Long Party Poems
Long Party Poems. Below are the most popular long Party by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Party poems by poem length and keyword.
The Halloween Party was in full swing
Witches, wizards and an alien thing
with tentacles and one huge eye
Flourishing a laser gun shouting "Die".
Alison and her friends Ada and Jo
Were all dressed as feline kittens "meow"
Carl and Simon had laced the fruit punch bowl
As the evening drew on it took it's tole.
Drunkenly a bet was stupidly placed
Who of them would last and not be outpaced
A nightly vigil at Haunted Creek
Where rode a phantom horseman, there to seek.
Everyone there all knew the awful tale
Making in unison a quick inhale
It was long ago in 1702
A mounted stallion there cast a shoe
The rider's name was Squire Abraham Knight
Was set upon and put up a good fight
He was then butchered for a gold doubloon
Was then thrown in the creek and found at noon
Unexplained sightings, that then disappear
have been recorded, it is very unclear
Warnings come from parents to their own child
No-one goes there, it is left to grow wild
With youthful bravado they all met there
Torches flashed around, as the trees stood bare
Alison and her friends huddled together
Shivering in the inclement weather
Bart and his brother camped down for the night
on a hillock, keeping the creek in sight
Joining them was the terror gang of four
Troublemakers, who all acted hardcore.
Two hours later it started to snow
Huge flakes falling and wind began to blow
"I've had enough of this" said Alison
"I'm all for going home. I'm all done!"
Eagerly agreeing, walked back in step
Suddenly Jo tripped up and in pain wept
"Can't go further, my ankle is wrecked"
Leaning on shoulders, onwards they all trekked.
"No, I can't, please, you must stop", poor Jo wailed
"It's agony! she gasped and then inhaled.
"Come on Jo, we can stop at Adam's place".
"We will make it there at a slower pace.
Adam's place was an old abandoned farm
"No, not there!" said Ada-May in alarm
"Afraid of ghosts and ghouls?" mocked Alison
"More like rats and spiders and not much fun!".
Giggling they arrived at old Adam's place
The moonlight showing fear on each girl's face
"We have to go in there, we have no choice"
Jo jumped. "Was that whinnying of a horse?"
On that retort they threw open the door
Stepping inside, they all dropped through the floor
Not one of them survived their dreadful doom
Trapped, without rescue, in the dark, dark room.............
LETTER TO MY FUTURE SELF
Hello there, sweet Lady Jane,
So, it is three weeks before you turn seventy,
do you think you can honestly tell you found
your peace of mind, contentment, happiness?
Or are you still searching for answers to the
things you never understand and wondering
the what ifs, when you damn know there would
be no answers, no explanations, no clarifications.
Your children are giving you a party and all your
grandchildren will be there to celebrate you.
Do they make you proud for what they become?
Or do you still think you did not spend enough time
with them when you cannot turn back time or do
you still worry and wish something better for them?
All your siblings with their spouses, children and
grandchildren will join your family in celebrating
you reaching a major milestone, are you excited?
Or do you still feel like an outsider for your
mother, their mother treated you differently.
I know your life did not turn to be what you wanted,
as your life journey put you through many adversities
including sorrow and pain that you turned out to be
what you are meant to be, a strong willed woman.
You learned to let go the shadows that haunted you
and you accepted and embraced what life threw at you
becoming appreciative and thankful with your blessings.
In the past, you were asked many times what your plans
were for the next five years? ten years? for the future?
You had so many for you couldn’t get no satisfaction.
Now, you just whisper let it be, the words of wisdom.
Your dreams never materialized; but they never left you.
So at this time in your life you think you are never too old
to dream or create new ones by reinventing yourself.
You dare to live your life at its fullest and take a chance
to create your own happiness for it is a decision, a choice.
So, my sweet Lady Jane, it is nice to see you not worrying
about the future; but dancing and rocking to rock and roll
music, living like Ruby Tuesday, you come and go and
change every new day and you just imagine, living for today.
Ahhhh……..
11/22/21 Your Favorite Poem of 2021 Poetry
Chantelle Anne Cooke
9/18/21 Written and Submitted
Letter To Your Future Self Poetry
Silent One
NOTE: My pen name is Sweet Lady Jane
from the Rolling Stone's Lady Jane
I'm sitting here right now, just thinking back through time,
about all the things I've been addicted to, through out my entire life.
now this has got me thinking, why was this so,
why I thought so many of my addictions were a good way for me to cope.
Addicted to lollies and video game as a child, they made me happy.
Addicted to violence at 9, because love was about control.
Addicted to writing at 10, a place for me to hide.
Addicted to smoking at 11, don't know really why,
also addicted to masturbation, to take my frustrations away
and addicted to movies, cause there was silence for a while.
Addicted to Alcohol at 12, it made me feel good inside.
Addicted to cannabis at 13, it freed me from my mind.
Addicted to hashes oil at 15, progressing I guess.
Addicted to gang life at 16, this was what I wanted to be.
Addicted to the party life at 17, it got me away from home.
Addicted to prescription medications at 18, a whole new world to see.
Addicted to gambling at 21, a real emotional ride.
Addicted to various T.v show, a way to fantasize.
also addicted to arguing and fighting, because I was always right.
For the next 5 years I went back and forth through all my addictions you see,
never really knowing where I fit in, because none of these were me.
so long was I trapped by addictions, in my mind it was the way to survive,
I truly thought my addictions were the only things keeping me alive.
Addicted to Yahoo messenger at 26, only thing on computers I knew how to do.
Addicted to bebo at 28, cos all my friends had one.
Addicted to helping people at 30, so much pain I could ease.
Addicted to tribal wars at 31, because I lacked satisfaction in my life.
then came a new addiction, to publish what I write.
Addicted to education at 34, so much I needed to understand.
and of course there was face book, well everyone is on face book.
Addicted to reprogramming myself at 36, this is where i'm at now.
i'm also addicted to my children, for they give me strength when i'm down.
I look back on my life and all I see is a lot of misery,
so coming to terms with my addictions, is my a new fight for me,
once I understand and embrace them all,
I can teach my children there's a better life in store.
I know I will never be free from addictions,
because I have an addictive mind,
the only difference now from then,
are healthier ones I find.
M.Mahauariki © 2012
Form:
It was the Halloween Ball
In the season of the fall
A mysterious bachelor called
To the attention of us all
The biggest mansion party
The cooks food is hearty
The host is definitely tardy
For most of his own party
The musicians play the last dance
The men try to romance
But don't stand a chance
For the host is here! They glance
To a man dressed in black wear
In Old Spanish attire bare
The women began to stare
For he was a young stallion, a Mare
From a top the stairs he walks
The ladies gather to stalk
The man who doesn't talk
Like birds they came in flocks
He wore black clothes and a red sash
White trim and a black mask
To find a dancer is his task
But who will he ask?
The only girl not drawn to attention
Is sitting alone no words to mention
He takes her hand There is no tention
Soft as a doves wings a cool sensation
The proceed to the middle of the floor
She doesn't know what's in store
A lot of musicians come in..there is more!
Some of them rich, some are poor
He takes his tunic off then starts
The music is written from the heart
The stand at attention far apart
Then the solo with the silver harp
The drum beat starts going
They come together emotions flowing
His risque' dance he is showing
To her mind he is boasting
They move and dance like magic
For five minutes the song's romantic
The crowd watching in motionless static
The songs end was very tragic
The last beats were hard to miss
They drew close and started to kiss
For her it was a mystical bliss
His every movement caressed her lips
The awkward silence he starts to leave
The young lady can hardly breathe
She starts to faint...she can't see
The wings appeare and she falls asleep
The girl awakes in her bed it seems
In her school clothes it was only a dream
The sound of water foils the scene
Her eyes still blurry it's hard to see
She wanted this for real
Her heart is sealed
Then fate will have to deal
Her new loves appeal
She notices something on the ground
It's the wings and mask she found
And a CD blank is bound
She puts it in and the sound...
Is the unforgettable song
It was to her so long
But there was something wrong
Where did this come from?
In the CD case is an Old Engligh letter
It said "Undoubtedly for the better
I am gone with the weather
Your kiss I will always remember forever and ever
Form:
Have You Tried My Slushie? By
Briar Rabbit
I don’t know if it brings the boys to the
yard
I’d want some time to myself
I think..
I think of angel dust
while
liberty belles call my name
cement and concrete as I leave the shrink
i am bowed down some
staring at my shoes
as I walk to my stop
I take PM dawn pills
For Purples edge,
Irony, I know
It’s bubble and burble
And bubble and grape flavor in my mouth
Chewy fat chunk of life’s worth
Like Nicki sticks to a wad
I chew it
It’s imprinted
Yummy and pink bubbles
Imprinted on the wrapper
Wrapper
Rapper
I like smoking
Smoking
Puro
Cheap menthol lights
The Inhale and the burn of the
Humo
In my nose
On the top and to the sides of my lungs
Smoking
Puro
I’ve become a Whiz Kid @ this
And I learned to become
a cowboy kid cigarette
aficionado
I watch my toes
Shoe gaze
Blow some smoke
Through my mouth and my nose
And then I breathe
I am a
Smoke Tamer
It’s purple-blue, tinged grey
Curls in form only real Wizards
Can create – Dragons, Curly cues,
and ring after ring after ring
When I’ve had my high , I pinch my cherry
Roll it between my fingers and test the
edge
Of this proto-promethean glory
Index to thumb
My butt at ease
And my feet alive
I pet a bug
Or an ambitious spider
Cupping my hands I put her back
in the bush. Apologizing
after letting her explore my fingertips
my hands, my wrist, my arm
to my elbow and then I let her know, no
gently
I cry a little inside when i do, because
she’s
curious and seeking comfort in some
shade
like I do.
Our feelings I think are
mutual
I am still..
Sticking with Fabolous
My slushie named orange and blue
Half to three quarters gone
I’m sippin it and three a party in
My pants, no ********, a wow in my
Mouth, and a brain freeze.
The brain freeze gives me a *****
Seriously.
I’m serious.
I cross my legs, lift up my hood
Arrange two rings and a cross
Pick at the crud under
My nails, maybe I should
Pull down my shades
Arrange my pant legs
Again.
Slurp my slushie.
Brain freeze and I’m turned on
again
I blush and pull down my hood
I’m still sitting at the bus shelter
I light another one,
My smoking curls,
Curling
curly-curly
curly ques..
MY smoke curls
MY smoke curls
When I feel compassion
with my positive needs
for love
health
trust
safety,
When I feel compassion
for my fears
wounds
negative fortress wants
to overpower perceived threats
against my egocentric compromises
with ruthless capitalism,
soulless patriarchalism,
strategic genocide,
extractive ecocide,
smug and heartless anthrosupremacy,
aggressively diseased LeftBrain dominance
inside my ruminating self
as schizophrenically viral
outside Those Evil People
voices
without kind choices,
When I feel compassion
with my healthy integral potential
and for my pathological capacity
to do more harm
to further wound EarthTribal consciousness
to militarize my fearmongering
and anger repressing words,
When I feel compassion
as the guy who loves listening
to friends and family, and even foes
excited about our multigenerational attachments
to multicolored
and fabulously gay designed
exotically sexy fragrant flowers
Is also the coempathizing guy
who shares DNA
and bicameral neurosystemic flow structures
with Vladimir Putin
and those who voted for him,
with Adolph Hitler
and those who voted for him,
Donald Trump
and those who voted for him,
Mitch McConnell
and those who voted for his Straight Corporate Man Party,
and possibly even Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene,
and those Georgians who voted for her
bad blond self-image
Which is decidedly not Green
in any feminist compassionate
organically cooperative
and co-empathically engaged way
and means to truth
and healthy resilient life
Maybe,
as I have sometimes whispered,
not-green Greene is a toxic infestment
machine
planted by an alien aryan planet
When I feel compassion
what do I need?
want?
crave?
CoEmpathic cooperation
and healthy co-investment,
experiences of win/win strategic game playing,
celebrating our resonant
positive
social neurological systems
for restorative health
for cooperative
long-term
EarthTribe safety.
When I feel compassion
for my engaged side
AND my dark and ominous potential
to fail in my own indigenous
humane
natural/spiritual development potential,
Then I can at least laugh
with my own creative conspiracy theories
and against my own tragic Earth-degenerative
Mutually Assured Destruction,
MADness that might take out humanity
Or,
even worse,
eradicate Earth's wild
and domesticated flowers.
It was when I reached my fortieth birthday.
Not so young, but, youthfulness ruled the day.
I was known as an educationist, around,
My intelligence and wisdom, they felt, was sound.
Not many were invited to my birthday party,
My friends said I looked hale-and-hearty.
Cut the cake and with all simple meals shared,
I felt, as though by all, I was loved and cared.
It's when I stood to thank each one that evening,
Something tucked my tongue for no evident reasoning.
I stood silent, shocked, perplexed and lost,
None could understand what had happened to the host.
I tried to talk. I could not. Tried again; failed!
Not knowing my state of mind my friends hailed.
When, after hard trials, like dew drops, my tears spilt,
All, around, understood. Lo! There’s some tilt…
They took hold of me and asked me what happened,
I could not articulate; all seemed so saddened.
Doctor - some said; That's what they soon did,
None could remove from my tongue that lid.
I, an orator, remained speechless. Is it God's work?
Or demons do such tricks that God gets the jerk?
I resigned to the state of affairs and remained silent,
Everyone around understood this and became quiet.
I felt my trouble is nothing before John Milton,
I could see; he could not; My path is, hence, silken.
Pain in me, yet, grew, like fire in a dry forest,
Though I seemed silent, within I had great tempest.
Having found no remedy in treatments mountainous,
I turned to God, who is bundle of boundlessness.
I surrendered to him and said - Give me speech -
In return, I will, your glories ever preach.
In return? O fool! What would you give God?
Inner mind said. What could to God you award?
It's, hence, I lay before him, as though dead,
As mute as a muted lute, I went ahead.
In one of praise and worship during night adoration,
I could feel, within my tongue, certain restoration.
Is it reality or illusion? I did never know,
Dumb will speak, scriptures said, if believed so.
I believed; trusted; relied on his immense power,
Many prayed during that very long operation hour.
I talked. They could understand me as before,
Does anyone know, yet, the truth within the core...???
God and God alone is the truth I firmly say,
Without him, for salvation, there is no other way...!
24 October 2022
ER: Enlightenment Recovery Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Page 7
We’ll build a wooden structure
With planks torn from our ships
And place it by their gates
Then we wait for the eclipse
Now I know you all have questions
About how I know these things
But I’ve studied all religions
Foreign Nations, Queens and Kings
Some kingdoms honor Bears
Some worship cats and eagles
Some lions, tigers, bears, “Oh My”
Foxes, wolfs and beagles
Now, these Trojans have one fondness
It stands upon four feet
It feeds upon the grassy plains
And they ride it down their streets
We will build it long and sleek
With a tail tacked to its end
And ears, upon its oblong head
But, with one thing more to send
There, concealed inside its belly
Are those who lie in wait
For the beast to be drawn inside
The Trojan’s massive gates
Page 8
So until the sun starts rising
You men must now embark
And assemble the device
While working in the dark
The others on the beach
A distraction will devise
To keep your labor secret
From those Trojan’s prying eyes
Now off with you, behind that mound
I have a party to attend
It’s not often I can have some fun
At the same time to offend
( Troy 1184 BC, The Beach Party )
The Flames of passion darted up
Into the evening air
It made the glittering of sand
Seamed like stars were everywhere
The drums had reached a beat
That made the young men, have to dance
And I’m sure it made The Trojans
Lose control and wet their pants
Page 9
While young men danced on burning sands
Displaying sex appeal
The Greeks would pause and strike a pose
And flex their buns of steel
The Trojans on the wall
Filled with heighten passion soon
Turned their backs and dropped the drawers
Displaying many moons
It seemed as if, we played all night
Now its time to take our chances
Bring forth the horse, and by due course
We all took second glances
The carpenters that worked all night
Had never seen the beast
It was a horrible interpretation
That is to say the least
I should have choose an artist
Much more suited for the task
For instead of building a mighty horse
There stood a giant ass.
No time to make corrections for
The dawn was growing near
We must move without detection
And crawl in through its rear
To be continued...................
Tomorrow is the huge party, everyone has been invited to come even the turkey. The turkey has been roasted and weighed, salads and cakes have been made. Rows of pickles are on the plate, sliced cheese and crackers wait. Now off to bed, a soft pillow for my tired head. Dreaming of dancing pickles everywhere, there was even a big cute brown bear. The bright sun was coming in, what a dream that has been. I opened the refrigerator~what did I see, a mess looking back at me. The pickles and brie, were they dancing or wanting to flee. Was that brown fur, my eyes must be a blur. No more wine the night before a huge party, just some simple turkey.
Date Written: 8/14/2022
Pleasant spring like day January 12th, 2020
Courtesy climate change
(think global warming),
I would never wish to exchange
unseasonable temperature
way out of range
far to balmy, undoubtedly
ole man winter
weather did shortchange.
Once thermometer readings rise
even smidgen one moost not minimize
Earth way out of balance,
I haint gonna catastrophize
as bajillion acres plus
one after another ocean dries
even the skeptic cannot turn
blind eye and believe contrary lies
when every species practically extinct
and self proclaimed éminence grise
doth trumpet and stubbornly tries
to claim plethora unearthed resources
as sudden goldmine
against wages of sin
former traitor joe redeemers actualize
to catalyze nth industrial revolution
teaching as heresy
ecocentric, which material basket
of deplorables power mongers bowdlerize
Concurrence toward meteorological
trend most all people agree
toward adapting, experiencing,
and witnessing increase -
fair in height degree
bestowed upon Thomas Newcomen,
Richard Arkwright, Samuel Crompton,
Edmund Cartwright
and James Watt first Industrial
Revolution conferred as honoree
appellation not necessarily
in retrospect donned as noble pedigree,
now hundred of years
later downside we see
of belching, coughing,
disorging... yes siree
foul, (née deadly)
cancerous, gaseous, noxious... pollutants.
Decreased dissension
grudgingly did abate
unclouded protests trumpet
Trump to abdicate
irrefutable proof generates
activist voices to accumulate
linkedin over Green Party
blessedly to administrate
hoop fully figurative tide
will turn and aerate
political atmosphere whereby
progressive minds will affiliate
otherwise business as usual,
cuz spewing deadly particulate
will only aggravate
dire straits, where series
of unfortunate events will airdate
prophetic apocalyptic fate
especially if nonprogressive
stodgy commander in chief re-elected
flush with bigotry and hate
increased chance (chants) ripe state
for revolution avast swath
of population to amalgamate,
and overthrow anachronistic government
absolute zero survival unless dramatic
nondestructive strategy eschewed
to supplant exploitation and mandate
radical transformation, which dramatic
shift off grid if lucky requisite
Earth friendly manufacturing
can possibly ameliorate.