Long Pop Poems
Long Pop Poems. Below are the most popular long Pop by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pop poems by poem length and keyword.
Pop
Fine, Pleasant
Jingling, tingling, sounding
Drum, guitar, piano, flute
Dancing, singing, enjoying
Ecstatic, luscious
Music
Sponsor: Dr. Ram
Mehta
Contest:Diamente
October 25, 2013
Hmm... on second thought
lemme join anorexic club
until rib cage protrudes taut and visible
doubling as drum to drub
synchronized within heart of darkness,
especially when electrocardiogram exhibits
absolute zero vital sign,
cardiac arrest translates
as cessation to lub dub,
hence yours truly
declared dead as doornail,
coroner report deems arrhythmia
directly linkedin to deliberate Machiavellian flub
courtesy the missus attempt to poison me
actually aborted cuz nanobots
loosed upon body gripped with rigor mortis,
a minor inconvenient truth
cuz odorless and tasteless deadly toxins
rendered me convalescing
from bout with death, an oxymoronic
former slenderman gourmand.
temporarily deceased
until said microscopic robots
avidly analogous to frenzied
figuratively hogtied pigs
buzzfeeding at a trough
creating porcine hubbub
invisible nanoids (0.1-10 micrometres)
accomplished programmed task
whereby fatal microbes they did scrub
away leaving me fit as a fiddle.
No matter she thoroughly, painstakingly
and lovingly didst strew
haphazardly she threw
leftovers together,
this blustery march like
November twenty six figuratively view
wing the remaining thirty plus days
of two thousand twenty one
thoroughly cooked in microwave until...
poor excuse for my meal appeared
with consistency of shoe leather.
Think the missus not afraid
of Virginia Woolf keen to experiment
treating me like the Gingerbread Hag would:
questionable resultant glop pantomimed
for my guessing pleasure
never figure out in bajillion years
as amateurish Marcel Marceau charade
performance courtesy the spouse,
an entrée she gave - yours truly
immediately sought to evade
me subsequently evincing
horrific puckered mealy mouth
as though I swallowed hand grenade
figurative exploding oral cavity
feeble futile gesticulation inveighed.
Taped to the door’s plexiglass pane, a portrait
Of a Savior with ardent heart burning
Sunlight invades with the turning of hinges
Untethering the hospitality of Tony, the lone waiter
His Brazilian arms are swinging doors, open to embrace
He wore fishnet leggings to the Halloween Jamboree
Leather corset paired with his jet black hair,
Moving with grace at the age of seventy
To the right of the register towering above
The marble counter, the burnout teen dreams
Of welding underwater. A master of sparks
Under the pressure of the indomitable sea
Within his perspective the walls contort,
Xanax whispers in voices of an angel’s Hark
“They won’t know if the register’s short”
Behind the oven is the maestro of cheese and painted tomato
Luis whistles and sings ballads in the tongues of banda
Smiling at nothing with teeth all jagged and yellow
Welcoming all who wander with an “Ah mi amigo, ¿como estas?”
A jolly grin and laughing lungs lift a belly made of pizza dough
The oiled gears of a restaurant’s engine, fueled by cervezas
Joe rides into the shop he owns on his jet black Harley
To work with the line cooks in his leather steel toed boots
He was once Philly cop, and he may still be stuck in center city
He never lets his gun leave the secure embrace of his belt loop
Yet under such a Italian-American macho man brovato
Lies the soul of a tender soul that loves to cook for his community
Across the street, sunflowers raise their winter withered heads
The sizzling steak sandwiches sing in a chorus of cholesterol
The leather booths welcome anyone escaping the World’s dread
So come to Carmines, a source of solace for any and all
I have been thinking about
And in the end started to shout
“This is my private thought!”
My mind wanted and sought
Then caught
Deciding suddenly to halt
Realizing something was at fault
After swimming in the fantasy pool
Visions teasing and cool
A dream filled with images black and white ending in color
Romantic stimulating coupled with a lover
Could I have reached a goal?
Turning nothing into gold
Or was this a pending nightmare
Ready for a scare
Secured having everything
Treated like a theatrical king
Due to the way I sing
Suddenly I wake
Feeling like something went into me like a stake
Reporter reported I was a fake
Retreated to my Momma’s home
Sat there with pie all alone
Not answering texts on the cell phone
This is what I am thinking about
Fame game I needed to get out
So, they ate me alive
Knowing I am just an entertaining Idol taking a dive
Called a honey in the hive
With talent and buzz
World knowing who I was
For a second minute or hour
I was a pop star celebrity with power
This painter decides on a photo of a girl or boy, their face or body, to be distant or intimate, a photo with an idea.
This idea decides on a size of the canvass to be square or rectangle, modest or grand, a canvass with intent.
This intent decides whether photo shopping is to be cut out or level, hazed or clear, a painting with fidelity.
This fidelity decides the precision of pencil preparation drawing on the canvass, the thick or thin widths, straight or sweeping contouring.
This contouring decides whether the fluidity of the paint plate tray has black oozing like black blood, or dolloping globs of grey when creating a cognitive fifty shades of black.
This shading of black decides the brown or green, red or blue colours of hushed tone.
This hushed tone decides the narrow brush creating exacting curves of figures, the jagged cryptic shading to straight forms of silhouettes.
This silhouette decides the vast areas used by the ample brush detouring like a compass giving perceptions like vague needed by the painter.
This painter decides the name of this obscure and ambiguous girl or boy painted in pop art.
Entered into Chain Verse 1 contest by Edward Ebbs, placed 6th
Bubbles blown, float in the air,
Shaking shining, way up there,
Blow them high, watch them fly,
Then pop them, Saying: 'Bye-Bye'!
Blow them, Pop them.
Float them, Catch them,
Say: 'Bye-Bye'.
Watch them sparkle, watch them grow,
Tiny rainbows, all aglow,
Dancing in the morning light.
Soapy balls up in flight.
Blow them, Pop them.
Float them, Catch them,
Say: 'Bye-Bye'.
Catch a bubble in your hand,
Gently make it belly-land.
Be quick, they're sticky,
The catch is tricky!
Blow them, Pop them.
Float them, Catch them,
Say: 'Bye-Bye'.
Blow them softly, watch them soar,
Let's blow and pop some more!
Watch them float, up in the sky
Going up, ever so high.
Blow them, Pop them.
Float them, Catch them,
Say: 'Bye-Bye'.
GIVE ME SOME TRUTH
John, was born October 9, 1940, in Liverpool
He met Paul McCartney in 1957
John and Paul formed a close working relationship ... COME TOGETHER
Young and fearless guys with music as the common interest
Over time, it became a REVOLUTION
When we talk about John Lennon, his name associates with The Beatles
With members John Lennon, Paul McCartney,
George Harrison and Ringo Starr
WELL, WELL, WELL in the music world it became POWER TO THE PEOPLE
John left The Beatles in September 1969, a new TICKET TO RIDE
CLEANUP TIME for the skilled songwriter, vocalist and guitarist
- He would continue as a solo artist BLESS YOU
I became LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS when I listened to his music
LIVING IS EASY WITH EYES CLOSED, sounded so beautiful
NOBODY TOLD ME, that John was actually a heavy drug user
IT'S SO HARD ... to deal with
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE, greatest of all is love
IMAGINE, John and me in the NORWEGIAN WOOD
STARTING OVER, a new life in my home country
MOTHER ... HERE WE GO AGAIN ... I was in love
GROW OLD WITH ME John,
happiness is a word that tastes sweet in my mouth
Together with you, the song begins to find the right sound
STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER
I AM THE WALRUS - a stupid young girl who dreams
NOBODY LOVES YOU (When You're Down And Out)
John lived on BORROWED TIME,
bitter rivals and demons sparkle in the air
I feel lonely ... and I'M SO TIRED
MOTHER said : YOU GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY
... YA YA
Song titles by John Lennon, listed below :
GIVE ME SOME TRUTH
COME TOGETHER
REVOLUTION
WELL, WELL, WELL
POWER TO THE PEOPLE
TICKET TO RIDE
CLEANUP TIME
BLESS YOU
LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS
LIVING IS EASY WITH EYES CLOSED
NOBODY TOLD ME
IT'S SO HARD
ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE
IMAGINE
NORWEGIAN WOOD
STARTING OVER
MOTHER
HERE WE GO AGAIN
GROW OLD WITH ME
STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER
I AM THE WALRUS
NOBODY LOVES YOU (When You're Down And Out)
BORROWED TIME
I'M SO TIRED
YOU GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY
YA YA
04.04.2018
Sun :) A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Her ears below the water, smiling eyes above on me
A shiver on my shoulders, wet fringe to prison sight
I speak bubble-pop talk into the river and she laughs
"That's gross! Say something nice you egotistical idiot!"
A shiver on my shoulders, wet fringe to prison sight
My mouth below the water, my eyes above on her
"That's gross… Say something nice you egotistical idiot…"
"Repeat after me: I love you because I got you wet."
My mouth below the water, my eyes above on her
I speak bubble-pop talk into the river and she laughs
"Repeat after me: I love YOU - because I got YOU wet."
Her ears below the water, smiling eyes above on me
( • Faux colors & other blather-lather tongue-lash trash promos • )
_____
For why?
(Imported cheese skewa's mo' mid-night doo'az) . . .
how sand cups da' nuts • O' thou bendi bêãch • for which the dubious shark-sighting reports exkuz-us have proved clueless-
a tropical topic of serious scientific inquiry / relational chem-bo's whacking the hippocampus.
Imagine then the kaleidoscopic cacophony of tropical haiku bursting from my mold-dented ottoman’s baby-breath foot-washer elocution's 'lectrocutions, eclectic electric bill's submersible subjects ~ ( surfer fluidity? ) Superfluity ( you Dimp! ) Unbound!
OR
Soupify our autumn alum-drummed luminaries with kung-fu cryptic-dues for pool-side doggy-print prints and herr' burgermeister's onions on the half flip-side because "Stupification®" has got to be that new restaurant on La Brea drive!
Ring-a-ling "Dog poo!"
Get out'a my yard slacker
Fence post rendezvous
. . . And how'd you get my phone number?
by Lingua Lacuna
Notes:
_____
Entropys' Centuries; Lingua intones, The aroma!
Dude; he assures the man in the mirror, and the glare!
.
Before reading this one read part one, the story will make more sense.
I felt safe amongst the colorful pages of the comic books wrapped around me. I could hear the little boy say bye to his grampa Cliff, his Grandpa said goodbye Ricky. There was a wonderful bouncing feeling as Ricky skipped out the door to his father's waiting car. As we started driving away Ricky pulled me out of the bag and I could see his mom, dad, sister and brother. As we drove along I learned the other boy was Roy and the little girl was Teresa. His parents simply were mom and dad.
I quite enjoyed the ride, Ricky's dadio had a need for speed and it was exciting passing the slower cars. In this world it seemed all of the other cars were slower. The first town we came to was Larder lake, if blinking had been possible I would have missed it. As Ricky looked through me I marveled at both the color of his eyes and the rugged landscape. Pine trees, poplar trees and beautiful lakes. I loved how the road was carved through sections of rock. The next small town I noticed was King Kirkland, it seemed rather little to be a King. It wasn't very long and we entered our destination which was Kirkland Lake.
Kirkland Lake was much bigger than where we had come from. I enjoyed watching the people as we traveled down Government Road West. I remember driving past restaurants and stores, Dadio slowed down to point out a diner called the Coffee Cup. He told us he had a Barber Shop at the back of the Diner, I was more interested in the theatre across the street. The theatre was called the Strand and I liked the flashing lights on the billboard. Just then Ricky placed me back in the paper bag with his comics so I slept for a while.
Orange Crush III to follow.