Long Placesme Poems
Long Placesme Poems. Below are the most popular long Placesme by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Placesme poems by poem length and keyword.
I was driving down Eighteenth Avenue in Bensonhurst
in my scash-a-bang Chevy Chavalier...and I was having a wallear for a hero,
but I didn't wanna wait on line like those noisy kids from Mexico;
I tried to jump the line, but duh tall, mean-looking boss yelled at me,
" Get back on line, skinny molink...I don't like dis kinda of weisenheimer...
you're just another duh-ta-duh! " I wa so hungry I could have eat'n a cow,
and want'd give him a piece of my silly mind! " Oh, my God...he sounds like those tough
dudes from The Sopranos! " You got a loud mouth, wack! " I yell'd back
" Don't you mess with a goomba! I said with the loudest voice " Oh, my God,
you get me so mad...I just wanna my meatballs hero and go! "
The chubby man with a face fins said angrily, " Hear me out...don't you tawk to me
like dat, I axeya in a nice way, so go back on line and wait
like dey do! Don't you laugh at me like I'm tell' you a wacky joke!"
He freezes my words...I can't tawk and with a huge hero
in my hand, I quickly run back to my scash!
Translation:
I was driving down Eighteenth Avenue in Bensonhurst
in my-beat-up Chevy Chavalier, and I had a craving for a sanwich,
but I didn't want to wait in line like those noisy kids from Mexico!
I tried to jump the line, but the tall, mean-looking boss yelled at me,
"Get back on line, skinny guy...I don't like this kind of wise guy...you are
just another idiot! " I was so hungry, I could have eaten a cow,
and wanted to give him a piece of my silly mind!" " Oh, my God...he sounds like those tough
dudes from The Sopranos! " " You got a loud mouth, wacko! " I yelled back,
"Don't you mess with a clown!" I said with the loudest voice " Oh, my God,
you get me so mad...I just want my meatballs sandwich and go!" The chubby man
with the moustache said angrily, " Hear me out, don't you talk to me like that...
I'm asking you nicely, so go back in line and wait like they do!
Don't you laugh at me like I'm telling you a crazy joke!"
He freezes my words...I can't talk and with a huge hero
in my hand, I quickly run back to my old-beat-up car!!
Entered in Deberah's Gucci " Dialects make the world go 'round "
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
We met a few years ago, then suddenly you were gone
We danced the very last dance to our favourite song
Happenings in our lives took control of our tomorrows
That evening when you walked away, filled my heart with sorrow
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When I heard the telephone ring, I answered and you were there
And we spoke of the past few years, these years we could have shared
The time flew by when we talked, sharing our pasts to date
When you said you'd like to meet up again, my heart just couldn't wait
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When I picked you up from the Airport, you hadn't changed at all
Six foot plus with sky blue eyes, still leaving me enthralled
We settled into our night for tomorrows journey we'll make
To a rented cottage so idyllically set, down by the lake
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The morning came so fast as we set of on our trip
Again going over the years, picturing like a movie clip
Our destination now reached, refreshed we head for a meal
At a restaurant overlooking the lake, our pasts begin to seal
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Back to the cottage we go, as you gently take my hand
So dreamy under the full moon, is this what fate had planned
You play our favourite song, the one we danced to so long ago
As you take me in your arms, something in me flows
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We look into each others eyes as you ruffle my long blond hair
I see desire looking back from your manly sky blue stare
Slowly we discard our clothes as you lay me on the bed
Adventurous discovering hands declare our minds well read
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Our passion resonates, excitement fills the air
Years of catching up in delightful bodily share
We awaken in the morning, spooned within my reach
Our love has been reborn, re-found visiting Qualicum Beach
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-15.php
HOW
“THREE DOLLAR DEWEYS”
GOT ITS’ NAME
(redux)
We’ve been watching you reading our sign,
know what your thinking, what an unusual line.
Come on in, you’ll have a wonderful time.
Tell you a story and won’t take your last dime.
Legend has it that Dewey dropped in here,
looking for a lot more than a sandwich and beer.
A “Honky-Tonk Woman” worked her way to the old Port from Nantucket.
The money she earned, she put in her bucket.
She sold it on Commercial St. without any fear.
Meeting men at its’ intersection with Union, a perfectly named location, I hear.
Along came Dewey and asked for the price.
Normally it’s a buck but for you Dewey, it’s one times thrice.
Dewey scowled with some obvious distain.
That is until offered this sensible economic refrain.
Dewey, you won’t think the price is too high,
just let me put my hands in your fly.
Forget about everything except your own stimulation.
Money means nothing when it comes to inflation.
Plus, you’re going to be so ecstatic,
after you take me to that attic.
Folks’ let’s remember Dewey wasn’t looking for a bride,
but damn glad he paid those three bucks, for a “TICKET TO RIDE!”
The woman and bucket went back to Nantucket they say,
leaving Dewey thinking, I might as well stay.
He bought the whole corner by selling forty different beers and ale.
Next came the food and tourists, according to the tale.
Let’s end this ditty and come straight to the point.
That’s the way it came about, the naming of this joint.
*** During lunch on a tour of New England, the director challenged us to find out how this
bar in the seaport of Portland Maine got its' name. I said I would do him one better, I would
bring in the "Beatles and Stones." The Bar, Name, Location, Reasons are factual, perhaps
some have been there.
I walk into an old brick building on a campus.
It seems so familiar. . . as if I should know it,
and yet my memory is blurred.
Climbing steps, I’m sure of where I need to go.
I glimpse a door on an upper floor.
Opening it, I look inside. It’s not the room I believed I sought.
A feeling of foreboding now crawls over me.
Somehow I know. . . that somewhere in this building
some students wait for me.
Panic grips me as I think of the minutes I am losing.
That room. . . That room. . . Where is it?
I move down corridors, up stairs, down stairs,
Opening door after door after door after door
to rooms from which strangers’ faces stare blankly back at mine.
Now I’m racing down many flights of stairs, then up,
running to opposite sides of the building and back,
Steps turn into escalators! How strange. . . .Old blends into new.
The building, once so common, has now become gigantic.
I’m swallowed up by it, by its limitless labyrinth hallways
leading me to nothing. I must get back to where I started from!
Running, running. . . I awaken with a jolt!
Having drifted back to sleep, I find myself this time
on a bustling and modern city street.
It seems so familiar. . . . as if I should know it.
Those rising skyscrapers. A place I once lived or maybe visited?
Starting to walk, I seem to know (how do I know?). .
that a narrow street of tiny shops and outdoor vendors
waits around the corner, a cobbled street where new turns into old.
Again. . . That same hideous foreboding begins to creep upon me. . .
And as I turn around, the street I’d walked along looks not the same.
Should I try to backtrack? Something tells me. . . .
I have tried and failed at that before. . . in other dreams.
Panic is resurfacing again, for I just know. . .
I’m never going to find my way
back to where I started.
Some stranger sent me a letter,
stating that I was a beyonder,
someone who looks human and strong like steel,
but actually doesn't have the same traits;
he was born to foretell his own demise,
and expose,without resentment, his lies:
and if only he would have heeded,
he would have known perfect sunsets!
And I can attest to this:
the rocky road to my mountain
has not been smooth, but rough;
I had many good choices,
but choosing vanity over them,
made me roam amid my ruins...
a worthless life resembling an empty
house with closed windows;
a dark soul without faith...
living its days in nothingness!
Climbing the precipitous mountain,
with a young and adventurous heart,
was the easiest challenge a dreamer could face;
now, my breath is heavy and going down
isn't an easy task: my meadow is strewn with weeds,
and no flowers grow to entice it with their fragrance,
before their seeds were scattered by favorable winds,
and every summer those swaying dandelions
and gigantic sunflowers bowed...
to worship the life-giving sun!
As my day comes to a close,
I can't turn back and change anything,
but stare at the rocky road of my mountain,
letting regrets, filled with remorse, come to the surface again:
not to have done things differently, or at least,
tried to take into consideration my rebellion;
but friends, don't judge me harshly or be enraged...your battles
weren't like mine: I had to fight a vicious beast!
Your fate wasn't the fate I encountered at a tender age,
your mountain had no steep slopes or a direful disadvantage!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
From a wide square with an ancient marble fountain,
which borrowed its fresh water
from a nearby, pristine river;
I looked far away...to fix my glance on
the Norman fortress rising on the top
of a barren and steep hill,
that the Normans built to keep off
the invaders with fast horses and sharp swords!
And beneath those strong walls,
I lay down tracing them back to medieval times;
and as the noon grew warmer, I fell asleep
drifting into a past ,which made many fret and weep!
I wanted to hear tales of bravery, how the knights
fought their battles to guard against dire;
and their fortress they fiercely defended,
until the verdant grass was saturated with blood!
Galloping on my agile Arabian horse, with glistening
armor and drawn sword...I heard the laments of the wounded,
fearless as a voracious lion catching his prey,
I entered the battlefield that loudly clanked;
and everywhere there were prostate bodies on the morbid ground,
and I, in mortal terror, couldn't turn back and not face the enemy!
It could have taken a fatal moment for me to have died...
not returning to the people I had left behind!
As a true knight: I had to honor my pledge,
and through pain and ordeal I had to kill to stay alive;
when the battle ended, I headed back to the Norman fortress!
Awakening from that vision, brazing out fear...
I realized how real that could have been;
and its brief duration made me much courageous,
but somewhat deeply mournful...
to have seen so much blood and grief!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
I have seen the mountains in so many ways,
And have traveled to lands looking majestic.
I’ve been searching for places to pass the days
To live wild and free is the ultimate aim.
My spirit calls for the wilderness to challenge me
In a way no one else can in any city life.
I see myself guided somewhere to the sea
To dream of a place that will be my home.
I guess I am looking for something that is knew,
Where tomorrows ideas are open and call for me.
Sadly there is nothing left here that remains true.
I pray, my strength of mind will guide me somewhere.
The morning sun shone westward to a land far away.
It beckoned me to go to a new place of my own.
Traveling and lost on an unknown roadway,
A force showed me a light that directed me onward.
Alaska wild and free, speaks to me in silent fantasy.
The evening sun glowed along the mountains
Lighting a path of splendor and ecstasy
I tasted the warmth of a fire burning in winter snows.
You see endless rivers run wild in Alaskan country,
With salmon sprouting for bears to catch,
The days are darkened by a times duty,
I followed my vision to this land wild and free.
I see new sunlight now shining through the trees.
My Alaskan dreams are now awakening,
With great adventures and stories waiting for me
You see, I have found my place to pass the time.
Tomorrow I will be reborn, and forget the past.
I will see the lands beauty for miles and rejoice,
You see my life is full of new wonders growing fast,
And my Alaskan stories wait to be written down.
What place is this that gives me peace
Amidst the haunting of the world's disease
Where on a stony pillow I find release
Guilty shadows flee, and I am at ease
What place is this that between a vision
And a dream, show me heaven still is real
And angels in their bright succession
Walk up and down the sacred ladder in zeal
O let me with my pillow make an altar here
Mark this indestructible rock of my faith
This must be heaven's gate, let me bare
My selfish desires, that you may consecrate
This worthless vessel, once of precious gem
Was wrought, for I have fled my kindred
Hound, but cannot flee this surge of mayhem
That holds me captive with its silent dread
O Bethel, now I return again, remember me
The trickster from the crossroad turned. Here
Once more my better name that favors mercy
To claim from my children's shame. How dear
To me this Rock, before whom once ago I kneel
When in ignorance that long night he gave rest
And moved my heart like a ship to turn its keel
To the harbor of his love, to the shelter of his breast.
And yet, despite my experience, how do I tell
What is the gate of God in the sinner's earth
This little spot that shuts out our guilty hell
And like a womb provide us with a second birth
What place is this, self replenishing, multiplies
The blessings channeled through absent doors
My cup runneth over here, and none denies
In this place the heart a laddered angel soars
Form:
In a cutter he sailed
This tanned foreign man
Muscled and handsome
As i watched him step on my island
His long brown hair
Mm, shoulder length
I went weak at the knees
Losing my strength
The evening drew in
As i sat on the beach
Admiring his ship
Craving his reach
When i heard a voice
Saying " good evening to you "
I turned around
And the want in me grew
I said " hello back "
Would you care to join me
On this sunset evening
As i joy at the seas
On the sands we sit
Our lives being discussed
My inner thoughts of this young man
Were beach laid lust
We continued to chat
As we moved real close
We shared a kiss
As our skin was exposed
He picked a red flower
And placed it in my hair
Into his eyes i looked
To desire him here
His muscled body
Held me to his
My breasts outing
My heart in bliss
The warm evening air
Drifts over our skins
In the sands we join
Our pleasurable sins
Its as if the warms winds quieten
Allowing our chorus of love
As the stars peer through
The palm tree leaves up above
In explosive crescendo
Like the breakers on the shore
He excites me like no other
As my body cries for more
In symphony and in sync
We writhe and absorb
Our passion shared
Before natures sinking orange orb
In his arms i lie
Until well into dawn
For i know in my heart
Unto him i am drawn
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-7.php
Shipmates headed to town on a Saturday night
Ready to party, ready to fight
Passing a bar, I said Let’s stop by
There’s a barmaid inside who had caught my eye
Local boy said I saw what you did
You hit on my girl. You’re a dead man, squid
I don’t let no one hit on her no more
When someone does, then that means war
So I said Please to meet you. I’m really charmed
But if it’s a war on words, then you’re unarmed
Hey, I want you to know, you’re number one with me too
What a coincidence, the same number as your I Q.
Can’t help it if this ole boy set her heart on fire
So back off if you don’t want to sing soprano in the choir
Now I may not be the brightest lad
But it was easy to see he was getting mad
Then I said sorry man, I should have kept my mouth shut
Because I don’t have time to kick your butt
Then as I backed toward the door, I don’t know why
I stopped in front of the bar maid and I kissed her goodbye
The local saw fire and his face turned red
He threw a bottle at me that just missed my head
Then he charged at me and I took out his feet
And he slipped through the door and into the street
I looked at my shipmate and said some other day
We jumped over the bar and went out the back way
I said to my shipmate Let’s go somewhere else and unwind
He said you’re okay for a Yankee but you’re out of your mind.
Portsmouth, Virginia 1965 on liberty.