Long Holmes Poems
Long Holmes Poems. Below are the most popular long Holmes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Holmes poems by poem length and keyword.
Funkin AT THE CHICKEN SHACK – Tony Adamo - 1990
Jimmy Smith was laying down an incredible riff on a wall of kinetic sound that was oozing out of my car radio. I was on my way back from a singing gig at an Indian Restaurant. Saturday night is jazz night in the City by the Bay. On my approach to the Bay Bridge, I could see the fog was cold and watery wet, as it lay low and crept along like solders on night patrol in Vietnam.
I steered my Chevy Nova like it was a priceless Lamborghini the musical transition of thought. No traffic on the B Bridge…2:00AM on the steel span and all was right with me. Jimmy smith with friends Kenny Burrell, Stanley Turrenting, and drummer, Donald “Duck” Bailey were my musical guides for the ride.
I dug deep as I had to slow down. The fog was horror movie thick. Now I had time to think to the 100th power. Sho’ ‘ nuff and came up with Don Patterson, Richard Groove Holmes,Charles Earland, George Fame, Wild Bill Davis, Shirley Scott, Big John Patton, Baby Face Willette, Larry Young, Brother Jack McDuff, Jimmy Magriff. That’s where it’s at baby. The royal bloodline of B-3 players who brought us into R&B, Pop, Rock & Roll and Soul Jazz. Into the swingin’ feature goes Joey “D”. No boundries, no limits.
Bridge:
Back at the Chicken Shack people dancin’ to a kookin’ groove.
Breakin’ out into a funk sweat
Boogie sounds brewin’ from the B-3
Your twisted sister never danced like that
Reuben Wilson and his killer sounds was a stackin’ the beat shakin’ the Chicken Shack down to its feet
(Solo)
(Bridge)
What a beautiful and dynamic management of mind, body and intellect goes into coaxing Soul Jazz out of a fat Hammond B-3 organ. Was it the foggy, misty, jazzy night? Or…was it that I actually got paid to sing Jazz? No! It was Jimmy Smith’s playin’ that was vibbin’ me along the steel rail. The joyous atmosphere that hung in dense textures of musical thought was punctuating my life like bayonets turning to thumb prints on the consciousness of my creative mind. It was in thick reference to the wet fog rippling across the bridge, like fingers on a Hammond B3, Jimmy and me……free to be.
From Tony Adamo's Miles of Blu Cd/ Hipspoken Word
Lawyer Oliver from New York City
Moved to country farm run down then pretty
Wife Liza, a city girl
Name the year-old pet pig Pearl,
Tossing dishes away, was quite bitty
4/4/2022
On A Lim Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Green Acres
Named for Oliver Wendell Holmes, he makes the rash decision to leave his successful law practice and pursue his lifelong dream of being a farmer, despite having no real-world knowledge or experience, as evidenced by him doing farm chores while wearing a three-piece suit
Lisa Douglas living with her father, the deposed King of Hungary. Pampered by her wealthy family, her skewed world view and domestic ignorance provide fertile ground for recurring gags.
Sherlock and Watson looked at the woman with blank expressions
What they had were some totally unique impressions
Watson was looking at her, thinking what a poor little thing
Sherlock was wishing the 221 Baker Street bell still did not ring
Her story was not sound in any sort of way to Sherlock who was not fooled.
Watson was ready to slay a dragon and help the woman, he needed to be schooled.
They heard about the dead body but there was no evidence in the least.
The forged papers were blurry, smeared and quite creased.
Her eyesight was not terrific, so Sherlock proved that she did not see what she said.
Watson was the one who figured out that without blood or a body no one was dead.
She was bipolar, and confused, a woman who simply needed her med.
So they sent her to a doctor who prescribed lithium and put her to bed.
A good book gives great gratification,
Be it a mystery, a thriller or romance,
I love them all,
And when it's Christian fiction,
I love them even more,
From Francena Arnold to Karen Kingsbury to Denise Hunter,
I simply love their writing,
Enid Blyton caught my attention as a child,
As did the story of Esther, David, Hannah and Samson,
And then when I was in college,
Came Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte,
And the history of the nation of Israel,
Today, I should say that I'm obsessed with reading,
Sometimes, it's poetry by Helen Steiner Rice,
Sometimes, it's simply Sherlock Holmes or Nicholas Sparks,
But a good book sure gives great gratification to me.
04.05.2021
For Regina's "My Obsession" contest
Clint's an iffy fellow, tis prestige vs the ordinaire, my dear plain Jane--hmm, partially accommodating.
Methinks you're a drop-off, my dear, picture a car dropping you off curbside while he goes looking for a fictitious parking space, but a gentleman he is uses the factual context of the 11th hour--OPS you to HAIL me.
I gather Mr. Eastwood was gifted said ticket, ... that I am guessing you so happened to be in pysical possession.
How did you know that? That would pleasure him of not being a CAD!
I forgot that you're like some madda carrie.
Mother who? You mean that Mother Teresa (rising popularity 1979).
No, that German one.
A German Mother Teresa? Was she young Adolph's school teacher.
Oh forget it! [LATER: she reveals "Mata Hari']"
Did he you call you and tell you, or are you playing Holmes?
Doc--tor 'tis Clint's gift?
Yes, but-- ... --wait ... it must be somebody of importance ... yes, but who?
Hehehe! It would be very rich for me, if I saw a glimpse of your face at this relevant juncture-------was I your suggested choice?
... Yes, Oh my? You're scary!
I wept today, longing surfaced beneath my breath
deepened movement surreptitiously crept forward
until it could no more be ignored or feign sleep
suppressed light seeking harmony dared to tread
my existence worries me at times for I no not
knowing pretends at pretension, a precisely folded
hat makes believe the world is sane, is it now?
Fear tramples right paths, heart renders useless
everything is something not ever nothing
armonicas evoking spirits of the dead as if to say
sheer walls of wishful thinking, insert pause
at a loss for words, she leaves behind her hand
pressed for something, taken for remembrance
fragrance lead me here, deduction and reason
allies in my war of safety, surety, aloneness
foraging for memories, both lucid and ambiguous
pin lights allowing just enough to believe
dipping into the ocean of life, I stand on the shore
of all that was of me and all that will become
of me in all ways, in all days, resting in peace
forever more.
I am the war of
1812.
I am Standard Oil
Dripping with wealth.
I am Edgar Allen Poe
And Beethoven.
I am the first time the
Kentucky Derby opens.
I am the battle at
Wounded knee.
I am giving of the Statue
Of Liberty.
I am the sewing machine
Gets a Patent.
I am Darwin and Uncle
Tom's cabin.
I am Abe Lincoln and the
Gettysburg Address.
I am they place Geronimo
Under arrest.
I am Jack the ripper and
Sherlock Holmes.
I am Alexander Graham Bell
Inventing the telephone.
I am the book Alice in
Wonderland.
I am the inventor
Thomas Edison.
I am the Lewis and Clark
Expedition.
I am the first Olympic game
Competition.
I am the opium war and the
Louisiana Purchase.
I am Florence Nightingale
At your service.
I am the Kodak camera
Box.
I am Moby Dick and
Karl Marx.
Turbo1904
Little I ask, my wants are few,
I only wish a roof and home -
a simple one this man will do
that I may call my own.
To within its walls live and age
with a memoir to fill my page.
Plain fare is all I need for me,
a ration a day to hearty fill,
and oft to satisfy a thirsty plea
water my dry lips to spill.
And so granted if I should ask
a cold stubbie or whisky flask.
I care not for gold and land,
nor chattel or title to obey -
just a mortgage and at hand
money enough to pay.
I only this need ask and pose
lest the bank on me foreclose.
My clothes I do proudly wear,
no robes of bejewelled ties,
for king ‘n yeoman are I swear
equal all in God’s eyes!
Nay, I am not of that noble ilk
and need no garments of silk.
I do not seek what I need not
like a rich man’s cars or toys -
my contentment is with my lot
and in life’s simple joys.
A humble man beholden for
if this world favour me more.
Truly not I begrudge no man
his Hope, his Fate, his Love -
I seek truths none more than
the word of God above!
And to behold if it is His will
His grace in life to death until.
Written: May 2018
With special thanks to
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
If you are Poetry,
- an atlas
Pina Coladas, my escape . .
why do moments taunt me,
your canvas,
sentences that have taken shape?
If you are Poetry,
- a scribble
lyrics of, just the way you are,
how is your symphony
visible
. . when you feel like a distant star?
If you are Poetry,
- my whole world
then, I want to know what love is,
take my hand and show me
words uncurled . .
am I worthy of you, of bliss?
______________________
* Just a little Scribble *
~ Needing to know ~
Form of Poetry (Tri-fall)
_____________
Songs:
Rupert Holmes - (Escape) The Pina Colada Song
Billy Joel - Just the way you are
Foreigner - I Want To Know What Love Is
"Escape (The Piña Colada Song)"
Rupert Holmes Lyrics "I never knew"
That you like piña coladas and gettin' caught in the rain
There's a line in the song that reminds me of an attempted
birthday surprise I was planning for my wife. I was scheduling
'a massage', a Christian one I might add, but later had to cancel
because 'I never knew' that my wife loves massages, but only
ones done by me. Thereafter, I started scheduling 'massages by me'.
The song has a story line with a twisting plot; a pleasing
discovery that's not likely to happen in reality. Though
rare, it is an intriguingly awesome saga. I heard the song
again today, and each time I hear it, my recall button quietly
takes me to Half Moon Bay, where I heard such a beautiful song
over the radio for the very first time more than 30 years ago.
The song had nothing to do with me or anyone I knew.
But I was arrested immediately and captured by the story.
I have learned well that my bride likes Caramel Iced Coffee.
But I must say that after 49 years, there are yet 'discoveries'
of things about my bride that 'I never knew'.
My wife and I have had 'Escapes', but not of the
'surprise variety'. I nor my bride have ever had a
piña coladas nor do we like getting caught in the rain;
but I have always feasted from the creativity in that song.
073021PS