Long Lin Poems
Long Lin Poems. Below are the most popular long Lin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lin poems by poem length and keyword.
Theme for collaboration suggested by Tim Smith
Two enormous old toads crossed the road
On Tom’s back lounged Thomasina toad
Both are ugly and warty
Thomasina’s so naughty
As her bowels on his back she’d download
06-16-17
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
When Thomasina toad dumped on old Tom
He thought her poop explosion was a bomb
He hopped in the air
gave her a mean stare
shouting, "I'm not taking you home to Mom!"
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Ribbit rubbit robbit 'n ro
this crazy toad has got to go
She's turning quite mean -
Fifty shades of green
No time to chat but still does crow
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
"Why don't we do it in the road?"
Said Thomas, the old horny toad
Thomasina hissed,
"Get a load of this!"
and a "blessing" on him bestowed
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
Thomasina was on a road trip
Her taxi was Tom's back she'd grip
But she strained as she held
And her bottom expelled
So she said "I've just left you a tip"
WRITTEN BY RAY GRIDLEY
Tom and Thomasina were the perfect pair
They were ancient toads without a care
He had a huge wart
She gives a mean fart
Anyone in her vicinity better beware!
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
Now Tom was an over achiever
He wanted the lady, not leave her
He sprayed his back with Scotch-Guard
and rubbed down with lots of lard
the dumper was now the receiver
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Tom gave Thomasina the boot
Got sick from the smell of her poot
told her to get lost
right after he tossed
She gave him the one finger salute
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
Thomas and Thomasina loved to hear
the waterboatmen rubbing their gear
Thomas tried and started to croak
causing Thomasina to choke
you two will never get it right I fear
WRITTEN BY SEREN ROBERTS
When T'sina hopped on for a ride
Old Thomas reminded his bride,
"Though you're my sweet dish,
on the road we'll get squished",
"Just do it!" was her terse reply.
WRITTEN BY CRAIG CORNISH
Thomasina and Tom a heavy load
Lingered a little too long on the road
He could have kissed her all night
shocked at the oncoming lights
Croak and ribbit was heard; two flattened toads
WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER
PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME ANY SUBMISSIONS FOR THE COLLABORATION
06-16-17
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Not For Contest
The first time I met Madame La Laurie, was in 1832 When she and her third husband (Dr. Louis La Laurie) purchased me. My first impression of Madame La Laurie was that she was soft spoken, of fine breeding, and very beautiful.
Upon her arrival, she wasted no time filling every nook and cranny at 1140 Royal Street with the finest furniture and china that money could buy. No one looking at the plain exterior of this house, would ever expect such opulence within it walls.
She wore the latest fashions from Paris with a flare beyond rival, even by the most inducted social lights of the hour, which did not go unnoticed. Both men and women, would stop in their tracks to gaze upon this regal beauty as she strolled down the main streets of New Orleans.
Soon, with the aide of her husbands connections through his practise, she, gained acceptance into the higher circles of the community and began hosting what would become, the most sought after dinner invitations in all of New Orleans.
This was the one side of Madame La Laurie that the world saw, but it was I, who bore witness to the other side. NEVER could anyone have ever imagined the atrocities this women committed in her chamber of horrors on the 3rd floor as she maimed, tortured and murdered any slave that displeased her.
~~~
I was burned badly, when one slave, wanting to end his misery, set a fire in the kitchen, finally bringing her reign of terror to and end, where upon she fled in her hell driven carriage, into the night, never to be seen again.
Today, I stand here at 1140 Royal street, completely unrecognizable. I have a different face now. The only thing left one would recognize from that day, would be the old path that runs between me and the adjacent house.
Lush green foliage now grows along its edge, in what I like to think, a remembrance to the tortured souls who died here.
Between these brick walls
Bright light filters from above
Old seeds bloom again
BUT...IF YOU DARE to walk between these walls, you...like me, THAT OLD HOUSE IN NEW ORLEANS, might see the apparitions of the tortured souls still residing there.
~~~
Poetry form: Haibun
For the contest, A House In New Orleans, sponsor, Lin Lane
PLACED SECOND
A nubile young vicar named Jude
Was seen swimming, totally nude
The bishop said WOW
Just look at you now
Your assets - they need to be viewed!
Fiction write!
07-05-17
Invited him home for a drink
A toast as their glasses did clink
Robes down on the floor
Performing a chore...
How far will this story now sink.
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
The vicar bent over to pray
The bishop could not look away
So for his protection
Took up a collection
A robe now conceals his display
WRITTEN BY CHRIS GREEN
I think this story about being nude will sink low
I will tell on those guys, all I know
Those two men are not holy
The bishop's roly-poly
And the vicar used to be in a nude girly show
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
The bishop was feeling romantic
The vicar thought the man pedantic
When the vicar turned around
To give the bishop a frown
The bishop gasped, "Lord, you're gigantic!"
WRITTEN DALE GREGORY COZART
Said Jude, will we both go to hell-
Said bishop, you never can tell
But please will you turn
I've got carpet burn
And my knees are beginning to swell
WRITTEN BY GARY SMITH
As the bishop continued to stare
He thought such a body's not fair
To see the nude vicar
was hard on his ticker
and soon he had to change underwear
WRITTEN BY ROGER ADAMS
Mother Teresa told me so
In the heaven we’ll dance too slow
If you want to come
Bring us some Rum
Otherwise you may stop and go
WRITTEN BY PASHANG SALEHI
btw... What would the Pontiff say?
Would there be hell to pay?
Or would the Pope
just drop the soap
and hope he'd be invited to play
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
When suddenly a knock at the door
they decided they'd rather ignore
in walked the pope,
joined in the group grope
next day they were all saddle sore
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
The pope thought it not at all freakly
when asking the other men meekly
that if they were game
and would do the same
they could set up appointments weekly
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Jude's assets developed so well
As the bishop could obviously tell
But you might be surprised
How it grew to that size
Well, he used it to ring the church bell
WRITTEN BY RAY GRIDLEY
07-06-17
Memories of Our Summer Romance: A Collaboration
Today I've been savoring vignettes of summer memories
that I've kept folded within the safe haven of my heart.
Your comforting touch, warmer than a summer breeze
was my purpose in life; contained in my every thought.
I cherished all of our twilight saunters along the beach,
and recall the tenderness of your lips with each gentle kiss.
The distance between us, you were the first to breach.
But I never expected our summer romance to end like this.
Our lust for life and each other shifted by summer's end.
We'd fallen in love, one stronger than granite, we vowed.
A small plastic ring, you placed upon my finger as a friend,
then whispered, "I love you." You said the words aloud.
Even mountains made of stone can erode and fall apart.
Time takes its toll, leaving behind brittle parts of the past.
How do I explain to the ache still inside my bruised heart
that some summer romances were never meant to last?
This eager heart remembers your kisses and softest touch.
Those mellow new dawns upon the windblown sandy beach.
That long moonlit night when I declared, "I love you so much."
And you my darling, that night swore better love to me teach!
I cherished the way you promised to give me your beautiful life.
You stood in that pale blue gown awaiting my affectionate kiss,
Swearing by every means, you would end my hurt and strife.
It is of these precious recollections that I choose to reminisce.
O' lord, every fairy princess, your beauty would've out shown.
You swore to me an oath of love as if it was your marriage vow.
I beg, tell me why you left me like a wind turned hellish blown?
Was our love making the kind that disappointed you somehow?
A promise of us eternally has now crumbled like a fallen fence
And every newborn basking dawn capsized like a sinking boat.
You, my sweetheart, were you not truly happy with this prince?
Are memories of us together just verses of poems I once wrote?
A collaboration by Robert Lindley and Lin Lane
Note. Lin, it has indeed been a true joy to compose with you again.
Your magnificent verses sing into this old poet's heart and soul.
The beauty and heart you put into those verses are truly exceptional and very evident of a master poet's hand and pen. God bless.
.
amin
amine (i'm losing it people...lol; it's pronounced amin)
lin
line(can one imagine, english lit teacherz, instructing their students to draw a 'lin', down the center uv their note pads) that's right, i spelled it lin, instead
uv line <-long "i"
spin
spine(or, can i take the car for a spine)
win
wine(i'm thirsty, may i have the flask uv win) <- ;)
pin
pine (i'm the cultivator uv pin nuts)
feminin<--- that's nin
feminine<-that's nine, long "i"
i speak english precious readerz, i'm still unto this day, confused with the english vocabulary, and i can't be coxed into believing, that the third syllable
in feminine, iz not pronounced "nine"<-long "i"
fem-i-nine. short i's are pronounced "i" az in, it
long i's are pronounced "i" az in, 'I' belong to her (did ;)
Iodine, turpentine...thank Yahweh i do, in
Yeshua's name, for; "poetic license", whut would i do dear poets!
Therefore, for those who indulge mine writes, know that...
"james' "feminine" iz pronounced, "fem-i-nine" az in #'9'
i should have shared this, long ago....much luv, me ;)
"This Spring"
spoke i
to
mine feminine
whom
mine feminine
"would marriage
cause yourn sing"
"cross the t's
and dot the i's"
'fore i close for the night
mine eyne"
"yes"
said shez
"yes
yes"
"it's yes"
"it's yes"
And off went
theirn green
mine Winter dreamz
dream after dream
after dream
;)
In Dreams, Her Spirit Sallied Forth: with Lin Lane
Through frigid months, she waited for Spring rains
to give relief and ease heartbroken pains,
Nature will award that which Life commands
placing her true love, in its gentle hands.
O'sweet promise of passion's fine delights,
candlelight dinners and intimate nights.
With eager dreams her spirit sallied forth.
Away from winter's chill, in the far North.
Countless, were the eventides spent in dread
Praying he'd stay safe 'fore lying abed
She wished on stars in darkened Winter skies
as tears pooled in her melancholy eyes
Arctic winds blustered; through tall pines they'd blow,
layers of oceans, in white waves of snow
In Wintry dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Away from winter's chill, of the far North.
Pictures sent from her beau, her Southern man
whose dashing looks, deep blue eyes and bronzed tan,
had her heart remembering their first kiss
Without regret, love said, "Hold onto this!"
To wake with dawn's sweet warmth, upon her face
would ease her sorrow and heartache erase.
In ardent dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Beyond the frosty chill of the far North.
She brushed her hair, raven tresses fell
Her firelight shadow evidenced the swell
Softly, she hummed, cradling her unborn child
A motherly instinct that brought forth a smile
Having a babe, they had both long revered
That he'd be back in time, she deeply feared.
With anxious dreams, her spirit sallied forth.
Further from winter's chill of the far North.
She was haunted by his voice in a dream
and awoke with the sound of her own scream
Rain, her companion, on an April morn
Pains let her know their child would soon be born
Alone, she prayed that she'd know what to do
In the door strode a man; eyes of deep blue.
No longer a dream, her man had come forth
To deliver their child in the far North.
11-01- 2018
Thank you for writing with me yet again after such a long break my friend. Your invitation to do another collaboration was a great gift and a blessing given to me. I sincerely appreciate such great kindness as well as your great advice given on poetry/editing. As such shows great talent and true poetic heart. You magnificent verses makes this a truly golden poem.
God bless always..
Dedicated to a fine poet on soup, Lin Lane
-------------------------------------------------
I shook hands with my brother and bade him farewell
Then set off on my journey away from this hell
Mexico I’d head for and buy a small farm
Meanwhile back in town the guards raised the alarm.
A posse they assembled to help track me down
But saw some Apaches and hightailed it back to town
It was far from over, the Pinkertons were brought in
Determined they were, to carry out the hanging.
After three days riding my horse became lame
It slowed down my escape that made me fair game
Sold my horse at Santa Fe and boarded a train
Vowed I’d never come back to America again.
Two whole years went by and I was living free
Thought they’ve given up now, they’ll never find me
Bought a farm, met a girl, a beautiful senorita
Had two children both girls, Anna and Conchita.
One day I went to town to buy some supplies
The Pinkertons were there, I couldn’t believe my eyes
They arrested me at gunpoint and they took me to jail
I strongly protested my innocence but to no avail.
Spent a week in the jail while they sorted deportation
Paperwork completed, headed for the railroad station
After a long journey we arrived back in Colorado
They had the noose ready, they were raring to go.
All over the state the news was all about me
The Pinkertons just loved their new found glory
The night before the hanging I heard guns blazing
What happened after that was truly amazing.
About a hundred desperado's invaded the town
Burst into the jail and told me to lie down
The sound was deafening as they shot at the lock
The Pinkertons stood speechless, they were in shock.
I went out into the street and a voice said to me
“We only found out because of the publicity”
Then out of the shadows came a face I knew well
My twin brother once more had rescued me from hell.
He said “join our gang and we’ll ride far away”
I said “crimes not for me and one day you’ll pay”
Rode back to Mexico to round up my family
Then headed to Brazil where I now live and I’m free.
Lin suggested a part deux so I was inspired to write a sequel, thanks Lin.
* Collaboration of Limericks written by Jan Allison,
Tom Cunningham, Tania Kitchin and Lin Lane
Here's a news flash, the latest scoop
There are parasites in the soup
AI bottom feeders
Poet superceders
Those who cannot write worth a poop
Artificial intelligence is smart
But never uses words found in the heart
Some dolts use it to cheat
Thinking they are discreet
We should hit them in their butts with a dart
They say AI is here to stay
But plagiarism is another way
Some may copy/paste Poe
Or other greats you know
Add their name, it's sorted way hey!
We know you're fake and using AI
Your poems are nothing but a lie
Wanting to be cool
but instead, a fool
Now you can just leave our site, goodbye!
Some poets get Poem of the Day
It's AI, (of course they don't say)
AI contest "winners"
Are poetry sinners
Does admin prevent them - no way!
Real poets write using only their hand
AI users need more'n a reprimand
Deleting their accounts
'fore their winning surmounts
There should be a way they could all be banned
Stay put, no need to get out of bed
Or have a thought in your empty head
So, just ask Alexa
And she'll write it for ya
A shame you can't use your brain instead
What is your real poetry name?
As fake poems seem to be your game
All Plagiarism and AI
We're really not sure why
Your page is pathetically lame
Pestilence borne in the form of AI
Not of Biblical proportion but why
do you have need to chouse
Poets' concern and rouse
the community to feel so awry
On the day AI begins its world rule
People will still call each other a fool
Is the human race then doomed
AI will have us all groomed
To serve them as lowly slaves, a footstool
I asked a generator to write a Limerick, its response was...
An AI that wrote with great flair,
Could craft limericks beyond compare.
With rhythm and rhyme,
In a jiffy, each time,
It brought smiles to faces everywhere!
This was my response
No! au contraire, AI generator
Not everyone smiles at your creator
I will admit you're quick
but it's deceptive schtick
You're a bad poet's ego inflator
Today I've been savoring vignettes of summer memories
that I've kept folded within the safe haven of my heart.
Your comforting touch, warmer than a summer breeze
was my purpose in life; contained in my every thought.
I cherished all of our twilight saunters along the beach,
and recall the tenderness of your lips with each gentle kiss.
The distance between us, you were the first to breach.
But I never expected our summer romance to end like this.
Our lust for life and each other shifted by summer's end.
We'd fallen in love, one stronger than granite, we vowed.
A small plastic ring, you placed upon my finger as a friend,
then whispered, "I love you." You said the words aloud.
Even mountains made of stone can erode and fall apart.
Time takes its toll, leaving behind brittle parts of the past.
How do I explain to the ache still inside my bruised heart
that some summer romances were never meant to last?
This eager heart remembers your kisses and softest touch.
Those mellow new dawns upon the windblown sandy beach.
That long moonlit night when I declared, "I love you so much."
And you my darling, that night swore better love to me teach!
I cherished the way you promised to give me your beautiful life.
You stood in that pale blue gown awaiting my affectionate kiss,
Swearing by every means, you would end my hurt and strife.
It is of these precious recollections that I choose to reminisce.
O' lord, every fairy princess, your beauty would've out shown.
You swore to me an oath of love as if it was your marriage vow.
I beg, tell me why you left me like a wind turned hellish blown?
Was our love making the kind that disappointed you somehow?
A promise of us eternally has now crumbled like a fallen fence
And every newborn basking dawn capsized like a sinking boat.
You, my sweetheart, were you not truly happy with this prince?
Are memories of us together just verses of poems I once wrote?
A collaboration by Lin Lane and Robert Lindley.
*Robert, it's been far too long since we shared our poetic thoughts. Thank you for graciously accepting my verses and transforming them into "ours."