Long Marty Poems
Long Marty Poems. Below are the most popular long Marty by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Marty poems by poem length and keyword.
Don’t tell Donna that Ted said that Marty
was…..
If I had a dollar for every time I heard some version
of this ridiculousness today, I would not have to
come to work with these gossip mongers.
Ring. Ring. It is Linda, the bookkeeper at the next desk.
She cannot turn and talk to me, because she is
telling tales about Sheila who sits less than ten feet
behind us.
I laugh politely at the end of the tale, hoping
she will let me get back to my bill-paying. But no,
she now has a story about Jacque.
Off the phone I write two checks. Brring Brring
The supervisor glares at me. We are supposed
to get the phone after the first ring. It might be
one of our vendors or our stores. We pay bills
for a chain of stores.
I grab the phone. It is Jacque, who is telling me
stories about Linda. None of them nice ones.
They both want to sit with me at lunch, but not
with the other one at the table. I slink out with
my lunch and eat in my car again, third week in
a row.
The supervisor comes out and raps on my window.
I roll it down about an inch.
"You are not supposed to eat in your car," he tells me.
I'm hanging out on New Year's Eve
With my pal Al and Stoner Steve
Just preparing for the party
At the house of our friend Marty
The things we needed for the cruise
A bag of weed and ice cold brews
So when we got our heads just right
We journeyed forth into the night
Halfway there we spied a lady
Thought she must be pushing eighty
We asked if she could use a ride
She nodded then and smiled wide
We wondered where she was going
Said anywhere the booze was flowing
We invited her to be our guest
And drove her straight to Marty's nest
Once introducing to the crowd
Old Grandma started getting loud
And faster than the eye can see
Started downing shots one two three
She then spoke wildly of her past
I'll tell you true she was a blast
And well before the night was through
Had taught my friends a thing or two
We all saw that she was able
To drink us all beneath the table
Not slowing down the night went on
Till all the booze we had was gone
Morning came and the sun came up
Old Grandma held an empty cup
Said I'd love to stay but as it goes
Gotta find somewhere the booze still flows
It was Timi crying that she was Hurt
She saw Del with the Little Town Flirt
Eddie had the Summertime Blues
Carl was brushing his Blue Suede Shoes
Fat's said hey look at me I'm Walkin'
That left Chuck Reelin' and Rockin'
Dion was dating Runaround Sue
Sammy was wearing Lavender Blue
Johnny came from The Poor Side of Town
The Dovells were screaming You Can't Sit Down
The Impressions told everyone It's All Right
For Sam it was just Another Saturday Night
Ray felt bad because he was Born to Lose
Chuck Don't Want To Hang up his Rock and Roll Shoes
Paul crooned You Are My Destiny
Ben asked that you Stand By Me
Hank said Let's Go, Let's Go, Let's Go
Marty asked where to, maybe El Paso
Bobby had a date with Wild One
Ventures warned him, Walk, Don't Run
Dack and Dee Dee climbed The Mountain's High
Frankie stated Big Girls Don't Cry
The Shirelles were doing what Mama Said
Little Anthony cried I'm Going Out Of My Head
Elvis pleaded Don't Be Cruel
Leslie told him She's A Fool
Roy asked if he could be her Candy Man
Jimmy was already her Handy Man
While Frankie was asking everyone Why
Sue said Sad Movies Always Make Me Cry
Betty stated Shoop Shoop I's In His Kiss
Dean remarked Memories Are Made Of This.
This follow up was for Fred and Sue. God Bless you all.
Would you believe the site wouldn't let me post the name of the Mountain's high
male singer, deeming it obscene.
Melodious Marty sweet got smart
He thought one day to share his heart
Shining it here and there he dreamed, of
Showin' the blaze in his blazin' blue genes.
So reaching deep smart Marty said MY!
"...How the world can, and how can I...."
"...How in the world can I...."
She wrote...
Using just one and only one note
Write the rhyme to a love Divine
And send without doubt,
The message sub-lime
To be assured... that
It's found in Time.
"...and How...." it began...
Burning questions, forget the answer
Ignition triggers, a dancing mummer
Guise in disguise, tells a tale of rumor
Wiser in the eYe, hears a truth in humors...
"...How the world can... is a simple question..."
"...Why we've knot, is the complex answer..."
Melodious wrote as the midnight dancer
Rhyming ART with a daylight caster
Entertain smart in the garden of Eden
And melody heals a damaged reason
"...How,
the Word can..." she wrote.
Q!... It's a note....iQ
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qi
Form:
SHENIKA SIMS
i guess i am on a pathway to light
i put on my contentment perfume and just run and jump
i do not know that i am free
i only know that i notice that i am not free
for too long this man has been the death of me
it is now time for me to come alive and let the little boy go
knowing this now, it is allowing me to grow
this pussycat of mine will remain closed for renovations
my yorkie is all the company i need right now
she is my new travelling buddy for she loves me without judgment or ridicule
i begin to become reacquainted with myself
i guess i am on a pathway to light
MARTY KING
i guess i am on a pathway to light
i omit and dissipate the damage the bullies made on the soul of my confidence
there comes a time when you have force the clutches of fear to back off and take back control
it is then that you see things in life anew and enable yourself to humbly grow
for oh too long i have allowed those bullies to beat me down into full submission
i now say NO MORE....I MUST ALLOW ME TO BE ME!
God now fully engraved and forever still in my life, He becomes my tour guide
my life has come full circle with history stickers of different states and realms
however, i am working on myself and my life has not been the same
what i dig most about it all is that I AM NOT THE SAME!
i begin to become reacquainted with myself
i guess i am on a pathway to light
SHENIKA SIMS
the soil of my soul is so open to growth right now
i welcome the knowledge and the strength that it all inspires
once upon a time i was writing disciplinary sentances a thousand times or more
now i am being quoted for the purpose of the betterment of others a million times or more
if that is not Reason enough to give Him Thanks and Praise, then my People, narcolepsy is a habitual and a pathological liar that blockades
MALAKI MEZCLAR
there is no particular reason
there does not have to be a spot in any season
i just Thank Him and Procede....
much obliged....that is all the space i need
MARTY KING
what is waking up if i am not thankful
whether with volume or in quietude,
it is He that Ables Me to Be....
therefore I AM....Thankful
some may say that too simply i pray
do i have to have five dollars and be abstract
i shake my head to myself and with ease i tell Him....THANK YOU....
there is no feeling like That Particular Aftermath....
it inspires me to lay me down to sleep Happily and Carelessly Monotonous....
SHENIKA SIMS
going in circles in my mind
jumping over puddles
doing carwheels in multiples of three
thinking of you can't you see
my artwork has more positive themes
my heart medicinally skips beats so it seems
cannot wait to pack suitcases
go so many outfits, bathing suits, and...shoot....clothes to look through
i cannot believe this kind of love i feel for you
i feel like a trampoline with lipstick because i wanna jump your bones
see, you got me saying silly (edit) like that
i am thinking quite unladylike thoughts right now as a matter of fact
however you have been respectful and for the first time in a long time i feel like a lady
renewed, revitalized, and reborn....going in circles in my mind
MARTY KING
going in circles in my mind
got sam cook requesting cupid to draw back that bow
well miss cupid shot straight for my brain and woke me up
the first lovely vision i saw when i did....well....was you
while thinking of you, i find myself feebly attempting to skip rocks in a lake
i find myself jumping up and all up in the spirit making the earth shake and quake
i look at the clouds and see forms of arrows through hearts and people kissing
it took me about twenty some odd years to realize that it is you that i've been missing
while others were steadily moving, here in this dusty corner i sat
i cannot believe that i chose to do ridiculously senseless stuff like that
oh yeah, i am thinking thoughts like a dude, but i choose to sincerely respect you
furthermore, you have been so accepting of Me as My Self, and i have never experienced that as a man
renovated, recognized, and reborn....going in circles in my mind
The wind cooled Witchy’s pumpkin-orange,
yummy orange,
handsome face.
She rushed so worried south-east through a lace
forest so so silent
(in her pink boar shoes) watching so silent.
Fog came. Wind got worse.
Her conical crown and wide brim hat remained.
It was made of a rabbit named Morse
There Witchy wasn’t at all entertained!
Suddenly the wussy fog flung itself away
in all directions.
Plants sneezed. They felt harebrained and grey.
Leaves cheered. No affections!
Why? The wind had died in all directions.
She guided herself aside the truly up (so glad)
about river rolling mad,
and hopped up onto a perma-tanned sad
log (she worried she’d get
her titanium dioxide-stained muumuu wet).
On a royal silver tray called Rummy
sat like a medical dummy
three stripped bare
vacuum cleaners didn’t stare.
'BRRRM, BRRRM, BRRRM,' one said kindly,
the one with the less parts.
‘Hello, hello, hello,’ Witchy said kindly.
Time slothed by (she wasn’t even half way to Hiss).To
her, Hiss
was a true place of bliss.
Soon she was so bored.
Not even all the great thoughts about being
at the party could cure her from being bored.
So for fun she jumped with zoom
through a picture frame four times her height,
and smacked onto the floorboard of a bedroom.
All she could say was, ‘UMMMM. HUHHHHH?’
A blueberry woman, who was old,
and was planting many totally fast-growing gold
coloured veronica plant seeds in old
rotting skirting boards (totally old!)
ignored Witchy’s questions: ‘Where am I?
How can I
go through a picture frame and end up in here? How will I get back out of here
to the party?’
The woman just dropped (Oh Marty!)
and napped about a guy named Marty.
Veronicas grew without water.
Some pretties wallowed with their new daughter.
No sign of future slaughter.
Witchy was very angry, very scared, and blue.
‘What if I NEVER get out,’ she complained.
What else could she do?
The floorboards went CRACK! CRACK
CRACK!
MARTY KING
when i needed a friend
all skies were black
my head could only bend down
i could never look up
then came you as sunshine
i realized that you were God's Sign
light came into the darkest part of the mine
Friend Till The End and Now I Ascend
SHENIKA SIMS
when i needed to be loved
the devil mainly controlled the weather
every bone on my body felt broken
immovable was i and feeling eternally still
then you came as a true blue sky
everything low all of a sudden was lifted high
the heaviest weight was lifted off of all of me like a much needed sigh
your were my Push when all and everything in life shoved
At the end of each summer day,
while laying there in my bed,
I placed a small transistor radio
under the pillow near my head.
Each night that the Reds did play
I listened to the baseball game;
Joe Nuxhall did the play-by-play -
youngest player ever, adding to his fame.
They were the Big Red Machine;
often in first place;
Pete Rose knocking out another hit;
Dave Concepcion fielding with grace.
Ken Griffey - the father -
roaming the outfield grass;
George Foster hitting home runs;
Joe Morgan sprinting in a dash.
Tony Perez, so consistent;
Cesar Geronimo had the perfect name;
Johnny Bench squatted behind home plate,
catching another game.
Through my little transistor radio,
Marty Brennaman and Joe Nuxhall brought it all to life,
as the sun faded away to darkness
on those hot Ohio summer nights.
And at the end of every night,
Joe Nuxhall would sign off all alone,
saying, "This is the old lefthander rounding third,
and heading his way on home. "