Long Infamous Poems
Long Infamous Poems. Below are the most popular long Infamous by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Infamous poems by poem length and keyword.
Skagway, Alaska in the late 1890s was sure a rowdy place alright!
It was seethin' with humanity a-raisin' hell all through the day and night!
'Twas the gateway to Chilkoot Pass beyond which lay Klondike gold!
Why! You could scoop up nuggets by the bushel, or so it was told!
Jefferson Randolph 'Soapy' Smith 'owned' the town and was so very brash.
He came up with nefarious schemes to relieve newcomers of their cash!
Madame Gertie arrived with her soiled doves and set up houses of ill repute.
Among the ladies were Ethel the Moose, Mollie Fewclothes and Maude the Mute!
Tinklin' pianos and screechin' fiddles played in saloons invitin' boozers in.
Hordes of horses whinnied, dogs howled and mules brayed addin' to the din!
The Home of Hooch, Red Onion and Mangy Dog saloons flung open their doors,
To sate the thirsty sots before they tried their luck at diggin' by the scores!
Hawkeye Blevins, notorious gambler, grabbed a table at the Hungry Pub Saloon,
And with slight of hand relieved many gullible rubes of their moolah all too soon!
Even preachers tossed aside Bibles and grabbed shovels to join the endless queue,
To foolishly struggle up Chilkoot Pass in the dead of winter with that motley crew!
A few hardy stampeders found their Eldorado but many more came to naught!
Death, disillusionment and starvation stymied the quest for which they sought.
Many a hapless feller lies beneath that frigid land never more to roam.
Infamous Soapy Smith lies at rest in Skagway Cemetery, there, his final home!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Currently I find myself confined
To 1 room my bedroom
In the 3 bedroom house I presently
own or should I rather say have to
repay the mortgage on
Because although for the countless
many times she says she cares
her actions provide lasting proof
she quite obviously does not
She only ever seems to care when
if I don't and therefore effects her
Now when I leave or come back in
I enter not through the side door
But through the front door which has
barely ever been used or opened before
At my bedroom resides at the top of the
stairs that when I climb them creak which
really defines it's actual true age
A place called number 22 i bought in
essence I thought I could call my
own very home
Which once upon a long , long time ago
represented a fairytale come true that
besides pride , joy , happiness a all
encompassing safe space
So funny now how upon looking back
today each and every passing day
I further begin to see it as a tightening
rope around my neck strangling and
smothering me to death
And all I now want to do is leave this
place of ever increasing misery behind
as soon as is humanly possible
So at least I still have a few of some of
those my most cherished favorable
memories left to take with me
Before they are taken from me
and tainted forever and slowly ebb
away till finally they are long gone
So get me out of here as soon as
possible for heaven sake or mine
please
Whilst I still want or wish to have the
Number 22 Tattooed on my back
Before the Number 22 eventually
becomes placed beside or added
in the pantheon
Of so called other named unlucky
numbers such as the infamous ilk
of the dreaded
13
we strolled midtown for awhile
hints of sun followed us beneath the
bavarian alps i was taken by
the snow capped mountains creating
a brilliant show of diamond crystals
calmly reflecting from storefront windows
holiday displays of santa klaus at his best
i would say we continued past rows of homes
collected like doll house's just to the left a tiny
bike shop i rushed in grabbing the new basket
to fill with fresh granny smiths from thee upcoming
market in view just to the right african violets lined
the the entrance way leading
to the hidden park
a quiet nook in the middle of town square i thought
masculine most of all quite charming face to face with
the subtle statue of thomas mann my form changed
i was abruptly aroused by his daringness fine liturature
art and playwright mann consumed me with folklores
gothic tales the infamous lounging of salzsburg crest
instantly a brisk chill blew over my foundation dazed i was
walking upon frauenkirch
our lady of munich doting downward to my tiny existence
i gathered myself in a very suspicious haste walking backwards
staight into the kneeling black horse knightless his back emptied
a daunting task for the bishop beyond my fascination
of castles christmas past nutcrackers wooden trains walking dolls
springs bolts screws and coo coo clocks sounding off at midday
displaying the woodcutters the milking maids in german town
He ranked as de facto semiprecious,
tremulous and unanimous scapegoat
bullied by a bumptious, callous,
disputatious hippopotamus of a brat
infamous bruiser later in his life to become
forty fifth president of UnIted States.
Though documentation incomplete, the un
named subject referred within torn shred
recovered included signatory couching
ambiguous references to a tenebrous,
unscrupulous, and vicious wiseass initials.
Dee Tee quickly intuitively assessed
as one inhumane specimen, whose pugnacious,
pretentious, and pestiferous, persona characterized
impetuous, adulterous apprenticeship appetite
for erecting phallic skyscrapers.
This once pacific pilloried pupil, whose grown
son (myself), now recalls father's misty eyed
anecdotes dripping with acrimonious, curmudgeonly
grouchy, grizzly and crotchety old sorries,
viz refashioned abominable kamikaze
psychological sorties.
I can vividly recall (how painful unto his old age)
oft daddy's repeated quotidian taunts, whereby
that bad ass, acidulous, avaricious, contemptuous,
enormous, and grievous big boy trumpeting
bruiser exuded devious, heinous, libelous, and
parsimonious tightwad, though born into wealth.
SEBASTIAN HOW YOU SANG
IN ME RAISING THE HARMONIC
AQUSTIC SOUNDS ABOVE THE
TEAL WATERS OF WHITE SAND
THE SYMPHONY STORMED ACROSS
THE SEA WITH OUR INFAMOUS
MELODY CREATING A PERCESSION
OF DANCE TRIGGERED BY THE
SOFTNESS OF YOUR TOUCH MY
KINGS ARRIVED DETROYING THE
HARSHNESS THAT BESTOWED A
TIMING OF MURDER THE MOMENT
WE ARRIVED BACK HOME SAFE
ON THE ISLAND OF WARMTH
HOW I SURVIVED MY OWN
ASSASSINATION OVER MY
BEING AN FNI INFORMANTS
THESE KILLERS ARRIVED
OBSESSED WITH MY AMERICAN
POETRY JAMAICAN
FEMALE DRUG SMUGGLERS
TONI JAY TOWANDA SHAINA
ALIANA RASTA ANDREW
8-14-2003
The Royal Australian Navy once had a fine destroyer.
It was a ship of the Daring Class named the HMAS Voyager.
This destroyer was tragically sunk in February of 1964.
That infamous event occurred at Jervis Bay.
Eighty-two of Voyager's crew were killed that day.
The carrier Melbourne hit the Voyager and split her in two.
The Melbourne also rammed an American ship too.
This Australian carrier is something we no longer see.
She was sold and scrapped, and is now part of history.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem
you followed closely behind me
out the corner of my eyes
I could only see your shadow looming
I clutched my books closer to my vest
losing a button at the light dashing
through the alley the sign read kennedy
my heart panting my penny loafer's
splashed about tainted oil spills
from auto mechanics mesh
dantily I walked backwards
backing into the irish stone building
reeking of fear I let out an infamous
sigh catering to my path
looking over my shoulder glancing
through my dark rimmed glasses
dropping my pencil I scurried off
in spite your awkward gestures
to take a peek at my drawings
suddenly i remembered you
when my pedal broke
while riding my mongoose
from thee oxford exchange
settling inside the soft nook
of pastel fabrics from Pakistan
anxious I was eagar to make it home
away from your froward eyes
wondering what could you want
dropping my notebook just in time
for a fire drill at st Theresa
school of arts dazzled I was
when father arrived holding
his lantern exposing your
dark expression so cleaverly
portrayed your blackness in snow
finally revealing the face of a crow
Here it comes again.
some melodic beat
brings dancing to my heart and feet
and then when list expected
that infamous word is detected
revealed necessary to be interjected;
some grandiose display
that causes pause to say
what the hey?
Did it really need expression
when I was simply easing in my obsession
of the music and the dance aggression?
There it was in hip hop
the word so easily dropped
when once it was taboo and not an op,
but here it comes again
unnecessary yet falling like a crane
never found in my home domain.
Once used most often in justifiable anger
sought to express the innocence as it's strangled
but now it spills out in frequent clamor
with little pause or second thought
rambling the wrath once brought
intending to be part daily fraught;
could you take it back
let it be restricted by tact
and return self control on track?
Strolling thro' the cemetery the other day I chanced to see,
Various grave stones that were quite intriguing to me.
Most were modest, a few monumental, some very old.
On each was etched a tad of history with a story to be told!
The founder of the city has a grandiose memorial, of course.
O'er his grave he's shown astride a handsome horse!
Nearby lies an infamous desperado asleep in his tomb.
Lying along side is the sheriff who brought about his doom!
Time-worn stones brood o'er a pioneer family of eight.
An Indian raid seems to have hastened their untimely fate!
Hallowed graves of soldiers are marked by marble stones.
Alas, scattered among them are markers for a few "Unknowns."
.
Flowery and laudatory epitaphs, I noted are numerous,
Some very sad and others quite humerous!
"Twas the last rodeo he rode; Off Old Red's back he was throwed!"
"He's now in his heavenly abode; He missed the bend in the road!"
"A spiteful gossip was Miss Jones; Now thro' eternity she atones!"
"This plot of grass is all he owns; Here lie his mortal bones!"
"He left a life of strife; He lies in peace 'til he's joined by his wife!"
"He led a very wicked life; 'Twas ended with her butcher knife!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Paris is a neon city of lights, color, and myth,
where people go out on a Friday night with
enthusiastic faces.
Eagles of Death, metal band were rocking it
at Bataclan Hall with oldies and their latest hit,
covering all their bases.
Happy voices and music mingle mid-air
for the city of light doesn't have a care
life moves merrily on.
And yet, all of that is soon about to change
their world will become bazaar and strange
their dreams all gone.
A human bomb tears into flesh and bone
but that suicide bomber did not come alone
the carnage has begun.
At multiple locations near and in the city
people are brutally murdered without pity,
by madmen with a gun.
Men of fanatical faith, filled with hate,
using religion to kill, choose their fate,
martyrs for a cause.
Innocence slaughtered in Allah's name
bought ISIS scorn and infamous shame,
and fickle applause.
We commiserate with the people of France
that was more than a depraved act of chance,
that was an act of war!
To prevent more atrocities, countries must unite,
and eradicate ISIS bases with a military might
the world's never seen before!
(Rhyme)
11/23/2015