Long James bond Poems
Long James bond Poems. Below are the most popular long James bond by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long James bond poems by poem length and keyword.
I’m bringing back an old memory
because with my internal American flag flying at half-staff
I could use a little humility…and I certainly could use a laugh:
It was the day a lady…after staring…walked up to me in a store…
and said, “You look just like my”….then she stopped to stare some more.
As she paused to evaluate every detail…every similarity…
I must admit my imagination ran away with me.
I was imagining she’d say Sean Connery…
and I wasn’t sure how I’d respond…
If she thought I resembled, in my opinion, the best of all the Bonds.
I imagined I would smile and tell her,
“That’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever heard
and I just so happens I was on my way to get a martini…shaken…never stirred.”
I was thinking how I’d handle this…as my face she finished appraising…
“Yes!” She said, “you look just like my Grandpa…the resemblance is amazing.”
She made this remark so innocently…with such elegance and grace…
and when she mentioned I looked like her grandpa a smile filled her face.
“It really is remarkable!” She said. “I find it so hard to believe.”
“Thanks!” I smiled, “That’s one of the nicest compliment I have ever received.”
No…she didn’t say James Bond…007…
never mentioned Sean Connery…
but if I reminded her of someone she loved…who made her smile…
well…that was good enough for me..
It’s been years since that moment in the store…
but if I had in my possession a wand…a magic wand…
I might turn back time to that moment so I could ask her
if her grandpa…was ever mistaken for James Bond.
I do not sleep.
I maintain my awakeness
surrounded in a room of comic books.
I search for a hero, a savior,
a guiding light that can
lead me through my darkest hours.
The most books I have are of
Captain America
He fights with his shield, man of freedom.
Though my gravity is towards Hellboy
as I'm destined for Hell
and he's made his own journey or two to the feisty world.
Deadpool, Wolverine, Doctor Strange
they comfort me along with Ghost Rider
Moon Knight, Godzilla, Lobster Johnson are all there too.
But who stands above the rest?
Which comic book character is my hero?
Or should I be looking at my bibles and Jesus Christ?
Batman, Silver Surfer and even James Bond...
can they tell the stories I need to hear?
Spiderman, Daredevil, Marauders, they seem to talk to me.
Thor, Loki, Superman...
their books I read
and sometimes just peruse through
But I think my hero is Carnage
Supervillian that's a symbiote.
He keeps me widely entertained!
The other day I was taken aback by something a young girl in the bookstore said…
It made me lose my perspective as my expectations ran away with my head.
This can happen when I least expect it and I usually get burned
which immediately brings me back to reality…and allows my humility to return.
She stared at me…I smiled…she said, “Excuse me but you look like….
and here is where my curiosity took over…as my expectations spiked…
I bet she’s going to say Sean Connery…and how would I respond
if she thinks I bear a resemblance to the best of all the Bonds?
If not the inimitable James Bond…perhaps she thinks I am a clone
of the older, strong and adventurous...father of Indiana Jones!
By this time in my own head my sensibilities were blurred…
I mean…I don’t even like martinis…not shaken…not even stirred.
Still to be mistaken for James Bond…now that would be a feat
that would make my day at work…totally complete.
Back to the girl standing in front of me…once my face she finished appraising…
“You look just like…my Grandpa.” She said, “the resemblance is amazing.”
I smiled as my ego plopped back to Earth…but I realized instantly…
that looking like her Grandpa was good enough for me.
Because she made the remark so innocently…with such elegance and grace…
and the mere mention of her Grandpa brought a smile to her face.
Expectations are a funny thing, however
for as she left the store this thought upon me dawned…
I wonder if her Grandpa was ever mistaken for James Bond?
Angel has fallen from the top of the tree
Broken baubles lay strewn by the door
Christmas chaos caused by the cat
Damaged branches and lights on the floor!
Eager hands clear up the mess
For today we should rejoice
Glorious news that baby Jesus was born In Bethlehem
His birth is the reason we celebrate on Christmas Day.
Icicles may hang on trees like icy fingers
Jack frost will try to nip our nose and toes
Keep well wrapped up and try to stay warm.
Lots of lovely food adorns our festive table
Many hungry tummies are soon to be filled
No, I can't possibly eat another mouthful ….
Overeaten and now we all want to fall asleep!
Presents are unwrapped; hear the whoops of delight
Queen’s speech is on the television at 3 o’clock prompt
Repeats of films we love to see every year –
Sound of Music and a James Bond film are always on!
Time to go outside and enjoy the fresh air
Underfoot the snow is crisp and deep
Verdant gardens are dusted with sparkling snow
Winter is a wonderful time of year.
Xenops is a bird we won’t see on our winter walk
You may be lucky to see a robin redbreast
Zigzagging through the swirling snowflakes.
Contest form A
Sponsored by Broken Wings
01~22~16
Tonight I went out Swinging for the very first time
Now the title has grabbed your attention – I hope you will read my rhyme!
Tonight I went to hear The Manx Swing Band
The best musicians throughout the land
Don Elliot and Terry Quayle have been members right from the start
Forty years in the band - they have never been apart
Classic swing tracks we all love to hear
In the interval you can even have a beer
Fabulous melodies and tunes from many years ago
With saxophones swinging gently to and fro
We began with ‘On the Sunny Side of the Street’
As soon as I heard it I was tapping my little feet
Begin the Beguine drifted gently from the stage
In 1938 this song was all the rage
Over the Rainbow – oh what a beautiful song
When they played this track I just wanted to sing along
Moon River brought a tear to my eye
It’s a favourite of mine and even now it makes me cry
Moonlight Serenade and In the Mood by the fantastic Glen Miller
American Parade and Little Brown Jug, sure were a crowd thriller
A medley of Beatles songs and then some James Bond Themes
Such wonderful music I shall hear it in my dreams
New York New York chords swiftly came along
The band can’t resist playing a great Sinatra song
Next was Duke Ellington’s Take The A Train
Now I’ve heard that tune I can’t get it out my brain
I am sure that you can see I’ve had the most amazing night
If I told my mum I’d gone ‘Swinging’ she may get a dreadful fright
When you see this poem's title please don’t get it into your head
That something I put in black and white means I’m jumping into bed!
Jan Allison
16th March 2014
Falling asleep , I had a dream, a timeless dream
A wish for me to go wherever I wanted to
I said the sixties and I awoke to the sound of a Green Tambourine
There were messages in the music
With Dylan crying the times they are a changing
I felt alive again, I could change the world
Camelot in the Capitol ending in tragedy
An unpopular war escalated by big business,
Political turmoil, campus riots, a new movement
A new frontier, a lack of apathy, a sense of purpose
God! To be alive, to protest injustice, to effect change
A friendly invasion from across the sea
John, Paul, George and Ringo, James Bond
Psychedelic beauty with flowers in her hair
Peace, love, brotherhood, a time to sing.
Draft cards and bras burning in defiance
Laugh in, Love in, what a time to be alive.
spiritual and cultural numerical figure
thought to be as of the heaven
constellation of seven sisters
reminds the days of the week
consists colours of the rainbow
divine notes on musical scale
total number of seas and continents
snow white runs off to live with dwarves
seven brides for seven brothers
Shakespeare’s man of seven ages
Sinbad the Sailor had same voyages
Ian Fleming had the right ring for James Bond
The world’s favourite number seven
Do you ever think about film characters in the realms of reality?
Think about someone like Grima Wormtounge making Saruman a pot of tea?
What about the eye of Sauron trying to find someone to play monopoly or Frodo, giving the ring to Gollum so he can go just home for tea?
Ever think about the characters with their nail clippers, getting waxed or brushing their teeth?
Imagine Rambo with a lawnmower that’s gone faulty?
Or what about The Terminator assembling IKEA furniture quietly?
Ok, try to picture Deadpool trying to find something to wear to a fancy dress party.
What about the ‘man with no name’ listening to the payment options for a flat-screen TV?
Now, what about James Bond getting pissed on your settee or Jason Bourne, bag in hand, waiting to see if the dog just wanted a pee?
Do you ever think of film characters in the realms of reality or is it just me?
The line of people out the door.
The queue that snaked around the floor.
The building's sleek art deco style.
The carpets' faded plush red pile.
The "Coming Soon" in convex frames.
The "Showing Now" and big star names.
The James Bond pose in poster shots.
The tickets from the kiosk slots.
The heavy doors that often creaked.
The seats on springs that always squeaked.
The fan shaped lights along the side.
The screen that stretched up high and wide.
The smoke that swirled inside the beam.
The shapes and sounds of Pearl And Dean.
The adverts that had overrun.
The trailers for the films to come.
The feature that would come on first.
The sudden pangs of extreme thirst.
The usherette's cool ice cream stint.
The fancy names like Midnight Mint.
The expectations in the place.
The action of the opening chase.
The talking scenes that went nowhere.
The plastic cup beneath my chair.
The glance at watches in poor light.
The stunts and guns and final fight.
The seats that sprung as credits rolled.
The exit doors and night time cold.
What a fella what a lovely fella happened their way
What a generous fella to kindly offer all these gifts and his services for free
He was of the mind to give them some of his grub
But he waited until it got rank and mouldy first
He then offered them a sip of his tea
But thought it best to spit in it first
He was generous with his backhanded compliments
never missed a beat in his dance of deceit
his two faced stance well maintained to entice the flies to his web
Bothered to put on a show to appear likeable and relatable too, what a gent
As he knit picked at their lives and put a spin on every word they uttered
he meant to gently pump them up for intel for reasons known only to himself
A mission that sadly bounced hard and flopped
For that last bit I blame who ever created the character of James Bond
Has the likes of him curtain twitching and meddling for dear life
Convinced every foreign woman wants to get their mits on them, I mean resounding yuck please!
His exotic fare he elaborately served on a bed of fake pleasantly, seasoned with a dash of bogus laughter
He seemed appalled that they could be handed a chance at anything at all
before he got to take at least ten more chances that he doesn't even need
God forbid anyone else aside from him gets any upliftment
Joy should start and end only with him and his kin
and compassion should only ever be pointed his way
He enjoys his loot only when others stay beneath him, and thrives when disparity amounts
There is a hole where this man's soul ought to be
And that's if it was ever there in the first place
Maybe all he ever had is this humongous gaping emptiness
that he has to fill at all odds because its eating him alive
It seems it can only ever be filled by him generously spreading misery and contempt
He tries to fill it with greed and a haughty demeanour
Little does he know it will never suffice
Somethings no amount of wealth can ever buy
Maybe he never got enough hugs as a child
I mean one might be born into abject poverty
but it never stops their parents from raising loving compassionate children, one hug at a time
Sometimes that's all a soul needs to thrive
What a fella, poor fella with a stone for a heart
and pockets weighed down by gold
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