Long New york minute Poems
Long New york minute Poems. Below are the most popular long New york minute by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long New york minute poems by poem length and keyword.
Yes, to the dance and party at Hotel California.
You love the flirting game with pretty maids all in a row.
No more wasted time on the heartbreak endured in Georgia.
No sad desperado feel blocks your new, solo, man show.
You love the flirting game with pretty maids all in a row.
In the city, fantasy landscapes entice your lost heart.
No sad desperado feel blocks your new, solo, man show.
You believe life in the fast lane is a game you play smart.
In the city, fantasy landscapes entice your lost heart.
You long to dance sloshed into the morn’s tequila sunrise.
You believe life in the fast lane is a game you play smart.
I can’t tell you why your emotion seeks downtown tinged skies.
You long to dance sloshed into the morn’s tequila sunrise.
You’ll take one more skin or gin shot in a New York minute.
I can’t tell you why your emotion seeks downtown tinged skies.
A certain kind of fool with a broken heart, can’t mend it.
You’ll take one more skin or gin shot in a New York minute.
No more wasted time on the heartbreak endured in Georgia.
A certain kind of fool with a broken heart, can’t mend it.
Yes, to the dance and party at Hotel California.
The Eagles
Songs: Hotel California, Pretty Maids All in a Row, Wasted Time, Desperado, In the City, Life in the Fast Lane, Tequila Sunrise, I Can’t Tell You Why, New York Minute, Certain Kind of Fool
Without you, there would be no dirty hoes or moldy dishes.
I'd hook up with a wild one in less than a New York minute.
Every night I'd go out hungry sharking with the guys.
Circling neon bodies until it was closing time.
Lantern fishing all night, poker games would be the norm.
Sure, would beat listening all night to an ogre's snore.
I wouldn't have to be the perfect gentleman.
I could proudly pick my nose and break the sweetest wind.
Never again would I fall victim to a case of deep blue balls.
I'd be notching headboards and knocking pictures off the wall.
Then again, nobody else but you would have my back.
You're a rotten lover but a pretty good down friend.
I've decided to ride the same old train,
until I run it completely off its track.
5/29/20
Note: Special thanks to Elizabeth Wesley for planting the seed (another one) for this poem. And despite the dismal nature of this writing, Sanibel Island is still a beautiful place to see and visit.
Sanibel, Sanibel, Sanibel dream;
Once we were lovers before I knew what love means.
I held your hands, your soft white sands
Caressing my fingers tender;
Sanibel, Sanibel where have you have gone
Our love no longer lingers.
Gone are your spiraling sea shells,
Remains of your deep ocean friends;
Gone are your crystalline shorelines
I left my footprints in.
From progress called sky scrapers
And concrete travel parks;
Sanibel, dear Sanibel,
You’ve lost your sweet lovers spark.
Others may find you still lovely
With your great blue egret plumes;
But I’m not fooled for a New York minute
Because I watched shooting stars with you.
While the waves washed in from the distance
And the tides came and went with the moon;
I gave you my all while following the call
And you left me far too soon.
Sanibel, Sanibel, Sanibel dream;
Once we were lovers before I knew what love means.
NYC, be very, ashamed!
One dead officer buried?
6th Avenue showed it’s honors!
The next day in gratitude,
You go out and destroy store shop owners?
No wonder death walks your streets.
Helpless women in smelly subways!
are beaten or their deaths do meet.
Children are killed or in faces shot?
Yes, your stinking mandates, cause
death a lot.
Hidden behind idiotic masks.
You adore them, admit it.
But on a dead policeman, you’d spit, in
a New York Minute?
1/31/2022
And a salute to NYC’s finest. And all, in cities across the USA who lose their lives...that we live! THANK YOU. Hardly enough?
Although I could be wrong,
I think it really is the case,
that unity will always make us strong,
And that America is a gift from God to us all,
And that togetherness will make us grow tall.
It's like this, regardless of how it seems;
How it seems as if bursting at the seams;
How it appears that its demise is inevitable.
I understand Americanism is as simple as can be.
Yet, it can be as complicated as one has ever imagined.
But we are descendants of 'overcoming people' who built
the mold of brotherhood. May we never break that mold.
Let's take a minute or two and dismiss its complications.
For a New York minute, let's set aside its myriad complexities.
Let's take a moment to confess its imperfections and intolerances.
I cherish the memory of a Texan who used to say, "It's just that simple".
When you are you, and I am me, we are two; but we have the power to become one. What good shall come from two, if we fear and fight, rather than love each other? What good shall come if we implode upon ourselves or explode into a thousand pieces? What good shall come of us if we become 'a relic of history', 'a once upon a time memory'? And what good shall come of us and our descendants if we do not give ourselves a fighting chance?
I dream of unity that builds cathedrals and metropolises, not divisions that breed destruction.
091821PS
Seems to come as a surprise
i want to ride the waves with you tonight
to breath in the smoke of the pain you left behind
in a New York minute i lost it all again
but back in California i'm no stranger to your friends
maybe just a tourist in a town with no name
maybe just a sunken ship on streets with no game
I'm just here to connect in a soul sense
I'm just here to dance with your love again
Where's the release
An age old reflection of the truth killed your friend
the place you kept the pain and suffering
past problems ain't mine to live again
send a check by mail or meet me in person
down in my hometown cradle
with the candle burning thin
wrapped up in the sheets i sweat in
I'm just here to connect in the soul sense
I'm just here to dance with the love again
Where's the release
Down in my hometown cradle
Down in my hometown cradle
Where's the release.............
The me that you see’s just a face that I wear.
You have no idea what’s really on my mind.
The me of my soul regards you over there
As sly and elusive, your intentions undefined.
The me that you see stands a distance apart
From you coyly playing the role of a shrew.
The I of my mind steers a sensible course
By sidestepping driftwood and hazards like you.
You’ve been casting incantations
With your coven of dark ingenues.
I've been busy myself, pounding down my intentions,
Hammering a hard wrought point of view;
I don't need any more you.
As it is, it’s just grist for the mill.
But it leaves me with one thing I know,
We made as fine a couple
As Mr. Miller and Ms. Monroe.
Now take me off your mailing list.
I'll gladly burn your cards and letters, too.
We gave our torrid fling a New York minute.
It’s sad, but I can’t deal with any more you.
THIS SPACE REVERVED FOR
JOLTIN' JOE