Long Megan Poems
Long Megan Poems. Below are the most popular long Megan by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Megan poems by poem length and keyword.
The sweet Megan Markle had that bright sparkle
for she landed herself a true prince
Our dear handsome Harry, was never contrary
But the Queen he had to convince
All Britain is fawning, this is a new dawning
for actress turned royal brings fame
the coffers are filling, and tourism's thrilling
The Duke and the Duchess are game
The wedding's now history, no longer a myst'ry
the world watched each detail in awe
this couple got hitched as each lose thread got stitched
There was not a single guffaw
Traditions respected, through some circumvented
the bride added much to the day
A curtsy forgotten, does not make her rotten
Just strong willed as some critics say
Her dress was straight lined, demure and refined
the make-up was simple and sweet
Prince George and Charlotte, they made us all gloat
Their goodness must warrant a treat
I'm happy for Harry, he is a dear chappy
his smiles tell the world all is well
the pre-wedding drama, that long pause or comma
forgotten, for now all is swell
So the 19th of May was quite a big day
It showed fairy tales still come true
Now young ladies know, to put beauty on show
The next story could be about you.
Eileen Manassian
depression fleeing
she sits at her computer
MySpace has beckoned
sadness engulfs her
the supposed online boyfriend
laughs behind a mask
words like sharp daggers
whore, ****, and no one likes you. . .
her bedroom’s silence
the scream of horror
when her mother finds her hanged. . .
the final setback
a neighborhood mom
deletes the MySpace account
with the boyfriend’s name
Written 7/9/2016 for the Setbacks Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
*This is based on a true story I saw on Cyber-bullying. The culprit was a grown woman along with daughters the same age as Megan Meier (the girl in this story whose final setback was to hang herself when she believed it was her supposed online boyfriend who began the vicious attacks on her reputation at My Space). At that time there were no laws against this crime, and the hateful woman went unpunished. See more on the story in notes above.
Fiery sun's endeavors to scorch the buds and blossoms fail
As pre-monsoon drizzles cool and caress the environs
Maia and Laxmi, goddesses of spring, slowly sail
Optimism and adventure spread wings, shushing storm's sirens.
My human form moulded to be born in May merriment
My conscience and consciousness cascade from the divine source.
With the leaven of truth, each word and deed of mine ferment
As the breeze gives breath to this month, love becomes my life force.
Adele, Will Arnett, Megan Fox, and Lenny the Kravitz
How sweet, Rabindranath Tagore too, bloomed in this season!
The labourers, who still are suffering for their birthrights
If He's made me a Mayborn, doesn't God have his reason?
As graces of fruitfulness reach the zenith of goodness
May the almighty, day by day, lead me towards fullness!
What would it be like if you lived in paradise, what would it like if you didn’t have to work for the rest of your life? What would it be like if you could travel the world on a speed boat and have breakfast in a luxury car between the stars? The moon would watch over you and the sun would adore you and clouds would protect you.
What would it be like if you walk in the street and greet all the people that you meet, you will tell them a story of how mankind came from glory and how the chipmunk sleep for fifteen hours in the deep and comes out on groundhogs' day to say that Spring is on the way when winter has just begun.
What would it be like if you had another shot at life and get the chance to write the music of your dreams that keeps bubbling up in the stream. Your lyrics would be true and your ex would come back to haunt you and when you go on stage the crowd would adore you. All the people would follow behind you and every town you go the multitude would go with you.
What would it be like if you go to London to see the show and you met King Charles the 3rd at the Wembley stadium door, you will tell him to bring out all the people from the commonwealth and pack the stadium with a solidarity event.
Music is the life of the town, and it will lift mankind sorrows when the temperature falls down, you would tell him to restore Prince Harry to the throne and cover Megan myrtle with a diamond crown; the meeting must be brief, and you must have food galore in street.
The bars and the pubs will be open, and the beauty queens will come riding through the clouds with golden horses and splendid robes. I can see it in living colors, and I wish I could bring it to life’ once in a lifetime this moment is awarded to mankind, and they will never forget it for the rest of their lives.
I have sat down for a very long time to record this magnificent sound. It is the song that I will sing when my dream invites me to come in; the circle will celebrate, and the square will vibrate, and we will read the odyssey and travel through history.
What would it be like if you board the next flight and meet the owl in the middle of the night? There is so much to say, I have to leave the rest for the next day. Destiny is inviting you to join it for supper, what would it be like if you come today, don't delay.
Headlines are all about the Sussexes and royal Palace news
I hurry past them because I don't care about their issues
Seems to be about betrayal, and which side will win out
Too much attention is paid to them, their money and clout
Everyone has an opinion, and if you differ that's alright,
There's so much more than we know about their plight.
I have no respect Camilla or Charles, adulterers, the pair
It's awful that Harry's long been referred to as the 'spare'
It'd probably be best for everyone if Harry would let it go
I understand, maybe not, the road the Sussexes had to tow
If I chose a side, it would be Megan and ginger-haired Harry
Maybe it's true the Royal family didn't want them to marry.
It could be that race played a role in many of their troubles
That's for them to work out while living in privileged bubbles.
It might be true, I don't know, what tabloids have written
but it seems the young prince and his bride are truly smitten.
It's big news on both sides of the pond now that they moved.
We have our own dissension now that McCarthy's approved.
It was a literal fight for him to become Speaker of the House
He sold his soul for the position, which makes him a louse.
Kissed the ring of Trump after calling him guilty of treason,
There lies the mark of a politician...selfish beyond reason.
I'm so sick of hearing about Donald running again in 2024
Vengeance he seeks against those who oppose his civil war.
I don't buy newspapers or read tabloid gossip magazines
Don't care about royal princes, or their kings and queens
but Americans need leaders who'll uphold our Democracy,
not ones whose bureaucratic words reek with hypocrisy.
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Not For Contest
West Virginian Mountaineer, hill country free,
Born down in a holler to folks of dirt po means.
Heard wind blow wave ‘er wave o’er regal mountain peaks.
Fed on cornpone, biscuits, country gravy, and beans.
White mist over each peak a crown of majesty.
In rich valley below, unique person dwelt.
Admired sprawling mountaineer family tree.
Anyone not ‘bon up ’thar in the hills was suspect.
Ran like a deer, strong as a bear, eyes like a hawk.
Had speck of earth’s riches: smidgen from modern store.
Used outhouse year 'round, often times in the dark!
Worldly things rated low; Evermore got high score.
Shot rifle straight as an arrow flying through the air,
As ray of sunshine finds its way through leafy trees.
Had the stealth of bobcat leaving his secret lair,
Could seek up on someone; unaware presence there.
Honored no pass signs around moonshiner’s grove.
Words sounded odd to some; "Whar, thar, airish out ‘har.
Folks growed "tabaccer, lit oil lamp and wood stove.
Misjudged as brainless; mind could ace lawyer’s bar.
Volunteered one day while wearing worn out jeans.
Proud to be a soldier, as ancestry of yore.
Eager to serve country; had just turned nineteen.
Sent off to hostile land; part of medical corps.
Ten soldiers died when compound was hit one night.
Each one was honored; a national hero.
Military honors; flags, taps, and over flights.
One from West Virginia; Marine, Megan Marlow.
* I'm trying out Halloween 'Harley Quinn' looks *
If light is the fastest thing in the universe,
why is darkness already there when light arrives?
After watching Harry and Megan Sussex grub for ever more cash and attention, I’ve decided that they should start a OnlyFans site.
We’re going to a booze-free dance party.
“You don’t have to drink to have fun.” I assure myself, in the bathroom mirror, but somehow the event sounds like a high school dance.
I’ve been reading the Internet - was it really a giant squid that sank the Titanic?
...
Panpsychism Is a scientific theory postulating that consciousness is part of the fabric of the Universe.
On the theological level, why would God (or nature) create the bitter taste of espresso and vivid, azure skies slashed with rainbow sunsets if stimulating consciousness weren’t important?
“Colors, tastes and smells are no more than names,” Galileo declared 400 years ago. “(as perceptions) they reside only in consciousness.”
Does life exist, as sensors, to experience stimuli for the galactic consciousness?
What's up miss popular? People know about your greed
Ya, got the text. The "Hey, dotard, don't talk to me freak,"
The average joe, and those silly electronics"
Please, Click Itch, labeling others as the smelly geek
So many countless hours cushioning in luxury
Preparing to feed your lust, her dinner platter
Feasting on periodic table and splitting bonding
Then misguided paparazzi ask what’s the matter?
Dr. Gluttony's remedy, a coke and Mentos
Pridefully smiling as other families shatter
Expecting everyone’s contributions to the plate
Because, you are the modern-day narcissistic (*sore)
The search engines have endless pages on the topic
Upon your illusion throne, craving and wanting more
Deep down in the shadows, harbors your anger and wrath
Enviously fishing for a fresh party's primate
Yep, Scarlett, Megan and Kelly all have perfect cups
But don’t worry, over time your bim-bims will deflate
Sorry, Brittany and Jen both have the perfect butt
Though your horoscope says, “glutes are going to inflate”
Ma'am Trash Troll, you have not the cash flow of Uncle Sam
What A disgusting branded pathetic child you are
Your future will be a shabby truck driver's pit stop
Slothfully dreaming of becoming a super star
*Word changed
Updated 5/14/219
-Urban Dictionary-
1.Click Itch - An everlasting feeling of need to start clicking, usually on social sites such as Facebook, Instagram, Google, Pinterest, etc.
2.Dotard - An aging individual who has long lost the ability to make rational sense.
3.Cushioning - A dating technique where along with your main piece you also have several 'cushions', other people you'll chat and flirt with to cushion the potential blow of your main break-up and not leave you alone.
Form:
We all have inner and outer lives.
They’re messy, hopelessly intertwined, and more
than mere mannequins to hang our word-art upon.
I’m supported, in my unwritten life, by a structure
of moods, both affine and counter-expressive. I’m,
in turns, a tightly wound vagabond, an over-busy,
fretful, unhappy liar (for what I will not share) and
a happy, truthful mess (for what I may overshare).
My outer-life is largely academic, and turned with
complete absorption to task, I plow thru the
needed assignments, like a caffeine fueled machine,
You might rightly call outer-me boring. I get it, for
nothing much happens beyond study and life’s
usual maintenances.
But my inner-life is full of action, if desires,
dreams, and internally ranting against the injustices
of youthful separations can be rightly called actions.
Of my boyfriend, the world contains not one parallel.
He overshadows the few others I’ve ever known.
His masculine elements turn me all the way up,
He knows my petty vanities and most of my weaknesses.
If he doesn’t know my every phase of feeling, or every desire
of my love starved soul, it’s because our love is peripatetic.
Most of the year, we’re a long distance, digital, practical nothingness, A near autofictional anticipation. We are separated by a sea and more. If I may simply put it, I have a fine young body that is going to waste.
When I complained to my older sister, a surgeon who long delayed her own personal life for her career, she shruggingly and unsympathetically said,
“You only have to suffer a few more years.”
“Oh, mon Dieu!” I replied.
.
.
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