Long Hats Poems
Long Hats Poems. Below are the most popular long Hats by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hats poems by poem length and keyword.
Where do your ideas come from?
I am astonished, astounded, surprised each time.
Don’t other people listen? Pay attention? Drive to work?
How can they not notice the toaster is pouting today?
Don’t their....
neighbors have screaming yelling fights and end up laughing?
dogs wear cowboy hats and run around shooting their six-shooters?
husbands trip on ducks and fall into a Maltese Falcon Statue?
How can they not notice their underwear is on backwards?
Do they not see the stars spying them as they take a whizz?
Do they not feel their living room’s hostility when they paint it gray?
Where do my ideas NOT come from is a better question actually.
Awe & shock bowlers in the dock our warlock & glock “the judge”
Rapscallion and stallion wrangling with dangling golden medallion
Facing the pacing battalion on our latest sinking Caribbean galleon
Our burly oracle with each follicle so curly a rock that won't budge
In that 90’s dungeon Robin our classy curmudgeon brassy bludgeon
Truncheon fine dining on a hurly burly Courtenay & Curtly luncheon
Calms alarms and qualms delivers us from harm with stoic heroic psalms
Call to arms more like baobabs than palms those offside charms “the Judge”
Speedsters scary & lairy others wary prime time for our hairy chest fairy
Robin our pace Pontiff willow ace not a whiff or a riff or sniff of what if
Believers in his jobbing levers will go biff in any tiff that's the pith of Smith
Not just a county squire but quite possibly the ultimate Hampshire Sire
Calling card hit it so hard earned the fable label of both BATman & Robin
Hall of fame name can’t smudge hats doff to a complete one off “the Judge”
Once a week, from six till seven,
Every Wednesday, in a room down town.
I go to a meeting for big strong men,
Wearing funny hats, big boots and a gown.
We all sit in a circle and have our say,
Sharing experiences throughout the week.
Talking about the words we had to confront,
About the poems we’ve had to critique.
You see, this group is for men fearing the verse,
Fear driving them to secretive tears.
Hiding from the works of poets of the day,
They’ve hidden from poems for years.
The stanzas and rhymes, the casual lines,
The acrostic and ballad and footle.
They freak us all down to a blubbering mess,
To us, poetry’s a rough, savage brutal.
A TRIBUTE TO DAD AND MOM
Dear Dad and Mom,
Both of you have been an inspiration in our lives
It will remain like that forever.
Dad, even when you left us waiting patiently for Mom to join you on that heavenly
shore,
She gave us the best with no frown.
This may be a joyous moment for you but heartache for us.
I didn’t have a slight feeling of sorrow when you left us.
I was too small to understand what it meant to lose someone as precious as you
but Mom did??
But she didn’t show us how she felt but drowned in it for eighteen long years…..
I really miss Mom now but her presence is always felt.
It’s not so easy to digest the fact
That now I stand alone on the face of the earth thinking that I have everybody
beside me.
Nobody can replace the love and care that was rendered by both of you.
Hats off to both of you because your love was incomparable and unique.
Though I didn’t experience much of your love Dad,
I did experience enough of moms that I truly know that it’s unique.
Love you both with no regret.
R.I.P
Form:
Soul,
"Even the mind fades with time . There’s no escaping it. One has to make the most of it (the mind) while they still have time and some youth left. What stays beautiful is the soul." LLB
Laid down with the dropping of the ball
the joyous clinks ringing in a year,
party hats, strange first kisses,
inconspicuous memory lapses,
time marching on,
in seconds it all but disappears
fresh starts, disrobing dissertations
interludes
listening to music, assessing the wind
moments meant to be held
not without meaning
sharing what we have
not what we have not
pressing your being on top my chest
laying claim to your riches
engulfing the scent
for you alone it carries my name
twinkles amid periwinkles
surrounded in a gaze
pure harmony and grace
a place
to call more than just a home
the bells of Saint Raphael are ringing
gently, my heart beats in tune, singing
flowery words quietly are filling up
the vastness of the oceans
there is no need to rush
slowly we build
fortunes fulfilling foundations
freedom to breathe
forevers to live
A Day of Reckoning
Forenoon, it had been raining during the night
the wizened winter landscape was now green
and amongst olive trees long-legged sheep grazed;
their pastor and, on occasions, executioner, sat on
a boulder casting dreams into the future; man and
beast, rustic peace, pity I hadn’t a camera.
On my way to the village to buy the papers, a sheep
had been run over by a truck, with its stomach burst
open and its content glinting in the sun, it was still
alive. Ah, you dumb animal abandoned by everyone
it looked at me without any hope of deliverance,
so I reversed my car and ran over its head.
As the skull was crushed its eyes popped out, landed
at the middle of the road that now had eyes to see
with, the shock of this made it shudder a long rent in
the asphalt wench black tears trickled. Quickly
I threw the eyes into the thicket which was instantly
transformed into a field of tinkling bluebells.
From nowhere a road gang of small, denim-clad men
with big hats appeared, they were badly paid and lived
on road kills. Expertly strewing soft sand on blood, filled
cracks with healing asphalt, and off they drove with
their dinner. Empty road it had no knowledge of what
had just occurred, it was up to me to remember.
Not for nothing am I something.
My alter-ego absent-mindedly swats a fly
from the tip of its nose.
The hard stool I am sat upon squirms,
if it had one more leg it might have left the room.
Take you for instance, your unfounded faith
in reality,
it's always changing,
your life is a changing room,
your clothes never fit, and your choice of hats
attracts the attention of interdimensional aliens,
who, as we all know,
are always looking to nest somewhere.
I think the chair needs to take a dump, it's straining
under my weight, and my alternative persona
is now sneezing uncontrollably.
I bolt for the door, chasing after my soul,
which suddenly has decided to take a vacation
far away from my
hard to explain, presence.
"Reality shall not be infringed". I yell.
A saggy skin is turning gray -
fingers, long and thin,
hang below my ankles in disarray.
I should like to try more time-travel
but shockingly,
I think this is the end of the line.
Foxglove faeries flitting freely,
tiny little ethereal sweeties;
picking blossoms to make hats,
faerie boys make themselves spats.
Mice, moths and butterflies,
are there strictly to apprise,
they're tiny judges of latest styles,
those faerie designs are really wild!
Among the flowers faeries flutter,
flying smoothly as hot butter;
wispy wings transparent be,
lovelier than the dogwood trees.
Fading blossoms made into clothes,
are fitting for the likes of those;
elementals craft some lovely things,
of colors fit for queens and kings.
If these faeries you ever espy,
say nothing and just pass on by;
disturb them not amid their duties,
just be pleased you glimpsed these cuties.
We look at this world from our hiding place,
Through a mist of ignorance and prejudiced gaze,
From a tiny little hole with a tiny little piece,
We interpret the whole blooming space!
Intellect is locked and we have thrown away key,
Our God given gift, the eyes cannot see,
We have created blindness through beliefs,
And our conscience is sold to social thieves!
Do not turn holy pages and utter holy words,
If hearts and minds lodge knives and swords,
Much kindness is achieved with a blade of grass,
If good benevolence your thoughts encompass!
So let’s not fool around with religious gimmicks,
With colours, beards, hats or candle sticks,
For he who created you in the purity of his self,
Was to respect and worship creation itself!
The combination
Locks
The drops that say
Today
Rain is in the forecast
And come what may
Can stay
The easy isn't
Answers
No lies the storys
True
With blue a backdrop
Waiting and clouds
That crowd
For you
I saw it simply
Simple
The hats and chaps
That clear
Ahead is no like
Answers
With roses
That show
Your dear
So tick the tock
And mean it
The stop like locks
Like clues
The news is free
Like always and
Mondays
Mean like lose
I Mean it
I have a
Hither
The morning
Cast it's shine
Like mine the meanings
Missing like locks
That's hard to find
So see me
Its a secret
I'll love you
When your gone
And song will play
Forever
And then its
Wrong
Like locks and
Leave it simple
Go here to find a
Clue
A combination
Of sorrow and
Tomorrow
Will say
Its true