Long Mike Poems
Long Mike Poems. Below are the most popular long Mike by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mike poems by poem length and keyword.
I must say I am the happiest girl on the earth
because I have a guy loving me for what I’m worth.
Through my best girlfriend, he made his presence known to me.
Now I have him for my own. Soon, we will both marry.
Now it is December, and Christmas Day will arrive.
This man I know and love makes me feel glad I’m alive!
Somehow, all those lights seem to shine with greater brilliance.
He made me come back from my troubles with resilience.
He’s just like that star at the top of my Christmas tree.
Never in my life have I ever been so happy!
This holiday would bring me a much greater surprise.
Here's Regina’s engagement ring about two-carat size.
This indicates Joe and Regina will soon marry.
She displays it proudly for both Mike and I to see.
With an embrace, I convey my congratulations.
Mike and my mother display genuine elations.
“Joe and I set the date for August,” Regina said.
“That is only three months after you and Mike are wed.
Mike, your cousin Joe is someone I truly adore.
He is the man I’m wanting with me for ever more!”
This Christmas, everything seems so much sweeter to me.
However, I can’t wait for May when I will marry!
Social distancing is the new king
It is as romantic as a modern day proposal with a ring
But city folk are professionals at telling where people to go
Using the special finger with the R rated message they show
Is social distancing a good idea?
Is it the true way people feel?
What is society going to do?
Sit back and say “social distancing is the new cool”
Plans should be put in effect
On how people can reconnect
Using one word, respect
Also, understanding every scene is not theirs
And realizing sometimes it is someone else’s affair
It is not hate which builds this blockade
Just the honest feeling of needing to go in another way
There is a piece of happiness for everyone
To go where they are truly welcome
Based on like and dislike
And not commanded by someone holding a mike
If social distancing is the new cool
We will all end up a bunch of lonely fools
Love is the essence.
Your presence is flavor.
I'll savor you "Now and Later."
Your sweetness is one,
of many candies,
not just good night pillow mint "Andes."
I'm a "sucker" for you,
like an "Everlasting Gobstopper," forever true.
Even if there's "Mounds" on the "Rocky Road,"
we'll "Crunch" it out and keep our oath.
You gave me a "Ring Pop" and I said, "I do."
You're forever my "Sweettart" and I love you.
You know I'm shy, but a great romancer.
"Red Rope" me in, like a "Jolly Rancher."
Let's make it "Good and Plenty,"
as true love's meant to be.
We'll start with "Hershey's Hugs,"
then we'll twist into "Kisses."
Doesn't that sound delicious?
I'll lick your "Necco,"
as you tickle my ears.
My "Snickers" are so hard,
I'm brought to tears.
I'll "Rollo"-ver and purr like a "KitKat"
while you tenderly rub my back.
"Mr. Goodbar," you're way above par.
You make relaxing easy,
like bendy "Laffy Taffy."
You give me "Red Hots" with your fingertips.
""M"mm "&" "M"mm," are upon my lips.
Take me to "Mars," in the "Milky Way,"
Take me anywhere, as long as you stay.
Call me "Baby Ruth," or whatever you please.
Call me your girl, or a playful tease.
You're a little nutty, my funny "Almond Joy."
When it's "Reece's," I'll play with your toy.
You're not so shabby, fancy "Sugar Daddy."
We'd make great "Sugar Babies."
Maybe with lots of practice,
we might have "Twix."
We could name them "Mike & Ike,"
or something we both like.
You're such a "Big Hunk,"
and I love "Whoppers."
Let's make this night one of many non-stoppers.
(Candy names were originally in bold instead of quotations, but it didn't transfer over
correctly.)
Grey skies in March
as I walk through
the littered yard.
The grass is brown.
No one sees me
except the man
across the alley
loading scrap
into his pick-up.
We talk weather—
snow two days ago
today mist and rain
while we bear
the weight of our lives.
He says he’s laid off
but hopes to return soon.
I talk about lost love
and an empty heart.
We agree we want
to reclaim our lives—
the calendar says spring.
A heavy piece of metal
thrown thuds unto his truck
and he says
Another day another dollar.
I say
All the world’s a stage
before I hop into my car
but no one else is around.
On a quiet morning
bare trees near the ravine
at the end of the alley
raise their weary arms.
I allow a moment to watch.
The light is bright
as I slip from under the covers
yet the house groans and creaks
and the ghost of winter lurks
within the walls.
When I was a child
a teacher said
first there was light
but I remember
the night I danced
under the cover of darkness.
When I go downstairs
the sun shining through the window
shows clutter, life’s imperfection
as I slip from the embrace
of last night’s dreams
of someone I loved
but that was long ago.
I must walk through the clutter
to step outside and feel a warm breeze
and let the day begin for me.
Branches of bare limbs dance
in a warm breeze
as they wait to bloom.
New life, a soothsayer says.
A poetic leap, I say,
as I grasp the wheel
and drive toward the sun.
Being on the team that got
Trump elected.
People treat me as if
I were seriously infected.
For being part of a team,
That shares Trump's
American dream!
Of an America strong and
free of government coercion,
And unwilling to be brainwashed into
Socialistic promises of freebie
diversions.
Trump believes in the Constitution
While others cry, " Restitution"
For what?
President Trump honest
to a fault, add humanity, too.
The Democrats won't give
him a chance are you kidding?
They play him the fool~
Like a drunk at a wedding.
The media burns the midnight
oil,
To broadcast truth?
A joke from which they all recoil.
Their goal of course, to cause national turmoil and poison discourse.
It's like a poisonous snake has
settled on the press.
Acosta, accosting a
presidential aide fighting
over a mike.
Acosta, a bonehead who
lightning should strike.
There should be a book
Published by CNN with
a poison pen...
" How we Destroyed the
USA."
It's not a matter of how, but when.
Worse, Trump and family believe
in God, an unforgivable sin.
Why don't his detractors just drink
a pint of cheap gin.
They can't get over the fact that
Hillary lost, much to their chagrin.
Democrats and Fake News create
new lies,
"Impeachment" always~their battle cry!
Oligarchs, Russia and Wiki-leaks,
Well, my fellow Americans,
Their false fairy tales just plain stink.
So now Nadler and Schiff, two
Sterling men sharpen their knives
Let's go over all the President's taxes
Surely there is something he's hiding.
They can't stand success, these Swamp
Creatures, they!
And Elijah Cummings, their new CPA.
The entire Trump family has been
under attack, children included.
How compassionate, the Democrats are.
Infanticide, included.
These wolves on The Hill!
Whose sole purpose in life is to
Decry all the President's triumphs
And wish him~nothing but ill!
The press stretches truth like a
rubber band,
Shameful despicable lies.
America will survive all of this,
We will remain a Republic.
Will remain free, prosperous and
always stand.
Form:
The night whispered as I stirred
and I lingered under a warm blanket
before walking barefoot
through a narrow hallway.
I’d been sick in the morning
angry at work-
and I didn’t know why.
Earlier in the night a friend and I
talked about politicians
and he showed me a thick book
of poems, he called modern.
I said I read more recent poems.
He was sad, and I was tired
and I drove him home.
We spoke about our lives
and I talked about my losses
things I was struggling to understand.
The night was still.
I talked about what I
settled for,
what I was meant to be
and I felt my heartbeat.
I knew I was living
to write another poem.
Streetlights shone stars
and when I got back home
I listened to speakers on TV
for inspiration and to a song
to soothe my soul.
I turned on my laptop
saw a prompt to write
about dreams within dreams.
The prompt stirred
within chambers of my heart
before I slipped into a dark room
and went to bed.
in all the stillness
of mid-morning
a well-played song
brown leaves still
hang on branches of trees
and I figure
all that is going to fall
has fallen
but the tree still
hangs onto life
I sit at my laptop
a blank page
faces me
on the screen
and as it flickers
all it asks from me
is a poem
that’s all
a poem
but it must be
true to itself
and as I run
through my mind
I see a litany of faces
of the all the loves
I've known
and in a moment of silence
I must admit
that I still love them all
but the room is still
heat rises from a vent
to ease the chill
I feel in my bones
I know winter is near
I look out the window
and see a sparrow
hop across the lawn
and something inside says
I’ve seen it before
Here's to Johnny Such and Such
wandering up and down the streets
in his funny coat and hat
steering clear of those he meets
Compared to others whom you know
Johnny seems a little odd
A bit unkempt and somewhat distant
His story only known by God
The children point and laugh at him
and grown ups look the other way
never asking how he's been
nor giving him the time of day
But rest assured he has a soul
that yearns for something better still
To be accepted, even loved
his emptiness inside to fill
And for a time he's occupied
a place within our little town
He's never bothered anyone
or gave them cause to wear a frown
I haven't seen him for a while
I wondered where he'd gone until
I came across his grave and marker
high upon this grassy hill
His passing largely went unnoticed
like his presence often did
But he's ingrained within my memory
ever since I was a kid
Now looking up and down the streets
I get the strangest feeling that
If I try, I still might see him
in his funny coat and hat
So here lies Johnny Such and Such
who passed away at sixty seven
He once graced our little town
and now he walks the streets in Heaven
© Mike Wise
11-12-23
[I have no idea if Cilla Black ever made it outside the UK
But suffice is to say that no rock legend would ever beef-
up his image by proclaiming his adulation for the Liverpool
lass. The following is absolutely true regarding a line from
Meatloaf’s ‘Bat Out Of Hell’. To this day I almost always
sing…
‘I’m gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
I’m a Cilla Black fan on bike’]
*
Thank you Meat for your music so fine
Including my favorite mis-heard line
I spent so much time hitting play and rewind
But the actual lyric my ear couldn’t find
I kept hearing you crying out something like
‘I’m a Cilla Black fan on bike’
Eventually I asked my old mate, Mike
Who Said it’s ‘On my silver black phantom bike’
*
[Rest in peace, Meatloaf]