Long Norway Poems
Long Norway Poems. Below are the most popular long Norway by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Norway poems by poem length and keyword.
life has it's ups and downs
it's highs and lows
with it comes a lot of crap
but what's most crappy?
Action speaks louder than words
now thats crap.
when you are in a mess
and four men are set to give you stress
only words can placate their vex.
To err is human, to forgive is divine.
iI know men that make it an habit to err
all their faults, in one day they bring to bare.
When they say sorry
you should be worrried
cos when your back is turned
your heart they shall surely burn.
Old wine tastes better
i have never heard a sillier chatter.
Give me bitters, ale or lager
whiskey, cognac, all even the better
inebriation the sole aim
whatever the taste am game.
Your vote is your voice, let it count.
I can't even be cynical on this
their's always count more.
The patient dog eats the fattest bone.
My ***** just had a litter
and with every litter their is a sickler
he was the grunt of the squealers
he never got to mama's breast on time
and with time he died
a bone, he never had to dine.
Dress the way you want to be addressed.
It was visiting day at the prisons
on came a nun brighter than the sun
pious in body and soul, her gait straighter than a pole
she left their third leg rigid
am not kidding.
Every disappointment is a blessing in disguise.
Now this is no lie
am still trying to figure out who was behind the mask
when i got robbed on pay day.
A stich in time saves nine
I love this line.
when you try to take what is mine
believe me it wont be fine
even when you run to the court and get a fine
I will cut you up to bits.
and the stiches wont be nine.
The pen is mightier than the sword
reader, the above is one hell of a crap word.
when am with my big gun
you better drop your pen, cower and run.
Every day is for the theif, one day is for the owner
this is a no brainer.
The governor embezzled our money and left
he got all the praises... you should know the rest.
Make hay while the sun shine's
this should shed some light.
it was Norway inthe middle of the night
when the morrow came, there was still no light.
Make hay while the sun shines
is one hell of a crap.
cos when it should be lihht,
the sun is never in sight.
Let sleeping dog lie
i tell you no lie.
When all your Mutt does is to sleep and eat
when burglars come in to take and keep
you let the ungrateful beast suffer a bit.
Seven Mossad Agents came to Norway a winter day
when a snow drowns the needs of the homeless
asleep in a shop's doorway absorbing the sarcastic smell
of coffee and the aroma of a Napoleon cream cake.
Their mission was to assassinate a man called a terrorist
by them, but freedom fighters by others.
The target had been located, a man of 47 bearded, with
prematurely gray hair, Semitic features, and a nose somewhat bigger than what is the norm in a Nordic land
He works as a waiter at a cafe, and take the bus home
a quarter past ten in the evening, to his bed-sit, about ten minutes ride from the town.
The group needed two taxis to take them to a hotel called, “Larsen's ski lodge” a pleasant little place with
modern IKEA furniture, giving rooms an airy ambiance
the group went to work at once, the leader carrying a
heavy mobile phone, trying to make contact to base, one presumes an embassy, but failed.
One of the women donned a blond wig, walked to the cafe to be sure their target was there
a quarter past ten two men entered the bus, one of them
who spoke a few word in Swedish, asked for two ticket to Husly which was the lat stop before the bur turned around and back to town
when the “terrorist” alighted the bus the two assassins followed.
No point going into details here, but they got their man
and hid his body in a snow drift.
Cooley, they stood by the stop to catch the bus on its return trip, smoking cigarettes of a foreign brand oblivious eyes saw them at the bus stop
The assassins had overlooked one thing, the man had a girlfriend and when he didn't appeared as usual she went out looking for him with the help of neighbors
Her boyfriend was found in the snowdrift
the police quickly knew what they were dealing with
but since they, the local police were not armed, they waited for reinforcement, when in the morning the assassin group came out to go to the railways station
the group were arrested.
Then the bomb dropped, they had murdered the wrong man, another Arab, they quickly insinuated was a terrorist too, what else was he doing in Norway
The court case took a long time, one of the prosecutors
fell in love with the woman with a fake wig, tried to
say she was an innocent bystander, it didn't wash
the case dragged on, in the end, and since the holocaust
was invoked, the guilty only got a few years.
A is for Australia, full of weird beasts,
Where even the cute ones can bite you at least.
B is for Brazil, where football is life,
And people dance samba with joy (and no strife).
C is for Canada, polite and so nice,
Even their insults come with advice.
D is for Denmark, with pastries divine,
And a happiness level off the chart line.
E is for Egypt, land of the old,
Where mummies stay wrapped and pyramids hold.
F is for France, where bread is a dream,
But don’t ever mess with their wine or their cream.
G is for Germany, beer, cars, and might,
And sausages eaten at morning and night.
H is for Hungary, but don’t get it wrong,
They have food so good, you’ll eat all day long.
I is for India, spices galore,
Curry so hot, it’ll knock you to the floor.
J is for Japan, sushi so grand,
And toilets that clean you with jets on demand.
K is for Kenya, safaris so wild,
Lions just chilling while tourists get riled.
L is for Luxembourg, tiny but strong,
You blink and you miss it, but hey, it’s not wrong.
M is for Mexico, tacos and cheer,
But don’t trust the hot sauce—it burns for a year!
N is for Norway, fjords and cold air,
And prices so high, your wallet will swear.
O is for Oman, deserts and heat,
A land where the camels take naps on the street.
P is for Portugal, wine and the sea,
And a love for Ronaldo, as strong as can be.
Q is for Qatar, money so high,
Even their ATMs wear suits and a tie.
R is for Russia, where vodka is king,
And winter is long—it lasts through the spring!
S is for Switzerland, chocolate and banks,
And watches precise to time all your pranks.
T is for Thailand, food spicy and sweet,
With beaches so dreamy, you’ll never want to leave.
U is for Uganda, gorillas so cool,
Living their best lives, just breaking the rules.
V is for Vietnam, coffee so strong,
One sip and you're jittery all the day long.
W is for Wales, with sheep on the hills,
And words in their language that give you the chills.
X is for Xianggang (Hong Kong's other name),
Sky-high buildings and dim sum the game.
Y is for Yemen, ancient and grand,
With mountains and history spread through the land.
Z is for Zimbabwe, Victoria Falls,
Where nature goes big, and adventure calls!
—
So that’s the world, from A to Z,
With laughs along the way for you and me!
I met them once I landed in a place,
they called it haven, a soiree place.
Where people are nice,kind and cool.
Some are young, some are....never mind.
They're awesome people!
I first met this blonde lady,thought she's only twenty.
She did refused, said she's almost a mother to me.
I beg to disagree,'cos she's more than just a mom.
She's a bestfriend, she's wonderwoman.
She lives in Norway,Anne Lise Andresen was her name.
There goes a new avatar,who came to visit on my land.
She's wearring sunglasses,but can't hide the beauty from behind.
Then I found out lately, she doesn't just own a pretty face.
She is the sexiest and hottest momsie,rockin' up poetry.
She's a real poet master,SkAT A.,that's her name!
One day I sat down and read some poetries,
So delightful,inspiring, and awesome pieces.
I got struck to what I've found.
A Filipina who's writing with charms,
Her poems are incredibly great,
She's Nette Onclaud, the goddess poet!
I came to land another page, thought at first that's a cage.
Of a tigress with full of angst and strength.
I must admit, though I was afraid, I admire all the pieces she had made.
She left the table and threw the soup,and think tha'ts the last time I'll see her poem.
But with revenge she went back home, and send me greetings that I treasured.
With friendly comment I came to know, this tigress is tame and a sweet person.
Who is she?...the everbody's love and favorite, Poet Destroyer!
As time goes by, and my journey went long.
I had to passed in different stations.
I came to know so many beautiful people,
So kind and thoughtful, their arts are treasures.
There came to visit my poem one day,
Though full of greiving,they cheered me so well.
They are Mary Jo ,Eileen, F.J. ,Vie and Shadow.
The women who are pride of this site.
The pretty ladies who always been there to lift you high.
Above all these awesome experience,
Is to know the people from my own motherland.
My country fellas, so sweet,cool and nice.
They are the crystal flowers glisten brightly like a star.
They are Leonora, Maria Paz, Nikko and Carole...
My day became brighter, you light the path I walk.
Everytime your greetings knock on my door.
Allow me to do the honor to thank you guys.
And let you all know how thankful I am.
My dream has came true, because of this site.
Autumn In The Air - Hooray
Respite from punishing
heat wave - yay
which above line,
could "speak" volumes,
and be a stand alone poem
offering readers
a reprieve nsync
whence roasting, sultry,
and torpid unpleasant
weather since yesterday
boot such brevity,
would disallow
me to extemporize,
but more importantly today
this intrepid word
smith doth "say,"
he would never
wanna miss trodding,
the formerly (golden
in their heyday now sketchy),
sections of said roadway,
now where digital electronic
rustily hinged, abandoned,
and gated haunting quay
a throwback, when
private manned schooners
(shaped like a beer stein),
perhaps headed to Uruguay
could ply outlying
waters of cyberspace,
why... just yesterday
when my troubles
did not seem so far away
versus this present opportunity
to risk live and limb
(and Kong like wrath
of my reed ding fans)
while getting way
laid "traveling as
Wilburys soul survivor
foreign ancient groupie,"
the dangerous, derelict, and dicey
dubiously dotting dilapidated,
dark corners information
super high way,
thus yours truly
doth not heed,
but flaunts like some cray
zee (NOT RICH, NOR ASIAN),
but rather some gray
beard (grizzled), curmudgeon
figuratively gnarled, toothless,
and weatherbeaten lackaday
lay about good for nothing
mellow flew wuss depraved
('cept mebbe "robbing"
precious and special time
of some bachelor
farmer from Norway)
all the above
essentially wrote for naught
merely (as diversion) to comment,
how this September day wrought
ascent o' fought
(a scent oh aught) tum caught
me wear'n a corduroy
long sleeve shirt since...aye taut
a "FAKE" hungry
Grimm gimlet eyed trumpeting lout,
germane Don apprenticed
how to become cannibalizing
(without accountability) fuhrer,
(and lastly rendering enemies
into sweet tasting sauerkraut),
this while learning das dialect
(tickle) Matt speak,
(which took me a lifetime),
this preceding the
quirky invention of the umlaut!
Time Machine
I sometimes wonder about migration, is there a moment when doors are closed and the bus leaves the station
Sorry folks, the country is full.
One of the reasons people from Pakistan and there about
try to enter Britain is caused by the BBC talking- up England making it sound like a place of milk and honey.
In 1947, the BBC had regularly sent to Norway but
I can't say anyone wanted to go there; as my Uncle Olav
“The British working class have always been poor.”
The Russian radio was in on the act telling sweet stories of a little girl lost on the tundra but saved by a heroic Russian soldier who waded out in an ice-cold river to save
the girl who sat on an ice-floe.
There was at the time, sympathy for the Russians they had sent the Germans packing and helped end the war
But politics was changing the Russian station became full of interference and eventually closed down.
It was a strange time in the forties, Norway traded with Russia and even went on holiday there The Russians bought the herring and wood products and shared coal mines on the Svalbard.
To be a car owner in Norway was a rarity, but suddenly
The country was swamped with thousands of Russian-made Fiat cars, and the heart of equality skipped a beat.
There was a man who was well-liked but was caught spying for Russia he said it was because he believed in
the system and tried to help.
After years of jail time, where he wrote self-serving books he was freed, but the Russia he professed to love had changed; he went to Moscow and started a business, and became a millionaire by working hard.
We know the truth, but it is too tedious to talk about it
One thing is sure, if you want to open a business it is not enough to make a call saying you are selling leather shoes you have to have some information on the friends
who helps you succeed.
PS What I remember has no date because when you are old all appears to be yesteryear.
Nowadays Norway is a rich nation, safely embedded in the U.S. interest sphere It might just as well be called an American state, the rumors have it the CIA is conducting its secret operations from Norwegian soil.
With this, I will say no more as my old-age pension is
paid by the Norwegian state.
The young lad sat in the old school room
To him the place felt like a tomb
He knew that he would be leaving soon
He felt restless
He got a job on the factory floor
This just seemed to be a bore
So he quit when he could take no more
The world was there to see
He packed his gear in an ancient grip
And set out on an adventure trip
To the Pool of London to join a ship
And ran away to sea
Ten men packed in a cabin tight
Snoring and breaking wind all night
But he could cope with this all right
He was on the move
Soon they were landing on foreign shores
Where they took on cargo and fresh stores
And drank and brawled and slept with whores
Then off again to sea
He saw the turtles and sharks and whale
Ships under steam and under sail
Felt both the roll of a force ten gale
And the calm of an island lee
He thought of lads he had left at school
On the factory floor or playing pool
Knowing that they would be missing it all
Glad he wasn’t with them
Through Suez or the Panama
Rio or to Zanzibar
Nowhere seemed to be too far
To tie up at a quay
He crossed the Great Australian Bight
Where gigantic waves all toped with white
Sparkling with Phosphorescent light
Came crashing over the foc’sle
He’d watched lovely Polynesian girls
Diving naked in search of pearls
The vision blurred as the water swirls
Some vision
He’d stood on deck when a seamen died
Watched the corpse slipped over the side
Sinking slowly under the tide
Gone forever
He’d sailed beneath the Golden Gate
By Alkatraz where the convicts wait
All hoping to dodge a grisly fate
Electric chair
He’d seen bars explode in a vicious fight
Or sometimes sat on a tropic night
Watching fireflies flash iridescent light
How relaxing
He’d seen men crazy through too much dope
Sailed round the horn and the cape of hope
Been offered a woman for a bar of soap
That’s poverty
He travelled the globe both far and nigh
From the Norway fjord to old Shanghai
This was the life of sea and sky
This was the life for he
He’d met with the hero and with the liar
Saw the sun go down like a ball of fire
Thought of this life he would never tire
Things were changing
Form:
Anecdote:
For a nuptial effort, I was editing a photograph, my former husband, and his two classmates, as we were proposing for one, not all of them!
Posters are problematic these days, with every hotline too!
Please ignore, once your own tire, is acted up.
It is conveying a symptom, an outlier or an eloquence.
Now give them a brake, as you are not an advertisement, here.
***Quantitative process of elimination (Poe),
how can you be a parable that you are not a hoopoe within? ****
"You are nagging too much, these days!"
The time, outspoken, looked into the eyes.
I am pieced off with Du'a and Gloria Anzaldu'a
I am Netherlands, perhaps Holland, Hall &, and yet Norway....
Now you popped out from nowhere, half-hearted and negated
(and said),
e will become gradually into E, and all I heard , perhaps,"Thou art a....!"
I foretold this must be an acne issue with hormone, either hyper, or hype-o
Now "Being" a rare loner lump some inside a prayer room, where shall I serve the Type-o?
The Imam simply withered away, yet his glory is not! On a Friday, even though, remembrance about,
But the sister theory is giggling and nagging around, anything, other than this, without outsider harbinger chariot!
As every should could, perhaps, whence the targeted e is a mere life, not a grandiose Neon God!
These are all "Bay leaf " shape poem, unequivocally true, for the bookmark of your "Al Quran-ul- Kareem" and "hadeeth"
Even though price variation, there is a "housekeeping should" of the reason behind, that you will be liable al through,
Lentil and Moong, Mosul, and other peas, all you will subtly be, a graceful Imam your self
You did not disgrace them, and you did not happen too!
I will urge the time, to declutter own whine, to serve the deepest strength, the other side of your Chromebook screen
Or else, I will be a mere outlier quantitative with crispy onion, for lentil, alfalfa, already piled up algae enigmatic scene
Your work talks there, not your mannerism or coy word, lucrative, adjective or precisely so!
First 'be'! A distilled water bottle in calling for reverie, once rational, for any book, any letter too!
1:38 PM
9-5-2024
Apostle Matthew encountered...
artist, dragon and gangster extraordinaire
Written September ninth,
two thousand and twenty one.
Reposted exactly three years later.
Here at 2 Highland Manor Drive
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
Actually all three people
linkedin to each other courtesy
Dissociative Identity Disorder
(Multiple Personality Disorder).
Wiccan up to mystical alien way
I raptly listened as she didst soothsay
scanned -- din heavy yen reference
about paganistic folkloric history
regarding Sweden and Oslo (also) Norway.
The missus dubbed
aforementioned young gal "curvy girl,"
a zaftig smart young woman
super talented self taught herself
to draw, sketch, and paint.
Only unmarried millennial men need apply,
perhaps someone who hails from buckeye
state - ideally above average
humorous gallivanting fellow
plus somewhat meshuggeneh cockeye
Louie garden variety
wealthy eccentric recluse
who doth blatantly defy
establishmentarian paradigm
you rarely espy,
cause he stays sequestered
about dozen doors down
from (femme fatale) ha
said alluded to chick named
three faces of
eve vent jewel one named Jen Fry
easy on the eyes
courtesy me, a generic guy,
who experienced amicable chat
referencing aforementioned lass
the first encounter with her
found yours truly saying "hi"
devoid of ulterior motives
only casual acquaintanceship did I imply
cuz even if this former bachelor
(got married twenty fifth of July
nineteen hundred and ninety six)
hypothetically decoupled,
cuz the age difference between us
quite substantial qua aging baby boomer
born two years after Bridge
over the River Kwai
filmed - then rocked to sleep
courtesy Brahms lullaby
if fain to sire offspring with lass
(young enough to be my daughter)
kiddos would witness their papa to mummify.
Our friendly communication
peppered with structures of silence
coasted along with zest
and dialed up quite lathered dialogue
betwixt us I do attest
mutual comfort level quickly established
between yours truly
and said attractive beefy babe,
who possessed killer thunder thighs
shaking the entire firmament.
brothers we be, brother we be free
brothers we be
brother we be free
me and lil bro would have these sword fights
yelling fight to our deaths
yelling to the victor gets Kristina the neighbor's daughter
we were young
about ten
drawing inspiration from each other
and being heroes someday we be
we also put words in Kristina's mouth
she didn't mind, she was like us
this was back in the late 60's
in the land of the midnight sun, Norway
it was also during a time in history
of the viet nam war where these Americans were being protested against
numerous time, i remember,
the house windows being spray painted and broken
brothers we be
brother we be free
we also faced hostility from neighboring kids, much older kids
to the sword fights we go
we fought gallantry
with our little weenie sticks we would fought with so much
gallantry, so gallantry
the kind we would roast weenies and marshmallows on
we were Spartans, fighting passionately
honing our skills for these mean kids
and let me tell you those weenie sticks hurt
it hurt our backside when i sliced off mom's roses
let me tell you
brothers we be
brother we be free
we were also mischief
stealing dads cigs and liquor
sneaking out late at night to our tree forth
one time with Kristina
and let me tell those tree forts hurt our backside
let me tell you, i kid you not
especially when Kristina's dad told ours, ouch
brothers we be
brother we be free
against the neighboring kid we held our own
let me tell, me and lil bro
earning respect on the fjords
fishing, canoeing, swimming
in winter
skiing, especially long jumping and hockey
summer months playing soccer
in time we were ingratiating ourselves with the hood
let me you we did
the best was taking a hike deep into the forest one day
coming upon an inhabited cabin
breaking in, stealing some reindeer horns, girly mags
cookies and sweets
it was passage of life, it forged memories
for two brothers that grew some balls, conviction
experience growing up fast to protect their honor against the hood
but mostly, mostly
brothers we be
brother we be free
connie pachecho
1/21/17