Long Marco polo Poems
Long Marco polo Poems. Below are the most popular long Marco polo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Marco polo poems by poem length and keyword.
I'd like to see Venice,
the city of eternal peace
to which poets and painters flock;
the sunset' hues are impressive at dusk.
I'd like to ride in a gondola,
and admire La Serenissima
while the venetian gondolier sings a familiar song
that everybody loves...row gentler as you sing!
I'd like to join the Venice Carnival, and be somebody's handsome groom,
on the most eerie night, when there's a crowd in the Marco Polo ballroom...
in the palace everybody wears a vague mask and a bizarre costume;
be aware of the friendly ones who, with charm, have the intention to lure.
I'd like to watch the luminiscent moon
rise over the Dome of Saint Mark's Basilica at night;
and for once without a visible, depressing spot...
it should smile at me while I croon.
I'd like to embrace that lovely woman
with eyes as green as the grass of a meadow;
and will she recognize me and forgive me again,
or sadly remain a broken-winged sparrow?
I'd like to bask in the warm sunshine
as the huge Adriatic sky becomes a real light blue;
and under Il Ponte dei Respiri I will glide
in that gondola as she lies next to me with a smile so true.
Translation: La Serenissima ( The Most Serene ),
Il Ponte dei Respiri ( Bridge Of Sighs ).
Entered in Linda-Marie Bariana's contest,
" Viva Vacation "
Let's ponder last time Rego the ego was over yonder in the Iberico peninsula ..our hero was fonder of the wonder of Ronda but now does wander through the beauty & fruity booty that cutie Oporto does bestow… (in house joke...there is no radio embargo for this rhyming cargo so back to you in the studio)
Can't recall if we ever talked at all about how we virtually stalked Porto
A viral spiral as we did dream and scheme of moving there for a mo
Then balked too late deranged climate all changed mate too scorchio
Burned by the rage on the centre stage of a teenage tyro turned pyro
But what do you know ho ho ho…it's the Rego Ego in Oporto show
Jammy mutt strut out of any rut from Redditch hut far & away you yo yo
Smut of getting half cut a holiday foray glut such a sl*t.. a true pro or ho
But tut tut apropos bitter blow new shi**er low an at home sitter can't go
My career did park it… left the market now sign on for giro with my biro
Crow finances a foe.. so woe of ambassadors not in a row you flying solo
We should be tourers toe to toe explorers like Marco Polo with me in tow
As long as about assado not Fardo rather hear a song from Nelly Furtado
Naughtiness not haughtiness to and fro cheeky ebb & flow of going gung ho
Know your next photo will bring the frustration of a great crustacean crescendo
Gasping at the rasping sheen of a lean barbecued sardine no echo of Pinocchio
Ah grasping a calamari safari love the art deco but you can shove the prosecco
No braggadocio clasping fino or nerdy vinho verde or scarlet harlot starlet tinto
Hard for Euro aficionado as you scoff avocado & lardo tartlet from the mercado
Hope foody bingo is bravissimo dope & bellissimo though know is wrong lingo
So hey ho or nonny no bonny Rego in Porto is brassier than Portugeezer Luis Figo
Bigger teaser & pleaser classier than gusto & bravado of another dynamo Eusebio
Drinking sinking fort-ified wine quaff port like it's a sport holding court on the Douro
Envy piqued oh Rego never a fuddy duddy ruddy cheeked plucky bloody lucky so & so
Spellbound by the shimmering moonlight by the silent lagoon,
the oldest witness to every lover's secrets in enchanted Venice,
whispering soft words, afraid of being stolen by that stranger
who could be a wanderer or an intruder...
the dry leaves, beneath the drooping pine trees,
will crackle if he attempts to hear them too soon!
Moments lived into a silver night,
when the narrow streets are empty and dark
and the gondolas rest at the quite docks,
are as magical as the warm glow in these cheerful eyes;
and if our hands seem so frantic,
our quick thougths may be less romantic!
Following the trail of the ascending moon,
how loneliness is detected in her glance...
if we stare at her melancholic face!
And should we bring her a little comfort
by singing her the tune of a lovely song,
but how long will her presence loom?
Moments lived into a silver night...
are wonderfully remembered through a lifetime,
even more than that one unforgettable kiss...
while the gondolier rows the gondola through the canals
of a city that still withstands the fury of tides;
will another city be as beautiful as this?
We'll die before Venice will completely
disappear into the Adriatic Sea...
so let's cherish these moments of ecstasy,
and leave something to remember us by;
I'll write the words and the melody,
and you will sing it to her sweetly!
Moments lived into a silver night...
linger among these strong and old walls of Venice:
where the legendary Marco Polo slept,
where ordinary and famous people wept;
fall asleep on my chest and feel the sea-breeze,
by morning we'll be awaked by a brilliant light!
Tomorrow comes, and lo and behold
WMD, Weaponry - Middle East stranglehold
Chemical Scuds, conventional too
What will Saddam's madness do.
Visions of - Gulf No 1
Burning wells under our lovely sun
OPEC panic, its not their day
Millions of guns back out to play.
Armada's sailing, many ships
RFA's - make many trips
Tommohawks, 2000 pounders
Shake the earth, humans thunder
Tommo's screech across the sky
Where they land, there's sure to die
The innocents will have their say
As Western Arnaments have their play.
Journalists report on the horrors of war
What the Hell are we fighting for
A barrel of Oil, a bucket of sand
Its not a reality i can understand.
Coalition forces encroach on cities
Where Saddam's men showed no pity
These were his people, they should be alive
As all countries, should live and thrive.
His previous demean, to his Children and men
Like gassed Basra, deathly den
Chemical Ali, on the order of he
Dispicable happenings, in their own country.
Bagdad, capital of mythical age
Bruised and battered by modern rage
Rockets and bullets falling like rain
Killing and maiming, screams of pain.
BBC, Fox News - CNN
Reporting whats right, is it right for them
Troops a searching, for the reasons there their
Weapons of MAD, who actually cares.
Hidden away in deserts of sand
Chemical weapons, poisonous glands
Scud launchers, with conventional heads
Israeli people, cant sleep in their beds
What gives Iraqis, some Arabs too
To do the things, we see they do
Is it scriptures past, transcribed through the years
Now on our doorsteps, forgotten fears.
Through CIA Intellegence in 2002
Drew the path, US troops move through
Down the gun barreled highway, enemies so few
Insurgents not many, taken out as they do
Abrahams spray, thier bullets so fair
To take down the Guard, who should stop us there.
Invasion in place, Marco Polo would say
Like Hanibal, they all have their day
Should they be here, in our country i say
Where will they be tomorrow, i can only pray.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war.php
Stones in life strong like stones,
As a weapon,
As a tool,
Shelter over the heads of souls,
Even beyond the Era of stones,
Stones in plenty and in varieties,
Gems,stones,Gemstones,
Rare,durable,colored,long life and beauty,
Weighed and valued in dots and drops,
A dream for the poor,
A desire for the rich,
Crowns without Gems not a King,not a Queen,
Taj Mahal minus Gems not a world wonder,
Ceylon turned Sri Lanka known Island of Gems,
Marco Polo toured and admired,
The Portuguese,The Dutch,The British much cared,
All stones are not Gems,all Gems are not stones,
In stones Gems,
In people some like Gems!
Teary eyed trying to understand the hate in disguise
a energetic fear of abandonment help veil those lies
I am fed up with this frequency of control and hate
people are so prone to believe authentic love is a bait
unconditional love given they reject and distrust it
accustomed to conditional lovers with a kindness skit
honestly, love is universal and don't have a disguise
It don't judge, reject, harm, control or even denies
unconditional love will not have your heart like a yoyo
dealing with a conditional lovers playing Marco Polo
abused minds conditioned to accept what is given
limited; not knowing it's a bigger agenda of riven
I know being mind, body, soul, and child of love
whether it is from below, mid-heaven or above
embodying love with great intentions for self and all
spreading love no matter the circumstantial call
targeted because that's my mission in this lifetime
plenty of road blocks, but hate has pivot me this time
homeless staying in the cold, but I still offer love to all
help has been hinder/halted so I can stop, regret, and fall
my whole family abused me with many manipulated blames
I will always love them; not allow hate combust into flames
what ever force that uses vessels to instill hateful behavior
they are forgiven knowing controlling my emotions is my savior.
WHERE TO BEGIN I LOVE MAN BECAUSE GOD MADE ME FILLED WITH DESIRE FOR MAN A GIFT TO MAN THERE WAS JOHN TERRY ALFRED HENRY CIRO LARRY ANTHONY CHARLES RETIRED SHERIFF THERE WAS DON HAROLD DON II JOHNNY ROBERT PHILLIP LEVI OH MY GOD I DARE NOT SAY THEE ELEVEN WHITE RUSSIANS EACH TAKING TURNS RIDING THE MECHANICAL BULL THERE WAS RICHARD JUNE BUG LOU WAS INTERESTING HE JUST LOVED TO LOOK HE WAS ALWAYS TOO EXCITE ATTORNEY CHARLIE WILSO.N OVER STRAWBERRY CHEESE CAKE BEN HOPKINS WHOLESALER USED CARS TONY BOLOGNY CAB DRIVER KINGS FROM SAIDI IRAQI KINGS YOUR HIGHNESS WAS THE BEST EVER NOT TO MENTION THE MEETING OF THE MINDS SGT MAJORS WORLD LEADERS CLERGY GOD BLESS THEM FOR BEING TEMPTED BY MY DESIRE ME WOMAN NO MAN COULD RESIST WHY MEN SIMPLY
LOST THEMSELVES IN MY DESIRE BEING AN ENTERTAINING A SHOW GIRL MARIETTA ROXY FOXY I DESIRE PLEASURE OF MAN HELL AM I WRONG I TRULY BELIEVE MAN WAS THE GREATEST GIFT TO WOMAN WHY I WAS ABLE TO BREED 8 TIMES THE JOY OF MAKING A BIG FAMILY HAS ITS PERK AND I ENJOYED EVERY MINUTE OF IT TOO THIS TRULY MAKES ME BLUSH FASCINATING TO SAY THE LEAST SGT SAVOY SGT MICHEAL PFC LITTLE THERE WAS FIRST SGT TOP SGT FIRST CLASS WILLIAMS MASTER SGT CHARLIE COMPANY SGT PERRY SGT HENDERSON MY MY MY SGT MAC GODS GIFT TO WOMAN IS MAN THIS IS MY PERSONAL GIFT FROM GOD BUT THERE ARE TIMES MY DESIRES REACH THE HOLY SPIRIT ON A SPIRITUAL LEVEL BOTH MY EX WERE CHEATERS SO I LEARNED TO LOVE ME MORE THAN MAN I COULDN'T IMAGINE MY LIFE WITHOUT GODS PRECIOUS GIFT OF MAN I CRAVE MAN GOD CREATED ME FOR MAN HIS REASON MAN COULDN'T BE TRUSTED TO BE ALONE SINCE ADAM WAS TRYING TO BREED WITH ANIMALS GOD KNEW ABOMINATION WOULD RUIN HIS EARTH WHO WOULD BE FRUITFUL ME WOMAN 8 KIDS 26 GRAND TWO GREAT GRAND PLEASURE MY REALITY BEING ME WOMAN THANK YOU GOD FOR MAKING ME FOR MAN WOW OH HOW I DESIRE MAN GODS MOST PRECIOUS GIFT TO WOMAN OUTSIDE OF NUNNS BUT I'M QUITE SURE EVEN NUNNS HAVE DESIRE FOR MAN THAT'S WHY THEY PRAY THE ROSARY AT 7 AM EVERY MORNING FLUSHING THE SINFUL NATURE OF BEING TOUCHED BY A MAN WELL I'M NO NUNN MAN UNDER ME ABOVE ME WITHIN ME DESIRE DESIRE THE COMPLETE DESIRE OF MAN AND WOMAN THAT'S GODS GIFT TO ME MORE MORE MORE MAN FOR EVERY WOMAN AND I WANT SECONDS YES PLEASE MARCO POLO I ADORE MAN EVEVY INCH OF MANHOOD REACHES MY DESIRE CREATING IN ME FRUITFULNESS I CAN'T DENY I THINK I'LL HAVE SOME MAN RIGHT NOW WHY NOT
If someone handed you a box with everything in it that you had ever lost
what is the first thing you would look for?
Holiest of things that I could never recapture
like the feel of dad's hand in mine
on a warm summer day when all the world was
time ...
A most sacred memory wrapped in tissue
settled deep inside a box safely locked
Underneath my bed a tarnished locket
that wasn't even mine...
The child within me, the one that got away
nineteen and gone too soon
A monsoon rain that September remembers
soaked and filled with longing,
The face of youth
my brother's Marco Polo voice
inside a chlorinated pool
just before he died
First Marco Polo your soul - don’t ask.
Shake your noodle until it transcends to pasta,
Twist your noodle, it will only hurt for a while
soon it will become your mother tongue.
Recite the hundred words Italians have
for pork, ham, and bacon daily,
never again just say pork, ham, and bacon.
Imagine that your cheap olive oil is champagne,
Lightly sprinkle your vocabulary -
not too oily.
Tomatoes and cheese’s offer you
endless ways to speak with our mouth full
while still sounding refined.
Say ‘Pizza’ as it were in fact
a much longer word.
Swagger as you babble from the top
of your proudly Italianate lungs.
So where do we begin
The din of Indian chagrin
Subcontinent cardinal sin
Forgot how to play spin
Incontinent rot no Ashwin
Saffas got under their skin!
So no Mo Shami or Ishant Sharma
Double whammy now not so jammy
What about Obama calmer karma
Back from Kolpak leader of pack
Is it Heaven or E17 got a stack
Right armer & mockney charmer
Winning grinning skinning spinning attack
Slaying & flaying while playing Simon Says
Avenge those tears from 10 years ago..revenge
Wicket farmer yep cheers Essex’s Mr Harmer
Remember Temba inspired fired the ember
First place won the race for the WTC mace
Dream team scheme everyone a member
And even without their gilded pace ace
No KG Rabada in the Saffa Jaffa Gaffer speed larder
Need 2 metre maneater Marco like Rafa to try harder
Latest greatest tyro narco pyro in the stellar fella Armada
Sneaky hoarder Marco Polo or cheeky marauder Hans Solo
Tip top tourer run scorer tall all thriller no filler..Torquemada
Raw pure southpaw land of the other hand flotilla of Jansen
Saffa’s new slick quick pillar..serial killer like Charles Manson
Let’s end where we did begin..Indian cupboard is rather bare
One savvy Ravi left.. bereft one pace pair with flair through the air
No Ashwin through thick & thin.. slipped on banana skin of spin
Another bish bash bosh whitewash after that Kiwi yippee nirvana
Can still hear the din within of that chagrin at the mandarins sins
Ire..greats retire entire empire on funeral pyre fire - Sinara it's Manana!