And said “I’ll solve your troubles” then pulled the trigger clean
We stood there in a dither when we heard that pistol bark
While the bullet pierced the heart of the exclamation mark
When eardrums quit their ringing and smoke commenced to clear
Our minds turned to excuses for the questions sure to hear
When mounties fire their side arms, reports they have to make
We figured this was one we’d probably have to fake
But every new rendition of the lie that we would give
Seemed just about a shaky and water in a sieve
It finally was decided in the middle of the night
We’d call the Sarge and fess-up, not a pretty sight
With courage fully mustered, the Sergeant home in bed
Was told the gruesome details, he asked “ya think it’s dead!!”
The month or so that followed slipped by without no gripin’
Big Hands did all our bull work, we did all his typin’
It's been almost ten years to December 2002 since Laci Rocha-Peterson and her unborn son were killed by her loser husband, Scott Peterson. This case has haunted the lives of all of the citizens of a California town called Modesto; just outside of San Francisco. It seems that Laci's life was ended permanently too soon, especially when she had planned on giving birth to Scott's first born son, Connor. Both of her parents (her mom and step-dad) were angry, her brother was also angry and dismayed, the people were shocked and disgusted, and so on. Scott Peterson was afraid to be a father, that he never wanted to spend the rest of his so-called "life" with his late wife, and, on top of all that, Mr. Peterson was also afraid that his late wife, Laci, would find about his love affair with another woman named Amber Frey, so he killed her as a cowardly act. Laci Rocha-Peterson and her first born son really didn't deserve to die by the hands of her own husband, their own flesh and blood. She and her son had a whole life ahead of them, especially when her son, Connor, was about to begin the first day of school and stuff. But now that baby Connor and her mother are not on planet Earth and in heaven now, their family members, especially her parents and his grandparents, are still in a depressive mode. What kind of human being would want to dump his or her spouse in a body of water, let alone the San Francisco Bay? Who does that? The media, including the CBS Network, Nancy Grace, and the San Francisco Post were all over the Laci Peterson case, especially when everybody knew that Scott Peterson Selfishly killed his own wife and unborn son. What a coward he is and/or was. Scott may have had all of the ones he loved fooled, but when he walks into the death chamber and is executed by lethal injection, God will decide his punishment. And when He does, Scott Peterson will pay for what he did to his wife and own son, his own flesh and blood. The spirits of Laci Rocha-Peterson and her son will live on in their relatives' lives and through the hearts of the ones who knew her. May she and her son rest in peace.
18 Stoic Faces
- by Bob Atkinson
eighteen stoic faces
faced four who had come
to read the erudite refrains
of poets both dead and gone
readings were in earnest spoken
for respect for some who had
garnered from the establishment
accolades, awards, well sanctioned
yes, eighteen stoic faces
faced four who read so good
those meaningless diatribes
of useless linguistic words
significance became not evident
for similes provided here
metaphors vaguely crafted caused
me not them to revere
this didn't change my attitude
my demeanor didn't rise
waiting for an end to it
was my only real desire
so I couldn't clap and whistle
and be smiling in my face
that would not have been sincere
became just a little bit ashamed
whistle I didn't do at all
felt not much real emotion
gave a polite nod to those speaking
headed quickly out the door
save me from disjointed thoughts
can't those people see the truth
senseless disorganization
does not good poetry produce
of those thoughts not poetry
I firmly do believe
the fireplace requires cellulose
for bright flames to feed
listless words written poorly
carried my imagination not
was frozen in my dreamy state
rusted any worthwhile thoughts
next week went to Vegas
to see the eagle band
and watch as pure emotion
rocked that audience grand
ten thousand had paid apiece
a couple hundred bucks
to see those wordly masters
like Henley, Frey and such
they told of the situation
which emotion played upon
a woman's real life choices
why she'd become despondent
ten thousand cheered upon
recognition of great words
displayed while coddled with sounds
soft guitars and drums beat purrs
I thought "now here lies real poetry"
not those prissy kind of words
that speak only of the unimportant
with wispy mindless verbs
some lock credentials grand
for that which moves us not
and laugh at the suggestion
that song is our greatest art
me, I have a vision
that we shall all enjoy
songs we've grown up with
as emotional literal tomes
Listen Sister HEARING this makes you WONDER…
I am a PHOTOGRAPHER and I can be a RAPPER...
And If I would; I could play in MANCHESTER…
All I wanted with HER, was to be her, BROTHER…
All I wanted was to take him to a MOTHER…
I can be a BROTHER, and without playing HER, I can be FATHER….
AND I can MAKE my baby in a MOTHER…
NOW may be a train have played your brain…
THIS can makes you CRY also can make you FLY…
To FEEL SORRY to Relieve Some PAIN…
It’s all about playing the brain.. it ALL started in a TRAIN.. when a psychologist told me you are INSANE…
AND I was CURIOUS to know why he was SO FURIOUS..
I had a tobacco I DIDN'T’T say ‘’MAKO’…
Despite I was high that GUY made CRY…
I LATTERLY told him I’m here in GERMANY and I’M not AN ENEMY... ’
I CAME to Europe LEGALLY…
I’m PHOTOGRAPHER and I can be RAPPER…
If you want I can take you to a MOTHER…
despite I was high that guy made CRY…
IT WAS NEVER TOO LATE RUN THE MIXTAPE…
HOW come a PHOTOGRAPHER TRIGGER ANGER and make somebody SAY TODAY I’m a STRONGER…
HOW come a PHOTOGRAPHER trigger ANGER… and tell somebody what doesn't’t kill you make you STRONGER…
he thought I was a FREY..
he told me today I fight my WAY…
every body is smart in his own WAY…
and If YOU think I’m PERFECT,, I can SAY I’m a PROPHET…
THANK YOU for BEING elegant WAKING UP the inelegant may be I’m a bit ARROGANT…
But that’s Okay because one Day I’ll get on a PLANE and will SORRY for PLAYING your daughter BRAIN…
HER BROTHER will come laughing ALL THE WAY… telling us how beautiful she was THAT DAY….
TOGETHER SISTER they will FLY AWAY…
I used to tell people wake up and then at one point when all I could say is that I’m messed up…
I SPEAK what I FEEL and If I want I kill I can’t do IT for REAL,,,
I’m TUNISIAN, AFRICAN, ARAB, BERBER, AND I truly DO CARE…
I SMOKE weed it is not a SIN,, it is JUST a MEDICINE…
The Queen Of Emeralds.
Thy mothers name is victoria! So full of strength and love!
Thy mothers voice is that of a songbird, spirit is of queen of storms.
Thy mothers net is one of safety, not just for me and my siblings, however strong enough for all children of the sea.
Thy mothers passion is of furious pain that paints the sky red of dawn's light to twilight dusk!
Thy mothers tears nature and bring forth growth from the frey!!!
Thy mothers love is of nurturement, tiss has the ability to heal even the most detested wounds.
Thy mother can fly with the wrights and right almost any wrong!
Thy mother has predilections of a tigress! Not one of you may touch us or hurt us without the strike of her hammer!
Thy mothers breath is warm as a hearth and her heart furious like a valkyrie!
Thy mother can turn women into men and men into children and back again!
Thy mothers beauty is as the fountain of youth and never stops giving even when drained dry!
Thy mothers heart is her children that to which i am first of eight!
Thy mothers strength is our unity, my siblings and I, we are her song of storms.
My mothers legacy is us and we are each one of her. Don't mess with us, we can breathe nightmares, not just dreams.
Thy mothers reflections are we, and are her, she is me and i am one of many together we are rain amongst her lightning.
Thy love is for thy mother and my brothers and sister! Happy mothers day mom! Your breath ,your strength, your everything is ours and we are yours, we make legions from your womb.
Thank you mama from our hearts to yours, for air we breathe, for earth we walk, for fire in our hearts, for water you nurtured us with, and for being able to be one with you no matter where we are, we are legions we are one!
~Benjamin luke Aguas
The Queen Of Emeralds.
Thy mothers name is victoria! So full of strength and love!
Thy mothers voice is that of a songbird, spirit is of queen of storms.
Thy mothers net is one of safety, not just for me and my siblings, however strong enough for all children of the sea.
Thy mothers passion is of furious pain that paints the sky red of dawn's light to twilight dusk!
Thy mothers tears nature and bring forth growth from the frey!!!
Thy mothers love is of nurturement, tiss has the ability to heal even the most detested wounds.
Thy mother can fly with the wrights and right almost any wrong!
Thy mother has predilections of a tigress! Not one of you may touch us or hurt us without the strike of her hammer!
Thy mothers breath is warm as a hearth and her heart furious like a valkyrie!
Thy mother can turn women into men and men into children and back again!
Thy mothers beauty is as the fountain of youth and never stops giving even when drained dry!
Thy mothers heart is her children that to which i am first of eight!
Thy mothers strength is our unity, my siblings and I, we are her song of storms.
My mothers legacy is us and we are each one of her. Don't mess with us, we can breathe nightmares, not just dreams.
Thy mothers reflections are we, and are her, she is me and i am one of many together we are rain amongst her lightning.
Thy love is for thy mother and my brothers and sister! Happy mothers day mom! Your breath ,your strength, your everything is ours and we are yours, we make legions from your womb.
Thank you mama from our hearts to yours, for air we breathe, for earth we walk, for fire in our hearts, for water you nurtured us with, and for being able to be one with you no matter where we are, we are legions we are one!
~Benjamin luke Aguas
The Queen Of Emeralds.
Thy mothers name is victoria! So full of strength and love!
Thy mothers voice is that of a songbird, spirit is of queen of storms.
Thy mothers net is one of safety, not just for me and my siblings, however strong enough for all children of the sea.
Thy mothers passion is of furious pain that paints the sky red of dawn's light to twilight dusk!
Thy mothers tears nature and bring forth growth from the frey!!!
Thy mothers love is of nurturement, tiss has the ability to heal even the most detested wounds.
Thy mother can fly with the wrights and right almost any wrong!
Thy mother has predilections of a tigress! Not one of you may touch us or hurt us without the strike of her hammer!
Thy mothers breath is warm as a hearth and her heart furious like a valkyrie!
Thy mother can turn women into men and men into children and back again!
Thy mothers beauty is as the fountain of youth and never stops giving even when drained dry!
Thy mothers heart is her children that to which i am first of eight!
Thy mothers strength is our unity, my siblings and I, we are her song of storms.
My mothers legacy is us and we are each one of her. Don't mess with us, we can breathe nightmares, not just dreams.
Thy mothers reflections are we, and are her, she is me and i am one of many together we are rain amongst her lightning.
Thy love is for thy mother and my brothers and sister! Happy mothers day mom! Your breath ,your strength, your everything is ours and we are yours, we make legions from your womb.
Thank you mama from our hearts to yours, for air we breathe, for earth we walk, for fire in our hearts, for water you nurtured us with, and for being able to be one with you no matter where we are, we are legions we are one!
~Benjamin luke Aguas
Oh No! Oh No! What has my son done? I hope it’s, not already to late!
He lives at a fraternity house, and surely, you know THAT intense mental state.
March has St. Patrick’s Day, Spring Break, and has, of course, Easter in it, too.
So they decided to have some great fun, yes, a fun filled month to happily ensue.
They invited a Leprechaun, the Easter Bunny, and the king of bongos, a gnome.
Apparently they convinced everyone it’d be more fun, to Simply… Stay… Home.
The whole campus flooded thru that fraternity house, in the party’s that ensued.
And they convinced the Easter Bunny to do jello shots in every color and hue.
He became known as THE BUN, yes, The One who finally, truly could fly…
And the Leprechaun danced till he dropped… to a great bongo serenade, aye.
There was no SIMPLY about this! As the music rocked the frat house, next door.
And girls were seen coming and going, at all hours, even passed out on the floor.
This was the party no one missed… even the frat house with the snobs, were there.
It’s said even some of the President’s security attended, partying there, somewhere.
Before they were done, a plan was sown, as the gnome found it’s yearly, new home.
Yes, it got there, in Washington somehow, on the top of the Real ‘White House’ Dome.
But along the way THE BUN was lost… some where along the never-ending roads.
The Leprechaun called me, our Dragons and Trolls, to help, to search the highroads.
The poor little guy was so pie eyed, when we found him along that crazy way, so…
We fixed him up, we didn’t give up, until we could send him, into that Easter Frey.
Merciless King
Beckoned by your hearts, endangered are your lives by the deranged.
Unto the frey i am thrown, upon my heart your mournful cry sewn.
With valor I berzerk valiant within my vitality.
Repugnant are the actions of your enemies, from my mouth I cry out my anthem!
From too unto fro, I outlast thy enemy that witch is yours.
They are them and their legends are fiends to me, I loathe their existence.
With thunderous footsteps my demeanor becomes meritorious, as I seize frozen are their veins.
As I endure the damage that is unjustly cut into me, I yearn yet for your love.
One by one you watch in gut-retching fear as I eviscerate all inquisitors.
As they come forth as legions I feel your heart start to burst into fire with your own desire.
With my stamina depleted and with half their legions defeated I fell deep to my knees awaiting the final blow.
With the valorous cry she let out the cry of the one hundred valkyries!
Like a lioness she charges in, no one messes with my man!
Forward she presses our enemies, she has just become the empress of my heart.
As she strikes the final blow to the fow fiend of my desperado, she gives rise to the true king in the nature of love.
Arisen to my feet I set forth my fortitude for her wings of grace, for together under unity shall we both be saved.
By her own still beating chest, may my heart still be reclaimed.
All for one or all for none, amen.
~ Benjamin Luke Aguas
Sailing in their long ships with a dragon head on the bow
Vikings were a hardy people from a land of ice and snow
Known for their adventures far wide and across many seas
Bringing culture and beliefs, sailing from 950-1050 A.D.
Traders who settled, leaving their Danish homeland
Looking for a heaven found by the name of Vineland
In their Gods was a strong belief, by Odin they were lead
Blazing by the virtues of nine in their stead
TRUTH was a belief held in high regard, from deep within
In the sense of honesty- essential for kith and kin
Ruled by HONOR- morality more than reputation
Without regret these Vikings lived, no hesitation
Following in the ways of Frey, FIDELITY to the Gods
To their family and clan, they lived without facade
DISCIPLINE is the action to all beliefs they held fast
Personal will - their conquests to lands unsurpassed
The civilization practiced HOSPITALITY to unselfish ends
Never knew when on a cold night, one might need friends
INDUSTRIOUSNESS made the Vikings active with vitality
Living each day to it's fullest, abundant morality
The clan could not survive without SELF RELIANCE
To do for one, is to do for all- tribe alliance
COURAGE and bravery to face life's struggles and PERSEVERE
Foraging upon strange lands and taming the new frontier.
Won 3rd place in the "Broad Horizons" contest by Deborah Guzzi
The Nine Noble Virtues of the Vikings.
A. Green