Long Joe Poems
Long Joe Poems. Below are the most popular long Joe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Joe poems by poem length and keyword.
When his father-in-law got him
into the poultry biz in Rhode Island
Joe had not fully contemplated that
first day to market when he
when he failed to truss and bag the birds
properly, a holy-moly cock-up so
when he tossed them into his ’02
Honda Accord LX to parlay
the beasties down 95 South RI,
they managed to wriggle free
the chickens did, got loose
from the burlap sack
the chickens did, flapping anarchy,
and mayhem, and bad policy about
the Aught-Deux’s upscale cabin,
the mad bastard capons pocking
fine leatherette and Boze while
Bad Chicken Farmer Joe flailed away,
fowl and feathers, feathers and fowl
flailing, clawing, at the faux cherry
wheel, finally rip-cording his failed way
down exit 8A for Quonset Point,
where, at the light, the cross-walkers froze
glaciating, mightily at the cockerel mayhem
unraveling inside a popular Midclass Sedan.
Tom Woody and Joe Dimino..Gave me thought.?? Got me
Looking..' this is some-thing to-know.!! I was spurred to
Expand on the Gospel of John, by Toms good comment
Helpfull and strong..Joe's onions..? Er I mean opinions.!!
Well they'd got my thoughts on the roll.!!! Scroll??? About Robin Hood
( and little John..' Or was it John little.??? I essayed a smile
And short internet stroll.' search concluded.' It was as I'd suspected and f A Christian Author was found..
Howard Pyle, so here I was, (on solid ground!!!) We'd connected..A most gifted man I
(Stand in awe) not of Pyle..May I add' yet OF OUR MIGHTY
LORD...!!!) HE is working He has worked He is working
Still.! Through ( Tom Joe and Howard ) in clarity through the
Din..Of this worlds false teaching.. His will.' What have we lost???
A golden epoch When Howard was hot.? A painter a writer
A lifter of faith a man of God.!!! And yet I haste.. To add
There is more.!!! What riches await??? This Great God and
Our Father Lord of all states.' His promise is real He alone
Can deliver.!!! My spirit now on fire..I say (let the ether shiver!)
As whirlwinds in the musicscape that blow so wild,
The duo sang, played guitar, and albums compiled;
Both rocked like vigorous rocks in a rough earthquake,
Their unbreakable records they only did break...!
Played and sang at their very tender childhood age,
Like tornados they shook many a music stage;
Joseph Bonamassa, at only twelve, did plan,
Smokin' Joe Bonamassa - his band he began...!
As though birds of a feather flocking together,
J.L Bonamassa and Beth Hart flew higher;
Like poppies blossomed forth "Don't Explain", and "Seesaw",
The works of the duo made one and all feel awe...!
His works, "Blue Deluxe", "Driving Towards The Day Light",
"Rhymes", and "Fire On The Floor" are like sunlight, bright;
Adorn the altars of Harmonious music,
Cure the physically and psychically sick...!!!
14 May 2023
Joe Bonamassa and Beth Hart Inspiration Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Every morning at a quarter to six, I can hear my he him trotting down the hallway to the bed where I lay, shriveled up under my weighted blanket, so fat and un-tall.
There’s a part of me that should feel sorry for my little Cowboy husband Joe, but the other part is as angry as Sophie Dog, who snarls and snaps when she hears him in the hall.
“Time to get up!” he says in a sing-songy way, being a nice guy, who truly, only ever wanted to be a child, outside, who could laugh and play like a kid with honey bun food.
“Son of a mule’s *******,” I say, in the kindest cowboy-kind of way, knowing he’s going to feed Shark next, and he’d better tip toe as I am in that kind of I-HATE-EVERYBODY-KIND-of-Mood.
Big Joe.
Big Joe.
Big Bad Joe.
“I saw that the baby opossum on the porch was out of food again, so I banged on the window, and he ran off with that little hop-skip he has,” Joe babbles on. “After he left, I took some cat food out. He’s eating it now.” Joe is wearing his best hat, and boots, but I don’t give them no mind.
Son of a horse’s behind, does he always have to yap like a coy dog? I think as I try to get a growling Sophie dog’s butt off of the covers I’m trying to put back over my head, so I can have some peace and QUIET; “Get OUT OF HERE!” I yell, I’m 11 minutes behind!”
Big Joe.
Big Joe.
Big Bad Joe.
Sophie and I get woked up three more times by him, and we chase him out each time, baring our teeth. It reminds me of my early days with my mother who used to be just this damned happy and annoying in the morning. She used to give us pancake rolls. Which means she used to jump on our bed and roll on us making us extra angry before we left for school.
The last time, the final time, the I mean it this time, he brings me my usual Chuck Wagon Caren is hungry as a giant Stegosaurus on speed breakfast. Five pounds of hash-browns, a three egg omelet with bacon, and it damn well better be the exact temp I like, he has learned the hard way Sophie and I are
Very particular about the temp of our bacon. He takes off his 10 gallon hat, sitting it on the bed, and says “anything else, my ladies?” Before we can speak, he magically produces my jalapeno peppers which we dump lavishly over our hash-browns. Yes, he is the perfect cowboy for this fool.
Big Joe.
Big Joe.
Big Bad Joe.
My Friend...Joe De Mino
Dedicated to a true friend here. I have but
I few.
Joe is one of them.
Thank you for your Poetry and fearlessness.
You make me have faith, there are more like
you who will make the USA sane again!
J_is for his JOY and stand for JUSTCE.
O_is for his OPENNESS, so admired!
E_ is for ENDURANCE and his outlooks
on ETERNITY.
D_is for his DEDICATION to truth.
E_ is for EMBRACING America.
M_ is for his love of MANKIND.
I_ for INTEGRITY, his words and soul so true.
N_ is to thank him for his NOURISHING my soul
O_is for being ON the RIGHT Path...you go, Joe!
Love,
Pangiota
9/9/2021
my best friend knows my stories, has my back, laughs with me
He and I share two dogs, they are our babies, Maxie and Maddy
We are silly enough to call ourselves their mommy and daddy
Been together for fifty-seven years, my best friend and me
My best friend misses me when I am gone, which is a rarity.
We are evenly matched in wit and wisdom, in complete parity.
My friend and I both have hazel eyes and dark hair, but I dye mine.
We take turns napping now, because babies want one up all the time.
There are so many reasons that I love my best friend, impossible to choose.
He knows me better than anyone else; can find anything I misplace or lose.
Knows what foods to buy, so he does the grocery shopping.
He also does the laundry, this man is a dynamo who is forever hopping.
We can finish each other’s sentences,
so claim we are redundant all the time.
I guess the best thing about my best friend
is that since 1968 he has been mine.
Some are written to tug at heart strings;
Some are written to tickle funny bones;
Some are written as romantic love themes;
Some are written about being all alone.
Diversity is my objective;
Creativity, my artistic aim;
I am just your regular average Joe,
With no credentials or writing fame.
I hide behind the mantra
That I write simply to please myself;
Not admitting out loud to anyone,
Dreams of poems adding to my wealth.
There are many others out there
Who behave just like me;
Pouring their souls into rhyming words
And calling it poetry.
Very few will be successful
And achieve wide acclaim,
But lacking recognition
We’ll all keep writing just the same.
So I’ll keep creating average poetry,
By a regular, average Joe,
And hang on to my day job,
But of my dream I won’t let go.
You can tell who writes from the heart -- there is a living quality to those works transcending mere Intellectualism.
He walks with his heart on his sleeve,
so us poets can find reprieve
He is always a verse-maker with creative flair
and his mind works like a sieve
Joe is a souper who is no duper he's real,
as real as the heartfelt poems he weaves.
Dimino I quote says, " In fact all of love,
cannot fit on a shelf nor a continent in itself.
His soul is so grand that it soars,
like a kite in full height, ...like a prayer.
Joe is a string of pearls lit up by the dazzle of his stay,
when he phrases his stories just right,
he brings forth so much light.
Lost in the past, my thoughts collide,
how one so gallant could survive
three wars. He braved them, death- defied,
and left his place in history
Yet, time would take his breath away,
without fanfare, one winter's day
Death's coldest draft came through these floors,
and took more than a glimpse of him.
It now seems wrong, to come right in,
to trespass on the throne of life,
quietly lived beyond a fence,
where thirsty rows of cornstalks wait,
like sentries at a soldier's wake
I hesitate, to disgrace the gloom
open the drawers, to snoop, and sort
The pruning through the worn and torn.
My hands are able, but my heart declines
what isn’t mine, to toss, to find, to mark, and label
Whispered breaths, like weaving looms,
are stories that he told me then.
And how he watched his children play...
The ones who never came again,
to see him at the very end.
The dark descends, and I must go,
but some of him remains, I know
in every shadow of this room.
I'm glad I knew the man called Joe
_____________________________________________
1/13/15 For Giorgio's Contest: "Sketch a Character"
By Carrie Richards
By Joe Walsh, but he wrote them both just for me.
I've corresponded with Joe Walsh frequently.
Should you ever come across this famous celebrity,
give this shout out to him, "Hey Joe! BILLYtheKidster says, "How Ya Doin?"
He'll smile and nod his head most likely. He'll know right away your meaning excactly.
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Life of Illusion
Sometimes
I can't help but feeling that I'm
living a Life of Illusion,
and oh why can't we let it be
and see through the hole in this world of confusion.
I just can't help but feeling I'm living a Life of Illusion.
POW! Right between the eyes,
oh how nature loves her little surprises.
WOW! It all seems so logical now,
It's just one of her better disquises,
and they come with no warning, nature loves her little surprises.
CONTINUAL CRISIS!
Hey, don't ya know it's a waste of your day caught up in endless solutions
that have no meaning, just another hunch based upon jumping conclusions?
Caught up in endless solutions. Back up cause it's a world of confusion.
I'm Living a Life of Illusion.
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Things
I like to take things one step at a time,
one foot in front of the other.
I like to think things will all work out fine
and follow along behind the other.
.....To Be Continued.
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