Long Parsons Poems

Long Parsons Poems. Below are the most popular long Parsons by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Parsons poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Today, even the hills seem blue and other painful verses

Today, even the hills seem blue.
Unhappiness is just happiness ~
being torn to shreds by you.
Bartleby:  "I would prefer not to."
Lawyer:  "But Bartleby, you've got to.
Pull yourself together, somehow,
and make a copy for me. Right now.
It's your sad lot to."
Bartleby:  "I would prefer not to."

Someone stomped on my heart with their feet.
There's the red blotch ~ on their soiled bed sheet.
Doesn't look like a heart anymore ~
more like an open, festering sore.
And ~ I'm not waiting around for a repeat.
You know what I wish for the most? 
That we could drive once more up the California coast,
listening to Emmylou Harris, Gram Parsons, and John Prine,
with me holding your hand, and you holding mine,
and not stopping ~ till we had safely crossed the fault line.

Here we are, finally at our loose ends,
with no more possibility for amends.
Our love's edges just got too frayed
for anyone to be able to come to our aide ~
no elf or fairy ~ who sews up, patches, or mends.
From Barcelona, she shipped me boots of Spanish leather,
with a note that said, "So you might get to understand Bob Dylan better."
And that's the last word
from her I ever heard,
and sadly, we never listened to Bob Dylan again together.

I made an appointment with me.
I was in need of some clarity.
I needed to know why it was
I felt like I was a lost cause.
And boy, did she act snottily.
The old tree on which I carved your name? ~
during last week's windstorm, down it came.
That staunch, indomitable oak,
that saw you prod and watched me poke,
is firewood now, ready for the flame.
© Rio Jansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Welcome Home

There I see three smoking pots on the chimney top 
And the fire is on the go in my country home
Where I sit in my chair made of horses hair 
Soft are my feet amongst my woollen sheep's fleece 

Singing 

Welcome home my sweet my heart my love 
Welcome home my merry band 
Welcome home my sweet my heart my love 
Welcome home and take my loving hand 

There I see three magpies on the chimney top 
They call from the roof in the hope to bring us luck 
The owl hoots from the old oak tree
She is so very pleased to see me 

Singing 

Welcome home my sweet my heart my love 
Welcome home my merry band 
Welcome home my sweet my heart my love 
Welcome home and take my  loving hand 

There I see three little bluebirds tweeting a melody  
Home to our apple blossom tree 
Dancing amongst the flowers 
A lady speaks to me 
Gathering her nectar to stir in our tea 

Singing 

Welcome home my sweet my heart my love 
Welcome home my merry band 
Welcome home my sweet my heart my love 
Welcome home and take my loving hand 

There I see playing happily smiles of curiosity 
Our friends of furry loyalty jump up to greet me 
Wagging tails and tongues our cheeky hunting parsons 
Pink and panting under the evening Lilac skies 
Lead me home sweet home kindness in your eyes 

Singing 

Welcome home my sweet my heart my love 
Welcome home my merry band 
Welcome home my sweet my heart my love 
Welcome home and take my loving hand
Form: Rhyme

Demons Dream V2

The Raven by The Alan Parsons Project
https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=170&v=mfBpxfRAPo4

through my sleeping
a bit of napping
I kissed the glimpse
of a wrapper tapping...
countless creations
of ever lasting
flipped the switch
in tricks of timing

t’is only this...

at pebbles shore
the silken lips
of evermore
whispering in mist
of wishes lore
then into heaven
raven soars
and to amazement
said “once more!”
the very quoth
as heard before

“this nameless... evermore"

a heart of hope
no burden bores
as raven sights
“the Jovian shore”
and so upon
a starlight twinkling
lines of rhyme
by way of thinking
"called the raven"
linked and syncing
into a maddening
demons dream

" Welcome... 
to The Screen"
© Izzy Gumbo  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Legend

Nearby, drained, workaday faces pass by:

Working people with working class woe:

Faces bent in suffering, near hopelessness, made indiscriminate rue.


But turn on the car radio as the people pass by within earshot:

Music escaping from the radio,

Like the paradisal bird escaping from the

Proverbial gilded cage:

The otherworldly, mesmerisingly liberating rock, blues, jazz, and

Poetry of the Doors;

The antic, agonized meditations and harmonies, the unfettered idealism and

Humanity, the driving, rocking rhythm of the songs of John Lennon;

The rustic, soaring harmonies, the heartfelt, universal humanity of the

"Cosmic American Music" of LA "rhinestone cowboy" Gram Parsons:

Working class faces passing by, suddenly smiling, happy looking for 

The first time that day, Spirit enduring, Victory assured.

Victorious August 75 Years

Atomic payback made impact dramatically 
Physics split minute energy into mammoth 
Allied forces warned Hiroshima, Nagasaki
Destroyer of worlds, Now I become death

Military master, Japan, thought threat outrageous 
Devastation loomed, four tonne 'Boy' understated 
Captain William Parsons' eleven crew couragous 
Strategists secured success in moment awaited

Mortally haunted, Heaven bound warrior, Tibbet
Executed bitter battle's end with dual blast pinnacle 
Blood fry in nuclear fire equals life's instant inhibit
Barrel of boiling tar nuclear, dark enemy formidable 

Warfare honing hails modern science triumphant
High flying stealth hit dismissive city, Hiroshima
80 000 obliterated in blast's mighty circumference 
Spurred surrendour from horror, West's redeemer

War's tragic trail of destruction is never desirable 
Japan's lax defense conceded their due fire cease
Bleeding Harbour sped innovation for global survival 
Deadly allied attack rendered long needed peace




15th August 2020
Form: Rhyme


Talisman of culinary elan could be Japan


Those with a culinary masterplan 

Know go for neon glow talisman 

Spick & span with fancy dan elan

Wooing doing the cooing can-can


Riot on a diet expands my lifespan

Wrinkle free wry mystery Peter Pan

Doorman to sly new world deadpan 


For sushi like John Belushi a madman

Oodles of noodles like silky doodles

Caveman craved calming ramen amen


In a hurry then lasso a curry.. yep Katsu

From svelte purveyor and belt conveyor 

Time to have a durry in the rusty daihatsu


Beg for an egg sandwich from heaven

Palette parsons from Lawsons not 7/11


Stricken saved by nori or yakitori chicken

Remembers glory of flaming embers story

Or ditty of look at me too pretty sashimi


Detect such respect in every single aspect

Mingle & scan no defect full effect scran 

No also ran but our number one suspect

Wasabi touch of ginger..trusty kemo sabe

Culture protect am a fan can only be Japan
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Chicago Haymarket Riot of 1886

It was in eighteen eighty-six in the streets of Chicago,
where the greatest miscarriage of justice people would know
transpired in an infamous labor-police rendezvous.
Albert Parsons led eighty thousand people on revue.
The strikers marched down Chicago’s Michigan Avenue.
The Knights of Labor were sponsors for the work stoppage venue.
Demands for shorter work hours and no child labor were made.
This would be regarded as the world’s first May Day parade.
Thousands nationwide would join in with the activities
In the next few days, the striking workers stopped whole industries.

On the third, some strikers and police engaged in melees.
These actions resulted in two ill-fated fatalities.
The struggles also caused some severe hideous injuries. 
The fights took place at the McCormick Harvester Company.
Many held the police for murderous culpability.

Organizers from the Knights of Labor held a mass rally
at the Haymarket in Chicago’s West Loop vicinity.
They would assemble there in the early part of May.
Thousands crowded there peacefully on the month’s fourth day.
Leaflets were passed noting the police for murder to the crowd
as anarchists urged the mobs to join forces and shout aloud.
A bomb thrown at the police catalyzed an altercation.
One officer was killed and others hurt in the explosion.
Matthias Degan was the officer fallen in duty.
Seven other policemen died later from an injury.
The police opened fire on the people immediately.
At least eleven of the strikers were shot at fatally.

Eight men stood trial for the death of police officer Degan.
They were Parsons, August Spies, George Engel, Samuel Fielden,
Adolf Fischer, Louis Lingg, Michael Schwab, and Oscar Neebe.
All eight were tried and found guilty by a judge and jury.
Neebe got fifteen years; the others got the death penalty.
Schwab and Fielden were commuted to life; then got clemency.
Lingg took his own life before his scheduled execution.
The remaining four men were hanged in public exhibition.

Since then, there have been enacted many labor reform laws
The men who died are considered martyrs to a noble cause.

I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for the information I obtained to write this 
poem.
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace