Long Nightclub Poems
Long Nightclub Poems. Below are the most popular long Nightclub by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nightclub poems by poem length and keyword.
Black hoodie, black gloves and a black balaclava
Allegiances born of belligerent father
A council estate with yards full of tyres
A rucksack that’s laden with tin tacks and wires
Cars outside boozers where loyalist losers
Don’t spot the briefcase with time delay fuses
One man and his neighbour of different persuasions
Soldiers and ministers weighing equations
Each side will tear you apart with their bombs
Some will send ‘letters’ to where you are from
Some cite religion or national pride
Or family honour when taking a side
Orange and green the colours of choice
BBC using an imposter’s voice
Still the news media expresses surprise
When pubs, cars and trucks light up the skies
A town-centre nightclub to which people flock
Across the street came Messrs Browning and Glock
In hands now committed to unleash their guns
They fingered their triggers... and then there were nuns
***
[During ‘The Troubles’ in Northern Ireland, whilst many individuals were targeted due to their religious persuasion, targeted attacks on any particular religious institution were, seemingly, rare. A lengthy chat with Mr Google named two Catholic priests who were deliberately killed, but only one nun who was killed when she happened-on-by a bombing; she remains the only nun killed (albeit inadvertently) because of ‘The Troubles’. ‘And Then There Were Nuns’ simply prompts the question (to which I have no answer) what would a team of gunmen do next if a group of Nuns wandered into their ‘hit’?]
Oh the fine free bachelor life, the bachelor life for me
Stay in bed till ten on Sunday, have a cup of tea
Lay down on the sofa watching soccer on TV
Cheers mate, drink some beer, the single life for me
Oh the fine free bachelor life, the bachelor life is great
Only wash at weekends then go drinking with your mate
Have a few too many and you get in such a state
Who cares, what the hell, on Monday I’ll be late
Oh the fine free bachelor life, the bachelor life is sad
Friday at the nightclub and I’m dancing like my dad
Buying girls their drinks all night, I think that I’ve been had
Out there’s, not that great, stay married and be glad
Form:
I had a little misunderstanding 'bout a fellas size in shoes, the other night.
I said he wore a size eight boot, he said he wore a twelve, and you know he's right.
So Mister if you shake my hand, don't shake it all that hard, I may yell out,
'cos when they take the bandage off I may be able, just about,
To hold the contents of a half filled pint of stout.
And Lady if you're whispering sweet nothings in my ear, don't lean too close,
'cos when they sewed it back they couldn't match up all the pieces, it looks gross.
And a Taxi will be here in just a minute for to take this body home.
'cos that Gentleman outta the kindness of his heart,
Had volunteered to cure my wanderlust to Roam.
When they take the Cast off, I'll be able to walk
As good as any other man
Leastways a Man of Ninety that's been losin' touch with Reality, my friend.
And after the Plastic surgery you won't recognise me,I won't look the same.
At least that's what I'm hoping if this Guy should ever pass my way again.
Well I bought twen quarts of beer for him, and don't you know I had just one or two.
Then we decide to take a walk unto a Nightclub, where the Ladies all look fine.
And when the night was over the Conversation turns to which girl goes Home with Who.
But he don't talk nice, he just hits me twice, and I Hit the Road,
And he takes off with mine.
So i lie here in my Hospital bed and Crave in earnest
For a beer to Ease the Pain
As I gaze upon the Ceiling, as I listen to the Rhythm of the Rain
And I Sighed, as I Realised, i'd Socialised with a Certified Insane
And I hoped and prayed to god that he's just never gonna pass my way again.
On my way down to New Jersey
to take care of business there,
I pulled off and up to this place,
where I got out to stand and stare.
This was the Kutchingkord Hotel,
the heart of the old Borst Belt,
looking at the ruins now,
you can barely even tell.
I came here once when I was four,
way back in the mid eighties,
even then, amidst its decline,
it left an impression on me.
They had a daytime kids program,
back then I thought it so fun,
though now I see it kept us busy,
so our parents could soak the sun.
I remember the restaurants,
and the cool covers on the each dish,
they put them atop fine Kosher meals,
and I’m not even Jewish!
But now it’s just a concrete pad,
a weathered hole once was the pool,
there’s broken seats from the nightclub
where comedians played the fool.
Fences still up on the tennis court,
now cracked and without nets,
the pool-house is standing roofless,
haven’t brought the ball there yet.
Over there is the old ski slope,
all two hundred vertical feet,
maybe not the Matterhorn,
but once good enough for families.
Surrounding it all is tall grass
on what was a grand golf course,
twenty-seven holes and sprawling,
nobody plays it any more.
It saddens me to see it so,
but the trend is nothing new,
these are not the first resorts
that the Catskills have burned through.
Once in the nineteenth century,
higher up in the rolling hills,
the Mountain House and Kaaterskill
tourists once proudly filled.
Now there are just displays there,
telling hikers of how it was,
that thought just saddens me more,
and the reason is because
I know next time I’ll see one,
explaining that on this spot here,
a place once called the Borst Belt
welcomed guests for so many years.
She saw it to be an
excessive thought
tasting the clams
in her crumpets
a tad bite sweet
and crumbly
a spent of lunch
or supper
More accurate than
the original
Savored with a rich
Citrus drink
One would think
It's accuracy is
excellent
to dancing or
a nightclub
a night of
extraordinary
flavor
Soothing suttle
bit excites
Ones behavior
Let’s go to the bathroom, I said to the girls. There were six of them actually.
Mulan, Belle, Sleeping Beauty, Ariel, Tiara, and me, Snow White, factually.
None had to go. Belle actually never looked up from the book she was reading.
Sleeping Beauty was popping her eyes at a Prince, who was next to us feeding.
Whistling bluebirds were flying around my head. Come on, Mulan, I sternly said.
Mulan’s eyebrows went up. She came. “Now, she asked “Who do you want dead?”
“No one,” I told her. I just thought we could have some girly talk, just us two.
We did our business in separate stalls, in this gold and silver plated loo.
I wanted to talk under the stall, but Mulan did not do talk that was small.
“The emperor is in danger,” She said to me. “We cannot let the empire fall.”
A tiny singing mouse wearing a pink bow was at the next sink.
“If you are looking for Sleeping Beauty,” I told her, “Tonight she’s in pink.”
This was a crazy nightclub by all accounts of others who had been.
But with these dullards along, I am afraid to say what shape I was in.
Ariel had the whole restaurant singing when we came out of the loo.
Tiana was nowhere in sight. “Making Gumbo with Chef Boy Are Foo.”
When I thought things could not get much worse things they did.
Seven familiar chubby dwarfs came in yelling “Where is the kid?”
They took over the karaoke machine and had a great night.
For an all-girls-night-out, this one did not turn out right!
If…..
If we passed on the street, would you notice me, or would you just keep walking past? Would you turn to look at me walking away or would you just keep walking?
If you saw me in a crowded café, sitting alone, writing in deep thought, would wonder where it was you saw before?
If there was only one open seat left in the cafe’ and it was at my table, would you risk asking me if the seat was taken, or would you stand alone near the wall waiting for a table to open?
If after you sat with me, would our eyes meet, would I feel the soft warmness in your glare, or would you just look past as if I wasn’t even there?
If you sat next to me on a bus or the subway, would know it was me sitting next to you, could you feel the warmth of me and want it to surround you during the cold winters?
If you saw a warm glow while you walked your dog in the park as sunset began to fall, would you seek it out just to find the glow was coming from me and that it was starting to fade?
If you did follow and find the glow and discovered that it came from me, would you try to talk to me, or would you just let me walk away again, watching the glow slowly fade?
If we crossed paths in the mall, would you wonder where it was that you knew me from or ignore that nagging feeling of familiarity and just keep moving?
If we passed each other again would you get that same nagging feeling again, would you remember what we once had so long ago, or would you just bury it deep inside like you once did? If you do remember, would you recognize the feeling of safety in that warm glow that came from my heart?
If you did remember, would you see that, that the fire never went out and it is still burning within, would you want it back again, or would just push it away again the way you did so long ago?
If we were in a crowded nightclub, would you be drawn to the glow that only you could see, would you embrace it like you once did and hold it dear to your heart, embrace it like you once did?
If you do hold it dear to your heart once more, would you remember how much it meant to us, and how good it felt to have two hearts as one again, if you do, would it be enough?
If Only!
Author?
Some One You May Know!
Form:
Years down the road we will be known as flappers
In 1929 we are known as outrageous open hussies
Shunned by the church-y women, loved by the nightclub crowd
We are to be feared and adored, yin and yang, laugh at our frivolities.
Play girls, fun-lovers, life enthusiasts, dancers, singers, swingers.
We giggle and jiggle our way into your hearts, or out of them.
Depending on how deeply indoctrinated you want to be.
Mesmerizing some, scaring your wives and girlfriends.
We have bobbed our hair, shortened our skirts, and we have sass.
We are tired of the hum drum staidness of life, we are ready for action
Retaining our youth; yet you are keeping daughters and molls from us.
We live our truth, reminding daisies to be themselves and shine.
Black winged feathered butterfly
Oh my brother raven i
It' back to heaven from whence
you left
Call eternal damnation collect
Your severance cheque has now cleared
The signatory is circumspect at best
Ever so hard to make out without or
under nightclub black light
Either way I don't give a damn I am
taking you with me whether you like
it or not
Dead or Alive as the poster say's
That reward is mine all mine and I
sure as hell ain't sharing or splitting
it with anyone
Be they here amongst us the living or
long already dead
Philosophy will neither help nor hinder
Or change a 1 single thing
Whatever is about to happen surely
will and is going to
Alive or dead matter's not
[Smuppet is a word of my own creation. It’s a portmanteau
compiled from Social media puppet (or indeed, muppet). I
came up with it to describe a brainwashed smuppet on the
radio today, who said he won’t have the Covid jab because
he felt he was being told too, and also that vaccine ID cards
are an invasion of his privacy, his freedom and his human
rights... duh!]
*
You borrow a book so you show them a card
And you need a license to drive in your car
For overseas travel it’s probably best
To have a few jabs against some local pest
You enter a bar or a nightclub or two
And if you look young they want ID from you
The post office leaves a note if you are out
But without ID you are going without
If you have a job to do, that’s good for you
Security want your pass to let you through
And if you drive in there’s an app on your phone
That means you can park in the staff only zone
Well, Facebook and Tiktok and Instagram too
And PayPal and YouTube all know you are you
Some know where you are and some know where you’ve been
You’ve set up a world where you’re never unseen
At pop festivals they put bands on your wrist
To tell folk you’ve paid but a point you have missed
So, ’No covid vaccine: No ID,’ you’ve bragged
But all the above means you’re basically tagged
You preach to the world it’s a privacy dive
How awful that governments want you alive
Your arguments frankly are all but anomalous
When you claim your right to be Mr Anonymous
*
[I do, of course accept one’s right to refuse the jab
so long as the reasoning is sound]