Long Funk Poems

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


Premium Member Month End Madness

Panting, running, paying, fuming,
Bumping, swearing, hurrying, driving,
All because today is the thirty first
Of the month, why are we all nigh to burst!
Got to buy groceries, go the butcher
The dry cleaners, the florist, the baker,
Did i turn on the slow cooker?
Have guests coming at 8.00p.m still
On the road, home in 15 minutes – phone Will,
Darling, Did you collect the birthday cake,
There is a big accident, traffic hectic won’t make
It to pick it up – Yes sweetheart I have
Drive carefully the roads are crazy,
Looks like a storm brewing, weather drizzly and hazy.
As I arrive in our driveway it pours with rain,
And I drop a packet, which had the red wine, I stain
My clothes and the car seat, go have your shower,
Hubby says, relax, everything is under control, 
Turned shower taps to their full strength and power
Exhausted, let the water run over my naked body
Till I feel refreshed, get dressed in my 
Sexy black number,
And come downstairs, hubby gives me a wolf whistle,
Just wait till the guests leave he says, look at him 
From under my lashes!
The aroma wafting from the stove is 
Provocatively divine!
And next to the sofa is a glass of room 
Temperature red wine.
Table is set, arrange flowers I brought in a vase,
Immediately, the bell goes ding dong, 
It’s Cherry and Tim,
She couldn’t wait to show me her engagement ring,
Hot on their heels are Susan and Barry,
He has just asked Susan to him marry,
And last of all my twin sister Rina, arrives she’s wise,
With her new boyfriend in tow she bellows, Hi guys!
Fun was had and wine was drunk 
Laughter abounded in the lounge and dining room,
We all forgot how tired we were and 
It was end of the month, and all the media forecasted,
Was doom and gloom!
It was my birthday, turning forty, no turning back now,
Don’t regret a day of my life, bless the day I took my vow,
Happy birthday dear Mary, happy Birthday to you,
I felt blest had my hubby and sister present and select 
Friends but few,
Mellow and happy and with certainly no one drunk,
Just four happy couples full of zest and funk!
Our guests began departing, in twos they left,
I slipped of my shoes and gave a big yawn,
Will picked me up, and must have undressed
Me – for all I remember is waking up to a peck
On my cheek,
And a scrumptious breakfast in bed,
I always knew I had picked the right guy to wed!
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member MILES AND POLLOCK

The smoky clubs of thought/ where shadows dance and poets talk of truth whispered low/man, a story without end/ can you dig it, my friend/ improvisation’s the key, always unlocked in time, a jazz riff echoing truth in research of a  paradigm/
assumptions about the nature of reality in jazz talk, scales, and harmonies, the framework we embrace/is not life the same? like established knowledge, but thinking out of frame, lighting up the space, to build on a jazz note we create, we innovate, say, give the funky drummer some/
 just like Miles on his horn, exploring what's in the score, man, the vibing brain, a hipster’s thought, where networks of creativity ignite, and a conscious soul control breaks through/
The mind unfurls its thinking wings, a melody takes flight in a jazzed-up symphony of science, burning ever so tight/
a rock steady beat, the rhythm deepens, but the jazz spills over, it paints a wider scene, Pollock's action strokes, vibrant, raw, and jazzy, mean/
Oh, but the freedom in his canvas, a rhythm in his hand like McCoy Tyner’s dancing on the keys/
 improvisation's spirit, always in jazz and graffiti wall art on subway trains sprayed across the Bronx highlands/Miles himself, he painted too, abstract hues so bold, from horn to brush he journeyed, a creative, restless soul/ life jazz influence profound, taking its hammering toll on his body and soul/
man, the tempo picks up, into the evolution of funk more emphatic, much more in the pocket of  James Brown/ ya dig? exploration, a pattern found, a quantum leap into the unknown jazz heap of sounds/ like a jazz horn solo taking a giant step into the ubiquity of a jazz riff, a seed that has been sown across the river of stars/
 In science and music, the spirit intertwined/a quest for understanding, etched upon a circle of fifths/ and the universal wind cries Mary, a jazz solo vast like a Jimi Hendrix acid jazz blast/
 repeating rhythms echo across jazz music and cosmology/ in spoken word harmonies with in and out thinking with room for improvisation,  improvise your life, and breathe it in/  get hip to the rhythm in your soul/ let it flow, man/
Let the jazz of physics make you brilliantly whole/gung-bow-chi, chi, gung-bow/ drums as the backbone to the funk thing/ It’s a strong emotional and spiritual bond into Life, and the physics of the Jazz sound
© Tony Adamo  Create an image from this poem.

How It Went Down

A decade of growth and decadent boom 
People didn't mention the debt elephant in the room
It was the charge of the bull
Many pockets were full
The search for a higher return was the motivational pull. 

But whilst stocks and shares rocked and flared
Investors held their breath in shock and fear
They seemed to forget that markets go up and markets go down
Because as long as uncertainty shows up, the cycle goes round

But to be fair the times were good, and returns seemed sure
The earnings of many corporations, continued to soar
The zeitgeist was the age of prosperity, profit and greed
It wasn't the time to question sustainability or question the need

Many financial advisers advised that it was the right way to go
"You should take advantage now, while all these rates of interest are low"
So many consumers took out mortgages, that they just couldn't afford
Including the 'sub prime', with bad credit, and of course the poor

But let's not forget, that the consumer went along, and played ball
Creatures of habit responding to the mating call, that beckoned us all
Deposits levels came down, loan-to-value went up
House prices bubbled and brimmed and we all drank from the cup.

Now the banks merged all of these mortgages together in lumps
Sold them as safe bets to investors, who were taken for chumps
Then the US housing market crashed
Now comes the the consequences
Unsurprisingly mortgage repayments started to slump

So called safe investments soon became worthless as junk
Families who had homes repossessed now facing the funk
Securitisation of mortgages now seemed so dumb
Regulators appeared powerless, dozing and numb

Lehman Brothers collapsed. America sneezed
The world became infected. Financial markets siezed
Governments and Central Banks now stepped into the fray
To prop up a system, that should have been reconfigured that day

Many banks were bailed; too big to fail. 
The bankers who were at the wheel, too big to jail.
The humble tax payer was forced to post the cash
And many years later many banks still owe this cash

So the world was saved but here's the 'but'
The pubic purse was utilised, to escape the rut 
Now all society must pay the price; take a hit to the gut
And suffer the pain, of historic public services cuts. 

Mike Concise © 2015
www.mikeconcise.com
Form: Couplet

Is Ashwin the Indian Don of Spin

Where do you begin with Ravichandran Ashwin...intellectual impresario

Red ball romeo... conceptual maestro..the Kingpin of spin..leather lothario

Perpetual taunting...teasing..bubbling cerebral cauldron formenting..haunting

Troubling.. flaunting...tormenting..vaunting..fermenting..pleasing

Luminosity...but another one of the band of badger brothers

Reeks of unique chic tweak at its peak

Bare faced cheek of genius geek cavorting

Discerning pastor preaching while yearning for learning 

More about turning…..curiosity pique...sleek sporting freak

Mythical master of disaster..have many if any been reaching 500 wickets faster

Viral spirals about this sage despite his age still taking centre stage

Batters like budgies trapped in a gilded cage

As though he had planned to grandstand the Ravinchand bandstand brand...stealing the back page

Revolution masquerading as evolution...cogitating...searching for a solution

Ruminating..problems to fix with his swag bag of tricks..spinning absolution

Precision physician with constant revision...each edition

A new rendition.. high jinks with winks.. and nods to tradition

Wondering...that furrowed brow..pondering how

Career of seams caressed with finger finesse ... architect..engineer without peer…

Can't debunk the magic funk…just respect from a Test tragic monk

Scientist enthrall..sorcerer gall...still one of us...the best of us all.

So hold your head high Ravichandran..still don't know why you were so often the fall guy

Fans vicarious view..our meme..you part of our team...daring to dream..your art of derring do

Iconic booty of noble probes…lush lullabies...strobes lapping global lobes

Sagacious..loquacious oratory...the tonic...fruity frolic

Fresh from laboratory duty..bodacious bucolic beauty

Even naysayers can't deny they relish that conjuring charm from your cherished right arm.

Let's zoom to the elephant in the room...is Ashwin the don of Indian spin

With the skill and will to top the bill and still pip Anil?

Kumble also a defiant giant on whom they were so reliant

Hot to trot just not as savvy as Ravi

The Don's got the lot..takes number one spot

Wealth of stealth...doyen among men..but never ever about himself

He loves cricket just for the cricket itself..zen then..
Form: Rhyme

America, Made of Awesome, Part Ii

Freedom foremost, and the will to fight
to keep and protect our natural rights.
Nightclubs, jello shots, disco balls
mechanical bulls, beers cold and tall!
Baseball, football, and basketball games,
crazy rodeo riders on horses untamed.
Books by the millions, more than can be read,
and knowing anything can be by anyone said.
Burgers on buns, potato and tortilla chips,
yeah, those are American, born in Texas!
Satirical cartoons, radio and TV,
the magic that was Hollywood, as it used to be.
Ragtime, Bee-bop, Rockabilly, and Jazz
Swing, R & B, movie soundtracks, and Bluegrass.
The warm blanket of country when feeling cold,
the power and fury of rock and roll.
The grind of hip-hop and of rap…
on second thought, we apologize for that.
But funk gets things all out of control,
and who can say no to harmonious soul?
Stream locomotives, tracks narrow and wide,
flying machines that soar through the sky.
The glorious art that is the western,
and old Las Vegas, the moral tester.
The miracle of southern barbeque,
the burn of moonshine, or Mountain Dew.
Soft ice crew and greasy-fast French fries,
the expectation that politicians lie.
Liberty in law deeply enshrined,
muscle cars driving of the right side.
Suburbs, cabins, farms and guns,
and every legally available type of fun.
Forests, combines, and big chain-saws,
as well as full equality before the law.
A vast landscape, awesome to see,
an undying faith in our families.
Art from great down to lackluster,
recalls, vetos, and filibusters!
Checks and balances on the powerful,
we invented the internet, so things are never dull!
Mountain bikes and rollers blades,
fried chicken and biscuits, porterhouse steak.
Diners, dairy bars and fast food,
we walked on the friggin’ moon,
and built the only probes that escaped
into the void of interstellar space.

I could go on, I am tempted to,
but I think I’ve made my point to you,
And when young fool have yelled there fill,
reject their nonsense talk of “guilt.”
All nations have screwed up, it’s so
but perfection is something man never knows.
This nation still tires to confront is sins,
and brings forth profusions of great things.
The scales upon which we are weighed,
are ever clear in what they say:
When it all is said and done,
America is made of awesome.
Form: Rhyme


Economic Equilibrium

Once on the vast placid sea,
Was a bucket whisked 'long currents so free.
   He was as a boat
   And he ever did float,
Unknown to Care, Worry or Hurry.

But one day, there came a new wind,
'Long a new way the bucket was sent,
   Oh, this path unfamiliar
   And its tests to endure,
What will this expirement rend?

Not long had he set his new course
Came a wave of such prodigal force,
   He was born on the crest
   And he did fare the best,
Though filled up with some water, he had this recourse:

Since it's along water I fare,
Well then, I really can't care,
   If water makes me sink
   I will take my last drink...
To leave it to Choice, I dare.

He heard the dolphin's chit-chattering chide,
Felt the surging insurrection of successive tide,
   Though he was alone,
   There soon fell a stone
From the depths of the cirrus-strewn sky.

So lower in the water he sunk,
His next gulp of water was drunk,
   The victim of Whim
   filled two-thirds to the brim
With no way to get out of this funk.

Now, inside the bucket did dwell
Countless people, no number could tell
   And so, they did choose
   Everything to lose-
They toppled the bucket, he plummeted towards Hell.

"I sit on the ocean's sand floor
Bereft of my purpose forevermore;
    I shan't again be
   Upon the sea free-
The whole ocean this vessle wll store."

Until I set out on my ship
And found me a spot, for to take a dip.
   Who woulda' thunk it,
   But I found that old bucket
And took him along on my trip!

The bucket was filled up with woe,
"How is it that water's my foe?
   Was I, then, not meant
   On this quest to be sent?
An answer, I wish I could know."

Not long had he sat on the deck
That the water had gone 'bout the length of my neck,
   He was surprised about
   How fast he dried out
And found that his value was not at all wrecked.

"I was not meant for the sea,
It is too much water for me.
   I know my purpose
   And I shall not fuss
When I can but meet my duty."

When we arrived back in the port,
I found him a new job of sorts:
   I hung him in a well
   And his joy he couldn't tell
That his too-great ambition, he chose to abort.

The globe is of unfathomable size,
It will not be tamed, we must realize;
   Let all of it stand
   And keep close both your hands,
But lend them to others when nears their demise.
Form:

Georgy Buys a Car

GEORGY BUYS A CAR

                         A man named Georgie had a few--
                         Pintsy, wintysy , God Almintsy little pints

                         In the pub perched slick heart Zack--
                         Scammer, hammer, oh what glamour little scam

                         Zack bought Georgie round of drinks--
                         Hooker, crooker, throw the book sir , little hook

                          Georgie said a car he’d buy--
                          Rider, slider, swim the tide Sir,  little ride

                          Zack said “ I got just the ride”--
                          Squeezer , pleaser, shake the knees Sir, little squeeze

                          Out the door and to the lot--
                          Parking, sharking-- not for sparking little park

                          Georgie drove the car for test--
                          Faster, blaster, kick the bastard, little fast

                          Bought the car right on the spot--
                          Casher, flasher, grab the masher, little cash 
                
                          Georgie got the sales receipt-- 
                          Cheater, bleater, Shakespeare’s theatre, little cheat

                          Zack pulled out a calling card--
                          Teaser, pleaser, Wine and cheese sir? little tease 

                          And with this card came Friday wash--
                          Freebie, sleebie, heebee geebies little free

                          Car wash was a thief run scam--
                          Scamzee , tamzee,  oops and whamzee little scam 

                          Georgie used his Friday ticket--
                          Washy sloshy, Dryzy wyzy now goodbzy little car

                          Zack is smiling-- Georgie’s not--
                          Smilin', dialin' so beguilin, scammer’s smile

                                     Learn from Georgie’s little lesson--
                                     Lesson, stressin, keep you guessin’, little lesson
                                     Don’t buy cars when you are drunk--
                                     Sunk, punk,  in a funk, hide in trunk while you are drunk.


©Victoria Anderson-Throop  
12/13/12

Premium Member DJ PunTable

The bridge/ Hear that?/ Snap it pop it / Not the one of stone and steel, holding cars and trains  aloft/ This bridge hums/ It vibrates/ yellin’, mo’ funk and groove please woven into the boss horns strung with a bassline thick as smoke and Clyde Stubblefield holding down the fat beat/
 Acid Jazz snap pop snap de beat/  tradition on one side, diggin’ for the now, for the new/ Jazz, ancient and revered, but dust collecting on the shelf, needed a spark, a jolt, a psychedelic brother a sister like no other/ Acid Jazz, the answer/
 A handshake and a high five between jazz straight ahead and a synthesizer’s jazz fusion swing/
   A knowing nod to Coltrane remixed into becoming the nu  Acid Jazz king/Trane is way dope  now to a whole new listening audience/
 
 skillfully crafted club bangin’ acid jazz lick and samples/ the veins of hip-hop, throbbing hard and raw as DJs scratched the beats deeply rooted in the arrangements of funk jazz numerology/
 Did deep house feel its pulse, its rhythmic pull/ Broken beat, fractured and funky, did it recognize its kin, polyrhymatics and the turntables… Oh, the turntables sang a different song/ a revolution spun on vinyl, a rebellion built on rhythm, Jazz and Soul/ Rap, HipHop and acid jazz as a Voice for Rebellion and Social Change / DJ Kool Herc, a sonic architect, laying foundations in the park and party basements/ Grandmaster Flash, a surgeon of sound, slicing and dicing the beat/ Afrika Bambaataa, a global sound system, uniting tribes with groove/
 yo bruh, reality check/ They weren’t just playing records, they were playing the instrument/Scratching, back spinning, beat juggling – a symphony of skill/ Mix masters, beat captains,  electronic alchemists, wizards behind the wheel of Hip Hop fortune/ They birthed a new language, a dialect of dance, a history rewritten in the hiss and crackle of vinyl on a HiFi Stereo/ Acid Jazz… Modern Jazz… Trip hop, Latin Tech House/ The DJ Culture… Rap, Hip-Hop, a family born from a shared rebellion, Formidable, Definitive/ Each is a testament to the power of sound, to the bridge built on a bassline, drum sample/
 a thump, a bump  on a low rider jam/ to the future forged in the fire of the beat/ The voyage is not over/ I have a fear of standing still…like I’m outta of here/
© Tony Adamo  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Spoken Word Poetry: A Groove Through Time

Spoken Word Poetry: A Groove Through Time
 Man, you’re just a real gone cat/breaking the habit and diggin’  something new/
 Your world spins fast with the beat/ your music collection—a limited edition on the Acid Side of the Jazzy beat/
a gold standard Acid jazz kaleidoscope of sound/
 Acid Jazz LPs dance like shadows in the street/ so you are hip to Acid Jazz, a genre born in the night, Funk, soul, and hop intertwined/
 a rhythm that pulses and ignites, elements of funk, soul, and hip-hop, as well as disco, started in London’s clubs/
 it began to unwind with drugs sex, and the deep beat of percussion that flows from the spin tables and the DJ mix into subcultures, including rave, acid house, and jungle that flooded the superclubs like the river’s current, 
 Man, it was a nu British sound that had its own records shops, and music producers/
 live performance, an electric embrace, a tapestry woven with the threads of the past, an anthem for a nu sound/
 ain’t it cool, man, to swing and sway? Acid cool, with words that play, each note a story, every beat a fight, against the social and political realities of the day/
 from the UK to the States in the ‘90s/
 broken beats, deep funk, a hip new sound, born in clubs/ a deep history  resurrected/
 Hip hop producers diving deep in the trunk of 
 old town bump de bump funk/
  Electric Rhodes, guitars that gleam, Jazz-funk—triple threat, the dream, steppin’ out to that new Acid Jazz sound, Brand New Heavies, where vibes abound. James Taylor Quartet, Jazz Hole, Jamiroquai, spinning out of control all deep into the show/
 Eddie Piller, the architect, of Acid Jazz Records—music to reflect/
 Disc jockeys, producers, crafting the groove, adding percussion, making the old move, sampling the past with a sleazy intent, Old Skool mentality, a love that won’t relent/
 Lofi vibes ride the waves of the scene, A boost of spoken word slam jazz, a dream within a dream/
 So dig on brother and let the music wrap you, let it break your square mold/
 In this young history of  Acid Jazz, let the stories be told/ step into the rhythm, and let your dancin’ feet fly/
 In this world of sound, we’ll never say goodbye, for there is always someone to meet on this Acid Jazz ride/
© Tony Adamo  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member That Which Makes Me Smile

From a reddish horrifying gloomy cloud which brings upon a frowning
beast~  I shall overcome and finally a smile shall bring me peace—poet :)

                 Smiles are weapons against pain
                 Armor protection for depression or hate
                 Diffusers for an opponent’s attack
                 Antidotes of dopamine and cortisol
                 Smiling eyes are the windows to the soul
                 some say, yet smiles can be deceiving
                 A player uses his charm that sweeps you away
                 An enemies leer stirs unspoken innuendos,
                 mouth is smiling yet dead eyes defy 
                 A ghoulish grin denies it's upside-down smile,
                 scornful cinnabar smears, spanning ‘cross the lips 
                 from cheek-to-cheek as fingers paint 
                 when tears deny a petulant pout
                 ‘Tis what makes me frown 
                 What makes me smile can be admired in;
                 Arts colorful paintings, ancient and new 
                 Fashion Design, Egyptian hieroglyphics 
                 Poetry, witty with a bit of whimsy
                 humorous Limericks with mindful tricks
                 Animals and a child's innocence 
                 a baby’s giggle, a kitten’s purr,
                 a puppy’s warmth, a bird’s chirp 
                 Musicals songs, Movies Rom-coms  
                 Theatre recites, the Opera excites
                 Dances that mash up with Western music, high energy
                 fusion of styles global, multifaceted technique
                 Bolly-Hop, Disco-Funk, Tap! Is sheik 
                 Music's nostalgia, classical is golden
                 Nature's moonshine, sunshine, a stolen starry night 
                 Red bourbon rosette, blue violet, fragrance flowers                           
                 From land to Ocean, to the crystalline sapphire sea
                 Food and drink, Antipasto, mint Iced Tea, 
                 Tapas and Sangria, Hors d’oeuvres and cognac 
                 Finally and most of all what makes me smile?
                 Love of life, so free-spirited, it gives love back
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

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