Long Impersonator Poems
Long Impersonator Poems. Below are the most popular long Impersonator by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Impersonator poems by poem length and keyword.
Smiling sultrily, he
Struts, a tattooed Elvis,
Seducing us with song.
Springing from the stage, he
Sweeps us into frenzy.
Success seems sure when it
Sounds like “J.D. Fortune.”
(I first heard of this sexy Canadian singer in 2005 when I watched
him win the CBS reality show: Rock Star INXS. He was then a member of
INXS on and off for several years. Previous to his win, he had actually
been an Elvis impersonator and I've only recently read this AFTER writing this poem!)
check him out singing his famous song Pretty Vegas with Dave Navarro: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4kJhQJqr7U
Written 4/25 by andrea dietrich
for the Let's Pleiades Contest of nette onclaud: theme - Masquerade
got what he wanted at my expense.
Said crack fast talking
hacker and scammer
pulled figurative wool over my eyes
going incognito and speaking a clipped
English mien his disguise.
He appeared (rather sounded) genuine
after yours truly experienced computer snafu
(the Macbook Pro essentially hogtied
courtesy virus that disabled any activity)
even turning the laptop off then on
only wrought frustration to boot.
An out of state Apple computer
technical support person impersonator
(imposter invariably linkedin
to aforementioned fraudster -
most likely brother in arms)
answered telephone number
provided on the screen.
Admonitions against sharing details
about case in point, whereby cyberpunk
donned many hats to convince me
serious computer virus,
malware, trojan horse, et cetera
counterbalanced with voice on other end
affecting sedulousness to "listen carefully"
and carry forth the following commands.
Yours truly trustingly,
passively, meekly, et cetera
(though feeling jittery)
carried out the repeated instructions,
which charlatan inveighed against
speaking softly (in retrospect,
I ought to have carried a big stick),
indicating (as if held at gunpoint)
to headout off to the Trappe branch
of Citizens Banks and withdraw cash
all the while recording verbal dialogue
with small, medium at large criminal
(the scam artist(s) in question).
Upon retrieving legal tender
(quite a wad), thee next entrapment
entailed driving to closest ATM machine,
an MP gas station/convenience store
in Collegeville to convert
high denomination bills
(a considerable number
of money crisp Benjamins)
into bitcoin cryptocurrency
then hightailing back to where I live,
an assisted living facility
named Highland Manor.
Finally, the schmegegge script
(incorporating ejaculations that
questionable hacker convinced me
to swallow hook, line and sinker)
alluded to strong likelihood
scam artist lurked in close proximity
to above named banking institution,
which divine comedy bumbling
Ace of spades, an inept card shark
anagram name (Meg Found)
left as crypto clue told.
nor any greed
from one suppurating marriage
this guy wants to be freed
with no malice this cheap tricking
super tramping wordsmith
of inxs ac of dc charged cheap tricks
sans done dirty deed.
This impersonator qua sometime bard of yore
admits to his apology
if ye get taken totally abominable
like bar rammy aback
to proposition ye with carnal desires in store
and ideally match deeds ease with these words
towards such strong desire to adore
forsooth that naked realm
to allow the noggin to bore
together in close syncopation like couplet core
and would now gently encourage
his newfound muse
to let me dip me quill in
iambic pentameter du jour
a wordsmith who shies away
drinking pot or smoking booze.
Now with a zing
i step into the digital xing
via summit da fall low wing
written jest to byte tongue in cheek
yet unsure if zee phone here will ring
or an unexpected gold plated invitation
after the yodeling ding
in an effort to hear that pleasant
yet discordant musical ka -- ching
for cherished pennies,
nickels, dimes, nickle back
et cetera from heaven to bring.
Twiddling me fir and twenty black bird
shaped like a green thumb
as me schmart simian Semitic ****
gets comfortably numb
after quaffing
humongous amount of rum
while downing oral rob hurts
sesame street pudding
made of pureed plum
unlike jack in the corner
my luck mooch oh more glum
and despite facial stubble here
and there a stale crumb
this har dabbler in words haint no bum
only a hard knock er skool alum.
from thee one and only almighty
alfred e. neuman king crusty crab crumb son Rodg
er alias scott matthews - whose words
intended as playful persiflage
if curious to learn more about me
emanating from cranial lodge
unless no auto mat tick interest arises -
whence this reply u can dodge.
A milling crowd (aren't they all),
I call my name
then try my real name
then a made-up name.
The crowd separates reluctantly,
A man with an ever changing face steps forward.
I intently recognize myself,
a self of many ages, some even before birth.
I am emotional, this is a cathartic moment
my eyes are pinballs being flipped
in a lit-up cosmic game.
The person is my personal
imago/, amigo, avatar,
my part-time impersonator.
This is no time for self analysis,
I take him by the hand
lead him into my mind, claim him,
show him as I am now
in the eye of a cracked mirror.
His face has stopped fluttering through time,
his eyes are now moth orbs
as golden as an astronauts visor.
I reflect upon them like the sun.
He tells me that all of his personas,
all of his faceted me-ness
revolves around an inner star,
then walks absent mindlessly
back into the crowd.
I turn to look at the rest of the world,
it is a radiant carousel painted upon
an endlessly nocturnal canvas.
The canvas and the painting
were created by an unknown artist,
one still waiting to be discovered.
It has been brought to my attention by Elvis fans,
not to mention a slew of phone calls from irate Elvis impersonators
that my last poem was very insensitive.
For that I would like to apologize.
I would also like to set your minds at ease and inform you
that in no way were any corpses harmed in the writing of...
"Are You Lonesome Tonight" (AKA Digging On Elvis)
Although Elvis didn't hold up so well
on the trip back to Graceland...
As luck would have it though Walmart
was having a special on large trash bags.
Two for one! And the environmentally friendly ones too!
We all know how hard it is to find those on sale!
Now where was I...
Oh Yea!
So we were able to get every last piece of Elvis
safely back to his final resting place.
Once again let me apologize for any harm I've caused
the hundreds, no let's make that thousands...millions
of Elvis fans and Elvis wannabes.
Sincerely yours and a fan myself,
Mike
P.S. I'm also somewhat of an Elvis impersonator:
Pass me one of them there jelly doughnuts will ya...
Pretty good uh?
Maybe you have to be there...
WHEN YOU GIVE BIRTH TO 8 CHIILDREN AND HAVE 27 GRANDCHILDREN TWO GREAT GRAND IT'S LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO STEAL MY IDENTITY I AM SO SURPRISED MY KILLERS JAMAICAN TALIBAN IDENTITY THIEVES STALKERS COULDN'T REALIZE THIS I SERVED WORKING AT 6 DIFFERENT MILITARY BASES RETIRED FROM THE CENTRAL COMMAND WITH THE HELP OF SENATOR BOB GRAHAM ATTORNEY GENERAL CHARLIE CRIST THE MANY INFLUENTIAL PEOPLE IN MY LIFE I AM TRULY STUNNDED AT THE STUPIDITY OF MY IMPERSONATOR J JOHNSON HENRY FALSIFYING DOCUMENTS IN ORDER TO HELP ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS JAMAICAN ROAM ABOUT THE COUNTRY SEATED WITH ABUSE OF POWER IT IS TRULY SAD 23 YEARS AGO THESE JAMAICAN TALIBAN IDENTITY THIEVES STALKERS OBSESSED WITH MY POETRY ATTEMPTING TO HAVE ME MURDERED GOD LIFTED ME THROUGH THE FIRES OF HELL AND I STILL FEEL BLESSED I AM SO HONORED TO BE BORN IN 1963 MARCHING MARTIN LUTHER KING JR I HAVE A DREAM SPEECH ROSA PARKS STANCE ON CIVIL RIGHTS JOHN LEWIS FREEDOM RIDERS MEDGAR EVERS THE 4 LITTLE GIRLS BOMBED KILLED IN THE CHURCH PRESIDENT KENNEDYS DEATH THE DEATH OF ST JOHN XX111 I AM BLESSED THAT MY IDENTITY THIEVES PERPUTRATING FRAUD AGAINST ME USING MY EX HUSBAND BIRTH YEAR 1962 THIS WAS WHAT BASICALLY CAUGHT HER AND PETER GARGANO TOTALLY SEPERATING ME FROM HER VICIOUS FRAUD CAUGHT BY SPECIAL AGENT ALLEN KING J JOHNSON STOLE MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE AND ALTERED MY AGE IN ORDER TO FLEE THE COUNTRY HER MOTHER USED MY COUSIN COOKIES BIRTH CERTIFICATE TO FLEE TO JAMAICA Y64 IS J JOHNSON ATTEMPT TO PERPUTRTATE FRAUD UPON ME WITH FALSE INFORMATION FALSIFYING BIRTH CERTIFICATES MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE HELPING ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS I CELEBRATE ME1963 AND ME THIS YEAR REPRESENTS MY PLATNUM BIRTHDAY 63 BORN IN 1963 I FEEL TRULY HONORED AND BLESSED THAT MARTIN LUTHER KING JR HAD A DREAM THE YEAR OF MY BIRTH GOD BLESS AMERICA
1/13/16
Waking up bright and early, and allready using the percolator
Figure out what is and isn't worth the labor
Learn what's greater
Before a possible outcome is determined later
Don't ever try to put people, animals or the Earth in danger
Otherwise I'll take you out faster than the terminators
Above the dirt and craters
Always loved to work in nature
And to earn that paper
With no intentions to ever curse a neighbor
Because I'll handle it myself, an will not be the first to waiver
Never be an impersonator
Or try to excuse mistakes on having the worst behavior
Put the pieces together, instead of trying to ruin major amounts of ferns and acres
On both sides of the equator a fire burned several layers
Some of the ash and leftover residue turned into vapors
Lost and got back some bulk
As a kid and adult
Ran into many cults
Doing things that harmed innocent folks
So the result was a revolt and me turning into the hulk
Before beginning to catapult above a gulch full of mulch
By: Dalton Ogletree
When jay Townsend Johnson Henry
climbed in my windiw searching
for my American poetry sending
chills down my spine author star
Parker was parked awaited this
impersonator my poetry wasn't as
grand as Robert frost or even
Edgar Allen poe I was broken
disabled mother retired nursery
school teacher from Germany I
enjoy folklore poetry with my children
I adored writing I certainly wasn't
highly educated I attended a school
for journalism as a child in Chicago
writing was my passion my grammer
was way off miss spelling words but my
poetry was mine and she was obsessed
with my poetry my life hence my dearh
nevertheless my imposter grew
enraged fearing my safety after I
contacted the fbi the attorney general
office she crawled away like a spineless
crab leaving dirty sand mites in her wake
as she gathered killers and dealers
to murder me end my life for my
American poetry I still cringe at the
behest of the full knowledge of this
sheer hardship i survived her threats
assassination attempts while she would
finally dummy up to dumb down
fascinating to say the least my prayers
remain for the soul of this person of
such envy hatred and cruelty for me
cruelty for a disabled American poet
I thank god for saving me from my killers