Long Go down Poems
Long Go down Poems. Below are the most popular long Go down by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Go down poems by poem length and keyword.
Murk Rammer froze as he felt the nuzzle
of a snub-nosed thirty-eight’s deadly muzzle.
Louis The Retch poked it into his back.
“The jig’s up, Rammer. I ain’t cuttin’ no slack.”
Murk had been tricked by a double-crossing dame,
alias “Frigitte,” he didn’t know her real name.
She’d been his undoing, that cute little louse,
undoing the buttons on her bulging blouse,
then slipping out of her slip and her hose,
and her holster too; yeah, she had one of those.
He’d fallen for Frigitte, completely deluded.
She’d come on strong, delightfully denuded.
She’d kissed him hard and let him get a good grab,
but when he dozed off she skipped out and blabbed.
The shamed shamus woke up and found a clue
and went to a warehouse -- a decision he’d rue.
He’d fallen for the ruse, he’d taken the bait,
and walked right in to a date with fate.
That darn dame had put him on the spot.
He was one peeved peeper who’d loved for naught.
The warehouse was full of contraband goods.
They belonged to The Retch, a sleazeball hood --
lead falcons from “Malta” and vases from “Ming,”
dubious diamonds and other blarney-ish bling,
a lading of lies from a smug little smuggler,
who played for keeps and went for the jugular.
And now The Retch had gotten the drop.
No chance for Murk to call for the cops.
“It’s curtains for you,” the Retched one said,
“The only way out is to go down dead.”
“You win,” Murk said, with a little shrug.
He knew he was beat and waited for the slug.
A bullet in the back was the final payoff.
Fat chance The Retch would decide to lay off.
Murk heard the click of a cocked-back hammer
and waited for death in his taciturn manner.
Bang! went a gun – but not the thirty-eight.
The shot came from someone hiding behind a crate.
The Retch went down with blood on his chest,
then high heels approached; you know the rest.
Bad girl Frigitte leapt into Murk’s arms.
She just couldn’t stand to see him harmed.
And that had been Murk’s ace in the hole,
playing so well the Romeo role.
He wrapped his arms around Frigitte’s waist
and their mouths joined together, such a spicy taste!
Then he took her hand and led her out
into rain washed streets where wet shadows slouched.
Did Murk turn Frigitte in to the cops?
Or let love fill his head with mushy slop?
The ending of this tale I’ll leave up to you,
but as for me, I haven’t a clue.
Dylan Carston was a well-off young man,
thanks to a large and health trust fund,
his father was a true Wall Street ace
and had been quite generous to his sons.
Dylan had set himself up in Miami
after years spent getting his MBA,
he did consulting four days every week,
the other three he did like to play.
He’d partied with friends at all the bars,
and had his share of hot one-night stands,
not yet had he thought of a wife and kids,
he was enjoying the life of a young man.
One Saturday as he walked down the beach
to get exercise and breath the sea air,
he stumbled upon a frantic woman
calling for him to go over there.
As he drew near he saw down in the sand
a young woman who’s face had gone blue,
he could see no lifeguard near where they were,
but fortunately he knew what to do.
He found no pulse when he listened close,
and placed two hands high on her left breast,
with hard compression he began CPR,
pumping furiously at her chest.
Every so often he placed his mouth on hers
and forced oxygen deep into her lungs,
the other woman ran off to find more help
while Dylan continued the rhythmic pump.
Finally after three desperate minutes
a gurgled rasp echoed up from her throat,
life returned to her, the blue fading out,
though her eyes still knew not where to go.
Moments later he heard the rush of feat,
the lifeguard and the woman had returned,
Dylan gestured to where the girl lay,
“I brought her back, now I think it’s your turn.”
The lifeguard thanked him for taking action,
then knelt down slowly at the victim’s side,
ambulances came, reports were fill out,
when Dylan left three hours had gone by.
He felt good about saving the woman’s life,
it was a moment he would not forget,
congratulations came in, on top of that
the lifeguards sent him a certificate.
Three weeks went by and Dylan returned to
the safe routines of the everyday world,
and bit by bit his thoughts turned away
from the near death of that helpless girl.
So it was with a great deal of surprise
when a process server told him these words:
“Dylan Carston, you’re being sued for assault,
you can consider yourself dully served.”
Dylan’s mind whirled at the accusation,
he had no idea how this could be true?
Had some ex regretted their time and cried ‘rape,’
were they evil enough to go down that route?
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
A Dragon Squirrel Brigade
Dragon got home from the Army, wanting to be totally, in control.
He wanted to be a Drill Sergeant, to teach the recruits, to be bold.
He gave them all a blankie, and a binkie they could keep, I am told.
They’d throw a rock, and shoot in a blink, like the knight’s of old.
He’d practice the squirrels, now, waging a fight, in an old Hawk War.
A sling shot army, his name to fame, who could dare ask for more?
An army waiting, as they fly at our birds, yep, here’d come the corps.
The gumball tree is ready, yes, ammunition does abound, in galore!
Yep, they’re better than those darn possums, I say, sleeping in the day.
They’d Shoot, hanging upside down, slingshots and gumballs, into play.
Dragon marched them up and down, the trunk, and limbs, in the array.
They’d find the perfect spots, to shoot from, at their whim, in the foray.
Seems, they also learned to jump, into an amazing flying squirrel act.
The flying squirrel missed his target, got caught, in a boy’s hair, for a fact!
A kid then threw rocks at the troops, as the hawks were forgot, you think!
Unfortunately, they are squirrels, and some times, do some squirrelly things.
They closed the town down, with a hornet’s nest in every Road. That stings!
Nobody dared go down the streets, a curfew had been struck, in a blink.
Yep, at that moment, the Hawk decided to stealthfully, swoop in for a bird.
A gutter frog jumped on the hawk’s back, forcing him, to the ground, I heard.
At that, our first hero was made, as gutter frogs joined the squirrel brigade.
As the squirrel was removed from the boys’ hair, the barbershop became…
A place for squirrel nesting supplies, so the curfew was lifted, fast as it came.
A gutter frog offering this advice, became the new General, in this war game.
Squirrels, were tired of marching, and being yelled at by Dragon, that night.
They replaced him with the gutter frog, with less smoke and fire. Alright!
But Dragon’s work was done that day, as the troops were ready to fight.
Finally he was a Hero, for he had turned the tide… He was so very proud.
The moral to my story is:
The troops got a Drill Sergeant, but didn’t need him any more.
A General is enough to carry on, for a Generals’ planning is better…
Than a young Dragon’s power and fire… as, yes, Dragon went off to play.
Written by Carol Eastman 2-8-2015
Putin said he wouldn't invade, but then he's known for his lies
So when he sent in his murdering scum, it came as no surprise
It will go down in the annals of history, as Putin's great blunder
And if anything it's united Ukraine, and not tore it asunder.
American President Joe Biden has now found a way
To make that despicable war criminal, Vlad Putin pay
To Ukraine he's sending lethal predator, and reaper drones
That will help to build stocks of dog food, of Russian bones.
Russian soldiers are not human from what we have seen
You've read and seen the evidence, so you know what I mean
They're gutless and have yellow streaks all down their backs
And scurry down to the sewers when Ukraine counter attacks.
Russians fire from a distance and let their lethal missiles fly
At hospitals, nurseries and any innocent civilians passing by
They only kill unarmed men, women and children, who pose no threat
But Russia, the civilised world is watching and we will not forget.
Red flags are what the Russians are using, to justify a crime
But the world is not stupid and it can see through the grime
A Russian town on the border was shelled so they could blame Ukraine
Then used it as an excuse to inflict, more misery and pain.
Every Despot who commits war crimes will always pay the price
Putin the war dog will be put down, Ukraine will not think twice
He'll have to surround himself with thugs and be lucky every day
But an avenger will only have to strike lucky once, to make Putin pay.
No tears were shed when he lost his flagship, in the black sea
It is one lethal weapon less to use, against that war torn country
The west thought sanctions alone would bring this war to an end
But it hasn't really worked, so more arms the west must send.
The battle for the Eastern Donbas region is well underway
And for those brave Ukrainian defenders, we must all pray
They're fighting to defend their freedom and sovereignty
But only military aid from the West will ensure their victory.
The horrific scenes we've seen on the news of towns reduced to rubble
Are because Putin knows he's not winning and that he's in trouble
At his forthcoming military parade, he's hoping to announce a victory
But if he was an honest man he'd tell his country, that he's failed miserably.
Written on 20th April 2022
Poet: Ken Jordan
Story: Street Life
written: July/2014
Child, I have seen many nights
turn to dawn, out in the streets.
I was you once, left home thinking that
I could take care of myself at eighteen.
My parents told me what to
expect from my decision to walk away
from the one's who loved me.
Whatever they said, didn't matter,
because I was mentally gone, (lost) and
rushing to get out there in the unforgiving
cesspool of street life.
One thing is clear, once out there,
I learned very quickly what my parents
tried to get me to see.
The streets are cold , cruel , vicious,
and everyone's for themselves.
When your money runs out, your group
of so called "friends," are gone.
No one is going to give you
something for nothing, you make
it the best way that you can.
Looking back, the temptation of
being out there with my friends,
doing whatever I wanted to do,
without permission from my parents,
was the lure that motivated my
desire to leave home, and hang out
in the streets.
My parents fought tirelessly to
protect me from the hazards of
street life, but obviously, I wouldn't
listen.
They said son, you're too young at
eighteen, haven't finished high school;
you have no money.
What makes you think that you can
make it out there on your on.
You think that it's cool to hang-out, smoke
weed, drink alcohol, pop pills, do edible drugs, and stay up (high )
all night, and fallout wherever
you are.
The devil is a liar, he will set you up,
to lure you in, he'll make you think that
you're, "part of his street family," but, when
it all goes down, (and it will go down), the
devil will point a finger your way, and
leave you to defend yourself, and move
on to the next victim.
In street life, you better know which-a-way
the wicked come.
They wear false faces to hide who
they really are.
I played with the
devil, and crossed many murky,
dark rivers, but, the devil did not win.
I heard my parents voice's saying,
"Theirs only two places to go
from street life, prison or the cemetery."
The devil is a lair, and he's not your
friend. be aware of who and what
you follow, because, all feathers
ain't good feathers, choose the path
of least resistance, and your life
will change for the good in you.
I run through the white
Winter snow
Running from you
You want me to do horrible things
With you
Trudging through snow
Very hard thing to do
You shout out my name
I keep going
A shot is fired
I scream
It hadn't hit me
You call my name
Telling me to come back
I don't listen
To you
If I come back
You'll hit me
You'll make my life even worst
Than before
Another shot is fired
It hits my hand
I scream in pain
I almost fall
But keep going
I know
I will not get away
Never have
Never will
You put drugs in my food
Make me almost paralyzed
Unable to fight you off
I can't feel a thing
Except your heavy weight on me
I try to scream
Your mouth covers mine
I hate you for that
Not letting me speak
On my own
I hear a noise
It's your belt
Coming undone
You take your shirt off
Unbutton mine
You start kissing my chest
My face is covered in tears
I want you off of me
Then you get off
I look at you
You're staring at me
Taking your jeans off
You grab my legs
I try to keep them shut
You just open them again
You rub yourself
Against me
I try to scream again
You put your hand over my mouth
And start to laugh
Telling me to be quiet
You unbutton my jeans
Unzip my zipper
And slide them down my legs
Im completly naked
So are you
I close my legs one more time
You yank them open
Telling me Im being difficult
You lay down on me
And bite my lips
You go down
Lower lower
You bite my neck
You bite my breasts
You are a sick person
You look down
And make it go in
In and out
In and out
I start to sob
You start to laugh
I hate you
I hate you so much
You scream out my name
My hand hurts so much
Im losing blood
Too much
You shoot one last time
It hits my side
I scream and fall
I lay their
Wanting to get this over with
I put my hand to my side
Pull it back
I see blood
I hear crunching snow
You're coming closer
You roll me over
I stare into your eyes
They are black
Lifeless eyes
You start to yell at me
You hit me
Many many times
Snow starts to fall
Down on my face
Everything is getting darker
Its almost pitch black
One last strike
I died
You keep hitting me
Even though you know
Im dead
You step back to look
At my body
You see the scars and marks
You created
Then you see
My blood
Going around my body
That white snow
I fell in
Is now
Nothing but
A red puddle
Of slush
Form:
Fight
I’d fight for you, you know. But I know you aren’t asking that of me. So I’ll be here for you, to fight beside your side if you need me. Because you shouldn’t have to shoulder all this by yourself.
These moments where everything seems like it’s against you. Even your thoughts and emotions. You don’t deserve them.
But they will happen. Especially the latter. Your mind working against you, digging claws into your skin, ready and willing to tear you apart. And what should that matter when you’ve had blood on your own hands before? I won’t tell you pretty words just to brush that under the rug.
You. Dear youngling. Get out of that headspace of yours, get away from whatever is bringing you down. Place your headphones over your head, blast music into your ears. Make art. Rip paper apart. Whatever can get those feelings out without hurting yourself or anyone else.
Listen to me. You are so much more than you know. You are beauty and brains. Kindness and soul. Strength and bravery. Sass and sarcasm. You are not alone. And even if you don’t believe that, look up at the stars that will tell you how not alone you are because you are one with them. Young stardust trying to make its way. Don’t let your mind twist that. Don’t let anyone tell you differently, and that even includes that voice in the back of your head that whispers all those hurtful lies.
Don’t let anyone make you feel inferior. Don’t give up that power to ANYONE.
This moment will pass. You will get through it. You have the means to, you just have to realize it. You have to aim to kill, darling. Silence those bad thoughts. Shut the voices in your head or from others up.
Shoulders back, chin up, take a deep breath, focus, you’ve got this. You are strong, you are a warrior, you can go for the gold, you have bravery running through you, you are bloodthirsty.
Tear down the idea that you are unworthy, not enough, that you can’t be this or that, that you need to lose weight, or change yourself in such extreme ways.
And if you need to stop and take a breath from that fight. Gain some stability. Have a hand to hold. I’m here for you, always. And if you need me to pick up my sword and fight for you or watch your back, you know I will.
I will go down kicking and screaming in the fight for you to break away from these feelings that plague you from time to time if need be.
*WALK ME THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS VALLEY*
Hold my hand and walk me through
So that I will neither fear nor fret
I am stranger on this lonely path
Lead me before the twin ancient temples
Let me worship before the daughter of Zion's altars
Let me marvel at the sight of the wonders of the gods
Let my eyes behold the curves that no architect can make
Works beyond the instinct of sculptors
Lead me to the mountain top
The top men are scared to climb
If I cannot touch let me stretch my hands
To the thrones of the twin goddess
Lead me to the fountain that gives life
Same that feed the liquid manner
The crave of the sinless infants
Maybe I can one day be your priest
Fed from the first drips at daybreak
And an altar to lay for the night
Make a way through the colourful curtains
Made of the finest Royal fabrics
Let me walk through the soft and lonely valley
Let me look up to the hills on both sides
The soft but powerful hills of nature
The hills that caps its peak with the dark candies
The candies we all crave from cradle to grave
I heard the kings doff their crowns to have a taste
They must be made from the historical honey from the lion's jaw
The valley may be short
But I can crawl a thousand times the slopes
I can climb the steep edges
Gently but steady till I reach the top
If I'm gentle and steady
If I can be slow and determined
If I can aim and watch my pace
I can get to the land and have my gain
Don't take this for a play
Believe me I'm willing to lay there till daybreak
Be kind to me and reward my effort
Be nice to me and renew my strength
If I labour for one
Bless me with the other
Let me drink from the spring till I thirst no more
Trust me I shall be gentle and tender
I am afraid to go down the stream
I was told of how dark and rough the path is
I read it is a lonely way
It takes no pair at a time
I know the path is slippery and steep
I'm scared to test the depth with my staff
If I go down the stream
I heard I may lose my way back home
So let me hold on to the hills for now
Where I can lay my head and rest for the day
Where my sweat would be rewarded
And I can have a smile that lasts ages
Where thoughts are crested in memories
And memories remain till no end
Walk me through the hills with the shallow valleys
The path my heart so desire
*CONCEPTUAL FM ???*
Bath City football club is an embarrassment to Bath
Most people ain't heard of them the ones who have laugh
Their aim and ambition is to be what they are
And that's like dreaming you're a broken down car
The fixture list came and it says you take part
So you push that car around the track from the start
Their desire is to exist with no plan to go far
They don't have the fire they don't have the heart
We don't show support when it all looks a farce
Don't we deserve something better than this
In good old Bath City where only rugby exists
Football can rot because rugby's the wish
absolute bollocks it's bollocks it is
Lacking intelligence in this rugby territory
it's like they see football the ultimate enemy
Scared of its presence and what it might do
A city with one club yet big enough for two
Our Uni makes athletes Olympian Gold
Bath Rugby competes while the football's on hold
There is a demand, no there's not we get told
"Football's not our game it's just not our mould"
I know Sir James Dyson is a man made in Bath
we're all proud of that, those Hoovers are bad
I say that as slang, his old bosses are mad
They rejected his hoover, how dumb and how daft
Now with your mass fortune beyond simple maths
You can now do what nobody else ever has
Invest in Bath City and put them on the map
You'll be a hero and they won't be crap
Potential so blatant will finally grow
and with it our pride, a pride never known
fill up the stadium with a reason to go
and fans will keep coming if there is a show
The community will bond as it responds to events
when you create dreams the present prevents
those magical days when the cup brings giants
a promotion or two through your generous expense
there's so much potential, they so under achieve
it wouldn't take much for that club to succeed
giving thousands of locals dreams hope and belief
It's you Sir James Dyson can gift what we need
It'll take off like your Hoovers but the football won't suck
with your big fat fortune it won't cost you a buck
it's a bigger football club than we know but its stuck
and it's about our community, it's a gift of good luck
invest in Bath City and the best is to come,
you'll go down in history as the one champion
who did the one thing that nobody had done,
go on mate please it's a job that sounds fun
Him or me? Sweetie who's it gonna be? You have me waiting, anticipating. This
question should not have you hesitating. I've sat back and listened to you explain. Your
need for me but love for "what-his-name?" It should not be so hard for you to decide. For
he keeps you on an emotional roller coaster ride. Take a look back when I was before him.
It's not difficult to comprehend. I was your honey. lover, friend. Just follow your heart and
follow what your body tells you. It's a start when you acknowledge I've never failed you.
Damn-it woman you hold the power. Who do you think about in lonely hours? Who do you
imagine touching you in the shower? You know I'm the one who goes deep. Sweetie you
know my love is unique. You know I'll do what he won't in the bedroom. You know when it
comes to you nothing is sexually taboo.
I'm the one who takes you out on the town. You know I like to go down. You know I'm
far from selfish in bed. Does he wake you up to morning head? Come on don't lie. Does he
gobble, make you hobble after eating your apple pie? Does he keep your kitty on a sexual
high? Does he flip, dip bite into your battleship? He probably see's it as invalid. So I know
he don't toss your salad. Baby you know what I'm about. Does he make you cry out in
ecstacy? When you're with him do you think of me?
Tell me, does he show you public affection? Was he there with you watching "Obama"
win the election? Is he there for you, share with you special moments in life? Will he
sacrifice his career? Does he whisper sweet words in your ear? Does he kiss the tip of your
nose? Surprise you with a rose? Does he massage your feet? Take you out to eat? Does
he make your heart smile? And to comfort you, would he walk a thousand miles? Does he
do these things and then some? No! He's silly and dumb! Always on the run, always on the
go and no! "Attention" he doesn't show! He don't know that I'm the one who understands. I
support your goals and plans. I know you like no other. You don't need advice from your
mother. She even knows I'll catch you if you fall. You know she see's me as her son-n-law.
Continued on pt 2
Note: Spoken word piece. Sometimes ladies you let that best male friend get away and
end up with th wrong man!