Long Roach Poems
Long Roach Poems. Below are the most popular long Roach by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roach poems by poem length and keyword.
blue war red hot political issues dont amount
to a hill of beans
when Sword of Damocles count
approaches zero hour
as global tensions mount
signaling increased chance
trigger finger will free
avast nuclear winter
(across world wide web) re:
leasing plethora pyrocumulus
mushroom clouds tree
mend us planetary explosions
annihilating webbed wide
world, an irrevocable earthlinked debacle
spelling widespread species
multitudinous extinction
ex post de facto after super
bowling powers (wannabe) vied
to wrest empowerment spanning
entire realm sans third rock
from the father, sun and holy ghost,
who turned substantial pock
kits of flora and fauna
once populating oblate spheroid ad hoc
significant swaths of life forms
pulverized and/or turned to ash
transformed into radioactive wasteland
after war mongers brash
lee usurped hegemony
(ruling inhabitants
of Gaia with an iron fist
with a smidgen of flavoring
courtesy of Missus Dash
superfluous taste enhancer,
when sibling burnt offering views
between Venus and Mars incendiary
tolled mourning news
smithereens sole remnant
poisoned every square inch
from weapon of mass destruction
that did cruise
engendering thick noxious fog
(disabling fox and roach)
while smoldering seas and continents
skull and crossbones didst poach
amidst the gasified, liquified, pureed
where holographic ghoulish super bowl coach
rendering lifelessness home for menagerie
where virtue trounced vice as organisms
(particularly one primate) didst try
(predominant 21st century simians)
tool heave with amity, comity, and empathy
animals and plants an experiment
that went a wry
presaging a nuclear winter with nary a winner
implicating mankind as the absolute sinner
instantaneously after Doomsday Clock
signaled point of no return
where grim reaper the sole grinner.
Form:
LOVE IS LIKE.........................
Love is like a pair of shoes!
Easy to abuse, or tossed in the trash when over used.
Love is like fire,
soon you'll get burn, or the flames will just simply turn off!
Love is like a car,
always finding ways to get it fixed, or searching for a better one!
Love is like a calendar,
changing days, weeks in 12 months, with resolutions never accomplished!
Love is like dirty laundry, you put it to the side!
Love is like a song, winds up all kinds of emotion before it ends!
Love is like a teacher, never appreciated!
Love is like dirt, easy to step on, or sweep away!
Love is like make up, easy to remove with tears!
Love is like a battery, draining all it's juice till it runs out!
Love is like a model, full of $h*t!
Love is like a Doctor, dumping hurting news with a cost!
Love is like a remote control, to many buttons to push!
Love is like the universe, confusing without knowing what's out there!
Love is like power, to hard to handle!
Love is like a fart, it really stinks!
Love is like a coloring book, scribbling pages to get it over with!
Love is like a flower, that will die eventually!
Love is like an egg, one way, or another it has to break or rot!
Love is like a shadow, it only happens with light!
Love is like a roach, waiting to get crushed!
Love is like a unicorn, does it even exist!
Love is like a heart beat, easy to stop!
By; p.d.
**********(LMFAO)***************
I think I had to much fun demoting love.
...........Instead Of promoting (LOL)........
Love is like wow! if you really must know!
BLOTTED OUT
He loved,but could not say
such words,he could not find;
He loved,but could not touch
such warmth,was just too much;
He was proud,but could not praise
such sounds he could not raise;
He supported,but not with words
such feelings,witheld unheard;
Sentiment,tight reined close within
banished, unvoiced by him,
embittered by his own hurt,
a scarred child 'neath his hairshirt.
In that distant past,crippled emotions lay
imprisoned,unsaid,'til his dying day.
BUCKINGAM LACE
Sussanah
great grandma
times three
a pillow puffed
up on her knee
with daughter
in cobbled Cowfair
daily shaped
their
homespun ware
Within such humble
women dwelt
a rare
& dextrous art
fashioned out
stitch by
stitch
pillowed patterns so rich
tinkling bobbins
bewildering skill
inch by inch grew
the intricate
frill
Twisting threads
in pairs & groups
knitted
together
as interlocking loops
a town craft
then
of world renown
plain or old point
hand made lace
lost foever
with no longer
a trace
COWFAIR TO ANCHORAGE
We left our abode in old Cowfair,haggled
a price for an old shire mare.Onto the
landlord's canal boat,lock stock and barrel
for a life afloat.Farewell to our Buckingham
birthplace ,a meagre living from old point
lace.Dawdled up to Cosgrove, meals around
a blackened stove.This moveable house
painted castle and rose, a life we would not
have chose.Eighteen fifties harsh and mean,
cargo of coal, nothing stayed clean.Doff your
cap,touch your forelock at the gatekeeper's lock.
Food scarce except for or fish,perch , roach a
staple dish.Clothes drying on a line,home for a time
whilst the toddlers were young.As numbers increased
and grew ,places to sleep, all too few.Family life
became impossibly hard ,so back again to a
tied cottage in Aylesbury's Anchorage yard.
Listen to me read these poems at youtube under the name ichthys
Lock ruby ridden doors for roach ridden floors bleed without grace
Roused rounded wounds throughout nightly escapes
And gaping fields of endless escapades
And gaping seas my moses blade has wrenched to dictate.
Pace rotting church floors, so I merry-may await god to knock upon my door alike a loving mother
His guilty spires to sing and relapse my sorrows
Eviscerate rusted razors to lacerate a clean slate.
And in the roar of rain and reign of vines
That pin and pay homage to this chime of final time
To frou-frou odes oozing scarlet against saccharine skin
And touch and go chortles chilling curve brow'd kin
To Cupid bow'd lips agape with cherry tipped spit
Ribbed'n red ribbons t'reach 'round rust ridden gates to 6ft city scapes
Lay'n low below poppy pinned limbs
Lifeless Carcasses drowning in ailed acrid hailing wails,
Limestone limbs aground with grave grown pests, quilled acid arms armed with bitten black mitts
Askewed pinching pincers ripp'd the petty sinner's wings, now
Falling as fallen fallacies face fickle teenage fantasies
Falling as to fall affronted towards
Mother-made dishonor doused among sickly star shine,
Clutching contorted flesh wrung of blackened regret
hung 'pon the sinful spine of east borne wind where the church resides.
Mine spires spindle star swept sereneties
To cloth mine carcass
From candid claws, in a rust ridden razor haze
O' Lacerate and Eviscerate this crass phase.
Perhaps if I were to,
Rebate the mirror that faces the sinner's face,
Would I face the same fate?
3//8//2025
Working 5am to12 midnight
everyday, minimum breaks
Missing important details
Daughter crying out
Yet too tired to notice
A life changed
No family gatherings
Working 5 am to 12 midnight
Catching the bus in sketchy neighborhoods
Son needs shoes
Sister needs stability
Missing important details
A life changed
Daughter arrested, but protected because she brought home
3 am a life changed
Too tired to really give it any energy
Evicted!
Working 5 am to 12 midnight
meant nothing to a society always in "gotta get it done"
Roach motel, scary but peaceful new neighbors
A life changed
No longer working, replaced and dismissed
A life changed
Brand new beginning
Hope on the horizon
April 8th,2024 Eclipse
Emergency Room
immediate surgery
A life Altered
Children displaced
Sister, lost confused and scared
Lives changed
No family, No support
Confused, damaged, suffering
Not special because this happens everyday
Yes, your story is unique to you, but it happens everyday
Lives Shattered
Hope seems completely out of reach
Rebuild while tattered
A new day is dawning
Cancer stage 4
Lives in the balance with a thumb on the scale
Chemotherapy, radiation therapy, immunotherapy
Mastectomy
A life disfigured
Unsure, terrified new beauty
No friends, No lover
A life Alone
It happens you're not special
A life unknown
Grey clouds dispersing above the Lough,
Grey geese skeining to winter fields for from arctic chill,
Rainbow colours reflected in water still and deep,
Chill and cold in the depths along with bream and Roach,
Amongst the weed and silt lie Pike waiting patiently,
For some small unassuming stickleback or baggie
To fill its ever hungry belly.
Arching rainbow across the hills leading to a pot,
But the gold is in the town and its deep cold lough.
Do Kelpies run off the hills finding refuge and rest,
Down the burns they skelter unseen ,unknown,
Only by frothy white water bubble and hear their ,
Unearthly whinnie amongst the crannies of ancient hill.
On dark nights when water is high will you hear the Kelpies cry.
if an atomic bomb is dropped, the cockroaches will survive.
we might not make it, but they will. They always have.
during the ice age, during the pandemics, during Armageddon.
they have the inside track on how to outlive everyone.
roach motels will take on a new meeting
you will have roach designers, roach engineers, roach undertakers
no one will scream "ooh!" when they see a roach
roaches will become the mayor, governor and president
if you are the only person who survives, enjoy the cockroaches.
your doctor, dentist, pharmacist and teachers will be of this species.
they will push you under a microscope to figure out how you survived.
remember not to squirm and smile pretty.
From Hip-Hop to bop, we ride the jazz tide, swing till you drop/underground Monk playin' some funk/Max Roach coaching the field, drums in the playbook/ Brother Jack McDuff runnin' for a touch down in the open filed/Superman and Jimmy Smith, the dynamic duo’s look flyin' high/Abstract truths on the wall, Warhol’s silver glow/Basquiat’s brush storms the gallery floor/Miles, out of the kool, breakin’ every rule/a trumpet thunderbolt/ stereo vinyl playin'/ Sonny Rollins vibes in the club, cookin’ up fresh notes/church bells ring in his horn/ Man, a river of quotes/The Jazz Messengers mark the milestones in the mist/Miles all the way live, his Sketches of Spain we can’t resist/ HiFi prayers/ Jazz time/ Peace and love for all mankind/Blue Mitchell in the barroom a mural on the wall/Man, it’s all right, baby, hear the crowd ignite/Wynton Kelly’s trio is out of sight like way gone/From street corners to jazz low down rooms, the groove is our creed/a lineage of legends planted in every reed/Spoken in breath, in rhyme, in rhythm’s Sly Stones art/a saga of swing that lives on, heart to jaged heart/ The soulful vibes keeps use alive
Come here you little Tinca
Come here towards my net
Come here you little Tinca
You're a new PB I bet.
Ive fed you worms and maggots
Caught Roach and Bream its true
But as nice as it is to catch them
I came here to try and catch you.
My rod is near bent double
The line it sings with stretch
You pull towards the Lillies
To snap me off I bet?
So come here you great big Tinca
Don't drag me in the Reeds
My heart it wont stop pounding
Your weight I'm sure exceeds
The target that I set for you
Visions flashing through my mind.
13 pound 7 ounce female specimen
Please pass it oh be so kind.
Come here you Massive Tinca
My rods begun to creak
My arms are oh so tired
They ache and feel so weak
Come here you enormous Tinca
My net is now not far
Oh damn where is my camera
Aarrgh I left it in the Car!
Come here you behemoth Monster!
I cant see you in this dark
The Net it slides beneath you!
Ohhh Damn its a flippin CARP!
Hehh Hehh
Written and composed by Mark Longson (c) 2018
On youth's restless green puff.
I rode a southbound Greyhound bus
Everything I owned stuffed into one duffel bag.
Forty-eight hours plus on Highway X.
I arrived in darkness and settled for the first dive I could find.
One dingy room with peeling pink walls.
With a large painting of a red heart against black.
I assumed somebody pretending to be Peter Max.
The next night-I popped into "Geno's bar", to watch a football game.
There was a handful of locals-nobody spoke.
I bellied up at the end of the bar
From my angle, I saw hordes of cock roaches racing over hot dogs.
I was young and beyond hungry but settled for the vending machine.
Somebody would order; Geno would reach for a hot dog,
I think the roaches were trained because they'd promptly jump off.
By the time the dogs reached the bar top
They were sizzling, juicy, roach-free, and red hot.
Old Geno shakily handed them their roach dogs.
I was the newest guy on the block
and didn't want to bug bomb his loyal patrons.
I guessed that the infestation was our dirty little secret,
Geno winked and handed me a free beer before halftime,
I thanked him and guzzled the warm brew down.
I got up to leave as the game was a blowout.
I said so long to Geno and his roaches and promptly blew town.