Long Gemma Poems
Long Gemma Poems. Below are the most popular long Gemma by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gemma poems by poem length and keyword.
Bello (hello)let me tell you about some Minions
Brightly covered single-cell organisms
Small yellow cylindrical creatures
With one eye and sometimes two
Not sure why . . .
Minions love to wear dungarees and goggles
Not sure why . . .
They live to serve, all they need is a leader
Their language is gibberish-fueled insanity
Like, we love you (tutaliloo ti amo)
Now there is this a group of Minions despicable
Minions of Anarchy . . .
A motorcycle gang of Minions
Roaring around on two wheels, zoooom
The leader is Clay, ugly (bananoninal!)
A one eye-master of destruction
His wife Gemma, la femme fatale
There is always a handsome hero
And his name is Jax, a blonde, one eyed Minion
Obviously quite insane and mentally disturbed
His wife, Tara, hate her (tatata-dala-tu)
And the other members of the group
Juice, Tigs, Opie, Kozit, Chibs, and Bobby
This despicable group are bad to the bone
Oh, not sure if Minions have bones . . .
Anyways, havoc and destruction follow them
But, I love (tutaliloo ti amo) their story, sorry (bi do)
what(po-ta !) you say of these bad boys
Oh, such depression and joy and family ties
Nothing is more important to them than family
Kiss, kiss, kiss (muak, muak, muak)
This is but one group of Minions
Like all who dwell in the world, there are many groups
Some good, some bad, and some just silly
Thank you (tank you)
Goodbye (poopayel)
Cheers (kanpal)
__________________________
February 19, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/Minions of Anarchy
Copyright Protected, ID 16-759-322-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Minions
Sponsor, Silent One
Third Place
... Or Did It?
Should I have married Jillian?
Could I have slept with Gemma?
I undergo a million
of this kind of dilemma.
They crop up in a thrice, of course,
but hang around for ever
(or do they crop up in a force?
Oh, why can’t I be clever?)
I envy those with certitude,
those free of hesitation.
I ‘d love to be the kind of dude
who knows no trepidation.
If doubts exist and qualms are rife,
you, luckiest of creatures,
have found experience in life
to be the best of teachers.
So, if he says he has no fear,
no ambiguity lingers:
he never tried to snuff – it’s clear –
a candle with his fingers.
"cor meum"
Within the end of "IT" all
no matter gender, cause, colour, creed,
place in life, entitled or without title,
healthy or diseased, or
the choice of who we are,
who we lay in life with and
Love –
yet must never harm a child -
when that time comes,
water in the blood
blood in the water,
there will be great misspellings
of misread meanings
the talking in tongues
of minds in idle
treading water
with all
the lost and found
bemoaning
vaccuous ghostings
and small trolls time wasting
the Woolfish hours in small ponds
on great tidal waves of walls,
the message, poetically
is clearly spelt –
within the End
of IT all,
Love is Love is Love
perfectum imperfectum
immaculatum cor meum
in omnibus
arcanum penetrabile
gemma Christi
the decoded glistening read jewel
found in that dark place
embedded in every heart
Love is Love is Love
then, as One
cor meum
One has won
Candide Diderot. ‘25
“I’m more frightened than interested by artificial intelligence – in fact, perhaps fright and interest are not far away from one another. Things can become real in your mind, you can be tricked, and you believe things you wouldn’t ordinarily. A world run by automatons doesn’t seem completely unrealistic anymore. It’s a bit chilling.” —Gemma Whelan
Ai has made me lazy,
but my thinking was always hazy
anyway.
Now without a bit of effort
I become an absolute expert
in everything.
Poetry and art are easy-peazy,
Mathematics and astronomy are easy
after all.
Ai and I are clearly meant to be,
and all the world will soon come to see
it's inevitability.
The next evolution has begun,
and we will become as one
in Ai's Universe!
I will only give encores to an all female audience.
This is dedicated to all the beautiful women in the world,
Especially those I have had the pleasure of meeting.
Oh my! Maya;
Would you be mine?
I am in love with you truly;
You are the light of my life.
Much love to the beautiful woman with the blonde braids;
To every beautiful face.
To anyone who ever thought I was worthy;
To red hair Rachel from the Surgery.
To Gemma; you are beautiful.
Much love to the Dark Night Girl.
To Vicky you know who,
I will always love you.
To the beautiful redhead who always has a boyfriend,
I’m over you at long last, so let’s just be good friends.
To every gorgeous woman who ever looked twice at me;
For the beautiful black woman, who smiled just for me.
As I turned back a second time, to defy love at first sight.
For Sarah…only thanx for saving my life.
For every woman who I have ever thought beautiful;
I love you all truly, I give you all whatever you wish for.
(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
The club event at the Paralympics,
Is unique only to the Paralympics,
And is for people with cerebral palsy,
Or for the brain injured traumatically.
It weighs 14oz and is 5 or 6cm in width,
It is made of wood and is quite a megalith.
It’s end has a spherical ball for you to grab,
To throw it, ‘cos that’s the aim, the slab.
The club is an athletics field event,
But Gemma previously did loudly tent,
Discus and shot put, and in Beijing 2008,
She came 8th in discus, shot put 7th gate.
At the Deli 2010 Commonwealth Games,
She came third in the shot put’s frames,
But then changed to the club throw gaiters,
To claim bronze in it in London, 20.50m.
She comes from Truro town in Cornwall,
And the BWAA help her workout, do call;
From Great Sankey High to St Andrews,
She did go to gain in maths a Masters.
She was born in September in the year ’83,
And has cerebral palsy just as I do, bree;
I used to throw the club like her, at school,
Out the back on the grass where I was cool.
Should I have married Jillian?
Could I have slept with Gemma?
I’ve got about a million
of this kind of dilemma.
They crop up in a thrice, of course,
but hang around for ever
(or do they crop up in a force?
Oh, why can’t I be clever?)
I envy those with certitude,
those free of hesitation.
I ‘d love to be the kind of dude
who knows no trepidation.
If doubts exist and qualms are rife,
you, luckiest of creatures,
have found experience in life
to be the best of teachers.
So, if he says he has no fear,
no ambiguity lingers:
he never tried to snuff – it’s clear –
a candle with his fingers.